Update: As of today we have moved to McLeodganj, where we are in a homestay situation, which is definitely an experience and a lot of fun. But our access to internet is spotty at best, so for now you all get a backup post (I stockpile them for situations where I don't have time to write).

So to get started today, I just want to mention the weather for a moment. I’ve been checking online every couple of days to see what it’s like and until recently the two most common listings have been “haze” and “smoke.” The pollution is literally strong enough here to cause its own weather phenomena, and the energy consumption per person is still is miniscule compared to in the U.S. (I know from experience. Cold showers). Just something to think about.

I don’t know a whole lot about environment issues, but I have definitely noticed some things here in India that I would like to share. I haven’t seen the industrial areas of India, but no matter where you are—even way up in the mountains like we are now—it is clear that they exist. When I came to India I had definitely crafter a certain image of a place that was natural and wild and pure and beautiful, and since getting here I have consistently encountered situations and sights and smells that have forced me to re-evaluate that understanding.

First of all, there’s the garbage. So far, all the pictures that I have shown you have been beautiful landscapes and maybe a cute animal or two. And there certainly are a lot of those here, because India is a vast place and the areas we are staying in are not nearly as densely populated as others. And there are other places that are even more vast an open than where we are now (more on that in a future post). But I’d like to have at least one post that challenges that image of India as a beautiful place, because in many ways, if you look closely enough, that’s not necessarily the case.

Plastic bags are banned in Dharamsala. The reason is that if they weren’t banned, they would end up along the sides of the roads, in ditches between houses, and on all the hillsides around the city. The reason for that is that there is no centralized garbage service in India, at least not in Delhi or here in Dharamsala. So far nobody I have talked to has been able to say where the garbage actually goes, except that the state does send people around to clean up certain areas when they get bad.

Which brings me to my first real world application: what happens when you buy stuff at the store here? Well, you are going to get it in a newspaper bag. This is not the same as wrapping it in newspaper—there are actually groups that collect old newspaper, fold it, and seal the bottom to create a kind of bag that store owners can use to package things. In the U.S. we generate a great deal of waste just by specifically creating things to transport our things home in—here, they take things that are already trash and reuse them.

What about keeping leftover food sanitary, you ask? Well, the restaurants use whatever they have on hand. For example, a few days ago we got some pizza at a restaurant and couldn’t finish. So they brought it back in a very distinctive bag. You know those little sauce packets that you get at taco bell, with the little sayings on them? Well imagine that prior to the sauce getting in, someone got their hands on a roll of the wrapper paper. Then they put your pizza in it and stapled the edges together. Just like that, take home container. Does it matter that we have yet to actually see a taco bell anywhere in India? Not at all.

We have no idea how that came to be the leftover food wrapper of choice for this restaurant. But it works, especially since without refrigeration there’s really no need to keep your food fresh for too long. Did I mention the fact that there is no refrigeration in most places? Let me just run through the things that aren’t a thing here, to show the ways in which this country is more and less efficient than you might think. Paper and plastic bags. Plastic cups, paper plates. Dishwashers, laundry machines, and vacuum cleaners. Coffee pots, toasters, and mixers. Any kind of store that is bigger than your living room. All things that don’t exist here, and all things that probably contribute more to wastefulness than they do to conservation.

So many of the things that we think of as helping to be more efficient in one sense (like fridges to store food in or disposable utensils that save time) actually use a lot more resources than the less technologically advanced ways of doing the same things. In a rapidly developing nation of over a billion people, there are lots of groups and individuals already generating unique ways to manage some of these issues—but even that is not enough to keep up with what is generated, and as standards of living rise things are likely to get worse. On this trip we have all learned how to get by with less than we normally would, but it’s worth thinking about the fact that there are so many seemingly insignificant interactions we have on a daily basis in the U.S. that are also opportunities to create less waste.

Once again, I would like to mention that I have written this as someone who is completely ignorant of environmental considerations in general, and I’m not trying to say that there is anything right or wrong about the way things work, here or in the States. I just wanted to make the observation, and to show a side of my trip that you haven’t necessarily seen yet. That’s all for now.

I’ve been dropping the ball when it comes to including photos for the last few weeks, so let me just leave these here. No real post this time, because I don’t have anything to say about these:

These are all pretty consistent sights here—I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen something amazing and not had a camera with me. But for now, I just wanted to share some of the nice things that we’ve come to appreciate a great deal. See you next time friends.

During our first full week of classes we went up to Lower Dharamsala for a show. We didn’t know a whole lot about it going in, except that it was organized by some Tibetan independence activists and that there was going to be food at some point. But somehow most of us were still surprised by what we saw.

After a short drive we arrived at the location during what I know for a fact is the hardest rain I have ever experienced. I’ve been caught in intense Pacific Northwest rain before, but this was an entire other level of wetness. I could literally feel the weight of the rain droplets pushing me down, like a full-body shower. We went down some sketchy steps that were themselves basically a small river and finally made it into someone’s house, utterly soaked up to the knees and in every other place that wasn’t 100% waterproof. Some of us had parents who made them bring gigantic winter coats, and were much better off because of it. Thanks guys.

The place we had entered after we had stumbled down the stairs felt like a bunker straight out of a war movie. The ceilings were low, sloping downward towards the wall at the edges. There was basically one big space and then small kitchen and bathroom areas, and all of the walls were hidden by stacks of political and philosophical books and covered with political and propaganda posters and flyers. Overall, it’s a place you could spend a whole lot of time exploring—or perhaps looking for something you’ve lost.

But this was not the site of the main event, so before long we transitioned to a larger venue. We entered a small room with maybe 25 other people packed in that didn’t have a stage but did have a large canvas propped up on one side.

This is the point in the story where I am going to drop the ball, because I failed to jot down the names of the people hosting us. Some of them may or may not be very prominent in the free Tibet movement. But I can try to describe what basically happened, and let you decide for yourselves whether or not to be impressed. 

The host began by introducing each of the performers, and then everyone in the audience including our group. I think he did this for two reasons. First, many of the people in the audience were also involved in the same cause through various organizations or independent activities. Second, doing so really brought people into the community of the space as well as the performance itself. It was a performance, but as participants we were just as responsible for the atmosphere and for fulfilling the purposes of the event as the performers.

Here’s how the show went. One artist was working on the giant painting on the wall, where everyone could see. At the same time, other performers would play traditional songs, sing, dance, or read poetry in front. All of these parts were in service to the cause either in theme or in tone. But they also did very different things. Some lamented sad situations from the past, while others joked about breakups. Some tried to invent new styles of expression while others stuck to traditional cultural standards. There were moments when the songs and the artists’ movements seemed to blend together wonderfully, but also times when the combinations were overwhelming, like when the painting, poetry reading, music, and dancing were all happening at the same time and as an observer-participant I literally could not take it all in at once.

Photo Credit: Tyler Sit

Overall it was an experience unlike anything I’ve ever had before, and I have to admit I’m not quite sure how I felt about the whole thing. But I will say that at this event I witnessed a strong manifestation of something that I had only sensed intuitively up until this point in the trip: the immense sadness and hope, pain and determination, destruction and creativity that this somewhat motley but still deeply connected community in exile have been fighting to cultivate. I think that maybe the point of it was not so much for viewers to understand, but simply to witness what was happening and remember.

Afterwards, we moved back to the same house that we had initially entered for what I have to say was one of the most delicious meals I’ve had so far—spicy potatoes and rice—and the first alcohol we’ve seen since Delhi, which I think was basically warm apple cider with spliced fruit and rum in it. Delicious food and drink to warm our toes before we went back out into the monsoon and up the waterfall stairs to our cabs, returning to where we had come from to sleep.

Hey folks!

We’ve pretty much gotten settled in here at Sarah, so I’m going to take the opportunity to make the next few posts about things that happened earlier in the trip that I haven't had a chance to share yet. 

On our first Friday here, the school hosted what they called a “talent show” as a way to welcome us and make us feel at home (and to give us an opportunity to perform as well—more on that later).

There were a number of performances that featured traditional Tibetan songs, dances performed by groups of men and women, and music performed on Tibetan instruments. This was probably the most educational component of the show, because even though we could not understand the words the style of the music and the dance was very distinctive. The singing is very elaborate, with some complex rhythms and very interesting vocal runs.

Probably the most common kind of performance in the show were the covers of pop songs—some Indian songs and more than a few American classics. These were funny and entertaining in all the ways that karaoke with friends can be fun, except with heavy accents and much more enthusiasm overall. As one of the honorary guests, I would like to present two special awards. First, Best in Show goes to: Where is the Love performed in full, including all the parts, with gusto by a very talented singer. Second, the award for Most Uncomfortable for All Involved goes to: Beat It performed by another equally enthusiastic though perhaps slightly less talented man.

Actually that second one was probably only uncomfortable for the few of us who actually knew what all the words meant. The older monks seemed unimpressed. Regardless, midway through these performances we were able to do our part: two songs prepared specifically for the occasion, on the day of, by a few stellar members of our program.

First, a lovely re-worded version of the Billy Joel song Piano Man (no explanation for the Tibetan bits yet, I’m saving that for a later post), and second the almost entirely original work “My Life as Rickshaw Driver,” set to the tune of Puget Sound’s alma mater, as promised in one of my previous posts:

It's 7:00 o'clock on a Friday

The Sarah students shuffle in

There's an old man sitting next to me

It’s Passang and he’s got a big grin

He says, "Let’s all join in the talent show--

I'm excited to see how it goes

And it's fun and it's sweet

And a good way to meet

So quickly our friendships will grow."

Geshe la, di da da...

Geshe la, di da da da dum...

Sing us a song for the talent show

Sing us a song tonight.

Well we're all in the mood for a melody

And you've got us feeling alright.

Now Franciscka-la is a friend of mine.

She teaches Tibetan with glee.

She told us the monkeys are friendly

but they’ll rob you blind, oh you’ll see.

(Chorus)

We say, "Julia, is this a contour line?"

Or is this just a sketch?

"Because this is my very first drawing class

And I don’t have the hang of it yet."

Now Tsetan-la’s a world-wide traveler

Who’s also a Sarah graduate’s wife.

And she's talking with Nunzan, who just got done snoozin’

And has a super cool life.

And the Tibetans are practicing philosophy

As the monks debate on the lawn

Yes they're sharing the truth from his holiness

As enlightenment is starting to dawn.

Tashi Delek at the talent show.

Tashi Delek from me.

Thanks so much for the generosity

There’s nowhere else we’d rather be.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Life as a Rickshaw Driver:

My life as a rickshaw driver

We pedal very far

My life as a rickshaw driver

We’ll take you to the stars

We pedal over mountains

And through the Delhi streets

My life as a rickshaw driver

Is really hard to beat

All hail to the rickshaw driver

All hail da-da-da-dum

All hail da-da-da-dum

To thee!

My life as a rickshaw driver

Is full of sights and sounds

My life as a rickshaw driver

Knows no holy bounds

Around the cars and cows we swerve

Through the hills we take the curves

My life as a rickshaw driver

I’ll take you anywhere

My life as a rickshaw driver

You’ll haggle for your fair

Through the honks and beeps we ride

Snuggled side by side by side

All hail to the rickshaw driver

Your very best guide!!

I hope you all enjoyed imagining what these excellent songs must have sounded like. You might think that we basically stole the show. But oh, how far from the truth that would be. The closing act of the evening was a play that may or may not have been called Buddhist Hell Part II. 

We’re not sure, because the announcing and the performance were in Tibetan. Actually, we didn’t understand any of the apparently funny jokes or very much about the plot either, so let me just state the premise and leave it to your imagination to decide what it was like. Mao, Hitler, and Osama are in the Buddhist hell, going through the violent tortures and trials they were sentenced to by Lao Tzu, who presided over the entire thing. There were beatings and screaming and caricatures and inside jokes and a good time was had by all. And there is clearly a great deal for us to learn about Tibetan humor.

That's all folks. Later I will talk about something else that stood out from our first week: the free Tibet performance art show.

Many of you are probably already aware of the ongoing conflict between China and Tibet. It is a serious and tragic topic and something we are going to be learning a lot about here.

But we haven’t really delved into it too deeply yet, and in our daily experience a conflict that is maybe a little similar if also a little less dramatic has been taking place. An age old battle between two opposing clans: the stray dogs and the red faced macaw monkeys.

You might have seen the puppies in one of my earlier posts. They are the newest generation of dogs that have been living here at the college for a number of years. They aren’t exactly owned by anyone in particular—but they seem to get by on the waste left over from the operations of the school and the love, affection, and donated clothes and blankets of the students and staff here. As far as I can tell there are maybe half a dozen adult dogs and probably 20+ pups running around the place that have full access to the cafeteria spaces, outsides of the dorms, roofs of the buildings, and most other spaces.

Having dogs around is great, but in addition to adding cuteness to the setting and a constant supply of fluffy animals to love, they also provide a valuable service: protection from the threatening monkeys.

The monkeys around here are pretty cute too—unless you get too close. A few days ago three members of our group went for a run and ran into what we’ve now determined must have been an alpha monkey. This was a very angry very defensive monkey, and when he charged my colleagues had no choice but to run for their lives. Two escaped unscathed, but the third fell off a ledge and got cut up pretty badly.

Altogether, things could have actually gone a lot worse. Apparently the monkeys carry a specific sprain of herpes that has a 50% mortality rate if you are able to get the proper medical treatment. Which might not be super easy, given that we are in a rural area of India. So the worst thing to do is to let them bite or scratch you in any way at all.

The dogs and the monkeys don’t get along, but for now it seems like the dogs have the upper paw. They are faster at moving along the open ground around the school, and extra protective of what for them is a great source of food—us.

Since nobody was permanently injured in the now infamous monkey incident of 2014, we’ve adopted a policy of making a joke out of the monkeys—probably because we don’t dare challenge them in the open like the dogs do. Your toothbrush fell on the floor? Probably the monkeys. Going to the dining hall for a bottle of water? Watch out for the monkeys. Somebody unplugged your computer and ate the last of your cookies in the lounge? Next time lock the door so the monkeys don’t get in.

That last one has a particular significance for me. My roommate usually leaves for prayer and comes back to the room before I'm awake in the morning. A few days ago I thought I heard him come in and start opening a package of cookies, but when he wasn't closing to door after a few moments I looked up to check. And there at the foot of his bed there was a monkey, playing with the plastic packaging. Neither of us knew the other was there until that moment, so I used the element of surprise and my size to my advantage and shook the covers of my bed at him. He fled out the door, and so far there have been no further incidents.

I just thought you should all know about some of the drama here in Dharamsala. Classes are under way here as well, but I don’t have anything else to report to you fine folks. Goodbye for now! Oh, and here’s another photo. I’ll let you decide whether it is morning fog or residual smog: