Hike to the waterfall…

 

On Sunday (May 20), we followed Kunchok to the Buddhist Temple in McLeod Ganj, to which the Dalai Lama's house was attached. We sat there enjoying the view and fervor of the Buddhist monks and nuns.
 

Tibetans are deeply religious people and it is not rare to see a Tibetan interrupt and resume his/her prayers around exchanges with others.

 

                

 
I enjoyed the peacefulness of the place and the Tibetans natural happiness! A simple "Tashi Delek!" (Tibetan salutation) would immediately illuminate their faces with the happiest smiles! Tibetans are of a peaceful and happy nature but also very shy. However, they love to laugh and have a great sense of humor: even with language barriers, they make jokes with gestures and a few words. It was amazing to realize how they would jump on every opportunity to laugh!

 

 
We turned the prayer rolls touring the Temple and passed through the kitchen smelling chai tea…
 

Outside stood a big board with pictures of Tibetans who sacrificed their life for Tibet's Independence.

Kunchok led us through a nice walk around the Temple, on a path on the mountainside. There, macaques, goats and cows were sharing the space with passers-by.
 
     

The colorful Buddhist prayer-flags were hanging here and there and a Buddhist shrine showed a plaque showed a painting of the Dalai Lama receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. Underneath, one could read the following words:

"Tibet enjoys a 2000 year old history of independence, and Tibetans shares a race, language, customs and habits which are completely different from China. In 923 A.D., Tibetan and Chinese ancestors renounced their violent past and signed a peace treaty. Stone steles were erected inscribed with the words "Tibetans shall be happy in Tibet and Chinese shall be happy in China". Although the stele still stands as a witness the Chinese violated that peace treaty and invade Tibet in 1949. They indulged in humane killing and torture, looting and destruction and in damaging the environment. To carry out their policy of colonialism, Tibet, which is known as roof of the world, has and is being turned into the center of Chinese nuclear and military ambitions.
The Tibetans in general and especially the brave living and dead Tibetan heroes, unrelenting and not discouraged, continue to hold high the plag of Tibetan struggle for truth. Their accomplishments and determination shall be remembered and rejoiced in by the future generation of Tibetans.
We would like to remind all the Tibetans both in and outside Tibet, and those who respect universal human rights, truth and freedom that it is their duty to support the Tibetan cause. For the survival of peace in this world, and for the speedy solution to the Tibetan struggle, we sincerely pray from the depth of our heart."

 
Later on the path, another plaque holding a prayer reminds the passers-by of the Tibetan's concerns for the environment:

"A Prayer For All Sentient Beings
For the well-being of Mother Earth-- holder of all life forms; for all its inhabitants in general; and particularly to protect the endangered species from the brink of extinction, His Holiness the Dalai Lama issued a special appeal to all Tibetans to abstain from using the products of species facing extinction. Following His Holiness' appeal, Tibetans inside and in exile destroyed their highly-treasured possessions made from endangered species and pledged never to use them again. This selfless act by the Tibetan people is an important milestone in environmental protection-- worthy of admiration, remembrance and a source of inspiration for people the world over.
Remembering the countless endangered species that have died for us, we pray that all human beings be guided by the compassion of the Noble One to live harmoniously with Mother Nature."
July 6, 2007
Tesi Environmental Awareness Movement Priject Funded by Rowell Fund through the International Campaign for Tibet
 

 
As I passed my head above the hanging curtain of a little Temple on the path, I saw a monk praying, he smiled at me without interrupting his prayer and signed me to come sit with him. I hesitated, looking back and trying to warn someone form the group that I was about to enter the Temple but no one was in sight. I took off my shoes and entered. The monk lifted the burgundy cushion to have me sit on the low step. I sat and was enjoying his chanting but I heard Bryan calling my name… I tried to gesture some excuse for being so disruptive and the monk smiled at me again, still chanting.
I left the room and turned to look over the curtain again: the monk was already back in contemplation, I wanted to take a picture of this moment, of this smiling monk in this little red room lighted by the morning sun through small windows… Instead I memorized the instant and joined Bryan and the rest of the group.

 
After lunch, Kunchok agreed to take some of us for a hike to a waterfall. The day was really hot and we were worried about the traffic in the mountain: this weekend had seen a big cricket game in which Dharamsala was playing. The game had brought a loud crowd to McLeod Ganj which was still on the mountain road… But Kunchok was to take us to a different route and the walk was really enjoyable up to the village preceding the river side.


 

 
On the way, I was shocked by the number of women working on the construction fields carrying rocks on their head!


In the last village, we passed by a pool reserved to men. The women pool was supposedly hidden and covered and truly the men looks on our group were insisting and disturbing. But this was not the least of my surprise: from the path we could look down to the river. People were bathing and having fun all along the river up to the waterfall about 2 kilometers up. But as I shot pictures, I realized that the only people enjoying the refreshing water in this strong heat were the men!
 

 
The few women who were down in the river were putting no more than their feet into the water. Some were there watching the children holding an umbrella while the men of the family were having fun splashing and bathing in the natural pool formed along the river… Other women were cleaning and drying large carpets. In the meantime, men on the path were still giving us insisting looks.
 


We did not care to go up to the waterfall anymore. It was hot and I think everyone could feel something we couldn't get used to: the difference of treatment between men and women was always disturbing and so overwhelming that I couldn't enjoy the beauty of the landscape fully…


We headed back to McLeod Ganj…

and contemplated life from our balconies…


… Or on each other’s balcony…

Kunchok Dorjee

 
On Saturday the next morning (May 19), Kunchok came to the Green Hotel and Bryan, Nicole and I went up to his apartment as Bryan carried the suitcase given by Lama Deshek. Bryan went his way and Kunchok took us to the Tibetan Women Association where we talked with a member of the organization and bought some books.

 
We then went back to the hotel to give the rest of the group an opportunity to follow Kunchok along with us. Haley, Lauren, Alea, Phil and Bryan joined us as Kunchok guided us to the Tibetan Youth Congress. There, we sat with a member of TYC and had a clear and very interesting explanation of the Tibetan struggle and the Chinese invasion. We were explained the Dalai-Lama's Middle Path policy, demanding an autonomous Tibet, and the conflicting views of some younger Tibetans who refused to settle and who wanted no less than Tibet's total independence.

"The members of the Tibetan Youth Congress (TYC) resolved to struggle for the cause of Tibet under the leadership of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, in the spirit of national unity without giving quarters to sectarianism and regionalism, to preserve and promote Tibetan culture and religion and to lay down their lives, if necessary, in order to regain Tibetan Independence."
We discussed the mission of TYC and learned about the Aims and Objectives of its members:
To dedicate oneself to the task of serving one's country and people under the guidance of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the spiritual and Temporal Ruler of Tibet.
To promote and protect national unity and integrity by giving up all distinctions based on religion, regionalism or status.
To work for the preservation and promotion of Tibet's unique culture, traditions and the Dharma.
To struggle for the rightful independence of Tibet even at the cost of one's life.
(www.tibetanyouthcongress.org)


 

Kunchok then led us to the Lung-Ta House where we met members of the Former Political Prisoner's Association of Tibet. The organization receives and helps ex-political prisoners with food, shelter, financial assistance and psychological support. We visited a display room showing keys events through pictures of Tibet since the beginning of the Chinese invasion. Disturbing pictures showed the results of the torture inflicted to Tibetan political prisoners and some of the tools used to this end, such as miniature handcuffs designed to tight the thumb of each hand together. The visit was an emotional moment for all of us and the pictures moved us to tears.
(www.guchusum.org)
 

   
We went back into in McLeod Ganj's main street, looking around before splitting for lunch and joining the hotel where we rested on our balconies. There we enjoyed the views and spotted several monkeys on the roofs before us.

En route to Dharamsala!!!

 
Friday, early in the morning (May 18), we said goodbye to Dr. Jones who was to stay behind as a member of our group was too sick to pursue the journey. She would make sure everything would be okay for our friend and join us in Dharamsala later. Bryan and Nicole went from chaperons to being in charge of our group. We headed to the airport and flew 2 hours away to reach Amritsar's airport. There I noticed a sign encouraging customers to seek help and asking them not to pay bribes to anyone!
 

 
A minibus and a car awaited for us outside. We began our 7 hour ride to Dharamsala, which turned closer to a 6 hour ride as our drivers drove so fast.
I spoke with our Nepalese driver while taking picture from the minibus. He explained to me that there was always an implied competition between drivers and that he did not like the other driver who was hired the week before. I quickly noticed their road game type of driving and reminded our driver that we were in no rush at all. The ride was amazing, it was fascinating to observe the Indians in their daily life around this main road.

 
Motorcycles often held more than 2 people and also animals at times. The women sarees were always so colorful and the men white shirts appeared so immaculate under the Indian sun.
 

 
We passed many students in their uniforms and numerous colorful fruit stand and sugarcane juice kiosk.
 


On the side of the road, hemp was growing everywhere and cows, donkeys, goats and ponies could slow down the traffic at any time.
 


We stopped in Pathankot for lunch in a nice restaurant we all enjoyed.
        
Back on the road, I swapped and exchanged my spot with Jade, sitting in the car. Noora, sick with "Delhi Belly" was sleeping on the passenger seat while Phil and I sat in the back. This driver was playing race more than he was driving us. I quickly asked him to please slow down which he did… For about five minutes before he started passing cars at high speed. I asked him again to slow down and his look in the rearview mirror became more insistent and mean, he was upset and I knew why: I was a woman giving him orders! When he continued to drive with no consideration, I asked him to call the other driver which he did reluctantly: I spoke to Bryan and asked him to make sure the bus driver would keep up with us and make sure we were behind. This is when our driver decided to drive extremely slow and to let every other cars between the bus and us, giving me mad looks in the mirror. I asked him to reach the bus, keep up with its pace and stay behind him. He was upset and not in any way hiding it, he pushed the accelerator, reached the bus and passed it, continuing to pass cars in extremis as other vehicles were coming the opposite way. When he pushed the break hard to avoid a collision with another car coming up front as he attempted to pass a truck in curve, I lost it and yelled telling him to pull over immediately! He hesitated and finally did as I yelled at him over again. Once the bus reached us, I signed them to stop and asked Bryan to take my place, telling him that this guy would kill us if a woman told him what to do. Bryan immediately swapped with me and the rest of the trip went as smoothly as it was possible! Bryan would tell me later that he never needed to address the guy beyond asking him once to stay behind and follow the bus! I was stunned and felt compelled to ask Phil to witness that the driver had consciously ignored all my requests, making a point to do the opposite…
 

Approaching the Himalayan mountains had me forget this frustrating ordeal for a moment: the mountains were stunning, the road bordered by colorful houses and people were so exotic…
 



 
I became nostalgic, so much of the landscape and people reminded me of my place of birth, Reunion island. I felt that I clearly had roots here in India. Lauren's reaction was priceless, a huge smile draw on her face, she was ecstatic! We turned the AC off and opened the windows, we were going up, the air was becoming purer and fresher… The road themselves were much cleaner, it was a first since we got in India! We passed a few bridges over clean-looking rivers. We could see snow on top of the higher mountains, pine trees became abundant, and we finally passed the first Tibetan building: the Central Tibetan Secretariat Gangchen Kyishong!

We saw more and more Buddhist monks walking on the side of the roads, crossing the streets, they would become a very familiar sight for the next two weeks!
We entered Dharamsala and finally McLeod Ganj: we were in another world! Perched on the side of a mountain with the most colorful houses was the village which would shelter us...

 

A
s the traffic stopped us at an intersection, I jumped: standing in the street, a couple meters away from me, was Tenzin Tsundue, the poet, writer and Tibetan activist which lead the march from Dharamsala to the Indian-Tibetan border. Tenzin recounted the story iof the march in the movie The Sun behind the Clouds, also featuring the Dalai-Lama. I asked him if I could take a picture of him, to which he wondered why. I told him that we were in Dharamsala to work with ANEC and that we knew about his fight and knew him from the "Sun behind the Clouds". He agreed but didn't seem very fond of the idea. I figured he wondered if I was taking a picture of him as just someone "famous" or maybe if I even got the message behind his activism. Either way he seemed uncomfortable with the moment…

The Green Hotel was right around the corner… We took possession of our keys and split in our rooms. I partnered with Ashley and discovered a beautiful corner room with 2 large windows: one with an incredible view on the valley, a second at the bedhead with a view on a snowy mountain. A door opened to a long corner-balcony, the floor was of white marble everywhere. On the right, our balcony was contiguous to Lauren and Mallory's and continued to that of Phil and Bryan; we quickly got into the habit of jumping from one balcony to the other. On the left, we could see the contiguous building and Jade and Noora's balcony which continued to Nicole's and ended with Haley and Alea's balcony which, we would find out later, was one of the monkeys' favorite hanging out spot…



We sat on our balconies admiring the view and taking in. Everything was so perfect and beautiful, we made it to Dharamsala and I was still dizzy from seeing so much in such a short period of time… India had played with our emotions. Once more, I realized how much this country was made of contrasts: no nuance, hate or love, day or night, and all at once.









































We quickly saw our first monkeys in the back of the hotel. I called Kunchok Dorjee, for whom I had a suitcase from his brother, Lama Deshek. I had met Lama Tenzin Deshek a month before, a friend of mine had advised me to talk to him for advice as he had spent much of his life in Dharamsala and had a brother there. Lama Deshek happened to live a couple blocks away from me. Upon meeting him, I offered him to bring items to his brother, up to a full suitcase as I wasn't planning to check in any luggage.

(With Lama Deshek before I left Birmingham)


And so we would meet Kunchok the next day…

Taj Mahal, Agra Fort & more…

 
Wednesday was a big day, we departed early in the morning to catch our train to the city of Agra, where we were to visit the Taj Mahal and the city’s Fort. As Dr. Jones was looking for our train, some men attempted to steer her in a corridor, she refused and joined us back, we found our train and we were on our way to Agra.

 
The Taj Mahal was an incredible visit, I was mesmerized by the white marble structure surrounded by its four towers and incrusted of precious stones.

 

 

 
The gardens held some beautiful white bird with an orange neck and face stumping in some puddle on the grass.

The back of the Taj Mahal was a beautiful surprise: the bed of the Yamuna river was mostly uncovered by the dry season and gardens stood on the opposite shore.

 


 

Behind the Taj Mahal, the Yamuna river and the Agra Fort afar…

We could see the red Agra Fort from a distance:

 

On the way out, I couldn't help but to admire the colorful sarees of Indian women contrasting with the green grass at the foot of the Taj Mahal.

 
We left the "Taj" and headed towards the Agra Fort for an amazing experience! The Fort, we thought, did not get enough credit and was too often shadowed by the fame of the Taj Mahal… But maybe the story of the Taj Mahal adds to its majesty: the monument is the biggest ever built for the love of a woman… The Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan built the now famous Mausoleum in memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. In the Agra Fort, where the Shah was later imprisoned by his son, we visited gorgeous palaces, with rooms allowing a view on the Taj Mahal. The story says that the Shah dig a hole in the wall of his cell to look at the Taj Mahal…


 

A view of the Taj Mahal from the Agra Fort:


                 

The Taj from a room of the Fort:

 


Monkeys watching over the Fort of Agra:

Leaving the Agra Fort, we headed to Fatehpur Sikri, the Tomb of Salim Chisti. 

There, I must have had the worst experience of my entire trip, the most overwhelming. From the time we got out of the bus, we were surrounded and followed by people who solicited us to buy from their store. Wasps were flying in great numbers all over. We stopped to get water and this only made the solicitors more demanding. Even during a bathroom stop, men were harassing us. A store owner tried me and followed us to the bus-shuttle that was taking the tourists to the site. He acted more gently than others and had me say okay to stop by his store to "just look" at it. When we arrived to the site, a number of tour guide began harassing us. We said we would not hire anyone and explained that one of the students had prepared a presentation of the site. One of the guide would not take this for an answer and during the entire visit of the first site he followed us and kept offering a lower price. We felt really unprotected up there. The tourists weren't numerous and the "guides" and locals were. The guide's behavior was so insistent that he had become threatening. He was no longer smiling and was rumbling about how we would be missing and that he could tell us so much about such and such building, that we would get lost… He would not let us look at anything anymore. I was more than uncomfortable at that point, I was scared. We found our way out from the first site and proceeded to the mosque. There, kids began to harass us to buy there postcards or items. Destin and Jade decided to stay outside and skip the visit to rest. Bryan and I decided to stay out as well. A number of kids surrounded us. Two of them especially caught my attention, Reeyan and Ifai. Reeyan asked me why I wasn't going inside and I answered that he knew why. His response was "we are too pushy" and I acquiesced. This started our conversation, the two kids asked me all sorts of questions, they wanted to know if I had children, my age, what I was doing… I asked them their age, Ifai was 7 and Reeyan "thought" he was 12. He did not know his precise age. At one point a group of men, who looked like Indian tourists to me, made all the surrounding children very nervous, they all ran away constantly looking for the men's actions, obviously fearing something. As the men went in the mosque the children came back toward us. Reeyan kept telling me that I should go inside because it was really pretty. I told him that I would stay right where I was. That's when he got one of his postcard book out and told me "I'll show you what's inside!" I immediately told him I would not buy anything from him, he insisted that he would simply show me what was inside. He open his booklet and told me about the building: its height, its builder, the entire history of the site was coming out flawlessly! I was stunned by his memory and his clarity of speech and asked him why he wasn't a guide, he responded that the government wouldn't let him. I sought for more explanation and could only get that he was too young and that the adults would not let him. I was really impressed and told him, he answered that he could also speak in Spanish, French or Russian. I told him I was French and Ifai immediately told me "vous etes jolie mademoiselle!", I tried them in French and in Spanish and they indeed could speak some of both languages… Before I left, I told the two children that I would buy a set of cards from each of them but would only do so as we would leave and in the most discreet possible manner so not to be followed by all the kids around. My efforts to hide the transaction would prove useless, the children were constantly watching us and every single move would alert them and activate their begging which was most aggressive as we were leaving the site. Our departure was quite dramatic as everyone was getting really nervous. We entered the bus-shuttle as the children were still following us and Noora was groped upon entering. Reeyan had followed me to the bus and was smiling at me as I sat. Through the open window he said "Good luck, Genevieve!" We grabbed each other's hand and I responded "Good luck to you, Reeyan!"; I could not hide my tears and I will always remember his eyes and the look on his face while he looked at me, waving goodbye. Leaving the shuttle we still had to face the vendors soliciting us, the man who had followed me to the bus was waiting on me asking me to visit his shop, I told him I had no money left and that we had a horrible experience at the sites. The man claimed he was sorry for me but he managed to insist, telling me "You promised you would look at my store!", the fact that I told him I had given all my money to the kids did not matter as he did not believe me…
Back to our bus, we met Rachna, a tour guide who had asked me on our way in if we could give her a ride back to Agra as she would have to wait on a late bus otherwise. Dr. Jone saw no objection and Rachna got in with us. After getting myself back together, I sat with Rachna and we talked. I found out she was one of the owners of the very nice restaurant we had lunch in that day. A very independent woman, she loved her job as a tour guide and left to her husband the daily management of the restaurant while she guided her customers into Agra.

With Rachna:

 
We reached the Agra train station in the evening. Out of the bus, kids were begging incessantly. I let a kid have my bottle of water and immediately another one grabbed the bottle out of his hands and ran away. Our guide gathered us before walking into the station to give us advice: we were to walk straight, ignore the beggars, not even look at them, and especially not respond to any solicitation as this would only attract more beggars beyond control.


We rested during our two hour train ride on the Shadabdi Express, barely touching our too-spicy dinner. Back in Delhi, we reached our air-conditioned hotel with delight one more time…