Namaste

I am finally at SECMOL and am able to sit down and write at my leisure for the first time since being here in India. I just wrote an entry to add to this blog and after 5 pages realized that there was too much for anyone to read! It’s hard when each day for the past 11 days every person, place and scent has been one I hope to never forget. I am crossing my fingers in hopes I will be able to add this blog tomorrow while in Leh (the capital) because supposedly all of Ladakh has not been able to get any connection for the past few days. The beauty is remarkable here. I hope that photographs I add will speak for themselves. We stayed at a monastery not opened to any tourists for a week in Dehradun (North of Delhi) and had class in Tibetan script (which is the same as Ladakhi script) and a class on Buddhism each day. Each day at the monastery was filled with conservations over tea in the village with monks and a local Hindi family who I bought bananas from each day. On my free time I visited the nearby village where Sunney, a young Hindi boy gave me my first introduction to the village. He showed me around a Tibetan colony where refugees lived together. No Indian government or policies are allowed in this colony; it’s strictly Tibetan. Beautiful old Tibetan women with long braided hair and smiling wrinkly faces walked around praying with prayer beads in their hands. The next day Sunney offered to show James and I a Hindu temple 15 minutes away. 15 minutes turned into 45 minutes and finally the temple came into vision at a distance situated across an entire valley. I laughed. Indians do not have a concept of time and distance like we do in the US. We weren’t able to continue because lunch was at 1. This is something I have noticed about being in India. I will be walking to Buddhism class and a monk will strike up a conservation, sit me down at a nearby food place and order tea without asking if I have to be somewhere. They take life slowly and are the most selfless people I have ever met.
Before we departed for Ladakh we stayed in Delhi for two days and visited the Taj Mahal. The 45 flight to Ladakh was unreal. The plane soared above the snowy peaks of the Himalaya mountain range. In the distance K2 was visible. When we landed at the tiny airport outside of Leh a sense of relief and peace came over me. All around us the earth is bare and in every direction snowy peaks reach toward a bright blue bird sky. We passed a few military bases. Because of the extremely high political tension between Pakistan, India and China – Ladakh has to be monitored very closely as it is situated directly between China and Kashmir. The land here is barren with dark brown sand and dust everywhere as we drove alongside the clear waters of the Indus glacial river to the school, SECMOL.
Smiling ladakhis greeted us with “Jullay!” and introduced themselves. The school is in the middle of a high altitude desert and is completely self-sustainable. It’s serene here and I’ve never been in the presence of so much laughter and singing all of the time. Ladakhis are very child-like. They don’t seem to know nastiness or cruelty. I was asked to milk one of the cows last night in order for the cooks to make curd (yogurt) for the following morning. When I told Zunzen that in the US, the horns of cows are removed from them when they are calves, her face became distressed and was distraught at the thought of such a thing. Four other Ladakhis, Morgan (a VISpa) and I brought the leftover food to the cows and as they ate, we milked them. After 10 minutes of massaging the utters with warm water trying to milk the cow, Baskeet, I finally got the hang of it. I looked at Morgan and we both just started laughing to bits. The people here are just so happy all of the time. It’s polar opposite of Delhi.
I think our first in Delhi and during our way to the bus station was definitely the biggest culture shock I have ever experienced in my entire life. I thought after watching films about poverty such as Slum Dog Millionaire and seeing poverty in Costa Rica I would be ready for what I saw. I wasn’t. It was so terrible and even now I cannot think about the things I’ve seen without tearing up. I remember leaving the station that morning. We witnessed four young boys around the age of 4-6 with two puppies just waking up in the dirt next to a broken fountain outside the station. It broke my heart. One of the students, Lydia, gave them a bag of tootsie rolls with a few rupees (India’s currency) hidden inside. The boys all shyly smiled with excitement as they investigated the bag. The bus station was busy with people sleeping outside and peeing on the sides of the road. I could tell this bus station was not a place that the average tourist would know about or feel comfortable taking alone. We were only here because of our one of a kind guide, Tashi. When we got on the bus a young woman crawled onto the bus and begged for money. She crawled up and down the bus aisle tugging people’s pants. A man with no arms then came onto the bus walking up and down begging in Hindi. I couldn’t take it for very long so I had to put my sunglasses on and turn away. As we began our journey during that first day we were all continuously shocked by everything. Within the first 5 minutes we were stuck in traffic and a group of little children approached my window and motioned for money or food. One child held a baby and one boy was walking with a monkey on a chain. I gave them 100 Rps (2 dollars) from my window and learned my lesson. They ran away and came back with at least 8 more little kids. They all motioned for food. The worst was when one of the little boys made eye contact with me. He motioned his small hand towards his beautiful dirty face and I just lost it. I had to turn my head away and just close my eyes. My stomach literally felt sickened with anger and frustration seeing how humans and animals were allowed to live like this. Your heart will tell you to give money to them. 100 Rps is like 20 dollars for a little Indian child and is barely anything to an American. In US cities like Burlington it is so easy to walk by a beggar because I have seen them walk straight into the liquor store with the money they receive. But here the children are hungry and have literally no where besides the slums on the sides of the roads to go. Giving money will never solve this poverty crisis because it just promotes children to continue living a life of begging. I learned from Tashi that many Indians come to Delhi in the hopes they will find a job and because there are just too many people and too little job opportunities, they end up sleeping on the sides of the streets and teach their children how to beg.
I really didn’t like Delhi. It’s funny how you can experience something and know in your heart that you would never want to spend more than 2 days in that place and then hours later arrive somewhere else and be able to see spending the rest of you life in that place. Last night when we were given an introduction to SECMOL by a woman named Becky I stayed in the room for a while after speaking with her and noticed a Ladakhi woman sitting in the corner near the phone. She was the same woman who went around and served us tea a little earlier. I approached her and learned that she was very good at English. Her name is Tuk Je. At first I couldn’t tell if her eyes were just especially squinted because everyone here is of Tibetan origin or if she simply couldn’t see. When she held my hand for the first time she began to stroke it and I immediately realized that she was blind. Her job here is to answer the phone and to teach the students traditional Ladakhi folk songs. I felt a sorrow and I don’t know why. Why do people feel bad for the disabled? She was one of the happiest people I’ve ever met and every time I would say something a tiny bit humorous she would just laugh and laugh. Her memory is impeccable. While Ladakhis have a difficult time learning how to pronounce our names let alone remember them, this woman was able to recognize all of the VISpas by their hands and recite our names. I learned later that there is no education for the blind in Ladakh. There is a school in Delhi but it’s far too expensive for her. I realized how fortunate the blind are in the US. There is no brail in Ladakhi! I don’t know how this kind of problem could actually ever be solved.
Ladakhi girls are very shy and generous. For example, a ladakhi would never open up a chocolate bar sitting with a group of people and not pass it around to the whole group. And the girls are very conservative about how they dress so we had to tell the VISpas to make sure their stomach or lower back never showed because it really embarrasses the Ladakhis. Norjay, the director, showed us around the campus today and we learned how this beautiful school is able to be self-sustained in terms of their food and energy. I couldn’t help but compare this place to Punta Mona in Costa Rica. In Costa Rica fruits and vegetables grew in abundance but this place is completely inhospitable for agriculture. From their traditions that have been passed down for centuries, they manage to live a very comfortable lifestyle. It’s a bit chilly and I do have to wear my mammut coat everywhere- even now in this room as I’m typing. My fingers are constantly numb! Right now the major internet connection company is down because an avalanche took out the line that runs from here to Pakistan so my internet time will be extremely limited for the next few months-I will most likely add photographs when I return back to the US.