Ladakh - part 6 - Ladakh and Robert

 “It is amazing that you took your kid with you,” tells us with some admiration one couple in the Markha valley.

 

“Well, the borderline between amazing and stupid is quite thin,” I answer, still having in a clear memory how we spent yesterday one or two hours sitting on the side of the road in Leh, trying to persuade our little one by respectful and nice approach to finally move home and in the end were anyway carrying the screaming, kicking and hitting hedgehog on our hands, happy that we have sunglasses so we at least keep our eyes healthy.

“I think that it is not contradictory. It can be both amazing and stupid,” smiles at me the guy in response.

And that’s it. It is amazing and stupid in parallel to take your three years old kid to Himalaya.

Sometimes, you will want to bounce with your head to the wall, trying to understand, why, for the Gods sake, you did such a stupidity.

For example, after hearing everyday several times increasingly annoying demanding voice screaming:  “Playground, playground. Can we go to a playground?”

First you try to argue with him, that he played on the meadows, in the rivers and on the dunes and that here is just not really any playground, but then you find yourself frying on the sun, walking 4 km to the outskirts of the Leh just to get to the only playground in the Leh area with two swings and one broken slide. Because there is just no way to argue with your beloved one and reason with him about this.

Having our son with us also meant, that when we entered a temple, then instead of getting any deep feelings or relaxation coming from the spiritual environment, I just had to one hundred percent focus on reading and inventing names and stories for every single Buddha in the room, including the ones on the wall, so that I could spend inside at least few minutes without loud voice and catching a running kid.

And when we left the temple and wanted to breathe out with relieve that it worked out well, he run to the best toy ever – large pillar prayer wheel with a ring on the top. For a moment you feel happy that your kid found some happiness for himself, is engaged, not screaming and enjoying. In that moment you can finally relax, although on the back of your head is a little voice, that this is not the right thing to do. But you don’t have heart to stop him, because he is just happy (and so are you) after a week without playground to play…and it feels very good until some white woman comes to explain you that she thinks it is very rude to locals and not respectful to them. So you stop him and annoy locals by scream…

But…

These are some situations. Situations which are for me inseparable part of traveling with a kid. However, most of the time he explores the new world with widely open eyes and you can explore it together with him and see many things by different perspective.

You see how one day he is screaming in the temple, next day he is already interested in the names, the other day he understands that he has to be silent and then he asks you to go inside the temple by himself.

He complains when you stop him to rotate the prayer wheel infinitely and explain him why, but since then, he is able to go to it and rotate it only twice and then let go.

He loves all the animals we meet. Ponies and donkeys that walk 5 days through Markha valley with us become our friends and Robert likes to stroke them at camp places and walk with them (we have to walk really quickly to manage their speed with Robert behind our neck). Meeting horses, dogs and cows in the streets and on the roads is for Robert always a reason to smile. 

And when we get to Nubra valley and meet a herd of camels, he gets a courage to stroke them and talks to a camel baby…

In the beginning he is every day wanting to go to a playground, but he quickly invents his own games on our walks, such as playing a falling barrier with a stick, racing with his little car, playing with a paper plane, building stone towers, or rebuilding with Jan rivers.  

One day he has troubles to taste the food and other day he is looking forward for it.

He manages high altitudes with no problems and only gets very sleepy when we arrive to heights around 5000 m.n.m. and tells us, that he has enough. Similarly, we are really surprised, that he manages well long travels in buses, cars and planes, including 10 hours trip by shared taxi from Srinagar to Leh. He needs our attention, sure, but he survives, looks around and even asks for toilet in advance so we can always manage to stop.

He is challenged by changing all the time places, but he also learns that we have one stable home where we always come back after our trips and hikes and that is for him like coming home. “Půjdeme k růžím a pejskům?” (Will we go to roses and dogs?). It seems important for him to have this another stable home. To have a place, where we come back and which gives him a warm feeling. Place, where is a garden, where he can a bit relax and walk around without a fear of the cars and last days even play football with a 6 years old son of the hosting family.

He hates people coming to him and touching his blonde hair, greeting him and trying to talk to him or take pictures with him. But he gives a hand to a monk and tells him even his name.  There has to be something in these people.

He lets us to carry him many kilometers on our shoulders, but every day he walks more and more, especially when there are water springs or channels to jump over or walk inside them.

 

He doesn’t speak to adults, but he likes to play with kids. In Srinagar he slides with local kids, in Leh he plays football with a son of our host and in Thiksey he shares one of his two blue cars with a little monk who gave him an apple. 

He asks almost everyday if we can go back home to Radotin. Until one day he says if we can stay forever here, in Ladakh. And when double rainbow appears above the large Buddha in Diskit, he stares at this magical scenery similarly fascinated as we are.