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.

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?

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.

More Manali

One more way India differs from the US: if you want a cup of coffee in the morning – at least one that isn't the instant powdered kind – you're going to have to wait. You know how most cafes, Starbuckses, etc are open by 5 or 6 in the morning? Yeah, here they chill until 9. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the locals all drink tea.... I suppose it's a really nice thing if you work in one of these cafes, but if you are a visitor looking for that morning caffeine fix, you might want to seek alternatives.

So, dear readers, while I am waiting for 9am to roll around I will be a good little blogger and tell you about the last couple of days, since as you may have noticed I was slacking a little bit on that front.

We've arrived in Manali on Tuesday evening. The first couple of days were spent exploring, sightseeing, and generally wandering around.

Yep, real life snake charmer.

We did fun things like visit one of the old local Hindu temples.

There is some really intricate wood carving on some of the old buildings in Manali, unlike I've seen in other places. Oh, and skulls.

Gill and I sat on a yak. It was very soft, but not quite as big as I expected. Maybe smaller yaks are easier to maintain here at relatively low altitudes (around 2000 meters).

We took some photos..

This is a Tata Nano. I see more cars like this here than any other... doesn't it kinda look like my Yaris at home?

The marigolds (and roses, and everything else) get really tall here, presumably from all the monsoon rain.

It's apple season in Himachal Pradesh.

If you look closely you can see both English and Tibetan writing on this wall under the painting. I found it to be a nice change from English overtaking everything it contacts; here the English has been covered up by Buddhist art.

Oh yeah, the hotels have cool names. Ours is called "The Dragon."

Yesterday for breakfast we decided to check out a little place we'd passed earlier called “Dylan's.” It, like the few other cafes that carry the stuff, advertises that you can get real brewed coffee there.

It was pretty darn good.

Verity finally found a good soy cappuccino!

What's that, you say? Fresh pineapple mint juice? Don't mind if I do...

There was a cast & crew running around Manali all day shooting some film, so we watched that for a while. They did not ask us to be extras (inconsiderate jerks).

After our nice relaxing morning we wandered down toward New Manali to purchase some gifts (and maybe a couple of things for ourselves, too).

Not the greenest city park I've ever seen...

No, I did not try one.

Later, Marie, Verity, and I took a detour through the woods near the river:

and found this cool tree:

and then on the way back into town we wandered down a side street filled with dhabas. They were impressed that I could decipher this sign:

In case you're wondering, it's: Chai - Coffee - Omelet in the red, and the blue reads: Veg momo, Chicken momo, Fried momo... (I'm actually not sure what the first word on the second line of blue says), then Soup, Chowmein, Dal, Chavel (which means rice). Cool, eh?

The three of us decided to try some dessert at the little place across the main road from our hotel, The Bee's Knees. I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but in Dharamsala most of the businesses that provide wi-fi to their customers have passwords that reflect the spiritual, heavily Tibetan makeup of the town: “compassion,” “thankyousomuch,” “ilovemandala,” or sometimes more food-oriented ones like “bananacake” or “mochaccino.” It's cute. You get used to expecting a sweet, New-Age-y answer when you ask for the password after ordering your ginger lemon honey tea. That being said, you may be able to imagine our reaction when we asked for the password at The Bee's Knees and was told...

are you ready for this?...

“1nightstand69.”

Bahahahahaha.... well played, Bee's Knees cafe.

As I was telling my sister last night, I'd be alright with coming home any time now. I like it here, and I have actually been feeling a surprisingly low level of homesickness (maybe it's because I know I'll be back soon), but what I have been feeling lately is a sense that I have things to do – and I have to be home to do them. I miss my job and the paycheck it brings. Money certainly isn't everything, not by a long shot, but when you've spent two straight months spending your savings and not making much back, if any, then it gets a little tiring. Life in India is cheap, but it isn't free.

In closing, I leave you with photos of some of the local doggies:

I only threw up twice

After yesterday's all-day excursion to Triund, we were feeling a little skeptical as to whether we'd want to spend another entire day running around. We had planned to visit the church in town just because it's there, and then we'd hire a taxi driver for the day and visit the Kangra Fort, the Masroor rock temple, and some hot springs that are on the way.

We wound up doing all of it. This morning Marie and I went to meet Suzanne for coffee.

Then we got picked up and went to church. We weren't supposed to take photos inside but I managed to snap this one anyway.

There were about 50 people in attendance, a mix of westerners and Indians, and a few who looked to be Tibetan. The church itself was a rather nice old building: stone walls, a wooden roof with a tarp covering part of it outside, and really, really bright CFLs in all the light fixtures. There were Christmas lights around the stained glass window; in true xmas light fashion, half of them stayed lit the whole time while the other half cycled through blinking patterns. Why do they always do that? Can't anyone figure out how to get them all doing the same thing?

The sermon was about Abraham and the whole sacrificing his son thing. The preacher talked about how Abraham was able to have a son at 99 years of age and then be willing to kill him "because he had great faith"; the most disturbing part of this for me was how it was said with a smile. That and some of the other things that were pointed out to us today were perfect examples of what the book I'mreading has to say about, and I'll be gentle here, the dark side of monotheism. Nevermind thinking for yourself, just repeat what we say and don't question it. Faith is better than reason.

I could have stuck around and took notes on the brainwashing a little longer, but Marie had had enough so we left after about 45 minutes. The taxi driver picked us up and we headed out.

We'd made it about 20 minutes before I started really feeling the effects of the winding roads out of the mountain. I don't get motion sickness easily (I'm one of those people who usually has no problem reading in the car), but I had some on the initial bus ride up from Delhi, and I definitely felt it as we made our way toward the Kangra valley.

Eventually I made my way up to the front seat because the general consensus was that it would affect me less there. You know, though, how once you feel nauseous you can't always shake it until you actually throw up? I had that going on. Or at least I thought I did. We got to the hot springs and so I got a bit of a respite.

They really were warm, like bath water!

Then it was back in the car for another hour-plus. My personal nausea situation went from bad to worse, and once we stopped the car at the rock temple I got out and spent a few minutes vomiting off the side of the road. As tends to be the case, I felt much better once I'd gotten it out of my system and had a little water.

Ruler of all I survey.

This shrine looked like the dolls/statues/whatever in it had real shrunken heads... like they were someone's actual mummified remains. O.o

I spotted a few of these little guys chilling on the rocks.

The view from atop the temple.

There are always dogs around! These ones were quite friendly.

After an hour or so at the very cool, very big, very old rock temple, we had a snack of fruit and headed out to the fort. I did have to stop the driver one more time somewhere in between so I could get out and hurl again. I kept thinking of Garth's famous line; eventually I just couldn't hold it anymore and gave in. So it goes. The combination of the heat (it was probably around 90 in the valley), the constant sharp hairpin turns, and the fact that all the taxi drivers in India seem to drive in such a way that they accelerate, then brake hard at the last second, and take turns very, very tightly – over and over and over again for the entire trip, no matter how far you're going – made for a veritable trifecta of misery for our otherwise spunky heroine.

Whatever. By the time I really felt sick it was too late to go back, so I just stuck it out like a big girl. I didn't even cry. (Though at one point I did seriously consider it.) Brij even commended me later for “manning up” when it would no doubt have been much easier to wuss out, which I took as quite a compliment.

Behold: the Kangra Fort!

Whee, fountain!

Verity listening to some Kangra Fort history.

A little altar to Shiva.

Arrow slits.

Apparently we hadn't even made it inside the actual fort yet!

Oooh, ahhh...

A carving of (for?) Lakshmi that took 10 years to sculpt. It's also part of the restorations that are happening at the fort.

The courtyard on the roof of the fort.

There was a little ledge outside one of these windows where you could perch like Altair or Ezio... the only thing missing was a haystack on the ground below. Yes, that was the first thing I thought when I saw it.

I reeeeeeeally wanted to go for a swim.

Go ahead and try to tell me this isn't one of the most beautiful scenes you've ever seen. I dare you.

We all survived the fort and the trip back to Dharamsala was quick and easy, and I didn't have any further issues. I even managed to finally get some food to stay in my stomach more than a couple of hours. Victory!

Lesson learned: if you are either prone to motion sickness or have never traveled much in the mountains, do yourself a favor and take prophylactic measures if you are planning such a trip. I'm going to stock up on peppermint, ginger, a bottle or two of pop, and probably even some OTC anti-nausea stuff just in case. I've got some trips planned and I don't want to be “that person” who makes the driver pull over every hour because she can't handle it.

Other recommendations are gladly accepted! What works for you?

In any case... Bring it on, Dhauladhar mountains. I see what I'm up against and you won't catch me unprepared next time.