Dharmsala

Reformat as usual, mostly due to memory failures.

Sweet air, awoken from the rattling train by the chilling breeze rolling of the Himalayas. A run across platforms in a panic to make the toy train. Cramped quarters, but freshness blowing through the windows, unlike anything I'd experienced in India up to that point. Chugging along through a dark tunnel seeming endless. Moving up the mountain, we finally reach Kangra. No one would take the me, the foreigner, in their packed tight autos, until a kind soul talked a driver to allow me to ride hanging out of the trunk. Apparently 1000 rupees is too much for a 10rs ride, luckily honesty prevailed and breaking was accomplished. Off to the bus, then packed into a tight truck clipping my bag to the roof fearing it would fall at every curve and bump. Finally up in the land of the Dali Lama, McLeod Gange. Before taking anything in an ATM and housing would need to be found, all of which took place pretty quickly. After a bowl of soup, some quick browsing and some momo, I set off to the Dali Lama's residence. I walked down the gauntlet of merchants, and I did not bite, until the end when I got some momo from an old woman. Into the temple I walked around spinning the wheels of time, until I turned around and started to go in reverse, to see the faces of those infront of me. Bed time in the frigid cold and bad movies and tv.

Morning sun shining through, golden shadows on the wall. Yesterday's grey is today's blue, looking out over the foothills below and the snow caped mountains in the far field. Bones warmed by the radient sun, off to make momos the food of the snow capped land. A dark room with light streaming through the air, specs of flour dancing in the light. Our host is there directing us how to stuff and fold little packages. Off to the waterfall, not far away, walking up and down a dirt path. A family playing music, asking for alms. Stretching from home to home all along the mountains, colorful flags fluttering in the air, illuminated by the bright mountain sun. With each step I realize that I'm getting hotter and hotter, a fever seems to have taken root in me, so I turn around prematurely. Soup and Momos, what could be better for dinner on a cold night.

Off to a new abode, conversations with new people with different views and visions of the world. In the evening I went to Lhamo Croissant to watch a movie and to have some traditional Tibetan soup. With strong powerful conversation as a dessert. The next day with a quick stop at Lhamo's I headed off to the waterfall, which I had failed to reach previously. The waterfall was lovely, though the garbage strewn by the Indian tourists was disheartening. On my way down I found my path going through the path of goats and people doing their laundry in the river, the runoff from the waterfall. Another movie at Lhamo's croissant and more bone chilling cold in the evening.

Norbulinka, a research facility for the preservation of Tibeten culture, a lovely site/sight even on cool damp afternoon. Too expensive, and a few miss steps from the bus. A man beating a hammer against a glowing hot blade, an implement to be made, perhaps a scissor. And then I bought my ticket to Bodh Gaya, but then right off to Lhamos for another movie and talk and then sleep.

The next day was just relaxing to explore the vicinity, and it would be my last. Just taking in beautiful weather and sights, and conversation. Then the next day long 4 hour bus ride to my train, which would be about 36hrs, two nights on a train, a not to appealing idea, but appealing in its own way.

Some selections from my original Delhi post:

Delhi Belly

Big Boots,
Black Boots,
Doc Martin's,
Skinny Girl,
Grey Skirt,
Black Shirt,
Leather Satchel,
Tanned Legs,
Dirty-Blond Hair,
Legs Move,
Eyes True,
and a
Reassuring Smile.

Two Naked Men,
In the Dark,
On top of a truck,
Parked in the rain,
On the side of the road,
Lashing a tarp to keep it dry.