11 March, 2004

After trying to eat my breakfast, I feel terrible and really concerned - I wondered if I'd gotten food poisoning or something close to it.  I slept until about noon (from 8:30) in fits and starts - stomach aching, popping Pepto-Bismol and generally feeling sicker than I have in a while.  Around noon I woke and felt like I needed to go down to the teachings so I pulled myself together and headed out.  In retrospect I understand this was probably my body recovering from the hike and altitude effects, and maybe a little de-hydration, but in the moment it certainly felt like food poisoning.

I'd already decided not to go into the teachings proper (to avoid the crushing of the crowds), but to sit outside in the shade somewhere and listen there so I could move around if I wanted to.  I sat down on the grass and settled in, only to find I couldn't get reception, so I moved further down the terrace I was sitting in.  Wandering about I found some semblance of a signal and again settled in.  For about 45 minutes I sat there and tried to get the station clearly, finally I accomplished this by using two radios - one as an antenna multiplier.

While I was sitting there a cow wandered down the steps and amongst us - looking here and there - before heading down the next stairs.  It was sort of disconcerting - we're all sitting and this, what - 1000 pound? cow with long pointy horns to boot, comes meandering through us.

Finally the broadcast worked, just in time to find out we were reading the Hell Realms chapter (the one chapter out of Patrul Rinpoche’s book I can't abide by) - so I packed up and left.

The rest of the day I tried to download pictures from my camera and send them (unsuccessfully, the internet connection here at times leaves a lot to be desired), and wandered the streets.  I was looking for some spare cloth to mend the hole that's appeared in my blue jeans' knees.  I did find a tailor that will fix them - but I have to wait for my other pair to come out of the laundry tomorrow first.  I couldn't find any new pants that I wanted to buy.

Then I got Mustafa'd.  Mustafa is a Kashmiri vendor who is down for the first part of the teachings before heading back to his village.  He's got a tremendous assortment of carpets that have been made in his village and travels to large gatherings to sell them in a cooperative manner.  I'd been in his shop two days ago with another of the group on our way to dinner (she was buying a runner for her mother) and he'd shown some wonderful carpets to us -   one of which I wanted for a wall hanging (these really are too good to put on the floor with cats).

Long story, but he's packing up today and wanted me to come back in.  So a little while later and some not too intensive bargaining, I bought an exquisite 3 1/2  x 5 foot hand woven silk rug off him and arranged to have it shipped home.  It should get there in a couple of weeks.  My thought is to hang it in the entry hall as a wall hanging - I think its gold hues will go well with the blue.

After this I went up to the hotel to read a bit and recover, and then off to dinner.  At dinner I was appalled to see the kitchen staff (washing dishes) were kids no older than my 10 year old daughter Camille, exhaustedly wiping the dishes I was about to eat off - I won't be eating there again (the Snow Lion), but something tells me that this is common practice.  It seriously took away from the dining experience.

So some slices of life from the day -

Beggars

They're everywhere - twisted, deformed, bandaged, filthy, pitiful, legless, crying out "money money" as I walk by.  Most of these I've grown inured to, however the most pitiful are the women with their children in tow - they haven't bathed in days.  If you give a rupee to one of them they all surround you - and they're tenacious - one followed me up the hill for a quarter mile (money money).

Latter a young boy (again about Camille's age) came up to me asking if I needed something repaired (I've seen him repairing shoes - he's repaired two of my company's shoes already).  However I'm wearing my Tevas that don't need any fixing, so I told him no.  He asks me a series of questions (You from America?  From where?  First time in India?  How long?) repeating the questions as if I haven't answered them.   Finally he gets to the point – “you buy me milk?  Please, very hungry, sisters very hungry.”  Lonely Planet has called this one out as a genuine scam - you buy the milk and they then sell it back to the vendor - I move on feeling vaguely uncomfortable after telling him no once again.

Food

So the food here is tremendous - I'm trying to eat Tibetan as often as possible.  They have marvelous soups - Thangtup (I believe) is a chopped noodle soup with all sorts of vegetables in it.  You put hot peppers in it and have a fire pot of sorts.  Lots of curds (yoghurt) with honey and fruit, tsampa for breakfast (roasted barley that's cooked into a sort of paste - basically a cream of wheat styled from barley).

We've eaten Indian twice up here at the Ashoka Restaurant (named after the famous Indian warlord Ashok who unified much of India in a series of bloody conquests, only to convert to Buddhism and renounce his thrown and all it entailed).  The dhal is one I've never had before - pinto beans with black lentils.  (Makhani dhal)