On Wednesday we arrived in Dharamsala/McLeod Ganj, home of the exiled Tibetan government and the Dalai Lama. Prior to this I was having a really hard time understanding how people could come to India and have these overwhelming spiritual experiences, what with the poverty and dirt and constant heckling that goes on, but now I'm beginning to understand. This peaceful town is snuggled into misty mountains tops of the Himalayas where Buddhist monks wander the streets and prayer flags fly from every roof. It is also quiet here, like actually quiet, minus the constant pitter patter of rain. The most you will be harassed is by the copious amount of monkeys trying to steal your stuff, but as long as you make sure to protect your valuables (they have an uncanny knack for taking the one thing you really don't want them to take) and eat your food quickly, these fluffy little rabies machines will leave you alone.
Yesterday we visited the Dalai Lama's temple and a museum about the Tibetan struggle and their exile to India. There are so many Tibetans here, each with a unique but similar story, and it's amazing to think that they've all had to experience this horrible, tragic history. China has essentially decided to wipe out the Tibetan culture and religion. They arrest and torture protesters and monks who resist the "cultural revolution". Most people who have gone into exile have done so by foot, crossing the Himalayas with little more than a blanket to protect them. There are many people here missing fingers and toes from frostbite acquired on the journey, yet the Tibetans always maintain their peaceful, happy demeanor that is so ingrained in their Buddhist culture. What a change it is from the Indians who, while also kind and helpful, are pushy, loud, and totally in your face.
There are abundant resources here for the refugees and ways to get involved. Yesterday we took a yoga class from a very silly, yet incredibly flexible refugee and today we're going to be conversation partners with some recently arrived Tibetans who are trying to learn English.
But before I float off into the fog and find my inner Buddha, I have to explain the other part of this title: my being a celebrity and discovering the source of all of Monty Python's wisdom, no?
Tuesday we had another day in Amritsar. We were exhausted after wading through the cholera water all day the day before, so we attempted to take it easy. We thought a walk in Jallianwala Bagh, a local park would be, well, a walk in the park, but as India has continually proved to me, even the most simple seeming things can become complicated. Jallianwala Bagh was the site of a horrible massacre during the early 1900s. The British had arrested some important Indian leaders for unwarranted reasons, and the Indians were holding a peaceful protest against their arrest. To break up the protest, the British opened fire on the unarmed Indians, firing over 1,000 rounds into the crowd in less than 10 minutes, killing over 300 people and injuring 1,000 more. Today the park acts as a memorial to the people who were injured and killed, but we couldn't appreciate this because every single person in the park wanted to take a picture with us. "One snap, one snap" rang out from every corner as people rushed towards us with their camera phones.The little kids were cute, just wanting to see what they look like on the cameras screen. One man thrust his baby at me, who was not so stoked that some super sweaty stranger was holding her, but mostly it was young men who wanted to take their picture with us, one at a time. We later found out that they like to do this so that they can show people pictures of their "western girlfriends," which I find totally insane because Indian women are so beautiful I am so sweaty here all the time.
Later that day we took a cab ride (by that I mean 12 people stuffed in a jeep that barely ran) to the Indian/Pakistani border to watch the border closing ceremony. They do it every day, and it is a highly formalized, official, and completely ridiculous looking affair. The soldiers who perform the ceremony wear helmets with a huge fan on top and try to out intimidate the other side with their super masculine high kicks. Seriously, I didn't know 1) that Indians over five feet tall existed anywhere and 2) that any man in the world could get his leg to kick so high as to touch his silly headdress. I think Monty Python must have shown up to the border ceremony, witnessed this bizarre tradition, and wrote their silly walk skit off of it. Huge crowds of Indians and puny, all-male crowds of Pakistanis show up to support their country in this highly patriotic affair with cheers and chants and dancing and music. Just in case you've never seen the silly walk, I've provided a comparison of the two for you below. In fact, I'm not the first one to find this striking similarity. You're welcome.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqhlQfXUk7w
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZ0ue-XGl9c
Yesterday we visited the Dalai Lama's temple and a museum about the Tibetan struggle and their exile to India. There are so many Tibetans here, each with a unique but similar story, and it's amazing to think that they've all had to experience this horrible, tragic history. China has essentially decided to wipe out the Tibetan culture and religion. They arrest and torture protesters and monks who resist the "cultural revolution". Most people who have gone into exile have done so by foot, crossing the Himalayas with little more than a blanket to protect them. There are many people here missing fingers and toes from frostbite acquired on the journey, yet the Tibetans always maintain their peaceful, happy demeanor that is so ingrained in their Buddhist culture. What a change it is from the Indians who, while also kind and helpful, are pushy, loud, and totally in your face.
There are abundant resources here for the refugees and ways to get involved. Yesterday we took a yoga class from a very silly, yet incredibly flexible refugee and today we're going to be conversation partners with some recently arrived Tibetans who are trying to learn English.
But before I float off into the fog and find my inner Buddha, I have to explain the other part of this title: my being a celebrity and discovering the source of all of Monty Python's wisdom, no?
Tuesday we had another day in Amritsar. We were exhausted after wading through the cholera water all day the day before, so we attempted to take it easy. We thought a walk in Jallianwala Bagh, a local park would be, well, a walk in the park, but as India has continually proved to me, even the most simple seeming things can become complicated. Jallianwala Bagh was the site of a horrible massacre during the early 1900s. The British had arrested some important Indian leaders for unwarranted reasons, and the Indians were holding a peaceful protest against their arrest. To break up the protest, the British opened fire on the unarmed Indians, firing over 1,000 rounds into the crowd in less than 10 minutes, killing over 300 people and injuring 1,000 more. Today the park acts as a memorial to the people who were injured and killed, but we couldn't appreciate this because every single person in the park wanted to take a picture with us. "One snap, one snap" rang out from every corner as people rushed towards us with their camera phones.The little kids were cute, just wanting to see what they look like on the cameras screen. One man thrust his baby at me, who was not so stoked that some super sweaty stranger was holding her, but mostly it was young men who wanted to take their picture with us, one at a time. We later found out that they like to do this so that they can show people pictures of their "western girlfriends," which I find totally insane because Indian women are so beautiful I am so sweaty here all the time.
Later that day we took a cab ride (by that I mean 12 people stuffed in a jeep that barely ran) to the Indian/Pakistani border to watch the border closing ceremony. They do it every day, and it is a highly formalized, official, and completely ridiculous looking affair. The soldiers who perform the ceremony wear helmets with a huge fan on top and try to out intimidate the other side with their super masculine high kicks. Seriously, I didn't know 1) that Indians over five feet tall existed anywhere and 2) that any man in the world could get his leg to kick so high as to touch his silly headdress. I think Monty Python must have shown up to the border ceremony, witnessed this bizarre tradition, and wrote their silly walk skit off of it. Huge crowds of Indians and puny, all-male crowds of Pakistanis show up to support their country in this highly patriotic affair with cheers and chants and dancing and music. Just in case you've never seen the silly walk, I've provided a comparison of the two for you below. In fact, I'm not the first one to find this striking similarity. You're welcome.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqhlQfXUk7w
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZ0ue-XGl9c
2 comments:
Love your blog, hearing about your travels and adventures.
You certainly are living life to its fullest.
Love you girls, be well.
Mary
Hi Honey, Lots of boyfriends, silly walks... sounds like your kind of place :)
I've been gone for a week and just got back. Your blog is very cool. Thanks for sharing.
Love you and miss you. Stay safe.
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