Country life in Himachal Pradesh. Rich land, poor farmers. It's six o'clock in the morning and the first streaks of light are in the sky as we drive along the narrow streets of Dharamsala and continue up the road that climbs through pine, oak and rhododendron woods to the less mellifluous sounding village of McLeodganj. ('Ganj' means market and McLeod, presumably, was a Scotsman.) To complicate matters, this place with a Hindu-Scots name is filled with Tibetans.

Michael Palin - Himalaya

After two days of relative relaxation we were in a new and more spacious bus by 7:00 AM. The front of the bus showed the remarkable text 'oh god save me'. I wondered what this was telling us about today's ride to our next destination: Dharamsala (1219 m) and McLeod Ganj (1770 m), the hill stations in West Himachal Pradesh that have been the home of the 14th Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile since he fled Tibet in 1959. Since then this former administrative centre of the Brits has become a centre for the study of Buddhism and Tibetan culture. Refugees from Tibet continue to arrive in Dharamsala and the Tibetan Children Village (where I myself am sponsoring a 12 year old Tibetan girl) is filled with children that have been brought here by their parents, often crossing the Himalayas by foot, after which mom and/or dad often had to return to their homeland. This was also the place Judith would stay in until the end of the year, volunteering with Tibetan refugees.

We take a short break at a dhaba at half past nine. I ordered a coke. I'm normally not a coke drinker but it might help quieten my still slightly revolting intestines. Then we were back in the bus and suddenly everything goes dark! We've actually entered a tunnel and were hurling downhill in a tube at death defying speed! Several minutes later we're back in the sunlight.

This journey wasn't nearly as exciting as our three day journey through the Himalaya. Sure, the bright green valleys and hills and roaring rivers were beautiful, but there was hardly any real change of scenery. This made the trip rather boring and when we stopped at a dhaba at one o' clock for lunch and it took them more than half an hour to prepare fried rice I was bored out of my skull and almost happy to get back on the bus an hour later. I spent most of the afternoon on the bus dozing off and listening to music on the MP3 player.

At the end of the afternoon we pulled into Dharamsala but immediately started climbing the mountain towards McLeod Ganj, which is located more than 500 meter higher. The bus stopped at the Church of St. John in the Wilderness, an old but still operational Christian church remaining from the time that McLeod Ganj was a British hill station, surrounded by a churchyard where a lot of victims of the 1905 earthquake were buried. The bus had stopped because it wasn't able to navigate through the narrow streets of McLeod Ganj. We were picked up by mini busses and brought to the Anand Palace hotel. Another city another shite hotel. Once again our hotel was far beyond the town centre; we'd definitely need a taxi to and fro this place. What was worse, whereas we had a very most room with the bed sheets and cushion being drenched, some of our travel companions could actually grow mushrooms on their walls.

We decided to head into the city with the group and at half past 7 we took a couple of mini busses down to the Lonely Planet recommended McLlo, seemingly the best place in town. Atmosphere and food were okayish, certainly not the best I've had so far but I can imagine that for a place like McLeod Ganj they were indeed top of the notch.

Getting back to the hotel was a hoot. Kirsten, Paul, Judith and I got a taxi bus near McLlo but when we were driving uphill the bus completely broke down, to the extent that we actually got out to push it and were faster walking than sitting inside the bus. Completely ridiculous and hilarious at the same time. We continued uphill by foot and soon reached the hotel that had been the subject of many water-related jokes during the evening.

After having one final beer in the hotel restaurant we went back to our wet rooms and Judith and I decided that it would probably be more comfortable and healthy to sleep in our sleeping bags again. Anything that didn't feel damp would do.

Hello everyone,

Things are going very well here at the moment.  I'm preparing to leave for Amritsar for the weekend to see the Golden Temple.  Six of us have rented a taxi to drive us the five hour distance for a little over $100.00.  I'm excited because we will also be visiting the Pakistan border to see a flag ceremony that happens every night.  I'm not crazy enough to cross the border, but I'm excited to say I've seen Pakistan.  Well...sort of.  :-)

My placement is going well.  Two of the women I'm working with, Mena and Usha, invited me to have chai at their home a few days ago.  I gratefully accepted, but was taken back at their poverty.  When we meet with these women, they come to the Cross Cultural Solutions campus for teaching and we never see what their lives are like outside of the program.  To enter their homes was a humbling experience.  Usha's home is no larger than the size of my kitchen and there is a bed in the corner that she shares with her husband and three children.  The beds here are different than those back home.  They resemble something like a Novaform mattress topper, but are firmer and don't imprint when you lie in them.  They are all the size of twin beds, and many families will buy two of them, pushing them together for their entire family to sleep on.  It somewhat resembled the bed from Willy Wonka and the Chocolote Factory where Charlie's two sets of Grandparents shared one bed in the middle of the livingroom.  The rest of Usha's flat is surrounded by large trunks which contain clothing and other personal belongings.  There is a hole in the floor on one side of the room which they use for their toilet.  Their kitchen is really nothing more than a portable coleman stove which they use to cook their meals.  Usha offered me a chair to sit on, but there was only one available.  I felt bad sitting on it, but she insisted.  The chair was wicker, and only half of the threading remained intact.  I was basically sitting on a few strings tied to some wooden legs, but it was comfortable all the same.  Seeing this level of poverty is an indescribable experience.  The fact that these women are so kind and generous, in spite of their economic circumstances amazes me.  People back home couldn't imagine living this way, but there is something humbling and genuine about the people here.  Maybe it's because a majority of them are well below the poverty level and they have learned through their struggling to truly appreciate what it means to be alive. 

Everyone in India has been incredibly open and inviting.  The people here are amazing because they want to meet you and will invite you to have chai with them because it is their culture to be giving and offer to share what little they have with others.  This experience so far has helped me to appreciate how much I have, and has helped me to realize how little of my personal possessions I actually need.  I think so many people hold onto their possessions and they end up owning you.  The people here literally have nothing, and to see them share that with you is humbling.  I honestly can't explain how this trip has impacted me personally and I still have another week left before I return home.  I know that I will return to the U.S. filled with gratitude and accomplished in achieving my goal of helping these women in what little ways I can.

In other news, I'll admit to having come in contact with Delhi Belly.  It's an indescribable feeling when you have no control over you bodily fluids and you are tempted to drop trou' in the middle of the street to relieve yourself like the locals do.  You are lucky to find a toilet like the ones back home here.  The toilets we are used to are called "western style toilets" and are usually only found in hotels or nice restaurants.  Thankfully our flats are equipped with these, but if we are out in the market for too long and need to use the restroom, I've encountered several different types of restrooms in the area.  First, there are the wide open, behind a wall type toilets.  There are no doors for privacy and you walk into a room that may or may not have a roof attached.  You find an open hole...literally, a hole...and do your business.  My first encounter with this type of restroom, I decided I didn't have to go that bad and took a taxi back home to use the toilet in my flat.  The next type of restroom I've found is slightly more private.  You go into a small room with a hole in the ground and two grips on either side of the hole.  These grips are for your feet, and you basically squat and let 'er rip.  There is no toilet paper in these, so you're left to 'shake it off' in a sense.  I've become so accustomed to these types of toilets that they don't seem to bother me anymore.  With Delhi Belly, when you have to go, you have to go.

In any event, things are going well.  I'm going to head out now to grab some lunch before leaving for Amritsar for the weekend.  I'll check in when I have access to internet again, but it's been pretty sporadic around here and I have little time to spare with all of the placement and group activities they have us doing. 

Have a great weekend!

Christine

Greetings from India,

I have decided to dedicate this blog to the bucket shower, something I have come to know quite well over the past week and a half.  In India, there is often a water shortage, and in efforts to conserve this precious commodity, someone came up with an ingenious idea known as the bucket shower.  I don't know who to pay homage to for this marvelous invention, but I will explain the details of how this contraption works in the blog below.

Basically, you have a bucket.  Now, these buckets range in size from short and wide to tall and narrow.  They are big enough for you to stand in, but you don't want to do that.  First you take your bucket and fill it up with water.  Mind you, the water in India is not known to be the safest thing around, so it's often best to use filtered water for your hoo-ha area and any other crevaces that may expose you to contamination.  This concern has been thought of, and a small cup the size of a quart comes included with every bucket shower sale...no extra charge.   So, you fill this cup with filtered water for brushing teeth, face, and any other personal areas that may need looking after.  Once the bucket is full, you begin lathering up with soap and the water from your bucket.

Now, remember that I told you not to stand in your bucket.  Unfortunately for us westerners, India doesn't come equipped with bathtubs.  You basically stand in the middle of the bathroom and proceed to dump the water over your body by the bucket-load which then flows down the drain next to the toilet. 

Rinse.  Lather.  Repeat as needed.

Once soaked from head to toe, you grab the squeegy from the corner and clean the floor.  Otherwise, you will slip the second you take a step...literally...and the floor will take hours to dry in monsoon season.  Once clean, you can towel dry and pour any remaining water into the drain for disposal. 

Voila!  You've just taken a bucket shower.  It's not that bad, honestly.  I've managed to get pretty good at it actually, and I can get away with only filling up my bucket 1/4 of the way full.  I've devised an ingenious tactic of washing my hair first with my head upside down and recycling the water into the bucket to bathe the rest of my body with.  Personally, I think it's ingenious because I still get washed up, but I'm saving even more water than most people.

Anyway, hope you are all doing well and I'll chat with you soon.

Christine

I'm officially only a few hours away from leaving for India and I think I've pretty much covered everything I needed to do before leaving.  I've set all of my bills to auto-bill-pay and I've packed everything I think I'll need and more.  I practiced schlepping my backpack around the condo yesterday to get a feel for the weight and load.  I'm not planning on checking my luggage because I'm not bringing that much with me anyway. 

I really can't wait to get there, honestly.  I'm both nervous and excited.  I haven't slept very much the last few days because it's finally hitting me that I'm leaving.  I've been preparing for this trip for weeks and I feel like I'm still not prepared for what I'm about to do.  My program manager told me that we may have to shower in buckets, so that should be interesting.  All-in-all, I can't wait to get there, and despite what some of my co-workers think (Ian), I'm not going to get abducted by terrorists and I'm definitely not getting married. 

See you soon,

Christine

P.S. - If I come back to mulch chips all over my desk...you'd better be prepared for the wrath I'll be bringing back from the Himalayas.  Wilson.

MEDITATION: A lot of you (friends and family) have been asking me about my 10-day silent Buddhist meditation experience.  It's easier to explain in person, but let me try.... 

First, you should know that it was unimaginably unforgettable, amazing and priceless.  In a way, I feel as though I can come home now and that I've  gotten what I needed from my entire trip (and I still have 6 months ahead of me)!  It was far better and more valuable than what I thought it would be. 

I spent 10 days in silence at the Tushita Meditation Center in the forest above Dharamsala (home of the Dalai Lama).  I spent most of each day in a small Gompa (Buddhist Temple) sitting on old worn-out pillows listening to a fascinating monk teach us about Buddhist philosophy, practicing meditation and doing yoga.  In the evenings, I read, thought, and wrote a lot. 

Our geshe (monk-teacher) was mezmerizing.  He explained intricate Buddhist philosophy with simple clarity.  I actually looked forward to each 2-hour teaching.  Buddhist philosophy made so much sense to me that I was instantly able to relate specific teachings to my life.  This was the highlight.  And, it made for some very successful meditation experiences.

Meditation was interesting.  We alternated between:

1) "Analytical Meditation" (focusing on specific details about a question/topic/experience/person) and 

2) "Placement (or Mindful) Meditation" (focusing, or "placing" your focus solely on your breath while counting to four with each breath).  In doing so, each time you catch your mind wandering, you must STOP that thought immediately and focus again on counting your breath).  But after 30-40 minutes of Placement Meditation (focusing on your breath and counting to four), your mind slows down and doesn't "catch" your thoughts so quickly.  You tend to get deep into a thought before catching yourself.  Eventually you change from quickly catching initial thoughts about things like: the train ticket you need to buy,  the email you need to send, the childhood memory you have, or the girlfriend issue, the debt problem etc....  At a certain point, you don't catch yourself until you've actually had a pretty deep or clear thought about something.  But, when you DO catch yourself, you must STOP and again focus on your breath again.  So, in essence - the result from "stopping your thoughs" is actually a "more clear and deep thought".  Does that make sense?

In a long meditation session, I alternated between 'Analytical' and 'Placement' multiple times in order to have a solid and prolific meditation session.  We did this several times a day starting at 6am.

We had to keep silence for 10 days.  There was no talking.  But, actually - that was EASY!  The hardest part was sitting cross-legged (Lotus position for those who were flexible) for so many hours each day.  My legs fell asleep at least 2,500 times!  Aaah.  That was painful - but it is an important part of meditation.  The pain keeps you from being too comfortable/sleeping and (when you forgot you had pain) it reminds (each time you forget about the pain) that you were "in the zone" for a few minutes. 

We had no watches, iPods, Internet, cell phones, Treos etc....  They asked us to turn all that modern lifestyle gadget stuff in prior to starting the course.  It was not so difficult for me.  There was a gong that rang 10 minutes before each session each day to help us know where to be and when to arrive. 

There were monkeys everywhere in the trees to entertain us at dawn and dusk.  It was as if they were being paid to perform trapeze-like fun.  They were incredibley cute and funny - traversing the tree tops, pushing one another, dangling around and approaching us to chill. 

The food was simple and vegetarian (so I am healthy).  In fact, I haven't eaten meat, chicken or fish for over one month.  Being vegetarian in India is too simple.

So - in summation, this was my experience in an "ashram" in India.  For me, it was the ultimate balance between Buddhist philosophy and meditation.  The whole experience was very important for me - and a much needed place for me to be.  I am so happy that I decided to do it.  Ask me about it when I see you....!

As I wrap up the last few days until I leave, I'm getting excited!  I'll be volunteering with an organization called Cross Cultural Solutions and will be working on women's empowerment with a group of Tibetan women. The curriculum is pretty flexible, so I can have free reign with what I want to work on with them. I'm going to come with a few ideas in mind, but I'll have to assess their needs when I arrive. I don't know if these women are victims of domestic violence, or if they are just below the poverty level and need guidance in getting control of their lives. I'll find out when I get there, I'm sure, but it's going to be intense!

The area I'll be living in is in the Himalayas. I'll be in Dharamsala, which is the home of the exiled Tibetan refugees. These people have been living there for over 50 years since they fled Tibet due to the Chinese oppression of their homeland. Many of the people are Tibetans born in exile and have never set foot in their homeland. The historical significance at this moment is important because the Chinese are holding the Olympics in Beijing - an event that represents freedom - and the Chinese are still keeping Tibetans at gunpoint in many areas. The inhabitants of Tibet can't even have a photograph of their spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama, or they could be imprisoned. The Chinese are still suppressing Tibetan identity within Tibet and many of the inhabitants are forced to leave in order to live their lives in peace.

I am learning as much as I can about the community before I leave and gathering any material that I may find helpful on my trip.  I know that nothing can fully prepare me for the experience, but I'm taking a proactive approach and doing what I can to mentally prepare myself for this adventure.  I'll try and upload some photographs of the protests so you can visualize this a bit better.

Chat with you soon,

Christine

Preparing for India has been both exciting and challenging. I signed up for the program not knowing what to expect, and have since found myself engulfed in a culture I know little about.

Attempting to 'crash course' life in the Himalayas, I visited the Bellevue library and checked out every history book I could find. I'm teaching myself Hindi, which is much more difficult than I thought it would be as the only words I know are namaste (hello), alvida (goodbye), and dhanyavaad (thank you). As long as I can learn the phrases "where is the restroom" and "do you have hot water" before I leave, I should fit in just fine.

I still have a lot to learn, and my time is running out as I am only six weeks away from leaving. I hope to keep this blog updated in the weeks leading up to my trip, and will do my best to post journal entries and images from Dharamsala.

Namaste,

Christine

My decision was taken, I would come and live in India.
This Indian philosophy of life, whether it is called Sanatan Dharma, SIKH or Dharma, or by any other name is my first love. Other reasons ensue from it.
Nothing pleases more that to see that since the beginning of the 1990s, India had taken an upbeat turn in the economic field. Prime Minister Narasimha Rao and his Finance Minister Manmohan Singh will be remembered in history as those who dared to abandon the old Soviet path of a planned economy.
In India, I have always found remarkable the individuals' creative genius
(India) has been creating abundantly and incessantly, lavishly, with an inexhaustible many sidedness, republics and kingdoms and empires, philosophies and cosmogonies and sciences and creeds and arts and poems and all kinds of monuments, palaces and temples and public works, communities and societies and religious orders, laws and codes and rituals, physical sciences, psychic sciences, systems of Yoga, systems of politics and administration, arts spiritual, arts worldly, trades, industries, fine crafts, -- the list is endless.'
'In India, it is the Grace which sustains us.' This exchange has come back to my mind in innumerable circumstances. I think it is very true, this is the grace of god.

One more reason to love India!

And then....
1.Corruption
2. Lack of Discipline
3. Lack of cleanliness & personal hygiene
4. Rude Behavior and Hooliganism
5. Population Explosion
6. Lack of accountability
7. Lethargy
8. Complascency and Premature jubiliation
9. Preoccuapation with inanities
10.Pettiness and Narrowmindedness

So....I wake up at 6 a.m. in Agra, and we head to Delhi to get me to my noon flight to Amritsar.  With the roads and traffic in India, I'm quite worried till we head out.  The road between Agra and Delhi is the nicest in India, and the traffic was very light.  I unfortunately had some "Dheli Belly," making things a bit more exciting than they otherwise should have been.  As it was my last day with Virander, I flowed the dude 5000 rs.  (Over 100 dollars)  I felt I owed that much to him for the way he looked out for me the previous few weeks, and I wanted to give him a nice wedding present.  He was speechless. 

Anyhow, I made it to the Delhi airport in plenty of time, and soon flew off to Amritsar.  Amritsar is the capital of Punjab, and home to the Golden Temple which serves as the main temple of Sikhism.  I found a car and two drivers who were willing to take me up to Dharamsala, in the base of the Himalayas.  I was told the drive would take about 3-4 hours.  Remember though....I'm in India...nothing is that easy.  After trekking around to find an ATM that worked, we headed to the mountains.  We finally left Amritsar at about 3 noon.  After making our way through Punjab, we started the climb up the foothills of Himichal Pradesh.  Soon the moon was out, and I couldn't see much around me.  I could feel that the road was of piss-poor quality though, and I accidently caught sight of a mountain river flowing about 600 feet below our road with no guard rails.  It was one of those situations where you just put blinders on and hope for the best.  It also turned out that my drivers had no clue as to where we were headed, because they had to ask for directions every half hour or so.  Ten p.m. I make it to my cabin.  From 6 in the morning to ten at night...Who knew getting to the Himalayas would be so hard???

I made it to my room, and was actually pretty stoked.  After a full day of very stressful travel, a cozy cabin in the woods.  Hardwood floors, goose down comforters, a space heater, a t.v with cricket playing, and a giant Kingfisher Beer.  It was marvelous.  Also, after the dry, dusty, hot, and crowded Rajasthan, a cabin in the cold mountains was a welcome change.

I awoke the next morning, and was shown the path up the mountains to McKleondji.  McKleondji is the main part of town, and was a 30 minute walk up a mountain trail, or a ten minute tuk-tuk ride.  I opted for the walk, and set out on my way.  The road was rocky and slippery, but it was quite picturesque as well.  I passed a Tibetan Monastary on the way, with silent red robed monks also walking along the way.  I also caught my first glimpse of the Himalayas in the distance.  I at length made it up to the town, and was blown away.  McKleondji is also known as "Little Tibet," for this is where the Tibetan Government in exile has its seat.  The Dali Lama lives there, and gives audiences quite often.  As everything can't possibly go your way, I finally ran into a little bad luck, when I found that his Holiness was out of town.  No matter.  I really enjoyed myself.  I ate Tibetan food, I went to tea shops, I bought a cool hat made out of Yak hair, and I visited the Dali Lamas residence.

Dharamsala is over 80 percent Tibetan, so it feels as though you’re actually in a different country.  Laid back doesn’t quite describe the peoples attitudes there.  They are the most sanguine, and polite people I’ve ever met.  Here these people are living through their own modern day Diaspora, and yet they have the most upbeat attitudes.  It took a lot of work and time to come here, but I’m very happy that I did. 

The next day I awoke earlier than I normally do.  This was so I could take a longer hike than normal, and so I could shoot the Himalayas before the clouds rolled in.  I wasn’t disappointed.  I got some great shots off, and had a great hike.  I’m accustomed to the altitudes, and am actually exercising with the lower oxygen.  I went to Dal Lake, and the village at the top of the hill.  The village is a small place with only a few houses and stalls with terraced gardens hanging off the side of the mountains.  The Himalayan peaks rise over green hills making for a cool view.  I sat there shooting pictures, and simply enjoying the sights, when I saw a telescope.  An enterprising man had bought a telescope, and perched it on the side of the road.  It costs 10 rupees for a view, which works out to about 20 cents.  I wish I could have taken pictures of what he showed me: A little speck on one of the mountains turned out to be a Buddhist Temple, I saw terraced farms from across the valleys with little houses perched on the hilltops, and a giant eagles nests.

I then went in to McKleondgi and chilled out for the rest of the day, for later that night I had a bus to catch…a sleeper bus to Delhi.  A 12-hour sleeper bus to Delhi.  It was none too pleasant.  The bus to costs about 10 bucks.  I was hoping against hope, that the bus wouldn’t be too full.  In India, everything’s full, or they don’t take off.  Packed to capacity, and in the last row corner seat to top it off.  The man in front of me reclined his seat and it would bang my knee pretty hard on every bump in the road...There were lots of bumps.  My knee hurt pretty good for about a week after that.

In the end, I only spent two full days in Dharamsala.  It was well worth all the effort, and I would love to head back again.  Next time in India, I'm going to do a Himalaya specific trip, as it has different seasons from the rest of India.  Can't wait to go higher and higher into the mountains...