Persistence

Mcleod Ganj

14 04 2008

The guy in the photos above runs the busy Ten Yang Coffee House right near the main Tibetan Buddhist temple. Monks and westerners, young Tibetans and Indians all hang out here. The two sides of his t-shirt said a whole lot to me. The side I noticed first says “Stop Killing in Tibet”. But the front of the tshirt is a picture of Tintin and the words, “Tintin in Tibet”. The guy wearing it is beaming a big smile. It amazes me how the Tibetans can smile, can be part of the fun-loving world and at the same time fight to end the suffering of their family back home, and the destruction of their nation and culture.

There are so many Tibetans in Mcleod Ganj, the Indians you see give you the impression of being immigrants. In the restaurants, the owners might be Tibetan but the kitchen staff and bus boy will be a young Indian kid.

Mcleod Ganj has been the residence-in-exile of His Holiness the Dalai Lama since 1960. Its a small town in the mountains filled with Buddhist monks and nuns (not all actually Tibetan), Tibetan refugees, other Tibetans who were born here, Indians who have come here for work (many from Kashmir), and lots of Western students, seekers, tourists and “travellers”.

I dont know if I am a traveller of not, I guess I am. But usually they have braided hair and flowing multicoloured blouses or skirts. And that’s just the guys! Well, not quite, but whatever the traveller is, he or she has a lot of options for breakfast: omlettes, toast, real coffee, muesli, even bacon and ham — all things that are pretty rare in India away from ‘traveller’ restaurants. A traveller is not simply someone who travels, they are part of a subculture. Its very Goa, Gokarna, Hampi. Its a backpacky, hippy-ish thing. And toast and pasta and hash and motorbike thing. I really dont know much about it, or many real travellers, so dont take my word on it.

In Mcleod there are lots of types of Westerners. College kids, young seekers doing meditation or yoga or reiki classes. Older seekers who didnt find the answers already I guess ;-) Plus regular tourists. It all gives the place a really nice feel actually, this mix of seekers, monks, locals. Its got a cafe culture and you see lots of people hanging out together discussing or laughing together. I think the prize for some of the (very attractive) young western women is… a Tibetan boyfriend. The locals seem willing to oblige. I overheard three American girls in the Peace Cafe. “He’s not only Tibetan [which was clearly enough from the tone], he’s hot!”. And they are.

Mcleod is refreshingly cool, compared to the other parts of India that I have been. Two sweaters at night, a tshirt in the day. Its great temperature to go for walks, and I did lots of walking. To waterfalls just out of town, up into the mountains a little. I missed out on a small trek to Triund, because the weather was stormy on my last day.

Of course the main event at the moment is the Tibet protests. But I dont feel I know enough about whats going on here to do justice to the subject. There are nightly candle-lit processions through town. There is a hunger strike outside the temple. There are larger protests planned for when the Olympic torch comes to Delhi. There have been arrests, some Westerners among them. India forbade Tibetans from protesting against China when it gave them asylum.

The Dalai Lama is in Seattle and doing a lecture tour in the US now.

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Tags: Dalai Lama, Dharamsala, India, Mcleod Ganj, Tibet, Tintin, travellers, tshirt
Categories : India

Dharamsala – getting there

12 04 2008

Dharamsala, actually Mcleod Ganj just up the steep road. Not feeling the best. I think it was the travel the last few days. On the way to Amritsar the train was really drafty – there’s no glass on the windows, only metal bars. For 8 hours a very strong hot, then cold, draft – plus fans overhead. Drafts kill me. They are my Achilles heel. Not that I am the Achilles of travellers. Amritsar was so enjoyable I forgot about feeling a bit off – but the bus trip out of there, towards Dharamsala was harsh. It was supposed to be 7 hours but ended up over 9. Its not really the time, its the discomfort factor. Regular buses have little suspension, little padding on the seats, plus I dont really fit in them. (In some buses when I stand my head hits the roof. When its crowded I can support myself by pressing my head into the roof, but its torture) At least I had a seat this time albeit a few inches too close to the seat in front. If there is no-one beside me its ok, i can move my legs a bit. At first there wasnt anyone but then they piled in and the bus got crammed. 5 people in the space my mind says is for 3. Now you’ve got an Indian bus ride. For some reason the driver didnt make a pit-stop. Iron Bladder. You learn to control how much water you drink just in case. In fact we did stop at a bus station about half-way, but the conductor didnt let any of us leave the bus. He blew his fierce whistle at all of us when we tried, gesturing we were about to leave. Then we sat in our seats at the station for 10 minutes. But who can chance it? Your bag is tied to the roof of the bus. And the conductor wasnt very communicative lets say. I thought – oh i guess we’ll stop at a restaurant along the way, as they often do. There was no restaurant though, no stop, no relief. Usually they go to a really disgusting place, after you have passed a few cheerful looking roadside restaurants. Clearly the driver or conductor is getting some baksheesh (tip, kickback) from the restaurant. Our bus was mostly foreign tourists. Was this intentional I wondered, or maybe the driver just wanted to get home faster?

But no matter how they rushed we were out of luck. The last 20km took 3 hours! Thats what killed me. We got stuck in a traffic jam — who knew there was “traffic” in a resort mountain village near Dharamsala? Completely stuck. Buses, mopeds, motorbikes, bikes, cars, pedestrians across the whole road, trying to move in both directions but completely stopped. For about an hour. Sometimes the drivers shut off their engines, or started them up to move a meter. No sign of police to sort out the mess. In fact there was probably only a couple hundred vehicles but the chaos was the problem. And no-one would give an inch. Locals stood on the side of the road and the bridge to observe it all, their eyes, and the drivers eyes popping out of their heads when they saw the foreign women on my bus. Sitting in this scrum was toxic. My lungs ache. I feel like I smoked a pack and a half of cigarettes. There was a fair in town it turned out. Or a demo.

Finally, out of this jam and one bus later I made it to Mcleod Ganj. Aryan, my friend from the ashram in Kerala met me in the main square. Aryan is a Reiki Master and yoga teacher here. The place was really quiet, though it was only 9.30pm. Aryan said its because its been a lot wetter than usual and there’s less tourists, but also because foreigners dont want to come because of the Tibet Demonstrations. Those are peaceful, its not a safety issue, but according to Aryan, if the Indian Government finds a foreigner participating in the demos, that person will be put on a list and never get another visa to return to India. I think a lot of foeriegn visitors to Dharamsala are regular visitors coming for the meditation centres and Tibetan culture. As much as they may support the cause they wouldnt want to be shut out of India for life.

I follow that that cardinal rule of travel when far from home, up there with dont drink the water — avoid demonstrations, protests, rallies. In fact I havent seen one here yet. I think they happen at night, by candle-light but I have been sleeping a lot more than usual.

When I feel a bit more umff I’ll be off to explore this beautiful place.

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Tags: annoyances, bus, Dharamsala, India, iron bladder, Mcleod Ganj, road
Categories : India

Amritsar – Punjab

11 04 2008

Amritsar is the friendliest place I have visited since Kerala. People here seem happy. Total strangers come up to me to say hi, and they really mean it. I feel like I am visiting a big family. And even the touts take no for an answer.

Amritsar is a holy city, the site of the Sikh Golden Temple, its also a modern-feeling place. A lot of Sikhs emigrated to Canada, UK and other countries, and many seem to return for visits or send money home. Punjab is the richest state in India I was told, and no doubt all that foreign money coming back is a part of the reason.

The Golden Temple is stunning. The atmosphere inside the complex is magical, many have travelled thousands of miles to visit. Beautiful music, chanting and kirtan plays, and when you go inside the main temple you realize it is being sung live by the priests there. The temple seems to float above a large pond. Its a large building coated in gold and the shimmering reflection in the pond is transfixing. The temple is open to all, but I seemed to be the only white visitor when I was there. People were so friendly, coming up to say hello. One man said ‘Thank-you for visiting our temple’. The visitors to the temple walk around the outside of the pond. Some bathe in it. Then they take an offering into the temple. There’s also a place to eat, and the food is free – a simple and delicious meal of dal (lentil stew), rice and chapati (flatbread). Its quite something the efficiency with which they feed thousands — seating them, serving them, clearing the hall, washing all the dishes and the place runs 24 hours a day! You sit on the floor and they come around with stainless steel buckets of food, dropping the bread into your outreached hands.

You only wonder what India would be like if the efficiency cleanliness they have in this temple were applied to the roads and railways! What a wonderful world it would be.

The young people here seem quite modern, and wear their relative prosperity easily. A lot seem part of the MTV nation, but dont seem to be pretending to be anything other than they are, modern Indians. Their colourful headgear marks them distinctly as Sikh, and gives them an identity much more striking than the generic MTV t-shirt and jeans brigade that is everywhere in the world these days.

You hear Bhangra everywhere, a really distinctive Punjabi style of music and the one that has had most success in the pop music in Europe and Canada. When you go to an Indian-themed dance party in the West, Bhangra is most likely what you’ll hear.

Photos

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Tags: Amritsar, Golden Temple, India, Punjab, Sikh
Categories : India

Varanasi

3 04 2008

It’s very intense here. Filthy, smoky (from cremations), cows and sadhus cram the streets. I like it but I think if I hadn’t got used to travelling in India it might have freaked me out. Everywhere guys are trying to sell me hash. I can’t think of anything worse, its trippy enough already.

Even after 3 months of being in India I find it overwhelming. You can’t walk a minute without someone trying to grab your attention to sell you something. Hello, boat? Boat? Hash? Hello? Where are you going? What are you looking, sir? Still, as you are hardening to it all, a small child will catch you unaware with a completely genuine cry of “Hello – what’s your name?” With a smile that melts your heart. Completely open and innocent.

I think I am the only white person in this city without an SLR camera. It’s a bit weird. Thousands of normal (extremely poor) people going about their lives and hundreds of tourists trying to photograph them at it. Many of these people have no water in their homes, some have no homes, so they are bathing in the river. And we are photographing them with equipment worth more than their entire belongings. I find it a bit disturbing, but of course I am a part of the parade.

Varanasi is an intensely holy city. Its position on the Ganges, the most holy river in India for Hindus, brings pilgrims, sadhus (holy men usually in orange robes), and people who wish to die here, or be cremated here. It all happens on the banks of the river, on steps or The Ghats. Mostly people come to bathe in the water. Some out of necessity, others as a holy rite. The water is septic, utterly filthy, with raw sewage but also chemicals from factories upstream. It doesn’t seem to stop many.

Cremation on the banks of the Ganges is as good as it gets for Hindus. Canadian families of Indian descent will bring ashes of loved ones to the river to scatter them. My guest house is close to the most famous “burning ghat”, where the cremations take place on huge piles of wood. It’s a bit gruesome, but on the other hand I find the open approach to death ultimately more healthy than the approach in the West which is to hide it and try to deny it ever happened. Still, when you walk through the smoke from these enormous pyres its pretty disgusting, I gotta say.

I don’t get it, people shit and piss in the open, are cremated openly, yet you never see a couple kissing or even a married couple holding hands. That is taboo. We all living by these rules about what is OK and what isn’t OK in public, but it seems so arbitrary, so ridiculous. Not just here, but everywhere.

Away from the river, the Old City is a maze of narrow ancient and filthy streets. Among the crowds of people are hundreds of soldiers and police in brown uniforms with rifles and machine guns slung over their shoulders. They are here because the most important Hindu temple of Varanasi is here, and there is always the chance extremist Muslims will want to blow it up. In front of every alleyway and street leading to the temple are 10 or so soldiers looking like they mean business. I saw a soldier scan a schoolboys little knapsack on his back with one of those airport scanners. To the boy it seemed routine, but to me a depressing situation. It’s disgusting to see religion hijacked by radical elements. You almost want to do away with all religions if they can’t get along peacefully.

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Tags: arati, bathe, Benares, burning ghats, Ganga, Ganges, ghat, India, rite, river, taboo, touts cremation, Varanasi
Categories : India

Jodhpur – Rajastan

30 03 2008

Jodhpur is a hot, dusty city dominated by a looming Mughal fort. Today it was 39 degrees. There is still a Maharajah living in the fort, though with a lot less power than back in the day. The fort is a charm to visit with a decent audio tour. The town below is washed in blue mostly. Tourism hasnt completely wrecked the place, people still say hello in the street, and even when they dont want to sell you water, postcards, memory cards, cloth, shoes, souvenirs etc etc etc.

Appartly Rajastan is one place they wont screen Jodhaa Akbar, because the Rajputs (thats the local Maharajas) dont like the way it tells their story. I guess they still have some power if they can stop the movie being shown here.

Spent Day 2 here vomiting, maybe the heat of 40 degrees or the butter saffron lassi last night. Bleh.

Photos

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Tags: India, Jodhpur, Rajastan
Categories : India

Jaipur – Rajastan

30 03 2008

Its a big city, over 3 million, laid out on a grid with wide avenues called bazaars that are lined with shops. The buildings are mostly pink in this sandy, dusty, noisy and polluted but still charming city.

I wish I enjoyed shopping more. Its interesting looking into the shops, generally they sell one thing – lentils, spices, cloth, rubber tires, even bananas – rather than a selection of stuff. But once you step in they are all over you unwrapping item after item.

Photos

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Tags: India, Jaipur, Rajastan
Categories : India

Advanced Teachers Training Course – Sivananda Ashram

29 03 2008

Satsang at sunrise by the lake, Neyyar Dam

I didn’t have much free time to take photos of life at the Ashram, but I posted a few on flickr. And don’t miss Rishi’s beautiful photos of the ashram and the courses.

You’ll get the idea of what it was like, except for the waking up at 4am part, I don’t think there are too many photos of that.

If you want more info on staying at the ashram look here – I redesigned the Ashram website, and 8 other sites in India for all the ashrams and centres.

http://www.sivananda.org/neyyardam

http://www.sivananda.org/india