Mustang

So I am back from Mustang. In fact, I’m back in Delhi. Here goes nothing…

(And this post is going to be full of parentheses. I’ll leave out the town names, and put up a map with our theoretical route when/if I can.)

Our group (sans Darby, who is now feeling better) just spent twenty days trekking in a remote area of Nepal in order to further explore Tibetan culture. Mustang, or, technically, the Kingdom of Mustang (formerly the Kingdom of Lo) lies on the other side of the Himalayas from Tibet. It was historically a Tibetan kingdom (with a king and everything—more on that later) that later got absorbed into modern Nepal.

The odd thing about Mustang (u as in “moo” and a as in “ball”—“Moo Stahng”) is still culturally Tibetan. It’s like a tiny pocket of untouched Tibetan culture that is outside of Tibet (and outside of the Tibetan community-in-exile) and, in many ways, outside of Nepal. The people of Mustang, especially upper Mustang (where we were fortunate enough to go) speak Tibetan, look Tibetan, live like Tibetans used to live, eat Tibetan food, and wear Tibetan clothing (especially the older people). Until the early 1990s, Mustang was a restricted area of Nepal. No foreigners were allowed in. Then the government opened the area to foreigners—with hefty permit fees (now US $750) and a limit on the number allowed in. The limit was set at about 1,000 people per year, and only this year has that limit been increased; actually, as far as I can tell, the limit has been unofficially yet effectively dropped. This has—for obvious reasons, I hope—had a huge impact on the lives of the people in Mustang. Modernity has been slow to come here.

Mustang is also famous for another reason. After the Chinese invaded Tibet, some Tibetans, mainly nomads from the eastern region of Kham (modern-day Sichuan province in China where the earthquake happened earlier this year)—therefore called “Khampas”—started guerilla warfare against the PLA (People’s Liberation Army). Many were actually trained by the CIA (yes, that’s us) in Hawai’i. They took refuge in Mustang and had several bases there. A small claim to fame for Mustang, but an important one. The Karmapa Lama also escaped through Mustang when he came to India in the not-too-distant-past.

I meant to try to keep some sort of journal to keep track of where we went and what we did, but I’m absolutely horrible about things like that and ended up writing nothing. This will be my attempt at an exhausted recollection five days after the trip and right before a 37 hour train ride to south India. (More on that later).

So we took a bus from the Kathmandu valley to a town called Pokhara. Pokhara is sort of the last-stop before many of the major trekking areas of Nepal. I guess I forgot to mention that Nepal is famous (and gets most of its money from) the trekking industry. The areas we went to in Mustang were part of the Annapurna circuit, also known as the Annapurna Conservation Area. Mt. Annapurna is huge. Right up there with Everest (which was not far from us).

From Pokhara we took a tiny plane (and by tiny, I mean tiny. See picture) to Jomsom (Jomosom by some spellings). We had to leave our hotel in Pokhara at 6 a.m. (woke up at 4:30) to get to the airport so the plane could leave ASAP. The planes leave that early because it gets too windy to fly later. Believe me, it was one of those “the earlier the better” situations. It was probably the most terrifying plane ride I’d ever had. We didn’t even have to really make a descent when we landed—the runway came up to us. When we go to Jomosom, we had tea and started walking.

I have to add that we didn’t make this trip alone. There were twenty-five students. There was one of our main teachers (the other one, who is pregnant, wisely chose to stay behind in Kathmandu (our teachers are married and have a daughter and live in Kathmandu when not doing this program—one is Spanish, the other American)), Tenzin the program assistant, Tinley the Nepal Tibetan language teacher (though we never actually had classes), Phuntsok the former program assistant, and Dilly the Nepali who just finished his masters in Norway and did his thesis on socio-economics in Mustang. There were Sherpas (guides, basically) and porters (who carried a ton of our shit) totaling to about thirty—people who led the way, cooked for us, set up tents, made tea, washed dishes, cared for the animals, everything. We also had about twenty mules to carry all of our gear and food and other stuff. We literally had a caravan—and without them, this trip wouldn’t have happened. The leader of the group, Anyima-la, is a Sherpa and had probably the coolest voice ever. Think Louis Armstrong with a touch of laryngitis. Awesome awesome awesome.

The food we had started out really good (and was probably really good the whole time), but it got old after a while. We had eggs in some form (usually hard-boiled) along with a form of bread (toast, pancake, sometimes porridge) every morning. We had so many god damned potatoes that we were all sick of them by the end. Lots of local meat, mainly goat.

Let’s just get it out there that it’s good that I like to take pictures of landscapes and eventually want to be some sort of nature photographer. The landscapes were infinitely beautiful—I’ve never seen mountains of this scale in my life. Where we were was more impressive (and deeper) than the Grand Canyon, if you can believe it. Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, two of the largest mountains in the Himalayas, rise to about 26,000 feet (Mt. Everest is about 29,000). Between them run the Kali Gandaki river. When the Indian sub-continent crashed into Asia millions of years ago and began pushing up towards the sky what we know today as the Himalayas, the Kali Gandaki started carving out its path that eventually led to the deepest gorge in the world.

This fact, combined with the fact that Mustang is essentially a desert, made the trip that much more interesting. Yes, there is a desert in the Himalayas. We saw no rain or snow in the twenty days we were there, and they get only (very roughly) about 780mm of snow a year and around 560mm of rain. (I saw these numbers somewhere, and they could be reversed, but you get the picture). That is not a lot of precipitation. Most of the vegetation, except for the random birch trees around water sources/creeks, was a variety of thorny bushes. And no desert is complete without sand and rocks, which is exactly the terrain that we walked on every single day. I saw two horny-type lizards, and there were buzzards (great for sky-burials, which we didn’t get to witness) and eagles. Also tons of sheep, but more on that later. Most people get their water from the Kali Gandaki or a tributary/creek coming in/out of it. The Kali Gandaki’s waters flow from Tibet.

We stopped in countless “bhattis” along the way. “Bhatti” is the Nepali word for the equivalent of a tea house. These villages cater to trekkers. Groups stop along the way, have tea (prepared by their Sherpas or by the bhatti owner for a fee), then move on. If they reach a village around nightfall, most stay for the night. Every village had a camping area, which was basically a rock walled-in area for tents. This is type of place we stayed every night. Many of the villages also had some small hotels with names like “Annapurna Hotel.” More on this later, as well.

The pinnacle of our trip was the city (village) of Lo Manthang. The ancient “walled city” is sort of the capital of Mustang, and is where the king’s (yes, king) palace is. We spent about five days here. We got an audience with the Raja, the king of Mustang. He doesn’t really have any real power anymore—the new Maoist government of Nepal “kindly” said that he won’t have control over anything, and is more of a symbol. However, the people he represents still respect and honor him. Local disputes are usually taken care of by the people in the village. If they can’t resolve it themselves, it eventually ends up at the hands of the king BEFORE it goes to the local police or the government of Nepal. The people of Mustang are essentially left alone to do what they want as long as they don’t cause any trouble. They pay no taxes and get basically no help from the government. The king of the Kingdom of Mustang (formerly Lo, again) is probably in his seventies and just sat and clicked mala beads the whole time. The audience was basically a Q & A session, and he gave very “kingly” answers such as “yes” and “no.” Nonetheless, it was an interesting experience.

I’m writing my second paper on electricity in Lo Manthang. It was quite a project to get electricity in these rural areas. Most people in every village use solar panels for their electricity, the usage of which is usually limited to a few light bulbs and maybe a TV/VCR if the person is exceptionally wealthy. The solar panels charge what are basically extra-fancy car batteries. In Lo Manthang and in a few other villages, however, there is also a very small hydropower plant. The one in Lo Manthang produces about 30KW of power. But in the winter, the river freezes over and the plant produces no power (luckily, most people leave so there isn’t a need for it). The two people I interviewed for my paper (which I’ll post later when it’s done) said that electricity has become more of a necessity than a luxury now. People pay about 1 rupee per watt, so it’s a pretty fair system—you get what you pay for. There are no meters, but people come and count how many light bulbs, etc., that you have in your house. The ACAP (Annapurna Conservation Area Project) office, a branch of which was in Lo Manthang and had internet—15 Nepali rupees per minute—is helping to electrify the area. They subsidize the solar panels and so the people only have to pay for their transportation from Pokhara.

Lo Manthang is about three hours by horse from the Tibet (China)/Nepal border. Many of the goods in the town are imported from China (now that the border has been opened a tiny bit since the Olympics). I heard from one local that Chinese soldiers come to Lo Manthang about once a month…

I forgot to mention a small detail. A couple of days before we reached Lo Manthang, I had a great experience with a little friend named giardia. Yep, I got giardia while in rural Nepal. It might have been from something I ate in Kathmandu, but there’s no way to know. I got to take Flagyl, a medicine that had a nice warning on the back that basically said “don’t take this unless you really have to, because the rats and mice we gave it to all got cancer.” Anyway, the sulfur/rotten egg burps and random bathroom runs were symptoms enough for them to give it to me. Many people ended up getting it in some form or other by the end of the trip, but I think it was agreed that I definitely had it the worst. Sweet? I got to ride a horse for a couple of days, though. I can now quietly literally and honestly say that “I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name.” I’m better now, though apparently I look much thinner and probably lost ten or fifteen pounds mainly because I had absolutely no appetite after I got sick(due to the medicine probably and the food possibly) when we were hiking for about 6-7 hours every day with one 11 hour day thrown in.

Also, there were huge Tibetan mastiffs in most villages used as guard dogs. Actually, most of them were very nice. One of them followed behind us for about a mile after a day trip to some other caves that were hand-carved into the side of the canyon in which people used to live.

During the trek we had three lectures on Tantra (a.k.a. Vajrayana), the third prominent category of Tibetan Buddhism. It’s pretty crazy and really interesting; I won’t go into it here, because most of you readers don’t know anything/enough about Buddhism for it to make any sense to you (no offense).

Mustang predominately (and almost exclusively) follows the Sakya sect of Buddhism. We visited many monasteries and temples, and there were stupas and chhortens all around. The three colors of the three main deities of Tibet—red for Manjushri, the deity of wisdom; white for Chenrezig (Avalokitesvara), the deity of compassion whom the Dalai Lama is said to be an incarnation of; and grey for Prajnapani (spelling?), the deity of power—were on every chhorten, building, everything. Painted on homes, doors, walls, you name it.

We got to visit the three monasteries/temples in Lo Manthang. Thubchen and Jampa temples had been monasteries, but there were no longer monks there. They were built in the 15^th century and 1387 CE, respectively. We weren’t allowed to take pictures inside of any of them, but you’ll have to believe me when I say that these places were old. Old. Statues and wall paintings that were hundreds of years old. It was quite a sight. The only monastery with a monastic community was Chhyode Gompa (gompa=monastery in Tibetan), with about 85 monks. Most of them go to Kathmandu in the winter as well. They are only able to be there through foreign donations (about $400 a year per monk, or whatever you want to donate).

We visited many other monasteries throughout the trip. One Sakya monastery had mandalas painted all over the walls. There was an area in another that the girls weren’t allowed to go. It was a temple for some sort of protector deities. There were guns, swords, a shield and chain mail from probably before the renaissance. There was also a dried up, real hand hanging on the wall. I can’t explain how cool it was. It had a ring on it, and the wrist bones were still sticking out. It was crazy, and really awesome. Also, more crumbling metal deity statues from who knows when. God I wish I could have taken pictures.

The Mustang area still has remnants of the former religion of Tibet, Bön, many practices of which got absorbed into and adapted by Buddhism when it became popular. For example, on the last day we were in Lo Manthang, we saw a special puja (in real short, a spiritual offering/worship ceremony) for the people who were leaving the town for the winter. It was called the Mahakala Puja, and the monks do it once a year. It’s the last ceremony/festival of the year, the day after which most people leave. [It gets too cold in Mustang for everyone to stay, and there usually isn’t enough food for them to stay anyway. So basically, the older people stay and take care of the little kids who also stay in Lo Manthang (the same applies for most of Mustang) while the middle aged people go to Pokhara or Kathmandu or sometimes India to sell sweaters. The people who stay behind survive on dried meat (usually yak, maybe goat) and grains for the winter. The old people sleep late during this time. Hah.] This ceremony has almost nothing to do with Buddhism—it’s an obvious example of how Bön and local practices got absorbed when Buddhism came about. It happens right after the last harvest and right before people leave; Buddhist ceremonies don’t really work like this. In short, they chased three demons out of the village and destroyed three sacrificial cakes (instead of animals—an example of Buddhism adopting and changing a local practice).

One thing that I’ve yet to mention is probably one of the most amazing: the stars. A few years ago in high school when I was going to go to Nepal on the trek through the Asian Studies teacher Dr. Neralich, he told us that the stars in this area (we were going to the Dolpo, which I learned is the restricted area neighboring Mustang) were the most impressive and beautiful that we had or will ever see. I truly believe him now. He said that they were bright enough to read by, and he was absolutely right. I have never, ever seen so many stars in my life. You could even unmistakably see the Milky Way in a strip going across the sky. It’s the one time that I could say that my headlamp (which I lost after the first day) was hurting my night vision because the stars were so bright. It’s also the one time on the trip I really wished I had brought a tripod to take pictures of them. If it hadn’t have been so cold, we would have stood and watched them for hours. It’s one of those things that I won’t ever be able to do justice to with words alone. You have to see it to understand. At that elevation, the stars actually flickered like satellites. Almost all of them. All of this occurred at above 3000 meters, peaking at about 3800m. This is about 13000 feet. Fayetteville is at something like 1400. We almost went through a 4700m (15400 ft) pass, but decided to go another way. Needless to say, the air was thin and the ground was high—close to space, close to the stars, away from any city lights or air pollution of any sort.

Another sight in Lo Manthang was a bit more…uneasy on the eyes. We got to see two yaks get slaughtered. Yep, yaks. Think “fucking huge cows with more hair and larger horns” to get a picture. Four families pooled their money to buy two yaks for meat, etc., probably for the older people for the winter. They did the dirty work right after breakfast. I walked over as they were killing them. One was already dead, but the other was still struggling. They killed them by suffocation—something in the nose, a rope tied around the muzzle and neck—so they didn’t waste any blood or anything. And they didn’t waste anything. Guts, blood, skin and all—it was all put to use. The butchering was actually much easier to watch than the killing, which I guess is understandable—they weren’t suffering by that point.

We also took an optional day trip from one of the villages on the way back to Lori Gompa, which is a monastery (no longer active) that is situated in CAVES. Yes, it’s a cave monastery. How cool is that. It also has the oldest painted frescoes in Nepal. I snuck a couple of pictures (actually, I was given mixed messages—some people said I could take pictures, some said I couldn’t).

The people in Mustang should be commended for how they live. They have harsh, difficult lives. They still practice subsistence farming, they don’t use electricity except for light bulbs (occasionally), they have to leave their homes in the winter. Water is in short supply. They know about modern things, but don’t have most of them. They have basically no variety in their diet. It was such an experience to see how they live, and to see historical Tibetan culture alive as well.

The above doesn’t do justice to the trip, and I don’t think my words will ever be able to. It was long and hard and miserable at times, but it was completely worth it. Let me know if you want more details about anything, and I’m sorry if it’s been scattered.

After a couple of terrifying flights back to Kathmandu, we got things together, took another shower, ate some awesome food and watched the election at a watch party at the American club at the embassy. I’m pretty sure every single person (including myself) that was there was rooting for Obama. There is only one kid in our group who was pro-McCain. It’s an election that I won’t forget—watching it the next morning local time in a foreign country at a US embassy was quite interesting. Many people started crying when Obama won—it was a very emotional place. Also, if you didn’t watch his acceptance speech, I suggest that you do. It was probably the best speech I’ve ever heard, especially coming from a politician. In the Kathmandu airport on the way to Delhi (where Darby and I are now), there were some British and people of other nationalities talking about how glad they were that he won. Basically, the rest of the world is happy that he did. India is ecstatic. We got a newspaper that essentially had an Obama front page and entire section. It had one of the most praising editorials I’ve ever read, and it was all about Obama. There hasn’t been a landslide like this since pretty much forever. I’m so glad it happened—now we can come home without worrying about it!

So Darby and I are in Delhi, and leave on a 37 hour train ride in a couple of hours. We’re going to south India to one of the largest monastic universities in the world to do our independent study projects for a month. More on that later.

"It's time to move on, time to get going/ What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing"

I'm finishing writing the proposal for my independent study project. That said, this will be short.

We went to get a blessing from a high lama for protection, etc., yesterday. It was a really cool experience.

We're leaving for Mustang in less than an hour. It's going to be cool (literally and figuratively), though Darby is sick and has to stay here in Kathmandu. Bah! No phone, internet, electricity, or civilization as we know it for the next three weeks. YEAH.

"What has protein? Broccoli?"

Disclaimer: I'm going to try to make up for the lack of pictures in my last two posts.

Monday, 6 October 2008

First: retroactive pictures from His Holiness' temple in Dharamsala:

Thangkas of, I think, the previous Dalai Lamas.

Big Buddha statue behind his throne.

So I'm sitting on a train going back to Delhi. Trains in India are definitely an experience. "No, middle-aged Indian man, I do not have a ticket, so there" is the story of our life. We supposedly get to Delhi at 4:45 a.m. We have that day free in Delhi, and then the next afternoon we fly to Kathmandu. A week in Kathmandu and then we go to Mustang. Excitement. I can't believe how fast this has gone by--it really doesn't seem like it's been five weeks. Maybe two? Three? It's still so weird that I won't be in Dharamsala anymore. It's been my home for over a month, and by the end I really didn't want to leave.

Again, I highly, highly, highly recommend studying abroad/traveling/living in another country, especially one that isn't based on western traditions (read: most of Asia). It's so incredibly interesting to be in a culture that is the opposite of your own. Everything is so different here. Even the nutrition facts are different--you can find out how much 'Energy' in kcal you get in each certain amount of grams. Also, Indian drivers are way better than American ones (I think I've said this before. . . oh well). If you stuck an American on the roads here, not even considering the other drivers, the American would last maybe a mile. Not joking. (Sorry, mom.)

The past few days have been crazy. A paper due on Wednesday, a presentation on Thursday, a couple of other little assignments here and there, a big language test on Sunday as well as the first test for lecture. That wouldn't usually be too bad, except that we are expected to spend so much time with our families. My family is great (more on that later) and of course I'd like to sit and watch silly Indian TV and make small talk with them. I think we all have felt a little overwhelmed lately--all of this work combined with needing to spend time with our homestays is a little much.

So it's been a while since I updated; this is probably going to be long. First, the Mini-ISP to Tso Pema.

We left D/sala at 5 a.m. by "tourist vehicle" (taxi), and got there a little after 11. Tsering la, one of the program assistants and language teachers, had to stop and throw up a couple of times along the way. Anyone in our group who gets even remotely carsick gets sick every time we ride on these roads. Tso Pema is a pilgrimage site for both Hindus and Sikhs and Buddhists alike (see previous post). It's a pretty small town, with the main attractions being the three small Buddhist monasteries (two Kagyu and one Nyingma), a Hindu and Sikh temple, and the caves of Padmasambhava.

It was a beautiful place, though I'd envisioned a pristine blue lake and extraordinary caves in the hillside, etc. What I found out was that it's not the facilities or the small, green 'lake' itself that makes the place holy. It was a 'duh' moment. We found out when we got there that we were still going to have language class. What? One language teacher went with each of the five groups (to translate, we thought), but it was also apparently so that we could have class. I didn't bring my language book, and neither did about four or five of the other students. None of us knew we would have class as well as our weekly languange test on Sunday. What a rip-off.

Little monks. Self-explanatory.

We drove up to the caves where Padmasambhava is said to have meditated, etc. His footprint was in the side of one of the caves. Judge for yourselves. We picked up a really nice old man who needed a ride back to Tso Pema. He lives up on the hillside and is the caretaker of what is thought to be Padmasambhava's back. He sat and did mantras with his mala beads the whole ride down, and looked as if he had not a care in the world. He was genuinely happy; we tend to keep running into that here, especially among the older Tibetans. Again, the nicest people I've ever met. Period.

We ate at the same restaurant four times (I think). They had two of the best things ever--tomato and cheese grilled sandwiches and nutella crepes. What? It was called the Kora Community Cafe. Kora is the Tibetan term for when you circumambulate around the outside of a holy lake, monastery, temply, stupa, etc. The cafe was right at the end of the Kora of Tso Pema, and was frequented by westerners (and Israelis, which I tend to group with westerners for some reason since they are "Enjis" as well. (Enji=Tibetan term for foreigner/white boy).


This is Pema Tso (Tso Pema backwards? Seems fishy, but could be totally legitamate). Darby saw a printed-out flyer of someone wanting to practice their english conversation skills, and so we called it. This girl showed up, and gave us a lot of good info for our field notes. She's 23 (24 by Tibetan measurement, which I didn't know was any different--apparently they start measuring age from conception instead of birth). Very nice, very shy. We met her again the next day. She'd been in Tso Pema for 5 months and taught Tibetan grammar at one of the Kagyu monasteries.


Picture break:

The Nyingma monastery we stayed at had the largest butter lamps I'd ever seen.

Cool door, basically.


Hand-painted. Ring bell to enter.

India has the most impressive statues ever.

I found a yellow hat!


Darby and I went to talk to someone at one of the Kagyu monasteries. We talked to the General Secretary, who spoke awesome English. We got tons of info from him (yes, this field trip involved work too), and at the end asked if we could see the monks doing puja.

Puja is the term for, basically, a ceremonial offering/group prayer & chanting/something like that. People request puja from the monastery and pay for it. It's sort of like lighting a devotional candle (I think that's what it's called) at church. People request it for a variety of reasons--their brother is sick, someone died, etc. But the thing is, they never (or usually never) ask for it specifically for one person or anything like that. They ask for the puja to be for all sentient beings, and even though they may be thinking they're doing it for a loved one or whomever, they don't actually say it. Some may request it for "my sick brother and all sentient beings," but even that is rare, he said. Very interesting way of looking at it. We only caught the last five minutes or so of it, though. But the crazy thing was that while we were watching the monks (from 4 to elderly) read from texts, play the crazy horn things, hit the drums and use the cymbals, a couple of younger monks went around handing out food to the other monks. Then they gave us each a bag. Yes, the monks who survive basically just through donations, gave us some of their much needed food. They did it without hesitation, and they did it with the best of intentions. These people are so unselfish and so generous it's ridiculous. Those are two things I'm going to miss when I go home. [Then we went and gave money at the front of the temple. (That box of apple juice made my day)].



We went to an assembly of the local Indian school. A girl from our group (Sally) had gone to ask questions about the education in Tso Pema (we each had our own little topic in addition to religion to investigate, mine being geography/environment), and, long story short, all six of us ended up at a school assembly where the students learned about/commemorated the whole India-British independence thing. It was kind of weird, but really funny. As the guest of honor, Sally had to give a speech. It was as ridiculous as you might think it was.


Picture break:

The little kids playing around the monastery were having a great time with us.


View from the top of the mountain where the caves were. Foothills of the Himalayas.

To the cave:




Prayer flags galore.




Leftover incense from what our teacher took into the shrine.

Yep.


Shrine to His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama; typical and common.


This is a typical dishwashing station.



I just liked these two.


Scale of the Guru Rinpoche statue.


We came back from Tso Pema on Sunday, had one free day instead of the usual two. On Wednesday the paper was due. Lame.

I bought the new Ben Folds album on iTunes the other day. Thirteen dollars is about 600 rupees, and that is the most expensive thing I've bought since I've been in India. Whoa.

In the past week, Tenzin Tsundue and a nun who was originally from Germany came to speak. Tsundue is a fairly young poet/writer/Tibet activist who gets a considerable amount of attention, and the nun was very interesting--we got to see the westerner-turned-Buddhist nun perspective, one that we don't usually get to see.

I'm disappointed that I haven't gotten to see any of these presidential/vice-presidential debates that have been going on. I mainly just want to watch Sarah Palin make a fool of herself instead of only reading about it. I just hope common sense will prevail in this election. We need some more of that. My ballot better get to me or I'm not going to be a happy Indian camper.


These people work in the basement of Yong Ling, the kindergarten where we had class. They make hand-made beads to sell for profit. The quality is phenomenal.










Yesterday (and the day before), my family had monks come and do puja at their house. The more well-off people sometimes pay monks to come do a personal puja for them for a variety of reasons, my family's reasons being that my amala is about to go to Delhi and sell sweaters until February, and it's for her health and good fortune as well as that of the rest of the family. Also, they like to support the monastic community--if you can, you should is the basic understanding here. About five or six monks were at the house from 7 a.m. until maybe 5 reading/chanting from texts, making tormas (butter sculptures), and many other things that I didn't understand.

Today was a (relatively) lazy day. Woke up to an awesome thunderstorm, then went to the hotel to bring Darby's backpack down for her (she's been sick, and either has "an amoeba" like our good old friend Stephen Coger does, or she has giardia. I don't know which is worse, and they couldn't do a test until today. Obvoiusly no time to go back today, but the medicine they gave her supposedly treats both. Sweet.).

Packing was a chore, but I got it done. I only left one thing, which I guess is good, but it was one of my few long-sleeved layers that I'd planned to take to Mustang, which I guess is bad. Oh well--the rate for the Nepalese currency is about 1:60, so I'll just pick up something (along with a sleeping pad) when we get there.

At about 3 we had a late lunch with my pala, and then at 4:30 we went up to meet the group and say our goodbyes. We were almost late because we were waiting on Khusang, the little girl, to get home from school so we could take pictures. Ended up just going up and catching her on her way down.









I'm going to miss waking up to this.

Me and my family, Stephen Coger and my family.



My pala wouldn't let me carry my backpack up the hill.









Darby, her pala, and Ngawang la, the monk (and soon-to-be-Geshe) who was living with them.









My family, including my amala's elder sister and husband-in-law.




The goodbyes were tearful for many (and maybe the opposite of tearful for some?), and I ended up with four katas--one from my family, one from Darby's pala, one from Ngawang la, the monk and soon-to-be-Geshe who is living with her family and translates for them, and one from our language teachers. These people truly opened up their homes and lives to us for a month and once again made my point about Tibetans being the nicest people ever. They are living in exile in homes usually no bigger than a college dorm room or two, often have less material goods than a college student, and have to deal with their country being lost and their people suffering immensely, yet they are so happy and so, so generous with what they do have. My family had the other Stephen (Stephen "B") over for dinner every single night that he was in D/sala, offered for him to stay with them (us), took him to the hospital when he was sick, and asked me every day if he was coming to breakfast. The same went for Darby--my amala gave her knitting supplies when she showed interest, took her to the hospital as well, and sent me with soup for her when she felt bad. I got both their e-mail and snail-mail addresses, and will definitely keep in touch.

Three of our language teachers (Nyima la, Tsering la, Champa la).

Last crazy jeep ride from Dharamsala.

Bye!

As I'm finishing this, I'm watching fireworks from outside my little train window. It's about to be some sort of holiday, I think. Hmm. No dinner tonight. Also, it's 11:20, and that is way past my bedtime.

It's going to be hot in Delhi. Ah! (If at any time anyone wants me to elaborate on something I've written, just let me know. Just thought I'd throw that out there.)


Wendesday, 7 October 2008

We got to Delhi at about 5 a.m. and made our way to Majnu-ka-tilla, a Tibetan colony where we stayed for the night. We spent the day talking to Geshe la's cousin Pachen about going to south India for our ISPs (you need a permit to go to Mundgod, the Tibetan settlement there where Drepung Loseling Monastery is). Recent news from Mundgod: you must read this.

We spent the day in Delhi with Stephen Coger (our last in Delhi and our last with him until we get home!). It was pretty much amazing. You know why? Because of food.

They have a Subway, a McDonalds, a Sbarro, and a Ruby Tuesday all within 30 feet of each other. So for lunch I had a 6-inch sub (they don't have pork or beef--just lamb salami, roast lamb, chicken ham, etc.--like most restaurants in India), Darby and I split 3 pieces of Sbarro pizza, and we all got soft-serve and chocolate sauce at McDonald's. It was amazing. We were going to go to Ruby Tuesday (just for you, Ryan la) for dinner, but were too full by the time dinner time came.

After lunch we checked out the black market at Nehru Place, where you can buy pretty much anything. I had a headache, so I left early to go with a couple of other people to go to the Lotus Temple. I did buy the PC game BioShock (attn: Troy) for Rs. 100. It didn't work.

The Lotus Temple was amazing. Quite possible one of the most beautiful places of worship I've been to yet. I hadn't heard of the Baha'i religion before I came here, but it seems to be very interesting. You couldn't take pictures inside, which made me unhappy--but oh well. You can't even find any pictures of the inside online. The one to the bottom-left is an aerial shot (not mine, obviously). As you can see, it's shaped like a lotus and has pools of water around it. The lotus is a very prominent symbol in most of Asia, especially Buddhist/Hindu dominant countries. While we were sitting there (you couldn't talk inside), about 5 people came and there was a mini-service. Basically, one person came and sang a song/prayer from each of the major religions (as far as I could tell). It was really moving--the echoes in that building were phenomenal.










(Indian families just ask white people to be in pictures with their families. They don't even want the pictures--they want you to take them on your camera. Ha.)

After that four of us crammed into a rickshaw and spent almost an hour and a half going to the other side of Delhi back to the hotel at Majnu-ka-tilla. Quite the experience, those rickshaws are.

The next day we left at 9 a.m. to go to the Delhi Airport to fly to Kathmandu, Nepal. It was only a 45 minute flight through Jet Airways, and we got moist towels, drinks (and free Heineken. What?) and a really good meal (with nice silverware and napkins). You might get a drink on an American-based airline flight. Crazy.

Delhi is hot, smelly, dirty, and polluted. We have yet to find the "hidden charm" of it.


Friday, 9 October 2008

It's been a while, but I just haven't had time to update anything. Transitioning from India to Nepal wore on all of us, but we made it and it's awesome.

(I'm sitting on the ground outside my hotel room to better pick up the internet. Shakira is playing somewhere loudly. What is the deal with India/Nepal and Shakira? I've also heard Hotel California twice since I've been here. It seems like Asia gets the older and sometimes more ridiculous western songs long after they stop being popular in the West.)
(View from hotel room)

We're staying at Boudha in Kathmandu. The Boudhanath Stupa is right outside our hotel. There are actual relics from the historical Buddha in it--they know because they've had to repair it over the centuries, and they've seen them. Crazy.

It's pretty much amazing. We're going to some private teachings (with a German English-speaking translator who is pretty much the coolest guy ever), but today I'm going with Darby to the hospital.


(This is where our teachings are.)




We go to Mustang in a week. Excitement very soon. Except that two of my camera batteries have been freaking out and I might need to find some more.

The walls of our hotel are crazy-decorated. It's really cool. More on that later.

This is 30 seconds away from me.

Today Was A Good Day (Understatement)

So today I had to wake up and leave early. Normally I would be unhappy about this. However, the reason was a pretty good one: today we went to see His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama give a teaching. Yep. So basically, by default, today was the best day of the trip and is/will be one of the best days in my life. I don't know what else to say.

Well, I guess I do. All you could bring to the teaching was a radio and a cushion, maybe some water/food and a notebook if you wanted. No cell phones, cameras (bah!), voice recorders, anything electronic except a little radio for translation. Heavy security pat-downs at the entrance. We were lucky, though. Two days ago Stephen C. and myself went to the temple to reserve spaces (laying down a blanket and taping papers with our names on it). We originally left our (second) shirts because we didn't have anything else, but came back a little later with a cheap blanket we found. Darby and I got there an hour before the teachings started, but lucky for us the other Stephen had gotten there about 20-30 minutes earlier, thereby making it possible for us to have seats within direct line of sight and within 30 or 40 yards of one of the most revered and influential people on the planet. Most people weren't so lucky (as was almost our case, as the whole reserving thing doesn't work very well).

This teaching was requested by people from Singapore, and was on Je Tsongkhapa's Song of the Stages of the Path to Enlightenment. We got so, so, so lucky. At the beginning of the teaching, His Holiness asked how many people understood English. Most people in the inner temple, the ones who requested the teaching (people mainly from Singapore, Malaysia, and some from Taiwan) spoke English. Since the teaching was primarily for them, he decided to do most of the teaching in his self-proclaimed "broken English." That meant that we didn't have to listen to the little radio translator for the entire morning session, which was amazing. You get so much more out of it when you don't have to listen to a translation that can come sometimes a minute later. In the afternoon session in which he actually gave commentary on the text, he switched to Tibetan. It's understandable--there were probably hundreds of Tibetans in attendance, both monks/nuns and laypeople, and obviously he could better explain the extremely complex text/commentary in his native language.

All of the (good) things that you hear about him are true. His contagious smile, laugh, charisma, everything. Even if my mind wondered and I thought about other things, if he laughed (which he did often), I started laughing with him--as did everyone. I'm so glad I didn't have to watch him on a TV (as many people did) somewhere else in the temple.

The amount of devotion on the part of the Tibetans towards His Holiness was. . . impressive, to say the least. Most wouldn't even look at him, and if they did it was with heads bowed and hands in prayer position. Most of the people around me began doing prostrations towards him as soon as he was within sight, and countless (COUNTLESS) people who passed in front of him (still 30 yards away) bowed/prostrated them selves to him. I don't care about ANYTHING that the Chinese government says about Tibetans not following him. They do, and in full force. There is a shrine to him with his picture and a kata in pretty much every single house/restaurant I go to (including the internet/coffee café that I'm in now). Most people went to the teachings just to SEE him, especially older Tibetans who want to see them before they die. It was powerful and real.

The teachings were from 9:30 to 11 and then from 1 to 2:30. Randomly during his talk in the morning he said "hahaha, ok, now time for tea." IMMEDIATELY, monks came out with huge pots of tea and buckets of bread for everyone. Everyone whipped out their cups/bowls and began passing them to the front to get tea (Tibetan tea in the morning, Indian tea in the afternoon). It was quite a sight.

At break/lunch time, Stephen and I raced to Khana Nirvana, one of the closest places to the temple, to grab some food. Darby stayed (she's still a little sick) and held our spots. Khana Nirvana has "mexican, tex-mex, and nuevo-mexicano" food, as well as an awesome sandwich called "The Mediterranean" that has sauteed eggplant, cheese, onion, lettuce, tomato, and garlic-tofu spread on pita bread. We brought three back. Yum. Most Tibetans stayed for food--either they brought something, or they nabbed some of the HUGE buckets of rice/dal that were brought out again in force by dozens of monks. They were also handing out money to the monastic people--people give lots of donations for these teachings, and since monks have no real source of income, they depend on donations like these for their sustenance. Everyone takes care of everyone here. Even the old women sitting behind us at the teachings were nice enough to offer to set some of our stuff/shoes (which are considered dirty/impolite in this culture) by them since we didn't have much room and tell me when things kept falling out of my pockets. They also offered us their extra bread.

And as usual, His Holiness took questions from the audience and ran over the time planned for it. He was so genuinely interested in people's questions--on a level I'd never encountered before. He didn't even mention the current Tibet-China situation until someone from Taiwan asked about it. He laughed it off, answered it the best he could in the current situation, and moved on. It was, again, impressive.

I still can't believe I spent almost four hours in the direct line of sight and less than 50 yards away from the Dalai Lama. I'm determined to make it happen again. Yep.


Anyway, on to other news. I interviewed the SFT-India president today for a paper we have to write, and he was very interesting and helpful (though my interviewing skills are horrible and I didn't have as many questions as I'd have liked).

Also, tomorrow myself, Darby, four other students and Tsering (one of our language teachers/program assistants) will leave for Tso Pema at 5am. Tso Pema is a pilgrimage place five hours (by car) from here. "Tso" means "lake" in Tibetan, and this site is tied to Padmasambhava (a.k.a. Guru Rinpoche). He was invited to Tibet by the king Trisong Detsen to tame evil deities and is said to be the first person to spread Buddhism in Tibet. His ties with Tso Pema are that "In order to tame the people of Odiyana he returned there disguised as a mendicant but many people recognized him and he was set to be burned alive in a sandalwood fire by a host of evil-minded ministers and people. When the fire was lit, he miraculously transformed the fire into a huge lake filled with lotuses. Sitting himself with consort over a giant lotus in the middle of the lake, the king, ministers, and people were astounded and developed great faith towards him." The myth is that he went from Tso Pema to Tibet to spread Vajrayana Buddhism. I've heard his footprint is there? Crazy. It will be a good, beautiful time whether it's there or not.

So yeah. The students split into five groups to go to to five different places for the next three days, and Tso Pema is where Darby and I are going. We're doing a "mini-ISP" (independent reserach project) to practice for the big one when we're on our own. We have to do field research on the geography, education, health, people, religion, etc., and present it to the group next week. Should be fun, but we'll all be worrying about the impending paper that's due on Wednesday.


Yep. Adventure until Sunday, paper due Wednesday, we leave Dharamsala about a week after that for Nepal. It's going so fast, yet it's so good. I guess I can't complain.
Pictures next time (more from the temple, from Tso Pema, and hopefully more).

Jela jehl yong!

"Just You Regulate Your Hair"

Interesting couple of days. We've had lots of important people come speak to us. The president of the India chapter of SFT (Students for a Free Tibet) came, as well as a couple people from the government-in-exile. A key point from the SFT president was about the Olympics and the "protest zones." You may have heard that China had set up protest zones where people/groups could come and protest during the games. However, you had to apply to get a permit to protest. The reason that there was not a single protest in those zones during the games was not because people had nothing to protest about or that they didn't want to. Many people applied, but NONE of the applications were approved. In fact, the people who applied (if they dared to) were usually arrested/jailed because of it. Just another aspect of China trying to say to the world "why yes, we are modern and genuine--accept us!" that failed miserably even if under the international radar. It's facts like these that the media doesn't relay that really hurts the Tibetan cause. . .

One man who spoke to us was part of the group who went to negotiate with the Chinese (a fruitless endeavor, but he still had the typically Tibetan sense of undying hope). The thing about the current official Tibetan stance is that they are not seeking independence from China, only genuine autonomy with everything except foreign relations and defense. However, the Chinese are so caught up in their power quest that they can't even accept those terms. They could keep the land, keep the maps the same, call the TAR (Tibet Autonomous Region) a part of China, etc., but for some reason those terms are still too "separatist" for them. The middle-way approach of the CTA is as follows: 1) they're not seeking independence, 2) they won't settle with the current situation in Tibet, 3) they want all Tibetan areas to be unified and have the right to decide their own future (except for defense/foreign relations). This last one is key. The northeastern and southeastern areas of traditional Tibet, the provinces of Amdo and Kham, respectively, were the first to be invaded and assimilated into China. Kham is most of modern-day Sichuan province (where the devastating earthquake took place earlier this year), and Amdo is most of Qinghai province. Tibet (modern day TAR) is 50% its original size and 1/3 of its original population. The officials want these areas to be redrawn into the TAR instead of appearing to be part of Chinese China. I understand the difficulty to relinquish control of part (actually, more than 1/3, and getting close to 1/2) of your territory, but this is just ridiculous. The TIbetans are just asking China to follow what is written in their own constitution. It states that minority groups (such as the Tibetans, Uighurs, inner Mongolians, etc.) have the right to maintain their culture, govern themselves (to a limited extent, of course), and more. These groups are not being allowed to practice any of these rights.

Note: 60% of modern China is occupied territory.
For the first time in history, India + China = 1/3 of humanity.
And now, without the peaceful Tibetan buffer zone, they are right next to each other. It used to be that all India needed was a few scruffy border guards along the Himalayan border with Tibet--maybe they needed some slightly warmer clothes. Now they need outpost after outpost, heavy artillery, machine guns and tight rules. That should say something to anyone. China is breathing down India's neck day by day, and they know it.

Lhasang Tsering, a considerably famous and outspoken Tibetan, came to speak yesterday. He's a controversial figure among Tibetans; elected and reelected as the head of the Tibetan Youth Congress, he's against His Holiness' "middle-way" approach (see above) and is the first documented Tibetan to say so. He had an opportunity to go to the U.S. when he was younger--he had a sponsor/scholarship to go to John Hopkins University to study medicine, but he turned it down to join the resistance movement for his country. I recognized him from the movie Cry of the Snow Lion, one of the most accurate and comprehensive documentaries on what has happened in Tibet. He was definitely the best speaker so far--everyone stayed wide awake and there were even a few tears to be heard. There was so, so, so much emotion in everything he said. He broke into tears while telling a story about how, after the U.S. pulled their funding to the Tibetan guerrilla movement in 1972 (after Kissinger and Nixon signed a deal with China), a representative of the Dalai Lama sent a message to the leader of the movement telling them it was time to lay down their arms and end the fight. The leaders committed suicide then and there.

He said that in his view, non-violence can oftentimes equal non-action. He has no problem with non-violence, but he thinks that just yearning for talks and negotiations is futile. "Negotiations sound nice, but where is the need for China to talk...They did not come to help us, they did not come to build roads--they came to stay."

An aspect of the Tibet occupation that most people don't think about is the environmental repercussions it could/will have on the rest of Asia if not the world. China is making, almost literally, a hole in the roof of the world. A main reason goods from China are so cheap is that 1) the workers, at least in the early stages of production, are slave laborers from occupied territories (free), and 2) the raw materials for these goods are coming from occupied territories (free). These facts also apply to Tibet. The Chinese are doing intensive mining for raw materials in once pristine Tibet, and are making quite a mess of it. Also, some decades ago, they discovered a rich Uranium deposit on the Tibetan plateau. They began mining it and selling it to other countries. They could sell it cheaply because they stole it, and they sold it because they very much needed lots of foreign capital. After they sold it, they did something else--they began taking back the waste. It was a win-win for other countries--they got cheap Uranium and didn't have to worry about the waste. It was win-win for China because they made money selling it and made money taking back the waste). It was a lose-lose for Tibet, however. They lost natural resources that they could have sold, and the waste was put back into their homeland.

Important aside: almost all (if not all) of the major rivers in southeast Asia originate in Tibet. The Yellow River, the Brahmaputra, the Ganges, the Yangtze, and countless others, come from rains in the Himalayan plateau and are the life source of much of the world's population.

Tibet is still seismologically active. If something were to happen where this waste is deposited, and it got into the rivers in Tibet, it would have absolutely unthinkably devastating effects on the rest of Asia.

Also, the Chinese are building a dam on one of these rivers, and it will create the largest inland sea in the world--more than 600km across. This could be enough to change the monsoon patterns of Asia. The monsoon is the life source of most of Asia--the rains affect the economy, not to mention agriculture and just plain drinking water. The Himalayas are so cold, and India so hot, that it creates enough of a pressure difference to create these rains. This new man-made sea, when completed, could change Tibet's temperature by even a couple of degrees--which could be enough to alter the monsoons with unforeseen worldwide economic effects. Sit on that one for a while. If these environmental reasons aren't enough for people to care about the Tibetan cause and China's effects, I don't know what will do it. A free Tibet is not just about free Tibetans.

Lhasang Tsering believes that what is needed is for everyone to contribute a little here and there to hit China where it hurts--the economy and communications. Even a little boy throwing an iron rod onto some high-tension wires or hitting a satellite dish--in every city in China--could disrupt it enough to give Tibetans a chance to take back their homeland. He is in favor of what he calls the mosquito method. You could stick the governor of California with big muscles and guns into a room full of mosquitos, but not his muscles nor his guns would be of any use (his example, really).

"You can decide to shake my hand, but you cannot decide to take my punch. . .Freedom is not free."

Lhasang Tsering is also a poet and owns a bookshop in D/sala called the Bookworm. He handed out copies of four of his poems, and Darby asked if he would read his favorite/most personal one aloud for us. He did. I've seen slam and live poetry reading before, but this was different on so many levels. It's unusual of me to praise poetry, but I can't resist:

TIBET WITH MY EYES

I see Tibet's clear blue skies,
Her towering snow-capped peaks,
Her verdant hills and valleys--
But only with my eyes closed.

I see my dear, dear Homeland,
I see the home where I was born,
I see all my childhood friends--
But only with my eyes closed.

I'm returning to a Free Tibet,
I'm back in my old hometown,
I'm reunited with my family--
But only in my dreams.

Why is it that,
It is only in my dreams,
And only with my eyes closed--
That I can see Tibet?

And why is it that,