Super Big Post #2

Hey all!

Thank you all for being very patient.  Here, at long last, are the photos!

I’ve added (and will continue to add) comments on some of the photos.

-Nick

 

Super Big Post #1

Hey all!

Heaping piles of news for everyone! First of all, I’m back in Canada, safe and sound. It’s wonderful to be back, especially with a new pair of eyes.

Second, what everyone is really concerned about – pictures. Yes, I have them, and I’m in the process of uploading them. I’ll add them over the next few days.

Briefly, it’s been incredibly busy since my last post. There was the hike up to Triund (where I apparently did little else other than sleep and take photos), the painful descent (no injuries, just sore legs – fine now), and the mad rush to get everything ready and finished in Dharamsala before we returned to Delhi on Thursday afternoon. In the meantime I volunteered at the Hope Center and befriended a monk. Delhi was hot and crowded, tho with occasional spots of incredibly peace and beauty. The ride home was long tho comfortable, and I spent yesterday mostly sleeping.

All right, now the long version:
Triund: It was a six hour hike uphill from the CCS flats. We set out around 9 in the morning, climbing through a Tibetan village on a path towards McLeod. With the packs and the pace of the hike, I was sweating well before even reaching McLeod (which was only the first resting spot on the journey!). It was only after leaving McLeod that the natural beauty of the place really shone. Just a few minutes out, we passed through an old cedar forest, misty and cool, rich with the scents of the trees. There was a fun “shortcut” involving hiking up a stairway of slick, mossy rocks smoothed by the constant trickle of water. According to one of my two guides, a woman hiking last year boasted about being the “world’s most experienced hiker” only to slip and fall here (thankfully without anyone getting hurt). (Of course, the same woman proved her worth later by trekking from Triund to a nearby glacier in 45 minutes, when local boys take ~3 hours.)

There were many (much-needed) breaks along the way to stop for chai. As we ascended, we were treated to views of ever-increasing breadth. Slowly, the entire Kangra valley spread beneath us. There were brief moments when the sun was able to penetrate the mist, but generally we were kept cool by the clouds ands the dark canopy of rhododendrons.

In the final stretch, altitude sickness started overcoming me, as I felt dizzy, nauseous, and tired. We took breaks every few hundred feet at the end, which was a bit embarrassing… It was incredible when we finally made it to Triund. It is this idyllic little meadow of extremely short grass, soft and dewy, upon which sit large, weathered crags of stone. Nature’s lawnmowers – a herd of cows and sheep, with a horse thrown in – kept the grasses to the height of golf greens.

Our eating accommodations were a little shack made from branches tied together, and covered with a tarp. Still, the food and company were great – as I was to discover, our guides were funny story tellers, and some of the other hikers spending the night were equally hilarious. Again, everyone had a huge laugh at the confusion over my appearance (“is she a girl or boy?”) and I smiled and shared some of the funnier experiences of that sort I’ve had in India.

At nighttime, far above the light of the cities, the milky way appeared along with an ocean of stars. The nearby mountains were black, silhouetted against the dark blue sky. A cool, damp breeze and the smell of wet earth and cowpies. The immensity of the mountains, and the tininess of Triund and my small body, awed me.

As I slept, some of the other hikers awoke, at midnight, to being a twelve hour hike across the mountains. It being a religious holiday, several people came to Triund in order to go to one of the many local mountain lakes, in order to take a holy bath. I was tempted to join them for the sheer epicness of the undertaking (and bragging rights, fo course), but tiredness made the trip sound less appealing. So, off they went, as I slept (despite a noisy Punjabi drinking party), to a destination 6 hours away, on the other side of the range, at night, through forests, without any rests along the way. At their location, they would bathe with a mere two liters of water from the lake and then return. I saw them at noon the next day, tired and content.

One of our guides awoke the two of us – my American co-volunteer, Ben, and I – around 7am.  He explained that he came to wake us because the view was amazing, but that the fog was coming, so we only had a little time before the view would be spoiled.  He said “good morning.”  I said, “good morning.”  Ben said, “What’s up, mother******?”

Well, the guide was so angry that he left immediately.  I suppose that greeting someone with casual swearing is an American habit that doesn’t cross cultures well.  Anyways, at breakfast, the guide came to me and spoke privately about how offended he was! “I do not call you two customers, but friends.  But he calls me that.  I suppose he thinks that since he is paying me, he can call me whatever he wants! Well, fine – he can do that and I’ll take his money.  But I don’t want to have that kind of relationship.”

I spoke to Ben, and encouraged him to apologize, explaining that the guide didn’t understand his humour.  Ben, to his credit, immediately went and explained himself, apologizing.  They didn’t seem to get along well immediately after that, but when I returned from a brief hike further up the mountain (i went with the other guide, and Ben and his friend stayed back), they were laughing, slapping each others’ backs and teaching each other swear words in their respective languages!

During the short hike, we went up to the snow line.  No snow currently, tho I’m assured it appears int he winter.  On the way, the guide pointed out some local plants and wildlife, as well as places of interest – including the “Snow Line Cafe” which is buried each year under 10 feet of snow during winter.  He also showed me different rock climbing holds, and told me the story of the nearby glacier:

Long ago (in the previous age), Krishna walked through these mountains with his friends and family.  He saw a snake, and fearing for the safety of his family, struck it dead.  But her spirit was troubled, for she felt she had been killed unjustly.  Krishna realized he was at fault and asked for forgiveness.  The sanke replied that she would accept his apology, but only on the condition that he bury her without earth or mud.  So he ordered the skies to snow, and buried her with ice.  So the glacier that we see today snakes around the mountains because it follows the contours of her body.

The view, of course, was incredible.

The descent was uneventful, which is probably good.  I arrived back in time to shower and to be confused, tired and hungry.

Hope Center: On Friday (before Triund) I went to the Hope Center and was pleased to find that I was missed.  So, I promised to come on my remaining three evenings.  Each day was excellent, as I felt I learned quite a bit about the life of a Tibetan in China, and the dangers of crossing the Himalayas and the difficulties of living in India.

After the conversation class, one monk approached me and asked if I had any free time.  I did, so we went to a nearby cafe and chatted.  He was impressed when I said that I wanted to follow the Mahayana ideal and that I hoped for my career to be in academia (and to learn Sanskrit and Tibetan).  We somehow got onto the topic of food, Tibetan vegetarian food in particular.  I ended up asking him to join me for dinner tomorrow (Tuesday), so that he could teach me a bit about it (and so that I could try Tibetan butter tea).

We went the enxt day to the Snow Lion Hotel & Restaurant, enjoying a vegetable stew and some steamed bread. I’ll admit that, at first, I didn’t really like the butter tea, but after a cup it started growing on me.  I simply couldn’t think of it as the same thing as a cup of Earl Grey or matcha… it was more like salty milk, with a tea flavour/quality about it.  It was refreshing, and somehow made me want to read.

We chatted about our lives and our plans for the future.  We exchanged email addresses and mobile numbers (he had a rather nice phone!) and then we (and some other volunteers from the Hope Center) took picutres (he also had a very nice camera!).

As we were walking down towards Dharamsala, he stopped and pointed to an alleyway, inviting me to his apartment.  I was surprised, but went with him.  We ascended some rickety metal stairs up an unlit corridor. Then we passed by some concrete apartments that Tibetan refugees were living in.   Everywhere, the smells of life: food and laundry.  He eventually lead me to his tiny cell: a small room with a view, two beds, a dresser and single shelf (for books) and, like every Tibetan store and cafe in McLeod, a picture of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.  He invited me in and took an English book off of the shelf: “The Peaceful Stillness of the Silent Mind.”  He handed it to me, saying, “This is for you, to help you on the beginning levels [of Buddhist study].”  Then he turned again to the shelf and picked a second book, handing it to me.  “And this very high level stuff.”  It looked impressive and was undoubtedly protected against my uninitiated eyes, for it was completely written in Tibetan.

I was extremely touched by both gifts, thanked him many times, and we went back down to the road.
As we walked a little further, he asked if I wanted ot become a monk.  “Perhaps,” I replied, “but I doubt my girlfriend would like that!”  He laughed, and I asked, “Do monks ever have girlfriends?”  Laughing, he said, “No, of course not!”  We walked a little while longer in silence, and then he said, “I think you’ll become a monk.  You have good thinking.”

I thanked him and bid him goodnight.

—

Next day was my last at the Hope Center.  The staff thanked me for volunteering, took a picture of all of us volunteers, and gave me a Tibetan scarf as a token of their gratitude.  I made a point of thanking them for the opportunity to learn so much about the situation in China, Tibetan culture and Tibetan food.

We volunteers, at CCS, had special goodbye dinner with some excellent lentils.  We talked with the staff and other volunteers, and afterwards had a little tea party in one of the flats.  One of the volunteers made chai int he Indian way, and I spread a plate of biscuits I purchased in the market.  It was great, just talking and sharing.

Departure & Delhi: We left Thursday after treatment.  It was sad, leaving what had become my home for five weeks, and the many new friends I’ve met.  Still, I was prepared for (and looking forward to) that day, since it would be the start of my return home.  Writing now, at home, I am incredibly happy to be back ands able to see everyone!

Delhi was hot and dusty, active late into the night.  Coming from cool, rural Dharamsala, I was surprised at the business and heat.

We spent Friday visiting the Baha’i Lotus Temple, a massive temple in the shape of a nine-petaled lotus.  The entire architecture of the temple revolved around stars and flowers with nine points.  I suppose that they follow the Islamic idea of not depicting God in human form, but the symbolism of nine is lost on me.  (Incidentally, the mandala of Manjushri I saw in a Tibetan museum also focused on nine points.) The temple grounds were clean and surprisingly ordered.  I had been accustomed to people being pushy, regardless of whether they were in  the market or a temple.

The inside of the temple was beautiful, expansive and symmetrical.  It also had great acoustics: we were treated to a brief sung prayer which was melodious and conveyed its tone and feeling well.  It was then that I was reminded of a Hindu theological belief that the world is composed entirely of sound, and that everything we sense vibrates at a different level.  At the bottom is gross matter, above that physical sound, then thought, then sounds that are never heard but that can only be imagined…

Back in Delhi proper, we had a wrap-up session with the CCS coordinator, who told us honestly that, should we return to India, we could probably navigate fine by ourselves (that is, without them).  She also asked us to stay in contact, and said that if we wanted any advice or information on traveling to or volunteering in various parts of India, she’d be glad to help.  I’ve been very pleased with the CCS program – the staff are wonderful and everything is structured – but I was glad to receive more freedom as the program progressed and I’m sure that when I return to India, I will design a plan of my own.

That evening we visited a local bazaar and were somewhat surprised and somewhat amused to find many of the same goods in Delhi that were marketed in McLeod as “exclusive Tibetan handicrafts.”  There’s probably a company that manufactures most of the items and sells them to tourist spots across the country.

Next day, some volunteers went to Agra to see the Taj Mahal.  Instead, I went to the Red Fort (a beautiful red sandstone fort in Old Delhi, built to protect one of the Mughal emperors) and afterwards went with some of the volunteers who wanted to go sari shopping.  I have never seen such bargaining in my life.  We looked at some beautiful fabrics and dresses, and they were all rather costly.  One woman, a volunteer with us, assertively bargained with the shopkeeper for over an hour, and made obvious progress the moment we started leaving.  I’m not sure what happened, as she stayed behind a half-hour longer than most of the rest of us, but when we saw her next, she had managed to buy both saris for half price, with free tailoring.  All this in a store that had “Fixed Price” signs everywhere!

I was exhausted by the evening, so I rested in a hotel.

Sunday, the day of my departing flight, was relaxing.  We went for a stroll through the gorgeous Lodi Gardens, a large well-maintained garden system in the heart of Delhi with several Mughal tombs.  I forgot my camera (sorry!) but I would have loved to snap a picture of the men sitting on the stone graves, smoking, chatting about nothing in a graffiti-filled tomb.

Reflections: I’ll save these ofr another time – like in a few days, when I post all the pictures.  Too tired right now.  Good night, everyone!  It’s wonderful to be home!

-Nick

 

Daily Life

Just a short update on what’s happening:  I spent the afternoon at the Hope Center, a place for volunteers to spend an hour teaching (mostly Tibetan) students conversational English.  Its my third time today, and its very rewarding – some of the stories of crossing the Himalayas, evading Chinese soldiers, and adapting to life in India are incredible.  I plan to go on each of the remaining weekdays (Monday through Wednesday) before I depart for Delhi.

This weekend, I’m going to hike in the Himalayas.  Specifically, I’m heading to a place called Triund, which is past a  beautiful cedar forest.  A friend showed me the photographs he took, and I realized that with only one weekend remaining here, I had to go!

Volunteering was rather tough today – we had the clients discuss their worst drug experiences.  Some of the retellings were excellent, full of emotion and finishing with a commitment to ending the habit.  Others were unable to understand the instructions, or simply didn’t care.  The problem is not so much the marijuana use, but confrontations with the law, friends and family.  Many of the patients admitted to stealing from their family or bringing trouble from their addictions home.  One man ruined his business because of his heroin addiction.  Two of the clients had the same answer, verbatim, when asked about their personal experiences… In fact, they’ve done this sort of thing since they’ve joined the center, so we (the counselor and us volunteers) confronted them on it.  We found that, apart, they were able to give surprisingly good answers.  I’ll find a way of engaging them individually on Monday.

I only have four days of volunteering left – Thursday, right after leaving my volunteering placement, I’m hopping on a flight to Delhi.  My feelings are ambivalent – I want to be home, and yet I’m already missing India.  Nothing profound here – sorry folks, I’m tired.

On a lighter note, I’m looking forward to returning to a land where prices don’t suddenly increase because I’m a foreigner, where it’s (theoretically) possible to strike up a conversation with most people on the street, and where one need not fear scorpions in one’s bed, ever.  Here are a few ways life in Toronto and Dharamsla differ:

Prices: the Dollar, Euro and Pound are all exceptionally strong here, so its dangerous to translate prices from Rupees into currency from home.  It is exceptionally easy for tourists to get ripped off here, since we don’t know the local prices or the value of a Rupee.  It is only now that I’m starting to get a feel for its value.  Paying 1100 Rupees for a hotel room (approx. $30) for one night might sound cheap by Western standards, but that might equal several full days of work for a professional, and be completely out of the question for most rural people.  Even paying 80 Rupees ($2) to repair a chair is very, very pricey for rural folk here.  It’s simply not comparable to Canada.  Also, one should expect to bargain for mostly everything here, except in special “fioxed prices” stores.  Most prices can be safely negotiated to about 2/3 of the asking price.  One can tell how honest a salesperson is being by how quickly they come down in prices – the more and the faster they lower prices, the bigger the initial attempt at riping you off.

Language: most people I meet speak Hindi and at least a bit of broken English, but the rural folk speak Pahari, the native dialect.  Those who speak the best English are the shopkeepers, of course.  There’s simply no talking to them in Hindi – they want to sweet talk tourists in English.  Surprisingly, they can excellently describe their goods but become rather hard of hearing when you try saying “no” or ask them to lower the price.

Roads: most roads here are either terrible or terribly exciting, depending on your view.  They are full of potholes, thin, ascend and descend at steep angles, and wind about the mountain such that traffic more than 20 feet in front of you is concealed by a bend in the road.  I was surprised to hear that roads here are repaired every three months, because by the look of things they were last touched up sometime during the British occupation.  It is not recommended to sit in the back seat of a large car, especially if one easily gets carsick.

Flora and Fauna: India, especially the mountainous regions, is incredibly beautiful.  I’ve seen everything from cacti to banana trees within a few hours drive of here, and vegetation grows on everything that isn’t moving.  There’s a downside, though: an unmoved backpack, for example, can easily grow an impressive forest of tropical moulds (as my roomate discovered to his chagrin).  I do not think my straw hat will return with me.

Dogs roam about everywhere, and are lazy.  Monkeys have adapted quickly to modern conveniences: they wait patiently at the side of roads for cars to pass, and quickly learned where humans leave the best food.  In Shimla, I saw a monkey clamber down a store roof, pilfer a bag of chips without the shopkeeper noticing, and bolt off to consume its prize.

Mousquitos are everpresnt.  Especially at the Hope Center.  Before today, I’ve never had a mousquito bite on my face.

I’ve seen a single Elephant, on the road to Amritsar.  No peacocks or camels, tho one of the neighbouring properties to my flat houses a bull.  No clue why it’s there.  One must constantly watch the road when walking so as to avoid the diverse and colourful piles of crap.

(One volunteer had the odd habit of calling these piles “birthday cakes.”  Don’t ask me for an explanation!  Whenever someone would step in a pile, she would loudly and cheerfully exclaim, “Oh! You’ve just had your birthday cake!  Happy Birthday!”)

Religion: religion is everywhere and an integral part of life.  People assume everyone is religious (whether they be Hiundu, Buddhist, Sikh, etc.), which is true for practically everyone but tourists.  Religion also mixes with capitalsim in odd ways here, for one can find images of gods on stickers and stores involving the name of a god but having nothing to do with them.  For example, “Shiva Confectionaries.”  What this ascetic god has to do with eating sweets is completely beyond me, (perhaps these bakers are devout Shaivites?).  It’s just hard to imagine a Canadian parallel: I could never imagine seeing a store called “Jesus Christ Doughnuts” for example.

That’s it for now, folks.  I’m exhausted, and very thankful that its the weekend.

-Nick

 

Shimla

Hey everyone!

It’s been a busy last week.  Friday was Independence Day, and we decided to celebrate it by going to the capital of the state, Shimla. Most of the other volunteers left on Thursday (and some are leaving tomorrow!) so there were only four of our batch remaining.  So, off we went and endured an eight or nine hour car ride (only ~240km) to the capital.  Perhaps endured is harsh – there were some incredible views on the way there, allowing us to see some of the beauty of the Himalayas.

When we arrived, tired and groggy, the natural thing was to find a restaurant (with attached bar).  My stomach was upset by the ride, but everyone else was looking forward to some Western food and a beer or some red wine.  Apparently, they celebrate Independence Day here by working (every shop was open) and not drinking.  It took awhile for the group to wrap their heads around it.  Celebrations without beer?

(We discovered later that, had we stayed in Dharamsala, we would have been able to see many parades and festivals… yet there was nothing in the capital of the state!)

Next morning, we visited the Monkey Temple, where we were all secretly hoping to be ambushed by crowds of monkeys.  Instead, it was simply a place to pray.  Granted, temples to Hanuman, the monkey god, are always erected in places with monkeys, but we didn’t see a single songbird, let alone a crowd of dirty monkeys!

The heavy rains and fog prevented us from visiting the botanical gardens that Shimla is known for.  We tried to visit a waterfall in the area, but the paths simply disappeared into the fog (and night was closing).  Still, I found the forest particularly invigorating because of its incredibly quiet, somewhat haunting atmosphere.

There were us three travelers (one of us stayed at the hotel and rested), wandering down forested mountain paths unfamiliar to us all.  I could only see about twenty feet ahead of me.  There were tall, dark pines, austere and strong against the foggy background.  No animals stirred; the only sounds were our footsteps and the waterfall’s soft roar, distant.  We were first warned not to go to the waterfall today because of the weather, but then the same man recommended we travel down the path just a bit, to see the vegetation.  We found symmetrical cuts in the bases of the pines, signs of the aboriginal people of the area collecting sap, but we saw no-one.  On the path were deer tracks, but we didn’t see anything but a few flies.  The whole thing was quiet, ambiguous, dreamlike.

In fact, the trip as a whole turned into a more introverted, intimate time.  Instead of exploring the markets (unimpressive), gardens, etc. of the city, we went for walks and bonded as a small group.  Here, surrounded by the mountains and in a place far from the other volunteers, we shared a great meal while talking about life, travel, and home. Discussion was lively, and smiles appeared on everyone’s faces when the comforting food arrived (ministrone and some spinach pasta for me, lamb and some beer for others).  It’s amazing how much one misses the food of home.  Perhaps the scents and flavours trigger involuntary and powerful memories of home. Perhaps our great enjoyment came from sharing a meal with the only familiar faces in the last month. Regardless, we had a great evening and a good rest.

—

This week has been busy, with my only roommate soon moving out (returning to Wales) ands the five new volunteers arriving.  The very first night they were here, I had a long conversation with Chris, a volunteer joining the detox centre.  It was dark, and as we walked back to our flats, a motorcycle came roaring up the pathway.  Now, these are not streets but rural pathways, mostly gravel and about four feet wide on the side of a mountain.  There are no streetlights and even less repair.  So when the motorcycle blinded Chris with its lights, he tried to sidestep it – and fell right off the path.  He fell six feet straight onto a bed of uneven rocks.  To make things even worse, that particular patch of rocks serves as the garbage and sewage heap of the area.

Anyways, I ran to get the staff, another volunteer stayed with him, and the whole staff helped him.  Fortunately, he didn’t hit his head or back.  All the weight hit him in the chest.  He had a badly bruised knee, a cut from his watch and shortness of breath, but overall he was in surprisingly good shape.

He was able to come to the detox centre today, and will be around after I leave.  I’m glad to see that he’s in better condition.  It figures that this happens when I forget my flashlight at the flat (which I now carry with me constantly).

I’m aiming to write again on Friday, perhaps, and have some amusing anecdotes about daily life here.  I’ll probably have to wait until I get home to upload pictures (very troublesome at Internet cafes here), but I’m taking many.  With less than two weeks before I’m home, I’m getting excited to see everyone and anxious to accomplish everything here that remains to be done.

I love you all.  Have a great morning! (except here, its 5pm).

-Nick

 

Amritsar and Detox

Hi everyone!

It’s been too long, I’m afraid.  This week has been incredibly busy – on the weekend, a large group of us volunteers went to Amritsar in Punjab in order to see the Golden Temple of the Sikhs.  It is a massive, beautiful marble structure surrounding an artifical lake.  In the centre fo the lake is the Golden Temple.  We went before dawn, and watchedthe Eastern sky lighten as they chanted from their holy book.  I wished to know mroe about Sikkhism, since most of the sacred places, texts, gurus, etc., were completely unknown to me.

The sky at daybreak was incredible – it was painted with long streaks of pastel blues and mauves, with thin lines of white clouds.  Later, at noon, two of us braved the crowds, heat and fierce sun to cross the bridge to the Golden Temple (in the centre of the lake – the courtyard with the lake we all saw earlier) and see its interior.  The walls and floors were white marble with inlay of dark green marble, jasper, onyx and carnelion.  Some of the walls depicted paintings over a hundred eyars old, and in some palces the interior was completely gilt.  A massive book rested on the roof in a small shrine, where an old man sat like royalty, reading from the book and ignoring the throngs of worshippers.

Otherwise, Amritsar was hot and unpleasant.  We saw the changing of the guards at the Pakistan-India border, but it was very hot and crowded.  Still, it was interesting to see the flashy marches, high kicks and competitiveness.

This week, I moved from the summer camp to a detox centre.  What a change!  I’ve been trying to learn as much as possible from Shirley, a woman who worked there, before she left today (Thursday).  The majority fo the men in this detox centre are alcoholics or marijuana abusers, but one fellow sniffed white-out.  Resources are a little scarce – while the counsellor (and translator) is quite good, there are no psychologists or psychiatrists in the facillity (to the best of my knowledge).  The men are kept here for 30 days, and then they return to their homes.  It seems like it will be quite hard to help, since so much is needed – and yet on the other hand, with so little even my limited experience can help.  I’ve eben able to learn a little bit from Shirley, and she’s given me some of the books she’s found most useful.  I’m going to work here for the remainder of my trip, with one other volunteer.  She’s an ex-social worker, so I hope to elarn from her, as well.

This work has reinvigorated my desire to help people via psychology, but my academic and career interests remain tied to religious studies.  I think that if I took part in a counselling course or something similar, I could volunteer to help that way.

I may head to Shimla, capital of the region, tomorrow, as ti will be Independence day.  I’m also feeling sick, however (somehow avoided it until now!) so I may simply stay here and rest.

Seeing the other volunteers leave has reminded me of how much I miss home.  I’m also happy to be here, so I guess my feelings are confused.  Anyways, I hope everyone is feeling alright.

Take care, everyone!

-Nick

 

Tibetan Business

Hey all!  Just a short post right now.

There are dozens of pictures I should post, but there are a few technical problems.  Worst case scenario, I’ll post my pictures when i return, tho I really hope to be able to upload them sooner.  It seems that, judging from my pictures, it is the landscape that impresses me most.

Yesterday, we went to the Dalai Lama’s summer house, the Norbulingka Institute.  It is a beautiful temple and garden complex, with intricate and colourfully painted walls and gates.  The temple was designed by a Japanese architecht to smbolize the body of Avolokiteshvara, the Buddha of Compassion (of whom the Dalai Lama is considered an incarnation).  I also got a chnace to see Tibetan thangka paintings being made (these are the wall scrolls and mandalas that are so popular here).

Bizarre coincidence – a friend and I were chatting about spiritual matters over tea (he, too, came here in search of something spiritual) when we mentioned hw we haven’t seen any scorpions yet (tho we were warned against them).  Well, no sooner said than done – a three inch black scorpion crawled up onto the porch for a visit!  I was squeamish, my roomate snapped some pictures, and the other tea drinker just lifted it up with some paper and tossed it into the bushes.  Daily life is remarkably diferent here (I will latyer write about Indian Time (like Western, but less punctual) and bucket showers).

For a short post, this has become long.  One last thin – today, I visited the library I wrote about before.  Also, a Tibetan astrologer (but the year-long waitlist turned me off).

I hope you are all doing well! Take care!

-Nick

 

Dharamsala

Hey all!

A few hours ago, I was listening to the Dalai Lama’s lecture.  Well, mroe specifically, I was desperately tuning a poor quality radio while straining to hear the English translation.  Despite the difficulties, however, I’m thankful to have been there.

Yesterday morning, I began feeling more like a traveller, an explorer, rather than a Westerner washed ashore in a foreign land.  Perhaps it was because yesterday was my day off, so I had some time to slow down, digest my expreiences, etc.

The big afternoon activity was the visit to a temple of Shiva.  It was sutiably dramatic – it began raining as we arrived (passing by a mural of the Ganges river falling on Shiva’s head, no less), and as soon as we were finished there, a full-force monsson hit the area.  Now, since it is holy land, one leaves one’s shoes at the entrance, so everyone’s shoes were soaked completely through.  Still, it was fascinating to learn of the history of the temple as it is about 5000 years old.  Upon its completion, the head priest had himself walled in!  They say that his ghost still wanders the temple, especially at nighttime – and there is a special room set aside for him, with a bed and slippers.  Each day, the slippers are in a different position (but while I was there, a man walked in to adjust the fire, so I wonder how much supernatural activity truly occurs).

At nighttime, several vounteers and I meditated on a rooftop while watching the lightning on the horizon.  Above us hung the Milky Way.  After we were done (read: when someone got bored and started talking to the other people), we had an impromptu dance party in the same place.  It was a satisfying end to the night.

That’s about it for now.  I hope to see all of you when i return

-Nick

 

Safely in India!

Hey everyone! Sorry for the exceptionally long delay in writing! The Internet is extremely unreliable aroundthe volunteer base, so I’m currently writing from an Internet Cafein McLeod Ganj (the Tibetan area in Dharamsala). It’s been a week, and there is not enugh space to decribe everything I’ve encountered.

I arrived in Delhi at night,and it seemsthe only traffic laws there (and here) are a) drive on the left side fo the road, and b) honk a lot. Cos and pedestrians wander casually acrossthe highway, and traffic is a noisy blur.

The first fews days were orientation in Delhi. The other volunteers are great – intelligent, dedicated, caring people (except for a few rotten apples). We’ve bonded together through the distance from our families.

Delhi is hot, loud, active, full of people, colour, smells. A two-hundred year old tree with a red cord wrapped around it, with a picture of Ganesh. Hot chai servedduring an impassioned lecture on Indian history. Staying up late talking with the other volunteers in our flat.

A few of us (including me) were exceptionally lucky on our flight from Delhi to Dharamsala: His Holiness the Dalai Lama was on the same flight! Unfortunately, I satat thefront and he at the back, but a few volunteers snapped pictures of himwhile he was there. Also on the plane, just across the aisle from me, was amonk who no other monk would sit near. I found out that he is the current head of another sect of Buddhism, the headof the Karma Kagyu order. The monk sitting across from me was totally overwhelmed (or else afraid of flying, which is also very likely).

Dharamsala is cool and majestic. The temperature is quite reasonable, tho always humid. From nearly everywhere in the city, whether the volunteer flats, the summer camp I volunteer, the bustling andnoisy market, or the touristy McLeod ganj, the Himalayas are majestic. Tall, green, fading with the mist into a dozen curtains, each lighter and lighter, they are a constant sight but always changing. Some peaks are almost always covered by mist and cloud, while the valley is almost always visible. Occaisonally, though, mist envelops the city and one can see nothing in the valley below.

Yesterday, a few of us volunteers and I had tea with two monks. One, who did all the talking, apologized for his English but it was excellent – just as he claimed to have practically no adancement on his spiritual path. I was able to learn a bit from him, especially about Buddhist ideas of empiteness and impermanence, aswell as the Tibetan viewpoints on the Chinese government. Also, that monks seem to be fans of action movies!

After one week, I think I’m finally adapting to life here. At first, the changes were dizzying, especially the movement from the urban Delhi to the more scattered (and vertical)Dharamsala. The first week of volunteering has ben rather strictly scheduled, but promises to lighten up. I am frustrated to learn that the Hindi I learned at home does nto correspond to whatis spoken here. I know a few phrases, but much of the pronunciation, common words and grammar differ at least slightly. Fortunately, English is widespread.

I miss home, and missed it intensely the first few days (especially when I had not yet been able to contact anyone!). Apparently, my cell phone works here (tho expensive). I need to get a charger. I’ll write again later, probably adding in many detaisl I’m forgetting now.

I hope you are all well! Thanks for the well-wishing!

-Nick

 

About to leave…

Hello everyone!

…and, goodbye!  I’m just finishing those last-minute details.  Next post, I’ll be in India!  Take care, everyone!

-Nick

 

Namaste!

Hello everyone!

As you know, I’m going to depart soon for India. This is the travel blog I’ll maintain while away, and hopefully I’ll update a two or three times a week.  Contact information and details about the flight, expected weather, why I’m doing this, etc., are all in the Basic Information page accessible at the top of the page.  I’m not quite used to wordpress, so this site may change once or twice.

Things are getting exciting as the 25th approaches.  I’ve had a wonderful time meeting up with many of you, saying goodbyes and sharing food.  I’m pretty optimistic about preparations and the schedule right now (except my Hindi, which sort of slowed to a crawl…) .

Please feel free to add comments, or email me (nicholaskenjifield at gmail dot com).  If I’ve forgotten someone, or you think they’d like to read this blog, show it to them!  My apologies ot everyone I forget.

See you all in Spetember!

-Nick Field