Hello Dalai... Goodbye India

Somehow I found the train out of Amritsar to Pathankot from which I planned to catch the bus onward to Dharamsala- home of the Dalai Lama and his exiled government. Thankfully, the bus was easier to find than the train- I just headed for the berth with the large pile of kiwi hippies. Actually, only five, and they were not all hippies, more of an assorted group of anglophones than Kiwis. Not with them was the Polish rastafarian who kept telling everyone he had just come from Pakistan. His only luggage was a digeridoo, (thank god he digeri-didn't try to play it on the bus*) and lucky me, I got the seat next to him. A bridge had gone out no the road to Dharamsala, so we had to take a detour. Unfortunately, the detour was a muddy one lane road. Unfortunately, busses and trucks from each direction had decided to take the detour, resulting in a massive traffic jam alleged to be sixty cars deep, just stuck facing each other on the top of the detour road. This made for a bit of standing around time, which was good beacuse I was also really hungry and thirsty. This was exacerbated by the fact that I had a candy in my pocket (given to me as change instead of rupees) that I had decided to try to aid my thirst, only to discoer ut was spicey masala falvored candy. Yeach! By the way, I've noticed that EVERYTHING here comes in spicey masala flavor- from Lays potato chips to cigarettes to candy. Anyway, I got my water and then got to know the group of kiwis a bit as we stood around a tea stall by the side of the road drinking chai, and they were a good group. We decided to wander around and see what was happening in the town (nothing- except that it seemed the town village had turned out to watch the army and police fight with each other about sorting out the massive knot of a traffic jam). A few buses up we discovered a number of nuns from a Korean Zen convent leading their bus of pilgrims to Dharamsala in some ridiculous looking calisthenics. Bored, we decided to join in the aerobics, much to the delight of all the nuns and Koreans. The buses then started, so we all ran back to get on the bus and move sixty feet before stopping again.
We decided to try to play gin rummy but had no table, and so the game soon got out of control, at which point we decided to go up to the roof, where we could watch the beginning of the sunset over the himalayas anyway. We all clambered up and started playing cards on top of someone's steamer trunk, and before we knew it the bus was moving again, with us still on top! Soon we were zooming through the jungle, ducking rhodedendron bushes and sliding all over the place as the bus careened around corners and tilted perilously past gorges with us clinging to the top. Still, it felt safer up there than on the bus- at least we could jump off in the event of a crash. We were just laughing uproariously, waving at the at the locals with cries of "HAL-ooooo!! howareyooooo?" before all bursting into a rowdy rendition of Sadly, after about twenty minutes of wiping tears of laughter from our eyes, the driver slowed to another stop and we were waved back to our seats. It was some of the most fun I've had- if you ever have the opportunity to play cards on top of a moving bus through the himalayan jungle- don't miss your chance.

But the hours of delays meant that a 3:00 arrival was more like 9:30, so, exhausted I found a guesthouse and crashed for the night. Dharamsala itself is kind of a dump, so I stayed where most people do- upper dharamsala, AKA McLeod Ganj- a town about 50% backpacker/ 50% Tibetan monks 10k up the mountain. As I mentioned before, Dharamsala is a small hill station that the DL and his exiles were offered by Nehru back when they initially fled Tibet following the Chinese invasion. Since then, its been the center for Tibetans fleeing oppression in China. It also happens to be full of backpackers and various spiritual seekers, and happens to be the rainiest place in India. Oh, and did I mention its currently the rainy season. It is beautiful however, when the clouds part, which they do for up to minutes at a time, stunning views of bright green himalayas appear, with terraced sides and amazing gorges. The rain is kind of depressing, and my guesthouse felt rather like a moist basement- there was even a massive slug in it, prompting me to move. (and I mean massive- bigger than the ones back in Washington state) . So, the Dalai Lama holds public teachings now twice a year- and this week was one of those weeks, filling up the town, but also really being quite exciting.

I got to the teachings late because I had to register (passport, photos, get an ID made and then through major security), and stumbled aroud until I foud a seat in the aisle. This turned out to have an excellent view of his holiness, only about 60 feet away. Then, when he left the teachings, I was in the front row as he walked by and blessed everyone!! Unfortunately I was not personally privy to a high five from his holiness, but I did get a wave and eye contact. This massively obese Russian woman next to me got quite the chat however, as the Dalai Lama asked where she was from then pounded her on the back and said "oooh, a big one... very big!"

The teachings were alternately obscure and esoteric and then kind of overly simple, but being there, with people from all over the world and the DL himself was a very powerful experience. The Audience was about 60% Tibetan, most of those monks. Then various westerners, as well as Koreans, Japanese, and Chinese and a handful of Hindus and Sikhs. The Buddhist monastics who had come ranged from the bright orange robed forest monks of southeast asia to stark brown and gray Zen monks of Korea and Japan. The temple itself though was kind of depressing, from the grandiose palaces and monasteries of Tibet, these people now had a rambling cement and cinder block complex that was rapidly mildewing, with a definitively industrial and utilitarian feel to it. Still, at least the Tibetans have something to call their own and replace what was destroyed by the chinese in their homeland.

Spent the next few days at the teachings and then afternoons drinking decent lattes and eating cake in all the little cafes around Dharamsala, and hanging out occasionally with the kiwis. They invited me to dinner at their palce in Bhagsu- the next village up the mountain, a little quieter and usually where people hold full moon raves in the shadows of the himalayas once a month. But it was a fun dinner, and I got to know a bunch of the local volunteers, as well as the various local weirdos who havent left Dharamsala in years. Met some cool Tibetans who were back volunteering having lived in the west their whole lives, and then one super standoffishly arrogant american who was literally wearing a fullbright t-shirt, which he was also wearing the rest of the week. (Its a small town, you keep running into people.)

Post-teachings I attended a major rally and then march protesting the IOC choice of Beijing for the Olympics, as well as the continued Chinese occupation and repression in Tibet. The whole town of McCleodGanj seemed to shut down to attend, and thousands of monks, laypeople and western supporters were there marching and chanting the five miles down to Dharamsala town. I have no idea how much media attention this garnered back home, but I gather not much. Still, it was powerful to be a part of, and though I won't get into using this blog as a soapbox, I do strongly encourage people to learn more about the Tibetan situation, as well as the situation of political freedom in general in China before buying made in China goods or supporting the Olympics.

Well kids, tonight I'm back to Delhi on a grueling overnight bus. Hopefully I will have a sober driver, unlike the Irish people I met the other day. They were telling that their driver had started doing shots of whiskey to stay awake. Then they said, without a touch of irony, "But it was only fair, the guy had been driving for 24 hours straight by then!" Ah, only my Irish brethren could make such a comment...

So I likely won't be writing again until I patch together the next set of book reviews- though I may assemble some assorted memories and observations about Indian culture. Thank you all for reading!

(Pics: Himlalayas around Dharamsala, HH the DL, Putting the Cloud back in McLeod, Protesters)

*Yeah, the didgeri-don't line belongs to Zack Whedon superstar.