Someone asked if it ever got cold enough here in South Asia to wear coats and hats. We laughed, thinking about the nights when we, in our concrete and marble ice-box apartment, crawl under 3 or 4 blankets and remain there for the next 9 or 10 hours because we are afraid of the cold air and the cold floor. Granted, this cold only lasts for about 2 or 3 months here in our town.
Then we think about the times each December or January that we make our post-Christmas trip up to Darjeeling, which sits right at 7,000 ft, the 'foothills' of the tallest mountain range in the world. And we wonder why we torture ourselves with this cold annually.
Something about the town, with the mountain sides full of tea fields,
The ponies for Rebekah to ride daily,
The opportunities to dress up like tourists and act like tourists,
And just warm ourselves with good food, fireplaces, and awesome friends.
We wouldn't trade our trips up the mountains for anything.