Bihar, an itchy man's first impressions

It would seem that the much discussed and ignored state of Bihar in northern India has proven to be a veritable palimpsest of violently converging paradigms. A history of glory, wealth, and spiritual upliftment with a fine dollop of chaotic violence. It was the teaching grounds of Buddha and of his followers close after, it was the breadbasket and crown jewel of Ashoka's great Empire. Today it is has become a sort of half tragic place of poverty and beauty, with a booming tourist season that seems to scorn the consistently high risk of terrorism and kidnapping. It has a hot and rotten political climate that seemingly is a source of shame for India itself. And as we experienced first hand its numerous drivers for hire are what in a more elegant time might be called "a bit touched" in the noggin. Perhaps out of necessity, the trackless roller coaster we commuted in each day would cause me to just give up and go home after the fourth or fifth near death flash behind the wheel.
So it was an adventure. among the impressive calendar of events were 6 trips to 4 villages in the vast beautiful green seas of rice that fill the spaces between the road and the horizon. each was a treat and a test. The villages are these rather gorgeous and at once rather putrid collections of tightly built ramshackle brick two to four storied homes. some with courtyards some with little kiosk like shops. Trees and decorative plants mingled with hanging vines and mosses through out these private labyrinths. As I explored each of these places I had the feeling of being in a quiet and civilized place of the past, As if we had stumbled into the lazy summer afternoon of some long dead peasant of Jerusalem. I say Jerusalem cause the red brick and high walled pathways reminded me of bible movies, but in truth these red bricks are the second major harvest of Bihar after rice and have been used there for over a thousand years in much the same fashion. This was evidenced by our tourist afternoon at Nalanda. The massive and well preserved ruins of a Buddhist university from the 5th century BC. We also managed to squeeze in a trip to a Peace Stupa high on a neighboring hilltop, the chair lift up was a nice change of pace. we stood in to of Buddha’s long reputed teaching spots and viewed what was supposed to be his favorite meditation place over looking the valley. If ever there was proof of Bihar's schizophrenic nature it was that carnivalesque chair lift ride of seemingly certain death. Complete with both armed guards and lollipop sales. To a Holy monastery where durging monks intoned strains of such vibrations it made the hairs of your obligatory bare feet reach for loftier things. Where the vista of rolling hills viewed through the great silent monuments of old stone rivaled any Japanese water colour. Where the sacred and silent mountain crowened with the so called and much hallowed World Peace Stupa. And on the other side, over the cliff without the monuments, just around the monastery where the vendors and servants would cower to have a smoke, I saw a great expansive development some few thousand feet below on the other valley floor. Just then, as if on cue Gerald's voice said from behind me..."so that's the arms factory right?" I suppose its as good a place for a peace monument as any. At around this time a bomb blew up in a cracker factory in Patna(the capitol, four hours away) and some 50 people died in the resulting fire. We were happily unawares in Rajgir where our rooms of horse blankets and mosquito thick early mornings were not providing us with regular news updates. I had a few very rough nights, and generally, though the Baha'is of Bihar are a formidable and vibrant community with many wonderful individuals I would be happy never to face those streets ever again. One rat in my hair is bad enough but two nights on the floor of such a place and my itchy western skin just aint thick enough.