Future Travel Plans in the Making

Hello there, friends!

I think I'm pretty much all settled in back here in Illinois. I've managed to only drive on the correct side of the road, order in English at restaurants, and still take quick showers even though now I have the resources to drag them out a little.

I got home just in time to pick up a bunch of Xmas party hours at Duke's Catering (call them if you ever have a party, wedding reception, luncheon, etc to cater; they'll take good care of ya), which is awesome considering I hadn't made a dime in the previous 4+ months. I love my job. Unfortunately, I am of the generation that has been hosed by the American higher education system, and thus I find myself with a retardedly large amount of student debt. I love my job, but I've been keeping my eyes open for additional work that will help pay the bills. (If you know of anything good, help a sister out.)

People have asked if I'd like to travel again, to teach English again. My answer is absolutely -- the question is where? And when, I'm not sure. I had planned on staying here in the US for at least a year and paying off some of the aforementioned debt, but lately I find myself wondering if I should just scamper off to some other corner of the world and teach for a while. I had a great time in India; as many people pointed out, if you can travel in India you can travel anywhere. My confidence has gotten a boost and thanks to the magic of The Internets, I can keep in touch with all of you. Four months really didn't seem all that long. I think I could do a year-long contract now, especially if I were getting paid decently.

I'd still love to see Europe, but my sources indicate that the opportunity to make a profit there is limited. Japan might be a better option for me, at least for the near future. At some point I'd like to make my way to Hungary, where my grandparents are from. I've always felt that if you're going to live in a country then you have an obligation to learn at least a few basic phrases in the local language; for this reason, there are places I'm just not all that interested in traveling to. Chinese and Thai intimidate me: China, Taiwan, and Thailand are not at the top of my must-see list. (Well, China I don't particularly want to visit for plenty of other reasons... I DID just get back from teaching a bunch of Tibetans, after all.)

In other travel news, I actually will be leaving the States again in a mere 2 months. This time I'm staying much closer to home, though -- I'll finally get to see Vancouver! It's a place I've wanted to visit for years now and just never seemed to get around to it. After spending a third of a year on the other side of the world, hopping a plane to the west coast doesn't seem like such a big deal. I hear there's also snowboarding to be done out there.

Adventure ho!

Post-India sushi!

P.S.: The short amount of time it takes to upload and post photos here, as compared to the last few months, is practically obscene.

Mind. Blown.

Supporting the local economy

मेरे दोस्तों नमस्ते !
I'm the kind of person who likes to sleep in. Mornings like today are somewhat uncommon: I woke up an hour before my alarm went off (even though I didn't go to bed until 2am), energized and ready to Get Shit Done. I even surprised myself.

I'm now well within my last two weeks here in India, which means it's finally time to buy all the souvenirs and things I want to take home. I had been putting it off because buying more stuff would mean I'd have more stuff to store, and with a trip to Rajasthan in the mix, during which I left the rest of my possessions with a friend, it didn't make sense to add to the amount of things I'd have to cart back and forth. I don't imagine I'll be moving again before my final trip to Delhi, so now the shopping can commence.

If any of you want something specific, tell me now. If you want something specific and expensive, I'll send you my Paypal address so you can get those dollas to me.

I went into McLeod Ganj for breakfast, enjoying a satisfying chicken sandwich with mango & coriander chutney on the patio, in the sun, at Moonpeak Espresso. I haven't been there in a while. On my way, I stopped in to a shop to take a look at something specific on my list for a gift. The middle-aged Indian proprietor smiled a lot and wasn't pushy at all; when I asked in Hindi if he had what I was looking for, he became excited as well. We talked for a few minutes, him showing me various items on the shelves in his tiny store, and even though I felt like it must have been painful for him to endure my butchery of his native language when he clearly could speak mine, he complimented me, saying that my Hindi was "bohut sunder" -- very beautiful -- and that I sound like I've been speaking it for a long time. 

All I have to say is LOL. Thanks, sir, but I don't entirely believe you. It's sweet of you to say, though.

After breakfast I headed up to the ATM because, well, the whole point of going in to town today was to shop and I needed funds. Over the last 4 months I have made friends with one of the shopkeepers near said ATM. The guys over there tend to hang out outside because their shops are tucked back from the street; it's easier to grab customers if they're more visible.

Taj showed me all kinds of pretty things, of which I purchased a few unique pieces for gifts this upcoming Xmas (lucky you if you get one of them!). He made a comment that he'd give me the "local price" because I'd been here long enough that "now you are a local." I told him "Baria!" to which he responded with a surprised "and now you also speak Hindi!" He was kind enough to let me practice a bit, only reverting back to English when I really had no idea how to get my point across otherwise. It's so much fun. It's like decoding a puzzle.

I try to speak in Hindi as much as I can, because that's the only way to get better at it, not to mention more comfortable with it. Most of the people I do this with seem initially surprised but then appreciative; I have had a couple of Indians tell me that many foreigners come to Dharamsala because it's a Tibetan area, and the Indian locals get looked over or even looked down on. This is unfortunate, of course, but it works in my favor in a way because I stand out as "that foreigner who has actually bothered to learn our language." Obviously I support the Tibetan community as well -- it's the reason I came here, after all; I do volunteer at a place called Tibet Charity -- but there's a different sort of inclusion I feel when I bust out what little Hindi I have with the Indians. It's like I immediately gain a bit of status in their eyes, like I really am more "local." Sometimes, in my desire to use it as much as I can, I catch myself nearly speaking Hindi with my students or other expats who only understand English... it's pretty funny.

One thing I enjoy about McLeod Ganj and Dharamsala is being able to say at least "hello" in a few different languages. I know how to say this and "thank you" in Tibetan, and that's pretty much it -- but there's something exciting about walking down the street and greeting Tibetans with tashi delek, then passing a westerner or two and telling them hi, and responding to the Indian shopkeepers' "Hello, Madam" or "How are you?"  or "Yes, taxi?" -- it's like navigating a town full of NPCs, I swear -- with a namaste or thik, aap kaise hai? or nahin, thank you bhaiya. I feel so multicultural.

Uncounting

The end of the fall semester at Tibet Charity is rapidly approaching. Classes end on the 26th, final exams are the next day, and then Friday there is a closing ceremony. I'm having a chupa made just for me for the closing ceremony, and I'm pretty pumped about it. I think it'll look nice, and the color should coordinate nicely with the new juties I got in Jaipur.

A couple of my Pre-Intermediate students have been asking me for help studying for their final. I've met with both of them the last few nights; I haven't seen either of them in a while. The one also said we are going to have to go have lunch sometime before I leave India. It's nice to be appreciated.

The current chapter in my class deals with countable vs. uncountable nouns, and today we introduced how much and how many. Teaching English can be tricky because it's hard to give students "rules" to follow; you tell them an uncountable noun, like "bread" (you say "some bread," not "a bread"... usually) can be made countable by adding the phrase "a piece of" in front of it: a piece of bread. Some rice becomes a piece of rice. No problem, right? Some meat and a piece of meat, some fish becomes a piece of fish... Then you get to some butter/a piece of butter and it starts sounding a little funny. It still works, though. When you make it to some grapes... well. Have you ever said "a piece of grapes"? I didn't think so. Regardless, they are handling it well. The end of the semester is always fun because everyone relaxes a bit. I'm not a huge advocate of keeping a distance between myself and my students; I want them to be comfortable with me and have fun in class, because that's how you learn best. Interested students are studious students. We laugh even more now than we did early in the semester; they understand more colloquialisms (today we went through "it doesn't matter," "got it," "leftovers," and other similar phrases) and give clever responses to my questions.

My hope is to make it through this chapter by the time finals roll around. We're just shy of halfway, with three days of class remaining. The power was out the entire class period today, so that meant we couldn't do any of the listening exercises that came with the textbook. We focused more on speaking and how to phrase questions and answers instead. I like to have a review day before each exam; I don't think we'll get a whole day this time, but I'm definitely going to try to give them at least half of one. Hopefully they'll all have done their homework.

I'm going to miss them when I go. I've collected a few email addresses; I'd like to keep in touch with as many of them as I can. I've met so many interesting people here in India, from so many different backgrounds. Some of the Tibetans were born here, in exile, and others have stories of crossing the mountains on foot, traveling at night because there was less risk of being caught that way. All of them dream of someday returning to Tibet. I've met some very cool Indians, and a couple of my fellow expats have entered the ranks of my best friends. As always, part of me can't wait to get home and see all of you -- but another part of me knows that I'll miss this place once I go. Even now, with two weeks remaining, I feel like I'm not entirely here. I haven't totally unpacked my bags in my new place; I'm not going to. I don't want to get too settled, because I'm just going to have to undo it all in a handful of days anyway. I've now stayed at 4 of the hotels near Tibet Charity. I feel like a nomad. I can definitely understand how people get addicted to traveling... it's been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It's just what I needed, and I'm so grateful to everyone who helped make it happen.

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?

Back to Class

While I was in Rajasthan, Gusti and my class managed to get through two chapters in the textbook. They  had a test scheduled for today -- I try not to have them fall on Mondays, but we're in crunch time now so I just went with it; plus I haven't been here to object -- so I figured it would make for a nice, easy segue back into teaching mode.

When a few of my students saw me in the hall before class I got surprised looks and excited hellos. It was like they didn't expect me to actually come back after my trip! I suppose, to be fair, I had told them I'd be gone "2 or 3 weeks," and at the time I had been leaning more toward 2, so maybe it's not unreasonable that they thought I just decided to stay.

They were curious about my trip so I told them briefly about some of the highlights: riding camels in the desert, the broken train on the way back... but some of them tend to make use of the full 2 hours allowed on test day, so I didn't want to cut into that too much.

They seemed to struggle with the test. Even my strongest students regarded their papers with furrowed brows and made extra use of their erasers. Everyone took longer than usual to finish. I had to clarify a bunch of points, and even then they seemed to have trouble.

They all finished, though, and on time.

I just finished grading the stack of exams, and oh my goodness... they aren't looking very good. I'm not sure what happened, but they definitely weren't lying when a bunch of them told me as they turned in their papers that the test was "very difficult." I wound up giving everyone an extra 10 percentage points so their final grades wouldn't be too thrown out of whack; we won't have time to re-take them, and since I wasn't here to make sure they understood the material, I can't say for sure what happened. When everyone in a class fails to understand, though, I don't think you ought to punish the students because clearly something else is up. Maybe the material was too difficult, maybe they rushed through it... I'm not sure, but it's my opinion that a student's understanding of the material is far more important than a grade, and if they can communicate effectively in English then I see no reason to bum them out with poor marks when it's probably not their fault anyway.

It's for this same reason that I'm with Van on the subject of recognizing the top 2-3 students in each class at our closing ceremony (we're against it): it doesn't matter if you get better scores than your peers, what matters is being able to use the language.

Anyway, I'm glad that's over. I think we may spend most of class tomorrow going over the test and trying to understand what the heck happened.

On a completely unrelated note, the areas around my hometown got hammered by tornadoes yesterday. It's my understanding that most of the damage was to property; relatively few people were injured. I wish I were there to help out. :( This is the first time I really felt the distance from home: there's insanity happening near a great many of the people I care about, and there's not a damned thing I can do aside from follow it online. A friend sent me this message (I hope you don't mind me reposting it, you-know-who-you-are):

You travel across the world to help refugees and thus inadvertently escape the apocalypse back home. I don't believe in karma or anything, but yeah. Karma.

Huh. I hadn't even thought of it like that.

Interval Hovel

After seeing my nasty skin situation, the guys at Pause Dwelling offered to wash my sheets and blankets for me. I took everything down the other morning and it was only much later in the evening that I realized I couldn't find my one jump drive -- the awesome 32GB one that has all my movies on it. I went downstairs to ask if they'd washed the bedding yet and if they'd found anything wrapped up in them. They said they hadn't, and then they invited me to come back down for dinner. Free homemade dinner not being something I tend to turn down, I hung out in my room for a bit and then wandered back downstairs.

The guys had the TV on; they flipped the channels between the news (something about a guy called Narayan) and the Indian version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (Kaun Banega Crorepati). I still find it amusing how Indian TV combines Hindi and English almost constantly. I was able to read the text on the news (somewhat laboriously) and I caught a few words here and there. For some reason I hadn't even thought to turn on my own TV to listen to Hindi; I guess I'm just so used to not watching TV in general that I don't even consider it an option.

Dinner consisted of handmade chapatti and some kind of soya bean masala -- it was delicious and not too spicy. I'm not exactly sure what "soya" beans are and how they differ from the Illinois soy beans I'm so used to, but when they're cooked up they resemble TVP. I like 'em.

Yesterday in class at Tibet Charity, I was joined by not only Gusti but Neil as well. He was so kind as to shoot some film for a project I'm involved in -- the students were very well-behaved and went about class as usual, not paying any particular attention to him. We spent most of the class time reviewing for the test we were to have today, which I just finished grading... in general they're alright. Most of my students are sitting around an 80% for their overall class grade, which I suppose isn't bad.

Neil offered to pass the video along to me if I swung by his room (downstairs from mine) later on that evening, so that's what I did. A few minutes later Brij joined us, and what I expected to be a five-minute visit turned into three hours. We played "guess where this song is from" -- according to Brij, most music originates in Mali -- ate ramen, and exchanged a whole bunch of music and movies. Neil offered some insight as to why Pause Dwelling has such a funny name -- it involves a thesaurus mishap (think "rest house") and he says it could have just as easily wound up being called "Interval Hovel." Ah, it's fun making new friends.

Oh, and I found my jump drive. Yay!

Just because I feel like this post needs something visual, here's a sketch that Gill did of me at one of HH's teachings.

Can you tell it's me? I think it's pretty darn good!

A proper send-off

Class Friday closed with a speech from one of my students, Phaivong, a Thai monk. He is heading back to Thailand and asked if he could say a few words before he went; in his speech he thanked, me, his classmates, and HH the Dalai Lama for his time in India and in English class. He has a tough time with listening (which I appreciate more now that I've got people speaking to me in Hindi and expecting answers), but when he reads he does pretty well. It was really sweet.

Gusti and me with my Elementary class.

Good luck, Phaivong! We'll miss you!

Before that happened, though -- before I left my room in the morning -- I noticed some bumps on my forearms. It wasn't so bad at first, just annoying, so I figured I'd keep an eye on it and go from there. By lunchtime it had spread a bit and I noticed some spots on the tops of my feet.

Wth?

I went down to the clinic at Tibet Charity where one of the nurses wiped me down with iodine and applied some Tibetan medicine; it itches a little but it's not so terrible. It looks worse than it feels. Today I think I'll hit up a clinic or one of the local hospitals and see if they can tell me what's going on. The theories I've gotten from my friends so far include: poison ivy, chickenpox, smallpox, cowpox, ringworm, allergic reaction, bed bugs, mosquito bites, spider bites, leprosy, fungal infection, and that flesh eating virus. It's definitely not mosquito bites or spider bites. All I had for breakfast yesterday was an orange and a cup of coffee (Starbucks Via > Nescafe... thanks, Mom and Dad!), so I thought maybe the acidity was messing with me... My other thought is maybe that Tibetan medicine isn't agreeing with me. I avoided accidents etc, but I didn't drink the saffron concoction... maybe this is what I get for not following directions?

Tibet Charity hosted a dinner for the volunteers yesterday evening at which we said goodbye to Gill and Verity, as they are both heading back to their respective homes this week. We also welcomed a couple of veterinarian volunteers and a couple of doctors from Denmark who will help out in the clinic. These dinners are a little more upscale than the average lunch we get at TC; we usually get rice, boiled potatoes with mutton (I don't eat that part) and herbs, cauliflower in garlic or something similar, and yogurt. Yummm... I do love potatoes. They're so simple but so delicious.

Dinner complete, a bunch of us headed up to McLeod Ganj to play table tennis. We wound up staying two hours and ordering some beers (I did not have any... it's not my thing), playing a whole lot of ping pong -- including a 4-person version that involved running laps around the table -- and afterward Brij, Verity, Kalden, Van, and I hit up one of the local Tibetan clubs. A few more drinks, some really hilarious photos I can't post here, a couple plates of French fries, and a bunch of dance music and sweet moves later (once we all started dancing everyone else joined us), we finally headed home, concluding what was easily my latest night out since I've been here (most places here close by 10). Brij and I rounded out the night with some sitting on the balcony eating sunflower seeds as we have taken to doing. In another few days we'll be on our way to Rajasthan and after that he's heading off to visit family and then out of India, so our nights on the balcony are limited; gotta enjoy it while we can.

The rest of today will consist of spending our last few hours we can with Verity before we see her off to the bus station this evening. After that I'll go study some Hindi, maybe get in an impromptu lesson with Kuldeep, and just chill. I've also been working on my end of a collaborative art project with my good friend Brandi, so I may do some brainstorming for that as well.

Adventure!

The way I tend to be

Last night as I made my way up the steps of Pause Dwelling, I heard a familiar "namaste, ma'am" from just above and to my left. It was promptly followed by a short string of Hindi, of which I was able to make out just enough to stumble through a response of "I'm going to my room" (मै मेरा कमरा जा रहीं हूँ ). ... Or at least that's what I said, it might not quite be right.

He said something else so I hopped up the last couple of steps and around onto the balcony where he was sitting, and I took the empty seat next to him. Long story short, by the time I actually made it to my room I had a basic understanding of how to write Hindi -- not just try to mimic the typewritten text in books -- and I had also been assigned homework:

Who gives "Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today" as a first translation assignment??

I also installed a Hindi keyboard and a flashcard app on my phone so I can study when I don't have internet. Brij gave me a couple of movies in Hindi to watch, as well as some music. The language itself really is, I think, relatively easy... it's just the fact that I'm learning a new language at all that's tricky. The grammar seems to be pretty consistent and now that I can read the script, I'm finding that most words are phonetic.

As far as English class at Tibet Charity, today we were studying possessive pronouns and rhyming words. Naturally, the book suggested I give them songs as examples. The ones it provided were Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman and Every Breath You Take by The Police (Every breath you take/Every move you make... boom, rhyming words). I took the liberty of adding my own personal touch and gave them "I was her love, she was my queen/And now a thousand years between" and "Then I remember you/And the way you shine like truth in all you do"... I couldn't help myself. Hearing them read the lyrics off the board was a trip, too.

At the break, Gusti suggested I give them some nursery rhymes to further illustrate the point. Neither of us could recall much, but I did give them "Baa Baa Black Sheep" and "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star." They really seemed to enjoy it, and they understood rhyming well enough by the end of it that I was able to leave "sky" blank and they figured it out (rhymes with high, judging from the meaning, etc).

Then the book had an activity for us that involved filling in missing words from song lyrics. The song it chose, due to its high content of possessive pronouns, was this. I felt like I was either at a wedding reception or a high school dance. Imagine me teaching this to a bunch of monks and nuns. Pretty hilarious, right? Now I've got it stuck in my head.

So it goes. There are worse things in the world.

Truly affordable healthcare

I took my first of the "precious pills" from the Tibetan Men-Tsee-Khang this morning. I even woke up, took it with warm water, and went back to sleep under some blankets, just like the instructions said! As luck would have it, I also managed to avoid eating putrid food, getting into an accident, and having sex. So far so good!

After some thought I decided that I'd be missing out if I spent four months here, in the center of the Tibetan nation-in-exile, and didn't actually go check out the Tibetan medical facilities. Everyone keeps telling me about how you go in there and they diagnose you based on what your pulse feels like.

I'm intrigued. The 40 rupee price tag makes it even more appealing.

So today after class I went to check it out. I was told to take a number and have a seat by room C3.

After a wait of maybe fifteen minutes (and a line-jumping old Tibetan man), it was my turn. I went in to see doctor, a youngish Tibetan man of maybe 40, who was very kind and soft-spoken. He asked me a few questions, took my pulse in both wrists, and told me he'd write me a script for a couple of different medicines. I have some that I am supposed to take before breakfast, after lunch, and before bed, and then a different one that I take once a week. He also instructed me to "not take too many sweets" and to keep warm, especially on my lower back, and especially in the evenings. 

That sounds easy enough, right? 

After I paid (a whopping 550 rupees for a month's supply of these 4 different medicines, plus the office visit... I might have to move here just for the healthcare) I went over to the "medicine counter" where the women behind the glass read the doctor's order and filled little bags from jars of what looked like malted milk balls.

It's worth a shot, I suppose.

Yesterday in class the book had us practicing the form "What do you think of                 ?" "I like (him/her/it)." In order to do this, we were asked to make lists of famous people. It wanted four each of famous actors, famous actresses, pop groups, and TV "programmes." I had a feeling this was an exercise in futility, so I told my students to change it to famous men, famous women, musicians, and we did leave the TV programs as it was.

Here's the list we came up with:

Gotta love that Tibetan worldview.

Oh, and I also just discovered Memrise. It's like DuoLingo but with about a zillion more lessons. The only potential drawback I can see so far is that the lessons are submitted by users, so I'm not sure how accurate or regulated they are -- it's kind of like a cross between DuoLingo and Coursera. Regardless, DuoLingo does not yet have a Hindi program, so I'm taking my chances here. I also installed the Hindi keyboard so I can accurately type all the new words; it's taking some getting used to.

A weekend in Amritsar

The guys at Pause Dwelling are on to me – they have all been speaking to me in Hindi the last few days. This would be great, except I still know so little that I am lucky if I understand even two or three words in each sentence. It's only making me more determined, though, and I'm planning to scour the local bookstores for a good English-Hindi dictionary and a phrasebook as well. If this guy can become fluent in a foreign language in just 3 months, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to hold at least a basic conversation by the end of two.

I didn't get a whole lot of time to practice my Hindi skillz this weekend, however, because Charlene, Verity, and I took a trip to Amritsar.

Look! There's snow on the mountain!

I practiced my reading along the way, but after we entered the state of Punjab, all the signs switched from Devanagari to Punjabi; at first I thought it was just a new font, but then I noticed a sign with both on it and realized that it was in fact a completely new script – and, I think, a new language as well.

The roads were much nicer in Punjab, and the weather got immediately warmer. We had come down off the mountain and onto the plains, and traveled a bit south besides.

Punjab looks more or less like Illinois.

I didn't see as many cows on the roads, but they were replaced by herds of water buffalo. Horses began to show up, both pulling carts and just hanging out. More and more men wore turbans – we had entered the land of the Sikhs; more of the drivers of motorbikes were women (there are very few female drivers in India from what I can tell, at least in Himachal). We passed a sign that said “Chicken Shop” and had a picture of a goat on it... I'm still not quite sure what to think of that one.

We drove for seven hours, during which time I tried to engage our driver, Suhil, in Hindi conversation. It never lasted long, though; I think he was more interested in practicing his English. He recommended we go straight to the border because they had moved the closing ceremony up an hour due to the sun going down sooner in the day.

The two big attractions in Amritsar are the closing of the border between India and Pakistan, and the Golden Temple inside the city. If we missed the border closing we'd have to stick around another day, which we didn't want to do. We got there just in time.

Luckily, none of the three of us looked Indian enough to require a passport check; we were able to go right through. Foreigners were ushered to one side while Indian citizens crowded the other side of the road. When the gate was opened, they ran – I mean they sprinted – to the next gate, everyone eager to get the best seats.

We got our seats in the relatively tiny “Foreigners Gallery” and watched the place fill up. I felt like I was at Medieval Times. There was much introduction with running of flags and dancing.

You see those bleachers behind me? That's Pakistan.

I totally photobombed this old guy. I don't think he noticed (yet).

The whole production, once it started, lasted a little over an hour. It involved campy displays of military might on both sides, literal flexing of muscles by the ornately-clad border guards, high kicks a la John Cleese, stomping, shouting, etc. It was fun but they could have cut the whole thing in half and I think it would have been even more effective. Longer is not always better.

In the end, they lowered the Indian and Pakistani flags simultaneously, and then the guards slammed their respective gates shut. The border patrol held the throng of Indians back to allow us foreigners and VIPs a chance to get out without being trampled, and we made our way back to Suhil and the taxi.

A Tibetan guy asked me along the way if I came from Dharamsala; cautiously I said yes and he told me he's seen me buying veggies at one of the produce stands. I guess it shouldn't have been too surprising; Amritsar is one of the local attractions. We eventually made it back to the taxi, but since it was Saturday evening, it was basically like we left a concert in the heart of Chicago, waiting until the last song has been sung and having to wait your turn to get out.

Event parking: you're doing it wrong.

We eventually got back onto what passes for a highway in India and into Amritsar.

I couldn't get many photos because it was late at night and we were tired, hungry, and determined to reach the temple so we could rest, but it reminded me a lot of Delhi: dirty, loud, and overcrowded.

Not remembering that a lot of the religious places around here require women to cover their hair, I left my scarf in the car and had to buy a cheap bandanna outside the temple. Apparently at Sikh temples, everyone has to cover their hair. Being a secularist, I find it a little silly, but at least it isn't sexist.

We also had to leave our shoes at a place outside the temple, kind of like when you rent skates at an ice or roller rink. Everybody plodded, barefoot, up the path to the temple where we had to walk through a shallow pool of water before entering the main area. “It's not so impressive,” my overtired self thought. Then we got inside and saw the actual golden temple. 

It was pretty cool.

From what I can gather, making a pilgrimage to the Golden Temple is for Sikhs more or less what making a pilgrimage to the Kaaba in Mecca is for Muslims. They queued up to go inside the temple itself where, I'm told, a very holy book is kept.

Music and chanting played the whole time we were there. There is also a free kitchen where anyone can go to eat anytime, day or night. First, though, we wanted to find the sleeping quarters so we could put our stuff down. After a few attempts at getting the guards to tell us where to go (and getting only vague answers), we finally found someone to take us to the special room reserved just for foreigners.

Everyone is welcome to spend the night at the temple, anytime they want... as long as they're willing to sleep on the ground outside. There is a residence hall but I'm not sure what you have to do to get one of the rooms outside the giant main room (it filled with people by the end of the night). Foreigners, however, get a special room off to the side with cots, lockers, and their own bathroom. There were a couple dozen beds altogether, but we had no trouble finding free ones.

The "inn" at the temple seemed to me how I imagine hostels. Verity said it was more like a prison.

There had to have been ten thousand people in the temple altogether. As Marie said when she got back earlier in the week, “This (Dharamsala) isn't India. That (Amritsar) is India.” It wasn't until we'd dropped off our things, washed our faces, and gone to get some free dal and chapatti that I pondered just how many people were there. It was pretty incredible.

The next morning we got up before dawn – not on purpose, it just kind of happened – which was just as well because I'd heard that the best time to view the temple was at dawn and at dusk. We went and found a spot to sit and waited for the sun to rise.

Aside from the couple of other westerners we saw in the sleeping quarters, I didn't see any other obvious foreigners there; this could explain why people looked at us with such interest. Three white women in the heart of Punjab – quite an oddity!

The longer we stayed on the temple grounds, the more I enjoyed it. I marveled at how clean the place was, and how relaxed everyone seemed to be. There were no fussy children, no raised voices... it was super chill. Everyone was nice. We had a few people come up and shake our hands, and this guy struck up a conversation in which he informed us that he's been married twice and has seventeen children, and that he's “strong like tiger!” 

 

I'm not sure if he's well known in those parts or it was just a good excuse for the rest of them to come up, but once he started talking to us a crowd formed around us three. Verity had a kid come up and say “Nice to meet you” as though he'd been practicing his English. It was cute.

We wandered around the temple for a bit and then out one of the gates where they were having what appeared to be the Sikh equivalent of a religious service. The mood here was very relaxed as well, with people spread out all over the room. One little guy ran up to us after we'd been there a few minutes and held out a pack of cookies. When we each took one he grinned and ran back to his family. He came back periodically, offering us various foodstuffs; we took some photos and he was thrilled to see himself on the little screen.

At 9 we packed up our things and headed back to collect our shoes and meet Suhil, and began the trek back home. I probably could have stayed one more day (in the temple, not in the city of Amritsar), but we've got Tibetans relying on us for English lessons, so here I am, back in McLeod Ganj. If you're ever near Punjab, I recommend checking out the Golden Temple and what the hell, go see the border thing too if you're in the mood for a show. 

A jujube tree!

I expected a priestess to come out and ask me to go retrieve Nettlebane....

The first step is the hardest

I totally just ordered breakfast in Hindi (and yes, I got what I wanted). He even asked me "How long have you been speaking Hindi? Your pronunciation is pretty good."

Lol.

I think I might come to eat here more often. That sounds like a good trade-off, right? He gets business, I get Hindi practice?

~~ In case you're curious, I spent a while this morning drilling the following:
Mujhko dijiye do ubbalne ande, aur namak aur kali mirch... Kya aap ke pas haraa chai? Thik hai, thank you. :)

As it turns out, there are a good number of English words that Hindi speakers throw in to the mix; in this case, I was told to simply say "boiled" instead of "ubbalne" for my eggs. Also, the Hindi "dhanyavad" seems to be more formal and less used than simply saying "thank you." Cool, eh?

Make the vowel say its name

One thing I realized earlier is that some of the best classes we have at Tibet Charity are the ones that are not done, literally, by the book. My favorite ones to teach and, it seems, the ones that are often the favorites of the students as well, are the ones where we get off on some kind of tangent and explore some aspect of English that isn't necessarily in the lesson plan. A while back there was an entire day where all we did was prefixes, suffixes, and root words.

Today we wound up spending some time on pronunciation and spelling; the students had taken a test yesterday and I always go over it with them as a class the next day. Only one or two of them had spelled “twentieth” correctly, and when we read the reading passage I decided we could use some pronunciation practice. The main topic was how when a word ends in the letter “e,” the preceding vowel “says its name.” Obviously, like all rules in English, this is not an absolute... but it helped them distinguish between “Tim” and “time,” and I wound up teaching them a bunch of new vocabulary words in the process of illustrating the rule. We used words like pal/pale, tam/tame, slid/slide, and can/cane. They learned not only how to pronounce “crate” and “kale” but what they mean.

After that we did some sentence correcting on the board, which always goes over well. The first time I had them do it they were quite shy, but now that it's become a semi-regular thing they seem to enjoy it. I take sentences from their writing assignments and change some of the details but keep the mistakes. They go back and forth and help each other figure out how to fix them. I should probably spend more time developing exercises to supplement this, but we're not supposed to make copies aside from tests... so it's a little tricky. At least we have fun. Fun things are easier to remember.

This afternoon we said farewell to a couple of the teachers; Brij and Marie left on a trip to Rishikesh, where they will stay for at least the next week. As far as I know they don't have a strict itinerary, which is the same way we plan to see Rajasthan later this month. Everybody wish them a safe and fun trip!

While the two of them were getting their things to the bus to Rishikesh, I accompanied Verity, Gill, and Gusti to a meditation group that is held on Wednesday evenings here. They went once a couple of weeks ago; I had never been.

I think it was good for me. I'm going to try to work in a bit of meditation on a regular schedule and see what happens. I try to apply a lot of the principles that were introduced tonight anyway, but it's definitely something that could afford to be practiced and cultivated.

We did three separate meditations, the second of which was “walking” or “moving meditation.” It was a bit awkward at first, and then I realized that it was because dance is my moving meditation. When I'm home alone I put on music and just move, whatever seems like a good idea, I let the music guide me. That's what they were going for this evening, I think, but seeing as most people are too shy to really let loose in a room of people they don't know (I know I was the first few times I was asked to do it), just walking while drawing your awareness to everything you sense was probably the better way to go. Personally, though, I felt somewhat restricted. I decided I'll have to dance more in my room or maybe up on the balcony when nobody else is around.

I've been trying to work in a bit of yoga here and there, but it's mainly driven by my need to stretch. About a month and a half ago I took a yoga class in Bhagsu where we were instructed on how to properly do a headstand; I think I'm doing something wrong, though. Can anyone help? You yogis and yoginis out there... how do you do it?

What did you do over the holiday?

Oh my goodness... my students are great.

I have them write a reflection after every test, and every time we have any days off from class I have them write about what happens during the holiday. Last week we had the entire week off; HH the Dalai Lama was teaching Monday-Thursday, and so Tibet Charity decided to just close for the whole week since it didn't make much sense to have class only on Friday.

This evening I was procrastinating, whining internally about having to grade so many tests (not that many, really.. it was definitely whining) – I studied Hindi, I graded a little at a time and rewarded myself with other activities like rewinding the yarn I bought or doing push-ups, or making a list of reasons to stay until December and another list of reasons to leave a few weeks early. Eventually I decided to just buckle down and finish grading. After I got through the tests – which wasn't that bad – I remembered I still had to correct the papers on what they'd done last week.

Once I actually started doing it it went so quickly... lol... Their writing is a bit dry and predictable (usually) when they have to write about “your daily routine” or when they are asked to answer specific questions. When I let them write about what they want, though, some of them get really creative. I have a few students who must be getting pretty comfortable with me and/or with the English language, because they express these colorful, lively stories.

As it turns out, a few of my students went out to the Rewalsar/Manali area last week as well. One told me about how he and his friend got sick on the bus and threw up on the way to Rewalsar. He said that when he got there he “saw lake and statue so strong faith, but in the lake lot of fish so a little compassion.” Only Buddhists! He also worked in some of the vocabulary words we'd been using in conversation class. He did not vomit on the way back.

Another student, one of the monks, told me about how he and a friend went down to Lower Dharamsala to shop, and how they stopped for sweets and sweet tea. They met another friend on the way back who suggested they all go get some more sweets – and how they had a fun little discussion about how they couldn't keep eating like that because they'd get sick, and it's a good thing he bought new shoes to exercise!

Part of the test was to answer questions like “What do you always do?” and “What do you sometimes do?” Many of them answered that they always study English, but one said she always dances at home. I gave all of those answers smiley faces. Maybe they'll get stickers, too.

A few of my students begin nearly every writing assignment with “Hi dear teacher, how are you?” or “Dear teacher Magda...” I think it's cute. It's stuff like this that makes me want to stay. Regardless of when I leave, I'm going to miss them. I have a few of their email addresses; I'll have to get more of them. Maybe I can connect with some of them on Google+ (where you can filter who sees what much more easily than you can on Facebook). I have a few who ask if I'm teaching conversation class or if another teacher is; I suspect that they play favorites, and I know at least one of them comes to my class and not the others. I admit it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside.

As far as the coming-home plans, it looks like financially it'll be pretty much a wash between staying until December or coming home a few weeks early. I'll see how I feel after the trip to Rajasthan, I guess. There are plenty of teachers here and I spoke to the boss, who said it would be fine to go whenever I wanted, so that's nice to know.

On an unrelated note, it looks like my room threw up on my bed. I'm an artist, I tell ya... that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Organized chaos: it's how I work best. I like having things neat and clean, but somehow I can never keep them that way for long. It just seems to futile to constantly be putting things away when you know they're just going to get taken out again... right? Plus when it's as humid as it is here, you almost have to leave your clothes out in an attempt to let them dry, unless you aren't concerned about that pesky mildew smell.

And now, since I did manage to finish grading all of these tests, I think I am going to reward myself with a bit of knitting before I get back to studying Hindi, or designing some kind of grammar drills for class. I think they need a little more structure in their writing assignments, and it's my job to provide that. Giving them sentences on the board to correct as a class has also gone over well in the past; I should come up with some more of those to give them. Hmmm......

Suggestions?

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: