Happy New Year!

Today's post is going to be cut a bit shorter than originally intended on account of my phone taking way longer than anticipated to upload pictures from Canada.

So, in lieu of that, I will say simply Happy Losar! March 2nd this year marks the beginning of the Tibetan New Year, which is called Losar (I believe it's the same in Bhutan... but don't quote me on that). If I understood my students correctly that one day in conversation class, Losar is traditionally celebrated by receiving new clothing, playing games, and eating lots of brightly colored noodles. I don't know about you, but I say that sounds like at least as much fun as the American equivalent of  getting drunk, watching a big shiny ball drop on TV, and kissing someone you may or may not actually even know.

I wish I could be in India right now to celebrate with my students and friends. Lately I've also been feeling like I really wish I could have been there for Holi, the Hindu spring festival where people throw colored dye at each other all day long (apparently). Go ahead, click on that link and tell me that doesn't look like an absolute blast. Maybe next spring, if I'm not off teaching somewhere already, I'll head back over there to check it out.

In related news, the job search continues. I've had a couple of interviews but so far nothing has gone past that. My top pick for the moment is Japan; solid pay and a first-world culture I've always found interesting makes it an enticing destination. I've got a friend who's currently teaching in China and trying to convince me to head that way. China isn't exactly near the top of my list of places I'd like to visit simply based on the fact that I tend to be a little outspoken on issues of human (and animal) rights and welfare, gender equality, and other such stuff, and China isn't exactly known for championing any of those. It's also the biggest reason I can't see myself teaching in the Middle East, even though they tend to pay better than anywhere else in the world. They can afford to, after all... they've got all that oil money. As a woman, though? Nah, not going to fly with me. I'd be deported before the first week ended.

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 ***

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......

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.

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!

Medicine "enriched with spiritual blessing"

Ever since a few days after I arrived here in Dharamsala, my right eye has been giving me problems in the  mornings. (No, not the one that had the crazy infection before I went to India.) I wake up and I feel like something's in it -- not so much an eyelash, but maybe dust. I figured it might clear up after a few days, and when it didn't, I thought perhaps after I moved to a different building the new environment would fix the issue. I thought that maybe the monsoon season and resultant mildewy cushions/sheets/everything was the culprit, and once the sun came out for more than a few hours at a time I'd feel better.

Well, long story short, none of that helped. I still wake up most mornings feeling like there's something irritating my eye and it waters constantly for a good half hour. It's obnoxious. Nothing I do seems to make a difference. I considered just riding it out until I got home, figuring maybe getting out of India would fix it.

The other day, Gusti mentioned that she was going to go to Men-Tsee-Khang, the local Tibetan medical establishment, so I asked if she'd find me some eye drops while she was there.

This is what they gave her to give to me (50 rupees, by the way.. a little under $1):

Apparently they instructed Gusti that I take them with warm water; however, the official instructions are a bit more involved. I've taken the liberty of typing up excerpts so you don't have to squint at the photo:

A night before taking the precious pill, take light decoction prepared from seven grains of yerma (prickly ash) to open up body channels. Soak the pill in a small amount of hot boiled water using an clean unbroken cup covering it with a lid and leave it to stand overnight. The pill should not be expose to bright light. Early the next morning before day breaks, crush and stir the content either with a spoon or with the ring finger and drink the whole mixture after adding little amount of hot water. Retire to bed with warm covering and sleep for about one hour in order to induce little perspiration. Following that take little amount of hot water infused with saffron to close body channels. This will help to retain the effect of medicine in the body. ... When taken for rejuvenation by a healthy person, it should be taken on an auspicious dates like eight, full moon, and new moon days of Tibetan lunar calendar to gain optimum result.

(All errors are in the original text. I copied it exactly.)

The "Cautions" section reads as follows:
For a period of three to seven days after taking the medicine, avoid fish, pork, egg, sour alcohols, onion, garlic, wild garlic, putrid food, hot spices, strenuous physical activities, accidents, daytime sleep, cold bath and sex.

Well damn.

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.

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: