Mountain Madness

Darkness of Dharamasala...
According to Karan, a lonesome Indian trekker I met in Kalpa, monks in robes command an air of respect, especially monks in Dharamasala. He says they’re a fake comparison to the indigenous Buddhist monks of Spiti, that you bow to the robe and they hide behind it while living the high life of spirituality afforded to them as Tibetans in exile. Apparently the DL is none too pleased with the monks of Dharamasala. He doesn't like their materialistic attitudes. They're a tourist attraction and they know it. Many run successful guesthouses and businesses in the area, taking away the authenticity of their monkness and replacing their auras with business sense and an appetite for money. They're everywhere and make a strange contrast to the local Tibetan rude boys that hang out on the street corners of Mccleod Ganj. Wanted an insight into the dark side of Dharamasala, the flip side of what's meant to be one of the world's most spiritual places and boy did I get it...

His name was...
Funnily enough his name was Karma. We befriended him the day our bus pulled into Dharamasala about a week ago. Spoke to him on various occasions and he knew where we were staying. One night he came over to sell us something we didn't want and took my camera in the process. I didn't cry but I wanted to. It was some kind of fucked up lesson that I guess I need to learn something from because this is the second time my camera has been robbed in India. This time a junkie took it and he goes by the name of Karma. Ironic?

I'm with Garcia Lorca on this one:
Estan los viejos cuchillos tiritando bajo el polvo. Antonio Torres Heredia, hijo y nieto de Camborios, va con bara de mimbre a Sevilla a ver los toros. Moreno de verde luna anda gallardo y garboso, sus empavonados bucles le brillan entre los ojos.

Kalpa – Getting up-close and personal with the Himalayas
It took about 16 hours to cross over from Dharamasala, down to Shimla and then up to the east side of Himachal Pradesh to a place called Kalpa, a small mountain village just above Rekong Peo. We were up close and personal with the Himalayan range known as Kinnaur Kilash. The mountains washed away the pain of losing my camera. This is the place Shiva resides during the winter months to meditate on marijuana. Magnificent, and imposing, I felt the full power of the Himalayas! Sweeping views of valleys that never seem to end, vertical drops that take your breath away and an awesome close up view.

The Himalayas stretch from Ladakh to Spiti and then cross over to Nepal and reach out to Mount Everest. Our guesthouse was looking right at Kinnaur Kailash, north-east of Himachal Pradesh. We could have taken a five hour bus that took us further north to Narkon and then trekked for about four hours to see the Tibetan border - but we didn't. There's always next time. It was cold but the sun was shining for about two days. Connected with the locals. They're the most distinctive people that I've come across. They're the pure, untouhed, indigeneous tribes of the land, planted, watered and grown on this terrain. Their culture, way of life and rituals that include animal sacrifices, drinking the apple and barley wine of the region and smoking; the way they are so true to themselves and their sense of spirituality - it's what makes these people so pure.

If God is a DJ...
Himachal Pradesh is just one big voluptuous mountainous region. It's a trek to go north and the further you climb, the more oriental the people begin to appear. If God is a DJ then this is the proof. It's a full power play off, the goddesses in eight-arm action on the decks controlling the elements, the planets, the molecules, the earth, the plants, the chemicals that come from them, the mix of ingredients that make the chemicals; they is moving the earth, the water, the wind, the fire... In comes Karma, makinh it an unpredictable set as they crank it up, winding the rhythm, playin' with the power.

Plants, animals and so I hear, mermaids too, they live and die and live again. Their fossilised remains wash onto the shore, their souls melting into the froth of the waves that ascend into the sky as the sun heats the day. Condensation freezes into clouds of ice that settle on the tops of mountains. The sky thunders, spring arrives, bringing rain that melts the snow that brings water that flows into rivers across into the Motherland. People swirl across the land, cradling their love, loss, anger, pain, happiness, hopes for the future, wishes and dreams, their fears, their fight for life and their fight in life. True to their tribes and untouched by the world, there are also those that keep it real - makin it a full-power, high-voltage, super-charged mix!

How the India experience feels in a nutshell so far...
I've been jumping across the country like a rabbit on speed. A few days here, a week or 10 days there, making spontaneous decisions and hitting the road before finding the next place to settle for a short time once again. I need to be still and meditate on nothing. Sometimes I'm emotional, othertimes, disillusioned, lonely and sad. Then there are times I feel like the happiest person alive, indestructable, invincible, I'm on cloud nine and feel myself ascending higher and higher. My personal experiences with people and places dictate the state of my mind, bringing me greater learning and development. I also feel the freedom. It carries me across India like a little bird and suddenly I'm exhilarated, excited, in love with the world and everyone in it. I'm full of beans, energy and bursting with light like never before. I've been doing different things with different people and following the flow. But I wanna settle down now. I want to nest in one place and just stay there forever. I'm tired and emotional, I miss my family and I miss my friends and I miss the people I have met along the way. It's time to rest for a while.