...I squeaked...

Lack of internet has been making life difficult.

Let's see...So many wonderful things the past few days.  How to summarize them all?

The day before yesterday was the first day of the Kagyu Monlam Chenmo. Since I had a private audience with HH Karmapa the next day, after teachings I went over to get my documents photocopied.  In the photocopy shop, I ran into my friend Yiga and her parents, who are from Kham and currently living in Europe. We chatted for a bit and I asked how long they were staying.  Palden, the father, responded that they would be leaving on the 28th or 29th.

"Definitely stay until the 29th!" I said.

"Why?" they asked.

"29th morning there will be a Lingdro!" I told them. "You definitely don't want to miss it.  Even if you have a lot of work in Delhi, a Lingdro shouldn't be missed."

Palden smiled, "Oh, that's no big deal. I was a Lingdro dancer back in Tibet!"

I couldn't believe it! He saw how excited I was and started talking about Gesar, breaking into song, listing his favorite characters and so on.  I'll be interviewing him soon!

Well, I was already on cloud nine as I made my way over to the main stupa, something I do each evening.  After making my rounds and meditating a bit, I started to head over to dinner. I saw, in the line of people coming in, the silhouette of a person with a midsized bird on his shoulder. The bird was flapping as if to keep balance, but not to take off. I assumed it was a parrot of some sort, kind of strange,but not the weirdest thing I've seen. I got closer.

It was an owl. A monk with an owl on his shoulder.

I  stared in total awe and asked the monk why he had an owl on his shoulder.   He explained that the owl had been caught and he was going to release it. Meanwhile, the bird was apparently enjoying a free ride.  The monk gently picked up the bird, held him out, and let me pet him and scratch him under the chin.

I PET AN OWL.  Owls are soft.

I was bouncing. BOUNCING, the rest of the day.

Yesterday, I went to my audience with HH Karmapa.  This audience was personal and not directly related to my research (although I am hoping to speak to him in regards to that as well.)  After discussing a few different things, I openly asked "Do you have any practice advice for me?"

"Can you read Tibetan?" He asked me.

"I can." I replied, then hastily added "I can't UNDERSTAND it all though."

He had already started walking away to get something "Don't worry. I don't understand it all either sometimes!  Here!"  He turned back and autographed a book and handed it to me "History of the Gesar Dances."

With pictures.

I squeaked.  I couldn't help it. HH looked at me oddly. 

"Sorry!  Excited!!!"  I bounced a little bit too.

HH is helping me with my homework. YAYYYYYYYY. (And cracking joked about Tibetan ability so as to not make me feel like an idiot. Also yay.)

Denma's Great Grandson

Bodh Gaya is located in the state of Bihar, the poorest state in India. Bihar's facilities reflect this in all aspects.  As a result, my internet works rarely, if at all.

Right now, I seem to have functional internet, but we'll see if it lasts.

I've continued conducting interviews and hearing lots of fascinating stories, but to know all the details you'll have to read my paper.  However, today I got a special opportunity.

While I was doing interviews at Sarah College, a friend informed me that one of our mutual friends is from the lineage of Denma, one of Gesar's main generals.  Not only that but "Drakpa" was in Bodh Gaya!  It took a few days to finally get in touch with him, because as a market seller, he was running a lot of errands.  We sat down and talked for quite a while, what gesar meant to him, to his family. What it meant to be the great, great, great, great, great grandson of Denma.  Even the question of did he believe in the Gesar story.  It was a long and complex interview. I'm very glad I recorded it, because I will have to listen to it several times to truly understand it.

Whether or not he believes the entire grand epic of Gesar, he does strongly identify with the lineage of Denma. Even his chat screen name is DenTruk Drakpa meaning "Drakpa, son of Denma"

Kagyu Monlam is starting tomorrow, so things should start to get a bit more interesting.  Meanwhile, I'll talk about a few other Bodh Gaya experiences.

First of all, you KNOW you've been here too long when the guys hawking dust masks know you by the bastardized Tibetan form of your name (amala.)

And I got a marriage proposal today. I was waiting outside the stupa (blocked off because the Thai and Lao prime ministers were visiting) when a middle aged Khampa man came up to me and said "Oh! You are 'Choedak Tsering's' friend?  I am his dad!"  I was happy because I hadn't spoken to Choedak since I left Dharamsala.  I asked where he was and we got to talking.  The father was happy enough to give me his son's phone number. Later, I ran into him again on the road, which was good as I'd made a mistake copying down the number.  He gave it to me again and asked "Where is your husband?"

"I don't have a husband" I responded, "I'm unmarried."

"Oh good! You can be our namma (bride/daughter in law)"

I choked. Nope. He was not joking. He then went on about how his son liked me and had told them ALLLLL about me, but was too shy to tell me and...and...and...and.

At this point, the mother came in to join the conversation.

I managed to extract myself from the situation, but I get the feeling they're still hopeful.

The rest of my day consisted of conducting interviews while avoiding that section of the market.

Tomorrow starts the Kagyu Monlam Chenmo!!!

On to Bodh Gaya

Yesterday, at 12:10 AM, I got in a car with a friend from IBD and we started making our way down to Delhi.  It was definitely an interesting ride, as we got stopped at 7 police checkpoints, where our passports and visas were checked.  I'm hearing that it has something to do with local elections, but I don't really know.

From Delhi, I boarded a plane to Gaya.  Being that we're in India, we got on the plane and then waited an hour and a half before take off.  I had the good fortune to be seated next to an extraordinarily racist, judgmental asshole who would not shut up.  I eventually told him that I needed to sleep (true), because every other attempt to get him to stop talking to me about how ever other race had horrible habits seemed to fail.  Charming.

Once in Gaya, I was picked up and brought to my hotel in Bodh Gaya.  It's a brand new hotel and I was very happily surprised to find that this place, under budget, was outfitted with the most comfortable beds I've ever slept on in India (outside of The Grand in Delhi) and a bathtub. An honest to god bathtub.  I took a LOOONG shower and then my friend Tashi picked me up and we went out for Bhutanese food.  America needs Bhutanese food.

This morning I made up for the all night car ride by sleeping until noon.  I then went to Tergar monastery, where most of the Kagyu Monlam festivities will be held.  After lunch I made my way over to the main stupa to make offerings on behalf of some friends.  While walking along, a gaggle of teenage girls were commenting in Tibetan on my dress, so I thanked them in Tibetan, which broke the ice. It turned out they were from Suja School, here to attend HH Karmapa's teachings.  They were also all from different regions of Kham.  After a bit of social chatting, I asked if I could interview them.  At 17-18 years old, they've been my youngest interviewees.  It was really interesting to see their point of view.  My favorite question and answer:

Me:  To the best of your knowledge, where was King Gesar born?
All: Dege! He was born in Dege!
Me: Why do you say that?
All:  Because Kunga sings that song, "Phayul Dege" and in the song it says "Dege is my fatherland and it is the birthplace of Joru, King Gesar!"

Yep.  That was the main reason.  Well done, Kunga.  You should be proud.

After I went back to Tergar, I also interviewed a lama in his late thirties.  This interview was amazing and went on quite a while.  He was from Yushu and in his hometown, he says there were many people who would go to the mountains and fall asleep and wake up able to recite the Epic.  These people are illiterate and didn't even know what they were reciting until they asked a more literate person, who would pull out the Gesar books. Others, he said, would meditate in a manner similar to the oracles, then fall into a trance and start reciting and acting out the epic. They would be completely oblivious to the world around them, not even hearing questions adressed to them.  They would swing their arms, like fighting with swords, and be completely lost in the epic.

People are taking turns borrowing my books and singing the drung.  It's so much fun to hear people's stories. But by far my favorite part of all this is how excited the interviewees get.  No one seems to really care about Gesar in exile, so for many of them, it's their only chance to tell these stories and talk about it.  Their excitement is contagious and I've been smiling like a madwoman all day. 

Gesar on the Street

I've been conducting interviews for the past several days in Dharamsala.  I've had the good fortune to speak to people from all different walks of life and regions of Tibet, especially from different parts of Kham and Amdo.

A couple of days ago, I went down to where the Dege and Markham women (two regions of Kham) sell, jewelry and knit goods along Temple Road.  There are no formal stores, just stalls along the side of the road, made of rickety tables, bamboo framework and usually a tarp to protect against the rain.

The interview was memorable.  Initially I asked if I could talk to them about their hometown culture, and Gesar of Ling, and they told me that they had nothing to say and didn't know enough. Eventually,  one woman, the oldest in the group, volunteered to share her experiences and memories.  As the questions turned to the significance of King Gesar, the other women started shouting their own answers, correcting the interviewee, or giving their own opinion.  The interview soon became a free-for-all of opinions and stories.  I was so happy that I was recording it all as an mp3 instead of just trying to take notes.  Finally, they expressed their sadness that they couldn't get books of Gesar here in India.  I told them that I had brought some with me, an they made me promise to bring them down.

Today, despite the threat of rain, I brought my books down temple road.  As rain started to spot the street, I huddled under a tarp with a young woman from Markham and one of the older women from Dege, the others were tending to their shops.  I pulled out my books and they began to flip through.  Before long, we were opening the books to different pages, trying to find "good" drung (songs sung by characters with admirable qualities) to sing.  One of us would start, and the rest of us would join in on the melody.

Tibetans from Tibet, walking down the busy road, stopped in their tracks when they heard the Gesar melodies. Many spent a few minutes listening to us, oblivious to the cars zooming mere centimeters behind them.  Some smiled.  Many just stared with a look of shock and longing.

After about an hour, the cold and rain were getting to us.  We got cups of tea and sat talking. The girl from Markham told me how she used to do this in her hometown, but no one sang the drung here,  and how it made her miss her fatherland.

As my friend and I walked back to my hotel, a few Tibetans stopped us to ask me to sing one more drung, even if it was only a few lines.  We finally extricated ourselves and started to rush up the road to get out of the rain, and couldn't believe our ears: behind us, all different shop keepers were humming and singing the drung in all the different melodies they knew. 

Changing India (IMPORTANT NOTES FOR UPCOMING INDIA TRAVELLERS)

After an overall pleasant couple of flights (Emirates is a great airline) and a grueling 9 hour car ride, I arrived in McLeod Ganj, my base of operations for the next five days.  My number one priority, after lunch, was to get a phone number and internet.

India has always been strict on getting pre-paid sim cards. I had my passport available for photocopy, I had multiple passport sized photographs, and an unlocked phone to put my sim card into.  However, when I got to the store I found out that there are new regulations.

As of 2 months ago, all documents must be approved prior to activation. This means that you will have to wait 5 days for a telephone sim card and 2-3 for a USB mobile internet card.  As someone only in Dhasa for 5 days and needing new ones upon arrival in Bodh Gaya, this was a huge issue.

SO: NOTE TO TRAVELLERS: If you are planning to come to India and have a short time only, have a friend get you your sim card in advance.

Fortunately, my friend Tashi had a spare sim card, which he gave to me. At the moment, for internet I am using my cell phone plugged into my computer and turned on as a mobile hot spot.  It's a pain in the rear, but it works.

Anyway, on to fun stuff. Because of how late I found out I was going to India, no one really knew I was coming. I'm getting a lot of hilarious double takes.

Last night, before jetlag did me in, I was able to conduct one good interview, and I'm looking forward to conducting minimum three interviews today. We'll see if that happens!

Sitting in the airport

I'm here in SeaTac, waiting to get on my flight, a long one to Dubai.

The last few days have been final preparations for this trip. I thought I would post them here so that other people can use this as a guide.

Obviously, I had to buy things that I was missing, but there are a lot of other small things I had to take care of.

My house is currently a total mess and immaculately clean.  It may seem like a contradiction but it's not.  What I mean is that there is stuff everywhere. The house is very disorganized. However, everything is clean.

I did my last load of laundry yesterday. I threw my sheets in as well. This guaranteed first of all that not even a single pair of socks was waiting in the laundry bin for 4 weeks, but also means that I have nice, clean sheets waiting for me when I get home a month from now.  It's one more thing I don't need to worry about.

Last night I emptied all perishable items from the fridge.  I washed every dish.  Even cups that just had some water in them had to be cleaned. You'd be surprised where stuff can grow.

I took out all the garbage and compost, cleaned out the sinks, bathtub and toilet.  Last thing I want is to find some trace of bacteria has decided to take my one month away as a time to grow and take over my house.

So my apartment is currently immaculately clean.

It also looks like it's been hit by a tornado.  There is stuff EVERYWHERE. Because I really only had one half day to prepare (up until yesterday I had classes and yesterday I had a final, yesterday evening my students had a recital), I used every flat surface as a packing and organizing space. I carefully organized what I needed and where. Valuables, prescription medications and technology in carry on and virtually everything else in checked luggage.

I backed up my computer, charged my camera, found all of my chargers, and made sure that "Pokemon" was in  my gameboy (don't judge me.)

My brother and neighbors each have a spare key.  Everything in my apartment that can be turned off has been turned off.

I'm ready to go!

So now I'm in the airport waiting area. We should be boarding in about 10 minutes. The flight is overbooked, but I got on.  There are LOTS of children on the flight, so I'm happy that I brought ear plugs.  I have a research book and highlighters....I'm not sure if can mark my books. It makes a part of me feel like it's died.  As a friend reminded me, if the book is THAT special, I can buy another copy in the future.

A hotel room is booked for me in Dharamsala and a car is waiting to pick me up in Delhi.

From now on it will be less about organizing the trip and more about the actual research! I'm excited but I hope that these posts have been somewhat helpful for people who want to do a major trip.

Wish me luck...

Safety is in the Eye of the Beholder

In six days, I fly out to New Delhi.

Today, shots were fired at the university bookstore.


You might wonder why I would say those two things, one after the other, but it provides a perfect example of something that has been on my mind for years.  Any time I tell people that I am travelling to India, the most common response is "Aren't you scared for your safety?  Aren't you worried about your health?"  Yeah.  I am. Sometimes.

But most of the time I am not.

It's not that India is particularly safe.  It's not.  In fact, a lot of my preparations prior to travel are in regards to my safety.  Today, for example, I received my supply of medications for the trip, including my emergency asthma inhaler which I rarely ever use in the USA but refuse to go to Bodh Gaya without.  I spoke to my family regarding health insurance and if I need emergency trip insurance.  I bought a mosquito net and high-deet bug repellent to ward of mosquitos, carriers of malaria and dengue fever.  I found where I keep my spare iodine tablets.  I looked up the number of the US embassy in Delhi, and will be sending that to my family along with my itinerary.

India is not particularly safe.  Neither is America.

In India, I've had dysentery multiple times. It is a disease that kills people if left untreated or if it attacks the young, elderly, or otherwise compromised.  In America, I've had the flu, and the country is preparing for an especially early and vicious flu season.  It is a disease that kills people every year in America, especially the young, elderly, or otherwise compromised.  I've never been taken by ambulance, on a stretcher, to the hospital due to any disease in India.  I've seen my father taken in to the hospital in just that manner with a very bad case of the flu.

The worst injuries I've seen among people I know have all taken place in one country and one context: skiing in the USA.  I have one friend who broke most of the bones in her face.  Even more tragically, a schoolmate of mine, dearly beloved by her classmates, was killed in a skiing accident just a few weeks ago.

But the flu, skiing, a car accident on the freeway: these are all dangers we are accustomed to.  It's not that India is more dangerous than America, it's that when we go to a foreign country, for the first time we are forced to face new fears.  I am accustomed to the flu and so I don't fear it, even though it could kill me.  But needing to fear my own drinking water, that's new and so it's scary.

In America, I don't generally need to worry about the police, but a school shooting is a real threat.  In India, it's the opposite.  No more, no less.

Today, shots were fired at the university bookstore.  Fortunately, no one was injured and the police chased and caught the suspect.  But it happened.