india journal

Delhi and a Wedding

My second visit to Delhi has been much more comfortable. I am staying with an American friend, Mark, whom I met in Mussoorie. He is one of those amazingly generous people, who is quick to open his home to visitors. Right now he is actually in Sri Lanka for work, but has left me the keys to his home -- which is beautiful and spacious.

My visit has also been wonderful thanks to another friend and her family. Suzanne, who is Dutch married to an Indian, invited me for a family wedding. The family made me feel very welcome. This kept me happily occupied for three days. Thursday night was the ring ceremony at a lovely estate outside Delhi. This event reminded me very much of an American wedding reception. There was a dance floor and a DJ. Early in the evening most people were too shy to dance much, but later, after a couple of drinks, the floor was packed. Only the mix of music was different: a popular Hindi song being followed by Queen's "We Will Rock You."

Friday was the Mahendi (Sp?) celebration. This is an event for the women, who all have their hands painted with henna, and sit around singing and talking. Again I enjoyed being a Videshi, as I was encouraged to have my arm tattooed (Don't worry mom, it's not permanant). Saturday was the actual wedding. The whole bride's side (40+ people), including the household servants, piled into a bus and headed for the wedding site. The wedding was held outdoors in a beautiful garden. The actual ceremony took around one hour.

So, now I am exhausted, but happy. I feel much more confidant in Delhi, and am beginning to learn my way around. Tonight I take the night train to Amritsar.

Amritsar

I arrived Tuesday morning in Amritsar, which is in the North of Punjab, some 27km from the Pakistan border. Again I took a night train, but ended up with an uncomfortabe bed, so I didn't sleep well. When I did awaken, the train was already stopped in Amritsar. In a panic I grabbed my bags, put on my sandals and rushed from the train. Standing on the platform, I realized that all the change had fallen out of my pocket in the night, so I ran to retrieve it. Back on the platform again, I now realized that my water bottle was in my berth. Going back for the water, I also found the book I had been reading. In the end, I and all my belongings were safely in Amritsar.

From this point everything went smoothly. Jasdip's father, Mr. Harjit Singh is taking excellent care of me. He arranged a room in the very comfortable University Guest House. I grabbed an auto-rickshaw to the University. I had barely reached my room, when tea arrived to revive me. One could get used to this... Next, Harjit arrived at spent some time talking and helping me get oriented in the city.

I spent most of my first day at the Golden Temple, the holiest shrine of the Sikh faith. It is easily the most amazing man-made structure I've seen. It is not very large, but it is very beautiful. It sits in the middle of a large pool of water, in which people bathe. From a distance the gold is dazzling. Then after making your way through the crush of people, you get a close up view of the interior. Everywhere you look there is fine detail, colors, patterns, fescos and small mirrors. After visiting the temple, I went and at there at the Langar (free meal offered to all who come, regardless of faith).

Frustration at the Border

I'm frustrated, and decided that my journal has had nothing but good things so far, so I'll share something that didn't work out. Let me start by saying that I'm mostly frustrated with myself.

I decided to go to the border today. Every day before sunset there is a big ceremony, for which hundreds of people come. On each side of the border there are large viewing stands. The is an elaborate ceremony to take down the flags with outrageous costumes for the soldiers. People yell and cheer as the flags of both countries are lowered, carried to the border gate and then folded.

Well, I knew that shared taxis go from the Golden Temple around 3:30, so there I headed. I had met a man who distributes free pamphlets there, and I thought I'd ask his advice. "Sit, have tea...there's plenty of time he said." I knew I should say no, and go look for a taxi, but being the overly social, trusting person I am, I agreed. After the tea, which I gulped down, he took me to an auto-rickshaw driver whom he knew. At this point I doubted I would find a taxi, and decided to accept the high price offered.

The driver then passed me to his brother in another auto. The auto was so amazingly slow, and I think most of it's energy went into shaking and making noise. I watched taxis and other autos pass us. By the time we reached the border I had a headache and the ceremony was virtually over. I was very frustrated at having spent extra money to miss the ceremony. I found the driver and told him to find other passengers, and I gave him a portion of the money. In the end I went with him, but told him to take other passengers.

When I cooled off, I felt sorry for the poor driver. I wasn't mean to him, but I wasn't friendly either. He refused to take the remainder of the money, and I apologized.

Well, I still have time here, and perhaps I'll get to see the border yet.

The Golden Temple

I already talked some about the Golden Temple, but I feel the need to make a few more observations. It is the most alive place of worship I have ever seen. I have been to many cathedrals in Europe, and a mosque or two, and when services aren't going on, they are just impressive architecture. Service is going on 24 hours a day at the temple. It is also much more of a communal place. At any given time, hundreds of lay people are working to cook food, serve food, wash dishes, clean the sidewalks...their actions being worship. It is quite unlike the one-way, top-down approach of services in other large churches.

Eating in India

Jasdip asked me to write something about my gastronomic adventures here in India. When I first arrived I was extremely cautious. I was paranoid to eat something that would make me sick. My first venture away from hotel food was with the freshly prepared fried food one finds everywhere at small chaat shops. The somosas here are particularly good, and at about 7 cents each, I could eat myself sick on them. One day with a friend, I stopped at a chaat shop in Dehradun, and we ate our way through plates of somosas and pakoras.

My next step was to start eating at dhabas (small, simple road-side eateries). Before I left, Jasdip told me that these were his favorite place to eat. I have to agree. The food is simple, usually dal (lentils), sabzi (vegetables) and roti (flat bread). I have found the food in fancier restaurants much too rich. Here I started with Aloo Paratha (potato filled flat bread), piping hot off the griddle. I particularly like the dhabas here in Amritsar, because they all have tandoori ovens, and the roti are delicious.

Hands down the best food I've had here was home cooked food. I was invited to lunch by Punjabi friends in Mussoorie. The mother made 'makki ki roti' (thick corn flatbread) and mustard greens.

As I write this, I have arrived in Dharamsala, which is overrun with westerners. For this reason, many restaurants serve western food. I have avoided these for the most part, but did have some good lasagne last night, and I have been eyeing some quiche.

I have heard that most people who visit India have a great time, and lose lots of weight. So far, I've been gaining weight. Maybe I need to do some hiking to work off all this food.

McLeod Ganj

On Sunday I left Amritsar to come back up into the mountains to McLeod Ganj. Originally a British hill station, it is now the home-way-from-home of the Dalai Lama, and of a sizeable Tibetan community. The town is quite small, and full of western tourists and Budhist monks. It is interesting to look over and see a monk, in red robes, sitting and emailing at the computer next to you. I find the Tibetans very engaging and positive.

With some luck, I will get to attend a public audience with His Holiness.

My plan to come here was inspired by my college professor and mentor, Roscoe Hill, who will be bringing a group of students here at the end of November to teach English. On Monday I started teaching two small groups of Tibetans. Most of my students are monks. They very lighthearted and friendly.

Visitors can find classes here on just about any subject: Tibetan, Hindi, Budhism, yoga, meditation, massage, etc. The town is virtually buzzing with activity.

Food here is very diverse. There is excellent Tibetan food, of course. Dishes include several kinds of noodle soup, and my personal favorite: 'momos' (much like chinese pot-stickers). Due to the number of westerners, you can find Italian food, Israeli food, and good pastries.

A Day in McLeod Ganj

Thursday:
I awoke early this morning, as I have tended to do since arriving in McLeod Ganj. My room was very cold, so I stayed under the covers with my hot-water bottle. Finally I mustered the nerve to face the day, and went down to order a chai. I drank my tea on the rooftop terrace, which is warm and sunny, and provides a view of the valley and the Himalayan peaks beyond.

I went down for breakfast and met an American, newly arrived in India. Speaking with him, I was reminded of how disoriented I was upon my arrival.

After breakfast I stopped into the class which I will be teaching next week. Then I went to my first private lesson at 11:00. My student, Sunam, is a young monk from a monestary in Southern India, who is here to study English. I met him in his small room, and we talked for an hour. When we were done with our lesson, he offered to cook me lunch. He prepared spinach withlots of garlic and onion, which we ate with a type of tibetan bread (like a giant english muffin).

Right after lunch I went for a tibetan massage, which uses lots of scented oils. My back had been hurting, and this helped. I had some time after the massage, and wandered around town. At 5:00 I taught another private lesson to another monk. Then I stopped and bought a large red shawl, like the monks wear. It is getting quite cold here, and I still don't seem to have enough warm clothes.

At 7:00 I went to a meditation class, which I've been attending all week. The class is run by a young Tibetan man at one of the many language schools in town. I find it very relaxing.

I had dinner with my French friend Christine (whom I met in Mussoorie). We went to a tibetan restaurant and had noodles and momos. We shared a table with an Israeli man and a Tibetan woman. I like the diversity here...it reminds me of Berkeley.

Finally I returned to my hotel, grabbed a hot-water bottle, and headed to bed by 10:00.

Photography

When I first arrived in India, I was hesitant to ask people to let me take their picture. I didn't want to be the ugly tourist and treat them as objects. If I did decide to take a picture I would ask permission. Most often the response I get is very positive, and even enthusiastic. Older people, who look very serious, will brighten up when I ask. I am finding that it opens the way for many positive interactions.

I am also glad that I brought a digital camera. It allows me to show the picture to the people immediately. I am glad to be able to share that with them, since I won't be able to send prints to everybody I photograph.

Pretty much any group of kids will go crazy to get to be in a picture. "One snap!" they say. They will continue to say this until your camera is full. They will also climb over each other to get to see the picture on the camera. I have had some moments in crowds where I thought I'd be crushed by kids.

His Holiness The Dalai Lama

Last week His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama of Tibet returned from a trip to Japan. This brought the possibility of a public audience. So many people want to meet him, that a private audience is near impossible. The small community of foreign visitors was buzzing the prospect of meeting him.

On Friday, I went to the Tibetan Security office to find out if a date had been set fo the audience. I was told to come back on Monday, and then again on Tuesday. On my third visit, I found people queueing up to register, although not date had been fixed. On Wednesday we found out that the audience would be on Friday, on Thursday we found out that it would be at 8 AM.

On Friday morning I met some friends and we joined the flow of people walking to his residence near the temple. Hundreds of people gathered outside of the Dalai Lama's compound. We were searched once by the Tibetan security, and then given a brief patting down by the Indian police. Once through the gate, we found ourselves in a beautiful garden next to His Holiness' house. The crowd in the garden was very diverse: travellers from many countries, European Buddhist monks, Indians, newly arrived Tibetans, nuns from Taiwan.

As I stood chatting quietly, the crowd began to move. From where I stood I could see the Dalai Lama smiling as he greeted the first of the visitors. As people began to filter back down from their brief encounter, I noticed that they were much more quiet.

As I neared the front of the line, a monk placed a white scarf around my neck. I watched the people in front of me shake the Dalai Lama's hand and move on. Then, there I stood. I took his hand in both of mine. I think I had an unconscious belief that he would recognize that I was different from the other visitors, and say something. Of course, nothing like that happened. I looked into his smiling eyes, and there was a brief moment before he gently moved his hand to guide me on. Next, another monk gave out red threads, which are then worn around the neck.

Later that day, I discovered that I had lost the red thread. I was sad, since I wanted to keep it as a reminder of the meeting. Then it struck me, that it's rather silly to mourn the loss of a gift given to you by a Buddhist monk. Where was my detachment?

Triund

On Saturday, a group of six of us went for a trek up the mountain above McLeod to a scenic spot called Triund. It was a nine kilometer hike which brought us up from 1900 meters here in town up to 2800 meters. The group consisted of three German women, two Americans Raj and Lee. We met for breakfast early in the morning. It was quite cold still, and we were all bundled up. Luckily the day was sunny and warm by the time we started out from town.

After the first three kilometers we left the road, and started up a trail. About another 3 kilometers into the hike, we came to a tea stand called the "Half-Way Cafe." It was perched above the trail, and offered refreshment and a comfortable deck from which to enjoy the view.

We continued up the trail, and finally made it to the top of the ridge at around 2:00 P.M. Cresting our mountain, we were presented with a spectacular view of the high range of mountains beyond -- the mountains here are much more steep and craggy than those in the States. We also found a broad meadow, with soft mossy grass. We stripped off our shoes, and lay down to bask in the sun and enjoy the view. Despite being miles in distance and thousands of feet in altitude from the nearest road, there were several tea stalls and a small guest lodge here.

Lee and Raj spent the next hour debating whether or not to stay the night. In the end, they started back down the mountain with us. About five minutes down the trail, we met a friend of theirs who was going up to spend the night. This brought on another round of debate, and finally I was asked to flip a coin. It seemed obvious to me that they wanted to stay, so when the coin said they should go down, I lied and told them it said to stay. I then spent the next day worrying about them getting back okay. The next night they actually had to be rescued from the cold by some friends.

Ngawa's Kitchen

McLeod Ganj offers many opportunities to learn things. Last week I went to a Tibetan cooking class. The class is taught by a monk named Ngawa in his small home. The 'kitchen' is a table with burners on it wedged in the corner next to the bed. One sits on the bed, while he demonstrates.

I learned how to make "momos", which are small vegetable-stuffed dumplings much like pot-stickers. I also learned several recipes for Tibetan soup. I am amazed at how simple they are to make. I have added one to my cookbook. Please give it a try and let me know what you think. Thenthuk

Sonam

My roommate Sonam. He has lived in India for 15 years, and has been a monk since the age of 9. Usually he lives at a monastary Mysore in the South. He has come to Dharamsala to study English. On this day he invited me to his monastary to hear a ceremony which involved him chanting most of the day. I snapped a picture of him while he was on a break.

My Neighbors

My room is next to the Tibetan kindergarten. I wake to the sounds of their morning songs around 6:30 in the morning. Again in the afternoon I hear them I hear them singing: today "Old MacDonald" and "Are You Sleeping..." Around 4:00 there is a flood of kids in blue uniforms running everywhere.