James Cameron described India as a “tormented, confused, corrupt, futile and exasperating place”, yet could not explain his love affair with the subcontinent to which he continued to return for more than 25 years.
I cannot even fathom the thought of leaving India right now. It's become an addiction. My love for India is unconditional. I mean, come on, it would have to be. Before I had left, I'd heard people say that you will either love it or hate it. Yet I must admit that not only do I love to love India, but I've also loved to hate it: Your train has been delayed another six hours; when it arrives it chugs at 20kmph for the first eight hours; you've asked 10 people for directions to the same destination only to be given 10 different answers; nobody knows where the postoffice is; you made a reservation and they have no record; the rickshaw wallah has decided to charge you double for no apparent reason; the exasperation you feel at the powertrips of pen pushing minor officials when you queue for an hour to fill in a form, wait another hour for a different clerk to stamp it, another to staple it and yet another to check it, until finally, you are told that you filled in the wrong form and need to wait in a different queue...
But what I have learnt is that to give way to anger is to surrender. What's more, despite how testy India can get, like a lover making it up for doing you wrong, she can also make you quickly smile again, charming you with scents, colours, beauty; with the hybrid that fuses rich, ancient mythologies and spirituality with daily living; with her ruins, temples and fascinating monumental architecture that tell stories of lost civilizations.
It's the place where the smell of incense mixes with burning cow dung as the waft of frying onions and a concoction of cumin, corriander, tumeric and saffron engulf your nostrils. It's the place where men and women distribute garlands of marigolds and jasmine for no apparent reason; where villagers take to the streets in celebration of a marriage, the groom on horseback preceeded by a brass band and proud young men throwing shapes they've seen in Bollywood movies as they dance ahead of the procession.
There is no other place like India. It is the birthplace of Ayurveda - The Knowledge of Life that is said to alleviate physical, mental and spiritual suffering; of mantras, mandalas, meditations and the asanas and prayanamas of the great sage, Patanjali. It is the birthplace of great writers and poets such as Ravindranath Tagore and R.K. Narayan, the scholar, G.V Desani, not to mention the world-acclaimed filmmaker, Satyajit Ray and the legendary composer and musician, Ravi Shankar.
It is also a country where even the most diverse groups of people will make a stand against the injustices that offend their beliefs and rights as human beings. As the writer-journalist Gita Mehta says, “Where else would a hundred thousand naked sadhus with matted hair break off their meditations and descend from their mountain caves to scale the towering gates of the Indian Parliament determined to breech the nation's citadel and ban cow slaughter....” and “where else would a mass of hermaphrodites and eunuchs march on the capital to demonstrate against family planning – on the grounds that it would statistically lessen their odds of being born?”
This is India!
This is the India that has delighted me, cajoled me, bounced me up and down on her knee like a mother does a child; it is the India that has had me tearing out my hair, had me in tears of frustration, driven me crazy and tested my tolerence in a hundered different ways. The heat, the people, the traffic, the chaos, the corruption, the propaganda, Bollywood and the mafia that runs it; the epic journeys that find you amidst the clouds and ice of mountains one day, and the scorching heat of a holy city the next ... Characters you attract, the reflections in their faces; the places you run to and the ones you run from, because once again, it is not the place you're running from, but yourself... It's a crazy world is India.
Six months more...
Six months later, I've got myself six months more. Like a cat on springs, I've landed on my feet at the shakiest times, so not only have I survived India, but India, to the great surprise of my comedian of a friend, David, has also survived me!
It's been a journey of the heart, mind and soul that's also brought haunting times as you face yourself and the things that you've spent the best part of your life trying to run from. Mother India gives you a good dose of tough love, taking you kicking and screaming on an emotional rollercoaster, bringing you to ask a million questions about yourself and about where you are going in life.
Spiritual Beings...
I was searching for a spiritual master and I found not just one, but a fair few of them. I once read that “The Supreme Self is our true identity, universal and divine.” We all possess it but we don't all realise it because it's not the easiest thing to find. I mean, how does one go about discovering the so-called Supreme-Self? Do we need to go to hell and back in order to discover it? I met a handful of what I can call “spiritual beings”, and it seems some of them have been to hell and back. Each one had a special characteristic that made them shine. Some of them possessed a conscious connection with the non-physical world. This is why India is so special. It helps you, you, you, you and you, see very clearly, your own true identity.
Learning...
India has felt a bit like a process where a scheme of things happen in order for you to learn a few things. I can say that I have learnt a few things about myself. For example, I, yes, that's me, Anu, have learnt a degree of self-discipline! Speech for example is something that I know we should all control. In the movie American Gangster, I remember Denzel Washington as Superfly, tell his brother, “the one with the biggest mouth in the room, is the weakest one in the room.” It's because speech happens to take up so much energy, which reminds me of something that I read: “Learning how to discipline your speech is a way of preventing your energies from spilling out through the rupture of your mouth, exhausting you and filling the world with words, words, words, instead of serenity, peace and bliss.”
Special friends that I met on travels informed me that I am a Blue Crystal Storm on the Mayan Calendar – a source of self-generating energy, that I bring art to the world and that I am a people connector. Sounds good, eh? But on the flip side, I also have trouble directing that energy in the right way and at times, it can come out all wrong when I try to do everything at once, or when there are too many people and I try to please everyone and forget about me. These are some of the things that I have realised about me.
Selfish in a good way...
But there's one thing that I've noticed about being in India: That it all ends up sounding a bit like me, me me. India has made me think about me and my life so much that it's almost selfish. In fact it's probably selfish of me for making you read this about me right now.
Yet while coming to India can be seen as one of the most selfish things a person can do, it's a kind of selfishness that can only be beneficial to the world (change yourself, change the world and all that malarky), and the people that you love. So on that note, I think my friends and family will be relieved to know that I'm going to spare them of my presence for a little while longer!
Dreams ... visualizations... realities...
Monitor my personal development over the past six months and you will see it ricochets up and down in the violent motion of the zig-zag pattern. I'm now aiming to sustain a living in India without sacrificing my personal freedom. To be free is the ultimate dream and I've met many inspiring characters that have given me the boost I need to never stop trying to achieve that dream.
I ain't through yet!
So I'm not through with India just yet. In fact I don't think I will ever be through with India. Others I've met are ready to move on to pastures new such as Thailand, China, Mongolia even, but me, I'm happy to stay here and suckle on the bosom of Mother India for as long as I possibly can.
Mother India has already taken me a good length of the way to the place I'd like to be. I've come so far, so there's no way I'm ready to stop and turn back around. Not today, not tomorrow. Maybe it could happen the day after, but it will take something very special to tear me away from this land of love.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Mission Nepal with David and Nicola!
Me and Nic!
Picked up Nic from airport and we got a dodgy cab back to our dodgy hotel. The panoramic views of the rubbish dump festering in the heat outside our hotel didn't exactly give off a pleasant smell and felt a far cry from the freshness of the Himalayan range that lay just a few hours away.
Nic's from France, part-English, part-Chinese and lives in Barcelona. She's been my partner in crime for many a moon now. It all began in the Big Smoke during the days when we'd speed on speed through the London Underground to dingy, dodgy sqwats and psytrance parties across the city's underground scene. The Fridge, The Mass, Brixton Academy, George 4, Prince of Wales, Tysen Street Studios, Vauxhall warehouses, ex-government buildings, we were there! We've both evolved over time, but she continues to remain my ultimate partner in crime.
Stoner Princesses of the City
Me and Nic are the stoner princesses not just of the city (Kathamandu), but of the people (all guys) that we're hanging out with right now. Even our room is pink and we only have to walk up one flight of stairs. Nic's been in Nepal a few days now and we've spent a lot of time horizontal, watching movies and catching up. Sometimes we don't move for days, ordering coffee, beer and food to our room and taking it in turns to make breakfast joints. The other day, Nic actually cried while watching the movie, Spiderman! It was that scene right at the end when Spiderman's enemy is lying wounded and they become friends just before he dies. It must have felt like a pretty intense scene to Nic, but come on, It's SPIDERMAN!
So as you can imagine, it's been super swell to re-link with my partner in crime! Six weeks or six months, it doesn't take long to fall back into that Anu-Nicola mode. Here's a conversation we recently had...
Me: Nic..
Nic: what..
Me: You gotta call your uncle and tell him we can't make it. He can't see us in this state.
Nic: He's not my uncle
Me: Whatever. We can't go to a formal dinner looking like this.
20 minutes silence
Me: We've been horizontal all day nic, and look there's no more beer. Maybe we should try and move...
Nic: Mmmm... Oh.
27 minutes silence
Me: are you gonna call your uncle or what?
nic: he's not my fucking uncle!
10 minutes silence
Nic: What am I supposed to do?
Me: Go downstairs and use the phone
22 minutes later
Nic: Okay, come on, we've got to do something today.
Me: What shall we do?
Nic: Let's walk aimlessly around the city.
37 minutes silence
nic: but let's make another jay first
me: you do it.
nic: nooooo, you do it...
Francisco enters the room with Jerry and Pete. They all stare at us with blank expressions.
Francisco: (sounding totally blasé and unsurprised). You two are still lying in the same position I left you in four hours ago.
Me: Let's get the fuck out of Kathamandu, this city's driving me insane
31 minutes silence
Nicola is either staring into space or examining the yellow patch on the ceiling with a great level of intensity.
27 minutes later
Nic: I wanna go to the jungle...
*****
Les Aventeurs Psychedelique du Nicola e Moi!
Dodgy
So we found our first psychedelic trance party in Nepal. Dodgy or what! A private bus arranged by organisers took us up steep, nail-bitingly narrow and windy roads to a secret location in the Pokhara mountains with views of the Phewa Lake deep down below.
One of the organisers, Giri, had told me that his parties were geared for foreigners only. I found out why when it got invaded by a bunch of locals pissed off at the amount of money organisers were making from having a party on their land.
The organisers tried to convince us that the locals were the bad guys, but they couldn't have been further from the truth. Inevitably, the music was switched off and the decks packed away after Giri and his cronies recieved a bamboo massage that they had probably asked for. Considering the numbers that were there I suppose it was worth their while at 2000 rupees a pop.
You could say that Giri is slightly psychotic. He stopped the bus and a load of guys jumped off to place huge stones at wheels of said bus to stop it sliding backwards. In the meantime, he proceeded to scream, “I wanna check all your fucking tickets! Any motherfucker without a ticket is getting kicked off this bus! You think you can make a fool out of me? You think so? I run this show, so don't fuck with me!”
Russian Roulette
A Russian girl with balls of steel gave him a piece of her mind, “Shut the fuck up! I have a gun in my bag and I'm gonna put a bullet through your fucking head if you ask to see our tickets again!” He responded: “Any mother fucker wants to kill me, I give them $50,000 to do it now! Just try and kill me and I'll kill all you mother fuckers without a ticket! I'm the mafia here in Pokhara, I run this fucking place!” The guy was steaming. His eyes were bloodshot and he was sweating profusely. I think he was probably a “bit” agitated because he needed a fix. We all stared at him with frozen smiles, trying to make the situation appear a little lighter, but it was evident he was also trying to show off and that in itself gave us some peace of mind.
Mountain Madness
Luckily, a European DJ who calls himself DJ Quick fixed the music situation with a load of banging psychedelic trance CDs / MP3s, taking over the sound system when the decks were packed away. The music on CD was better than the live sets. We boogied until about 8am and then trekked back down the mountain. It was an exhausting yet challenging mission. You could say we did our first (and only) trek through the Nepalese mountains. Steep, narrow pathways surrounded by thick jungle shrubbery (felt a bit like Lord of the Rings at the time) continued to cascade down for about three hours until we got to the foothills and finally found some flat terrain, landing in a tiny teashop.
The locals were bemused but it was impossible to speak. Stillness was bliss as we sat there sweating, tripping from the experience, and feeling far, far away... A sweet Nepalese woman handed out bananas until Nicola managed to muster enough energy to say, “water”. You could say it was quite an experience.
Chasing Waterfalls
From Pokhara to a place about half way to Kathamandu, me and Nic joined a group of others for a waterfall abseiling adventure. They call it “Canyoning” and they've only started doing it in Nepal for the first time this year. Did I shit myself? Of course I did! The initial trek to the top of the cascading waterfalls took about 40 minutes. We climbed into wetsuits, put on our helmets and were shown the rope technique for abseiling down. The waterfalls got bigger and bigger and the grand finale was about fifty-four metres high.
Don't shout at me.
I didn't quite get the hang of it to begin with and the instructor was shouting at me like an army official as I hung precariously from a piece of rope. It's his job to shout, but he didn't need to shout when I'm hanging just inches away from him! His shouting only confused me so I told him to speak to me with respect!
Anger comes from fear...
Even though they had grand plans to lower me down, there was no way I was going to let them do that to me with everyone else watching down below. I'd felt anger but realised my anger was coming from fear, so I pulled it together and abseiled down all on me own-some, yay! To be honest, I was pretty relieved when the day was over, but also felt a sense of achievement. Would I do it again? Hell, yeah!
David! (Daffyd!)
The adrenaline junkie that he is, David definitely made the right choice when he made that spontaneous decision to drop in on me and Nicola in Nepal! We linked up with David for a jungle safari escapade at Chitwan National Park in Sauhara, south of Pokhara, right after our waterfall adventure. You could say that David, like Nicola, is also my partner in crime. He loves to climb mountains and is out here for the long term to travel both Nepal and India. Me and David have put up with each for a good few years now so I guess you can say that he knows me a little too well at times! But I also know him and I have a feeling that this adventure to India that we are about to embark is going to be full of plenty of thrills and spills! David is also determined to drag me up Everest come October when I aim to be back in Nepal to renew my Indian visa. We both have a sense of adventure and the ability to be totally blunt each other. We're also fairly independent as individuals, so if he wants to go his own way, he knows that he can, and vice versa. Unlike me, David is highly organised and well prepared. He's also clued up and sensitive, yet has ability to unleash the monkey within (doesn't take much), which is why we can wind each other up without worrying about offending the other. Daffyd, dear Daffyd, do you know what you're getting yourself into here?!
Jungle Tiger Combat Girls (and Boy)!
The feeling that comes with experiencing a jungle safari and elephant bathtime in Nepal with two of my closest friends is not something that I can describe. Imagine a tin can with a tiny marble being shaken about inside it – that's me, the marble; or a metal ball in a pinball machine - again, that's me, the ball, ricocheting about the place like a lunatic - well that's how I felt inside. I had to contain myself you see. It was one of my biggest challenges as David's arrival was a surprise for Nicola...
Chitwan National Park is about nine hours south of Pokhara. The jungle spreads across 936 square kilometres of lush, vibrant green vegetation. We discovered weird and wonderful plants, including one leafy specie known to be good for diahrhea and which tasted like Granny Smith apples. We saw rhino, deer, monkeys and birds, but unfortunately, to our great disapointment, we didn't come across any tigers or cobras.
Trekking through jungle was followed by elephant safari. We were ram
sacked by the branches of towering trees. Until you're actually sitting on the elephant itself, you don't really imagine to be so high off the ground. In fact to get on the elephant herself, we had to climb up what I can only describe as an elephant-rocket launcher thing. She was absolutely humungous, yet so sweet, not to mention, feminine in the way she appeared to pirouet when she scratched her back legs!
Bathtime with Puja Kali the Magical Elephant
I seem to have a fear of absolutely everything sometimes, but these experiences are good practice to get over those fears. I mean, how on earth can anyone be afraid of an elephant that's as soft, gentle and as sweet as Puja Kali? Nicola and David had already experienced their elephant bathtime, so now it was my turn and they practically bullied me, forced me, in fact, physically pushed me on to that elephant. I finally got on and realised that she was surprisingly hairy, her skin a hard, leathery texture. The guy maneuvering her was evidently having the time of his life doing this job. I guess now, I can understand why.
Puja Kali also happened to be David's elephant. Remembering him from the day before, she greeted him with her trunk. The experience was immense. She strode into the water dunking right in and sending me flying. Climbing back on, she gave me a bathtime of a lifetime spraying me numerous time and clearly having a fine time! I was somewhere else, somewhere in elephant paradise, and loving every single magical second. I can't wait to go back to Chitwan Park to meet Puja Kali once again!
Picked up Nic from airport and we got a dodgy cab back to our dodgy hotel. The panoramic views of the rubbish dump festering in the heat outside our hotel didn't exactly give off a pleasant smell and felt a far cry from the freshness of the Himalayan range that lay just a few hours away.
Nic's from France, part-English, part-Chinese and lives in Barcelona. She's been my partner in crime for many a moon now. It all began in the Big Smoke during the days when we'd speed on speed through the London Underground to dingy, dodgy sqwats and psytrance parties across the city's underground scene. The Fridge, The Mass, Brixton Academy, George 4, Prince of Wales, Tysen Street Studios, Vauxhall warehouses, ex-government buildings, we were there! We've both evolved over time, but she continues to remain my ultimate partner in crime.
Stoner Princesses of the City
Me and Nic are the stoner princesses not just of the city (Kathamandu), but of the people (all guys) that we're hanging out with right now. Even our room is pink and we only have to walk up one flight of stairs. Nic's been in Nepal a few days now and we've spent a lot of time horizontal, watching movies and catching up. Sometimes we don't move for days, ordering coffee, beer and food to our room and taking it in turns to make breakfast joints. The other day, Nic actually cried while watching the movie, Spiderman! It was that scene right at the end when Spiderman's enemy is lying wounded and they become friends just before he dies. It must have felt like a pretty intense scene to Nic, but come on, It's SPIDERMAN!
So as you can imagine, it's been super swell to re-link with my partner in crime! Six weeks or six months, it doesn't take long to fall back into that Anu-Nicola mode. Here's a conversation we recently had...
Me: Nic..
Nic: what..
Me: You gotta call your uncle and tell him we can't make it. He can't see us in this state.
Nic: He's not my uncle
Me: Whatever. We can't go to a formal dinner looking like this.
20 minutes silence
Me: We've been horizontal all day nic, and look there's no more beer. Maybe we should try and move...
Nic: Mmmm... Oh.
27 minutes silence
Me: are you gonna call your uncle or what?
nic: he's not my fucking uncle!
10 minutes silence
Nic: What am I supposed to do?
Me: Go downstairs and use the phone
22 minutes later
Nic: Okay, come on, we've got to do something today.
Me: What shall we do?
Nic: Let's walk aimlessly around the city.
37 minutes silence
nic: but let's make another jay first
me: you do it.
nic: nooooo, you do it...
Francisco enters the room with Jerry and Pete. They all stare at us with blank expressions.
Francisco: (sounding totally blasé and unsurprised). You two are still lying in the same position I left you in four hours ago.
Me: Let's get the fuck out of Kathamandu, this city's driving me insane
31 minutes silence
Nicola is either staring into space or examining the yellow patch on the ceiling with a great level of intensity.
27 minutes later
Nic: I wanna go to the jungle...
*****
Les Aventeurs Psychedelique du Nicola e Moi!
Dodgy
So we found our first psychedelic trance party in Nepal. Dodgy or what! A private bus arranged by organisers took us up steep, nail-bitingly narrow and windy roads to a secret location in the Pokhara mountains with views of the Phewa Lake deep down below.
One of the organisers, Giri, had told me that his parties were geared for foreigners only. I found out why when it got invaded by a bunch of locals pissed off at the amount of money organisers were making from having a party on their land.
The organisers tried to convince us that the locals were the bad guys, but they couldn't have been further from the truth. Inevitably, the music was switched off and the decks packed away after Giri and his cronies recieved a bamboo massage that they had probably asked for. Considering the numbers that were there I suppose it was worth their while at 2000 rupees a pop.
You could say that Giri is slightly psychotic. He stopped the bus and a load of guys jumped off to place huge stones at wheels of said bus to stop it sliding backwards. In the meantime, he proceeded to scream, “I wanna check all your fucking tickets! Any motherfucker without a ticket is getting kicked off this bus! You think you can make a fool out of me? You think so? I run this show, so don't fuck with me!”
Russian Roulette
A Russian girl with balls of steel gave him a piece of her mind, “Shut the fuck up! I have a gun in my bag and I'm gonna put a bullet through your fucking head if you ask to see our tickets again!” He responded: “Any mother fucker wants to kill me, I give them $50,000 to do it now! Just try and kill me and I'll kill all you mother fuckers without a ticket! I'm the mafia here in Pokhara, I run this fucking place!” The guy was steaming. His eyes were bloodshot and he was sweating profusely. I think he was probably a “bit” agitated because he needed a fix. We all stared at him with frozen smiles, trying to make the situation appear a little lighter, but it was evident he was also trying to show off and that in itself gave us some peace of mind.
Mountain Madness
Luckily, a European DJ who calls himself DJ Quick fixed the music situation with a load of banging psychedelic trance CDs / MP3s, taking over the sound system when the decks were packed away. The music on CD was better than the live sets. We boogied until about 8am and then trekked back down the mountain. It was an exhausting yet challenging mission. You could say we did our first (and only) trek through the Nepalese mountains. Steep, narrow pathways surrounded by thick jungle shrubbery (felt a bit like Lord of the Rings at the time) continued to cascade down for about three hours until we got to the foothills and finally found some flat terrain, landing in a tiny teashop.
The locals were bemused but it was impossible to speak. Stillness was bliss as we sat there sweating, tripping from the experience, and feeling far, far away... A sweet Nepalese woman handed out bananas until Nicola managed to muster enough energy to say, “water”. You could say it was quite an experience.
Chasing Waterfalls
From Pokhara to a place about half way to Kathamandu, me and Nic joined a group of others for a waterfall abseiling adventure. They call it “Canyoning” and they've only started doing it in Nepal for the first time this year. Did I shit myself? Of course I did! The initial trek to the top of the cascading waterfalls took about 40 minutes. We climbed into wetsuits, put on our helmets and were shown the rope technique for abseiling down. The waterfalls got bigger and bigger and the grand finale was about fifty-four metres high.
Don't shout at me.
I didn't quite get the hang of it to begin with and the instructor was shouting at me like an army official as I hung precariously from a piece of rope. It's his job to shout, but he didn't need to shout when I'm hanging just inches away from him! His shouting only confused me so I told him to speak to me with respect!
Anger comes from fear...
Even though they had grand plans to lower me down, there was no way I was going to let them do that to me with everyone else watching down below. I'd felt anger but realised my anger was coming from fear, so I pulled it together and abseiled down all on me own-some, yay! To be honest, I was pretty relieved when the day was over, but also felt a sense of achievement. Would I do it again? Hell, yeah!
David! (Daffyd!)
The adrenaline junkie that he is, David definitely made the right choice when he made that spontaneous decision to drop in on me and Nicola in Nepal! We linked up with David for a jungle safari escapade at Chitwan National Park in Sauhara, south of Pokhara, right after our waterfall adventure. You could say that David, like Nicola, is also my partner in crime. He loves to climb mountains and is out here for the long term to travel both Nepal and India. Me and David have put up with each for a good few years now so I guess you can say that he knows me a little too well at times! But I also know him and I have a feeling that this adventure to India that we are about to embark is going to be full of plenty of thrills and spills! David is also determined to drag me up Everest come October when I aim to be back in Nepal to renew my Indian visa. We both have a sense of adventure and the ability to be totally blunt each other. We're also fairly independent as individuals, so if he wants to go his own way, he knows that he can, and vice versa. Unlike me, David is highly organised and well prepared. He's also clued up and sensitive, yet has ability to unleash the monkey within (doesn't take much), which is why we can wind each other up without worrying about offending the other. Daffyd, dear Daffyd, do you know what you're getting yourself into here?!
Jungle Tiger Combat Girls (and Boy)!
The feeling that comes with experiencing a jungle safari and elephant bathtime in Nepal with two of my closest friends is not something that I can describe. Imagine a tin can with a tiny marble being shaken about inside it – that's me, the marble; or a metal ball in a pinball machine - again, that's me, the ball, ricocheting about the place like a lunatic - well that's how I felt inside. I had to contain myself you see. It was one of my biggest challenges as David's arrival was a surprise for Nicola...
Chitwan National Park is about nine hours south of Pokhara. The jungle spreads across 936 square kilometres of lush, vibrant green vegetation. We discovered weird and wonderful plants, including one leafy specie known to be good for diahrhea and which tasted like Granny Smith apples. We saw rhino, deer, monkeys and birds, but unfortunately, to our great disapointment, we didn't come across any tigers or cobras.
Trekking through jungle was followed by elephant safari. We were ram
sacked by the branches of towering trees. Until you're actually sitting on the elephant itself, you don't really imagine to be so high off the ground. In fact to get on the elephant herself, we had to climb up what I can only describe as an elephant-rocket launcher thing. She was absolutely humungous, yet so sweet, not to mention, feminine in the way she appeared to pirouet when she scratched her back legs!
Bathtime with Puja Kali the Magical Elephant
I seem to have a fear of absolutely everything sometimes, but these experiences are good practice to get over those fears. I mean, how on earth can anyone be afraid of an elephant that's as soft, gentle and as sweet as Puja Kali? Nicola and David had already experienced their elephant bathtime, so now it was my turn and they practically bullied me, forced me, in fact, physically pushed me on to that elephant. I finally got on and realised that she was surprisingly hairy, her skin a hard, leathery texture. The guy maneuvering her was evidently having the time of his life doing this job. I guess now, I can understand why.
Puja Kali also happened to be David's elephant. Remembering him from the day before, she greeted him with her trunk. The experience was immense. She strode into the water dunking right in and sending me flying. Climbing back on, she gave me a bathtime of a lifetime spraying me numerous time and clearly having a fine time! I was somewhere else, somewhere in elephant paradise, and loving every single magical second. I can't wait to go back to Chitwan Park to meet Puja Kali once again!
Uncle Nepal!
The thought of traveling three-hours by donkey cart to happy clappy doo-dah was too much, so me and Francisco gave the Rainbow Gathering a miss and made a beeline for the Nepalese border instead.
Emiliano the Universal Wanderer
We met Emiliano along the way. He's a wannabe baba and a lost soul from Mexico who spent days walking barefoot around the jungle. Emiliano made a spontaneous decision to come with us to Nepal. Spiritual about everything, he leaves everything in the hands of the universe and floats about with a romantic vision of the world. I think at times, his approach does get the better of him and this was one of those times because we discovered he was completely strapped for cash. We helped him as much as we could and I advised him to take care of himself because the universe will not get rid of that gangerine on his foot! Emiliano is a very special person and it hurt me to see him hurting himself like this. So I took him to the doctor to get him fixed and left him at the border. Maika, a German girl I recently traveled with said that if our connection is profound enough, we will meet at least twice. I hope that one day I get to meet Emiliano again.
David the Psychedelic Canadian
With his bright psychedelic shirts and dry sense of humour, David the psychedelic Canadian was a comical character to travel with. We spent the best part of a week with David and did nothing but laugh, smoke and joke at everything we saw. He does these mean impressions of Borat and we spent most of the time being silly. He has a great sense of humour and found my version of the Canadian national anthem to be highly amusing! David is 45-years old and imports leather jackets from Thailand for Harley Davidson freaks in Canada. He's also into jewellery and seems to know his stuff. He was highly enthusiastic about taking us to a strip club in Kathamandu. I was totally up for it, but to David's disapointment, the novelty wore off, so we ended up at a Nepalese dancing girls club instead.
Nepal – the up side
People
The people are beautiful, they smile from the heart, and they are kind, genererous and helpful. You could say the people of Nepal are “same-same but different” to Indians - meaning they say yes to everything and are so polite that they wouldn't dare offend you by telling you that they don't know, prefering to send you off in the wrong direction instead! It's adorable but can get on your goat, so after some time, you learn to pressure them politely into admitting whether they really do mean yes or no when they give that wobble of the head.
Kathamandu
A concentrated bubble of intensity, Kathamandu is like a toned down version of Bangkok. With its “shower bars”, stripper joints and dancing girls clubs, it has a seedy charm and by night, all you hear is the sound of live rock music blaring from bars and pubs. Everything shuts by around 11pm, but there are some pretty cool joints to go hang out. Kathamandu is brimming with life in the daytime too but you find yourself dodging traffic every second you walk down the street. It's chaos personified, but if you've seen Delhi, then this really is nothing!
The rest...
Nepal really is a very beautiful place. The scenery is pure magic and you will be glued to the window as your bus journeys through the mountains, bringing you views of sweeping valleys, gorges, powerful rivers and a voluptuous landscape. There's also plenty of adventure sports, jungle safaris, elephant bathtime, lots of Buddhist stupas, great shopping and nice smokes.
Nepal – on the down side
What do in Kathamandu?
First and foremost: the power cuts! What to in Kathamandu? No power no shower, 24 hour! Now I know why they say this! It goes off about 9pm every night and the city is overcome with darkness, bringing out many a dodgy dude. The vampires come out at night, but even they have a curfew with the streets so quiet by 11pm, that you could hear the sound of a pin drop.
Expensive
You have to pay for everything in Nepal, so in a word, Nepal is EXPENSIVE. At $25 and $50 for a two and four week visa respectively, it costs top dollar just to stay in the country. Kathamandu, Bandipur, Pokhara, Everest, Anapurna, Chitwan – these are the main tourist areas and everything within them is geared up for tourists with too much money and not enough time - once again, making Nepal an expensive destination for the discerning traveler. Guide books for going off the beaten track are crap. You could probably do it though, but it's worth getting friendly with some of the locals to check out the best spots first.
If you want to see the Himalayan range, then you pay for the Anapurna Trek, the Everest Base Camp trek and other treks, so it's a bit like paying just to be in the nature. Small villages such as Bandipur have become top tourist destinations for trainspotter trekker types. In fact we spent a good amount of time taking the piss out specky anaraks in sensible walking shoes and baseball caps (worn back to front).
Small and quaint, Bandipur is home to the Newari tribes of Nepal, but it seems that alongside the guesthouses, restaurants and cafes, they too have become part of the tourist attraction.
Unless you like trekking or adventure sports, there's not really much to do in Nepal. Adrenalin junkies will love how white water rafting, abseiling, canyoning, paragliding etc is available on tap, but once again... it'll cost you top dollar baby!
At bars, cafes and restaurants, they add a 10% service charge, V AT and TAX. You also have to pay to enter various squares around the main city of Kathamandu, and the food is plastic tourist shit that costs a shit load of money.
Political climate
The political situation has been volatile in Nepal for the last decade. The current climate is prone to road blocks and mass Maoist demonstrations, so like me, you could find yourself stuck on a bus for eight hours, and sharing a seat with nine others in the baking heat because some idiot has decided to park his truck across the road. Nepal is probably the only country in the world with two armies and the Maoists and government are currently in cahoots over power, revealing the levels of corruption in the country.
Emiliano the Universal Wanderer
We met Emiliano along the way. He's a wannabe baba and a lost soul from Mexico who spent days walking barefoot around the jungle. Emiliano made a spontaneous decision to come with us to Nepal. Spiritual about everything, he leaves everything in the hands of the universe and floats about with a romantic vision of the world. I think at times, his approach does get the better of him and this was one of those times because we discovered he was completely strapped for cash. We helped him as much as we could and I advised him to take care of himself because the universe will not get rid of that gangerine on his foot! Emiliano is a very special person and it hurt me to see him hurting himself like this. So I took him to the doctor to get him fixed and left him at the border. Maika, a German girl I recently traveled with said that if our connection is profound enough, we will meet at least twice. I hope that one day I get to meet Emiliano again.
David the Psychedelic Canadian
With his bright psychedelic shirts and dry sense of humour, David the psychedelic Canadian was a comical character to travel with. We spent the best part of a week with David and did nothing but laugh, smoke and joke at everything we saw. He does these mean impressions of Borat and we spent most of the time being silly. He has a great sense of humour and found my version of the Canadian national anthem to be highly amusing! David is 45-years old and imports leather jackets from Thailand for Harley Davidson freaks in Canada. He's also into jewellery and seems to know his stuff. He was highly enthusiastic about taking us to a strip club in Kathamandu. I was totally up for it, but to David's disapointment, the novelty wore off, so we ended up at a Nepalese dancing girls club instead.
Nepal – the up side
People
The people are beautiful, they smile from the heart, and they are kind, genererous and helpful. You could say the people of Nepal are “same-same but different” to Indians - meaning they say yes to everything and are so polite that they wouldn't dare offend you by telling you that they don't know, prefering to send you off in the wrong direction instead! It's adorable but can get on your goat, so after some time, you learn to pressure them politely into admitting whether they really do mean yes or no when they give that wobble of the head.
Kathamandu
A concentrated bubble of intensity, Kathamandu is like a toned down version of Bangkok. With its “shower bars”, stripper joints and dancing girls clubs, it has a seedy charm and by night, all you hear is the sound of live rock music blaring from bars and pubs. Everything shuts by around 11pm, but there are some pretty cool joints to go hang out. Kathamandu is brimming with life in the daytime too but you find yourself dodging traffic every second you walk down the street. It's chaos personified, but if you've seen Delhi, then this really is nothing!
The rest...
Nepal really is a very beautiful place. The scenery is pure magic and you will be glued to the window as your bus journeys through the mountains, bringing you views of sweeping valleys, gorges, powerful rivers and a voluptuous landscape. There's also plenty of adventure sports, jungle safaris, elephant bathtime, lots of Buddhist stupas, great shopping and nice smokes.
Nepal – on the down side
What do in Kathamandu?
First and foremost: the power cuts! What to in Kathamandu? No power no shower, 24 hour! Now I know why they say this! It goes off about 9pm every night and the city is overcome with darkness, bringing out many a dodgy dude. The vampires come out at night, but even they have a curfew with the streets so quiet by 11pm, that you could hear the sound of a pin drop.
Expensive
You have to pay for everything in Nepal, so in a word, Nepal is EXPENSIVE. At $25 and $50 for a two and four week visa respectively, it costs top dollar just to stay in the country. Kathamandu, Bandipur, Pokhara, Everest, Anapurna, Chitwan – these are the main tourist areas and everything within them is geared up for tourists with too much money and not enough time - once again, making Nepal an expensive destination for the discerning traveler. Guide books for going off the beaten track are crap. You could probably do it though, but it's worth getting friendly with some of the locals to check out the best spots first.
If you want to see the Himalayan range, then you pay for the Anapurna Trek, the Everest Base Camp trek and other treks, so it's a bit like paying just to be in the nature. Small villages such as Bandipur have become top tourist destinations for trainspotter trekker types. In fact we spent a good amount of time taking the piss out specky anaraks in sensible walking shoes and baseball caps (worn back to front).
Small and quaint, Bandipur is home to the Newari tribes of Nepal, but it seems that alongside the guesthouses, restaurants and cafes, they too have become part of the tourist attraction.
Unless you like trekking or adventure sports, there's not really much to do in Nepal. Adrenalin junkies will love how white water rafting, abseiling, canyoning, paragliding etc is available on tap, but once again... it'll cost you top dollar baby!
At bars, cafes and restaurants, they add a 10% service charge, V AT and TAX. You also have to pay to enter various squares around the main city of Kathamandu, and the food is plastic tourist shit that costs a shit load of money.
Political climate
The political situation has been volatile in Nepal for the last decade. The current climate is prone to road blocks and mass Maoist demonstrations, so like me, you could find yourself stuck on a bus for eight hours, and sharing a seat with nine others in the baking heat because some idiot has decided to park his truck across the road. Nepal is probably the only country in the world with two armies and the Maoists and government are currently in cahoots over power, revealing the levels of corruption in the country.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Rishikesh Land of the Baba
From Ice to Fire
Jumping from ice to fire in a matter of 24 hours is no joke. Diving into the sweltering heat from the finger-numbing ice vapours of the mountains has taken its toll and acclimatizing is trippy.
Land of the Baba
They're everywhere and it's difficul to tell which ones are real. One of them tried to sell me some hash today. He was a cool baba and gave me the spiritual sign of hands together raised to the head when I told him I was sorted.
“Wanted” Can you perform tantric sex? Are you able to stand on your head, stick out tongue and make series of strange sounds? Can you make smoke fume from nose, ears and arsehole and juggle testicles at same time? If yes, then read on!
Professional Baba wanted to take care of da cool runnings of tings in tourist hubs of India. Must have long beard and dreadlocks. Chillum and supply of hashish is essential to spiritual validity. Proven track record must include abiity to transform Self into various forms and travel to different parts of country at same time. Must be at one with self, have ability to elevate off ground, stand on finger, suck big toe and smoke chillum with nostrils, again, at same time. If you are a natural in front of camera, can give Oscar-winning performance when blowing from chillum and out-smoking the idiot filming you, then this is the job for you! Those afraid of bollocks smacking into arse when running butt-naked into holy rivers need not apply. Please send a smoke signal to...”
Propa Baba
Thought we'd try and do a competition involving Oscar for the most promising, authentic looking baba
We found him before we even started looking...
He was sitting on the floor covered from dreadlock to toe in the blackness of the street, sooted up to the eyeballs with snakey things swirling around him while spasmed out in yogic position pulling freaky faces... It happened during a fleeting second when we sped past him on the street in the rickshaw that took us towards Laxman Julha.
Rishikesh
Mother Ganga flows from the locks of Lord Shiva who meditates in the Himalayan range that crosses Himachal Pradesh from east to west. The Ganga rushes into the state of Utteranchal straight from the source. It remains fresh, clean, pure but changes into a murky colour as it gradually stretches into Varanasi, where it becomes a polluted hotbath of deadbodies and excrement. It's the holy river invaded by millions and Varanasi being one of the holiest places in India makes that part of it the most polluted in India. Most spiritual parts of India are polluted because of the billions that converge, yet Rishikesh is something else, pure in the physical as well as the spiritual world.
Bathing in the Ganga
Been in India nearly six months and my resilience continues to be put to the test. I realised that I'm still running around like a whirlwind, even in Rishikesh, where you're meant to allow the waters of the Mother Ganga relax you and take your mind to another place. I felt I'd cheated myself out of the experience because we were about to leave and I still hadn't gone to bathe. Luckily, Francisco dragged me in a few hours before we were due to head for Nepal and even dunked me in fully clothed.
Shall we terrorize the hippies with some psychedelic trance?
So we're heading to Nepal. Rainbow Gathering is enroute so might as well pop in and terrorize the hippies with some psychedelic trance, especially since it's now becoming increasingly clear that we're not gonna make it to Mountain Madness, the big psytrance festie happening near Thamel in Nepal.
Mountain Madness
Think we gonna create our own mountain madness instead... especially when I get to Katamandu to link up with Nicola! Partners in Crime come together! Let's rock with it baby, let's move, let's groove, let's fire it up, let's give it some welly! Josep leaves, Maika as well and Francisco will be off at some point too... A surprise guest is also on his way to India... It's gonna be a brand new phase of my journey... Adventure!
Jumping from ice to fire in a matter of 24 hours is no joke. Diving into the sweltering heat from the finger-numbing ice vapours of the mountains has taken its toll and acclimatizing is trippy.
Land of the Baba
They're everywhere and it's difficul to tell which ones are real. One of them tried to sell me some hash today. He was a cool baba and gave me the spiritual sign of hands together raised to the head when I told him I was sorted.
“Wanted” Can you perform tantric sex? Are you able to stand on your head, stick out tongue and make series of strange sounds? Can you make smoke fume from nose, ears and arsehole and juggle testicles at same time? If yes, then read on!
Professional Baba wanted to take care of da cool runnings of tings in tourist hubs of India. Must have long beard and dreadlocks. Chillum and supply of hashish is essential to spiritual validity. Proven track record must include abiity to transform Self into various forms and travel to different parts of country at same time. Must be at one with self, have ability to elevate off ground, stand on finger, suck big toe and smoke chillum with nostrils, again, at same time. If you are a natural in front of camera, can give Oscar-winning performance when blowing from chillum and out-smoking the idiot filming you, then this is the job for you! Those afraid of bollocks smacking into arse when running butt-naked into holy rivers need not apply. Please send a smoke signal to...”
Propa Baba
Thought we'd try and do a competition involving Oscar for the most promising, authentic looking baba
We found him before we even started looking...
He was sitting on the floor covered from dreadlock to toe in the blackness of the street, sooted up to the eyeballs with snakey things swirling around him while spasmed out in yogic position pulling freaky faces... It happened during a fleeting second when we sped past him on the street in the rickshaw that took us towards Laxman Julha.
Rishikesh
Mother Ganga flows from the locks of Lord Shiva who meditates in the Himalayan range that crosses Himachal Pradesh from east to west. The Ganga rushes into the state of Utteranchal straight from the source. It remains fresh, clean, pure but changes into a murky colour as it gradually stretches into Varanasi, where it becomes a polluted hotbath of deadbodies and excrement. It's the holy river invaded by millions and Varanasi being one of the holiest places in India makes that part of it the most polluted in India. Most spiritual parts of India are polluted because of the billions that converge, yet Rishikesh is something else, pure in the physical as well as the spiritual world.
Bathing in the Ganga
Been in India nearly six months and my resilience continues to be put to the test. I realised that I'm still running around like a whirlwind, even in Rishikesh, where you're meant to allow the waters of the Mother Ganga relax you and take your mind to another place. I felt I'd cheated myself out of the experience because we were about to leave and I still hadn't gone to bathe. Luckily, Francisco dragged me in a few hours before we were due to head for Nepal and even dunked me in fully clothed.
Shall we terrorize the hippies with some psychedelic trance?
So we're heading to Nepal. Rainbow Gathering is enroute so might as well pop in and terrorize the hippies with some psychedelic trance, especially since it's now becoming increasingly clear that we're not gonna make it to Mountain Madness, the big psytrance festie happening near Thamel in Nepal.
Mountain Madness
Think we gonna create our own mountain madness instead... especially when I get to Katamandu to link up with Nicola! Partners in Crime come together! Let's rock with it baby, let's move, let's groove, let's fire it up, let's give it some welly! Josep leaves, Maika as well and Francisco will be off at some point too... A surprise guest is also on his way to India... It's gonna be a brand new phase of my journey... Adventure!
Friday, May 1, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Many Husbands of Me...
Why so many husbands?
When you travel India with a male friend or companion, it's always best to tell the locals that you are husband and wife because they just don't understand how a man and a woman can share a room and be “just friends”. Over the last six months, a number of husbands have come and gone from my life. Here's an intro to just a few of those who have had the courage to put up with me over long periods of time:
Wayne: Remember Motorcycle India? Wayne's the John Wayne of the Indian highway, the cool dude with the long hair and the Royal Enfield. He's the one with the determined spirit and quest for truth in life. He also talks a lot. We covered about 2000 km together from Goa down to Tirruvananmalai in Tamil Nadu. That's a lot of talking. Wayne is very objective about things, scientific about spirituality and says he couldn't bring himself to bow in front of the giant Buddha in Thailand. He believes in logic and science and it annoys the shit outta me sometimes. He's also very frugal and counts every rupee. Has a good sense of humor but the ability to drain you with his energy for talking, talking, talking. Yet one of the best things about Wayne was that he was aware and would occasionally wake up me up mid-conversation to ask me, "are you drifting away again Anu?" - and I'd tell him that he was sapping - but he took it like a soldier. He also made me aware of a few things myself, such as my short temper and ability to lose rag with Indians. He's a super-patient, chilled out, good natured, solid guy, not to mention the best motorcyclist that I have met(well, the only one really, but I can't imagine many people handling the roads as well as he did). We had a super-cool motorcycle adventure with lots of laughs. I put up with his crusty hippy ways and stinky feet and he put up with me. We lasted about six weeks until it was time to go our separate ways: I took off for Goa, followed by Rajasthan, and he delved deeper into the south to Kodai Kanal...
Josep: I rode on the back of Wayne's bike to Hampi and met Josep, only to discover that I had suddenly accumulated two husbands at the same time. Josep became my partner in crime for the next two months. We hit Anantapur to check out the Vicente Ferrer Foundation and were joined by my third husband Joachim. Josep speaks little English and finds my Spanish highly comical and entertaining, but I too ripped the piss out of him: “Is possible mushroom soup, but don't garlic and don't onion!!!! Hokay?” and “One cock please.” and “I saw,I saw” (meaning, it's the same, it's the same). Josep's a legend and bags of fun to travel with. He had total respect for me and knew when to leave me alone by giving me my space. He was also very patient ands tolerated me when I'd take an eternity to get ready, get out of bed or leave the room to go out. I felt like a princess with my breakfast joint and coffee every other morning.
Josep has been working as a journalist in Catalan for the last 35 year and had the sudden inclination to leave his two ex wives and four kids behind for about five months to find space for himself for a change in life. As a result he's the happiest he's ever been. He sees joke in everything. He told me Vicente Ferrer, the founder of the NGO that we went to visit, was dead. Well, that was my interpretation of the rapid Spanish he spoke to me on the phone at the time anyway. I send an email of condolence to the wife of the deceased only to discover the deceased is not deceased. Need I say more…?
Me and Josep spent most of our time laughing. He saw epic dimensions in everything we experienced. His interpretation, vision, translation and analysis of everything was spot on and hilarious at the same time. He's my tio perverto, my dirty old uncle, my tio sucio with his dry sense of humour and ability to laugh until the tears are literally streaming down his face. He takes everything in his stride and we danced, drank, smoked and partied - mainly to Frank Zappa and the Doors. Vodka, gin, rum and beer; spliffs and cigarettes, we had a laugh. We made a music video in Manali and if you see it when I email it to you, you'll know just what I mean... lol :-)
Joachim: Yes, it's gotta be said, that Joachim is a bit of a hottie, and guess what? He thinks he knows it too! At the same time he's very sweet and introspective and takes it like a man when I take the piss out of his macho exterior. Our connection was magnetic, probably because we both have ability to charm the other while remaining cheeky and sarcastic at the same time. He thinks he can have his cake and eat it, but I think I've managed to stick a mirror to his face and made him realise a few things about himself. Joachim is an ex-boxer and creative carpenter from Norway. He was inspired to join me and Josep on our next adventure. Despite out flirtatious connection, I stayed well clear of falling for his charming ways, yet at the same time, I also found it fun to humor him! From Hampi to Anantapur and then on to Bangalore, linking again in Rajasthan and traveling to Delhi – that was the breadth of the journey we traveled together. He's a Libra and I'm a Saggitarious, so true to the nature of our star signs, it was a case of “should we shouldn't we” - which made for great entertainment. But did we or didn't we...? What I can say is that we had lots of stomach-clenching laughs, plenty of reflective conversations, and an experience of India, that together with Wayne and Josep, we won't ever forget. He's certainly found a friend in me.
Francisco: Josep left me in Rishikesh as he was heading back down to Rajasthan for a few days before getting on the choo-choo down to Mumbai to catch flight back to Spain. I was sad and tearful to see him go, but it was time to move on and I know that we will link again in the not-too-distant future. So my new husband comes in the form of Francisco, an Argentinean lawyer and football player from Buenas Aires. A gentleman in the truest sense of the word, I am nothing less than a princess for Francisco. Me and Josep hung out with him for about 10 days in Dharamasala and he joined us on the trip to Rishikesh. So I guess it's just the two of us - and he makes a fine speciman of a husband indeed. Sometimes he's my adopted brother, rescued from the slums by my parents and given a home. But most of the time, he's my husband. Our lawyer-journalist status gets us places, especially across the Nepalese border when it was still closed. Traveling with Francisco for a few weeks made me realise a lot of things about myself. He stuck a mirror to my face and helped me become more aware of the things that I try not to face about myself. For example, the fact that I can be a nasty bitch at times, ability to lose temper and my lack of patience. He's a real angel, a gentle soul and sees the best in people. Francisco brings me coffee in bed and will go out and buy the food for midnight snacks. He also tried to help me get my camera back, confronting the evil junkie, Karma, in Dharamasala. Francisco is a sweetie that's probably a lot more clued up than I ever was at his age. He's a great travel companion and we get along just fine!
When you travel India with a male friend or companion, it's always best to tell the locals that you are husband and wife because they just don't understand how a man and a woman can share a room and be “just friends”. Over the last six months, a number of husbands have come and gone from my life. Here's an intro to just a few of those who have had the courage to put up with me over long periods of time:
Wayne: Remember Motorcycle India? Wayne's the John Wayne of the Indian highway, the cool dude with the long hair and the Royal Enfield. He's the one with the determined spirit and quest for truth in life. He also talks a lot. We covered about 2000 km together from Goa down to Tirruvananmalai in Tamil Nadu. That's a lot of talking. Wayne is very objective about things, scientific about spirituality and says he couldn't bring himself to bow in front of the giant Buddha in Thailand. He believes in logic and science and it annoys the shit outta me sometimes. He's also very frugal and counts every rupee. Has a good sense of humor but the ability to drain you with his energy for talking, talking, talking. Yet one of the best things about Wayne was that he was aware and would occasionally wake up me up mid-conversation to ask me, "are you drifting away again Anu?" - and I'd tell him that he was sapping - but he took it like a soldier. He also made me aware of a few things myself, such as my short temper and ability to lose rag with Indians. He's a super-patient, chilled out, good natured, solid guy, not to mention the best motorcyclist that I have met(well, the only one really, but I can't imagine many people handling the roads as well as he did). We had a super-cool motorcycle adventure with lots of laughs. I put up with his crusty hippy ways and stinky feet and he put up with me. We lasted about six weeks until it was time to go our separate ways: I took off for Goa, followed by Rajasthan, and he delved deeper into the south to Kodai Kanal...
Josep: I rode on the back of Wayne's bike to Hampi and met Josep, only to discover that I had suddenly accumulated two husbands at the same time. Josep became my partner in crime for the next two months. We hit Anantapur to check out the Vicente Ferrer Foundation and were joined by my third husband Joachim. Josep speaks little English and finds my Spanish highly comical and entertaining, but I too ripped the piss out of him: “Is possible mushroom soup, but don't garlic and don't onion!!!! Hokay?” and “One cock please.” and “I saw,I saw” (meaning, it's the same, it's the same). Josep's a legend and bags of fun to travel with. He had total respect for me and knew when to leave me alone by giving me my space. He was also very patient ands tolerated me when I'd take an eternity to get ready, get out of bed or leave the room to go out. I felt like a princess with my breakfast joint and coffee every other morning.
Josep has been working as a journalist in Catalan for the last 35 year and had the sudden inclination to leave his two ex wives and four kids behind for about five months to find space for himself for a change in life. As a result he's the happiest he's ever been. He sees joke in everything. He told me Vicente Ferrer, the founder of the NGO that we went to visit, was dead. Well, that was my interpretation of the rapid Spanish he spoke to me on the phone at the time anyway. I send an email of condolence to the wife of the deceased only to discover the deceased is not deceased. Need I say more…?
Me and Josep spent most of our time laughing. He saw epic dimensions in everything we experienced. His interpretation, vision, translation and analysis of everything was spot on and hilarious at the same time. He's my tio perverto, my dirty old uncle, my tio sucio with his dry sense of humour and ability to laugh until the tears are literally streaming down his face. He takes everything in his stride and we danced, drank, smoked and partied - mainly to Frank Zappa and the Doors. Vodka, gin, rum and beer; spliffs and cigarettes, we had a laugh. We made a music video in Manali and if you see it when I email it to you, you'll know just what I mean... lol :-)
Joachim: Yes, it's gotta be said, that Joachim is a bit of a hottie, and guess what? He thinks he knows it too! At the same time he's very sweet and introspective and takes it like a man when I take the piss out of his macho exterior. Our connection was magnetic, probably because we both have ability to charm the other while remaining cheeky and sarcastic at the same time. He thinks he can have his cake and eat it, but I think I've managed to stick a mirror to his face and made him realise a few things about himself. Joachim is an ex-boxer and creative carpenter from Norway. He was inspired to join me and Josep on our next adventure. Despite out flirtatious connection, I stayed well clear of falling for his charming ways, yet at the same time, I also found it fun to humor him! From Hampi to Anantapur and then on to Bangalore, linking again in Rajasthan and traveling to Delhi – that was the breadth of the journey we traveled together. He's a Libra and I'm a Saggitarious, so true to the nature of our star signs, it was a case of “should we shouldn't we” - which made for great entertainment. But did we or didn't we...? What I can say is that we had lots of stomach-clenching laughs, plenty of reflective conversations, and an experience of India, that together with Wayne and Josep, we won't ever forget. He's certainly found a friend in me.
Francisco: Josep left me in Rishikesh as he was heading back down to Rajasthan for a few days before getting on the choo-choo down to Mumbai to catch flight back to Spain. I was sad and tearful to see him go, but it was time to move on and I know that we will link again in the not-too-distant future. So my new husband comes in the form of Francisco, an Argentinean lawyer and football player from Buenas Aires. A gentleman in the truest sense of the word, I am nothing less than a princess for Francisco. Me and Josep hung out with him for about 10 days in Dharamasala and he joined us on the trip to Rishikesh. So I guess it's just the two of us - and he makes a fine speciman of a husband indeed. Sometimes he's my adopted brother, rescued from the slums by my parents and given a home. But most of the time, he's my husband. Our lawyer-journalist status gets us places, especially across the Nepalese border when it was still closed. Traveling with Francisco for a few weeks made me realise a lot of things about myself. He stuck a mirror to my face and helped me become more aware of the things that I try not to face about myself. For example, the fact that I can be a nasty bitch at times, ability to lose temper and my lack of patience. He's a real angel, a gentle soul and sees the best in people. Francisco brings me coffee in bed and will go out and buy the food for midnight snacks. He also tried to help me get my camera back, confronting the evil junkie, Karma, in Dharamasala. Francisco is a sweetie that's probably a lot more clued up than I ever was at his age. He's a great travel companion and we get along just fine!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Himachal Pradesh - up in the mountains!
Warm me up Scotty!
Brrrrrrr! It's cold! I'm wearing about four layers and I'm going to bed with the same layers for the last two nights now. It's freezing and it was freezing the night I arrived. From the sun-drenched mayhem we experienced during Holi in Pushkar to the cold, rainy Himalayan climate - it's an exhilarating contrast and I love it!
Busin it...
Bus journey from Amritsar to Manali epic. Flew off seat on countless occasions, was squashed into window with rucksack on top of me, zip on bag broke, crumbs everywhere, snoozed in awkward positions, smoked in secret, tried to avoid conversations with dodgy men, took 18-hours and three buses to get there... (moan, moan, moan)... Anyway - I made it. Manali is stunning. The Himalayas frame the valley we are in. There are plantations behind the mountain and it tastes good brother, it tastes real good. Fresh mountain air... Boy, I never knew I missed it so much...
Adding havoc to havoc
Josep was totally surprised when I turned up out the blue during the small hours of the night. Think he'd given up on me turning up at all. We're sharing room and it's costing 125 rupees each. There's hot water but it stays hot for five minutes. We're both unorganised and the room's a fucking mess. I arrive and add havoc to havoc. Empty cigarette packets, bottles of beer, books, bags, scarves, toileteries, computers, hard drives, speakers, wires, cables, an avalanche of clothes all over the place.
Manali was fun but three days was enough. Novelty of rain wore off on second day so we took off for Dharamsala.
Fifty Years in Exile
Monks with mobiles and youngsters in bling, this is the image of Tibetans in the exiled capital of Tibet today.
Save Tibet – a great marketing tool for the Indian government, has been churning in top dollar. Dalai Lama's approach towards the cultural genocide has won the hearts and minds of the world, his teachings of Buddhist philosohies have changed the lives of millions. This has been the effect of the Tibetan people on the world and Buddhism has carried them there. It's a powerful thing and the Chinese are threatened by it. The Tibetans are the nomads of the world, but the world is taking care of them and will continue to take care of them as long as Buddhism continues to influence the lives of people. It's crazy but it's true. People need love, salvation, peace, truth in the world they live in, it's like medication and you don't even need to take huge doses of it, just whatever works for you. Plenty of people come to India and take the best of all the things that have had an impact on them and Buddhism is one of the main ones. It's a driver of pure humanitarian instinct. This plus the reality of what is happening to Tibetans is enough to get the people of the world behind the plight to Save Tibet. It is not the governments of the world, but the people, that are carrying Tibetans in exile.
Loadsa money
At the same time, all the money coming into Dharamsala has turned it into a mega tourist spot. The Indian government have won a lifetime lottery and the locals in the area are making a nice little earner too selling everything from Save Tibet memorobilia and mantra pendants to yak bone malas and bronze Buddha statues – they got it all. Gotta watch out for the silver, but it's great to go shopping and look for unique little gems. Plenty of people are donating profits to the Tibetan fund but it's also driving the local economy, and Dharamasala remains the most affluent place in Himachal Pradesh where Tibetans here are even better off than Indians. Monks with mobiles and youngsters in bling, this is the image of Tibetans in the exiled capital of Tibet today.
World reflections
People in McCleod Ganj, the central hub, are a reflection of the people that come here from across the world. Met a rastafarian from Panama who speaks fluent Tibetan, a Swedish couple that have funded a school, a Buddhist philosophy student, an English guy who has been meditating in the mountains for the last eight years and a load of people doing English conversation sessions with Tibetans at a place called Hope.
Plenty come here to relieve themselves of their guilty lives and leave once they feel the burden lift. It's also a bit of a rehab centre for the travellers that head up here from Goa and then there's the touristy folk – but nice kind of touristy folk. How can any of these people have any idea what the Tibetans are going through when they haven't lived it? You can see this feeling in the hardened eyes of the older generation of exiled Tibetans - the fifties to seventies in particular. They are not a freakshow so don't mock them with your camera. Don't be a stupid tourist. You can also detect this feeling amongst the rebellious, street-talking, underground younger lot with their bling jewellery, bomber jackets, spiky hair and pockets full of rizzlas and smokes. If they haven't taken on the Indian habit of asking you lots of questions and being overly nice, they see you with timid or alien eyes and look right through you because they know that they will never be what you are. Others befriend the westerners, marry them, get involved in business deals or get into the cultural exchange thing and all that jazz.
What’s left? What's next?
A museum: That's all that's left of Tibet, and the 40% of historical artifacts that were saved from demolition are housed within it. From those that follow the Dalai Lama's peaceful and submissive approach, to young radicals such as south India-based Tibetan journalist, Tsong Tumin*. “The younger generation is not as tolerant, spiritual, or as religious as their parents and grandparents,” he says. “When the Dalai Lama is gone (touches his heart), it's gonna get dangerous. Tibetans will become terrorists, the Himalayan snow will become scarlet red with blood.” Tsong is working with a radio station that telecasts news to Tibetans in Tibet directly from India. He tries to put it in simple terms, “If somebody invades your home, you're not going to just sit there and watch them.” He tells me, “...all we want is our rights as written within the Constitutions of 1954 and 1982 - but they don't want this because these are rights that will empower the Tibetan people in Tibet”.
Acceptance is freedom within Buddhist philosophy as he explains, “We accept the situation. We know Tibet will never be free of China and we are happy to co-exist as brothers.” The Chinese government however, is more in tune with the differences between them and Tsong recognises this. “It's a fight because we are seperate from them, we are too different in terms of spirituality and religion, in perspectives, culture, history, everything. But past is past to us, we are saying it's time to move on, but instead what we are dealing with here is a cultural genocide - and something amongst the younger exiled communities in India is gonna have to give.”
Saving gRace
The Tibetan race outside of Tibet is being dispersed into the world as more and more get past the border. There are about six million Tibetans living in Tibet, most of them nomads or farmers, while the ones that learn Chinese and study, are still left with little opportunity - unless they collaborate in some way or other.There are also plenty of mixed marriages between Chinese and Tibetans and the numbers are shrinking.
Amongst the exiled community, while plenty of communities believe in the preservation of the Tibetan race, many find ways of getting out of their refugee status by marrying westerners. It's often the Tibetan men take this kind of plunge to personal freedom, although I did meet Tsering in Goa, a Tibetan refugee who lives in Canada and is about to set up shack in Vancouver with her Spanish boyfriend. Also met lots of Tibetans in Dharamasala that have not seen their families in years, including Karma, who left Tibet seven years and Tsong, who left in 1992 and has a brother in Italy.
Dealing with the shit
Fifty years of exile has spawned a generation of people that continue to believe in their faith, while others hear the rebel yell from ancestors of a once-violent Tibet. Then you get the funky young Tibetan DJs who are totally integrated and have found a way of releasing the pressure. The Mountain Madness Festival in Nepal takes place this month and the line-up of DJs is predominantly Indian, Nepalese and Tibetan. According to Shiv Link Records' DJ Appy, “There's a cool fusion between younger generation Indians and Tibetans. The Tibetan guys are playing at psytrance events that are happening across India. They're inspired by something that is taking them in another direction.”
Tibet is trapped between two super-powers armed up to eyeballs with nuclear weapons. To create a warzone within the Himalayas is the last thing they would want to do. The Chinese and Indians have finally established a relationship based on respect. Aggravate this and it will not take the Indians a second to send the exiled community packing. The real concern lies with the six million Tibetans living in Tibet because they are trapped between the pride of staying and that of risking their lives to leave. In the meantime, they’re in hell.
India: A land of opportunity for the exiled community?
For those in exile, India has become a land of opportunity. Fifty years of living in exile has transformed them into a tourist attraction, something that many have easily exploited. Monks wear the latest trainers and young rebels have defined a new way of life and are unleashing their frustrations in different ways. Acceptance is freedom and if any race can master this approach to life, then it's the Tibetan people. Life after the DL in the future will change things. Many young people are not as tolerant, and as Tsong says, "something's gonna give". It's gonna be a long road to freedom...
Brrrrrrr! It's cold! I'm wearing about four layers and I'm going to bed with the same layers for the last two nights now. It's freezing and it was freezing the night I arrived. From the sun-drenched mayhem we experienced during Holi in Pushkar to the cold, rainy Himalayan climate - it's an exhilarating contrast and I love it!
Busin it...
Bus journey from Amritsar to Manali epic. Flew off seat on countless occasions, was squashed into window with rucksack on top of me, zip on bag broke, crumbs everywhere, snoozed in awkward positions, smoked in secret, tried to avoid conversations with dodgy men, took 18-hours and three buses to get there... (moan, moan, moan)... Anyway - I made it. Manali is stunning. The Himalayas frame the valley we are in. There are plantations behind the mountain and it tastes good brother, it tastes real good. Fresh mountain air... Boy, I never knew I missed it so much...
Adding havoc to havoc
Josep was totally surprised when I turned up out the blue during the small hours of the night. Think he'd given up on me turning up at all. We're sharing room and it's costing 125 rupees each. There's hot water but it stays hot for five minutes. We're both unorganised and the room's a fucking mess. I arrive and add havoc to havoc. Empty cigarette packets, bottles of beer, books, bags, scarves, toileteries, computers, hard drives, speakers, wires, cables, an avalanche of clothes all over the place.
Manali was fun but three days was enough. Novelty of rain wore off on second day so we took off for Dharamsala.
Fifty Years in Exile
Monks with mobiles and youngsters in bling, this is the image of Tibetans in the exiled capital of Tibet today.
Save Tibet – a great marketing tool for the Indian government, has been churning in top dollar. Dalai Lama's approach towards the cultural genocide has won the hearts and minds of the world, his teachings of Buddhist philosohies have changed the lives of millions. This has been the effect of the Tibetan people on the world and Buddhism has carried them there. It's a powerful thing and the Chinese are threatened by it. The Tibetans are the nomads of the world, but the world is taking care of them and will continue to take care of them as long as Buddhism continues to influence the lives of people. It's crazy but it's true. People need love, salvation, peace, truth in the world they live in, it's like medication and you don't even need to take huge doses of it, just whatever works for you. Plenty of people come to India and take the best of all the things that have had an impact on them and Buddhism is one of the main ones. It's a driver of pure humanitarian instinct. This plus the reality of what is happening to Tibetans is enough to get the people of the world behind the plight to Save Tibet. It is not the governments of the world, but the people, that are carrying Tibetans in exile.
Loadsa money
At the same time, all the money coming into Dharamsala has turned it into a mega tourist spot. The Indian government have won a lifetime lottery and the locals in the area are making a nice little earner too selling everything from Save Tibet memorobilia and mantra pendants to yak bone malas and bronze Buddha statues – they got it all. Gotta watch out for the silver, but it's great to go shopping and look for unique little gems. Plenty of people are donating profits to the Tibetan fund but it's also driving the local economy, and Dharamasala remains the most affluent place in Himachal Pradesh where Tibetans here are even better off than Indians. Monks with mobiles and youngsters in bling, this is the image of Tibetans in the exiled capital of Tibet today.
World reflections
People in McCleod Ganj, the central hub, are a reflection of the people that come here from across the world. Met a rastafarian from Panama who speaks fluent Tibetan, a Swedish couple that have funded a school, a Buddhist philosophy student, an English guy who has been meditating in the mountains for the last eight years and a load of people doing English conversation sessions with Tibetans at a place called Hope.
Plenty come here to relieve themselves of their guilty lives and leave once they feel the burden lift. It's also a bit of a rehab centre for the travellers that head up here from Goa and then there's the touristy folk – but nice kind of touristy folk. How can any of these people have any idea what the Tibetans are going through when they haven't lived it? You can see this feeling in the hardened eyes of the older generation of exiled Tibetans - the fifties to seventies in particular. They are not a freakshow so don't mock them with your camera. Don't be a stupid tourist. You can also detect this feeling amongst the rebellious, street-talking, underground younger lot with their bling jewellery, bomber jackets, spiky hair and pockets full of rizzlas and smokes. If they haven't taken on the Indian habit of asking you lots of questions and being overly nice, they see you with timid or alien eyes and look right through you because they know that they will never be what you are. Others befriend the westerners, marry them, get involved in business deals or get into the cultural exchange thing and all that jazz.
What’s left? What's next?
A museum: That's all that's left of Tibet, and the 40% of historical artifacts that were saved from demolition are housed within it. From those that follow the Dalai Lama's peaceful and submissive approach, to young radicals such as south India-based Tibetan journalist, Tsong Tumin*. “The younger generation is not as tolerant, spiritual, or as religious as their parents and grandparents,” he says. “When the Dalai Lama is gone (touches his heart), it's gonna get dangerous. Tibetans will become terrorists, the Himalayan snow will become scarlet red with blood.” Tsong is working with a radio station that telecasts news to Tibetans in Tibet directly from India. He tries to put it in simple terms, “If somebody invades your home, you're not going to just sit there and watch them.” He tells me, “...all we want is our rights as written within the Constitutions of 1954 and 1982 - but they don't want this because these are rights that will empower the Tibetan people in Tibet”.
Acceptance is freedom within Buddhist philosophy as he explains, “We accept the situation. We know Tibet will never be free of China and we are happy to co-exist as brothers.” The Chinese government however, is more in tune with the differences between them and Tsong recognises this. “It's a fight because we are seperate from them, we are too different in terms of spirituality and religion, in perspectives, culture, history, everything. But past is past to us, we are saying it's time to move on, but instead what we are dealing with here is a cultural genocide - and something amongst the younger exiled communities in India is gonna have to give.”
Saving gRace
The Tibetan race outside of Tibet is being dispersed into the world as more and more get past the border. There are about six million Tibetans living in Tibet, most of them nomads or farmers, while the ones that learn Chinese and study, are still left with little opportunity - unless they collaborate in some way or other.There are also plenty of mixed marriages between Chinese and Tibetans and the numbers are shrinking.
Amongst the exiled community, while plenty of communities believe in the preservation of the Tibetan race, many find ways of getting out of their refugee status by marrying westerners. It's often the Tibetan men take this kind of plunge to personal freedom, although I did meet Tsering in Goa, a Tibetan refugee who lives in Canada and is about to set up shack in Vancouver with her Spanish boyfriend. Also met lots of Tibetans in Dharamasala that have not seen their families in years, including Karma, who left Tibet seven years and Tsong, who left in 1992 and has a brother in Italy.
Dealing with the shit
Fifty years of exile has spawned a generation of people that continue to believe in their faith, while others hear the rebel yell from ancestors of a once-violent Tibet. Then you get the funky young Tibetan DJs who are totally integrated and have found a way of releasing the pressure. The Mountain Madness Festival in Nepal takes place this month and the line-up of DJs is predominantly Indian, Nepalese and Tibetan. According to Shiv Link Records' DJ Appy, “There's a cool fusion between younger generation Indians and Tibetans. The Tibetan guys are playing at psytrance events that are happening across India. They're inspired by something that is taking them in another direction.”
Tibet is trapped between two super-powers armed up to eyeballs with nuclear weapons. To create a warzone within the Himalayas is the last thing they would want to do. The Chinese and Indians have finally established a relationship based on respect. Aggravate this and it will not take the Indians a second to send the exiled community packing. The real concern lies with the six million Tibetans living in Tibet because they are trapped between the pride of staying and that of risking their lives to leave. In the meantime, they’re in hell.
India: A land of opportunity for the exiled community?
For those in exile, India has become a land of opportunity. Fifty years of living in exile has transformed them into a tourist attraction, something that many have easily exploited. Monks wear the latest trainers and young rebels have defined a new way of life and are unleashing their frustrations in different ways. Acceptance is freedom and if any race can master this approach to life, then it's the Tibetan people. Life after the DL in the future will change things. Many young people are not as tolerant, and as Tsong says, "something's gonna give". It's gonna be a long road to freedom...
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