Tso Pema: Lotus Lake

September 30^th, 2013: Day 1 of HH's teachings for a group from Taiwan, and also Day 1 of our trip to Manali. Since there are no classes at Tibet Charity this week, a few of the other teachers and I decided it would be a good time to see another part of India. After some discussion we settled on Manali, an area east of Dharamsala and still in the mountains.

As I understand it, most people who travel to Manali do so for the purpose of hiking. We are not going to be hiking in Manali. We're just going to check it out because it's relatively close.

Seems legit.

More tea fields!

The view from the window of the tiny bathroom at the rest stop.

ALL of the trucks and other large vehicles say this on the back.

In order to get to Rewalsar, the town where we're spending the first night, we had to drive for about 4-5 hours. On winding mountain roads. I am happy to report, however, that no one got sick. Verity thought she was going to at one point but she kept it together. Our driver, Naresh, is very friendly and a darn good driver; he's considerate of the fact that not everyone can take hairpin turns at 30 miles an hour for hours on end.

I spent much of the trip trying to decipher the signs we saw on the road. I'll have you know that I can recognize about half the letters in the Hindi alphabet without much trouble, which I think isn't too bad. I'm working on getting the other half down.

We had to travel through a little city called Mandi.

Hey look! A stop light!

I got some decent scenery shots. It still amazes me how you can see layers and layers of mountains if your vantage point is right.

Eventually we arrived in Rewalsar! It's tiiiiiiiiiiny. Another name for this place is Tso Pema; tso means lake and pema is flower or lotus, therefore “lotus lake.” There's a story about the Buddha or someone appearing in the center of the lake, in the center of a lotus. Currently there is a giant Buddha statue here that you can even see from the mountain road across the valley as you come into town.

You know you're in a Tibetan area when you see a wall of prayer flags.

Embrace your true nature

I love video games.

No, really. I love video games. I don't play as much as I used to, and even in the past I didn't play as much as some people I've known. Still, I've been realizing over the last few months just how big a role they've played in my life. Earlier today I rewarded myself for a very productive morning by watching a movie. As I like to do, I chose one I knew nothing about: Wreck It Ralph.

Come on, doesn't this movie look like SO MUCH FUN??

Somehow this animated gem had eluded my attention until it was sent to me on a jump drive as a possible movie to pass along to my students so they could practice their English listening skills. It's not my first choice as far as that, just because I think they might have some trouble with the content – not much frame of reference for monks and nomads when talking about arcade games – but you'd better believe I had a good time. I think it might be one of my new favorites. It's got everything I love: an underdog as the protagonist, pretty graphics, a fun soundtrack, clever storytelling, and lots and lots of nostalgia. Brilliant! This, combined with the fact that about a month ago I was struck with inspiration for a game-inspired business venture that I'd like to test when I get home, got me thinking:

For as much as I really do enjoy the raw simplicity of living here in India, in a place where animals freely roam the streets, where you do your laundry in a bucket, where the power goes out at least once a day and people just go about their lives..... the technical wonder that is the world of video games really does hold a special place in my heart. I love the adventure, the intrigue, the chance to be anyone... and I suppose yes, you could argue that I am actually doing those things right now, “IRL,” but I guess there's a part of me that is still enchanted by the shiny packaging no matter how hard I sometimes want to believe otherwise. I mean come on, I'm also a belly dancer; you can't deny a penchant for glitz & sparkle is part of that. I love to perform. I love beauty. I'm an artist, dammit, and the four right chords can make me cry. Life itself is beautiful, yes... but sometimes, as the late, great Dave Scheidecker helped me argue in my OO freshman year, we need art not just for art's sake but for ours.

I have historically gone through bouts of feeling like my only gift was an eye for art, and art is ultimately superfluous, and therefore I couldn't offer anything useful to the world. One person in particular took it upon himself to valiantly try to convince me otherwise some years back, but I always had my doubts that art really is genuinely important. Or rather, I feel like when other people do it it can be amazing and inspiring, but my own work somehow always falls short.

Then again, that's part of being an artist. You're always your own worst critic.

I think I may finally be ready to embrace that part of myself. I went to college for a degree in Game Art & Design and dropped out after I decided I didn't want to sit in front of a computer all day (and that it would take an ungodly amount of hours outside of class to develop enough skill to be truly great at my work). “Games,” I thought, “are frivolous. We don't need them. When the power goes out, what good have I done?” Art doesn't keep you warm, it doesn't feed you. It's not practical. I should learn to build something instead, or maybe I should learn something medical. I should apprentice and get a technical job, maybe learn to build solar panels or repair wind turbines. That stuff is useful. Right?

I've tried a variety of those things, and I keep coming back to art. Art is what makes me happy. Creation is where I feel at home. Finding beauty in the world and then finding a way to express it so everyone else can see it too is what makes me feel alive. I still don't particularly want to become a game developer (although since I've discovered Steam and since Steam has rolled out their Green Light initiative, I do consider it now and then), but I think if I can find a way to let games back into my every day life, into my own creativity, I might be better off. And you know what? Maybe it's true that games and art and dance and all the other beautiful, fun things in the world don't truly change anything, but if they make us happy for a while and you indulge responsibly – as with any other potentially addictive but otherwise harmless activity – is it really so useless? Someone has to bring beauty to those who can't find it themselves, and why shouldn't that someone be me?

I still have dreams of introducing a responsible waste disposal system to India, and of course I'd love to see freedom for Tibet... I enjoy teaching and knowing that I am directly affecting people's lives in a way that could truly change the course of their futures. Maybe I'll keep doing that too. I need art for my own happiness, though, and if the simple act of watching a well-done animated film about vintage arcade games can literally bring me to tears, if my mind wanders during a lecture and all I can think about for days afterward is an as-yet-secret-project that is also very directly related to game culture, if every so often I can't rest until I've drawn my own version of an NPC because I think the devs dropped the ball on making that one boss as terrifying as she should have been... and especially if something I do can also bring beauty and happiness to someone else, and especially if that someone else is willing to spend some cash to get it, then why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I embrace my geekiness, embrace the fact that I'm a gamer kid at heart even if I don't actually spend many hours with a controller anymore, and see if I can make a living off of bringing joy to others like myself?

For some of us, games are not just a fun activity to do at parties with friends. They aren't (always) a waste of time. For some of us, games are a part of who we are. I've felt guilty about it and I've tried to deny it, but I've had some time for introspection since I've been here, away from everyone and everything I've ever known, and one of the things I've come to understand is that maybe it's just part of who I am. There has to be a balance, of course, but maybe the world of video games is not as superfluous and unnecessary as I was once convinced. Maybe it's a tool, a stepping stone on which to be inspired to create even more art and beauty and community. Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

My name is Magda Ksiazak, and I am a gamer. I'm an artist, a dreamer, and a creator. I'm through letting people, society, and my own self-consciousness tell me it's immature and something to hide, and I'm going to make it work for me. There is a whole community of us out there, and I think I'm ready to be proud to be a part of it.

Game on, my friends.

Day trip with the Director

Yawn. It's been a long day.

Every semester one or more trips are organized by Tibet Charity for the volunteer teachers as a thank you for coming all the way to the Himalayas to teach their students. When you volunteer to teach here you definitely don't do it for the pay; we don't get a paycheck, we don't get our flights paid for, we don't get accommodation provided for us. We get free lunch every week day and occasional other perks like today's day trip to a (relatively) nearby Tibetan settlement called Bir (say “beer” and roll the R).

The Director accompanied us. This was an important aspect of the trip, because the first place we stopped was at a school for Tibetan children in Chauntra. He used to be the principal there some ten years ago.

See the egret in the tea field?

This dog ran right up to me once we got out of the taxi. They are so friendly!

A sapling planted in 1998 at the school.

The students assembled! They sang songs.

They had the day off today for a fete. There were stations set up all over the school yard, and someone said each child had been given 180 rupees to spend on games.

Guess how much this bucket weighs! It's kilos, not pounds.. so we Americans had to do some math as well.

We were shown around the campus. The kids at this school learn exclusively in Tibetan until around age 10, when they are taught English. They then learn in these languages until age 15 or 16 or so, when they are then introduced to Hindi. They only take a bit of Hindi, enough to communicate in everyday life around India.

They are also taught a number of handicraft skills. This helps explain the number of Tibetan handicraft shops around McLeod Ganj.

Some of the students' paintings.

More paintings.

Yep, chalkboard.

Flower pot making class! (Seriously, I'm not kidding.)

Traditional stone carving.

Oh look! They have a kniting class!

Check out that intarsia!

Where do I sign up?

In the girls' dormitory we found a group of students having a snack. They told us their typical schedule consisted of waking at 5am, doing yoga, having food, debating, “self-study,” morning prayer... and then some other things they didn't specify... and then they had to be in bed about 9 o'clock in the evening.

Mantra about calming your mind, outside the meditation/prayer room.

Inside the prayer room.

Tsering, Gusti, and Gill looking over the courtyard.

Tsering-la with one of the few students who was at the school when he was principal. She was in kindergarten at the time.

Tsering-la and Verity talking in the dormitory. A friend of his made those stuffed animals for the kids so they wouldn't feel homesick.

We visited a monastery.

Big Buddha.

At lunch we had a really interesting discussion with the Director about some of the finer points of the Tibetan/Chinese “situation,” as most people tend to call it. He told us that Tibetans have “ICs,” or Identity Cards, in lieu of passports because they are legally considered stateless citizens since Tibet is not recognized as a country. Those who live in India, such as himself, must apply for a visa extension every few years even though they may have been born here and/or lived here their entire lives.

He told us how visas are granted to Tibetans in Tibet on the basis of pilgrimage or education. There have been stories of people going to Nepal or other neighboring areas to work for a few months so they could honestly say they had left Tibet for work as opposed to study; if they cannot provide proof of enrollment in an educational institution they risk getting in trouble with the Chinese police, and that is not something you want.

Many Tibetans in exile don't have contact with their relatives in Tibet because it's simply too risky. In Chinese-controlled areas like the capital, Lhasa, you can be arrested for simply carrying a photograph of the Dalai Lama (at least one of my friends here has had this happen). Can you even imagine?

After lunch we visited a noodle factory,

The Director bought a few (kilos of) noodles.

and then another monastery. This one belongs to the sect of Buddhism the Karmapa comes from. There are four sects of Tibetan Buddhism. The Dalai Lama is the head of one but he also leads them all. Each other sect has its own leader, and the Karmapa is one of them. The Dalai Lama and the Karmapa are both believed to be reincarnations of the original holder of their respective titles. Apparently there is currently some dispute over the identity of the true reincarnation of the Karmapa. The Director told us that the matter has gone to a court for ruling. We discussed how this doesn't make much sense, having a civil institution rule on matters of religion – just as how in the US religious institutions are constantly trying to meddle in civil matters. It just doesn't make sense. Separation of church and state is a glorious thing, and it's important to maintain it. We also discussed how it would be great if less money were spent on religion and more on education.

Painted, carved wood around the doorways.

Lots of intricate detail in the paintings.

Look at these sculptures! They're made of BUTTER AND WAX.

We were able to get an audience with the leader of this particular monastery, Tai Situ Rinpoche. He's a lama and one of the teachers of the man regarded by the majority of Tibetans to be the true reincarnation of the Karmapa. He was very welcoming and spoke excellent English; his knowledge of geography was also better than most Americans I know. The walls of his receiving room were lined with small Buddha statues peeking out from the glass of cabinets on the walls; a quick calculation and I determined that there were 96 of them in all. His chair and the low table in front of him were ornately carved. Gifts and offerings covered every available surface.

We asked if he could give us a brief teaching on the dharma and he offered us this:

Don't do anything harmful or negative.

Do everything positive.

Tame your mind.

Twelve hours later and we're back in McLeod Ganj having some mixed veg and roti for dinner. Oh, and no car sickness! Ha, I told you I'd be prepared the next time! Now I've got a day to pack for our trip to Manali. Hmm, what to take...?