Day 19, Aug. 29

Saturday stated out promising in Darjeeling. Fr. Swed was going to Sikkim where he has a parish that he serves on weekends. He offered to take me; but we couldn’t get back in time to make the train I had a ticket for. I really would like to have gone. It’s a new place for me even higher than Darjeeling and the parishioners are tribal folk. Too bad. We talked about my return in October if possible.
No sooner had he left than he called me saying the hills were visible. I had to finish something first, then I gathered my stuff and headed out. By now, I knew my way to some viewpoints. When I got out, it my have been too late or the view was on another viewpoint. I chased the elusive mountains for a few miles and gave up. I did see some trainees learning to climb the major league Mountains. Even the simple maneuvers were beyond my capacity. So, I went back to town and shopped for trinkets to take home as souvenirs.
There as a shop that a Jesuit helped establish. It sold the products made by tribal women and other women who had no other source of income. They knitted in a style peculiar to this point on the globe. I wanted to support the program and get some lightweight (and easily shipped) goods with a story. That done I looked or myself. Yesterday, I realized (duh) that the natives of Darjeeling are Ghurkas. There were signs all over supporting secession from its State (West Bengal). They wanted a State of Ghurkaland. The priests all supported the effort and there are compromises in the works. And, yes, to all you military these are the most respected soldiers in the world with accolades for deployments in wars throughout the last century and this. I began to covet a famous Ghurka knife, especially when I found they were plentiful and relatively inexpensive. I had promised to go back to a store that would sell me a current army issue knife for less than a nearby shop. I went back and he had jus closed for the weekend. To make the story short for the sake of time I found the same knife for only a little more than the one I found. Later, in the old bazaar section o town they had an older version of the knife, also Army issue but from WWII vintage for half the price. It’s coming back by mail. I don’t think I can get away from some transportation agent not letting it aboard a train, plain or a bus.
For the rest of the evening I had supper, good conversation in the Bishop’s house and I packed for the long trip the next day.