18 May 2007 - Road to Dharamsala

Dharamsala, India

Though brief, I couldn’t have asked for a better stay in Delhi. On the second day I met up with a couple of Fulbrighters for lunch. Tim has been here for 3 months and has been traveling with his fiancée. He actually proposed to his girlfriend during their visit to the Taj Mahal. Because Indian culture is conservative and PDA (even holding hands) is a huge taboo, she couldn’t even hug or kiss him after she said yes. They went in for an embrace and it quickly diverted to a pat on the back. The other Fulbrighter, Bryce, is an alum from last year. He loves it here so much, he ended up extending his grant period, going back to the US to work and save money, and then came back again in December. Meeting them was the biggest relief. I thought I was the only one that felt totally disoriented in this program, but as it turns out, that’s how most people feel. A lot of that feeling comes from the total and utter freedom we have to study and learn and do whatever we want as long as we tell them where we are. It’s sort of hard to believe that all they expect of us is to immerse ourselves in the culture and make the most of this opportunity.

After lunch and taking care of some business at the Fulbright foundation, I went with Bryce to pick up his bus tickets from the bus station in Old Delhi. This presented a great opportunity to see the central bus station, which inevitably I’m sure to use, and the metro train.

As it is, Delhi is considered a conservative city relative to the other big cities in India, and Old Delhi is a part of the city that is ultra-old school. I would say about 90 percent of the women I’ve seen in the city where a salwar kameez (a long tunic with poofy pants and a scarf covering the front of their neck/chest area) or a saree. Walking through Old Delhi off the metro and the bus station was fine with Bryce, but I couldn’t help but feel that if I were alone, it would be somewhat uncomfortable. I’m used to foreign cities like Saigon where you mostly see women vendors, civic workers, etc. In Delhi, it’s nearly all men in those kinds of roles. Whereas men wear collared button down shirts and slacks, and carry briefcases and they can wear shorts and t-shirts or tank tops, it’s unacceptable for women to reveal any part of their legs or shoulders without being gawked at, especially as a foreigner. As I walked with Bryce I kept thinking that as a man, he has a totally different experience than a foreign women does. This is neither good nor bad to me, but just something I’m trying to understand better and adapt to.

Situated in the Himalayan Mountains in northern India, Dharamsala is home to thousands of Tibetan refugees and the Tibetan government-in-exile. I got into to town in the early evening after a feverish, bumpy and dusty 12-hour car ride. I have to learn Hindi ASAP. I couldn’t communicate with the driver very well, i.e. not at all. He was really nice though. I’m not sure if the A/C didn’t work, or if didn’t want to waste gas, but we drove all morning and afternoon with all the windows rolled down, mostly behind huge diesel trucks and buses. That was all good though because I’ve experienced similar driving conditions in Vietnam. It’s just that it’s been so long that I forgot how scary it can be to drive on windy and narrow, unguarded mountain roads for 5+ hours as the trucks in opposing traffic recklessly speed forcing small cars, like the one I was in, to dodge onto the cliff-side shoulder to avoid an accident.

So when I arrived in Dharamsala, I was a little out of it from the trip up. I felt nervous that maybe they wouldn’t like me, or I wouldn’t like this place. And in the midst of feeling this way and trying to figure out if I was in the right place, an older man in red and yellow robes, with a kind face waved hello. It was Mr. Lhakdor, Director of the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives. He was with Choedar, the caretaker of the guesthouse. I couldn’t believe how laid back and welcoming they were. I told him that I was feeling a little nervous, and he was like, “Why?! Don’t worry, you’re safe here and you’re in good hands.” They showed me where I would be staying, and then we went for a tea and chat. Mr. Lhakdor is beyond witty and savvy. He was HH the DL’s translator for 19 years before taking the Director position here at the Library. I asked him a bunch of random questions like where I could buy a bath towel, etc. and he told me that Choedar would help me with all of those kinds of things. Later on he said, ‘don’t worry about anything. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask me. I’ve been living here a long time so I might have what you need just lying around.’ Then he added, ‘ just treat me like as old friend and whatever you need, just ask me.’

I happened to come on the first night of the two-day annual Library staff party/picnic so after I settled in a bit, Choedar and I walked to the roof of the Library where the cooking staff had prepared an amazing cuisine of Tibetan/Indian and Chinese dishes. There were literally 15 different vegetarian dishes! Everyone got a plate and when each person was done eating, he/she washed his/her own dish and put it away. Then they played games while American pop music blared in the background.

After dinner Choedar told me about how he escaped China with 15 other young people in 1997 by WALKING from Tibet to India. He left when it was almost wintertime so temperatures were frigid. They walked at night from 7:30p to 5:30a, hiding and sleeping during the day. Each day they were told that the next day they would arrive in Dharamsala. Choedar said he almost gave up, but the group finally made it after a month. I asked him why he wanted to come to Dharamsala, as opposed to settling in one of the other places along the way, including Nepal where there is a community of Tibetan refugees and he said he just wanted to come where his HH was. He left his whole family behind in Tibet and hasn’t seen them for 10 years.

Especially after making the trip up here myself, I’m amazed to think of all the people that have traveled near and far to reach Dharamsala, India.