Mcleod Ganj

Deluxe Bus/Death Bus

After deciding not to take up my train ticket to Amritsar, I bought a (criminally overpriced) 'Deluxe' bus ticket to Mcleod Ganj , Dharamsala. After waiting for an hour all on my lonesome, it appeared like I would be taking the 17 hour bus solo. I walked round the corner to set eyes on the bus for the first time and, Dear God! It was anything but deluxe. I would be surprised if it even started, let alone whether or not it was fit for the road. I have a photo, which I will have to post later, but I'm sure it won't do it justice. There were no seat belts, missing windows that let in the freezing cold Himalayan night air, the seats were practically falling off their hinges and the depth of dirt embedded in the upholstery was seriously not worth thinking about. Oh, and the whole 17 hour journey, most of which was winding up and up the tight roads of the sheer mountain edge, was a constant thud of up-down-up-down-up-down. Road surfacing does not exist in India. By the end of the sleepless journey I had almost put my neck out and due to the arctic climate of the inside of our bus, had lost all feeling in any one of my toes. Luckily, the one other person on board the bus was a fellow traveler, Lee from California. We tried to keep each other sane and laughed about the situation we were in; my new favourite tactic in circumstances so helplessly and utterly outside of your control.

                                                           *                  *                  *

Once in Ganj I managed to find my hotel with the help of Lee, a second timer, fairly easily. Owing largely to the fact it is called the Pink House. And, yup, you guessed it, it's big and pink.

"The Snow Lion"


Quite easily the funniest, most bizarre and surreal night of my trip so far has to be my first evening in Mcleod Ganj. During the day, once I had dumped my stuff off at the hotel and was exploring the small town, I bumped into Lee again. We were drinking in a coffee shop and chatting about nothing in particular when a Tibetan guy caught Lee's eye. He was dressed in a "Free Tibet" t-shirt and red Ray Ban sunglasses, clearly standing out in sea of traditional Tibetan dress. Before Lee could even finish telling me how interesting he looked, the guy had come up the stairs to our table, introduced himself (as the "Lion Man") and asked to sit down. To cut a long story short he was performing a musical extravaganza (!) that night, involving the story of his journey from Tibet and featuring "traditional" song and dance. And so later that evening I headed to the rooftop restaurant to check it out. There was a group of people already there and waiting. After first hearing his story, in broken English, about his struggle in fleeing his beloved country, he performed two of these said "traditional" dances. They were certainly something, and not easy to describe. Imagine expressive dance mixed with flutes, and then saxophones, and maybe you might be somewhere close. Then came the song, again just as bizarre (and A Capella might I add). But things really took an unexpected turn when he banged up the '90's dance; it was then things just got plain bizarre. First it was dancing with the potted Palm Tree plant in the corner of the room (not a prop), in such a way that I can only describe it as though he must have honestly thought it was the last woman on earth. Then came the dancing with the lamp shades, which he pulled of the lights, and then, the 'pick on the audience' part. Luckily, the large group at the table were a bunch of American Ambassay teachers working in Delhi and were such great sports. I tactically managed to avoid getting up and dancing (hide yourself in the corner) but most of the Americans were incredible sports and embraced the surreal turn of events that were spiralling out of control before all of our completely moritfied eyes! Certain events of this night may haunt us all forever and will be better left unsaid! I'll try to post a photo or two (and maybe even the video!) at a later date, computer willing.

                                                           *                  *                  *

The Dalai Lama

One thing I was completely unaware of when coming to India, and indeed for the majority of my time here, was that the Dalai Lama would be giving a special 3-day teaching in Mcleod Ganj (his, and the Tibetan Government in Exile's, home) starting on my last day in the area, 30th November. It was a fact me and Sol realised only days before in Rishkesh when googling Mediation and Buddist courses in Mcleods Ganj. This was unbelievable! What a once in a lifetime experience, and an utter fluke of amazingly good fortune! So, on my first day I registered for the teachings. It set me back 2 passport photos, 5 minutes and 10 Rupees. Incredible!

On the 30th November, at 7.45am, me and Sol walked down to the the temple for His Holiness the Dalai Lama's teachings for Russian Buddists. We checked through security for 'Foreign Visitors' and through the sea of people; Russian, Tibetan, European, Indian; every kind of nationality was there. We went up to the first floor, the very floor from which he was teaching, and found our spot in the crowd (everyone had reserved seats days in advance by putting out a multitude of coloured cushions, sheets, name placards etc) and the place was already packed out. The Dalai Lama was already there and talking! His voice amplified through the loud speakers. We tuned in our FM radio's to the English translation and heard the Dalai Lama joking about, of all things, how hungry we must all be! But not to worry, traditional Tibetan tea (salty, made with butter and salt - disgusting!) and bread would shortly be handed out. And it was, by robed Monks, with great efficiency. It was 8.10am when we arrived and he was already talking, although the teachings did not start until half past, an hour earlier than billed. We had all been given a booklet of the teachings, translated into English, and so were able to follow his teachings. Although not able to physically see him from our seats, the feeling of being there, and so close, was really amazing. When the first session ended at 11.30 we were all able to watch him leave. It was an unforgettable moment and all the hairs on my body stood up on end ('horriplication' - thanks Madhav!) as I saw him walk through the mass of people and down the stairwell into a 4x4.

For the afternoon session we decided to remain in the downstairs area of the temple, as I would have to leave early to get organised before starting on the journey back to Delhi. Embarrassingly though, I had left my cushion upstairs, with the afternoon's talks having already begun. I needed that pillow for the rest of my trip, and so had to tip toe and apologise through the crowd of Monks and pilgrims in order to grab the pillow and make the repeat trip back through the crowd again. I was so embarrassed and I'm pretty sure my cheeks were the exact same colour as the Monks' robes.

The experience and blessing of being able to listen firsthand to the Dalai Lama explain "The 37 Practices of Bodhisattva" was undoubtedly the highlight of my month in India. It is truly a once in a lifetime experience and something that I never could have dreamed of before making this trip, and, part owing to the fact that cameras were prohibited and partly due to the fact that no photograph could have truly recorded the reality of that moment and the intensity of the atmosphere, is one that will stay with me always.