Category: India November 2016

I have no photos from my time at the meditation centre. They confiscated all distractions, cameras included, at the start of the course, and so we were completely isolated from the world outside of the heavy iron gates.

One hundred and four of us, only six over the age of 50. It’s amazing how the energy of youth spreads and revitalizes, even in silence. These young people from all around the world – their caring and compassion and introspection – restored me and continues to rejuvenate as I meet them on the streets of Mcleodganj and they throw their arms around me….kindred spirits.

There’s Sally who is also staying here at Ram Yoga House, from Melbourne, Australia, in India to deepen her yoga practise. Noa and her partner from Israel, gentle souls who wear their hearts on their sleeves as they try to make sense of this world of ours, Carola from Sweden, Angie from Argentina and Ben from California. The two Indian women from Delhi who assured me that despite the money situation, I would be okay because I’m Canadian and people would want to help. And they were right.

I kind of miss the silence of Tushita. I miss the peanut butter and Tibetan bread. I miss the monkeys who were fairly well-behaved at the start of the week but who erupted into little hellions toward the end. Nothing was safe from their curiosity, fights breaking out all over, even an invasion of the kitchen. Hilarious for the students but tiring for the staff who had to try to control them…

Our dharma teacher Jimi is a 68-year-old American originally from Seattle who has lived in India since the 70s. He was also a monk for 12 years but left when he fell in love. Jimi has forgotten more than I’ll ever know about Buddhism, and his stories were entertaining and enlightening. He is, however, time-challenged and so we found ourselves in marathon teaching sessions near the end, trying to cram it all in.

We had an impromptu visit from two young lamas who spent their early years in a monastery but who also left to enter “the real world.” Wise far beyond their years. Both had connections to Canada.

I now have two weeks left to revel in the beauty of this mountain town, filled with Tibetans living in exile. Two weeks in the warm mountain sunshine, to eat momos and aloo gobi and parantha and pickle. To meditate, to walk in the forest, to have chai with the Kashmiri shopkeepers, to perhaps take part in conversational English classes for local monks. Content.

The normally sleepy village of Bhagsunag comes to life with a bang on the weekends. Or a band, to be precise…a marching band. They started about mid morning and have been going ever since. The main street leading to the temple and waterfall is jam-packed with visitors, eating food from roadside stalls, buying trinkets and woollen garments, enjoying the brilliant November sunshine. Thankfully, I only had a few things to pick up and didn’t have to brave the crowds for long.

I headed back toward my guest house and the restaurant where I’ve eaten the majority of my meals since arrival. Lo and behold, the bakery which never has more than a handful of customers (and often only me), was bustling. I got my usual seat in the dappled sunshine and got right to the serious business of people-watching. A few young couples, a painfully-thin young man in tattered clothing with hair almost to his waist, and a 50-something, scruffy character who said hi to the whole restaurant, rolled what looked like a joint and invited one of the local stray dogs to his table. He said she’s a really good dog but no one takes care of her. He then gave her a chunk of his cinnamon roll but she refused to eat it. So starving she is not, but I know what he means. She came over to my table for a bit of shade and it was all I could do to keep from petting her. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t chance it.

I head for Tushita Meditation Centre tomorrow. All electronic devices go into the safe on arrival, so I won’t even know who won the US election until the 15th (although maybe one of the monks will have pity on us and fill us in). It is also a silent retreat, with no speaking except to ask questions of the teacher or during the daily group discussion from 2-3. Buddha knows how this will go…

By the way, I met someone from Halifax the day before yesterday. And a young woman from Peru who knows where NS is because up until recently she worked for Scotiabank. Home is never far away.

It’s a sunny 13 degrees in Bhagsu, and I am back on my balcony after a trip to Mcleod Ganj and HH the Dalai Lama’s temple complex. I have a bit more energy today, although I didn’t sleep well again last night. I’m having a severe allergic reaction to something, either in the air or in the room, and it doesn’t help that it is never quiet here. Dog fights, drumming, fireworks, crying babies and being unable to breathe can wreak havoc on sleep.

In spite of it all, I am content. Bhagsu is quiet compared to Mcleod Ganj which is overwhelmed by the cars and crowds that flock to be near His Holiness. He isn’t here right now, but that makes little difference. It was surreal to be in that temple today, to read of Tibet’s history and the persecution perpetrated by the Chinese government which continues today.

There are a lot of Indian families here on holiday…still celebrating Diwali. I ended up in the middle of a group from Mumbai while leaving the temple, and I am now in several of their holiday pictures. Same thing at the waterfall yesterday… I’m going to turn the tables and start asking to have my picture taken with them…so far the only proof that I was here is on everyone else’s cell phone…

I like my ‘hood. The German bakery has become my restaurant of choice, and I’m getting friendly with the family who runs it. This morning, their baby girl – about 18 months old – was in a box when I arrived for breakfast, a great big box in which she was perfectly content. And yesterday when I arrived back at the guest house, their baby boy was in the washer, a convenient place to keep him safe while Mom picked greens in the garden.

I buy my fruit at the stand next to the temple. The young guy who runs it rescued me from the taxi the day I arrived. Mr. Cab Driver assured me he knew where I wanted to go, but of course he didn’t. Fruit Stand guy just grabbed my backpack out of the car and delivered me to the guest house without a word, leaving Taxi Guy blubbering on the road.

The best coffee by far is in Mcleod Ganj though at the Snow Lion Restaurant. I shared a table with a monk today, and I felt rather guilty about being on my phone until I watched him quietly put his beads in his bag and pull out his phone. There’s no escaping them.

Sunday morning and a bit of a haze over the mountainside. It is the end of Diwali (I think), so I’m expecting that the fireworks and gunshots(?) should be over today. It was like what I imagine the Wild West to have been over the past few days…lots of pretty lights but also loud sounds. Kind of feel sorry for the dogs now…

I walked down into Mcleodganj the day before yesterday. It is a beautiful, busy little town. Compared to Bhagsu where I am, about 15 minutes away, it is a thriving metropolis. I’m happy to be in the quiet part for the start of my stay, but I have booked a guest house in town for when I leave the meditation centre. Gotta have a taste of both sides of the coin. I believe I’ll be able to see the Dalai Lama’s residence from that new guest house!

Yesterday after a late breakfast, I walked up to Bhagsu Waterfall. A beautiful if somewhat strenuous walk but well worth the effort. Lots of others out doing the same thing – Indian families dressed in their finest for the holiday and visitors like me in hiking boots. Must say I didn’t envy the Indian women in their thin, strappy sandals. I forgot my camera so I’ll have to return, but I did have my picture taken for a magazine ( yeah, right). What can I say…I’m a sucker for good-looking men, and it’s nice to be asked!

There is a yoga studio about two minutes away from my room but I haven’t made it there yet. By the time I was over the effects of the travel (and what I think is a cold) it was close to Diwali and the instructor had gone home to be with his family. Maybe tomorrow.

My goal for today is to get my room cleaned. As much as I like this place, it is a tad strange in that the people who own/run the place are nowhere to be seen.

Suffered a minor electrocution in the shower this afternoon. It was my own fault, fiddling around with knobs trying to get some hot water. I should have just stuck with tradition and resigned myself to the fact that my first few showers in India are cold until someone shows me the ropes. Every system is different, so there’s no such thing as learning from experience.

My first full day in Bhagsu Nag was purposely a quiet one. I picked up a bit of a cold on one of the flights and was feeling kinda lowly this morning. Coupled with the jet lag, it was best to take it easy. Luckily, my room here at Silvermoon House is enormous, clean and comfortable. I have a small balcony which basks in sun pretty much all day, and I spent several hours there, engrossed in my book and acclimatizing and enjoying the sights and sounds of everyday life in the mountains.

Dharamshala itself is several kms down the mountain from me. Macleod Ganj, home of the Dalai Lama, is about 20 minutes away, and I think I’ll take a walk in that direction tomorrow provided I’m feeling better. The road is a typical one for the mountains, narrow with deep gullies on either side for rain run-off. It is also filled with ruts, pack horses, taxis and the occasional cow. It’s incredibly steep, as I’ve found from the few strolls I’ve taken since arrival yesterday.

Lots of Tibetan people here, and Tibetan restaurants, and that means momos! I haven’t had momos in ages and there’s a street vendor at the corner who makes ’em. I’ll celebrate Diwali tomorrow with an order of the spicy ones. Speaking of food, found a good restaurant right next door which – bonus – also sells toilet paper.

One final note…the large packs of dogs that spend their days sleeping in the sunshine in this town spend their nights fighting and barking nonstop. I’m thinking of buying a gun…