We arrived at our hotel which was still in construction at 2:00am. We are now in Himchal Pradesh. Himchal meaning mountain and Pradesh meaning state. None of our rooms have water at all (Even to flush the toilet…) We find RK to tell him and sure enough - there was no water in the hotel because all the water pipes are FROZEN. That's how cold it was. I’m not even sure if there were heaters in our hotel. I was wearing three sweaters and two scarves and curled into a ball in my bed contemplating whether I should jump in my roommates’ bed for body heat.
We woke up, had some freezing cold showers and left. Today’s program was to visit the Ashram of the Dalai Lama together then explore on our own. We walked into the main road. My first thought was:
Am I in India still?
The India I have been living in for the last eight months is nothing compared to this. My India is hot and dusty with litter lining the streets. I see mostly roads and dry and brittle plants. There is always noise from traffic, stereos, people, animals and from an occasional gun. My body is under constant attack and surveillance from Indian misogyny. In my India, I never feel completely safe, and I am always alert, lest I be run over by a truck.
In this India, almost everything is opposite to what I've come to know. My body is not covered for protection from leers and stares, but to actually keep me warm. The air is crisp and clear, and my landscape is a carpet of healthy pine trees and snow covered mountains. The men around me are either tourists who or Buddhist Monks who smile. It is calm and it is silent. It reminds me of Canada, and it's the safest I have felt all year.
The calmness and quietness of the Buddhist Dharamsala attracts the foreigners who are on their “Spiritual Journey”. You know, the people who feel that travelling to cities or countries that are heavily influenced by a particular religion will magically and drastically change their life and their happiness? Dharamsala is definitely a tourist town, but it doesn't have the same vibe that I felt in Rajasthan.
The ashram itself was beautiful and magnificent. As a non- Buddhist person, I felt like an intruder peering on such a special and important place. But I find when I have these thoughts of guilt, and like I am treating this country and its' culture like a zoo, I am able to immediately not dwell on them and feel guilty, or justify what I'm doing (which isn't good that I can so easily shake off these feelings).
But after seeing the ashram, we split into groups to shop. So many trinkets, handicrafts, jewellery, Tibetan/winter clothing and so much more. We ate street momos, and enjoyed the lack of stares, comments and hidden pictures.
The next morning we rose early to join the morning prayers at the ashram. We sat in the ashram with the Tibetans quietly and respectively while they chanted their prayers. It was really amazing. The chants themselves were eerie and echoed in the ashram. After we all finished, we packed into two jeeps and took off for an eight hour drive through the Himalayas to Manali.
We woke up, had some freezing cold showers and left. Today’s program was to visit the Ashram of the Dalai Lama together then explore on our own. We walked into the main road. My first thought was:
Am I in India still?
The India I have been living in for the last eight months is nothing compared to this. My India is hot and dusty with litter lining the streets. I see mostly roads and dry and brittle plants. There is always noise from traffic, stereos, people, animals and from an occasional gun. My body is under constant attack and surveillance from Indian misogyny. In my India, I never feel completely safe, and I am always alert, lest I be run over by a truck.
In this India, almost everything is opposite to what I've come to know. My body is not covered for protection from leers and stares, but to actually keep me warm. The air is crisp and clear, and my landscape is a carpet of healthy pine trees and snow covered mountains. The men around me are either tourists who or Buddhist Monks who smile. It is calm and it is silent. It reminds me of Canada, and it's the safest I have felt all year.
The calmness and quietness of the Buddhist Dharamsala attracts the foreigners who are on their “Spiritual Journey”. You know, the people who feel that travelling to cities or countries that are heavily influenced by a particular religion will magically and drastically change their life and their happiness? Dharamsala is definitely a tourist town, but it doesn't have the same vibe that I felt in Rajasthan.
The ashram itself was beautiful and magnificent. As a non- Buddhist person, I felt like an intruder peering on such a special and important place. But I find when I have these thoughts of guilt, and like I am treating this country and its' culture like a zoo, I am able to immediately not dwell on them and feel guilty, or justify what I'm doing (which isn't good that I can so easily shake off these feelings).
But after seeing the ashram, we split into groups to shop. So many trinkets, handicrafts, jewellery, Tibetan/winter clothing and so much more. We ate street momos, and enjoyed the lack of stares, comments and hidden pictures.
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