Chapter 30 - Mcleod Ganj [aka Tibet in exile], India

15 Days in Tibet

(almost)

Flag of Tibet

Contact: Mcleod Ganj, just above Dharamsala.

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I first became interested in the Dalai Lama when I picked up a book called The Art of Happiness. I HIGHLY recommend this book. For less than twenty bucks I can honestly say that I'm a happier person. Whadda deal!In it, he explains simple common-sense ways that we can live happier. While I'm pretty skeptical of religion, he made Buddhism seem extremely logical. Since then I've kept reading his books and now consider him one of the most important people alive. When I heard he was giving teachings during my time in India, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. No matter the difficulties in getting there...

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The first lesson in Buddhism is known as the Four Noble Truths. The first truth tells us that all life is suffering. My travel to Dharamsala gave me an unforgettable lesson in this first noble truth. First of all, the Delhi train station is one of the filthiest places I've ever seen in my life. That may sound unkind, ethnocentric, or whatever. Just come here, and you'll agree.

Based on the time estimations in the Lonely Planet I figured to get to a town called Pathankot by evening and then a two hour bus ride east to Dharamsala/Mcleod Ganj. It was a big nightmare getting a fair price for a ticket. The ticket agents would either ignore me, or tell me that the train was full. Then "helpful" men would approach and drag me into tourist agencies that gave me ridiculously inflated prices. Finally a guy walking around offered to get me a ticket for 1000 rupees ($21) with an additional bribe fee of 450 rupees ($10). At least he was being honest about the corruption, so I gave him my business. My train was two hours late, which pretty much means that it was on-time. To be fair, there were some nice people in the train station. One guy working a concession stand was looking out for me, and got worried when I started to doze off, with my bags just begging to be stolen. Finally my train arrived and I was headed north. Progress was slow, and when it started getting dark I was concerned about getting to Pathankot before the last bus to Dharamsala. One of my problems was that I had no idea where I was. Most of the stops were just desolate unmarked buildings in the middle of nowhere. When it got completely dark I had no freaking clue where I was. I think I just hoped for the best. Time and distance became of blur. I was in and out of sleep, usually waking up into a panic, frantically taking inventory of all my things to see if I'd been robbed. Finally the train reached the end of its run and everybody was pouring out. I stepped out of the train in a haze, and instead of reading Pathankot on the sign outside, it said Jammu. Jammu? What the hell is Jammu? It was 11:00pm and this was the last train of the night. I was stuck. So I cracked open the Lonely Planet to learn about my home for the night:

"Jammu is Jammu & Kashmir's second largest city and its winter capital. Stuck on the plains, in summer it becomes a sweltering contrast to the cool heights of Kashmir but from October it acquires a kinder climate. There have been a number of insurgent actions in the city and apart from being a railhead and transport hub there's no compelling reason to visit."

Wonderful! For the first time on this trip I was really worried for my safety. I stuck out like a hooker in the holyland. I also crossed a line that I thought I'd never have to break. The shame still stabs at my heart. When asked where I was from, I said I was CANADIAN! AAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Fear makes us do shameful things. I just didn't want to end up on an internet video wearing an orange jumpsuit. I hope you all can forgive me.

I explained my situation to a nice looking soldier with an AK-47. What worried me was how this guy with an AK-47 looked worried for me! Oh christ, where the hell am I? He escorted me to this empty lounge in the Jammu train station and told me not to leave until the morning. He also told me not to do any drugs. (As if I came out to Jammu to get high) It was nasty and dirty, but I had other things to worry about. I fully expected trouble. I took the seat closest to the exit, I kept all of my important items like money, passport, and ATM card in my pockets. This way if I needed to run away I could still have the essentials. Then I decided against holding my passport on my person because that would blow my cover as a harmless Canadian. When there was nothing else I could do I tried to catch some sleep on the floor. The best part of this accommodation was that every 20 minutes Indian soldiers would walk by on patrol. Their presence gave me some much needed reassurance. When the sun came up I felt like the happiest infidel in Kashmir. Maybe my paranoia got me a little carried away, but that can happen when traveling alone. I managed to get on my train back down to Pathankot, and then a bus to Dharamsala. It was pouring rain when I arrived around 5 pm, and I picked the first guesthouse I could find. I was just happy to be done with the journey.

My Jammu Lounge. I give it 1 out of 5 stars.

The next morning I woke up in heaven. I know, it sounds lame, but that's how I felt. I was in Dharamsala, which is at the foot of the Himalayas. Mcleod Ganj was a short hike up the mountain. The place has the crisp air and quiet style of a ski resort. The tops of the mountains have snow which is something I haven't seen in a while. Being so far away from the pollution of big cities, the air was clear and I could see far off into the distance.

Evidence that the Bird-Flu has spread to the Himalayas.

!!!!!!! Hokie Fever !!!!!!!

This is the patio restaurant at my guest house. It was real nice sitting out here, just staring out at the mountains. There are lots of crows and hawks flying around which were cool.

These Indians lads are taking part in the Holi Holiday. I don't know what it's for, but everybody throws colored powders and water on each other. It seemed like fun. Even old men were getting into the act, running around like kids.

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The Teachings by His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Unfortunately I couldn't get any pictures of the man himself. Cameras weren't allowed inside the temple and security was very tight. They frisked everybody and dug though bags very thoroughly. On the first day, before I knew the rules, I took my camera inside (security must have missed it) and got this single picture of the seating area. His Holiness had a throne-like chair off to the left of this shot. I thought that the best moments were when he arrives at the beginning or departs after the teaching is over. He would walk down the center aisle right by everyone. He has the friendliest smile and seems to connect with everybody like an old friend. I felt like I was looking at an old relative who I'd known my whole life. I got all happy. Physically, he was larger that I had expected. I had this image of a small little man hobbling out with a cane. I seem to imagine all wise and knowing people to be small and carrying a cane, like Ghandi, or Yoda. The Dalai Lama is a pretty big guy and in good shape for 72. He could probably play ball. There was usually a two hour lecture in the morning, and another after lunch. My attendance was about as good as in my college days. (sleep trumps all) I wish I could say that I absorbed every last piece of knowledge from His Holiness, but it would be a lie. He went really fast. I felt like I was watching a physics lecture by Albert Einstein. Then the translator had to try and keep up and tell the English speakers what he was saying. It was easier when he was reading from the text of this book, because I could follow along somewhat. Even then it was so fast I wanted to shout out, "He Dalai, howz about slowin it down for the tourists ova heaaah!" Oftentimes my mind would just wander and I'd just watch the people. In the main seating area it was probably a 50/50 mix between Tibetans and foreigners. This doesn't include all of the monks who were in the temple behind His Holiness. The Tibetans were extremely friendly and patient with all of us tourists. The old folks were especially nice. I'm sure we were unknowingly breaking dozens of traditions, but they never got annoyed. If one of us sat down on the ground without a cushion, it was common for a Tibetan to insist that you share their cushion. This is Buddhist philosophy in action. Not surprisingly, it was a very relaxed crowd. There were plenty of things to smile at like kids playing, dogs running around, occasional monkeys, and this great big cow. There was this one seating area outside the main temple, shown in the next picture. Look how serious and meditative everyone looks. Now imagine this huge cow comes strolling through like she owns the place. The Tibetans knew enough to push her away or give it a whack with a stick. The tourists, wanting to be good Buddhists didn't want to disturb another sentient being. Then, while coexisting with the cow in meditative bliss, the cow takes a huge dump right in the middle of everybody. It was hilarious. Then, to make it all the more real, a dog walks up and starts to lick the doo doo. Buddhism has a funny sense of humor, and this scenario was a brilliant example. The lesson of the day: don't take anything too seriously.
Toddlerus Tibetus. Can I get one for a souvenir?
Now I ask you, does this child look dangerous? To the People's Republic of China, Tibetan Buddhists like these two are considered "splittist" or "rebellious" just because they want to practice their religion. For anybody who doesn't know the story of Tibet, consider spending a few minutes reading up. The Chinese government has a lot to answer for in how it has mistreated Tibetans. However, they have no good reason to change, since every country in the world kisses their butt, smelling profit in the world's next big economy. It's an ugly reality of the global economy. At least during the Cold War nations could come out and say "That's bad! We condemn that!" Now we have stockholders to consider. Dammit, it aint right! (Calm down Brian, Ommmmmmm) It makes me think twice before buying that $40 TV set from WalMart, or watching the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. I'm proud to say that I've been boycotting the Olympics for years, but mostly just because they suck.

Seriously, good places to learn about this issue are at

http://www.tibet.com/ , or, http://www.freetibet.org/ , or, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibet

To be fair, I looked up "Tibet" at the Chinese Embassy website. You can check out their response as well: http://search.fmprc.gov.cn/search/new/eng_se.jsp It's very telling.

Finally, if it hurts to read, just go rent the movie Kundun.

Those of you in China (Carrie) will probably be unable to connect to these sights (for your own protection). In fact, you've probably been blocked from this blog.

This next picture talks about the Panchen Lama. He is the second most important Tibetan figure who the Tibetans believe is a reincarnated god. He was indentified as such when he was six years old. Soon thereafter, the Chinese government arrested him and his family, making him the world's youngest political prisoner. Real smooth guys, real smooth.

So why do I like this Buddhism stuff? I think it has a lot to offer Americans. I always liked the saying by the comedian George Carlin: "Your house it just the place you keep your stuff, while you go out and get more stuff." As a nation, we are great at accumulating stuff. If stuff were a measure of happiness, we'd all be dancing in the streets. So why don't we? I think this story about Buddha sheds some light.

Releasing the Cows

One day the Buddha was sitting in the wood with thirty or forty monks. They had an excellent lunch and they were enjoying the company of each other. There was a farmer passing by and the farmer was very unhappy. He asked the Buddha and the monks whether they had seen his cows passing by. The Buddha said they had not seen any cows passing by.
The farmer said, "Monks, I'm so unhappy. I have twelve cows and I don't know why they all ran away. I have also a few acres of a sesame seed plantation and the insects have eaten up everything. I suffer so much I think I am going to kill myself.
The Buddha said, "My friend, we have not seen any cows passing by here. You might like to look for them in the other direction." So the farmer thanked him and ran away, and the Buddha turned to his monks and said, "My dear friends, you are the happiest people in the world. You don't have any cows to lose. If you have too many cows to take care of, you will be very busy. "That is why, in order to be happy, you have to learn the art of cow releasing. You release the cows one by one. In the beginning you thought that those cows were essential to your happiness, and you tried to get more and more cows. But now you realize that cows are not really conditions for happiness; they constitute an obstacle for your happiness. That is why you are determined to release your cows."

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In other words, "The stuff you own, winds up owning you."

-Fight Club

The Dalai Lama spent some time talking about the dangers of "afflictive emotions." Examples of these are greed, lust, anger, and attachment. This last one, attachment, is what the story is warning us about. I'll share another example. I have this friend who bought a station wagon. Since buying a station wagon is a very shameful act for a YOUNG MAN, I'll protect his indentity by calling him Jeff-X. (you know who you are) Mr. X loved his station wagon. It looked something like this: It made him happy. He even bought shiny wheels and racing tires for his station wagon. Next, he modified his station wagon so that it rode only a few inches off the ground. This made Mr. X even happier. Then one day Mr. X walked outside to discover that his station wagon had been stolen! Mr. X was not happy anymore. He cursed the fates, he cursed his fellow man, and he cursed society as a whole. We, his friends, gave him our sympathy (although we were laughing on the inside) To our conventional wisdom, Mr. X was a victim of criminals and entitled to get upset. The Buddha would say "No!". The fault belongs to Mr. X. He made that station wagon a condition for his own happiness. He had become attached. Mr. X's misfortune can benefit us all, because we can now learn the danger of attachment. There is a further postscript which makes this story even more saddening. A few weeks later the police found the station wagon stripped of its shiny racing wheels, and Mr. X still drives his station wagon even today. What a sad, sad man.

Well, I can't stay hidden up here in the mountains forever. Mcleod Ganj has been a worthwhile and educational retreat. Getting to see the Dalai Lama will definitely be one of the highlights of this trip. Now I'm gonna go slug it out through India and hopefully stay out of the hands of any insurgents. Wish me luck.

-Thanks for Reading-

OMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

--------FREE TIBET!-------