Traveling India

Last Stop, Delhi, the City of Many Impressions

2009-08-22T05:41:00.000-07:00

Before beginning this last post, I want to apologize for the blurriness of so many of the photos. I hope your eyes did not go all squinchy as my camera does little justice to indoor and nighttime pictures. I know I need a better piece of equipment before embarking on the next journey. Thanks for your patience.

I'm back home now, but wanted to end my blog with impressions of Delhi, the last stop on the "londoninindia" train. Many tourists and locals I'd met along the way reported that Delhi was a place to be avoided.

I was there for three days and enjoyed the energy of the people. The neighborhood where my guest house was located is a small poverty stricken area called Puhad Ganj. Again, the sense of family and community was apparent in the local culture. However, there were so many Westerners there, that it resembled any town in the States!

As you can see, the streets in Puhad Ganj are shared by pedestrians, motorbikes, wagons, taxis, etc. This photo, taken outside of my guest house shows how busy the streets are even late at night. I was amazed at how late Indians stay awake at night and how early they wake up in the morning. Perhaps they don't need as much sleep as I do, but maybe the intense heat at this time of year (no A/C) makes everyone start their day in the earlier and cooler hours of the morning.

I arrived in Delhi via the train from Haridwar. August 14 is Krishna's birthday, so the town was getting ready for the celebration with lots of food, decorating of temples and fancy clothing for the Hindus and their gods.

Dhabas and food wagons were readying themselves for the crowds that would pile into and out of temples after night time puja ceremonies. These cooks are stocking up on chapatis outside of the restaurant where they work.

Temples were decorated with long garlands of marigolds and other colorful flowers to honor Krishna's birth. This storefront temple, where a very knowledgeable Indian lad taught me about the different stages in Krishna's life, was adorned with flowers well dressed statuary.

Krishna statues were displayed on the altar to represent the important stages of his life. Here he is shown as a baby swathed in a brocade dress, blankets and a crown. He lays in a cradle that stands on a table. A ribbon tied to the cradle allows devotees to rock him back and forth gently after saying their prayers. Hindus treat statues of their gods as if they are real, often dressing them for the day, undressing them at night and putting them to bed as we would a member of the family.

Here's Krishna as a teenager. Notice the monkey god, Hanuman, at the bottom left. Krishna is the hero of the Hindu's most important teaching text, the Bhagavad Gita, which instructs people about how to live a virtuous life. Hanuman is India's great monkey god and fights against evil forces. He is the god of acrobatics (!) and an author of Sanskrit (Hindu written language) grammar. Monkeys are adored all over India and are as respected in their climbing on roofs and treetops as cows are in their roaming of the streets and roads.

Cows; how I love the cows! They roam the streets, steps and hillsides. This curious fellow (or gal) was hoping for a little "puja" time in the storefront temple. No one seemed to mind that "Bessie" had stepped almost all the way into the temple and simply gave her room to stare and stand until she realized that her best option was to slowly back out of this narrow space!

August 15 is India's Independence Day. In 1947, India received independence from Britain. People celebrate with fireworks at night and kite flying during the day. People of all ages fly kites and try to cut each others' kites down with glass-coated strings (think; The Kite Runner). The last kite flying is something akin to the winner. This young lad was only one of several who proudly climbed fences, walls and buildings to retrieve kites cut down by the local boys and men.

Independence Day was hot, sticky and noisy (What else is new?). I found the RamaKrishna temple not far from my guest house and spent a few hours there in the quiet, fan-cooled and clean temple contemplating RamaKrishna. After meditating on his gentle face for a while, I thought he looked a lot like my Uncle Artie! I found four kites myself while exploring the temple grounds. I'll use some of them to decorate my classroom this year!

Crowds of people were out on the streets all day and night on Independence Day. Camel and horseback rides were offered in the evening. Pushkar, a small city southeast of Delhi, is one of the most popular places to see camels in this part of the country. I didn't make it there but hope to upon my return someday.

This woman wandered around the town hoping for money or food. I'd seen her almost daily but she never approached me. On my last day in Puhad Ganj, I met her early in the morning. Rather than give money, I offered to buy breakfast for her from the local "omlette" wagon.

For Rs15/- (that's about 20 cents), I ordered her a fried egg sandwich made from two eggs and two very western looking slices of white bread (those Indians do have our "toast" down pat). The meal included a cup of chai which she turned down. She carried her own bowl for offerings and the egg wagon man gently slid her sandwich into it. The piece of wood you see on the left was her cane and she carried her belongings in several plastic bags hanging from her arm. She spent much time scratching her head (what crawls there??), but looked like a real sweetheart. She thanked me over and over again. When I saw her later in the day, her bowl was emptied of the breakfast sandwich. I was glad I was able to offer some solace to her otherwise sad existence.

Here's a closeup of her face. Doesn't she look like she might have been somebody's grandma in another life?

The next photos are all about transportation and jobs. As said, many men work as porters, carrying supplies and equipment for others. Here are some unique ways that goods get carried from place to place without using much fuel.

I spent my last day in Delhi visiting the Red Fort. This was built by the Mughuls as a palace for the king at the time. As time and history unfolded, it was taken over by the Indians, then the British and finally again by the Indians after independence. The Fort's made of red sandstone and is a magnificent structure. I was impressed by the architecture of such a grand place. The arches, roof lines and columns are very artistically designed and a pleasant sight in the midst of a very crowded and commercial city.

And so, the journey ends for now. I hope to return to India someday, with a lot more knowledge about how to travel in this strange and beautiful country. From the cities to the countryside...

...on foot and by wheel...

... I simply had an amazing time and would do it again in a flash! Thanks for supporting my blog by reading entries and viewing the photos. Knowing you were out there, keeping up with my travels, made me a little less lonely from time to time. Namaste!

"Homeward Bound"

2009-08-14T23:53:00.002-07:00

"I'm sitting in the railway station, headed for my destination...." is the proper name of this post...

Once again, finding myself in the Haridwar train station, waiting for another late train to take me to Delhi, I am watching life unfold around me. India has a life of its own and it's beyond me to figure it out. Maybe that's the idea of visiting this strange and somehow wonderful land. Amidst the garbage, poo, wandering domestic animals who've taken on a more feral lifestyle and pollution is an underlying breath of fresh air. Talk to almost any Indian in a shop, taxi, on the street. The stiff upper lip gives way to a broad smile and friendly chat.

I'm both flummoxed and confused and I think it will take a long time to define my feelings and perceptions of this mysterious land and it's people. There'll be stories to tell for a long time, I'm sure.

People from all over India travel by rail. It's cheap but tiresome, and the experience allows people to meet people. Strangers who begin the journey together end up sharing newspapers, gossip and snacks along the way. Seat switching is common, too, as the window seatee notices the person next to them is looking ill from lack of fresh air and out of compassion or worry, offers to change seats.

These similarly dressed women are from Rajahstan. My only connection with them at the station was when one, after finishing a cup of chai, came up to me for "moneee, pleeze."

Red-coated porters, like ladybugs in summer, are everywhere. As you enter
the station, they are at your side, asking to carry luggage, etc. They have, apparently, very strong brains and skulls. I'm amazed at what Indians can carry above their shoulders. Perhaps it's from years of living with struggle and strife.

There are many fewer benches than people, so sitting on the platform is not unusual, as is sleeping on the platform. I do think many people use the train station as their homes. Sleeping, begging and using the rails or parked train cars as their toilets, it is the "perfect" home for those who have none.

Although this is so dark, perhaps you can see the mad rush that occurs when the train is loading. People do NOT know how to queue up (sp?) and it's generally a free for all.

Again, sorry for the dark image. This is an example of one couple's home on the station. As each train's worth of passengers gather, the woman (a woman's work is NEVER done!) sidles up to (usually foreign)passengers with her cup, looking for "moneeeee, pleeze." I offered a cookie from my package as I'd run out of change from giving it to the men who travel on scooter boards and other homeless creatures. She seemed a bit miffed, but begrudgingly held out her cup for me to drop in my pittance.

The actual ride to Delhi was lovely for most of the way. We passed fields and fields of sugar cane (shown below) and rice. The sugar cane is tied in bundles as it matures to keep it from flopping over and to make it easier to cut upon harvesting.

Here's what we're breathing along the way. This is the diesel smoke that comes from the locomotive. You can also catch this lovely view (and smell) while walking along the roads as it spews from buses and trucks. Healthy, eh? Indian women have taught me to carry a hankie everywhere to use as a mask for covering one's nose when in the general proximity of "bad smells."

Many families live in houses like these. They are constructed from plastic tarps, branches, garbage and other sturdy materials to keep out the rain and little else. They are built right on the ground so it's like camping all year round, except there's no blankets or pillows. Indians are very good at using their arms as pillows!

The saddest part of this is that these houses stand side by side with the high price hotels and big corporate buildings in Delhi. I asked my taxi driver if seeing this bothered him. He shrugged and replied that it did not. I think people either become immune to such disparities (sp?) or have lived with them for so long that they don't even notice them.

Time for a bath! The water comes from the mountains (or somewhere) and is piped into the cities. The problem (yet another) is that even in the mountains, due to the litter and refuse and detergents used for washing clothes, even this water is contaminated. However, it does wash away the sweat and serves to cool one down, if even for an hour.

Coming into Delhi, one gets to see the Yamuna River. It seems to be the "sigh of relief" point for weary travelers. Once it's spotted, people wake up and start getting their bags off the overhead racks, ready to leave the train in the same haphazard way they got on.

I will leave you with this last photo and the story behind it. There'd been an announcement about a platform train for an incoming train. Passengers are provided with a very efficient system of ramps and bridges to cross from one platform to another. However, in this photo, you can see the preferred method of changing platforms. Passengers, along with their bags, children, grandparents, etc., rush to the edge of the platform, jump onto the tracks and walk across the rails to the next platform! It's a strange land, indeed!

2009-08-14T23:53:00.001-07:00

Anand Prakesh Ashram, Rishikesh

2009-08-13T02:44:00.000-07:00

The Beatles sought out Rishikesh in the 60's to spend time with their yogi. I'm forty years late but figured it might be worth checking out this part of the country as well. Rishikesh itself is dirty, polluted and noisy, but there's a couple of towns outside of the city where life is more serene.

I headed up the mountain on a shared autorickshaw to Laxman Jhula, a small village along the River Ganges. Pleasantly surprised to find it looking a lot like McLeod Ganj with mountains, trees, etc, I settled in at an ashram for a few days of yoga, meditation and peace and quiet, something I've been long needing after the overexposure to dirt, dust, people, noise and bad smells.

A main road in Laxman Jhula where cars, buses, trucks and motorbikes zoom by all day long.

The ashram is a quiet and clean environment where yoga is practice twice and day (6:00 - 7:45 a.m. and 4:00 - 5:45 p.m.) and meditation is included in this daily ritural. The yoga here is based on breath and many similar postures to what I've already practiced, so I felt pretty much at home in either the basement or rooftop yoga rooms equipped with fans, music and sound bowls (brass bowls that are rubbed around their edges with pestle-like hammers to produce a ringing vibration).

Everyone eats together in the dining hall. We are given our own set of dishes when we arrive and are expected to bring them to meals. The food is healthy and the portions are huge. Seconds are always offered.

Rice, chapatis, beans of one sort or another and vegetables are always on the lunch and dinner menus.

Everyone waits until all are served by the kitchen staff before digging into the meal. Also, we pray together in a chanting voice before meals. The prayer is painted on the walls for beginners like me who don't know the words to this Hindu prayer for thanks.

After dinner, we're expected to wash our dishes at the communal sink. Dishes of soap and scrubbers are in the sink where we wash with cold water. Leftovers are saved in a pail for the cows that provide the milk for curd for some meals.

Two cows and one calf live outside of the ashram in this barn. They are some of the most well taken care of cows I've seen in India so far. The ashram is family owned and all take part in the care of the facility and its grounds.

I walk into town each day to check email and publish a post on the blog. This is a drain that is in the road that leads to the ashram. I'm glad I noticed it for the first time in the daytime. Apparently, there are no drain covers on the roads. Drivers have to skillfully steer around these open drains in order not to get a tire caught in one of the many found along the way.

This limeade stand is along the main road in Luxman Jhula (jhula means bridge). The three or four men who congregate here everyday do a lot of sleeping and not much selling, but I was taken by the lovely big water jug sitting on the ground. The dog in the photo doesn't belong to them (or anyone), but we invited him over for the picture. He was willing, probably hoping a food scrap was being offered for a reward!

I'll end with two photos of the River Ganges as seen from Laxman Jhula. The first, near the huge temple where streams of Hindus are constantly afoot across the bridge to visit the temple and pray is close to the town. One must walk down a series of steep and winding steps through many shops and stalls and beggars in order to get to the bridge.

The other is the more rural end of the river between Rishikesh and Laxamn Jhula. Here the wildness of the river is more apparent with huge rocks in the middle of this surprisingly wide waterway to make rafters' rides even more daring!

Alvida! (Goodbye, in Hindi!)

Haridwar, Another Holy City

2009-08-13T01:57:00.000-07:00

There's apparently no end to the holy cities in India. Each one holds its own special meaning for the Hindu people. Haridwar, located where the River Ganges flows from the mountains into the plains is a special spot for the Hindus. Many come here for the evening puja (prayer ceremony) and spend the entire day at the river waiting for the sun to set.

The city itself (small compared to our cities) is in deplorable shape. There's garbage everywhere (what else is new in India, I've come to understand), countless flies hovering over the open food at the stalls, over the cow dung in the road and on the people.

A water fountain/public faucet in the middle of town. Check out the piping feeding water to the faucet.
Of course there's cows, but you've got to love the way they own the roads, causing cars, trucks and other vehicles to screech to a halt when they refuse to get out of the way. No one would dare to hit them as they represent Krishna who was their caretaker in another life.

There's also a new smell to this city, one I can't quite identify. It's not garbage or open sewers as I've smelled in other cities, but something deeper. It was not one of my favorite places, that's for sure.

Interestingly enough, my perception changed (as it has many times here in India) after the nighttime puja ceremony. The lights from the temple along the River Ganges, the flaming torches lit and made to swing above the river by the priests and the lighted flower baskets floating down the river all seemed to make the awful presentation of Haridwar disappear. It took on more the aura of a fairyland. It's been interesting to me how my senses can defy my reasoning within a very short time.

The crowd gathers at the river's edge on concrete islands between the river and the canal built to provide a place for calmer water where the prayer ceremonies can take place.

As the ceremony begins, several men in blue uniforms "work the crowd" for offerings. They are adorned with necklaces and bracelets to attract attention. Their yelling riles up the crowd as you can see by the raised arms. They carry pads and pens which allow people who give alms to get a receipt for their donation. I wonder if they can use it as a tax deduction??

People can buy these leaf boats along the streets of the town or on the concrete islands. When evening falls and the ceremony begins, a small wick in the center of the fresh rose, marigold, etc. flower petals is lit and the boat is set afloat in the river. It's delightful to see these small lights moving down at great speed along with the current.

Along the canal, men set up tables where further offerings can be made to the small shrines erected on site. The fires are lit only after the puja ceremony is over but Hindus will toss money on the tables throughout the evening.

Another interesting tidbit is that when the ceremony begins, everyone must be seated somewhere. Men sell sheets of plastic from candy companies (complete with logos) for people to sit on. The tabletop shrine owners will also allow people to sit on the table providing you pay at least Rs20/- for "rent" of the space.

The priests stand in front of the temple waving torches of fire above the river. It's a very awe-inspiring sight to see when night falls. The nightly ceremony depends upon the time of sunset each night.

As you can see, the lights upon the river make for a startling attraction. I was glad to have the opportunity to see Haridwar at night. Although I would not return, I was pleasantly surprised by it's hidden beauty.

Stepping Back to McLeod Ganj

2009-08-11T22:18:00.000-07:00

Medical care in India is questionable. There are chemists on the streets in most towns where one can go and get medicine suggested by the chemist himself (never a woman) when you present your symptoms. I've done this for minor meds, like the electrolyte I'm presently drinking to alleviate the GI distress.

Most hospitals are below par. The buildings look run-down, there are no screens on the windows (surprising to me in this land of a billion flying insects) and the stories I've heard include lack of empathy, knowledge and a lax staff that is likely to overmedicate at times in order to protect themselves.

The Tibetan docs (in McL) are often overbooked. You have to get a number at the office at 9:00 a.m. and return at 11:00 and wait to be called. Their meds either work or don't. I'm not that adventurous.

However, one evening, while eating dinner with some friends, we heard the "caller," a car driven through town with someone making announcements thorugh a loudspeaker. The announcement was about a free med clinic being set up for two days in the temple for anyone needing med help. This seemed interesting enough and could be helpful for those Tibetans (of whom there are many) who don't have enough money to go to the docs.

The next day, while walking through the temple, I found the clinic. It had taken over the entire middle level of the temple with tables, chairs, volunteers and about 11 docs and nurses to help anyone who might come in.

The organization was sponsored by the Peace Corps and the docs, volunteers and supplies and equipment were from Taiwan. People needing med assistance came to the desks shown, filled out paperwork and waited (as is the name of the game anywhere in India) to be called. However, the waiting area was stocked with water and cookies.

One could get any ailment checked by the docs. This man is having his ears checked at a table where interpreters, volunteers and nurses stand ready to assist.

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This young Tibetan woman is receiving help filling out paperwork so she can see the doctor.

There was a pretty elaborate dental clinic. It seems like it was one of the busiest places. Many dental chairs were filled with people having their teeth checked, pulled, etc. Notice that the temple is open to the outside. Monkeys played in the trees while the docs worked their magic.

Take a look at the primitive looking dental tools used! It was pretty scary to see, let alone think of having any of these tools near MY mouth!

There was even a pharmacy for people that needed medicine. These volunteers manned the tables for two days, filling prescriptions for Tibetans who had seen the docs at the clinic.

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The president of the clinic was a dentist himself. He was a jolly man and insisted on having our picture taken together with his daughter who was working as a volunteer. The clinic was traveling through India for a couple of weeks, visiting ten sites where Tibetans were living, in order to set up these two day clinics.

Here is one of my Tibetan students from the grammar class in the afternoon. I met him at the clinic where he was seeking help for a "bad stomach." (It's a pretty common ailment here and most people attribute it to the changing weather at this monsoon time of year).

I'm happy to report that he was feeling better the next day. And, truth be told, so am I today! A happy ending for all!

Amritsar, the Holy Sikh City

2009-08-10T00:39:00.000-07:00

This one's for the kids. My blogs have been long, filled with facts and probably boring and hard to understand for the students I'll be working with this year. So, my little darlin's, this one's for you! Not much text, lots of pics. Hope you enjoy!

First, a little background; Amritsar is a one of the oldest cities in India. The Sikh (Seek) people, one of the Hindu sects, come to Amritsar to spend time at the Golden Temple. Here they can pray, eat, chant and bathe in the holy waters. It is the lifelong dream of all Sikhs to come to the Golden Temple at least once in their lifetimes.

Here is a picture of the Golden Temple in the daytime.

Many people come to the temple. Some of them can live here if they have no other place to live. This mother was feeding her newborn infant when I walked by and asked to take her picture.

These nice ladies are washing the dishes that people use for the meals they can eat here 24 hours a day. It is the belief of the Hindus that all people must be cared for whether they are family members or not. Notice the crazy electrical wiring.

These men are cleaning the large "Lake of Nectar" that surrounds the Golden Temple. Men and boys can dip their bodies in it to rid themselves of sin. Women are not allowed in the "Lake of Nectar."

Here are the men bathing in the "Lake of Nectar." No one thinks it unusual to see the men remove almost all their clothes and hop in the warm, cloudy water.

This many tiered overhang is above the doorway to the temple canteen. Thousands of people are fed a very good meal here every day. The canteen is open all day and all night for whoever might be hungry.

Most people eat sitting on woven mats on the floor in long aisles in the dining room (canteen). About fifty people sit on each of several woven floor mats facing each other in this huge room. Servers come along and ladle out beans and rice and hand out chapatis (a tortilla shaped bread). The rice was sweet, the beans were seasoned well and the chapatis were crisp and warm. These men and women had their own dining room along another corridor of the temple.

This old man sat next to me at lunch. He wanted to carry my dishes to the kitchen for washing after we ate, but I insisted on carrying his out of respect for his age.

There's nothing like a good cup of chai (tea) after a hearty meal. We're served from big aluminum containers like the coolers we use when camping.

Here is the plate rack. Before entering the canteen, each person is given a spoon from a pail, a plate from this rack and a small bowl. We drink chai from bowls also, but those are given when you leave the canteen and come back outside to drink your tea.

This nice man gave me a tour of the chapati kitchen. Sikh men wear turbans and must have their beards a certain length. If the beard is longer than allowed, they tie them up with a ladies' hair net! Many huge machines mix and flour and water, form the hockey puck shaped dough pieces, flatten the dough and then cook it two times so both sides are crisp and brown. There are no doors on the kitchen, so the flies are having a great time flying around, eating the scraps!

Shops like these are found close to the Golden Temple. People buy flowers, bags of rice and other offerings for Shiva, one of the most holy figures in the Hindu religion. There are many thousands of gods in this religion. Hindus choose one of the three or four most important gods to worship and then can pray to other lesser gods for more protection.

When visiting Amritsar, tourists will often travel the 25 km to Wagha, the border city between India and Pakistan to witness the nightly closing of the border. Soldiers guard the checkpoint very carefully. Visitors are only allowed to bring certain things to the border with them - cameras, passports and water (it's very hot). Here I am fooling around with the official but very friendly border police. Women are invited to dance to the Indian music blaring from the loudspeakers. Men are not allowed to dance during this nightly ceremony.

Thousands of people gather on both sides of the border. Indians and Pakistanis each cheer loudly for their country while soldiers dressed in fancy costumes march back and forth on their own side of the border. Eventually, the gates close and the flags come down from their poles at the crossing until the next morning. Each country has a gate for its own side of the border.

My camera does not take good pictures at night. However, I did want you to get an idea of the beauty of the Golden Temple when evening comes around. The lights and gold paint reflecting off the water make it a beautiful sight, indeed.

These men own the drum shop near the temple where I purchased a set of tablas for Evan. They are drums made of metal, wood and goatskin that are played in the temples during prayer ceremonies. The man in the background has a shop in Vancouver, Canada. He sends huge containers of drums to North America where Sikhs and other people can buy them. They cost about eight times as much in Canada as they do here in India.

I'll end here and say, "Ta ta!"

Chandigarh, the City of Two States

2009-08-09T01:45:00.000-07:00

Spending a couple of days in Chandigarh was enlightening, at best. Here I learned about the tight security of the Indian government (liken it to our security after 9/11), but the generosity of the people. I spent the night in a hotel located smack dab in the middle of a commercial district where electronic stores and a madcap bus stand were the main attractions.

The next morning, taking the guide book's advice about visiting some of the government buildings, I headed to the tourism office to get a special permit to visit the Capital Complex, three ordinary buildings in this sprawling city where the government of the states of Punjab and Harayana are administered. The tourism office was closed at 9:30, with only a tea drinker at the main desk. I was told to wait for five minutes and the official who'd give the permits would be right along. So like India, 20 minutes later, no one was around and the tea drinker disappeared into the belly of this enormous bus station.

Eventually, after a phone call from yet another tea drinker (there's lots of people in India who sit around "subbing in" for the workers. They direct and misdirect inquirers who might need assistance), the official showed up. A rather rotund man with a swarthy mustache, he admonished me for being impatient and reminded me that, as a guest in his country, I "should be appreciative for being here" and in not so many words, "shut my trap!" Of course, after that I did, for I really wanted the permit.

Taking an auto (rickshaw) to the complex proved short and breezy. However, after being dropped off at the point of no return, I walked in the blazing sun for at least one km past several officers with stern faces who directed me to the first building.

Five checkpoints later, each one requiring that I show my passport and get my bag ad body checked, I finally was escorted to the top of the legislative building. Waiting in one of the offices for clearance, I noted the over-stuffed worn files bound with fabric straps piled haphazardly on tables, stacked vertically in large filing cabinets, etc. The computers looked like the ones we used in the 80's and everything was covered with a layer of dust and old age. It was a sad place, indeed.

I was allowed to take pictures from the top floor of the legislative building looking out at the hazy skyline (the legislature is the tallest building in the city at 11 stories tall). I was not impressed with the view, but my guide, a bright young soldier, spoke English very well and answered all my questions knowledgably. Needless to say, when we returned to the ground floor for an exit security check, I recommended him for a promotion!

It was on my way to the next building in the Capital Complex that the fun began. I met the officers below on the way to the Secretariat Building (where the Assembly meets). Their stern faces gave way to smiles and lots of laughs as we exchanged information about jobs, salaries, cost of living, etc. They were typical of the "real" India for me!

After a phonecall, it was discovered that visitors were not allowed in or near the Secretariat Building on that day due to the Assembly being in session, so I wandered (another km) to the High Court. Traffic there is bumper to bumper. There are 30 million untried cases in India and the lawyers and judges are always busy. Parking is a problem, especially because there are few parking lots. So...if there's no place for your whole car to fit, just fit part of it... on the sidewalk!

This photo shows a couple of Sikh lawyers speaking to a client. Not sure if you can notice the paper tie the attorney on the right is wearing. All lawyers are required to wear these around their necks whether they are men or women. For every 20 lawyers I passed, about five were women.

In my walk through the High Court building, I met a notary. In these courts, oaths is taken outside of the courtroom and the officials who administer them are lined up in the hallway at small desks. The notary gave me a private, but short tour of the ground floor of the building, including the library (all the books are written in English) where studious young men and women were poring through law journals. He brought me to meet the President of the BAR Association in Chandigarh. We had a "spot of tea," but it was soon time to go, according to the notary who suggested, "Please drink up, madam, as you can see the president is a very busy man!" I quickly slurped and we left the poor man to his signing of a million papers.

Although the notary had to get back to work (it seems like Indians can make their own work schedules), he brought me to the courtroom of the Chief Justice. I was ushered into the Public Audience section and listened to a gentle but firm Sikh judge ask questions and make sensible decisions. Again, I was surprised to learn that only English is spoken in the courts.

The most attractive part of the complex is this monument, called the Open Hand Monument. It is solar powered and makes one full rotation every 24 hours. It is a symbol of justice and equality. Standing in an open field, surrounding pathways are used by walkers and bicycle riders.

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Here are a couple of photos from the High Court Museum, opened in 2007. The displays include some life-sized replicas of the actual courtroom and assembly conference rooms (how do you like the life sized models?). In each courtroom, there are tapestries hanging behind the judge. These, like the rest of the city, were designed by Le Courbusier, a French architect who's vision for Chandigarh was to design a city where streets ran in a grid design. No other city in India, at the time, was designed in this way. It made sense and made Chandigarh a city of distinction.

My last noteworthy stop of the day was a Rock Garden, a complete contrast to Le Corbusier's dream of a symmetrically designed city. Nek Chand had another dream about reusing waste materials in ways that might please the eye. He spent years building (the city supported his work with funding and a crew of 20) this delightful but rather endless garden of rock and other stone-like material. He created some magnificent sculptures and dream-like scapes for the mind's eye. I thought of our very creative Odyssey of the Mind teams while wandering through this labyrinth.

I'll end here with a sweet photo that sort of sums up the feeling of this fair land. Due to the heat, population and lack of space, everyone finds the place where they belong. Anyone need a haircut?

Oh, the Places I've Been

2009-08-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

Again, I am in an internet cafe where connections to my pictures are not easily navigable. I will try to send some photos, but cannot promise that this will actually happen. The internet cafe owner, another very savvy tech person, has helped me. It will now be up to me to see if I can follow directions and allow you to see the places I've been.

Above is the "Geyser," otherwise known as the water heater, found in most bathrooms. You flip on the switch and wait for 20 minutes to get minimally hot water. This morning's shower was cool at best but not cold, a welcome relief. I find myself judging the quality of my accomodations by the quantity and temperature of the hot water for washing!

The stained glass windows shown above are found in the one of the churches in Shimla. In the Christ Church, the windows are well known for the six panels denoting Love, Patience, Faith, Hope, Charity, etc. Other than the windows, that particular church is nondescript except for the cheerful yellow paint that livens up the otherwise plain concrete exterior walls. The Cathedral is reminiscent of British architecture, imposing and grandiose.

Here is a photo of the Christ Church in the evening. Services are held in both English and Hindi. There is a surprisingly large number of Christians among the Indian population in many cities and towns.

As the city of Shimla is built on several hillsides, vehicles are only able to travel on a few of the roads. Additionally, The Mall, shown above, is vehicle-free. These strong men, like so many others, are delivering propane tanks to someone's home or restaurant to be used as cooking fuel. Porters are found everywhere, hoping to earn a few rupees by transporting visitors' bags, merchants' goods, constructions supplies, etc. I suspect that these men are members of one of the lower castes here in segregated India. It's not an easy life for the porters, but they are VERY fit compared to some of the higher castes who's opulence is evident, especially around the waistline!

This is one of the many Hindu temples in Shimla where the ringing of bells calls the gods to the temple before a devotee enters. One must remove shoes before entering as well. Because of the monsoons, the temple walkways are often wet, muddy and slippery.

At Shimla's State Museum, examples of ancient art are exhibited in the small galleries. Rather primitive sculptures were originally carved from rock (3rd - 11th centuries) until artists began using wood. This material and their attention to detail allowed them to more elaborately carve their idols.

Miniature paintings are another special feature of the museum in Shimla. The artists must have used brushes with only one or two hairs on them to make some of the very fine lines found on these religious renditions of scripture.

The wall paintings were among my favorite pieces. They appear to be painted on plaster, lifted from the walls of Hindu temples around the country and transported here. They are quite primitive but have been well preserved for at least ten centuries. The paintings are set in the walls of the museum so they look almost as if they were created right here!

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Indians are famous for their metalwork. Most cities sell jewelry and silver and gold is abundant in many places. Here are some silver slippers made hundreds of years ago. They would be my favorite pair of shoes if they belonged to me!

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Kids go to school on Saturday for a half of the day. These high schoolers are out for "sport" time (P.E.) playing volleyball and hopscotch. Uniforms are required and look different for each set of grades (primary, middle and high school). During this hot and humid time of year, the heat must make the wearing of sweaters and long-sleeved shirts most unbearable. I'm sure they couldn't wait to get home and put on cooler clothing for the rest of the weekend.

The Viceregal Palace, also known as the Institute of Advanced Study, was at one time a British facility used by its government when India was a colony belonging to Great Britain. It was at this very table that India gained its independence from Britain, and the map for an independent India was drawn. At that signing, India was divided into two parts, India and Pakistan. Therein, the trouble between India and Pakistan began.

Today, renamed the Institute of Advanced Study, this majestic building is used by the highest scholars in the country for study. University professors, authors, and other learned men and women come here to read and study about their country's unusual history and the struggles that have long plagued the sub-continent.

Because it is the capital of the state of Himachal Pradesh, Shimla "enjoys" a very rigid military presence. Government soldiers are everywhere. However, they do not enforce many laws, and this lax government security seems to be true of India in general. Although, when I tried to take a photo of a military emblem at the bottom of a government building driveway, both the soldiers on guard at the compound as well as those driving by, furiously waved me away with shouts of, "No photo, no photo!" Needless to say, I scooted away pretty quickly and found other less compromising scenes to shoot with my camera.

I left Shimla (my reason for being in this shopping-mad town in the first place) on the "Toy Train," a diesel-locomotive drawn small train that navigates the hills and valleys from Shimla to Chandigarh (located in the plains of the states of Punjab and Harayana). The train was a delightful respite from bus travel and the views were outstanding. The train moves slowly enough for passengers to "hang out" of the windows and doors as it winds it way from mountains to plains.

The conductors have a "fail-safe" method of avoiding accidents along the way. The metal ring shown below is tossed from the trains at different points along the way to signal that the train has already passed that station (there is only one track for trains traveling either way). Some station stops were quite long while we waited for the oncoming train to pass by. The pails hanging from a rack behind the station agent are filled with sand. The sand is used in the event of fire along the tracks or on the trains.

As I said, the view from the train is magnificent. The hard part is catching the photo before the train slips behind some tall bushes and trees. As we descended from the hills, the number of cultivated fields increased. Fruit, like apples, mangoes, pears, bananas, etc. and vegetables, like white radishes, spinach, carrots, etc. are found in the fields. Rice is also an important cash crop.

The train winds its way through the trees, passing small homes and cattle trails along the way. One gets used to the twists and turns and looks forward to the over 100 tunnels that the train passes through on its way to Kulka. When in the tunnels, it's not unusual to hear the shouts of young and old passengers who are having some fun while passing the time on this five to six hour journey.

Time to say so long for now. It'll be interesting to see how this post turns out. I've been decreasing the size of the photos (due to a 2/Rs fee per MG), so this is my new tech lesson for today. Have a good day. Next post, my adventures in Chandigarh!

Tibetan Students Fight Pollution

2009-08-06T04:38:00.000-07:00

The article below was published last week in The Tibet Post, an online newspaper for Tibetans, Chinese, etc. I'm so excited to see the results of my interview with the editor and the efforts of the students who composed the letter. Hope you enjoy the reading. Other pressing headlines from Tibet and about Tibetans are noted below this article.

Susan

Volunteer Tibet students use English skills to fight local pollution

Wednesday, 29 July 2009 15:55 Ms Amy Elmgren and Yangjam, The Tibet Post International

Dharamshala: After years of life in exile, a group of young Tibetan refugees are learning about their power to change their environment here in India-literally. On July 29th, 20 students from Volunteer Tibet's English conversation class authored a petition to the local Tibetan government highlighting the deplorable pollution McLeod Ganj faces and offering a number of solutions to the problem.

The letter details the inadequate waste management and rampant pollution that plagues Mcleod, detracting from this Himalayan hill station's unique charm and threatening the health of its residents. The students explain that tourists, shopkeepers and restaurant owners, and local residents who litter in the streets of Mcleod all contribute to the accumulation of rubbish, which is then spread around by stray animals, and ultimately ends up polluting the town's water supply and making people sick. The result, the students write, is that, "Our beautiful town and the surrounding mountains have become untidy, unhealthy, and ugly."

In a call for action on the behalf of the local Tibetan government authorities and the Mcleod Ganj community, the students offer three potential solutions to improve Mcleod Ganj's waste management and clear the streets of rubbish. Their first item is to provide more dustbins near the bus stations, temple, and town center, "so that tourists and local residents can put their rubbish in them instead of on the road." Next, they suggest that local authorities implement a fine for littering, and use the money collected from this fine to teach about waste management in local schools and monasteries. Lastly, they propose a boycott of local shops and restaurants whose owners consistently empty their garbage onto the streets.

Susan London, an American volunteer who teaches the conversation class that produced this petition, was at first hesitant to raise the subject of environmental issues with her Tibetan students. She states, "I was skeptical about bringing it up to my students...I thought maybe it was not a concern for them." But to her surprise, on the first night she discussed the topic with her class of 25 students, "every one of them-100 percent-said that the situation with garbage and litter in the roads is a big concern to them." She explains that the students are disturbed about the litter in Mcleod Ganj because, "it affects the environment, this beautiful place that reminds them of their home in Tibet, but does not look like their home because of the garbage."

After discussing their own views on the issue and possible solutions to the waste problem, the class invited a speaker named Ms Tenzin Choedon from the environmental department of the Tibetan Settlement Office. They discussed with her their ideas about how to resolve the pollution in Mcleod, and Choedon suggested that they express these concerns and proposals in a formal letter.

"So, as a group, we decided to compose a letter expressing our feelings that would be sent to her office, but would be forwarded to the Indian Municipality," continues London. She emphasizes that his letter's publication presented a two-fold opportunity for the Tibetan English students: academically, it was an opportunity for them to learn the proper form for a business letter, "where they are explaining their purpose, stating facts, explaining the consequences, and they are also offering solutions, and then thanking the people that they are writing to for considering this an important issue." But at the same time, the purpose of this letter went deeper than acquiring practical English skills. "On another level, an emotional level," London states, "I wanted the Tibetan students to understand that even though they are living out of their country...collectively, as a group, they have a voice and can express their opinions, and hopefully make changes in the community to things they see as problems."

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Catching Up

2009-08-05T05:13:00.000-07:00

I've covered a lot of ground since leaving McLeod Ganj and feel like I'm titling my posts ahead of my thoughts and photos shared. This time, while waiting for the 10:30 p.m. train to Haridwar, the town where the River Ganges emerges from the mountains to the plains, I'll try to catch up a bit on where I've been and what I've seen along the way.

I spent a weekend in Shimla, the capital city of Himachal Pradesh. It's a city built along the steep sides of five foothills of the Himalayas. Everywhere one goes is either up or down steep and winding switchback paths. Cars and other vehicles can only navigate so far and after that, you're on your own two feet. Accompanied by troops of monkeys, it's rather daunting to be trekking home at half past ten at night, hoping you're on the right road and that the creatures are sound asleep.

Morning sounds in Shimla include: many dogs snarling and fighting in the streets below (everything is down from where my hotel was located), water being poured over terraces after morning bucket baths, a troop of monkeys scrambling, running and screaming their way across the corrugated hotel rooftop as they jump to nearby trees for breakfast among the branches, the clearing of a thousand throats accompanied by spitting to clear one's lungs of the polluted air collected from dirty air breathed in on the previous day, a dozen construction workers dressed in sandals and no hardhats hanging off of bamboo scaffolding at 7 a.m. welding the next section of rebar to be used on the next floor of the next building being constructed next to your hotel, the shouting of families of beggar children who are not in school where they really belong...

My hotel, the Woodland, was at the top of the town, a mere ten minute walk from The Mall, a pedestrian-only two kilometer road where Indians from the warm southern states come to cool off and buy western style clothing. Jordache, Nike, Adidas, etc. shops are in no short supply. The steets teem with people all day on Saturday (shops are closed on Sundays). Families are looking for bargains and tasty food from "make it on the spot" Indian dhabas. Everything from milk tea to baked goods to momo's (a dumpling filled with either meat or veggies) can be bought fresh from street vendors for a mere pittance.

Shimla was founded during India's colonization by Britain. It was noted as a lovely,temperate place for the Brits to escape to in the heat of the summer. The guards/security on The Mall are still uniformed as they would have been during the imperialist period under British rule. Please see the photo above to view the police today dressed as they would have been as far back as 60 years ago.

I will sign off for now as the very "chic" Shikh owned cybernet cafe I am working from will not allow me to cut and paste photos where I want them in this post. I will try another cafe in this complex of electronic stores in the city of Amristar, home of the Golden Temple, the most holy place in India for the Shikh people. I have many photos to share, but I might have to wait for my arrival in Haridwar in order to post them.

I have developed a love-hate relationship with this vast and complex country. There are many hilarious and frustrating (to this Westerner) stories to share. Traveling tends to be confusing, but people tend to be generous, and humor is high on the list of survival skills for locals and foreigners alike. I've met some lovely people along the way. It's been a long and strange trip but I don't think I'd change a thing. Love to all of you and I hope to post again soon where the connections and computers are in the 21st century!

Shimla and Points South

2009-08-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

I finished my teaching last week. It was hard saying goodbye to my students on all levels. We had a good relationship (I'm thinking about teaching adults again someday). Although I was only there for a month, they made good progress in their English. They were sad to see me go and offered me many kartas (white scarves used for blessings) on my last days with them.

My conversation class took on an environmental project based on one day's topic of conversation. I'd been reluctant to bring up the trash and litter problem in McL, thinking they didn't notice it. We spent a day talking about it and sure enough, everyone said it was a HUGE problem for them personally. They talked about the impact on environment, animals, people and general health.

From that talk, I arranged to have someone from the Environment Section of the TSO (Tibetan Settlement Office) come to class and give a talk about Waste Management. The students, at her urging (and mine, you know how I can be), decided to write a letter to the TSO and Indian Municipality, explaining their postition, its impact and their very viable solutions.

This was a group project with a double objective for me. On an academic level, the letter was good instruction in writing a business letter. On another level, it gave these folks who've been exiled from their homes for many years and are living in a country not their own, a chance to realize that they still a voice and it's okay for them to express themselves (The Chinese government has tried to squash any self-expression Tibetans might have had in the name of a "Cultural Revolution.")

I then went sleuthing around McL for a few places that might be interested in publishing the letter. The Tibet Post (I included the website in my last post), an online newspaper, was interested and interviewed me for a feature article that was supposed to be published in last Wednesday's edition. Another local magazine, Contact, was also willing to publish the letter in their September issue. The TSO is going to publish a response to our letter also. I'm pleased to know that the students have made an impact in the community at large.

They were amazed to realize that they had the power to do so, I think. Everyone received a copy of the letter for their CV's. It was lovely to see them so involved and excited. Generally, there can be a demeanor of sadness and depression for many of them in this day-to-day existence without family around. I was glad to have an opportunity to change that for them, if even for a little while.

Please check out the website and look for our article under Features/Science and Environment. I haven't had a chance to do so yet, but hope to get to it tonight. I'm proud of them and miss them dearly.

This photo is the day Tenzin Choedin came in to speak about Waste Management.

Lobsang making a point about the trash and litter problem in McLeod Ganj and the personal responsibility each person must take to alleviate the problem.

The class taking notes during Tenzin's talk. Note the condition of the classroom. At best, it's a place to get out of the monsoon rain, but there's little else to worth mentioning.

Everyone's pretty serious about the problem of waste in town. Most of the Tibetans live in Amdo Village, a small community at the edge of town. There is a bridge that has been used for years as an illegal dump site. It's ghastly, as you can see from the photo below. Partly as a result of our letter, a "dustbin" (dumpster) will be placed near the bridge to alleviate this situation.

This photo shows about half of the conversation class that created the letter to the TSO. On any given day, due to weather, illness, monastery duties, etc., students may not show up. On other days, the room is too small for everyone to fit.
A small barn and its occupants in Amdo village. Most of the cows roam free, however, this one seems to be well housed while his feathered friends outside are free to roam the yard.
The day I left McL was a sad for me, indeed. As the morning light came into the sky, I'm waiting at the bus stand for the bus to Mandi to come along. Taxi drivers are waiting for the buses to arrive so they can vie for passengers needing rides to hotels and guesthouses. I'm standing there amidst the gloom (both inside and out) and suddenly I see the head lama at the Gyuto Monastery where I taught the monks each evening. He was just out "wandering," as he explained. He stood patiently with me, not talking, just standing, until my bus came. His presence was very calming for me in these last minutes in a place I'd grown to love in my short stay there.

The only other people around, besides the taxi drivers at that early morning hour were these sad men sleeping in the bus station. One was sleeping in a sitting position on the bench as well. Sad, but true, there are many homeless people in India.

I went from McLeod Ganj to Mandi, a town south by five hours (the bus trip actually took seven, but who's counting??). This photo is the Mandi bus station, a wild chaotic place with buses and people all vying for places in the narrow stip of uneven ground that serves as the loading and unloading area.

A dhaba along the way. This is like a service area along the highway, except there are no highways here and there's no fuel stops during the trip, either. Using the "toilet" costs Rs 2/- and you can buy food and snacks, too.
These lovely ladies are waiting for another bus as we pass. We did not stop for them, but they smiled and waved anyway. People are friendly here, once they understand your "foreignness." Everyone likes to laugh, especially at my lack of understanding, but then go out of their way to help me.

Time to sign off for now. Will write more in the next few days. I'm heading to Chandigarh, in Punjab, where the heat will be on. Hopefully, there won't be as many hills to climb. I'm looking forward to some level walking for a change. Ta ta for now!

Moving On

2009-07-31T08:12:00.000-07:00

New town, new internet cafe. At this one, in the hill station of Shimla, the keyboard actually resembles one we might see in the States, no sticky keys, a rather quick connection, no need to constantly refresh the language option to English. However, your blogger is still challenged with parts of this technology and at this cybercafe, it's a challenge to edit the last post and remove the double of the Tibetan woman sweeping the walk. When I figure that one out, I will switch photos; until then, I wish to catch up on the last of Norbulingka and my stay at McLeod Ganj.

My Norbulingka visit was coupled with a visit to the Gyuto Monastery (the larger monastery as the one I teach at in McL). I was there to see Karmapa, a young lama who, along with HH the Dalai Lama, is known world-wide as a great leader. However, Karmapa was "out of town" when I arrived. Nonetheless, the monastery was delightful. I happened to be there when the monks were chanting. The energy in the temple was definitely ethereal and was a good chance for some quiet meditation and reflection on the part of the sentient beings like me, who happened to be there at the time.

Monasteries, as spiritual as they may be, are also part of the day to day routine in the life of Buddhists. These Indian taxicab drivers, waiting for a paying customer, are playing cards outside of the monastery as I pass. They were kind enough to allow me to take their picture and delighted in seeing themselves on camera.

Here is a closeup of the temple. Pictures are not allowed to be taken inside, but one can feel the presence of peace and love even from the outside. Unlike the small, very old and run-down Gyuto Monastery in McL where I teach, this one is very modern, clean and well kept. The monks at "my" monastery are out "doing puja" all day long to earn money for the larger monastery. This means they spend time with families, saying prayers for long life, health and safety. As you can see, they must do a good job with puja, as this monastery is just gorgeous.

After visiting Gyuto, I returned to Norbulingka. Here are a couple of shots of the Thanka painting studio. The artists here also work quietly, while plugged into their mobiles. There's a definite hush to the room, even when they are working together, poring over a book looking for ideas for the background setting of a painting.

The paints are made of ground rocks and leaves, so they are natural. It is important for each part of the thanka to be part of the universal energy. Most of the artists sit on the floor to work, thus the small easels as seen above.

In this shot, taken along the way back to Norbulingka, there's a huge ox sleeping in a mud puddle at the bottom right. I couldn't figure out why his back was wet until I got closer and saw his clever idea for keeping cool on this very hot day. Using his tail to swish water on his back, he knew to "lay low" and hang out in the shade of his owner's house as well.

On the way back to the institute, I couldn't help but snap a picture of clothes drying on railing. During the monsoon, some folks have to hang clothes out for a week waiting for them to dry. It makes for a VERY boring and sometimes slightly smelly wardrobe.

In the Norbulingka temple, one can take pictures. Here is one of the murals painted on the wall behind the Buddha statuary. Each intricate painting tells a story from the scriptures of Buddha, not unlike what one might see in a stained glass painting in a church. However, the paintings are very detailed. Some parts of each image can be merely centimeters. The effect is breathtaking. With my attention to detail, it takes me a very long time to feel like I've even gotten a brief look at the entire wall. Different murals adorn each wall, so there's a lot to learn.

Back to the Dalai Lama temple on Sunday of that week, I spent a few hours there. Many visitors as well as local people go there each day to pray, circummabulate (the Tibetan spelling; is that correct?), which means to walk around the inner temple three to five times, saying prayers along the way, offer prayers, food, money and kartas (scarves offered in blessing) to the Buddha and other deities. The temple, unlike the rest of town is cleaned regularly. Here's a picture of a man sweeping, as happens several times a day. Notice the broom. It is made of dried rice sheaves.

Here's a shot of local folks and monks circummabulating. Prayer beads are usually worn by all Buddhists, either as a bracelet or tied to one's clothing. Many women come daily to do this prayer walk. The sign in the temple (the upper floor is where this takes place, among the swinging monkeys) directs people as to the direction in which to walk. Generally speaking, walking meditations take place in a clockwise direction.

All's well that ends well. This blog is about two weeks behind. Much has happened since Norbulingka, but I did want to finish up with information about this fabulous place. I did have a minor meltdown (ask my sons) leaving McLeod Ganj and thought of "throwing in the towel" and coming home, baby that I can be. McLeod Ganj, with its very gentle Buddhist influence is almost like a cocoon for India novices like me. Going out into "India proper" was a bit of a shock, but I'm recovering now and looking forward to filling you in on the end of my teaching and my travels after that.

If you have the inclination, please check out this website: www.thetibetpost.com for a feature article under science and environment about my conversation class and the fabulous letter they composed to the TSO (Tibetan Settlement Office) and Indian Municipality about the litter problem in McL! Tibetans may be in exile, but they still have a voice!

I've kept the internet guy (who plays the best music I've heard in a long time) up long enough, so I'll sign off for now and say, "Ta ta!" ("Goodnight" in Hindi).

Norbulinkga Part II

2009-07-28T00:04:00.000-07:00

Continuing at Norbulinkga, here are a couple of photos of the Japanese style stonework on the walls, steps and walkways. As rock is the building material of choice because of it's abundance, it is used everywhere.

This Tibetan woman works to keep the paths clean from leaf and flower debris. She earns her living as a caretaker at the institute and was pleased yet shy about allowing me to take her photo.

My 1:00 p.m. class is starting soon, so I will sign off for now and hopefully, if the gods be with us, be able to post again later. Due to non-stop rain, it is often difficult to get or keep connections. De mo she (goodbye!).

Pictures of Norbulingka

2009-07-27T01:53:00.000-07:00

Here are the Norbulingka Institute photos that I thought were lost in cyberspace. I brought the "shortcut" CD to a genius computer teacher in McLeod Ganj. Nyimon gives lessons (I think I need to take a few). In a few short clicks and properties explorations, he was able to reverse the fatal "shortcut" flaw and create a new CD for me.

The first photo (above) is the entrance to the institute. A few meters from the entrance, standing in front of a cafe, was a woman asking institute visitors to sign a petition and give a donation for a group of Hindu refugees looking for homes somewhere south of Dharamsala. Everyone here is in need of services of one kind or another.

The cloth Thankas (corrected spelling, here, but the /th/ is pronounced as /t/) are completed by teams of artists. Some are laying the stencils, while other artists are stitching over the chalk stencil lines. Men and women can be found winding silk thread around horsetail hair (as shown below) or snipping fabric and pressing cut edges back. One of the final steps is to glue the sewed pieces to a backing.

This woman is winding silk thread around horsetail hair. She ties a small pebble at each end of the hair in order to weigh it down as it is pulled through her fingers with one hand while she is spinning colored thread around the hair with the other. Simply amazing to watch!

Here is an example of the center of a brocade Thanka. Each individual piece of fabric used to make this part of the central design will then be stitched again before being attached to a larger cloth where additional designs make up the outer "setting."

In the woodcutting workshop, the craftsmen work tirelessly on their pieces. There's a quiet and peaceful air to the studio as well as the clean smell of fresh cut wood. As you can see from this photo, the paper stencil is pasted to the wood before the cutting begins. These fellows learn to simply draw the pictures for one and a half years before being allowed to work with wood.

Here are the drawings created by the woodcutters. The images are based on Buddhist scripture and apprentices are instructed by the head lamas (master teachers) as to the proper depiction of each story. Some images can be used more than one time, but like the Thankas, once the central image is cut, the artist adds his own background "setting."

In the metal sculpture workshop, the artists often work together on larger pieces. Some of the Buddha sculptures are over eight feet high. After the resinous mold is made, the copper is formed around it. Then, a layer of gold leaf and another gold-like material is layered over that to increase the luminescence of the piece.

The Japanese style gardens definitely have a Tibetan quality to them as well. These prayer stones are found all over Tibetan communities. They basically are prayers for world peace which is the Dalai Lama's message. Om Mani Pad Me Hung...May Peace Prevail Everywhere On Earth.

Time to go meet my private tutor English student. We spend our hour together reading and understanding political articles and opinions essays about Tibet. He , like so many other young Tibetans, is absolutely certain that a fully independent Tibet is the only solution. Older people are more moderate and want to follow the Dalai Lama's Middle way.

I've Got the "Picture Blues"

2009-07-25T00:11:00.000-07:00

Another weekend and probably my last here in McL. I've been trying to figure out yet another glitch with some fabulous pictures from a trip last weekend to NorbulingkaInstitute. This art institute is located south of Dharamsala and was the brainchild of the Dalai Lama, among others, as a way to preserve Tibetan arts and culture back in the 1980's.

It took seven years to build this facility with sponsorship from many countries including Japan, the U.S.A., Canada, France, etc. Designed by Japanese architects, the lovely grounds have been stylized as Japanese gardens, replete with stone walkways, plantings, rock walls and staircases.

The artists who gain admission here to study Thongka painting (finely detailed scripture-related designs), wood carving, metal sculpture and brocade and fabric work, must pass a rigorous exam in order to be accepted. So, only the best of the best begin their training here at Norbulingka.

Apprenticeships can run from five to eight years depending upon the craft. Many of the artisans spend the first one to three years simply learning from the master lamas to interpret the teachings of Buddha. These budding artists will spend those years drawing the pictures that will become the stencils for the final artwork.

A tour guide showed me through the studios and explained that the students spend an hour a day in prayer and another in meditation before starting their daily work. This enables them to focus, concentrate and keep working for several hours on what might be just a small detail of the whole piece. Most of the artists are "plugged in" to their headphones, listening to music through their mobiles. It's pretty comical to see these young men and women performing such spiritual tasks in such a contemporary style.

My sincere apologies for not being able to share the pictures of this amazing place with you. Somehow, my flash drive copied the pictures in a folder. Then I was unable to get them out of the folder and onto the blog. Next, I burned them onto a CD, but they copied as shortcuts and now they will not upload to the blog. As Travis tells me, I know just enough about computers to get myself into big trouble! Hopefully, upon my return, someone much smarter than me will be able to help me figure out how to undo the damage so I can share some of these photos with you. If anyone out there has any suggestions as to how to repair this damage, please let me know.

Until then, I will share a few otherphotos of recent happenings around the town. Below is the "house under construction" near my hotel. Note the bamboo scaffolding that is holding up what will be the roof. The hotel owner is fairly distressed about this home as it mars his view of Snow Mountain.
Here's a view from the hotel lobby. As you can see, the scenery is stunning. As the light changes from morning to night, I find myself snapping pictures of the same scenes. They look different depending upon the time of day. Eagles (golden, perhaps?) can be seen soaring through the trees and air from morning to night. The rather skinny, comical-looking crows chase the eagles, trying to scare them into dropping their food. Among the many morning sounds, the crows always seem to make me laugh. They're loud, raucous and rude, just as you'd expect crows to be!

Not sure if you've seen this one before. Below is a typical toilet as can be found in most hotels and public facilities. This one is rather big and clean compared to some. Notice that there is virtually no seat. A squat toilet is properly used by planting your feel on either side of the "bowl," squatting down in a deep-knee bend and "having at it!" It's a bit tricky at first, figuring out just how far forward or back one needs to stand in order to "aim straight," but once that detail is confirmed, all is well. The blue bucket in the back corner is for paper (most paper is NOT flushed unless you are in a high-tech facility).

Note the bucket in the front left side of the photo. It stands under a faucet that comes out of the wall. When finished with your "business," you turn on the faucet, run some water into the pail and dump the water down the toilet. The tank on the back wall does not hold water for flushing. In my humble opinion, it is just for show! One must always remember to bring paper in with you when using the "toilet" as none is provided. Neither do most facilities have sinks for washing. One gets used to carrying toilet paper and hand sanitizer at all times!

Here's picture taken on the day I traveled to Norbulingka Institute. I was at the bus station in Dharamsala, waiting for my government bus to leave for the next leg of the journey, when I spotted these Indian families waiting for their bus. Traveling by bus is very popular because it is so inexpensive. My trip from McLeod Ganj to Norbulingka cost Rs12/-, which is approximately 25 cents to travel about 15 -20 miles.

When traveling long distances, people bring suitcases, bags, backpacks, boxes, etc. with them. The government buses are about as roomy and comfortable as a school bus (with many fewer seats) and when filled, passengers are encouraged to stand in the aisles or sit in a seat near the driver. There's little storage room on the bus itself (even though you may want to protect your parcels), so many bags are carried on top. Here you can see the "problem solvers" trying to figure out the best way to load and tie the bags on top of the bus before it leaves the station.

The monkeys are everywhere, though seeing them at this end of town is not quite so common. This revealing fellow (or gal) was one of a troop that climbed the buildings, electric poles and swung on the unruly cables found hanging from poles to housetops. A few moments later, another monkey crossed the road in front of the pedestrians who gave him/her plenty of room. Buddhists and Hindus revere the monkeys, Along with the cows, mules, dogs, etc., the monkeys are never harmed.

...after the rain the mountains look misty and surreal. It's quite moving and mystical here during the monsoons.

On rainy days (there's been quite a few of those, lately!), everyone sleeps late. Shops may not open, the stalls where Tibetans, who are not allowed to own property and do not have the resources to do so anyway, are closed up until the rain ends, and even the dogs lie low until the rain ends.

The above photo was taken on my way to the "best coffee spot in town,"where each order of South Indian coffee is served in an individual French press for Rs35/- (75 cents). The many homeless dogs are tolerated by the townspeople as part of daily life here in McL. The dogs survive by eating from the wet dump sites along the roads until the Welfare Office trucks come to shovel up the debris each day. These scraggly pups are waiting out the rain like the rest of us.

Here's a typical Tibetan stall along Temple Road. Each day, Tibetan craftsmen and women carry huge bags of their wares to the stalls, unpack their goods, carefully laying out each piece of jewelry, blanket, etc., and wait for customers to come along and negotiate for a good price. As you can see, the stall is not much more than some bamboo poles, a few planks of wood for the counter and plastic tarps to line the back and bottom. Rocks are piled up underneath the wobbly counters to add to the stability of the temporary shop.

...negotiation is the name of the game here, although it is a bit unfair to do so with the Tibetan people who are barely making enough money to feed their families each day. I try to keep my bargaining at a minimum or not engage in it at all when buying from the stall owners. Dealing with the Indians, however, is quite another story. They expect you to bargain with them and usually start their prices quite high waiting for the customer to begin the game of "name the next lower price." Much good-natured bantering goes on while a price is being decided upon.

Here, some jewelry is being weighed and the price will be decided upon depending upon the weight of the items. Even though some sellers cannot speak much English, the calculator in hand does all the talking as it is passed back and forth from merchant to customer.

These lovely Tibetan women were leaving the Dalai Lama temple when I asked if I might snap their picture. They were pleased if not somewhat shy. Tibetan women typically wear their clothing as shown here. The long dress is really a wrap-around jumper that ties in the back, and the apron is a necessary part of their daily wear, whether they are in the kitchen or not! I loved the "cowboy" hat on the woman on the left.

Sending packages home is easier than carrying more weight in my bag. This tailor master, Lobsang Ngodup, is preparing a package of wall hangings for me to ship home. India is, according to him, the only country where packages sent through the mail are custom-fitted with cloth wrapping. Lobsang sews, on the spot, a cotton cover for your package; seams are run quickly on his machine and the package is secured in the cloth cover with a bit of extra hand sewing. Then, candle wax is used for extra protection along the hand-sewn edges.

Thanks for visiting my blog from time to time. I know some of my posts are long and probably tedious for my readers. There is so much to share that sometimes I get carried away. I love reading your comments on the blog and look forward to hearing from you anytime!

A Day in the Life

2009-07-22T08:29:00.000-07:00

Living in small hamlets outside of McL, are many Indian families. These women were visiting with each other, sitting on rocks close to the road. Renea and I were walking to the booming metropolis of Dharamsala one Saturday when we met them. While their goats and cows grazed along the hillside below, we tried to ask them questions. Although they spoke no English, pictures (having a camera helps one to make friends immediately, as most villagers are not shy about having their pictures taken as long as you show them the results), gestures and smiles helped us to communicate with them.

This young lad was another "local" we met along the way. He insisted on walking with us, directed our picture-taking and was quite assertive for one so young. He carried a small metal pail that had a honey colored liquid in it and several coins that he'd earned from begging in McL earlier that day. A real conniver, he asked Renea for a drink of her water (most Indians and Tibetans drink without letting their lips touch the bottle) and after firmly planting his lips on the bottle and taking a nice, big swig, she told him to keep the rest of it, knowing that he'd probably planned to make the water his anyway!

Road crews are manned (and "womened") by some of the lower castes. This woman, carrying a load of sand in the basket actually had a pretty light load to transport to the workers repairing the road (note the condition of the road beneath her) that day. Many women can be seen balancing stones, bricks and concrete pieces on their heads. They wear a padded cushion beneath the basket to protect their skulls. I've been told that they are paid Rs 10-/ an hour (that's about 20 cents an hour!)

We passed this Hindu shrine along the way to Dharamsala. Ganesh, the god of balance, is on the right. Shrines are often open to anyone who wishes to stop by and pray. Offerings of food, money and flowers are often found at the feet of the statues. This small building sat along one of the steep switchbacks on the road. We climbed a set of steps to reach it and rested in the shade along the way to the "big city." The cow (below) rested with us beneath the beautiful flowering plants outside the shrine.

My dad was a sheet metal worker and would have appreciated the handicraft of this young man. Making aluminum containers, bowls, hinges and other metal objects is apparently a very lucrative business here. In the hill towns, not only do mules carry supplies up the mountains, but people do, too. It's not unusual to see someone walking up the hill with one of the larger trunks strapped to their back. I've seen truckloads of these handmade containers being unloaded in McL at restaurants, shops, etc. They provide good waterproof storage in this very wet area of the world.

Shoe shops are everywhere. Many shops sell new shoes and sneakers (walking on this rough terrain requires new shoes more often than we'd expect). However, shoe repair, a lost art in our neck of the woods, is still very important here as new shoes cost more money than most people can afford. This man tried to sell me another pair of hiking boots (that looked slightly used) and was very eager to have me watch him work.

In McL, Tibetan prayer flags are found everywhere. Prayer flags are screen-printed with passages from scripture, the teachings of Buddha.

This collection of tarps, I believe, is someone's humble home on the roof of the building across from the monastery where I teach. Houses for the poor in India can be made from plastic, corrugated metal, slabs of wood and cardboard. Regardless of the material used to construct one's home, the surrounding plants are usually beautiful and serve to detract from the otherwise unsightly exterior of a family's home.

The mules are carrying concrete rubble that's being removed from a building in town where renovation is being completed (You've seen some of the construction pictures of this building in earlier posts). They scamper down the hillsides on the return trip to eat some well deserved grass once the concrete's been unloaded from the burlap bags on their backs. The herdsman has to yell at the top of his lungs to get them back on the road again. Their bells can be heard jingling past my window on most days. It's a lovely way to wake up!

Water detail is, for some families, a daily chore. This man usually checks the water tanks before loading his bucket for the day. He is standing on the roof of his home which is level with the road where the mules kick by each morning. Note the motorbikes on the roof, too. After bringing the water to his family in their flat below, the family again walks upstairs . Mom and the little boy wait just beyond the brick structure you can see on the lower left for the dad to start up the bike and whisk the family off to school and work. No one wears helmets and kids often sit in front of the driver!

Here are some pictures of my students. The nuns are in the 1:00 p.m. class. The nun on the left is quite shy in class, but as you can see here, is quite a cutie when it comes to taking pictures!

Waiting in the rain for class to begin, we sit outside the monastery that we share space with at Volunteer Tibet. The monastery will not allow us to meet outside the classroom even though there may be over thirty students and two or three teachers in the classroom at one time.

In our 1 p.m. class, there are students from Burma, Vietnam, Tibet, Thailand and France.

These precious monks (four out of the five, anyway) are my students at the Gyuto Monastery on Tipa Road in McLeod Ganj . They are funny, boyish and full of glee, just as you might expect Buddhist monks to be. We laugh steadily as I try to teach them some simple English. I will sorely miss them when I leave in a week's time!

Good night from India!

Hiking to Triund

2009-07-16T22:47:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I hiked up the local mountain, Triund, with some students and a fellow teacher from San Diego. We left at 7:00 a.m. for the seven hour trek in order to be home before dark. This mountain stands at almost 3,00m. While still on the road to Dharamkot, the next closest hill town, we were met by the many maque monkeys who live on the hillside. They mostly ignore humans except if they feel their young are being threatened. Needless to say, we kept our distance.

As always, I am in awe of the size of what we know as small "critters." Here's a slug found along the road. Check out the size of this guy next to my boot. Apparently, they do not have long life spans, but they make tasty treats for the next generation of offspring. You can often see younger ones feeding on the "expired" elders.

Still down at the bottom of the trail, Renea and I are full of vim and vigor. What we didn't know was how far we still had to go to reach the summit!

The trail was long, steep and very rocky. What you can see here is not even as high as we climbed on that day. I am so glad I had my trekking poles. Although the weather was overcast, it was the perfect day for hiking, not too hot and not too sunny, something most locals don't want when climbing over 1,000m from where we live.

Along the way, we met lots of locals who are out on the trail for a variety of reasons. Some are cutting firewood, others are cutting grass for their livestock, others are leading cows and mules laden with supplies up the mountain. This pesky fellow spent much of his owner's valuable time trying to butt her with his horns as she was cutting branches along the hillside. Eventually, he found some grass to eat and let her get back to work.

As we climbed, we passed these houses on some of the smaller hills below. What you're looking at are the slate roofs of monks' homes who live in this wilderness, a simple but peaceful existence. As you can see, the clouds have already moved in and the town below is invisible.

At our first stop, a cafe where hikers can rest and have a snack and a beverage (notice the crates of Coca Cola at bottom right, delivered to the cafe by mule), we noticed the barn above. This is the typical dwelling for the livestock that the hill people depend on to bring supplies to them each week.

...still we climb...it seemed endless at times, but the views, when the clouds lifted from time to time, exposed such gorgeous views as this one.

Finally we made it to the top. Exhausted but exhilarated, we cheered, stretched, collapsed on the tarps laid out for folks who plan to camp for the night and ate dal and rice to re-energize before the much less strenuous climb back down.
Over the edge of this flat summit were, of course, more cows. Among them was this massive fellow who allowed me to take several picture of him. He did seem a bit unnerved as I attempted to get closer and closer. At the point at which he began to move his legs as if to stand up, I quickly said goodbye and headed back up to the summit cafe where the rest of our group was getting ready to eat lunch.
For those of you who remember Liz Harkes, this shot shows me sending off some of her ashes on the summit of Triund. I'd collected some last fall, a few days after friends and family climbed Vroman's Nose to release her remains, brought them to India with me for the very purpose of spreading her gentle and joyous spirit in yet another place on earth.

After eating lunch, it was time to head down the mountain. It had taken us, thanks to slowpoke Susan, an extra hour to hike up, and we wanted to be down before dark. Two of my English students were our guides that day. Tashi and Balu, a Tibetan and an Indian, are studying yoga and hoping to open their own studio someday. They had the opportunity to practice their English all day and Renea and I had reliable guides to help us find our way.
Balu, above, is from southern India. Tashi, pointing to the mountain, is from Tibet. Tashi escaped from Tibet fifteen years ago. It took forty-nine days to walk to India. He slept overnight on the cold ground with twelve other refugees, having little food and then none when their supplies ran out. He, like so many other Tibetans, is determined to return to his homeland someday and help his family who remains there.

This stone house was entirely handmade . As rocks are for the taking and trees are not plentiful or preferred due to weather conditions and Buddhist belief of not destroying living things.

Gotta go, power's ending. Later!

The Tibetan Children's Village School

2009-07-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

The Tibetan Children's Village is located on top of one of the steep hills surrounding McLeod Ganj. It houses and teaches 2.000 students whose parents have sent them here from Tibet or India to become educated on the campus. There are several TCV's found in India to serve the large numbers of Tibetan children who cannot be educated in Tibet the way their parents want them to because of Communist Chinese rule. I walked up here one morning to have a look around. It was a holiday and although the kids were on campus, classes were not in session. Lucky kids!!!

This was the gentleman who directed me to the school once I reached the town of Dal Lake. I saw him again as I was leaving the school grounds. He was heading up the steep school driveway with his round lunch pail to get his midday meal at the school canteen (kitchen). We chatted again before parting. Although he did not speak much English, we managed to communicate with smiles, laughter and a friendly, "Namaste," which, roughly translated, means, "The god in me greets the god in you!"

The TCV school playground is located at the entrance to the school. Beyond it is a courtyard where many older boys were playing basketball on their day off. Although the playground is functional, it's not exactly as grand as our own beloved Maze Craze, eh?

The 2,000 students live in group dormitories with similar aged kids. They are cared for by many adults in each dorm and have daily chores to help keep their buildings neat and clean. This is the Babies' Room. About 20 babies are taken care of in this dorm by several women. When I was there, the babes were watching TV!!!

Some of the babies were sent by their parents and others were literally left at TCV's doorstep with their personal data (name, birthdate, etc.) tucked in the baby's cap. Tibetan parents often cannot take care of their children. Since they have escaped from Tibet, they cannot find jobs here in India that will pay them enough money to raise their children properly. The babies range in age from four months to four years old.

This is the TCV gymnasium next to the field where several informal soccer (called football here in India) were being played. Check out the sign on the gymnasium wall, "Come to learn, go to serve." It's very typical of Tibetans, who face such challenges in their homeland, to be selfless in their hopes and dreams for the future. Many of my students have said they want to go back to Tibet and teach children and adults there.

This is Dal Lake (Dal is the Hindi word for "lentil."). Dal Lake is a very sacred place where, every September, many Indians come to take a dip in the lake's waters and receive a blessing.

As you can see, at this point in the summer, the lake is just a big muddy hole. Can you see the Indian women working in the lake bed? They are using pick axes to dig the trench that they are standing in.

I'm not quite sure why they were doing this and neither was the young boy selling chicken in a tiny food stall along the fence. Another mystery unsolved! I'll be heading up to Dal Lake again before I leave McL and, after checking on the status of the lake, will let you know if the water level has risen!

Zim ja nang! ("Good night," in Tibetan).

Around the Town

2009-07-12T23:19:00.000-07:00

Animals share the town with people and vehicles. Although we see cows regularly in our "neck of the woods," they're never seen hanging out, as this one is, in front of someone's building, along with the stone, brick and other construction materials waiting to be used on the building behind. Traffic is held up regularly by these great and sacred bovines!
The road to Dharamsala, the next largest town south of McLeod Ganj, is a steep and winding 3km walk. Small hamlets where people have general stores, food and auto repair shops and, amazingly, internet cafes and ATM machines (!) are found along the road. Typically, roofs are made of corrugated tin or, in the case of this home, slate. Notice the almost perfectly cut (probably by hand) squares of slate layered here. They do not appear to be nailed but simply lay atop one another from row to row and held in place by large rocks. What we pay dearly for in the states is overabundant here in India.
Going to the main temple is always peaceful. Watching the monks, visitors and locals use the temple to pray, play, read, meditate, and eat, as in the case of the monks here, is a reminder of how important Buddhism is to the people of India and Tibet. Many Indians practice Hinduism. However, as a gentleman in Dharamsala explained to me last weekend, Hinduism was the origin of many Eastern religions, including Buddhism.

Monks are often found leaving the temple grounds. Many live at smaller monasteries around McL, but it is not uncommon to meet them on the street. They shop, talk on their cell phones, play 29 (a game like pool) and take English lessons. I have many monks and nuns in my conversation classes. This side entrance/exit to the temple leads to the street where the father and daughter musicians were entertaining the crowds of passersby on July 6, the birthday of HH the 14th Dalai Lama, and a great Tibetan restaurant.

Another Lazy Weekend

2009-07-10T22:59:00.000-07:00

Last Monday was the Dalai Lama's birthday, so there was no school and many shops were closed. Instead, people gathered at the main temple to watch the special ceremonies in honor of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, who was actually out of town for the festivities. People gathered on rooftops, balconies, the temple floors and benches to watch students from various schools in the area perform for Karmapa, another high lama, and the other dignitaries.
High school and college students dressed in traditional dress entertained for mesmerized audiences. Tibetans have little contact with their families back in Tibet due to the increasingly strict rules set down by the Chinese government, so a strong connection with their culture is necessary.
Beautiful voices, faces and costumes are the "rule of thumb" for Tibetans, whose love of country and separation from it are at opposite ends of the exile scale. Some of these young people have not seen their families for many years. The Communist Chinese government has tried to squash Tibetan language and culture. Celebrating the Dalai Lama's birthdy was a wonderful way for the Tibetans in exile to connect once again, if just for the day, with their heritage.

On weekends and special holidays, all the musicians come out on the streets to play and, hopefully, earn some Rupees from crowds of passerbys. These two talented youngsters made beautiful music and probably earned enough money to buy them food for a few days. I always ask permission when taking photos. However, Indian families are very social and I am frequently asked to be in their family photos; nothing like knowing a Westerner!!

Another Indian family trying to earn enough Rupees for a day's food. The little girl was playing some percussion hand clappers made of wood, perhaps the hard seed shell from a mango or papaya. Dad's music was enchanting and many passersby took photos and dropped money in their collection plate. They were sitting along the wall outside the main temple on the Dalai Lama's birthday, so their audience was quite large.

The rain has stopped and I'm off for the 3km walk down the steep road to Dharamsala, the next biggest town. There's supposed to be a great Indian restaurant there called, surprisingly enough, Midtown, that I hope to try for dinner. Tashi Delek!

A Busy Week

2009-07-10T01:42:00.001-07:00

My teaching day begins at 1:00 P.M. and doesn't end until 7:30 P.M. My last class is at the Gyuto Monastery on Tipa Road, the road leading up to TIPA (pictures in last post). I work with five or six monks here on Beginning English. This is the doorway to the monastery where they live in McL. They are very delightful men who are well aware that they cannot speak very well. They work hard every evening. When I get to the monastery each day, one or another of them are already in the classroom, studying Buddhism or going over our previous night's lesson.

McL is not very clean. Unfortunately, there is limited garbage pick-up and not a trash can to be seen on the streets. A trash collector does come around each day to pick up the garbage which collects in piles like these with a shovel, but the many stray dogs, cows, work mules and horses that roam the streets do a pretty good job of helping out, too! This shot was taken on my daily walks throuugh town to a restaurant, cafe, the classroom where I teach or the monastery.
This sizable fellow (compare him/her to my boot toe!) was crossing the road on the way to the temple. I practically knocked an unsuspecting Indian gentleman over trying to save this arachnid from being stepped on (you know me and my LOVE of animals great and small!). A young Indian boy and I worked laboriously, using a stick to get the little/big guy to disappear in the drain gutter that runs along the side of the road so there'd be no more close calls!

I'm off to the Dalai Lama temple now to meet with one of my private tutor students. A very bright young man, he is a pretty advanced English speaker. The temple is quiet and is near the Tibetan museum where later this afternoon, a lecture about non-violence will be held. My class is meeting me there today to listen to the lecture. One of next week's topics of discussion will be about non-violence.

There are two schools of thought about the situation in Tibet. The Students for a Free Tibet want Tibet to have complete independence from China. The Dalai Lama subscribes to the "middle path," which is one in which Tibet and China live in harmony, each helping the other. The present situation for Tibet is one of extreme persecution by China.

Monks and nuns are being arrested or "go missing" if they demonstrate against the Chinese takeover. School children are not allowed to learn their own language in school; they must learn Chinese and wear Chinese uniforms. Tibetans are forced to work on Chinese gov't projects in their own country and many Chinese people are moving into Tibet. Culture and traditions are being lost in Tibet. Many of my students want to become teachers and go back to their homes (some have been away for more than fifteen years) to teach the children.

More later. Please keep in touch. I am not using my bridge 21 address at this time. You can email me at londonsusan737@gmail.com if you wish or post a comment here.

Happy Independence Day from McLeod Ganj!

2009-07-04T08:28:00.000-07:00

On my first weekend off from teaching English, it was the perfect day to hike to one of the surrounding hill towns outside of McLeod Ganj. After eating Tibetan Brown Bread and jam for breakfast, my friend and I headed up Tipa Road. Along the way, we passed two Indian men carrying this cloth. In the center are many rupees that people have tossed in as a way to ensure good health and fortune in return for the good deed of giving to others.

Our first stop on Tipa Road was TIPA, the Tibetan Institute of the Performing Arts, a school where Tibetan culture is preserved. The Dali Lama started the Institute many years ago as a way to ensure that Tibetan people would keep the traditions of their homeland even though many of them had to leave Tibet to save themselves from Communist Chinese rule.

At TIPA, we wandered past this mini temple on the institute grounds. We met a Tibetan man who was very fluent in English. He offered to take us around the institute. We spent over an hour walking through the costume studio watching mask and costume makers at work.
This gentleman has been making masks for 25 years. He sews them by hand using very fine stitches. He loves his work and is a master craftsman.
The mask on the left is an example of his work. The masks are used for traditional dances and operas. Right now,, some of the artists are preparing for a dance competition that will be held on August 11. The dancers are practicing secretly so no one can copy their work.

This woman makes headpieces that are worn during dances. She is modeling one for us!

This is Penpa, the gentleman who took us through TIPA. He is holding one of the boots that the dancers wear. The shoemaker was making the bottom half of boots like these using a sewing machine. He shares studio space with the painters.
We finally made it to Dharamkot! This quiet little town above noisy McLeod Ganj is the perfect place to "chill out." There are very few people here and it is very clean compared to the noisy, crowded and fairly unkempt town where I teach English everyday. It is a welcome relief from the hustle and bustle of the lower hill station of "McL," as the locals call it. We ate Indian food at the Gecko Cafe (you can see the blue and yellow sign on the lefthand side of the road). My spicy Indian vegetable dish and garlic chapati (one kind of Indian bread that is like a taco shell) cost Rs 90/-, which is equivalent to about 2US$! A glass of tea costs Rs 5/-. Can you figure out how much that might cost in America?
The view from Dharamkot is pretty spectacular. The white dots you see on the mountain on the left are actually people's homes. There are footpaths along the mountains that people use to get from McL to their homes. It might take about two hours to walk home to visit your parents if you worked and lived in town. The mountain in the far background is pure rock. Can you see the snow on top? Last year McL had no snow. This is a problem, as it greatly reduces the water supply even now during the monsoon.
Upon returning from Dharamkot, we pass the monastery where I teach Beginning English to six very nice monks. We laugh a lot and work hard to help them learn our language.
Back down in McL, we're back in the "thick of it," with noisy cars and cabs, friendly people, slow moving cows blocking the road and sleeping dogs. Evening is beginning and everyone is out on the streets to shop, eat and visit. The traffic jam you see in this picture happens almost everyday. Policemen try to sort it out by blowing their whistles unendingly, but it only adds to the confusion!

Hope you're enjoying the pics and posts. You can comment on any of these posts if you wish. I'd love to hear from you! Tashi Delek!

My first teaching day

2009-06-30T09:25:00.000-07:00

I have finally started teaching today! I've met two of my three daily classes so far. One is the class in the picture. They are intermediate English speakers so it was fairly easy to have a conversation. They are smart young men and have interesting stories to tell. We spent the lesson telling the story of each of our lives and having others ask questions. This helped us to come up with a list of topics for future classes. Among our next topics will be using a map of Tibet to learn about cities, towns, river, etc., the philosophy of Buddhism and ONE of the students is studying painting pictures on cloth at the temple. We might even take a "field trip" there to see his work.

My other class today was at the small monastery at the other end of town. The monks there speak almost no English but were very earnest and eager to learn. Our first class was learning to introduce ourselves and say a bit about where we're from and where we live. (Most of them have come from Tibet and are living in India to escape the Chinese government's unjust rule of their land their people.

I will have to name these pictures for you as my latest idea for putting captions on each when I took them from my camera to My Pictures did NOT work. Next time, I will upload one pic at a time and give a blurb about it, not rambling on and on about something else and leaving you confused. My apologies for this cyber-challenged blogger's brain!

Starting from top: Children during morning exercises; My intermediate conversation class of very smart students and another English teacher; construction vehicles (these mules are walked to work each morning right under my guest house window; construction site in town (check out the sandals, bamboo poles to hold up the roof and no hard hats!); the view from the town after this morning's rain (breathtaking, eh?).

Hope you're enjoying these posts and pics. If anyone can clue me in on how to caption pictures as I go, I'd love to be "in the know." Till we meet again...Tashi Delek!

First full day in McLeod Ganj

2009-06-28T09:09:00.001-07:00

My first full day in McLeod Ganj was exciting and lively. I met with the director of the VolunteerTibet to learn more about the hardships of the Tibetan people. Life has been difficult for those living in Tibet. They are facing persecution by Communist China. Living here in India has also been hard for them.

Most Tibetans speak little or no English or Hindi (one of the six most common languages spoken in India), so finding work is a challenge. Many people here sell handicrafts and have restaurants to make money. The town had only two buildings fifteen years ago. Today it has completely "grown up" into a bustling hill town. Many Indians come here on holiday, so that is a good way for the Tibetans who live here to earn an income. However, many are very poor anyway. (48 Rupees equals one dollar. A tee shirt, for example, costs 130 Rupees!)

A severe thunderstorm cooled and refreshed the air this afternoon. The mountain tops were shrouded in clouds. I visited a temple and watched people from all over India praying as the monks chanted and played musical instruments. After dinner, there was a concert at the Yongling School by a Tibetan musician playing traditional Tibetan music. He explained that Tibetans have learned play their songs for only five minutes like Indians do. In Tibet, they have to celebrate the New Year for more than one month because each song or dance can last for more than one hour!

Manju Ka Tilla

2009-06-27T05:18:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Delhi on Thursday night. Hot, noisy and very alive. My driver brought me to the Tara House in Manju Ka Tilla, a Tibetan community outside of Delhi, where I slept soundly for seven hours. After a breakfast of Vegetable Thukpa (a brothy soup with noodles and veggies) and sweet tea, I walked around this very poor town. Dogs, cows, kids and people were out on the narrow streets selling all kinds of goods. The people were friendly and eager to talk to this American. The stories of their escape from Tibet were amazing. These I will share with you as I figure out how to unload pictures from my camera. Hope you're all enjoying the summer holiday so far. It was over 100 degrees in Delhi yesterday and very hot today, even in the mountains!

My Family

2009-06-22T18:03:00.000-07:00

I will miss my family very much while I am in India. This photo was taken Saturday evening after heARTS aligned, a rather eclectic graphic arts/music show at the Bread and Jam Cafe in Cohoes.

This photo will help to keep my nearest and dearest close to my heart while I'm gone. See y'all in August!

Middleburgh Elementary School

2009-06-19T08:47:00.000-07:00

Here is the fabulous school where I teach terrific second graders. I hope they will "follow" me as I visit India.

Last Day With My Students from MCS

2009-06-19T04:22:00.000-07:00

Today is my last day of school for the year. I will miss my second graders who are ready and raring to go on to third grade. I hope you have a very happy summer and can "visit" with me from time to time to catch up on "Where in India is Ms. London now?" Check out the gorgeous view of Vroman's Nose (I'll miss YOU!) from my backyard in Middleburgh.

Prelude

2009-06-10T20:14:00.000-07:00

Fourteen short days until I leave for the sub-continent. It's time to slow down and start packing. I'm finding myself excited, sad, scared and over-anxious. Things like finding the right pair of boots, figuring out the best way to carry money, remembering my passport and not overpacking are weighing me down and keeping me awake at night.

Although the trip to my volunteer community will be long, I look forward to the first leg of my journey halfway around the world when I will have nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the view! Getting ready to go....:)