Today's topic: Trip to countryside!

Standing in the dark, cavernous space I refused to allow negative thoughts to impact my hopes for the show ahead.  Last night--not wanting to spend my snow day stuck in the house--I had impulsively bought a ticket to the 10 AM showing of ICE, an exhibit created by Chinese artisans. After spending Sunday afternoon digging my car out, I had left early to ensure an on-time arrival.  Carefully navigating my way through the still snowy neighborhood, I was grateful to make it to a main road that had been cleared by snowplows.  The drive went fairly smoothly, and even going below the speed limit, I arrived at the National Harbor with time to spare.  I parked and walked over to the ICE attraction.  However, once inside, I discovered that they were experiencing power issues.  So I waited with other visitors as the workers hunted out the problem.  The tone of the computers as they booted up was the first optimistic sign; I was the third person to pick up my tickets and pay for parking ($10 for the whole day since I was attending ICE!).  I then joined the actual line to get into the exhibit and we waited in the dimness, only a few lighted Christmas trees showing that some of the power was working.  A little after 10:00 we heard a burst of music swell and the lights turned on, a beginning that received a few cheers from the waiting visitors.
Because I was attending the first show of the day, I was in the first dozen to enter ICE which made viewing the amazing sculptures very easy!  Apparently, the crowds can get quite large later in the day since we passed right through a holding area, the lines marked out with ropes.  Before entering the actual exhibition though, we all had one very important stop: the parka station.  Here, we were each handed a long blue coat complete with hood.  I'm not sure how well the parkas fit the littlest guests such as the toddler with the bear hat in the family behind me.  Another visitor pointed out that we were all going to look alike but once inside the actual exhibit, we were all appreciative for the extra warmth.  In order to keep the ice sculptures pristine, we were entering a very chilly winter wonderland with a temperature of 9 degrees Farenheit.
I was absolutely astonished by the icy creations awaiting us.  The entrance reminded visitors where we were: the nation's capital.  Opaque white monuments surrounded a frozen blue entrance sign (ICE!).  Ducking under a holly archway decorated with shiny ornaments, I stepped into the first major scene.  Wildlife frolicked in a starry land.  A polar bear cub nuzzled its mother while a stag stood watch nearby.  His doe and fawn relaxed by a frozen lake hidden behind a bridge as graceful swans swam by.  In front of the bridge the tone turned whimsical with polar bears rolling on the ice and one fishing with a pole in paw.  The opposite side of the room moved from the wilderness to a Victorian living room.  Two young lovers puckered beneath the mistletoe while the family cat watched from its perch on a piano stool.  A nearby table held cookies (but no milk!) for Santa.  The green Christmas tree created contrast with the clear people and animals in the scene (in addition to the two lovers and the cat, there were two young children each holding a beloved toy and a dog on a cushion).  A grandfather clock, fireplace with red stockings, piano with sheet music, and a staircase furnished the room.  Green boughs with cheery red bows decorated the walls.  A sleigh pulled by a faithful steed (even with a Christmas wreath around his neck) provided a great photo op for families before heading into the next scene.
I paused at this pass-through since a film crew was set up just inside the entrance.  A friendly employee told us to just go on through though, so a little cautiously I stepped in for a closer look.  A group of penguins--done in blue rather than black to stand out better--greeted us, visitors to the North Pole.  They seemed to be dancing (perhaps to keep warm?  I was definitely beginning to notice the cold despite two pairs of gloves).  The path led to an igloo made of clear ice.  Inside three more penguins tippy-tapped to their own beat.  They were so cute with their big eyes, scarves, and stocking hats.
A tunnel covered in little white lights led to a large room.  I smiled when I entered; this was the slide room.  A wide staircase led upwards.  I paused to read the rules and hesitated at the line about "all loose articles must be left with a non-rider in the party."  I was a party of one, I had no non-riders.  I glanced towards one of the attendants and wondered if I could ask her to watch my purse for the thirty seconds it would take for me to climb to the top and slide down the icy tube.  Then I saw a mom get up from the bottom of the slide, her purse in her hands.  Reassured, I headed upwards to the shorter slide.  The attendant asked if I was only going on the short slide and I replied at first.  I carefully tucked my parka under my bottom and pushed forward.  I haven't gone down a slide lately but this was one of the smoothest rides ever!  I quickly bounced up and hurried to the top of the steps for a second run, this time from the higher slide.  Settling in again, I noticed the nametag of this attendant also stated "South Africa" as his origin.  Rushing down, I enjoyed the speed even with a slight bump into the right wall towards the bottom.  Following snowflakes formed by lights shining on the floor, I walked towards another passage, this one lined with colorful candy and stars.
Now I was in Santa's workshop.  Looking back towards the passage, I realized that I could see people preparing to go down the slide in the previous room.  The film crew was in this room again so I summoned the courage to ask their attendant what was being filmed.  I thought maybe it was promotional footage for the Gaylord Resort which sponsored the event.  To my surprise, the crew was actually a news crew for a Ukrainian station.  This interesting information continued as she told me that at 11 and Indonesian crew would be in the complex.  I looked around then.  Blue elves built gifts for children.  Toys appeared in triplicate, two formed from ice and one of regular materials.  A huge teddy bear filled a corner.  Santa himself stood tall next to some presents.
I stepped alone into the next room and was immediately grateful for the solitude.  Pairs of candelabars stood on either side of the room.  A stained glass window reflected onto the floor.  Another pair of candelabras flanked the main ice sculpture of the space, a beautiful angel.  Serenity reigned on her face, a hand reached out.  My joy at this true sign of Christmas only grew as I stepped around the corner.  A life-size Nativity stood before me.  On the right the Wise Men and a camel paid respect to the newborn King.  On the left the shepherds with their animals approached the Holy family.  Mary and Joseph serenly waited in the center, a manger holding the baby Jesus.  In all the craziness surrounding Christmas preparations, I loved how ICE provided the time to step back and think about the true reason for the celebration.  I lingered here for a few moments and then returned to warmth.
I put my parka on the return table and then spent several minutes perusing the gift shop at the exit.  My fingers were less than happy with me, and I had no desire to return to the cold quite yet.  While I liked looking at the ornaments and other items for sale, I had no desire to pay their prices.  Stepping back outside, I almost laughed when I realized that the air felt much warmer now that I had braved the cold of ICE although out here I now had wind to chill me.
I then tried to visit the Christmas displays in the Gaylord but an emergency alarm going off in the lobby made me head back out to explore the National Harbor.  Since it was before 11 and we had experienced two feet of snow over the weekend, a number of the stores were not yet open.  I browsed a little (the Peeps store was fun!) and peeked at the Awakening.  I would advise that giant to just stay under his heavy of blanket of snow for now.  The Christmas tree on the marina was huge and beautiful.  I slipped into Potbelly for lunch (the near freezing temperatures swayed me from Ben and Jerry's...).  It was definitely not crowded, no surprise really considering how few people I had seen in general.  My cheddar broccoli soup warmed me up nicely.  After lunch I carefully made my way back up the icy sidewalk to the Gaylord.
Through the revolving door and down the wide hallway, I found myself in the atrium.  The atrium is a huge space, stretching up at least ten stories, one whole wall and the ceiling all glass.  As I stood on the second level looking down on the floor, I was immediately struck by a feeling of a Christmas village surrounded by lush vegetation.  I took a few snapshots and then hurried down the escalator since I could hear music starting, the signal for the fountain show even though according to my cell phone we were still a minute or two off of the hour.  As the water splashed up in harmony with the seasonal music, I was reminded of the fountain shows I had seen in Disney world.  After the show, I wandered into the two shops set up in little houses that evoked a colonial style (one sold sleepwear, the other Americana memorabilia).  I also got my free cookie from the Java coffee shop (thanks to a coupon passed out at the end of ICE).  I paused to admire the hanging Christmas tree in the front of the atrium.  The glass tree was shaped from huge holly leaves, 108 leaves in total, 110 red berries adding contrasting color.  Taking over 2000 hours to create, the tree provided a focal point for holiday visitors to the atrium.  I also stopped by the little train exhibit and noticed the first of the large Peeps hidden around the atrium; this yellow bird was perched in the leafy arbor.
On my way out, I cut through registration and happened to glance up; another Peep hung here, upside down over my head.  I smiled, took a photo, and continued back to my car.

It was with some sadness that I part-disassembled my bike on the terrace of our hotel, ready for its journey to Delhi. For the bike geeks amongst you, I rode a 2006 Orange P7 hardtail - the slight chubbiness of which was offset by the comfort only old-school steel delivers. Tyres were Schwalbe Marathon XRs - again, heavy - but they suited me just fine - on the day I became separated from the group for an hour, the first theory as to my absence was a puncture. Cass, knowing what tyres I was using, simply said "nope, not going to happen" and he was right - I rode over what seemed like carpets of broken glass and metal fragments in India, blissfully unworried as to the consequences.

The hills had taken their toll though - back home, a full service would discover a completely trashed bottom bracket and rear hub, and the smallest ring on my chainset was missing more teeth than Shane McGowan. Descending from Sach Pass, the vibrations of a entire day spent flying down a mountain had worked a tight 10mm screw thread on my pump valve connector loose before discarding it trailside, whilst an expensive pair of Endura baggy cycling shorts went to India brand new only to end their life in India a fortnight later, having steadily disintegrated day by day, although they did look fabulous during their short, mayfly-like existence.

After relying on it completely for a fortnight, my bike and I were temporarily parting company here in the Himalayan foothills. With a spare 48 hours to fill with some thrills, Cass and Cara had graciously agreed to take it back to our Delihi hotel for me to collect when I returned, giving me the chance of flying solo to I was off to Amritsar.

Our crew had departed after a farewell meal the night before, eager to return to their respective corners of Spitl and Ladakh after a long absence from their families, so it was in an unfamiliar set of jeeps that we departed McLeod Ganj that afternoon after a fun morning lazing, exploring, shopping and trying to explain to our legs that no, we weren't going riding today (I'm not kidding - such a weird feeling!). Our destination was Pathankot in the Northern Punjab - the closest railway junction to this stretch of the Indian Himalaya. From there the group would catch a sleeper back to Delhi, Pahar Ganj and flights home, whilst I would head West into the darkness and Amritsar.

Saying goodbye to everyone in the car park of Pathankot's Chakki Bank station was a wrench - from here on I was back to being an adult - no more Cara at breakfast telling me what time i was leaving, where I was riding and what I would be having for lunch on the way; no more Cass checking my bike over and getting us out of camp on time - a fantastic bunch of people to have a fantastic adventure with.

Our final day's riding, and we awoke to yet another perfect sunny day to find that we'd camped on a path between villages, so I'm sure we provided plenty of entertainment for the locals as they went about their business. Our last day's riding was a high speed flat run to the turning for Dharamsala, then a final kick back uphill through the town to the settlement of McLeod Ganj above, home in exile of the Dalai Lama.

Once the road went vertical, for one final time I happily fell off the back of the peleton and settled into hill-crawling mode. It was going to school time and so several hundred children Namaste'd me as they passed in their smart uniform. The extent of the Tibetan community was immediately apparent by the appearance of those I passed. A shiny Landcruiser sped downhill, with sunglass-clad tourists in the back and I realised they were the first westerners I had seen since Rohtang pass, which was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away!

After the busy and scruffy town of Dharamsala the final stretch of road wound its way through a very British looking garrison camp, with cheerful guards eager to find out where we had ridden from. Unbelieveably, Cass, Katie, Jack, James and Mark had waited for me on the outskirts of town so we could celebrate the end of the ride together. Thanks guys - your patience won't be forgotten. Then, we happily wove our way through the streets to the hotel. The end - no more riding on this trip!!

Clean, showered and in fresh, non-biking clothes, a fine afternoon was spent exploring McLeod Ganj and, more importantly, downing my first beer for a fortnight!

May 11, 93

McLeod Ganj is a relatively new town in the foothills of the Himilayas.  It was created in the early 20th century by the British as a place to escape the summer heat. 

In 1959, 14th Dalai Lama came to India after the Chinese conquest of Tibet.  He was offered refuge in McLeod Ganj by the Indian government, and established a Tibetian 'government-in-exile.'  The town is now a primary destination for numerous Tibetian refuges, and is full of beautiful Buddhist temples, and Tibetian Monks.  The town is sometimes known as "Little Lhasa", after the Tibetan capital city, and has become an important tourist destination.

The most important Buddhist site in the town is Tsuglagkhang, the Dalai Lama's temple.

People!
 
Despite the kind requests I don't think my updates will be as long now!  Things become less daunting and so I will probably forget to write about some extraordinary things.  Despite that I did see a cow sat in a garage yesterday and I got slapped by a monkey.  How we adapt to new environments...
 
The India-Pakistan border was pure pantomime!  The closing of the border is a ceremony that lasts about 30 minutes.  Each group of guards from each side of the border stomps up to the gate as aggressively and as fast as possible (only after shouting into a microphone for as long as they can) and kicks their legs up high.  Lots of shouting.  This goes on for a bit before eventually they lower the flags and close the gate.  Each side has seating for the many fans that cheers the whole event.  There is probably some great footage on youtube if you're interested!  It was more of an experience having the two Indian guys on the way out near-begging me for the phone numbers of my English female friends and offering me the equivalent in return! "You like Indian women?"
 
After a few more days chilling out with the Sikhs in Amritsar, eating some temple food, reflecting on successfully leaving Kashmir with my life and chatting to a few more travellers I got a bus to Dharamsala.  Some of my fellow passengers were also travellers and things seemed to be getting better!  I arrived in the mountainous Dharamsala late in the evening and caught a taxi to McLeod Ganj.  McLeod Ganj is 10 km further upwards and is home to the Dalai Lama and is the headquarters of the Tibetan Government in exile.  It is quite different here.
 
The Dalai Lama was granted exile in India in 1959 and over 250,000 Tibetans have followed.  The people of Tibet face severe oppression from the Chinese government and the journey to India over the himalayas is very dangerous, many poeple losing their lives if not from being caught, then to the elements.  This town is predominantly Tibetan with a real community feel.  The Tibetan people are also very kind and compassionate. There are many volunteer projects going on; teaching English, computer skills, cleaning the town etc.    I volunteered as a 'Conversation Partner' the other day and quickly had a group and a room to assist a few refugees in developing their English.  Somehow the first word I managed to teach them, and write on the board, so of course they then got their note pads out, was 'contraception'.  Luckily I read that the Dalai Lama is in favour of this if the population increase of a society in problematic!  
 
On my second day here I walked with two people to the Vipassana meditation centre further up the mountain.  Here people go on Buddhist retreats for 10 days.  No talking, just meditation.  On the way, one of the many beautiful, rabbid, stray dogs joined us for the walk.  Along the wall sat about 5 little monkeys (the ones first spotted in Kashmir).  The dog made the mistake of stopping and staring.  A monkey jumped down and they began to fight.  I continued to walk on, ever the pacifist but through, what I can only presume was association, or fear, the monkey slapped me round the ankle and ran off!  India...
 
The number of monkey families spotted is increasing weekly; with a strong correlation to my fear levels!  Walking up the road, alone and a little lost I found myself but 12 feet from a beautiful silver haired, black faced... I want to say monkey, however 'Ape' probably conjures a more accurate image.  Beautiful, but to close to my height and too powerful.  He could destroyed me if he felt inclined!  The Tibetan gentlemen sat on the bench seemed to find the whole affair very amusing laughing their 300 year old wrinky heads off.
 
I met a guy the same day who was staying with a family another few kilometres up the mountain so I joined him to go and meet them.  A couple of days later I took the walk again and I have stayed here for 6 days.  The family is kept in check by Mama Jamna who looks after her son and his wife and the two boys, 2 years and 6 months old.  In the evenings we have been sitting around the fire eating Mama Jamna's awesome food.  I have been staying here for about £1.37 a night!  There are also others staying at the home; it was one of my favourite moments so far when an Indian guy staying there, after getting a splinter form the door told me, in his very stereotypical Indian accent "I have just been impregnated!"
 
The views from here are amazing.  These mountains are the edge of the Himalayas and the highest in view are topped with snow.  The weather is unpredictable, so although the surrounding is very natural, the foot of the mountain surrounded by a deep green pine forest, nothing much that is edible grows; if it did the monkeys would only eat it.  There is lots of wildlife though.  Crows peck at horses and most families have cows that moan constantly.  I fall asleep each night to the sound of stray dogs barking and one night I have had the pleasure of a monkey climbing my roof!  After a very heavy downpour the other night the valley here was full of white butterlfies.  Yesterday the storm was so severe the view from the window was nothing but grey and the darkness of a nearby tree.
 
People stay here for months, it is one of those places full of yoga teachers, meditation teachers, over-tanned people playing sitars who probably attended The Isle of White Festival in 1970 and ended up here on the Tuesday with no recollection of how.  Lots of dreadlocks, beards etc.  As a write I can hear a man imparting some wisdom to another guy who it seems is trying not to get ripped off on a jeep he rented.  "Money is like clouds; it comes and goes".  Last night I played at the Open Mic night.  There's nothing like a powercut cafe as the venue for cracking out some Pink Floyd on an Indian made 'Givson' guitar.
 
I am now officially an India statistic as one of the 30%-70% of backpckers that get traveller's diarrhoea in the first 2 weeks.  A local Tibetan directed me to a doctor who after hearing my symptoms, still insisted on inspecting my tongue before throwing antibiotics and rehydration sachets at me!  I saw it through with some good old water though.  Enough said on that.  Touch wood...
 
So it seems I have stumbled into another place that isn't really 'India'.  This is Mini-Tibet.  However I'm getting the feeling there are few common denominators throughout India!
 
Next, I take the 12 hour bus ride to Delhi before the 19 hour train journey to the desert city of Jaisalmer.  I hear it's hot...

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....!

It was a bumpy ride towards the end. When I stepped out of the bus at Dharamsala it was 5 o' clock and pretty cold and dark. I dawdled around a bit, found my way up to the main road and started looking for any boarding that might be open. It was terribly quiet and deserted, nothing was open. Meantime a taxi was going through and the driver asked me if I needed to go to McLeod-ganj. Apparently thats were most of the tourists stay and so more lodges/hotels are available, so I took the 7 km or so ride up the mountainside to McLeodganj. Found a guy who showed me a decent room too, so I crashed there till the morning was bright.

I asked a few shop owners if there was any organized tour for the place. Turns out though that most of the interesting places are walkable from McLeod ganj. So I did some window shopping, checking out all the Tibetan arty stuff and handicrafts, on my way to the Dalai Lama temple. Between two main streets, there is a Buddhist temple too, with a lot of Mani prayer wheels surrounding it on all four sides. The thing that is most striking about Dharamsala is doesn't feel much like India or Himachal Pradesh as such. There are so many tibetan people there, it kind of feels like another country. Even most of the stores and businesses there display Tibetan stuff, and there are signboards written in Tibetan everywhere. Just another place which impresses on you the sense of immense diversity that lies with India. And when you see the surrounding towns, you can notice how smoothly this difference blends with the surroundings, the diversity blending into the country as a whole!

Around noon I was looking through the Dalai Lama temple, admiring all the intricately and floridly beautiful statues, tapestries and wall paintings inside the temple rooms. Relaxed there for a while in the calm environment and rotated some Mani-prayer-wheels. On my way back to the main square in McLeod ganj I stopped for a quick lunch of steamed chicken-momos. Looked at most of the roadside shops for something worth taking that wouldn't be too bulky. The 'Thangka' paintings are excellent there, but quite expensive. Didn't wanna carry any such expensive thing in my haphazardly packed backpack.

Next I decided to walk to Bhagsunag water fall. It is a few kilometers from McLeodganj. There is the village of Bhagsunag on the way, and an old temple of Shiva is also there, right next to a public swimming pool for men. After the village there is a climb of few hundred feet to the fall itself. There are a lot of people usually chilling out around the fall, and downstream from it in the rocky stream. The sky was clear. I sat near the falls for a while, with my feet in the cold water and basking in the bright warm sun.

On the way back I had some iced tea and momos at a restaurant along the path from Bhagsunag to McLeod. This is a restaurant situated on the side of the mountain on the slope and a shaded open deck. The view from here is particularly nice, one can see all the way down to the valley and the surrounding mountains and most of Dharamsala. I reached McLeod's main square after a bit of shopping. It was going to get dark in maybe less than an hour, so I hurried toward Dal lake. I walked all the way to the lake, taking a brief look at the old cathedral on the way.

Dal lake is a small pond, which is holy. There is a temple next to the lake. Dal lake itself is nothing exceptional, a muddy colored almost oval ditch almost surrounded by a jungle but right next to another settlement and quite close to a military cantonment. One can do some paddle boating in the lake. Some people feed the fish in the lake, and you can see these big catfish coming up to the surface and opening wide mouths to eat, but hardly visible through the brown waters. I took a rickshaw back to town - they are quite expensive, compared to the majority of India.

After some rest, I set out to look for a good dinner place and a hangout for the night. I checked out a few restaurants, but either there were very few people or it was strictly an eat only place. Finally decided to have a drink, dinner at Carpe Diem restaurant. It seems to be a popular hangout for tourists there. Some US students group was having a birthday party. I sat on the terrace for dinner and a beer. Met some tourists there and talked for a while. Then sat playing cards with them till it was closing time. Welcome change from the rest of the trip, didn't get to socialize much at other places being alone.

-- Ashish Bhambhani

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...
 

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

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