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Published: August 7th 2007
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McLeod Ganj (a few minutes from the better-known town of Dharamsala) is a mountain town in the northern state of Himachal Pradesh. It is home of the Dalai Lama in exile, as well as many Tibetan refugees who have come to McLeod to start a new life. We arrived on April 4th and took a room in the Pink House, a brand new guesthouse with spectacular views of the wooded valley, the snow-capped mountains and the clutter of colorful houses built into the mountainside. The narrow town winds its way up the mountain, its streets full of Tibetan children in school uniforms, fluffy and vigorous street dogs, the usual wandering cows, and rows of vegetable and momo (Tibetan dumpling) sellers. The main streets are centered around a Buddhist temple, its external walls lined with prayer wheels. At 2000 meters above sea level McLeod is wonderfully cool, even chilly at night.
Our first order of business in McLeod was to go to the supposedly fantastic vegetarian Japanese restaurant in town. Ever since our sushi disaster in Goa we had been craving good Japanese, and we finally found it in McLeod Ganj, although there was no fish sushi, since it
was pure vegetarian. We stopped also at a bakery called the Chocolate Log, and I secretly (sort of… I think he figured it out) ordered him a chocolate cake to be ready the next afternoon, for his birthday. We explored the town in the evening, wandering along the steep roads past monks and nuns in their orange and burgundy robes. Despite the rows of tourist-oriented shops, the town felt peaceful and relaxed in comparison to most Indian towns we’d seen.
Jeff’s birthday was uneventful but peaceful. We spent much of the morning photographing hawks from our balcony and watching the constant parade of white butterflies flying up from the valley, so thick it looked like it was snowing butterflies. In the afternoon we went to Chocolate Log for his cake, and he made a proper birthday wish by blowing out the large in-case-the-power-goes-out candle. (Not many birthday candles available in town, so it was the best I could do.) In the evening we ran into Michael, an American guy we’d met on a train earlier in our travels, and invited him to join us for dinner, birthday cake, and a bottle of almost undrinkably bad red wine on our
balcony.
The next day we discovered a walking path circling the Dalai Lama’s residence, which is located on the edge of town. The path leads through a wooded area strung with prayer flags and punctuated by Buddhist prayers carved into rocks and small stupas made of whitewashed stones. Prayer wheels line the path, and monks and nuns circumambulate daily, spinning each wheel as they pass. We walked the route a number of times while we were in McLeod, and on one occasion a young monk led us up behind the temples to a grassy hill with a great view of the mountain range. The hill was thickly striped with hanging prayer flags, and cows grazed in the narrow aisles between them. A Tibetan woman sat under the shade of a tree reading aloud from her prayer book, but otherwise we were alone with the cows and fluttering flags. It was quite possibly the most peaceful place I’ve ever been. As we finished our circumambulation, we passed a Tibetan woman selling momos on the side of the road. She stopped tending her momos to come marvel at my silver spiral earrings, trying one in her own ear and laughing. Jeff
took a great photo of she and I together, and we decided to have it printed in town and bring a copy back to her. She was thrilled to receive the photo, and offered a loaf of Tibetan bread in return. We didn't speak a word of the same language, but I feel like I made a good friend.
During the next couple of days we decided to go shopping for the second time in India, planning to send a box home from McLeod. Our first box still hasn't made it home after 6 weeks, but we were determined to try again, this time through a shipping service that would supposedly provide a tracking number. We bought a number of dirt-cheap and incredibly soft tibetan blankets, a beautiful hand-sewn bed quilt, a few Buddhist masks and tapestries, and a set of silver prayer wheels. We bought the prayer wheels at a fixed-price "Tibetan Cooperative," although our prayer wheels had no price tag and the sweet Tibetan woman working there had to look up the price in a book. The next day we brought Michael back to the same store to show him their selection, and when we arrived the
same woman was there, talking rapidly and worriedly with a man who also worked there. As soon as we walked in they stopped talking abruptly and stared at us, and after a few minutes approached us and told us there was a problem. Apparently, we'd been charged the wrong price for the prayer wheels, and we owed another 500 rupees. The woman told us that if we didn't pay the additional amount she would have to pay it herself, since it was her fault. We were suspicious of a tout, but her concern seemed very real and she actually began crying. We asked to talk to a manager about it, saying that although she certainly shouldn't have to pay we had already purchased it so shouldn't have to pay more. Apparently the manager was the one to demand we (or she) pay extra, but he wouldn't be in again for a few days. She looked ready to fall apart, and when we left to go get money she looked panicked and begged us to please come back. We decided to pay it instead of risk costing her her job or what is to her a large amount of money, but
the whole situation was uncomfortable and certainly not something that would happen in the U.S. When we brought the money back she had clearly been crying the whole time we were gone, and when we saw her in the store over the next couple of days she looked shaken and sad, instead of the smiley and talkative woman we'd met the first day. Whatever really happened, I hope she is back to smiling again soon.
On one of our last days in McLeod Ganj we visited the main Buddhist temple, where monks and nuns meditate and gather to discuss their lessons. We spent a few hours exploring the temple, circumambulating the main shrine and spinning the prayer wheels. Some of the older monks and nuns limped along with canes, walking and meditating for hours despite their disabilities. Afterwards we visited the nearby museum dedicated to the plight of the Tibetans. The first floor is a powerful collection of photographs, video clips and testimonies of Tibetan refugees, and upstairs is an art gallery currently displaying beautiful modern paintings by a young Tibetan artist. McLeod Ganj seems to be the revitalized echo of Tibet itself, and is certainly a haven for
the beautiful culture and religion that is being systematically destroyed by the Chinese government.
We left McLeod after a wonderfully cool and peaceful week, taking a taxi back down through Pathankot to Amritsar, the Sikh holy city. The drive took us along sharply winding mountain roads, past boulder-strewn rivers and small houses tucked into the flowering hillsides. As we descended, the heat of India took over, along with the familiar dusty roads and honking taxis. We'll spend one day in Amritsar and two days in Delhi before flying to Kathmandu to begin our travels through Nepal.
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Cassandra
non-member comment
whoa
That is a cute picture with you and the woman who adored your earrings. p.s. your hair is getting super long!