Dharamsala, or McLeodGanj (the small town north) is also known as "Little Tibet." the Dali Lama has been in Exile for 50 years this year and continues to work as the President of Tibet in Exile. I have wanted to go and hang out with the Monks since the first week that I came to India.
I had been home from the US not even one week. I was sitting at work desperately trying to catch up when I received a phone call from my roommate - Saabira, "hey, I am at the bus station and I want to go to Dharamsala this weekend do you want to come? I am going to buy tickets..."
I thought for two seconds and then replied, "yeah buy me one."
"are you sure? Is this a confirmation? I am going to buy them?"
"Yes, do it! I am in."
So she bought two tickets there and was told that you can only get the return tickets at the station when you get in. No problem...that is if you remember to get them when you arrive which of course we did not. But I digress...
So we leave to the bus station directly from work and the say the least, bus and train stations are not that nice, or friendly, clean, or well designed. There are usually no signs, and like most non-tourist places, no English. The only way that you find where you are going is by stopping and asking 10 thousand times. Every couple of feet to make sure that the last person was really telling you the truth. Luckily Saabs speaks Hindi and I could manage if she was not there.
We got on the bus, popped sleeping pills, and put in our ear plugs as we trying to drown out the screeching wailing old school Bollywood movie on the TV. Done, asleep, and at our destination.
Of course last minute plans mean no hotel or place to stay, so we started walking. Up STEEP, STEEP hills towards the shared Taxi stands. Okay I thought. Shared taxis...1/2 hour ride for 10 rupees. Great cost, but let's see what you have to sacrifice. This old, white, Jeep pulls up and 5 of us pile in. Okay, not so bad. Then we stop along the way and the numbers grow from 5 to 7 to 9 to 10 to 11. Really when the last person got in I thought it was impossible. Random people had my bags on their laps without complaint. Have you ever been so close to a stranger that you could literaly feel their hip bones on yours? Well now I have, but it was Dharamsala, the home of hippies, so we were relaxed and just went with it.
One of our friends used to live in McLeodGanj and recommended that we stay at the Monastery where he used to live. He said that when we get there to refer to him with his Indian name...which of course we forgot, but no harm done.
To find this place we had to go off the backside of the main town and walk down and down about 200 steep steps through construction and leaky sewage and then you reached the calm little reserve called Tse-Chok Ling Monastery. It was perfectly situated on the edge of a gorge looking into the valley. It was so peaceful and relaxing. Saabira would wake up at different times and read or write and then go up the the kitchen and eat Tibetian bread and coffee. When I entered there was this older man sitting at the table. He asked me to sit with him.
We started talking and I learned that he was the founder of the Monestery. We talked about it for a while and then the natural question of, "Where are you from?" came about. "The US." "Oh, I have been there! I have been to New York, San Francisco, LA, and Eeetha." "Where was the last place, I don't know if I am familiar." "Eeethica." He said it a couple of times before I could figure that through his accent he was saying "ITHACA!" My love and passion. I couldn't contain it any more. I told him that I went to school there, and that I used to go and pray with the monks when they had just a little red house down town and now there is this huge Monastery and when the Dalai Lama came to Ithaca I tried and tried to get tickets to hear him speak but all three venues were sold out. He was smiling and laughing at my excitement. He said that he has not been there to see the new place, but his friend is running it and he hopes to go again some day.
Saabs and I were determined to eat authentic Tibetan food...but what is that you ask? Good question, we didn't know. We walked around until we found one of the lonely planet recommended spots and then we asked our Waiter. He ended up talking to us for the whole time we were eating and curious about what the night life in this small, yoga and holistic health haven was all about we met up with him and a friend for a drink later that night.
There were language barriers all over the place. He and I couldn't really understand each other and so everything had to be filtered through Saabira who was not in a super social mood that weekend. It caused for interesting conversation. Turns out that Jampul has been living in Dharamsala in exile for 4 years now. He was telling us about the school that takes in any people from exile, provides free education and then they go on their way. He said that is was great and he was happy, but his grandparents are getting old and he hasn't seen them in years and he doesn't know if he will ever be able to again since he cannot go home. What a strange concept, that people are separated from family and friends and since they had to run away illegally, they don't have the option to be with those they love when they want to.
We were both exhausted after a long overnight bus so we decided to head back early. Upon Saabira asking what "we" should do tomorrow meaning me and her, Jampul was like, "Oh, ah, well I have to work tomorrow, but I guess I could show you around in the morning." Language barrier turned in our favor. We planned to meet him at 10am and walked flashlights in hand down the 200 steps to our monastery.
At 10am Indian time we rolled up to the bus stop, hopped on a local bus and went down to a town called Lhasa where there was a children's hostel where the kids learned Tibetian handiwork. It again was so relaxing. We stayed there for a while and then walked up the road a way to the nunnery. It was so great to see them all laughing and playing with one another. Teaching the young kids and just living a simple peaceful life. We proceeded onto Funky Town where there was a restuarant and a pool that all the monks came to and went swimming at. What a funny thing to see these Monks
one second in their robes and the next in their little tiny bathing suits.
We continued walking and Jampul wanted to show us his school where any refugee is given a free education. He said that he walked the path that we were going every week between the towns. It took us like 2 hours. We were really enjoying it, but in the heat and sun we were complaining. He looked at us and said that when he escaped from Tibet he walked for 26 days straight. That put both of us into our places immediately.
Overall the trip was so refreshing and just what I needed. You can only be in Delhi for so long before you get annoyed with the heat, honking, dust and men-centric atmosphere. We asked Jampul what the white scarf in our room was at the Monastery. He said that it was an offering to say welcome, or good-bye we hope you come again.
"It is a part of Tibetan way of life from birth to death and between. It is also used as a sign of recognition of one’s love or respect for another. The offering of Khata is probably one of the most well known customs of Tibetan culture. Something that one could call a Tibetan bouquet, that is very reusable and one specific Khata may travel the world over."
On our last day in Dharmsala, we went to the restaurant where Jampul worked. He gave us a huge hug and wrapped the both of us in a silky white scarf.
