Follow the Sun

So I spent a few days in Delhi, which I really don’t recommend…unless you like noisy, polluted cities.  I was there awaiting the train that would take me north to Pathankot where I would board a bus for Dharamsala.  I mostly spent my time reading and staying away from the noise and crowds as much as possible.  I’ve discovered that being in all that mess just puts me in a foul mood.  However, Delhi did end on a somewhat positive note.  As I was walking into a store (on my way to buy snacks for the train) a man grabs me from behind and he was about to get an elbow to chest when I turned around and saw that it was Gurpreet, a friend I met in Hampi.  We had a chai and a beer and then he walked me to the train station.

Lluckily the train was delayed or I may not have made it…and then it continued to be delayed (for about 3 more hours) where  I had the (mis)fortune of watching a guy abuse a couple of dogs trying to get them to fight (this was after G and I saw another group of guys outside of the station kicking another dog and laughing their asses off about it)…so of course I had to say something.

The population of India just doesn’t seem to know how to treat dogs…the cow may be sacred, but the dogs are less than animals.

The train ride was pretty uneventful but let me ask you guys something.  Do you think that at midnight on a sleeper train is the appropriate time to try and pick a new ringtone?  Or that 5am is the appropriate time to play loud music without the aid of headphones?  Or is 6am an even better time to try to find that ringtone?  I woke up cranky and with a stuffy nose.

So my train finally made it into Pathankot where I was promptly put on a bus for Dharamsala…or so I thought.  Before I got on the bus I must have asked atleast 5 different people if this was the bus to Dharamsala, all said yes.  When the bus was moving and I paid my fare I told the guy I was going to Dharamsala…he didn’t even bat an eyelash and handed me the ticket.  Well, about halfway through the journey (after napping b/c there seemed to be a cold coming on) I started to notice that the town we were going through had the same name as a town I passed on the train.  I get out the guidebook, look at the map and realize that I’m on the road to Amritsar…about 3 & 1/2 hours in the direction I had just come by train and 30km from the Pakistan border…atleast 6 hours by bus to Dharamsala .

SoI get off the bus in Amritsar and start to get the usual from the rickshaw wallahs and such (and mind you, I was not in the mood)…so I walk over to the clearest spot I see, sit down on my bag and burst out crying (it was one of those releases that just needed to happen) but of course that attracted the attention from every man that was standing around…which at first just started to piss me off…but they were just concerned for my welfare and after speaking to them they directed me to a guest house  and told me about the state bus that leave at noon the next day for Dharamsala.  I must have looked like some sort of lunatic…crying because I got on the wrong bus!

So the next morning I have breakfast and then get myself to the bus station.  I had about 20 minutes to wait.  When I sat down I noticed that there was a man that seemed to be paying me a bit too much attention.  At first there was someone sitting between us on the bench but once he got up this particular creepy man kept inching ever so slowly closer to me… I could smell the booze wafting in my direction.  When I closed my book he tried to grab it from me.  I got up and walked to another bench.  He kept staring and then started to make his way to my new bench which is when I walked over to the ticket booth to ask for help…the dude was seriously creeping me out.  It took about 5 times to explain the situation and when I looked up to point the guy out he was right there at the ticket booth.  He was promptly escorted off the premises.

So I get on the bus for a 6 1/2 hour ride up to the mountains on my way to the Dalai Lama.  The bus ride was uneventful…except for one magnificent series of moments.  I got to see the full moon rise over the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas!!!

Once in Dharamsala I found a decent guest house and almost immediately passed out.  The next day I was planning on heading to McLeod Ganj (the residence of the Tibetan Govt. in exile and the Dalai Lama) to register for the teachings, unfortunately when I awoke I was not feeling well at all.  I was bedridden for a few days with an aweful cold…so I missed the registration and have not been able to see or hear the  Dalai Lama or his teaching.   It’s a bit of a disappointment considering all I went through to get up here…but hey, I got to see the full moon rise over the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas, that in itself was worth the trouble.

I seriously think I’m allergic to air pollution.  The only other time I’ve had a bad cold in India was after spending a week in Hyderabad, another noisy, polluted city.

I’ll leave here in a couple days and head to Manikaran, another mountain town, famous for it’s healing hot springs.  Then I’ll have a couple weeks to start my journey to Nepal to spend a couple of weeks or so, renew my Indian visa and come back for more.

Ok folks, sit back, relax, and pour yourself your favorite caffeinated beverage…this is going to be a long one (not to mention long overdue as well).

Last I left off I was still in Mysore…where I remained until the 24th of January.  My days in Mysore were spent waking up at 6am to make the early morning walk to a 7am practice.  On the way there the streets would be empty and covered in a light fog…after class I would get to see the street vendors setting up their carts filled with fruits, vegetables, pots, pans and just about anything else you can imagine that can be sold from a cart.

I would return home (had a decent apartment), hose down (shower, who has a shower?) and walk up to the Mandala for a big bowl of fruit, a pot of chai and conversation.  While there a plan may formulate for the day that might involve some sort of adventure or we (the other yoga students around) would just hang out there or drift to someone’s house to do the same (hard life, I know).  Other times the day would be filled with running errands or with other classes. 

My second month in Mysore was spent with morning practice, breakfast, Thai massage class (I’m now certified in southern style…what else?), and then straight to a backbending course (I’m so close to a drop back I can taste it)  which meant that that fruit bowl had to last until dinner.

Evenings in Mysore depended on the day of the week.  Fridays usually involved a party (no class on Sat.) and Saturday nights were reserved for chantings at one of the yoga shalas.  Most other evenings were spent either eating dinner at someone’s house or at Mahesh Prasad (a fantastic cheap rest.)

It was a really nice life there but my feet started to itch and it was time to move on.  And move I did…to Hampi where I spent the past 12 days.  Mainly I was hanging out with other travellers and helping out a new friend that had the misfortune to catch malaria.

Hampi is one strange place.  It’s a toursit spot in the middle of a very small village that is sorounded by huge ass boulders and a lot of old temples.  There are 2 sides to Hampi and I stayed on the side across the river from the main town.  When I arrived there were all sorts of rumors going around that the president of India was coming for a visit so all of the tourists had to vacate the main town and the boat across the river wouldn’t be running.  These rumors persisted for days (which is why I was there for 12).  She finally arrived, stayed a few hours and left.  The only good that I could see that it did the town was that there was power for the entire day she was there (there is never power for a full day).

On one of the days that we were stuck on our side of the river I rented a scooter and spent hours driving around the rice paddies and banana trees and ended up at the Hanuman Temple for sunset.  You have to climb about 300 steps up the boulders to get there and when you do there are monkeys everywhere!  FYI, Hanuman is the monkey god, for those who do not know. 

The next day I went on the scooter again, this time with Anne (pronounced Ana, from Holland…he was the one with malaria), and we drove to the reservoir for some swimming (thanks to all of the Astanga my bathing suit bottoms no longer fit so the group of Indian men sitting on the rocks above got a nice view of my hiney as I dove into the water and the suit went to my knees…oh well, what to do?) and then back to the temple to see the sun go down.

While we were on our way to the reservoir the key fell out of the ignition.  We didn’t notice until we got there because the scooter kept running…aren’t they supposed to stop when the key is taken away?  You would think so.  Well, it didn’t stop and we kept driving.  Luckily the scooter did stop whenever we put on the breaks which meant we had to start it again in motion.  I tell ya, ya just had to be there.

I realize that I’m rambling now so I’ll end it with the fact that I am now back at the beach for a few days and then I’ll make my way north to McLeod Ganj for the Dalai Lama’s annual 10 day teachings.  Some other day I’ll tell you about the hellish night bus I took to get here, but in the meantime…

Om Shanthi