Honorary Tibetans

I returned to my room last night with the intention of thinking up "a few words" to say at the closing ceremony for this semester, per Rinzin's request. I didn't have any luck. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that you can't force these kinds of things; if the mojo isn't flowing, go to bed and hope that it's better in the morning.

So that's what I did. As luck would have it, I woke up with all kinds of ideas for what I should say. I ran through it in my head for a few minutes, hopped up and took a nice, hot shower, and then sat down and typed. It's been a little while since I had to write a speech -- it was nice and nostalgic. See, being on the speech team and writing OOs for 4 years prepared me for the real world! I win!

I proofread it quickly and decided that exactly one page was the perfect length; I gave myself plenty of time to get dressed because I, like a few of the other teachers, decided to wear a chupa to the ceremony. They aren't difficult to put on, per se, but like anything new, I knew it'd take a little getting used to. Last week I'd had one custom made by Tibetan tailors in McLeod Ganj with fabric I bought down in Lower D'sala. THE FABRIC HERE IS SO CHEAP, and there is so much of it! I wish I could just load up my suitcases with the stuff and bring it home. Sadly, fabric is also heavy, there's a 50# weight limit on checked bags, and I have other things I need to bring back.

In my humble opinion, a chupa is a little easier to figure out than a sari. Saris are just 4 meters (give or take) of 1-meter-wide fabric. There are a whole bunch of different variations on how you can wrap them, but there's a basic technique you've got to get down. Chupas are more like dresses with a blouse underneath. I find them elegant, even the utilitarian ones.

For those of you keeping track, I now possess a wardrobe that includes traditional Indian clothing in the form of saris and salwar kameez, and traditional Tibetan clothes, my new chupa. In fact, I got such good feedback and the thing was so darn comfortable I decided to get a couple of more blouses made to go with it. I figure I can also copy the pattern and make more when I get home if I decide to.

Anyway, I managed to get into my nice new outfit and over to Tibet Charity with enough time to run upstairs and print off my speech. Everyone acted surprised and feigned intimidation when they saw I'd actually written something. To tell the truth, I hadn't planned on going up there with anything more than notes, but it just happened that I thought of a few specific things I wanted to say and besides, I didn't want to get caught up rambling. It was only one page. Come on, that's practically nothing.

We arrived at Tibet Charity and were instructed to sit at the table in front, with all the students seated on the ground in front of us.

Mr. Director-la gave a short speech and then Rinzin, the coordinator of the education section, said a few words and asked each of us volunteer teachers to do the same. The speeches were all touching. Each of us talked about the sincere pleasure it has been to work with the students here, how it has been a life-changing experience we will never forget, how we are all grateful to have been able to come here. I was confident that I wouldn't cry during my speech (for some reason... history is not on my side here), but my voice did get a little shaky when I talked about how welcome they'd all made me feel. I told them I hope they understand how strong their sense of community is and how special and powerful that is, because it doesn't exist everywhere, and not everyone has that. I'm pretty sure I saw one of my students recording the whole thing, so maybe you'll be able to look it up on YouTube...

I didn't cry though, and we finished the rest of the ceremony with no glitches aside from the fact that there was some sort of bulldozer operating in the lot next to TC. That was a little distracting. Luckily, I was on the speech team (as I believe I mentioned previously), so I know how to project my voice.

Afterward tea and snacks were served and many photos were taken. (Photo credit for everything in this post goes to Neil. Thanks, Neil!) You can contact him at

The 4 on the left are my students: Tandin from Bhutan, and Jampel, Karma, and Yangchen from Tibet.

The Tibet Charity nurses in their signature purple chupas.

My students insisted we go up to our classroom "because they had something for me." Gusti and I followed them upstairs, they sat us down in chairs at the front of the room, and two of our top students, Jampel and Yangchen, said a few words about how they were so thankful to us for everything we'd done over the semester. They presented us with the white katas the Tibetans use to show respect to one another. Each of our students in turn came up with a scarf for each of us; by the end of it all I had so many of them I looked like a yeti.

 
I am not ashamed to admit that about 2/3 of the way through something clicked in my brain, some connection was made, maybe regarding the finality of it all, and, well... I didn't make a whole lot of effort to stop the tears from coming. My students are so damned sweet. I'm going to miss them.

We took more and more photos. Some of the pre-intermediate students I hadn't actually had in class for the last few months wanted photos with me.

After everyone finally left for the day, I went home to change my clothes and then returned to Tibet Charity for lunch. The plan was for a small group of us volunteers to head down to Lower Dharamsala to buy a whole bunch of supplies for Tibet Charity with funds that we'd donated. There had been discussion in the previous weeks about how best to spend the donation; we eventually decided to get a range of consumables, like toilet paper and toner for the printer, as well as a few infrastructure-type things like a water filter and some kitchen equipment. It was fun little adventure.

In the evening, the volunteer teachers all went out for one last dinner before those of us who haven't gone yet start leaving town. The other Americans are heading out tomorrow morning, Van will be going a couple of days later, and I, one of the first to arrive, will be the last to go, on Wednesday evening. Now that the end is basically here, I feel like I could stay another few months. Maybe not so much in the winter... the nights are already quite cold. There isn't any heat in most buildings, either, so that means wearing layers and piling on the blankets. It's not so bad. It just kind of makes it tough to get out of bed in the morning.

I'll be glad to have a heated bedroom again in another week. How ridiculously cold is it in Illinois these days?

Our Elementary level class! I'm so proud!!

***If anyone is interested in donating to Tibet Charity:
For reasons involving a fair amount of bureaucracy and governmental red tape, it's better to send "stuff" than money. TC could use learning aids like flash cards, games, ESL readers, or even any books that are in good shape and written in relatively simple English. If you want more details or other ideas, send me a message and I'd be happy to make a list based on my experience here.

Tibet Charity
Lower Temple Road
McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala, Kangra Distt.
Himachal Pradesh, India 176219 ***

Pizza & Momos

This is it. I'm done teaching at Tibet Charity. Final exams were held yesterday; most of my students passed (a few of them have the extra credit to thank for that) and some did exceptionally well. 

Today Gusti and I took them out for a pizza party in Dharamkot. The students brought some momos, we ordered ten delicious pizzas, and everyone had a lot of fun.

They kept telling me to sit down and relax, but I can't help it -- I enjoy entertaining and if I'm in anything resembling a hostess position, I tend to get into it. I asked them if they have winter holidays coming up in Tibetan/Bhutanese culture aside from New Year's. They said no, but asked about what we've got in the US. I told them all about Thanksgiving (Happy T-day to my friends in the States!), which most of them seemed quite interested in, and they asked all kinds of questions about turkeys. I don't think they have them here. I told them how most Americans prepare a big meal for this holiday so the fact that we were all out having food together was, in a way, quite similar. It's like they'd gotten together to make a Thanksgiving-away-from-home for me, and they seemed pleased that they could do this.

They insisted on doing everything. The students wouldn't let Gusti or me cut the pizzas, they wouldn't let us serve the food, and they always gave us the first slices when a fresh one would come out. Tibetans can be very bossy, but when it's in the context of such hospitality, how can you get upset?

After finishing our lunch and taking a bunch of photos on a dozen different cameras, phones, and tablets, they instructed us to follow them "up to the mountain." When I asked how far they answered "not far," but pointed to some indefinite area wayyyyyyyy off in the distance. I joked that it would take so long I'd miss my flight home. I hadn't worn the proper shoes for a real hike; I knew we'd be taking pictures so I opted to wear my red jutis that I got in Jaipur. People have been telling me they're more like house shoes. This bothered me at first, but then I remembered: I don't wear shoes in the house. If they're shoes, and I'm wearing them, it's going to be outside.

I pointed this out to them, that I wasn't wearing anything that could possibly pass for hiking shoes. Jampel, the one monk, told me "the Bhutan guys are very strong, they'll carry you!" to which the "Bhutan guys" responded that Tibetans were stronger (it's true, they tend to be tall and tough in general), but one way or another they'd get me where we were going.

This is Dolker. She's super sweet, and a pretty good student, too.

The view just never gets old.

Eventually we came to a Hindu shrine where we took some more photos and then backtracked just a little to a grassy spot where we could chill, sing songs, and munch on snacks for a while.

When we finally headed back down to McLeod Ganj, they insisted on taking a shortcut -- the same shortcut that Kalden, Brij, Marie, and I took when we went up to Triund that one time. At one point my foot slipped a bit and I heard a chorus of "Ohhh!" from the students who were in the lead and down below us. Lobsang Dolma, one of my quietest but most thorough students, insisted on holding my hand the rest of the way to make sure I didn't fall, even though she had also earlier insisted on carrying my bag as well as Gusti's, even though she already had her own. "Tibetans are very strong," I observed. They asked me if the roads were "like this" where I live; I told them no, only in the forests in some places. Generally they are in much better condition. They seemed to take this as a perfectly good explanation as to why they could navigate the rocky, irregular path so much more easily than us westerners.

Regardless, we made it down with no casualties. What we had originally planned to be a 3-hour event turned into one that lasted all morning and into the afternoon. It was fantastic. I love the comfort level that you reach with people after seeing them nearly every day for weeks or months, and when the official business or class or whatever is done, everyone can just relax and have a good time together. This evening we had our last staff/volunteer dinner at TC, tomorrow morning we have our closing ceremony for the semester, for which I still have to put together a speech of some sort, and after that.... we're all done. I just have to tie up my loose ends around town as far as last-minute gift obtainment, pay my bill at the hotel, eat at my favorite restaurants once or twice more, pack up all of my stuff -- and decide what's not coming back with me -- and that's it. Get on a night bus to Delhi next Tuesday or Wednesday evening, make sure I tell my students ahead of time because I know at least a couple will want to see me off, and go. Exactly one week from this very moment I'll be somewhere in Indira Gandhi International Airport, maybe waiting to go through security, maybe chilling at my gate with a book, but I'll be having my final few hours in India. 

Four months sure flies when you're having fun. I knew it would.

Where should I go for my next trip? I've got a couple of places in mind, but I'm interested to see what kind of input I can get from my dear readers......

Down to the Last Few Days

Well, that's it. I taught my last day of class at Tibet Charity today. Tomorrow we have final exams, Thursday is a free day -- during which many of the teachers are having a little party or somesuch for their students; Gusti and I are taking ours out for pizza -- Friday is the closing ceremony, and that's it. Done. I have zero obligations thenceforth until I leave the country less than a week later.

I think my students will do well. Rather than give them a cumulative final I opted to just have a last chapter test. It seems shorter and easier than the others, so I hope they all do well. Today was a review day; we went over everything that will appear on the test and most of them took what appeared to be comprehensive notes, so I hope they study a bit and show me what they can do.

After class I met with Lobsang again, one of the pre-intermediate students, and we went over the material that was likely to be on his test tomorrow. They've been working on nothing/something/anything and how to use phrases like so do I, so can I, so have I, neither have I, etc. It's tricky trying to explain why you use one over the others sometimes, but what we decided on is you only really use so have I or neither have I when the sentence you're responding to appears in present perfect tense ("I have lived here for 5 years" -> "So have I", but "I live here" -> "So do I"). I'm not sure if this works in every case or even most of them, but it seemed to do the trick enough to at least get him through this test. He told me about how this class is the first English class he's taken; up until this point all the English he knows he learned from self-study and from asking people. It's inspiring. Many of my students are inspiring. Today I got the first real pang of sadness, knowing that in just a short time I'll be leaving them for a while, perhaps forever. I hope some of them keep in touch.

Lobsang walked me part of the way home because it was getting dark by the time we finished studying. One thing I like about India is that so many people seem concerned for one another. Their sense of personal space is much smaller than it is in the west; you see people walking down the street hand in hand all the time. The most noticeable difference is that most of them are men. It's very unusual to see two people of the opposite sex holding hands here, but two guys? I see it all the time. Two women? Also not weird, though considerably less common. Many of my students and friends here have offered to walk me home at various points throughout my stay, the monks especially. The sense of community here is strong, and I've felt welcomed from very early on.

I'll miss it. I'll miss them.

I've been getting asked a lot if I'll come back to India in general, and Dharamsala in particular. I tell them the truth: Probably not for a while, but I'd like to at some point. I like it here. It isn't perfect, but it's got a sort of honesty about it that I can appreciate. If you've never been to India, you should check it out. It's not as scary as the MSM would have you believe.

Supporting the local economy

मेरे दोस्तों नमस्ते !
I'm the kind of person who likes to sleep in. Mornings like today are somewhat uncommon: I woke up an hour before my alarm went off (even though I didn't go to bed until 2am), energized and ready to Get Shit Done. I even surprised myself.

I'm now well within my last two weeks here in India, which means it's finally time to buy all the souvenirs and things I want to take home. I had been putting it off because buying more stuff would mean I'd have more stuff to store, and with a trip to Rajasthan in the mix, during which I left the rest of my possessions with a friend, it didn't make sense to add to the amount of things I'd have to cart back and forth. I don't imagine I'll be moving again before my final trip to Delhi, so now the shopping can commence.

If any of you want something specific, tell me now. If you want something specific and expensive, I'll send you my Paypal address so you can get those dollas to me.

I went into McLeod Ganj for breakfast, enjoying a satisfying chicken sandwich with mango & coriander chutney on the patio, in the sun, at Moonpeak Espresso. I haven't been there in a while. On my way, I stopped in to a shop to take a look at something specific on my list for a gift. The middle-aged Indian proprietor smiled a lot and wasn't pushy at all; when I asked in Hindi if he had what I was looking for, he became excited as well. We talked for a few minutes, him showing me various items on the shelves in his tiny store, and even though I felt like it must have been painful for him to endure my butchery of his native language when he clearly could speak mine, he complimented me, saying that my Hindi was "bohut sunder" -- very beautiful -- and that I sound like I've been speaking it for a long time. 

All I have to say is LOL. Thanks, sir, but I don't entirely believe you. It's sweet of you to say, though.

After breakfast I headed up to the ATM because, well, the whole point of going in to town today was to shop and I needed funds. Over the last 4 months I have made friends with one of the shopkeepers near said ATM. The guys over there tend to hang out outside because their shops are tucked back from the street; it's easier to grab customers if they're more visible.

Taj showed me all kinds of pretty things, of which I purchased a few unique pieces for gifts this upcoming Xmas (lucky you if you get one of them!). He made a comment that he'd give me the "local price" because I'd been here long enough that "now you are a local." I told him "Baria!" to which he responded with a surprised "and now you also speak Hindi!" He was kind enough to let me practice a bit, only reverting back to English when I really had no idea how to get my point across otherwise. It's so much fun. It's like decoding a puzzle.

I try to speak in Hindi as much as I can, because that's the only way to get better at it, not to mention more comfortable with it. Most of the people I do this with seem initially surprised but then appreciative; I have had a couple of Indians tell me that many foreigners come to Dharamsala because it's a Tibetan area, and the Indian locals get looked over or even looked down on. This is unfortunate, of course, but it works in my favor in a way because I stand out as "that foreigner who has actually bothered to learn our language." Obviously I support the Tibetan community as well -- it's the reason I came here, after all; I do volunteer at a place called Tibet Charity -- but there's a different sort of inclusion I feel when I bust out what little Hindi I have with the Indians. It's like I immediately gain a bit of status in their eyes, like I really am more "local." Sometimes, in my desire to use it as much as I can, I catch myself nearly speaking Hindi with my students or other expats who only understand English... it's pretty funny.

One thing I enjoy about McLeod Ganj and Dharamsala is being able to say at least "hello" in a few different languages. I know how to say this and "thank you" in Tibetan, and that's pretty much it -- but there's something exciting about walking down the street and greeting Tibetans with tashi delek, then passing a westerner or two and telling them hi, and responding to the Indian shopkeepers' "Hello, Madam" or "How are you?"  or "Yes, taxi?" -- it's like navigating a town full of NPCs, I swear -- with a namaste or thik, aap kaise hai? or nahin, thank you bhaiya. I feel so multicultural.

Uncounting

The end of the fall semester at Tibet Charity is rapidly approaching. Classes end on the 26th, final exams are the next day, and then Friday there is a closing ceremony. I'm having a chupa made just for me for the closing ceremony, and I'm pretty pumped about it. I think it'll look nice, and the color should coordinate nicely with the new juties I got in Jaipur.

A couple of my Pre-Intermediate students have been asking me for help studying for their final. I've met with both of them the last few nights; I haven't seen either of them in a while. The one also said we are going to have to go have lunch sometime before I leave India. It's nice to be appreciated.

The current chapter in my class deals with countable vs. uncountable nouns, and today we introduced how much and how many. Teaching English can be tricky because it's hard to give students "rules" to follow; you tell them an uncountable noun, like "bread" (you say "some bread," not "a bread"... usually) can be made countable by adding the phrase "a piece of" in front of it: a piece of bread. Some rice becomes a piece of rice. No problem, right? Some meat and a piece of meat, some fish becomes a piece of fish... Then you get to some butter/a piece of butter and it starts sounding a little funny. It still works, though. When you make it to some grapes... well. Have you ever said "a piece of grapes"? I didn't think so. Regardless, they are handling it well. The end of the semester is always fun because everyone relaxes a bit. I'm not a huge advocate of keeping a distance between myself and my students; I want them to be comfortable with me and have fun in class, because that's how you learn best. Interested students are studious students. We laugh even more now than we did early in the semester; they understand more colloquialisms (today we went through "it doesn't matter," "got it," "leftovers," and other similar phrases) and give clever responses to my questions.

My hope is to make it through this chapter by the time finals roll around. We're just shy of halfway, with three days of class remaining. The power was out the entire class period today, so that meant we couldn't do any of the listening exercises that came with the textbook. We focused more on speaking and how to phrase questions and answers instead. I like to have a review day before each exam; I don't think we'll get a whole day this time, but I'm definitely going to try to give them at least half of one. Hopefully they'll all have done their homework.

I'm going to miss them when I go. I've collected a few email addresses; I'd like to keep in touch with as many of them as I can. I've met so many interesting people here in India, from so many different backgrounds. Some of the Tibetans were born here, in exile, and others have stories of crossing the mountains on foot, traveling at night because there was less risk of being caught that way. All of them dream of someday returning to Tibet. I've met some very cool Indians, and a couple of my fellow expats have entered the ranks of my best friends. As always, part of me can't wait to get home and see all of you -- but another part of me knows that I'll miss this place once I go. Even now, with two weeks remaining, I feel like I'm not entirely here. I haven't totally unpacked my bags in my new place; I'm not going to. I don't want to get too settled, because I'm just going to have to undo it all in a handful of days anyway. I've now stayed at 4 of the hotels near Tibet Charity. I feel like a nomad. I can definitely understand how people get addicted to traveling... it's been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It's just what I needed, and I'm so grateful to everyone who helped make it happen.

Feel the Love

As luck would have it, now that I'm within my last couple of weeks here, I seem to be making all kinds of friends. The managers at two of the local hotels -- New Varuni House and Villa Paradiso, stay at one of these if you are ever in town -- have been incredibly kind and hospitable, especially since I arrived back in town this weekend. The girls at the cafe down the street are absolute sweethearts, and of course I made some friends in the soldiers from the train the other night. A couple of the students from the Pre-Intermediate class that I taught at the beginning of the semester, that I had since handed off to Brij and he to Jill, found me in Tibet Charity and specifically asked if I would help them study for an upcoming test because they preferred my teaching methodology. The guys here at Varuni seem to enjoy my efforts to speak the local language; they ask me "Aap kaisi hai?" when I come downstairs and smile broadly when I respond in Hindi. Being able to talk to the locals really does open up an entirely new world. I wish I'd started sooner.

Oh well. Better late than never, right? I keep watching Benny Lewis's videos for inspiration -- if he can learn enough Polish in an hour to hold a rudimentary conversation, why can't I learn enough Hindi to do the same in, say, a couple of weeks? The answer is laziness, lol. I think I know more than I realize; my vocabulary is so-so and every day I can pick out more and more words when I listen to other people talk. Indians tend to speak very fast, though, which can get intimdating... fast. Now that I can read the language, it makes things a bit easier. Brij and I made a good travel team: I could read signs, and he could tell me what the words meant. Together we were unstoppable! Well.. we could find our way around, at least.

My plan is to continue studying Hindi even after I get home. Recognizing words in conversation feels like I'm suddenly in on a secret, like I've got the means to decode the, well, code. Just as I do at home when foreigners attempt to speak English, many of the people here seem to appreciate the fact that I'm at least making an effort, even if the end result is less than polished. It's intimidating, especially when most people also speak English. I've found that a lot of them aren't interested in conversing with me in Hindi because I clearly speak English; either it's less hassle for them, or they want to practice their foreign language skills. That's ok. Now that I've gotten over the initial barrier of just getting started, I'm more motivated to learn. It doesn't seem quite so unmanageable. I've developed a familiarity for the sound of the language and I try to work it into conversation as much as I can, even if it's only a few words here and there. I expect when I get home I'll be ordering at restaurants in Hindi out of habit. ;)

I feel like I'm more on a roll with it now. I kind of wish I could stay another couple of months and really work on it........ I guess if nothing else it's a good excuse to schedule another trip to India, eh?

Back to Class

While I was in Rajasthan, Gusti and my class managed to get through two chapters in the textbook. They  had a test scheduled for today -- I try not to have them fall on Mondays, but we're in crunch time now so I just went with it; plus I haven't been here to object -- so I figured it would make for a nice, easy segue back into teaching mode.

When a few of my students saw me in the hall before class I got surprised looks and excited hellos. It was like they didn't expect me to actually come back after my trip! I suppose, to be fair, I had told them I'd be gone "2 or 3 weeks," and at the time I had been leaning more toward 2, so maybe it's not unreasonable that they thought I just decided to stay.

They were curious about my trip so I told them briefly about some of the highlights: riding camels in the desert, the broken train on the way back... but some of them tend to make use of the full 2 hours allowed on test day, so I didn't want to cut into that too much.

They seemed to struggle with the test. Even my strongest students regarded their papers with furrowed brows and made extra use of their erasers. Everyone took longer than usual to finish. I had to clarify a bunch of points, and even then they seemed to have trouble.

They all finished, though, and on time.

I just finished grading the stack of exams, and oh my goodness... they aren't looking very good. I'm not sure what happened, but they definitely weren't lying when a bunch of them told me as they turned in their papers that the test was "very difficult." I wound up giving everyone an extra 10 percentage points so their final grades wouldn't be too thrown out of whack; we won't have time to re-take them, and since I wasn't here to make sure they understood the material, I can't say for sure what happened. When everyone in a class fails to understand, though, I don't think you ought to punish the students because clearly something else is up. Maybe the material was too difficult, maybe they rushed through it... I'm not sure, but it's my opinion that a student's understanding of the material is far more important than a grade, and if they can communicate effectively in English then I see no reason to bum them out with poor marks when it's probably not their fault anyway.

It's for this same reason that I'm with Van on the subject of recognizing the top 2-3 students in each class at our closing ceremony (we're against it): it doesn't matter if you get better scores than your peers, what matters is being able to use the language.

Anyway, I'm glad that's over. I think we may spend most of class tomorrow going over the test and trying to understand what the heck happened.

On a completely unrelated note, the areas around my hometown got hammered by tornadoes yesterday. It's my understanding that most of the damage was to property; relatively few people were injured. I wish I were there to help out. :( This is the first time I really felt the distance from home: there's insanity happening near a great many of the people I care about, and there's not a damned thing I can do aside from follow it online. A friend sent me this message (I hope you don't mind me reposting it, you-know-who-you-are):

You travel across the world to help refugees and thus inadvertently escape the apocalypse back home. I don't believe in karma or anything, but yeah. Karma.

Huh. I hadn't even thought of it like that.