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.

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!