Friday, December 30, 2005
What to do about this Journal? I’m thinking that it was a great way to record and share the adventure and experience of being in the Peace Corps. But now things feel quite different. The adventure continues, but now my life – our lives - are a shared experience between Myrna and I. It feels much more private than being on a solo kick in the Peace Corps.
So I think my entries to the Journal will continue, as a way of keeping in touch with the world – or at least, that tiny fraction of the world that cares enough to check into this blog from time to time. But my entries will deal less with day-to-day activities, and more about how events impact where we are, how we live, what we are doing, what I am thinking. If that sounds unclear to you, it feels unclear to me, too. I guess we will just have to see what happens.
But .... all those post-Peace Corps plans of mine that everyone thought were so definite and clear: Use my great PC experience to canvass NGO’s in Washington in order to find a position involving the economic development of south/central America that pays a small stipend. Yeah. But, a couple of problems. The main one is my surprising (to me), depressing and very frustrating lack of understanding of conversational Spanish. I deal in half conversations, the information coming in my direction is lost. The idea that I could get paid to do ANYTHING that requires participating in conversational Spanish is simply out of the question for now.
So.... What to do? The plan now is that Myrna and I could morph into new lives as language teachers. In this new paradigm, I could teach English as a second language and Myrna could teach Spanish to the US college kids who come here to study. It feels a bit more realistic than our earlier thoughts of living with the other aging hippies at Lake Atitlan, selling bread and sketches to tourists.
If we can believe the information from the internet, there is a need for language teachers, and the pay, though small, can be livable. In the ideal world, we would work for the same school, teaching our separate languages and studying languages at the same time. And only in the most attractive locations, of course.
Lots of questions, though. How important is accreditation/certification, and what investment in both time and money would be required to achieve that? How to break into the field? Where?
For the exciting answers to these and other world-shaking questions, check back now and then to see how our world is turning. And drop a line to let me know what is shaking in your world, too.
And to all of us, a very Happy New Year full of growth, peace, and love.
So I think my entries to the Journal will continue, as a way of keeping in touch with the world – or at least, that tiny fraction of the world that cares enough to check into this blog from time to time. But my entries will deal less with day-to-day activities, and more about how events impact where we are, how we live, what we are doing, what I am thinking. If that sounds unclear to you, it feels unclear to me, too. I guess we will just have to see what happens.
But .... all those post-Peace Corps plans of mine that everyone thought were so definite and clear: Use my great PC experience to canvass NGO’s in Washington in order to find a position involving the economic development of south/central America that pays a small stipend. Yeah. But, a couple of problems. The main one is my surprising (to me), depressing and very frustrating lack of understanding of conversational Spanish. I deal in half conversations, the information coming in my direction is lost. The idea that I could get paid to do ANYTHING that requires participating in conversational Spanish is simply out of the question for now.
So.... What to do? The plan now is that Myrna and I could morph into new lives as language teachers. In this new paradigm, I could teach English as a second language and Myrna could teach Spanish to the US college kids who come here to study. It feels a bit more realistic than our earlier thoughts of living with the other aging hippies at Lake Atitlan, selling bread and sketches to tourists.
If we can believe the information from the internet, there is a need for language teachers, and the pay, though small, can be livable. In the ideal world, we would work for the same school, teaching our separate languages and studying languages at the same time. And only in the most attractive locations, of course.
Lots of questions, though. How important is accreditation/certification, and what investment in both time and money would be required to achieve that? How to break into the field? Where?
For the exciting answers to these and other world-shaking questions, check back now and then to see how our world is turning. And drop a line to let me know what is shaking in your world, too.
And to all of us, a very Happy New Year full of growth, peace, and love.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Ouch. I just received this email from a handsome, tall, capable Tanzanian student, whom I had tried to help find employment. He has no parents, so cannot use the family connections that are the normal way to find a job in Tanzania. His integrity and maturity are really his only assets, he has no special talents or skills.
I´d thought I´d found an opportunity for him, with the help of the Mwanza Rotary Club, but it seems to have evaporated.
I guess this is just a reminder that we should give thanks for our own bountiful blessings, and remember the stuggles of those less fortunate, particularly at this beautiful, warm, and very commercial season of Christmas.
Sort of along the same line, I called my Tanzanian friend who lives near the Burundi border yesterday, to find that he did not receive my letter of instructions about the need to take new Eucalyptus samples. In addition, he is now tranferring to a different region of the country. So I guess that initiative has also come to naught.
wrote:
Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2005 23:40:31 -0800 (PST)
From: "sikudhanomary@yahoo.com sikudhanomary"
Subject: report
To: leeforney@yahoo.com
INFORMATION TO MR LEE.
Is like that, I felled totally to gat a work to aperson whom you onganised me so please get me a massage to what should I do!
Mr Christopher Malengo.
mob 0746 - 644982
I´d thought I´d found an opportunity for him, with the help of the Mwanza Rotary Club, but it seems to have evaporated.
I guess this is just a reminder that we should give thanks for our own bountiful blessings, and remember the stuggles of those less fortunate, particularly at this beautiful, warm, and very commercial season of Christmas.
Sort of along the same line, I called my Tanzanian friend who lives near the Burundi border yesterday, to find that he did not receive my letter of instructions about the need to take new Eucalyptus samples. In addition, he is now tranferring to a different region of the country. So I guess that initiative has also come to naught.
Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2005 23:40:31 -0800 (PST)
From: "sikudhanomary@yahoo.com sikudhanomary"
Subject: report
To: leeforney@yahoo.com
INFORMATION TO MR LEE.
Is like that, I felled totally to gat a work to aperson whom you onganised me so please get me a massage to what should I do!
Mr Christopher Malengo.
mob 0746 - 644982
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The last couple of days in India were kind of a loss. I’d pretty much had enough of being a tourist, and simply wanted to get on to Guatemala. My stomach had regained most of its viability, but there was still a queasy reminder or two. I never did look into those courses on cooking – wasn’t much interested in food anymore, especially spicy Indian food.
On my last day in India, I tried to find the guy’s home who I’d met at the concert. He lived in a town about an hour outside of New Delhi by bus, and I got there OK but didn’t know how to find him after that. Phones weren’t a great help – between the poor connections and his accent, not much information came through. So I took a couple of taxis trying to find him, and asked a bunch of people about the address. But very few people spoke anything but Hindi, and the signs were no longer bilingual. I finally gave up, but then had the problem of getting back to New Delhi. That took several buses and a lot of asking and waiting at strange bus stops while busses with Hindi destinations whizzed by. It took about three times as long to get back to Delhi as it took to get out to Sahibabad in Gaziabad. But I met a very nice helpful student in the last bus, who helped me figure out where I was going.
No sleep that night. My flight – Delhi to London, London to Miami, Miami to Guatemala – left at 3:25am, with a reporting time of 12:30am. I don’t usually take reporting times too seriously, but this time wanted to get there early because I didn’t yet have a seat assignment, and did not want to sit in the middle of a row for that long flight. The flights were uneventful except for their interminable length, and for the delayed flight leaving London. As it turned out there was only one hour in Miami, barely enough time to make my connection due to the redundant, slow, and user unfriendly security checkpoints. And, an hour was not enough time for my suitcases to make the connection. So I had to live in Guatemala without most of my stuff or much in the way of clean clothes for a couple of days.
Incidentally, the phones to American Airlines in Guatemala don’t work. Really. The Baggage Service Department couldn’t be reached on the number they printed on their own missing bag report. And the main number of AA, as given in the phone book, the internet, and a listing of airline numbers, was nonexistant – or so the phone company claimed. Hence it must be impossible to buy a ticket or check on an arrival time here by calling American Airlines. Seems like a strange way to do business, but...
The long flights, the dislocation and the loss of sleep must have lowered my resistance, because my gastrointestinal system rebelled again the next day, big time. It was diagnosed as giardia, a particularly unpleasant form of diarrhea. I’m still dealing with it, but things seem to be getting better.
But, I am in Guatemala now, with Myrna and her family, and that is great. The green grass and bright clear skies are a welcome change from the haze and dust of India. There is a great family hubbub. Lucia is two years older, still precious but now pretty much aware of just how precious she is. Sofhia is the new family addition of 5 months and, like her mother Julia, has a beautiful white complexion that is set off by her dark hair and features. I met her Father, Juan Carlos, for the first time. He wasn’t even in the picture the last time I was here. Meanwhile, Fernando is in love with Malaika who lives in San Francisco. She is arriving on the 18th and they plan a small family wedding in our home here on the 29th. Then Malaika returns to the USA, and they plan a second, big church wedding celebration here in April. So Myrna and I aren’t the only members of the family with strange and difficult marriage plans. Fernando had wanted to be in the USA now, visiting Malaika’s family, but has had big troubles trying to renew his US visa. He is not a happy camper about that.
I find that my Spanish hasn’t deteriorated too badly over these two years, although I still have a long way to go. I’m at that point where I can pretty much say whatever I want to say, but have a lot of trouble understanding what is said to me. And I am still sometimes saying Ndio instead of Si when I mean “yes,” thank you Swahili. Well, it is a starting point.
On my last day in India, I tried to find the guy’s home who I’d met at the concert. He lived in a town about an hour outside of New Delhi by bus, and I got there OK but didn’t know how to find him after that. Phones weren’t a great help – between the poor connections and his accent, not much information came through. So I took a couple of taxis trying to find him, and asked a bunch of people about the address. But very few people spoke anything but Hindi, and the signs were no longer bilingual. I finally gave up, but then had the problem of getting back to New Delhi. That took several buses and a lot of asking and waiting at strange bus stops while busses with Hindi destinations whizzed by. It took about three times as long to get back to Delhi as it took to get out to Sahibabad in Gaziabad. But I met a very nice helpful student in the last bus, who helped me figure out where I was going.
No sleep that night. My flight – Delhi to London, London to Miami, Miami to Guatemala – left at 3:25am, with a reporting time of 12:30am. I don’t usually take reporting times too seriously, but this time wanted to get there early because I didn’t yet have a seat assignment, and did not want to sit in the middle of a row for that long flight. The flights were uneventful except for their interminable length, and for the delayed flight leaving London. As it turned out there was only one hour in Miami, barely enough time to make my connection due to the redundant, slow, and user unfriendly security checkpoints. And, an hour was not enough time for my suitcases to make the connection. So I had to live in Guatemala without most of my stuff or much in the way of clean clothes for a couple of days.
Incidentally, the phones to American Airlines in Guatemala don’t work. Really. The Baggage Service Department couldn’t be reached on the number they printed on their own missing bag report. And the main number of AA, as given in the phone book, the internet, and a listing of airline numbers, was nonexistant – or so the phone company claimed. Hence it must be impossible to buy a ticket or check on an arrival time here by calling American Airlines. Seems like a strange way to do business, but...
The long flights, the dislocation and the loss of sleep must have lowered my resistance, because my gastrointestinal system rebelled again the next day, big time. It was diagnosed as giardia, a particularly unpleasant form of diarrhea. I’m still dealing with it, but things seem to be getting better.
But, I am in Guatemala now, with Myrna and her family, and that is great. The green grass and bright clear skies are a welcome change from the haze and dust of India. There is a great family hubbub. Lucia is two years older, still precious but now pretty much aware of just how precious she is. Sofhia is the new family addition of 5 months and, like her mother Julia, has a beautiful white complexion that is set off by her dark hair and features. I met her Father, Juan Carlos, for the first time. He wasn’t even in the picture the last time I was here. Meanwhile, Fernando is in love with Malaika who lives in San Francisco. She is arriving on the 18th and they plan a small family wedding in our home here on the 29th. Then Malaika returns to the USA, and they plan a second, big church wedding celebration here in April. So Myrna and I aren’t the only members of the family with strange and difficult marriage plans. Fernando had wanted to be in the USA now, visiting Malaika’s family, but has had big troubles trying to renew his US visa. He is not a happy camper about that.
I find that my Spanish hasn’t deteriorated too badly over these two years, although I still have a long way to go. I’m at that point where I can pretty much say whatever I want to say, but have a lot of trouble understanding what is said to me. And I am still sometimes saying Ndio instead of Si when I mean “yes,” thank you Swahili. Well, it is a starting point.
Friday, December 09, 2005
I am still very reluctantly avoiding most spicy food, but things are feeling much better today thank you.
Yesterday evening I attended a concert of classical Indian music. I got there early, and the guards wouldn't let me in because I did not have a "pass." So I got a book out of my backpack and was standing around reading it, waiting until close to the concert time and hoping the "rules" might loosen up. Before long, a young man came up to me and said that he had an extra pass, if I would like to use it. Things seem to happen like that.
Amrit is studying the tabla (drum), and he took me backstage to introduce me to his Guru who was one of the evening's performers. This was a more formal evening than the concert I attended before: Most of the audience was dressed up, there were beautiful flower petal arrangements on the floor in the lobby, the auditorium was full...
The concert began with a long - one and a half hours long! - raga, of a sitar, a sarangi which is a bowed instrument, and two tabla players one being Amrit's Guru. For me, unfamiliar with the musical form, I have to suspend my concept of what to expect in a musical work and just go with enjoying the sound. In this case, there was of course all the Indian unique sounds and rhythms, but the work often seemed rather Grateful Dead in dissolving into meyhem and then recovering into something quite orderly and rhythmic. Often there were interplays/challanges between the sitar and sarangi or tabla players, rather like riffs at a jazz jam session. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Next on the program there were two dancers who did mostly solo dances, but also some duets, with again musicians sitting to the side. The dancers were just beautiful in their grace and movements. The male dancer wore many bells on his ankles and wrist, and together with stamping and shuffling, was a whole rhythm instrument himself as well as a dancer - again, frequently interacting and sparring with the tabla player on the side.
After the concert, Amrit gave me his address and asked me if I would come to his home on Sunday. I agreed, of course. Now I have to find out how to get to Sahibabad, Ghaziabad, near Mohan Nagar. They couldn't help me at my hotel, today I will ask around at the tourist offices downtown.
Yesterday evening I attended a concert of classical Indian music. I got there early, and the guards wouldn't let me in because I did not have a "pass." So I got a book out of my backpack and was standing around reading it, waiting until close to the concert time and hoping the "rules" might loosen up. Before long, a young man came up to me and said that he had an extra pass, if I would like to use it. Things seem to happen like that.
Amrit is studying the tabla (drum), and he took me backstage to introduce me to his Guru who was one of the evening's performers. This was a more formal evening than the concert I attended before: Most of the audience was dressed up, there were beautiful flower petal arrangements on the floor in the lobby, the auditorium was full...
The concert began with a long - one and a half hours long! - raga, of a sitar, a sarangi which is a bowed instrument, and two tabla players one being Amrit's Guru. For me, unfamiliar with the musical form, I have to suspend my concept of what to expect in a musical work and just go with enjoying the sound. In this case, there was of course all the Indian unique sounds and rhythms, but the work often seemed rather Grateful Dead in dissolving into meyhem and then recovering into something quite orderly and rhythmic. Often there were interplays/challanges between the sitar and sarangi or tabla players, rather like riffs at a jazz jam session. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Next on the program there were two dancers who did mostly solo dances, but also some duets, with again musicians sitting to the side. The dancers were just beautiful in their grace and movements. The male dancer wore many bells on his ankles and wrist, and together with stamping and shuffling, was a whole rhythm instrument himself as well as a dancer - again, frequently interacting and sparring with the tabla player on the side.
After the concert, Amrit gave me his address and asked me if I would come to his home on Sunday. I agreed, of course. Now I have to find out how to get to Sahibabad, Ghaziabad, near Mohan Nagar. They couldn't help me at my hotel, today I will ask around at the tourist offices downtown.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
So I made it through more than two years without any major gastrointestinal eruptions, but now in India I am feeling a bit queasy. I think it puts the kibash on my thoughts about taking an Indian cooking course - bland American fare seems like the way to go at least for the time being.
So I took it easy today, but still got to the National Museum. It is full of archeological finds that look pretty much like a lot of other archeological finds of Hindu and Buddhist figures, but still pretty effective in getting the point across that India - or the Indus Valley, at least - was a very important and early cradle of civilization.
Afterwards, I decided that I needed to medicate my body. Thought about Imodium, but decided that a Coke, a chocolate donut and a vanilla-strawberry frozen custard would do the job. It seems to have been a good decision, but it took a lot of will power. I took my medication in a Bengali Sweets Shop, and all the counters were full of the most mouthwatering confections and food of every description. I may have to go back there in a day or so to make up for my perseverence.
I finally found one of the magazines that tells what is going on in Delhi today. That led to the highlight of the evening, the concert I attended sponsored by the Italian Embassy. The I Solisti Veneti chamber orchestra under Claudio Scimone gave a performance of Vivaldi's Four Seasons among other works. It was marvelous to hear a classical concert again. It has been a very long time. Clearly it was not in the US - they gave three encores before packing it in.
So I took it easy today, but still got to the National Museum. It is full of archeological finds that look pretty much like a lot of other archeological finds of Hindu and Buddhist figures, but still pretty effective in getting the point across that India - or the Indus Valley, at least - was a very important and early cradle of civilization.
Afterwards, I decided that I needed to medicate my body. Thought about Imodium, but decided that a Coke, a chocolate donut and a vanilla-strawberry frozen custard would do the job. It seems to have been a good decision, but it took a lot of will power. I took my medication in a Bengali Sweets Shop, and all the counters were full of the most mouthwatering confections and food of every description. I may have to go back there in a day or so to make up for my perseverence.
I finally found one of the magazines that tells what is going on in Delhi today. That led to the highlight of the evening, the concert I attended sponsored by the Italian Embassy. The I Solisti Veneti chamber orchestra under Claudio Scimone gave a performance of Vivaldi's Four Seasons among other works. It was marvelous to hear a classical concert again. It has been a very long time. Clearly it was not in the US - they gave three encores before packing it in.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Amritsar, December 3. Arrived after a cold 8-hour bus ride, fought my way through the touts and took a rickshaw to the Golden Temple complex. There is much less English spoken here than anywhere else I've been. Took a rickshaw to the Information Office by the entrance to the Temple to talk about Sikhism and find out about the free accommodations. The Information Officer, Subedar (Retd.) Dalbir Singh, was a carreer military officer and we made an appointment for tomorrow. He gave me a stack of booklets to read and we made an appointment for tomorrow. The freebie rooms are basically spartan hostels - dormatories. They also have some private rooms for low cost, but those weren't available to me. So I spent the night in a dorm. Lord - my clothes are crawling off my body. I was wearing multiple layers of shirts and pants in McLoud Ganj and Dharamsala for the cold, and still couldn't strip down here either in the middle of an unheated coed dorm. The guy in the bunk beside me was a big nice gentle brute from Japan. The bunk was a padded board on legs, with a heavy quilt as a blanket. At 5:00am they began broadcasting calls to worship periodically.
The Golden Temple is quite imposing, in its solid imposing gold-block kind of way. Inside, it is lavish and exquisite. But after walking through it and around it and taking lots of photos (none allowed inside), there isn't a lot more to do. I'd hoped to get more of a feel for the practice of Sikhism in the Temple, but it didn't work out that way.
December 4: I changed to a nearby guest house. The room is in the front, so it is noisy. But so was the dormatory, and here I have TV and a HOT SHOWER WITH ACTUAL RUNNING WATER for Rs.300 - about $6.70. I can treat myself!
Spent several hours at the railroad station getting a ticket for New Delhi tomorrow morning. What an ordeal! I don't know how the lines can move so slowly. And first I had to go to the Information Office to find out the schedules. Then to buy the ticket, and the lines aren't marked so I waited an hour in the Ticket line instead of the Reservations line where it took another hour and a half. At least the price can't be beat. Eight hours to New Delhi with a reserved seat, for $2.25. I just have to get up early, as the train leaves at 6:10 tomorrow morning.
Then I visited the Jallianwala Bough, where in 1919 a British brigade machine gunned a crowd of 20,000 peaceful demonstrators lead by Mohatma Ghandi. Even the British admit that it was a massacre of monumental proportions. Somewhere between 357 and 12,000 people killed depending on who is counting, with many many more injured. More than anything else, it sparked the active movement for Indian Independence. It is a very moving site.
After that I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting on Dalbir Singh, as there were suddenly a raft of VIPs visiting the office that he was kowtowing to. But right after I finished writing a letter telling him how disappointed in him I was, he got more or less free and we had quite a long discussion. I had a list of questions that I had to keep bringing him back to, because he kept wanting to go off on his Introductory Lecture which was interesting but didn't adress my questions. But by the end, he was introducing me to the VIPs as a Sikh Researcher from America.
From all this, I do feel that I have a little understanding of Sikhism and what it stands for. Some of it I like very much, a lot of it I think is self-contradictory, and it is all encased in a very local, ethnic (Punjabi) context that makes it difficult to access. I'm sure I will write all this up for the diary, but not now. I'm pooped.
Tomorrow, New Delhi again. I was thinking that I've about done what I want to do with the rest of my time in India. Still three goals in New Delhi: Visit the B'hai Temple, ultra-modern and spectacular in the pictures I've seen of it, the Mosque at Noida, again very modern and supposedly fabulous, and the India Habitat Center to see more what goes on there. In the time left over, maybe I can find a course on Indian cooking.?. After that, I think I've had enough.
The Golden Temple is quite imposing, in its solid imposing gold-block kind of way. Inside, it is lavish and exquisite. But after walking through it and around it and taking lots of photos (none allowed inside), there isn't a lot more to do. I'd hoped to get more of a feel for the practice of Sikhism in the Temple, but it didn't work out that way.
December 4: I changed to a nearby guest house. The room is in the front, so it is noisy. But so was the dormatory, and here I have TV and a HOT SHOWER WITH ACTUAL RUNNING WATER for Rs.300 - about $6.70. I can treat myself!
Spent several hours at the railroad station getting a ticket for New Delhi tomorrow morning. What an ordeal! I don't know how the lines can move so slowly. And first I had to go to the Information Office to find out the schedules. Then to buy the ticket, and the lines aren't marked so I waited an hour in the Ticket line instead of the Reservations line where it took another hour and a half. At least the price can't be beat. Eight hours to New Delhi with a reserved seat, for $2.25. I just have to get up early, as the train leaves at 6:10 tomorrow morning.
Then I visited the Jallianwala Bough, where in 1919 a British brigade machine gunned a crowd of 20,000 peaceful demonstrators lead by Mohatma Ghandi. Even the British admit that it was a massacre of monumental proportions. Somewhere between 357 and 12,000 people killed depending on who is counting, with many many more injured. More than anything else, it sparked the active movement for Indian Independence. It is a very moving site.
After that I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting on Dalbir Singh, as there were suddenly a raft of VIPs visiting the office that he was kowtowing to. But right after I finished writing a letter telling him how disappointed in him I was, he got more or less free and we had quite a long discussion. I had a list of questions that I had to keep bringing him back to, because he kept wanting to go off on his Introductory Lecture which was interesting but didn't adress my questions. But by the end, he was introducing me to the VIPs as a Sikh Researcher from America.
From all this, I do feel that I have a little understanding of Sikhism and what it stands for. Some of it I like very much, a lot of it I think is self-contradictory, and it is all encased in a very local, ethnic (Punjabi) context that makes it difficult to access. I'm sure I will write all this up for the diary, but not now. I'm pooped.
Tomorrow, New Delhi again. I was thinking that I've about done what I want to do with the rest of my time in India. Still three goals in New Delhi: Visit the B'hai Temple, ultra-modern and spectacular in the pictures I've seen of it, the Mosque at Noida, again very modern and supposedly fabulous, and the India Habitat Center to see more what goes on there. In the time left over, maybe I can find a course on Indian cooking.?. After that, I think I've had enough.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
As I was eating dinner in McLoud Ganj the night before last at the same Tibetan restaurant where I sat in on that English class, a young Tibetan woman sat down across the table from me. She seemed distressed, and had a handwritten message in her hand. At first it seemed that she wanted to practice her English with me. But it turned out that she was trying to understand an email that a guy in the Netherlands had sent to her. At first she didn't want to show me the message, but finally she did. It got a bit complex, with the Dutchman sending details of how to get the money from Western Union in an Attachment, but Pema had deleted it. Also, as a Tibetan refugee, she didn't have identity papers so had to have a friend with a passport be the actual recipient of the money. Long story, but basically I was able to help her and we finally confirmed with Western Union that the money was there, as soon as her friend with passport gets back from Chandigahr.
Yesterday I walked from McLoud Ganj to Dharamsala. The path is steep enough so I feel it even now in my groin. Had trouble finding the Tibetan Library and Museum. As it turned out, I had walked right by the entrance because the big sign for it was pointed toward Dharamsala instead of toward McLoud Ganj. It was a bit of a letdown when I finally got there. The library, at least the public part, is a simple reading room with not a lot in it, and the museum was mostly a series of cases containing hundreds of small statues of buddha or buddasatvas, all neatly numbered but without labels or explanations.
I stayed in a small hotel in Dharamsala last night to be close to the bus station. There were 4 or 5 other backpackers there with me at 5:00 this morning to take the 6 hr ride to Amritsar where I am now, fighting with this computer because this cafe must only have a dialup connection, judging from how slow it is responding. Next on the agenda is to go to the golden Temple to see how best to approach it, what is going on, and to find accommodations for the next couple of days.
Onward!
Yesterday I walked from McLoud Ganj to Dharamsala. The path is steep enough so I feel it even now in my groin. Had trouble finding the Tibetan Library and Museum. As it turned out, I had walked right by the entrance because the big sign for it was pointed toward Dharamsala instead of toward McLoud Ganj. It was a bit of a letdown when I finally got there. The library, at least the public part, is a simple reading room with not a lot in it, and the museum was mostly a series of cases containing hundreds of small statues of buddha or buddasatvas, all neatly numbered but without labels or explanations.
I stayed in a small hotel in Dharamsala last night to be close to the bus station. There were 4 or 5 other backpackers there with me at 5:00 this morning to take the 6 hr ride to Amritsar where I am now, fighting with this computer because this cafe must only have a dialup connection, judging from how slow it is responding. Next on the agenda is to go to the golden Temple to see how best to approach it, what is going on, and to find accommodations for the next couple of days.
Onward!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
McLoud Ganj is an interesting place. The scenery is incomparable, even if the view of the valley is somewhat haze shrouded. The mountains are spectacular. MG itself is a cramped little tourist spot, a mix of backpackers and tibetan traders and monks. So it is kind of like a leftover hippie hangout - but now, in the start of the cold season, with relatively few of the tourists that must be here in other seasons. Yesterday evening I went to the movies here. A DVD showing of Easy Rider. It must have been cut though, because it was missing Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds from the sound track. Pity.
But the interesting part of being in a place like this is really just talking to people, anyway. Last night I talked with a store owner for a long time. He was Nepalese, third generation traders, who left Nepal some years ago when the country came apart. He is hoping his girlfriend will come back next month - she is from California, and they met here when she came into his shop. Today at breakfast I listened to a very competent woman giving English lessons to a Tibetan man who was mastering the present continuing tense. Then talked to a guy who spoke highly of Che Guevarra, but not convincingly.
Then I headed out on a road, picking Dharamkot as a destination, in the general direction of UP, steeply. Got lost a couple of times, teamed up with Ben from LA and we got to the top of a hill. It would have been called a mountain anywhere else, but here we still had towering peaks way above us. We talked about LA, Sikhism and Eastern religions, future plans and Myrna, Hindu lore as we stopped in at little temples and stupas along the way... He was a good companion.
Now I am ready for a good Indian meal for the evening.
Tomorrow I plan to walk downhill from McLoud Ganj with all my gear to spend the night in Dharmsala so I am closer to the bus station. The express bus to Amritsar leaves at 5am. The trip to Dharmsala is 3 km by steep trail or 10 km by bus, so I guess the path really is as steep as they say. Along the way I should pass by the Dalai Lama's residence and the Tibetan Library where they supposedly hold many lectures and courses.
But the interesting part of being in a place like this is really just talking to people, anyway. Last night I talked with a store owner for a long time. He was Nepalese, third generation traders, who left Nepal some years ago when the country came apart. He is hoping his girlfriend will come back next month - she is from California, and they met here when she came into his shop. Today at breakfast I listened to a very competent woman giving English lessons to a Tibetan man who was mastering the present continuing tense. Then talked to a guy who spoke highly of Che Guevarra, but not convincingly.
Then I headed out on a road, picking Dharamkot as a destination, in the general direction of UP, steeply. Got lost a couple of times, teamed up with Ben from LA and we got to the top of a hill. It would have been called a mountain anywhere else, but here we still had towering peaks way above us. We talked about LA, Sikhism and Eastern religions, future plans and Myrna, Hindu lore as we stopped in at little temples and stupas along the way... He was a good companion.
Now I am ready for a good Indian meal for the evening.
Tomorrow I plan to walk downhill from McLoud Ganj with all my gear to spend the night in Dharmsala so I am closer to the bus station. The express bus to Amritsar leaves at 5am. The trip to Dharmsala is 3 km by steep trail or 10 km by bus, so I guess the path really is as steep as they say. Along the way I should pass by the Dalai Lama's residence and the Tibetan Library where they supposedly hold many lectures and courses.
