If you haven't read the previous blog post about Gelyck and Tibetan Dance troop please do so-this is a cause very near and dear to mine, Danny and Bree's heart. we so much want them to succeed in their dream to "go on the road" with their Tibetan dance troop-please read the blog post for more info.
For now, something a little lighter in tone! We had quite a last day in Mcleod Ganj and the bus ride was the usual bizarre Indian experience, from smashing the bridge railing to having to ride with a guy's head practically in my lap, to finding a new use for squat toilets that have attached hoses for washing. Where to start?? Our last day was filled with our friends we made tutoring English as well as old friends such as Gendun Lodue from the Dalai Lama temple. Our favorite meeting place is Tibet Children's village cafe, where you can sit on the outside balcony above the street and look down at the assorment of humanity, from tourists, monks, beggars and peddlers. And drink lattes that have "Free Tibet" or "Tibet Will Be Free" or "peace" written in the foam-and best of all, all proceeds benefit the TCV education programs. So here is where we met first our dear friend Gelyck, who presented us with katas, Dalai lama necklaces and a letter and photo of him and his dance troop. We parted with hugs and Tashi Deleks and promises to return and do more work together next summer. A few hours later, we were back to meet Yeshe and Coky (I do not know how to spell her name, but it sounds something like that)-and more katas were given (these are white silk scarfs that Tibetans traditionally give in ceremonies or in honor of someone) Yeshe also had bought beautiful silk Tibetan wallets for us with Free Tibet stickers inside, Coky had gifts of scrolls with writings by the Dalia lama on them-mine will go up in my classroom for sure! Then we connected with our dear monk pal, Gendun Lodue, who met us up at the very busy taxi and bus stand, and then helped us lug all our bags down the road to where the "tourist" bus was parked-Gendun in his monk robes pulling my carry-on suitcase via its wheels, Danny and Bree with backpacks on, and Danny pulling the big suitcase, me with the extra bags slung on my shoulders. What a troop we were! It was a walk on the road of almost a mile, so picture that for a minute-all the while discussing Buddha's teachings of the Four Noble Truths with Gendun, who is practicing his English version of it. Just as we boarded the bus for good, Gendun pulls out of his robes boxes of "Peace" incense for each of us and more katas to put around our necks, with hands held in namaste and a Buddhist monk's blessing. It was hard to hold back the tears, we love him so much and parting is hard knowing it will be a whole year before we see our Gendun again! He turned and walked off down the road, back to his temple, slow and steady and Danny and I turned to each other and said, "There goes our dear monk-our Gayla!" (Dear Teacher).
On the bus, finally, we took off after no less then a half-hour of haggling with the driver because we had paid extra for a/c and discovered our bus did not have a/c-an old trick to get a few more rupees out of you-but we weren't having it. A few other passengers including Indians were also cheated so we were all on the verge of a bus mutiny when the driver called the owner and soon had someone arriving to give us the extra money for a/c refunds. The bus took off but took out a guard rail protecting a big drop-off to a river, the rail scrapped all along the side of the bus in a horrible noise, giving it a large gouge, and everyone on my side hung out their heads and went "OHHHH!" but the driver didn't seem even phased enough to check it out for body damage. Our heads hanging out we passengers were able to waggle our heads and say "That's India!" and laugh (and pray) that no serious damage was done. After about half-an hour on the road, we were pulled over by the police. I thought for sure they were nailing the driver for money to fix the guard rail he took out (leaving it bent and twisted-) it was about a half hour of haggling and so passengers began to file off and sit on the side of the road. One thing about India and Nepal is patience, no one argues or gets too upset when things like this happen, people have a nice way of just being resigned to fate and knowing things will happen when they do. We found out it wasn't the guard rail at all but back taxes owed by the tour bus company! How they found the bus and then pulled it over, and why they do it when it's full of people, I have not way to reason that out, esp. not being Indian, but there we were, a bus load of innocents having to wait while the driver called his boss (again) and had to wait for someone to show up with 12,000 rubees. which they finally did, about an hour later. Meanwhile, we got to know a Thai monk that was on the bus heading to Delhi and Danny and Bree peppered him with questions about Thailand. The rest of the trip was just long-very, very long. During the night, you can put your chairs back pretty far for sleeping, but for the person behind you it means very little space-the dude in front of me put his as far back as he could, giving me about 2 " of space between my lap and his head, which i had to look at all night I kept check it for lice because I had little else to do. That and read, since sleep is impossible for the jerky, twisty Himalaya roads. It takes about 16 hours to ride the bus from Dharamsala to Delhi and you arrive early the next morning, disheveled, dirty, exhauted from lack of sleep, confused, hot and bewildered but so thankful to get off the bus and have made it! We shared a taxi with our Thai monk friend and got to the airport's air conditioned luxury-wanting so badly to shower! I found out the luxury squat toilets the Indian gov't installed in their newly remodeled airport had nice hoses for washing, and that the squat toilet design made holding you foot over it and hosing off the trail dust the perfect place to do so! Clean feet make a world of difference when you're going around in flip-flops all the time, that and a fresh shirt. I had both, and so could get on the modern airplane feeling half way decent again. We hit Kathmandu and our pillows at Shechen Guest house with all the relief of trail-weary cowboys and crashed hard-sleeping for about 14 hours. Gee, but it's great to be back home!
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