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?

Where has the time gone?

Bus ticket has been booked. Flight has been confirmed. Pretty much all the other foreign volunteers have gone...

And in less than 24 hours, I'll be on my way out of Dharamsala. It's so nuts to think about... Four months ago it seemed like I'd be here forever, and now my bags are packed and I've spent the last three days meeting with friends and students, saying goodbyes. I've met some really fantastic people during my stay in Himachal; I hope I can keep in touch with at least a few of them.

My aunt and uncle told me years ago that college would be the best years of my life, that I'd make the friendships there that would last the rest of my years. It didn't really happen that way. Sure, I made a handful of great friends, most of whom I keep in touch with thanks to the magic of Facebook, but for the most part college just wasn't for me.

This, though... I think this is what they meant. It's on this trip that I feel like I've grown and come into my own. I'm ready to tackle some new directions in life; I've got a bunch of great new people who have earned places in my heart. It's a great feeling.

That being said, I'm full of a mix of emotions. I'm glad to be getting home to see friends and family, but I'll definitely miss this place and the people here. I was offered a job, invited back for a wedding, and asked by at least a dozen different people if I'd be back next year. I don't know, guys. Maybe the year after. I've got to earn some money before I can afford to do the volunteer thing again, and get some things sorted out in my "real" life. I'm ready for it, though. I needed a break, I needed something totally different -- and I got it, and now I think I'm refreshed and ready to take care of business.

Bring it on, Life.

For those of you in the States, my plan is to reactivate my phone # on Thursday so I can turn off airplane mode once I land. I'll do my best to answer your messages in a timely fashion. ;)

It's been fun, McLeod. Maybe we'll meet again someday.

A Motorbike Adventure, and Kashmiri Hospitality

The countdown is moving faster all the time! I'm now in my last 48 hours in McLeod Ganj. It's amazing how you can feel like you're getting things done but once the deadline gets close enough, it seems like there's no way you'll accomplish everything you want to before you go.

Yesterday I went on an adventure with Neil. I know early on I swore I'd never get on a motorbike here in India, but the circumstances were such that I decided I'd take my chances in this particular instance. We rode the back way out of Lower Dharamsala, where I'd never been before, through a little village called Khanyara, and into the mountains. When the road got bad enough we were worried about the bike surviving the trip, we parked it and walked the rest of the way.

We found a valley full of slate (I think?) with a river at the bottom. We made our way down to the river where we took photos and video of the rushing water before finding a big, flat rock to use as a picnic area and eat our lunch. It's pretty amazing... looking at the way the rocks in the sides of the valley had clearly moved due to some kind of tectonic activity at one point or another was stunning. Millions -- billions -- of shards of rock littered the ground; it was like a geological boneyard. Standing there pondering this, I couldn't help but think that nature is so huge and so incredible, the sheer randomness of everything that happens in the world is poetry on a huge scale. In the grand scheme of things, none of it means anything... and yet there is such detail and such beauty and such intricacy that it feels like there's no way we could possibly ever discover everything there is to see.

The world felt enormous beyond comprehension.

A gigantic boulder "menacing the path," as Neil said.

Can you see the caves?

As it has since I returned from Rajasthan, once the sun goes down the temperature drops ten degrees within a matter of minutes, and then keeps on going. We rolled back into McLeod Ganj bundled up in multiple layers. The guys at New Varuni House, where I'm staying, had invited me for dinner around 8/8:30. At about ten after I got a call on my room phone informing me that food was ready and I should come downstairs.

I should know by now that the Indian definition of "come for dinner" is a bit different from the American one. What they meant was "Come down for snacks, drinks, and conversation, and we'll have dinner in a couple of hours." Regardless, I had a good time hanging out with Sanjay and Anil as we talked about all kinds of things. Apparently the Kashmiris are known for their hospitality, and these guys definitely lived up to the standard. We had aloo gobi (that's potatoes & cauliflower for those of you less familiar with Indian food), a chicken dish that isn't on the menu, and chapatti (roti/bread). I mentioned that they didn't offer channa masala on the menu (chickpeas) and that it's my favorite -- Sanjay told me that as a matter of fact, they bought some channa earlier and they'd be happy to make it up for me before I left.

So that's what I'm getting ready to do right now: go down and have some channa masala made just for me. :3 If last night is any indication, I won't be making it back to my room until midnight or so, so I'd be wise to tidy up a bit before I go. My bus ticket is booked for Wednesday evening, I finished all but the last few tiny bits of shopping today (Sanjay even offered to drive me out to Bhagsu to look for one piece in particular), and so I figured I'd start packing. I'm pretty sure by the time I give most of my old clothing to some of the locals and toss things I neither want nor need, I should be able to fit everything else into one checked bag, a carry-on, and a personal item (admittedly one that just barely falls within the measurement restrictions).

Earlier today I met Kalden and Van for lunch since Van was all set to leave for Delhi this evening. One by one, the volunteers are leaving. I was one of the first to get here and it seems I'm the last to leave. I've been saying goodbye to all the friends and acquaintances I've made here; there are a handful of people I wish I'd gotten to know better, earlier. So it goes. I guess it gives me extra incentive to come back.

Birthday Cake

Tibet Charity was closed today because the local Tibetan Children's Village school was having a celebration. This being an important day for the Tibetan community in general, a bunch of stores around town were closed, too. Gill, Gusti, and the two Danish doctors who recently arrived to volunteer at TC went; I had planned on going but wound up packing instead.

Because, you see, this morning Brij managed to get us train tickets to Rajasthan. I had begun to wonder if it was ever actually going to happen. It's official though – tomorrow evening we've got tickets for a train from Pathankot (we'll get a bus there from McLeod Ganj) to Jaipur, and from Jaipur we'll travel around Rajasthan for a couple of weeks before I come back to Dharamsala, Brij goes to Gujrat and then back west, and Marie, who is supposed to be meeting us in Jaipur, continues her journey around India.

I'm only taking one backpack with me, I think. This is great, except for the fact that it means I have to store everything else I've got in my possession here. It's not an ideal situation, but it could certainly be worse. I'm moving out of my room at Pause Dwelling because, frankly, I don't want to pay 2-3 weeks worth of rent if I'm not even going to be in the same state.

Speaking of not being in the same state, Gill headed back to New Zealand today; it'll be a little weird around here without her. She was the one who first showed me around McLeod, and we've grown to be friends over the last few months. Safe travels, Gill! Maybe I'll come visit you in NZ sometime!

Today was also Brij's last full day in town. The original plan was to return to the disco, but those plans fell through as we realized that Brij, Kalden, and I seemed to be the only ones who were actually planning to go. Truth be told, I wasn't entirely feeling it myself; I kind of wanted to just chill for what was going to be my last night in town for a while, as well.

Everybody's leaving, all at once... Verity, Gill, Brij... I'm leaving too, I guess, but I'm coming back. My students made me promise I'd be back before the end of the semester. :)

Anyway, Brij decided we should have pizza for his last dinner in McLeod. Om Cafe makes a damned good Roquefort/walnut/”chilly” pizza, so that's exactly what we had (along with an eggplant/herb/tomato pizza). Delicious, and for less than 200 rupees.

During his stay in India, Brij has become close friends with one of the local families who happens to own a cafe down the road. One of the sons was having a birthday party today, and they said that he had to go. In fact, they were waiting until he arrived to cut the cake. No pressure or anything.

He invited Kalden and me to come with him, making the argument that it was a party and likely to have dancing like the disco would, and since we had scrapped that idea, we may as well still get some dancing in and cake while we were at it. I decided to take him up on the offer, mainly since I plan on leaving some clothing here when I leave India and there's a good chance I'll leave it with them since they're friends of his. I thought I may as well meet the girls so I'd know who to talk to later on when the time came to make the drop off.

We arrived and they ushered us in, asking Brij why he was late. It's like he was a minor celebrity there, or perhaps more appropriately, a part of the family. They welcomed me just as warmly.

The birthday boy turned 12 today. I told Brij I had no idea how to sing “Happy Birthday” in Hindi, half jokingly, but he promptly started teaching me. As it turned out, we sang it in English anyway. I don't know if it's some kind of Indian tradition or just one in that family, but after the candles had been blown out, the birthday boy grabbed a handful of cake and offered it to each of us in the room while a woman, perhaps Mom, cut the rest of it into actual pieces. He got to me, held out his hand, and said “Auntie?” – I was touched. It's something I'm still getting used to here: “Auntie” and “Uncle” are what Indians call people older than themselves as a term of respect. It's kind of like “Sir” or “Ma'am” but it also conveys this sense of warmth, unlike in English. How could I say no to such a sweetie? Truth be told, the cake itself wasn't anything special... but the presentation more than made up for it.

Brij (|with frosting) and some of the girls.

After everyone finished eating, the music got turned up and the sisters started dancing. I got pulled up to join – which of course I didn't mind – and as the evening wore on I found myself giving an impromptu bellydance lesson. One of the girls in particular stuck by my side the whole night, mirroring every move I made. She's a pretty darn good dancer, actually, and I got her to show me a few Bollywood moves. They were all very, very sweet; I told them I'd be back from my trip in a couple of weeks and that I'd teach them bellydance if they taught me Hindi. Their eyes lit up – easy! What a great deal, right? They told me I was doing pretty well already, even though my vocabulary is pretty limited; apparently my pronunciation is good, at least. They all seemed thrilled to have made a new friend. I was even requested to make sure I was back in town by November 7^th so I could attend a birthday party for one of them... we'll see how Rajasthan goes, but I think I might try to get back for that. I may learn some Hindi and Bollywood moves yet!

Brij and I were the last guests to leave. It took us a while to actually get out of there; he's been around here for the last 8 months and everyone was sad to see him finally go. All the girls as well as the birthday boy gave us hugs goodbye, and he called me Auntie again; Brij even seemed impressed with how quickly I'd reached “Auntie” status. A couple of the younger girls insisted he come back next year, then that both of us come back next year, and by the time we left they'd gotten me to promise I'd come visit when I got back in town. I wish I'd gotten to know them sooner. I'll just have to make the most of my last few weeks when I get back to McLeod Ganj...

Norbulingka redux

Verity and Samten Kyi.

Most of the volunteer teachers at Tibet Charity don't stick around for the full 4-month term. This means that many of the students have numerous different English teachers throughout their education here. When I first started at the beginning of August, I was teaching both the Elementary and Pre-Intermediate classes. I since handed the Pre-Intermediates off to Brij, and then he handed them off to Charlene. When Verity arrived a few weeks ago, she took on some students for conversation classes.

One of the students who has had me, Brij, Verity, and Charlene is Samten Kyi. She is an absolute sweetheart and her English is pretty decent. She and Verity have apparently hit it off really well, and often times for their conversation “classes” they just go for walks around town and talk about whatever comes to mind. Samten Kyi offered to take Verity to Norbulingka to show her the workshops there, and then Charlene and I got invited to go with them.

The workshops aren't open on the weekends – when I had gone to Norbulingka before – so, as those who speak British English say, I was keen to go again and see the Tibetan crafters at work.

As usual, one of my students, Gyaltsen, kept me after class so I could pronounce the vocab words he'd gotten from another teacher. After a few minutes I told him I had to get going because there was a taxi waiting for me; “Sorry, Teacher!” he said and scampered off.

Even though monsoon season is supposed to have ended a few weeks ago, we still get bouts of extreme fog and rain. I grabbed my umbrella – and it's a good thing, too – and we headed off down the mountain.

Just as we arrived at Norbulingka, it started pouring. We all jumped out and ran into the Tibetan cafe where we had decided to have lunch. Over thukpa (Tibetan soup) and tea, Samten Kyi explained to us that “yaks don't give milk. Yak wife gives milk” and that female yaks are called dri, although to hear her say it it sounded more like “drrr.” I didn't realize “yaks” were only male.

Luckily, the rain stopped just as we finished our meal and we were able to go watch some of the artisans at work: tailors, thangka painters, and weavers:

 

They have a Tibetan doll museum as well.

Samten Kyi showed us where she's from in Tibet:

Tibet has musk deer...

...Tibetan wolves, Himalayan bears...

... and Yetis, apparently.

Before we left we stopped in the gift shop. The things in the Norbulingka gift shop are very nice, with price tags to match; there was a strand of (very pretty) amber prayer beads... for 33,000 rupees! We didn't buy them. I did, however, seriously contemplate picking up one of the handwoven raw silk shawls (they were actually fairly reasonably priced).

Oh, and apparently an Indian reality show was being filmed when we were there.

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...?