Go with what you know

Well, friends, this is it. Yesterday I spent the entire day running around McLeod Ganj spending time with my remaining friends; all the other foreign teachers at Tibet Charity have taken off already. It was a busy day, but a fun one.

I went for lunch with Kalden and Mike at Tibet Kitchen. I figured I should have Tibetan food for my last meal in the home of HH.

Mmm, thenthuk.

Then we went down to Nick's for dessert. Nick's has the best dessert in town.

And apparently their cappuccinos are good, too!

Me in my cool new hat Kalden gave me (it really goes with the chupa, doesn't it?), with Mike on Temple Road. XD

I had tea with the managers at Villa Paradiso and visited a few other friends before packing the last of my things and heading downstairs. Anil made me some gobi parantha for the road. While I waited on that, I looked out over Dharamsala one last time from the balcony. It's a view I'm going to miss.

The taxi that the guys at New Varuni called for me took me up to the bus station where I was met by a bunch of my students, Kalden, and Mike.

Yup... more katas!!

After half an hour of teary goodbyes and lots of hugs -- how can you not get a little misty-eyed when your students tell you things like "I will never forget your kindness"?? -- I got situated on the bus ("a very nice Volvo," just like when I first came here) and away we went.

If you look reeeeeeeeeeal close you can see me in my turquoise blouse in the middle of the bus.

And so the 12ish-hour bus ride to Delhi was underway. This time I was seated next to a youngish jewelry salesman named Dhaval who was quite friendly. I popped a couple motion sickness pills but still had to lay back, close my eyes, and concentrate on not vomiting for the first 4 hours or so. They even handed out little plastic bags, I assume for this purpose. I love the mountains, but I do not love driving in the mountains.

We stopped for dinner at a nice haveli; I didn't eat because it didn't seem worth it. I was sure I wouldn't have been able to keep it down.

When we reached Delhi, the bus drivers wanted to drop everyone off at the Kashmere Gate. Apparently it's where most tourists go, and as far as I can tell it's more or less a hub for travel. Luckily, there was one Tibetan guy on board who also wanted to go to Majnu Ka Tila, the Tibetan colony, so we stuck together and they took us there. He helped me off the bus with my things and down to AMA Hotel, where I stayed way back in July when I first arrived in India.

My plan was to stay in a neighborhood called Paharganj, per Brij's recommendation, but I was unfamiliar with the area, the hotel guy there wasn't the best about giving me information over the phone, and I had gotten dropped off IN DELHI at 4:30am. I was by myself at this point and not comfortable with hopping into any random taxi. So I went to AMA and the hotelier there was very friendly even though I'd woken him up at a ridiculous hour. It took us a little while because of the language barrier -- his English was fairly decent, but my Hindi is limited and my Tibetan is practically nonexistent -- but eventually I decided I'd just take the one room they had left and they'd book a taxi to the airport for this evening for me.

It was such a relief to get to a familiar place. If you're ever in Delhi, this is a nice place to stay. They have a really excellent restaurant downstairs, too!

I went out into Delhi via rickshaw to grab the last couple of Indian things (as opposed to Tibetan ones) I needed before coming home. I didn't even freak out! It was surprisingly unstressful during daylight hours. There are about a zillion people, sure, but I guess I'm more or less used to it now. It's not so bad.

One thing I've found that has made traveling solo much more bearable is that most people are helpful if you just ask. It's also been a tremendous help going places with people who know them the first time, and then returning later on my own. In this case, I was in Majnu ka Tila with Kalden and Palsang a few months ago, so now I don't feel so anxious about being back here. I don't particularly want to run around Delhi on my own for an extended period of time, but in this particular area I feel fine. The same thing with the Rajasthan trip: I passed through Pathankot on the train with Brij on the way down, and so when I went back on my own, I kind of knew what to expect. If I hadn't, then the whole train-breaking-down-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing would have really done a number on me.

I explained to the proprietors at AMA that I'd been here and I trusted them to take care of me, and they have been more than helpful. (I gotta write a bunch of TripAdvisor reviews.... maybe I'll do that at the airport!)

So now I'm hanging out in my hotel room, responding to "hey, just want to know how the trip is going" messages. Once I hit "publish" on this thing I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, grab a bite to eat at the restaurant downstairs, and make sure my luggage is arranged the way I want it. The taxi picks me up to take me to the airport in just over 2 hours... It should take about an hour to get there, and my itinerary requests that I report at least 3 hours prior to my flight time, so I should be fine. I'd rather be safe than sorry! Then I guess I'll see if I can find some airport wi-fi or sit down with a book and wait to board the long, long flight home. Altogether it's a little over 19 hours travel time, including the brief layover in Newark (only 1.5 hours this time). And with that... I'll be on my way back to American soil!

For all its shortcomings, India has endeared itself to me. I think I'll come back sometime. Who wants to join me?

Sleeper-classing our way to victory

Brij is pretty much the dopest person like ever. (<< He even helped me write this post.)

He got us train tickets to Jaipur so we didn't have to take a bus the whole way from Dharamsala through Delhi and into Rajasthan. See? Super dope. Anyway, Thursday we said our goodbyes to D'sala and made our way to the bus station. It was only after arriving and asking around that we realized nobody seemed to know exactly when the bus we needed was leaving.

Notice the number of people sitting in the bus station... and then how many chairs are occupied.

We had heard 2:00, 2:30, 3pm... Just as we were getting into a solid discussion regarding contingency plans, this pulled up. 

I think this one goes to Pathankot!

A few hours of cramped bus riding later (the above photo was taken before it really filled up) and we arrived at Pathankot train station. Or rather, we got dropped off down the road and across a few sets of tracks from the station; luckily, there was an army guy on the bus who was also going to the train station, so he offered to escort us there.

Only the finest in amenities at the Pathankot train station.

So anyway, we nommed on some super cheap veg thali (40 rupees each) and eventually our train arrived; we had to run to find our car before it started moving again, but we figured it out. Sleeper class was fun, if loud and crowded, and we slept for most of the 13-hour trip anyway.

Brij has hookups, so we managed to get a room in a fancy pants hotel for the next two nights. It wasn't supposed to be until tomorrow, but we were tired and hot and hungry and didn't feel like dealing with searching out a hotel when we finally arrived in Jaipur, so we found a driver and rolled up to one of the most luxurious hotels I've ever been to in a rickshaw, laughing the whole way.

EIGHT pillow options? What luxury is this??

Sooooooooo yeah. We spent last night on tiny vinyl train beds, and tonight we swam in a pool, hung out in a sauna, filled up on free drinks and canapes in lieu of ordering an expensive dinner... and tomorrow morning there's poolside yoga and perhaps another visit to the spa in order. Rajasthan is great so far. ;) I'm all about having the "real India experience," but every now and then it`s nice to be comfortable.

Really comfortable.

Rooftop Yoga

Sometimes when I wake in the middle of the night it takes me a minute to remember where I am. A faint illumination filters in through the window above the balcony door and reflects gently off some of the more prominent features in the room. This morning I woke to just such a scene. I lay there contemplating, trying to mentally crawl out of whatever dream land I'd just been in, for a minute before I remembered: oh yeah, India.

My own place... in India.

I decided that I really do like my room. It lacks some of the comforts of home, but for now, at least, it's ideal. (Close to ideal... I wouldn't mind if it got a little more sunlight.)

This made me happy. I checked my phone and, after finding that it wasn't even 5am yet, rolled back over and promptly passed back out. A few hours later I woke to a considerably brighter room and decided it looked like a good day for yoga.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my mat and my keys, and scampered up to the roof. I'd been wanting to do yoga on the roof here since I first looked at the place.

And so today I did yoga, on the roof, in the Indian morning sunlight. It was every bit as glorious as it sounds.

Despite the fact that exercise invigorates you for the rest of the day, I've always had a tough time getting up early enough to work out before work or school. The fact that I don't have to teach until 11 is working wonders for my ability to finally make this happen. Add to that the fact that the weather was absolutely perfect – low 70s, just a bit breezy, and without a cloud in the sky – and I felt on top of the world.

The fact that I am literally on a mountain probably didn't hurt, either. You can see so far away from up here. It's amazing.

When I returned to my room I flipped on the water heater so I could get a decent shower and did some push ups; my legs get a constant workout whether I like it or not living here, so I figure it'd be in my interest to make sure my upper body gets some attention, too. Speaking of my upper body getting some attention, I had a couple of people ask me about my tattoo today. It was strange, because I often wear short sleeves and I know they've seen it before. Regardless, it led to some new conversation with my students who are always looking to learn about new topics. Yay body art!

I think I am going to acquire a nice set of maps so we can have visual aids for when we discuss the places of the world. They want to see photos from my home. I don't think most of them can comprehend the phrase “my home in the United States is very flat.” The mountains of Himachal are a far cry from the fields of Illinois, that's for sure. They also asked about deserts today, and which country is the biggest in the world, and what's the difference between Austria and Australia? See, I need some maps. The acquisition of such things is the homework I assigned myself for the evening.

Recently I find myself considering the differences between life in the suburban Midwest and life in northern India. I've begun to realize how little you really need in order to have a pretty decent life. In the US we are always so concerned about appearances and having everything be fresh and shiny and new; here, all but the most upscale of establishments have wiggly faucets, most people seem to wear the same four or so outfits again and again, and if something breaks you just patch it up the best you can and hope it lasts a while longer. The size of your personal bubble is much smaller here. You have to develop a tolerance for – or at least the ability to tune out – all the various sounds the human body is inclined to make, especially on a diet of rice and dal in a very dirty environment. (That godawful haucking noise, though... that is one thing I will not miss when I leave India. Ugh. Have a little tact, people.) There's no deodorant anywhere either, but I have a much easier time dealing with that; it's not that hot, so it's not a big deal. Constantly listening to every other person near you hack and cough and spit, on the other hand, gets really old, really fast.

You have to learn to tolerate being very close to all kinds of people. You learn to understand that you will be touched, you will be bumped into, you will probably be splashed by cars on the road because there are no sidewalks to speak of, and you will have to get used to the incessant honking of horns, and taxis, motorbikes, and autorickshaws passing within fractions of an inch of your person. That's just how it goes here. If you let it get to you, you are going to have a very unhappy stay.

I've decided to just roll with it as much as possible. I came in treating this whole experience as an adventure, and let me tell you, I think that has saved my sanity more than a few times. “It's India,” I remind myself. Whatever that means. It works, though. I remind myself that there are however many millions – over a billion, maybe? – people living here that do this every day, and it doesn't seem to faze most of them. It's just life. It's raw, dirty, un-sugar-coated, honest-to-goodness life, and as much as a pain in the ass it may be from time to time, as uncomfortable it can be, and as much as some days I really, really just want a hot tub or dry sheets or for god's sake a decent salad, I am thrilled to be a part of it.

You learn to delight in the small things, like this deliciously juicy kiwi.

It continues to interest and inspire me also that so many of these people seem happy. The Tibetans especially: despite decades of oppression and exile, through innumerable, ongoing human rights violations in their homeland, they are a surprisingly good-natured people. Many of them seem to be pacifists – all they want is peace so they can return to their homes. Many of my students in particular are very eager to learn as much as they can and to improve their English as much as possible. They recognize that English is the international language and that if they acquire a decent level of proficiency in it they will exponentially increase their options as far as career, education, and travel. Perhaps it's because they don't have much to begin with, and perhaps it's because many of them are monks and nuns, but they seem largely uninterested in material gain; they just want a decent education. It's so different from the mentality in the west, where we want an education, sure, but it's only so we can make a bunch of money and buy a big house and pay off all the loans we've no doubt taken out to acquire said education.

When I first graduated high school I felt I was pushed into going off to college. I was smart, went the reasoning, so naturally “real college” was my next step. I wasn't ready for it. I was miserable, and I moved home after one semester. I just needed time. Look at me now: my first time outside my home country and I picked India of all places! That's how I seem to do things, though – think about a situation until I can't take it any more and then do something drastic. I'm not sure that's a good trait, but there you have it. In this case, I think it's all working out just fine. There is so much more to the world than a cubicle and a mortgage, and I've only just started to explore it.

If you are into the cubicle-and-mortgage thing that's cool, it's just not for me. I much prefer the unconventional, even if it's not as cushy and comfortable all the time. What's that saying? Oh yeah: pain lets you know you're alive. I'm not saying I want "pain," per se, but experiencing a bit of hardship now and then helps keep the balance. We all love to be pampered, but without a little difficulty from time to time we get soft and depressed, and that's no fun for anyone. I've had almost 30 years of relative comfort; it's funny how too much of a good thing can be just as detrimental as not enough, isn't it? I knew I needed some perspective, so I got my proverbial ducks in a row and made it happen. Was I scared? Of course I was. But I wanted to be scared. I wanted that rush. I wanted to feel like anything could happen, good or bad. I knew that if I just stayed home and hung out in Chicagoland I'd always wish I'd taken a chance and gone somewhere new. 

I'll admit I'm just a little bit proud of myself for finally being decisive about something big.

Adventure, ho! (The dogs seem unimpressed.)

Glad I got that tetanus shot

People around town are getting excited for the end of the monsoon, and that includes me. This morning I decided to skip the teaching and instead take advantage of the bright, sunny balcony and do some laundry. Last night I actually made the executive decision to wash my pillows and their cases – after I saw how much dirt came out of them, there's no way I could have slept another night on those things. Damn. I'm hoping it's more due to the fact that everything in India is dirty and dusty, and less with the housekeeping of the staff at this establishment.

Regardless, it's my room for at least the next month, and that means ultimately it's up to me to keep it the way I want it. My spoiled American self is adjusting well, I think, to the fact that if I want something done I'd better be prepared to spend some time doing it myself. After I hung and laid out the rest of the laundry I decided to see just how much of the dirt on the window frame was permanent, and to my surprise and delight, the answer was “not much of it.” I had asked, with the help of my good friend and colleague Brij, for them to clean the room prior to my move in last weekend. When I arrived the floor was still a bit damp and so I figured they'd done all they could to ready the place. After I tried out the bed they even switched the mattresses for softer ones and gave me what appeared to be decently clean sheets.

After this morning, though, I realize that there is work to be done. Thank you so much for the new pillow Mom – it came just in time and it will be appreciated like no pillow has been appreciated before! Perhaps it's even my new best friend. I set out for Lower Dharamsala where things tend to cost less because a) I had to pick up a gift that I had made for one of you, and b) I wanted some cleaning supplies.

On the way, I slipped and sustained a bit worse than your average scraped knee.

I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later, but I can't say I was happy at the prospect of having an open wound, wandering around India past the cow turds in the street and the piles of garbage on the corners. It's swollen now, but I've got it cleaned and Neosporin-ed and bandaged up, so I think I should be ok. I don't really want to walk too far tonight though, which means if this is posted on what is Thursday morning for you at home, I have gotten creative with how I access the www. If not, I guess I haven't out-clevered the Indian internet yet. Give it time.

Ok, so the knee got banged up on the way to Lower Dharamsala, which means I sort of limped through town as I ran my errands. Luckily, I only had to stop at 3 places before I decided I'd found a large enough percentage of the things on my list that I could head back and not feel like I wussed out too badly. The sky was also growing progressively darker, and I've lived here long enough to estimate that I probably had an hour at best before it started raining. Did I mention I'd forgotten my umbrella at home?

I asked the tailor where I could pick up “the Jeep” that everyone keeps telling me goes between Lower Dharamsala and McLeod Ganj and costs 10 rupees as opposed to the taxi which will run you 40 (usually only if you at least look Indian and can speak enough Hindi to talk them down), if not more. Ok, it's true 40 rupees or even 100 is not that much money. I've been spending more than I anticipated, though, and so I'm trying to cut back. Besides, I had also heard the bus/Jeep takes a more scenic route and I was interested in that. Oh, and it's what the locals do, taking the bus/Jeep. I'm trying to fit in. All the cool kids are doing it, you know.

Anyway, as luck would have it the bus pulled up as I was just reaching the bus stop (which I don't think has a sign, it's just where everybody congregates and the bus obliges by pausing for a moment) and I hopped on. I was really glad, because by this time my knee was reminding me with every left step that I really shouldn't be putting my weight on it.

The bus trundled its way over the potholed road that wound up to McLeod Ganj through a military base that proudly displayed signs with Indian soldiers brandishing rifles and mustaches, and slogans like “May God have mercy on my enemies – because I won't!” Totally worth the 10 rupees.

Half an hour later the bus pulled in to the bus station in McLeod, which I had never been to. I wasn't even sure what part of the city I was in, to be honest. Of course, just as we got there the clouds decided they'd held in all that moisture plenty long enough, thank you very much, and the daily downpour commenced. “That's cool,” I said to myself. “I can hang here for a little while.” And so I did. I chilled there at that bus station for an hour before I finally got cold and tired of the gaggle of Indian women who had since disembarked their own bus and decided to literally surround the chair I had sat down in and pay absolutely no regard for where their purses and dupattas were swinging as they animatedly chatted with each other. (That's a fancy way of saying it was loud, a little smelly, and I got whacked in the head a couple of times.)

At that point I flagged down an autorickshaw that had pulled in and asked how much it would cost for a ride to the bottom of Temple Road. After a brief clarification on where that was, he told me 80 rupees. I had decided before I asked that I was willing to pay 100, and a tuk-tuk, as they are also called, would be cheaper than an actual taxi, so that's why I tried him first.

The astute among you may notice that I could have just taken a taxi from Lower Dharamsala straight to my place and paid 100 rupees or less for the 15-minute trip, and now instead I'd taken an hour and a half and spent about what I would have anyway, and was cold and a little bit damp on top of the knee injury I'd have had either way. I could have saved myself a lot of time and trouble if I hadn't been so stingy in the first place, eh? Maybe so, but I actually welcomed the chance to just sort of sit near the dhaba (Indian cafe) in the station and watch people, and contemplate my situation. It may not have been the most efficient route, but I think it was the right one for today.

I got up to my room where I carefully counted how many switches I flipped on at once and took a shower. Or at least I tried to. I had left the water heater on all night in hopes that I could be guaranteed a hot shower whenever I wanted it, but that seems to have backfired because the “hot” water was only a step above lukewarm. Whatever, I thought, I just need to clean this knee up. So I did that, put on dry clothes, and decided I'd take it easy by snacking on some dried pineapple and recounting my adventure to you, dear friends.

For all it lacks, it really is kind of nice here. Some days I think I might actually be able to live in India for more than a few months. Maybe a different part of India; I hear Punjab is really nice. I think I'll also check out Thailand. I've had a bunch of people tell me lately that Thailand is like India but cleaner. That sounds fun.

Don't worry, I'll be home in December. I can't make any guarantees how long I'll stick around, though. In a lot of ways India has what I've been saying I wanted: walkable cities, all privately-owned businesses, and people being more concerned with appreciating what they have rather than working to constantly make more money so they can buy things they don't need. I think I'll probably end up going for someplace in between as far as lifestyle. I don't know that I'm ready to permanently give up reliable electricity and hot water, or salad, or nice knitting needles.

New Delhi Noob

So today was my first day actually "in" New Delhi. I'm going to apologize for the lack of photos first, because the internet here is super spotty and it's taking me forever to upload from my phone to my computer. Hopefully that will change when I get to Dharamsala in a couple of days.

Today Kalden and his friend Palsang (a Tibetan monk) and I went to the Red Fort, which was (if I remember the story correctly) built by Emperor Shah Jahan (the same guy who built the Taj Mahal), and there was a big revolt against the British that happened there in the mid-1800s over the fact that some sort of "beef grease" was used in rifles at the time. Cows being sacred to Hindus, which most Indians happen to be, you can see why this would be a problem.

Oh, and yes, I have seen some cows lying in the street, just chilling. And pigs. And one cat. And lots and lots of dogs.

We got some cool photos of the architecture at the Red Fort (which I will upload at some point, I promise). As we walked through and he explained the history of the place, an Indian man who apparently worked there as a guide began chastising him in Hindi, which Kalden later translated to me that he had been angry that Kalden was explaining things instead of hiring a guide. He wanted us to pay him a bribe; Kalden refused, of course, and the guy tore up our tickets. We walked off (well, I just followed because frankly, I had no idea what was going on) and saw the rest of the fort in peace. Afterward, Palsang had  to go to the Chinese Embassy to take care of some paperwork, so Kalden and I headed over to the biggest mosque in Delhi, where they made me take off my shoes and cover up my bare shoulders, and wouldn't let Kalden in since they saw he had a camera. I went in to check it out and wouldn't you know, every third person had a camera. I'm sensing a bit of a double standard around here.

I am kind of digging the whole rickshaw thing. We have been taking pedal rickshaws and autorickshaws around the city, which seem to be able to be hired for about 20 rupees. The subway system here is also really nice. According to Kalden, it's new. It shows. The trains are sleek and quiet, and the subway stations are all sparkly clean. Unfortunately, this stands in a fairly stark contrast to much of the New Delhi "overworld:" there are nice areas but we've also gone through plenty where trash, well, litters the ground, and I've even seen piles of garbage and mounds of actual feces. The toilets are also weird (just a hole and a bucket of water, sometimes a little spray hose, almost never any paper). Plus you have to pay to use the public restrooms. Needless to say, it's an exotic place and that's cool and all, but I can see how I'll miss some of the comforts of home. Like sanitation. I'm keeping in mind, though, that billions of people live like this every day, so there's no good reason I can't manage for a few months. It'll be good for me, right?

I also got to see one of New Delhi's malls, which is strikingly western. So western, in fact, that I had trouble tracking down some "real" Indian clothing; everywhere we turned it was Starbucks, Tommy Hilfiger, McDonald's, even a Haagen-Dazs store. We also visited the Indian National Museum which was full of very cool sculptures of Hindu gods and Buddha, paintings involving an awful lot of cows, and even a human skeleton preserved from some hundreds of years ago.

Almost all of the public places we've gone so far have had security checkpoints in which "ladies" and "gents" form separate lines, put their bags on a conveyor belt into an xray machine, just like at the airport, and you walk through a metal detector and get a quick pat down by an official of your gender. So far I haven't had any problems, but it's a little weird. At least they're generally nicer than the TSA.

Tomorrow evening I board the "very nice Volvo" bus to Dharamsala. Palsang is also going, but on a different bus; a less nice one, perhaps not a Volvo. We should arrive around the same time, so he's going to accompany me to the Charity and make sure I get settled in. A few hours after that is the opening ceremony, and then I'm told I can sleep the rest of the day if I want. Depending on how jet lagged I am (so far, not very), I may, but I think it might be more likely that I check out the charity and try to make a couple new friends, and determine what essentials I might need to pick up from the store. The next day Kalden and Julie, another foreign teacher, will arrive, and he'll help me get settled into whatever room I'll rent for potentially the rest of my stay. I'm going to make "solid internet" a priority when choosing a place. If that's not plausible, I'm going to do my damnedest to find a place in town (Tibet Charity, maybe a library) that does have it so I can stay in touch with all of you. :)

EDIT: Updated to spell Palsang's name correctly. :)