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.

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 ***

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.

A Small Feminist Rant

The plan was to leave Udaipur and return to Pushkar for the Camel Fair, because it sounded like fun and, well, that’s what traveling is all about, isn’t it? The sleeper bus was considerably more comfortable than the one we took from Pushkar to Jaisalmer; all parts of our bunk seemed to be more or less intact, and we ended the trip with just as much glass as we started. The driver shouted “Ajmer, Ajmer, Ajmer!” early enough for us to get our stuff together and make sure we disembarked at the right stop.

The usual swarm of rickshaw drivers met us as we stepped off the bus. One of them informed us that no buses were going from Ajmer to Pushkar after 7pm (which of course it was) because of the fair; you could take a car but it would likely cost a couple grand. After some discussion we decided to spend the night in Ajmer and head up to the festivities in the morning.

Ajmer is a largely Muslim city. Many of the women wear hijabs or burkas, the men are in caftans and those little beanies. Apparently there is also a law here that says any foreigners that stay in the hotels or guest houses have to register with the local police department. For this reason, the first few hotels we stopped at told us we weren’t even allowed to stay there because they didn’t want to deal with the paperwork. I’d been a bit irritated the last day or so because India really is a man’s world, so to speak, and it’s not uncommon for people to address Brij instead of me when we’re together. Sometimes I don’t mind this because, well, it is easier for him to do most of the talking since he fits in better, but even in places like the fancy hotel in Udaipur, more often than not we’d hear “good morning, sir” and I’d get a smile and a nod. At breakfast yesterday I ordered an espresso and when the waiter came to let us know it would be a few more minutes, he addressed Brij -- in English -- and never even looked at me. That kind of thing gets to me. Needless to say, I was already a little peeved and the blatant racism with the hotel situation in Ajmer was not sitting well with me. I suppose Brij was right, though, when he pointed out that it wasn’t just me: he has a foreign passport as well.

Still. It’s stupid.

Anyway, we wound up taking the third hotel we stopped at because it was getting late, we were hungry and tired, and no one else would even give us a second look. The prices were exorbitant because of the fair in town; they wanted 2000 rupees for a room that should cost probably 800 or 900 at most. There’s no wi-fi, the hot water barely passes for warm, and we’ve seen more than a few cockroaches climbing the walls. They’re giving us the runaround as far as pretty much everything; they kept changing the time we’d get our passports back, for example. It’s so tiring and irritating to feel like you’re blatantly being taken advantage of and there’s not much you can do about it.

Getting to the fair in Pushkar proved to be a hell of a lot more difficult than we expected also. After finally arriving at the bus stand, we found scores of people waiting to board the local buses to Pushkar. It would be cool to see the fair, but in the end we decided It was going to be more hassle than it was worth to either of us, and that we’d had enough of Ajmer, and we would just make our way back to Jaipur as soon as we could and chill there, where we had some idea of where we were and what was going on.

Luckily, buses leave Ajmer for Jaipur about once every hour, so we chilled at the hotel for a bit (waiting on our passports) before we headed back to the bus stand and then out east. Maybe I’m biased, but if you’re ever in Ajmer, Rajasthan, give the Hotel Neelam Palace a skip – there are bound to be more worthwhile places. I’m a little bummed that we aren’t making it back to Pushkar; I liked it there. Even though they had a weird set of rules that seem to be enforced pretty strictly, there was something charming about the place. I also wanted to pick up a new pair of shoes. Oh well.

We wound up hopping an afternoon bus to Jaipur and even got a room back at Chitra Katha, where we stayed our first time here. 

There's a definite comfort in being someplace familiar after the headache we just left. After a couple of days here, Brij and I will part ways and I’ll head back up to Dharamsala to finish the semester at Tibet Charity. I wonder how Gusti and my students are doing? I can’t believe my stay in India is almost over. In the beginning 4 months seemed like such a long time; now I’m in the last few weeks and it's so surreal. In under a month I’ll be Stateside, just in time for another delightful Chicago winter. (To be fair, I don’t think the winters are any better in Dharamsala.) If there’s anything you want me to pick you up from India, let me know because I won’t be here much longer!