Anyway the Wind Blows

I realize tonight that I’m leaving in a very few weeks and am not feeling ready. But then again I get spouts of joy on some days when I think about taking a walk in the streets of my beautiful Quebec, waving and saying hi to all the people I know and cross in the street, or sitting by the fire-stove in my mom's beautiful old house with the smell of onions frying in butter enveloping me. I don’t know, I’m confused. Last week I felt I was ready to go when early May would arrive, but now I’m feeling a lump in my throat every time I think about it. I guess its inevitable, I am to feel like this at one point or another. I’ve always been one to reminisce easily, and I’ve tried to learn to control the negative aspect of that here, and I do think I’m better at it. But I also think being a reminiscent kind of person is a wonderful thing. I feel much love and affection for people, animals, moments, times and places that I encounter in my life, and I like being like that. It makes your spectrum of feeling much broader, and therefor your experiences more fulfilling, if you're able to grasp something new and changing. The difficult side of it can also feel like a positive thing if you decide to. It does make me feel stronger after i've been through it. Sometimes you can't see it while it's happening, but when looking back, it's so clear. Sometimes life is like a constant session of kicking yourself in the ass. My reflexes have changed a bit. It just makes me determined to come back, rather than cry on and be sad. Don’t get me wrong, I am sad, and I will cry, but I can grasp myself a bit more now, and start thinking clearer sooner. Life is full of obstacles, and depending on what you decide to live and go through, those obstacles will vary in size, life will offer certain obstacles to some people that others wouldn’t be able to bear. Or sometimes you can at one point bear obstacles that you yourself wouldn’t have been able to bear before. As my life moves, I find myself being able to tolerate more, and ready to take on more. Its not always easy, and sometimes I wonder if I don’t push myself a little much, but then I realize that no, I love what I live, and really, I haven’t even begun to push myself compared to what others are forcibly pushed to. I think I have it easy even when I strip myself of most of my little comforts. I wouldn’t DARE complain after meeting certain people, how snob and petty and selfish of me it would be. I just hate missing people. I’m a very affectionate person, and become very close to the people that are dear to me. But its inevitable as life moves on as there are those people everywhere, scattered all over this world like specks of sand, and the wind will always scatter all of them to different places. We have to learn to miss people healthily, and hope the wind blows us in the same direction eventually...

J'arrive chere lune

Ca fait dix jours que je n'ai rien ecrit. On dirait des fois qu'il ne se passe rien a l'interieur de moi qui vaille la peine d'ecrire. C'est surement faux, c'est surement juste que je suis devenu soudainement paresseuse ici. Je n'sais plus. Aujourd'hui, il fait super beau dehors, gros soleil, pas trop chaud, petite brise bien tiede, mais je suis d'un humeur de chien. J'ai ete malade dernierement et aujourd'hui je vais vraiment beaucoup mieux, alors pourquoi je suis comme ca? Tout me tappe sur les nerfs, je suis hyper impatiente, je trouve tout le monde stupide (et s'il y a bien une chose qui m'enerve, c'est la stupiditee!), je prends tout personel, je veut la paix, mais en meme temps je ne suis pas sur de vouloir etre seule... Meme Kunga me tappe royalement aujourd'hui. Le fait que la communication est limite par la langue peut etre tres fatiguant sur le cerveau a la longue. Les choses simples doivent etre repete maintes fois, et meme la : -"we are leaving Sunday" -"Ah? you are leaving sunday? " -"yes" -"ok, so tomorrow you don't go?" -"no, I just said we are leaving sunday." "Ah?"... Calis! I'm used to this, and my patience is normally sharp. I don't know whats with me. Aujourd'hui, j'ai hate d'etre rentre. J'ai hate d'etre avec ma copine favorite, Milena. J'ai tellement hate de te voir et de te parler, qu'on placotte et qu'on s'interompe mutuellement parce qu'on a trop de choses a se dire, autour d'un bon repas et une bonne bouteille (j'ai des p'tits cadeaux pour toi que j'ai bien hate de te remettre). J'ai hate de voir John et qu'on se fasse des soiree cinema en pyj avec plein de bouffe meme si on a pas faim, just manger pour le plaisir du bon gout, etre parreseux parce que c'est facile, et ecouter des bons films parce-que ca fait 12 fois que j'ecoute "The 7 Year Itch" et "Saraband", je connais meme les 2 premiers episodes de ROME par coeur. Get some Chaplin on roll please. Bien sur maman, j'ai tres hate de te voir , pour toutes les raisons evidente.

Dharamsala

I've been in Dharamsala for over a week now. Today is a beautiful sunny day with crisp fresh air but warm rays. Kunga left for Delhi a couple days ago, trying to find a way to book an airplane ticket without actually buying it, we may have found a contact... There are big protests here everyday and the people are extremely dedicated. I'm taking traditional Tibetan painting lessons with Tashi, one of Kunga's cousins who is an AMAZING artist. He paints tankas, buddhist paintings sown in silk frames. He studied for years with the Dalai Lama's official painter, so you can imagine. Apart from painting, we are also very dedicated to informing people about what is going on in Tibet, or with the Olympics, etc. Dozens of people were shot by Chinese army again in a small village in Kham the day before yesterday. Tashi is a very active guy in the cause, and as soon as something happens, he gets calls, and he takes care of writing bills, posting them distributing them, and sending them off to Delhi, the south and other parts of India. So I decided to help him out, sometimes the papers come back with awful translations, they need major cleaning up, so thats easy. Also, I don't know if people know this, but Coca-Cola is huge among the Tibetans, they consume alot of it, you can often see the monks lined up outside after a long puja, bottle in hand... Now, Coca-Cola is one of the major sponsors of the Olympics, and the Tibetans don't know this. So they are unknowingly sponsoring something they are protesting against. I try to inform restaurant managers and shop keepers when I notice Coca-Cola has exclusivity in their shops, but its not enough. So when I told Tashi and asked him to call the paper here to inform them, he also suggested we make a bill. So we went to the internet, looked up all the sponsors, and listed them and their logos along with a short note explainig peoples responsibility in the sponsorship. Lets hope we see real action and boycott of these products, especially the very addictive Coca-Cola. I think people will really check what they consume, this is so important to them. I have a painting lesson to go to now, and a protest to attend later. I'll post pics soon.

Glow

One of the most amazing things happened to me yesterday...

I was in Delhi, Kunga and I had arrived a couple of days before. And the eve of yesterday, we found out that His Holiness the Dalai Lama was going to be making an appearance in some garden in Delhi the next morning. We didn't have too many details, everyone is very cautious not to give too many details about his public appearance schedule, due to the obvious danger he runs. So we set out to get up at 5am in order to make it to the garden by 6. You don't wanna get there much later because there are just too many people who want to catch a glimpse of him. I've been sick for the last week and on the road, therefore haven't been getting much sleep, when I need it more than ever. So getting up at 5 was a struggle, but there was no way I was being lazy and staying in bed when His Holiness is here, especially in the circumstances that surround his cause and people right now. I wake up, then wake up Tashi (we are with him in Delhi, he lives here now), then Sonam and the other boys. Kunga won't wake up. Last night he said he was coming, but this morning theres just no getting him up. He's gonna miss the Dalai Lama and doesn't even seem to care. I can't believe it! I'm even pissed! I know I shouldn't, its none of my business really, live and let live, right? But I can't help it. I'm pissed. Anyways, We head out.

Now, there is something I just love about waking up real early, the day seems crisp and clear, and you have all this time ahead of you, it feels like you own it, it belongs to you, none of it is taken away. My mind feels sharper too (go figure). We find a rikshaw, who rips us off a little less than the others, and arrive at the garden. The place is beautiful. Its a huge piece of land covered in grass, with all kinds of trees and flowers. The grounds are very well kept and there is no trash to be seen laying around anywhere, an extremely rare sight in India, especially in such a big city. In the center of the garden is a kind of old fort, walls with gates resembling our beautiful old stone walls in Quebec City. Inside these walls are more beautiful Asian-like trees. It almost looks like a Japanese garden. We wait outside the walls in 2 single lines. We have at least an hour to wait before they let us in. Its beautiful to see, women and men alike carry bunches of flowers. Some little children have hand picked little bouquets themselves. Old men hold their small grandchildren proudly by the hand, having dressed them up in their finest silk dresses. There are so many colors, everyone is smiling. I'm standing near the beginning of the line, and at one point I look behind me, and the line has gotten so long that it just melts away in the horizon. What an impressive sight! As we wait, thunder and lightening start to swell up the sky. It starts to rain. Its quite cold at this time of the morning in Delhi, especially when you're wet. But of course, a little rain won't make us budge.

7am sharp. They let us in. By now the rain has stopped and theres a beautiful golden morning glow lighting the entire garden. There's some kind of setting in the center of the place, so we try to sit somewhat near to it. Immediately as I sit down, a ladybug lands on my knee. Right away I think of luck. She stays there for quite some time, and when Tashi notices it, he tells me, "you have good luck today". Cute! Of course, I don't believe in that stuff, but it is a nice way of bringing forth positive thoughts,so why not. I scope out the place with my eyes and try to figure where would be the best place to sit. I don't think I'm in it, I need to change places. Now, I know that as a foreigner, you sometimes have seating priveledges over the Tibetans; they figure that if you've come from so far away, you should get a better spot. Its not like this for all events, but here I think I can spot a carpeted area where there seems to only be foreigners, there are not that many, but they are all together. In the front are western Buddhist monks, and behind them a few normal civilians. I get up and tell the boys I will try to get closer, they can't come because security won't let them sit there. I make my way over to a security agent, I want to ask him if I need a special pass to sit there, I get close to him, and I haven't even opened my mouth yet when he says "please madam, you may sit over there" pointing to the exact place I wanted to go. I sit, and have a really good spot, really good. I'm on the edge and I can see where the Dalai Lama will sit, just 3 or 4 meters from me. Wow! I was never so close last times I saw him. Everyone sits on the ground, His Holiness included. In the front row where he will be seated, there are holy men of all kinds of religions. And this is what this event is, a huge universal morning prayer of all the major religions here, come together. Buddhists, Hindus, Swamis, Muslims, Jains, Sikhs, Christians etc. All of these men greet each other with love and respect, you can see they are all sincere, and they also have all come here together to give a special warm greeting of solidarity to the Dalai Lama. They want to let him know he has their unconditional respect, admiration, love and support. Its an incredibly powerful image to look at. All of a sudden, theres a bit of commotion and everyone rises to his feet; he is coming. The guards shout to everyone to sit down, and eventually we do. I can see him very well and even get some good photos. He comes to the front and sits down. He and the Hindu priest get up together and head over to a huge water bowl, where they scatter flower petals on the delicate suface of the morning water. There are journalists and cameras everywhere, but somehow it remains relatively quiet. Each priest and priestess in turn starts calling out the morning prayer of his or her faith, starting with the Tibetan Buddhists of course. Its very touching.

As the prayers are finished, the Dalai Lama gets up. I also get up and make my way over to the end of the path where he will be exiting, along with alot of other people. I am right on the edge of the path, and though this is not really my style, something makes me prostrate myself on the ground before his feet. As he approaches, theres chaos and too many people trying to get close to him, all his security making a closed circle around him, cameramen pushing to get a closeup shot... I can see all this from where I am, but I'm somewhat unaffected by it since I'm on my knees , crouched in a little "bonhomme". A cameragirl even trips over me and falls to the ground, where others follow, but I'm still there, and when His Holiness sees this, he seems to think I am about to get hurt on the ground, but its probably the safest place I can be. As he's next to me and this happens, he says "oh" and gestures with his hand as if to say, "please get up, its not worth getting hurt", and keeps walking. Security won't let anyone in further as he enters the gate. Now this all happened very fast, but to the left of the gate, was another entrance where none seemed to be going. I didn't think at all, I just acted on an instinct and went in. Once inside, I was standing next to a chair and table. His Holiness then shows up in front of me with still a few chaotic people following and all his security, he's headed towards the chair and table where I'm standing. He sits, right next to me! and starts writing in a book. Somehow it takes a moment before security circles in front of me, they started by circling behind me. I take a bunch of pictures while I'm in there. Now when I'm outside the security circle, this one Tibetan girl is making a scene to get closer to him, this of course is probably the best way to get farther from him, so I try to stay away from her, which is easy, because at this point there are not that many people. Only a few hectic cameramen, some government officials, security, that girl and me. So I play it cool, don't push security, and smile at them, letting them know I am just very glad to have the opportunity to see him. They can detect my vibe and are actually pretty cool with me. This one Indian man standing behind me, who I guess works for his security kind of warns me, "madam, please back away". "Please" I tell him, " I just want to see him, I'm not pushing I just want to see" At this point I'm overwhelmed with emotion, my eyes are filled with tears and my smile is beaming. He also catches my vibe and looks at me as if saying " ok, its cool, go ahead". His Holiness at this point has gotten up and is walking out. His security agents form a kind of fence on either side of him by holding hands. I follow for a few meters thinking that if only he got a glimpse of the love flowing out of me at that moment, he might acknowledge my presence, and I may be able to salute him. I felt myself so much. I knew I could make my presence be felt. I just knew it. You know when you look at someone so deeply that they can feel your gaze? They can't help but look at you then, that's the mysterious power of a look. I don't know what causes that, but its a veritable phenomenon which we've all experienced. I just looked at him and loved him so much. How could he not feel it? It was impossible that he not feel it. Then, it happened. He caught a glimpse of me real fast and must've noticed the tears streaming down my face as well as the lovingest smile I'd ever given, I couldn't control it, he had this effect on me. He then stopped walking, turned his body and gaze towards me, looked me dead in the eye, put his hands together, and bowed his head at me. I bowed back as my hands were already together ( I was holding a white Kada under my thumbs) and we saluted each other, our foreheads almost touching. Everything stopped, I was flabergasted. I felt like I was in a fog. Except for that small clear space between he and I, everything else around me was blurry and sounded numb. I was happy. I was ready to go as I had gotten my fair share. As I turned on my heels to make my way over to Tashi and the others to tell them what had happened, the Indian security man who had been behind me earlier saw this all go down. He says to me, smiling, kind of matter-of-factly "So, how does it feel?" All I could answer him with was my happiest glowing smile, it said everything. I felt high. literally. I felt like my chest was touching the clouds...

Stop, Look and Listen

China Cover up Fails:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=K7VfU_arxto

Interview with Dalai Lama on march 16:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=ObCigAg-Tjk

Dalai Lama's Response to Beijing's Accusations:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=v0NLwjVvSwE

March On

I’m meeting Kunga and we are going up to Dharamsala, home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. We’ve been planning on going for a while, and the time has finally come. This timing couldn’t be more perfect too, with all that’s going on in Tibet right now, I feel I need to be back with the Tibetans, especially Kunga I suppose, at least that’s what I want. I feel like I’m wandering around purposelessly right now… As I get closer to the camp, I see more and more Tibetans, scattered at first, but more concentrated as I get closer. Like slowly walking into the ocean, at first only the soles of your feet are wet, then your feet are covered up to the ankles, and every step you take covers you a little more until you are bathing. There is more red in my field of vision. Monks and lay-people are gathering. I’m in Bangalore right now and you can tell there’s a huge protest somewhere here today. As I approach the rickshaw stand, there’s a Tibetan woman speaking to her driver. You can see she probably hasn’t slept properly in nights. She looks tired and emotional, tears welling up in her eyes as she knows she’s approaching the march of her people. Who knows who from her friends and family are in Tibet right now, and she’s worried, sad, frightened and frustrated at the violence and her powerlessness to defend or soothe the ones she loves so much. I think the worst part of all is this feeling of helplessness amongst the people. They are patient and are gathering and marching peacefully, but that’s all they can do. Its very painful to see such a big bully beating up your culture, language, spirituality, architecture, environment, forests, animals, natural resources, humiliating and torturing you and your loved ones (all of this both physically and figuratively), while others watch and say nothing, or just say “you shouldn’t do that, it’s not right”, but give no consequences. Who will hold hands and walk with them? Proudly! If 1 country jumps in, maybe it’ll be easier for others to follow along.

You know, I feel a little scattered in my thoughts right now because there’s too much going on in there. Everyone is crying inside. It’s very hard to control. Kunga asks me “pleeeeaase Zita, you must use your control. I also want cry tooooo much, very difficult. But if I cry, maybe I become crazy”. He has his family there, his pride, culture, heart and love. I can’t imagine how he can control himself. I try to listen to him and control myself. I find myself a little selfish when I let myself go, it’s so much easier to just cry and wail. But I can’t put this extra on him. If he sees me cry, he really has trouble containing himself. He cried twice 2 days ago. It was just too much. They are having these meetings at night in the monasteries, all the monks, and some laypeople too, all together, hundreds and hundreds of people. It’s very quiet in there; you’d never know there were so many people if it wasn’t for the energy. They watch the news in silence and concentration, news from all over the world. Sometimes the news is in English, so Kunga is overwhelmed by demands of translation, which he can’t really give. The images are too difficult for some and you’ll hear a whimper every now and then. Everyone is sniffling. There is a long silence followed by the news, everyone is speechless. You can see sadness in everyone. But the elders are the saddest. They have grown up in a free Tibet, and know what’s it’s like. They’ve seen the degeneration from the beginning. Like a razor blade, poked deeply into the flesh at the ankle, and slooooowly slicing its way up the body to the head and back down again. They’ve watched it happen from the poke. They then discuss the situation seriously. They will pray together every night in the temple. Puja every day. But some stand up, a little tired of only praying. “Nothings gonna happen by just sitting here and praying, sure we can pray, but we also need to stand together and send a message!” Everyone agrees, its true you know. Who will hold hands and walk with them? Proudly! I WILL!!!

...To be continued...

Its a little difficult for me to post anything right now, but I will definitely post something tomorrow. I know people are wondering about me because of the current situation in Tibet. I am safe. Everyone here is terribly heartbroken, sad, frustrated, but also very strong, brave and courageous. One of the monks stood up in a meeting in the monastery last night and and walked out announcing he was going to Tibet, walking across the mountains and border. He is ready to die. This is not some movie type heroic-looking bullshit, this is real and everyone knows it. He cannot just sit and pray, he needs to stand up and walk with his brothers and sisters in order for something to happen. He's right you know, the more numerous the people stand up all over the world, the more the rest of the world is looking, the harder it is to hide and silence and stand by doing nothing. When he decided to go, twelve other monks stood up and said "you know what, you're right - we're going with you." The older monks could only admire the youths in extreme sadness with lumps in their throats, watching them walk out strong willed, strong minded and calm in their determined passion. No one can stop them, and they know this may cost lives, but for a reason...

P.S.

I'm not in the Tibetan camp right now. I'm getting messages from people who don't seem to know this. So to recap : I left about a week ago, and will return in about a week. To know what happened, read a few stories lower...

Headin' off

Ok, I got my bandage off yesterday evening, and my eye feels much better. I'm still to medicate it for 5 days, so my vision is a little off, but at least I can see, and there was no infection. I will try to leave today, I need bus and train info, and want to go to the backwaters, a system of canals, where small boats are the main source of transportation, must be beautiul (lets just hope its not too polluted). I don't think I'll stay there too long, just enough to take it in, and then I want to head up to Munar, the hills here in Kerala, its supposed to be really beautiful, with vast tea plantations, and a breathtaking bus drive along the hills to the top. I do love the hills and mountains, its usully so peaceful. Right now, I'm going to take advantage of this touristy place, and go and have myself a pizza, my last one for a while probably. So, bonne appetit to me...

Varkala, Kerala, south India. I'm extremely bored! I don't like this place, it's very touristy, only shops and restaurants, all aligned. Thing is, I can't really leave right now. I woke up with an abrasion on my eyeball, very painfull and uncomfortable. So I have a huge bandage on my eye, and 3 different kinds of ointments I must put in there at various times of the day. I have to go back and see the eye doctor tomorrow afternoon so I can't leave right away. But believe me, as soon as this patch comes off, I'm fucking off too! I'm totally uninspired right now...

Luggage Lapsus

I'm now in Bangalore, big busy Bangalore. I came here knowing its a good departure spot to go anywhere. I've heard Kerala is really beautiful, so I just bought a train ticket and am leaving tomorrow evening. Even if I don't get my permit now, it doesn't matter so much because I'm going to another Tibetan settlement in the north in a couple weeks. So I'll take advantage of the south for the time I have remaining here and make the best of this situation. I left in such a hurry that I forgot some of my things at the camp, and have left some useless things in my backpack. For example, I forgot my bikini, and I'm going to the beach. Also, I'm bringing along 3 mortors in my backpack, how stupid is that?!

I Travel Alone, Again

Ok, I’m not in jail, thank God, but I’m quite sad. I guess we hadn’t really realized the gravity of the situation. We went to Kongpo to check and see if my permit had showed up, and as I had predicted, it hadn’t. Kunga spoke to a man who supposedly was the one who took care of sending my application 3 months ago. He now seems to be saying he sent it 1 month ago. WHAT?! I’m really pissed now, but nothing seems so clear… Should I be pissed, or am I reacting too fast? Calm down. (Easy to say...)

We go back to my place and discuss what I will do, maybe I can stay for a couple days, if I’m really low-profile and don’t go out, then we see. Now remember, it’s Monday, so its my weekly walk with sweet little Passang. I go over at 5 for dinner. As we sit on the floor eating our rice, potatoes and green veggies, I recount what happened today to Sanguay (Passang’s master). He has a frightened look on his face and immediately asks me to get Kunga on the phone: this requires a translator for it is too serious a matter for having misunderstandings due to language barriers. I dial Kunga and pass him the phone. They chat for a few minutes. Passang switches his regard between Sanguay and me with big interested eyes, and you can see something is computing in that little big mind of his. Does he understand? I’m sure not, he’s too little, but there are words he understands in that conversation, and everyone can feel the mood, even him, and he can obviously see this is serious. Sanguay passes me the phone. Kunga tells me I must finish my meal, make my way home discreetly, without being followed, make my bags (pack only what I really need) and get the hell out. I feel a big lump in my throat, and no, its not the rice and potatoes. I try to fight back the tears, but I’m sure I have little red patches around my eyes and a sniffling nose. I don’t want to go. I really don’t want to go. I see I have no choice. So I leave my plate, I’m not hungry anymore. I hug Passang, who seems confused (I’m kinda confused myself), and head home. I start packing, gosh I have a lot of stuff. Too much. The man who sent my application shows up, as well as another man who works where I stay. They call a translator over so we can clarify this situation. As I pack Kunga shows up and I have this hoard of monks in my room, all of them calm in their panick. They are afraid, because they say the cops will come and question everyone as to where I am and where I’ve been staying. They could make big problems for the people who have been sheltering me and ask for outrageous amounts of money. I’m ready, I think, and I hop in the taxi Kunga has arranged for me, he’ll be coming along as he doesn’t want to leave me alone through this right now. Thank you so much Kunga. It makes it so much easier to have you along helping me, I feel a little less sad. We rush out of the camp and I’m told I’m ok now, we’re out of the camp limit, I don’t need to worry anymore. The thing is, I’m not the one who’s worried. Maybe I’m not aware enough of the situation, but I just don’t feel worried. Just sad. We’re heading to Hubli, where I’ll spend the night and meditate on what I’ll be doing, where I’ll be going etc. I’ve been traveling alone since I got here, but I knew where I was going. Now I have no idea…

Shit! What Now?!

I just got pinched by police. Today is Monday and it's day off for all monks. So Kunga and I went to camp #3 to look at some carpets. As we walk by the refugee passport office, an Indian cop (dressed in civil clothes) motions us to come over to him. Fuck! How could we have been so careless?! Just walking like that in broad daylight. We whisper a very fast account of our story to each other as we make our steps over to him, to make sure we both say the same thing. They are 2. One a little less unpleasant than the other. The stiffest of the 2 is luckily for us the quiet one, he lets his partner do the talking. Kunga speaks for me, they speak Hindi, and so I can understand most of the conversation (my Hindi is much better than my Tibetan). He of course asks for my permit which y'all know I don't have. Kunga pretends he wasn't aware I needed a permit. He tells him I just came in this morning and am leaving this evening. The cop says he spotted us together 2 days ago walking around Gaden Jangtse or Gaden Shartse monasteries (they are both very close to one another). Kunga tells him that's not possible, he must be mistaken for I just came in this morning. The cop asks him if he's from Jangtse or Shartse, he lies and says Shartse, to be safe. They don't know where I live, but if they start to snoop around, I'm cooked. He then asks for my passport. I don't have it on me, I tell him. He says ok, I can spend the day ( so i'm taking advantage of it to write this now, while I'm allowed to be here, because I don't know when's the next time I'll be able to have internet access) . But if they find out I don't leave this evening, they'll come and catch me, and its prison. He's not fucking around either. I'm not sure what to do. Kunga and I are going to see if my permit has come in (which is almost impossible). If not, we don't know, maybe bakshish? (bribe). This is only very temporary help though, if it even works. And if not that, maybe I have to go, but where? and do what? I really don't want to go. Really. If I stay, than I really can't go out at all anymore and must stay in my room 24-7, hoping they don't start checking the monasteries and guesthouses, asking about me. We'll see what happens, wish me luck...

Let's Walk

Just as I hit the mugger over the head, I realize its........ LOL! No, but seriously. I'm sure many of you had guessed right : it was Kunga. Just as I had decided to start appreciating the moment and take whats on my path, look who shows up on my path, literally.

He's very quiet and almost distant. Sad looking and not in his plate. Of course I ask him how he's doing. His father's only sister died last night, he tells me. They used to all live together in the same house when he was a child. They were very close. Also, he spent the afternon at one of his friend's, who's father died in a car crash yesterday and he just found out.

"Toooo much crying" he tells me,

"same like become crazy, toooo much. I stay with him. Very difficult"

Of course by very difficult he means the obvious tremendous grief from loss. But theres something else very difficult in their situation. Let me give you a very brief detailless summary of how Kunga got here (and he's just an example amongst thousands in his situation). He ran away from his home in the middle of the night when he was only 15. He and a couple of friends had been talking about escaping and decided to finally do it. Of course it was a huge secret and his parents didn't know. He reached Lhasa about a month later and contacted his parents who were convinced he was dead. Imagine his mother's reaction when she found out her youngest child was still alive. The confusion, the joy of his being alive, but the grief of her maybe never seeing him again. They never said goodbye. He speaks of his mom with such tender love. But he was on his way out and after over a month maybe 2 of walking through the mountains (walking at night and resting at day, not to be spotted, the Chinese army and police are torturous when they find Tibetans trying to flee), he finally reached India. He was safe. But alone. So they are refugees here, in exile, and these loved ones died in Tibet. They can't go and comfort and go get comforted by their families, they must go through this alone, or with only a friend's shoulder who is also here, so far away when you need to be so close, so seperated when you need to be together. I can't imagine. I would also become crazy. Very difficult.

So I put my arm on his shoulder and we walk together. We're mostly quiet. He suddenly asks if I've had dinner yet and I'm very glad to announce I havent, we can eat together. For those who know how much of an "epicurienne" I am, enjoying a good meal is an activity I love sharing with great friends. So we go to my place first, I have a gift for him I tell him, besides, its on the way to the little restaurant we're going to. We stop at my room only a few minutes. I give him his gift. He's been wanting to improve his english, so I got him a really nice learners dictionary along with a good exercise book and some illustrated Q&A books about animals and the world in general. He seems really happy about them, especially the World Q&A book.

"This is veeery interesting" he says.

The lights go out like they often do several times in the day, so we head out.

We walk slowly down the curvy road and through the very narrow backalleys to our restaurant. YES!! There's no electricity here either so the place is lit with candles. I love it. Sometimes, I walk by there during cham-cham. If I've already had dinner but the place is candlelit, I'll go in for tea or juice, just because its candlelit. Most other places have generators and they're quite popular, but I prefer the quiet gentle warm feel of the traditional light from fire. I love it. We walk by some friends who are just hanging out outside as we go in and chat with them for a minute. Tashi, who lives right above the restaurant is my favorite of all of Kunga's friends. Actually I think I can now call him my friend and not only Kunga's friend. I love visiting him and have a good old laughing time when he's around. He's very funny and friendly. You can tell he loves his friends very much and wants all the best for them. It sincerely brings him joy when his friends are happy. We sometimes go and sit on his balcony at night where I'll sometimes smoke one of my now rare cigarettes. We talk and laugh, and I try to listen and study what they say when they speak Tibetan together. He asks me a million words in english and thinks each and every one of them is "cute" as he says. Table = cute, bowl = cute, mosquito = cute, promote = cute, etc. Everything is perfect. Its simple, but it feels so nice.

Tashi decided he's leaving tomorrow, he's going to Delhi, then Dharamsala. He just decided, like that! Things'll be a little different, for a while. But we'll see him up there next month. He heard us talking about going up there, and I think it made him want to move. Theres a world to see out there, and its ok to go and see it if you suddenly feel an urge, or inspiration. Why not. When I get antsy, I'll be moving too.

I Travel Alone

We take our walks in the evening. More practical for many reasons.
1 - the police don't roam around at night, so I'm free
2 - Kunga & friends usually are not so free during the daytime either; puja, class etc.
3 - its hot as hell during daytime and it would be a struggle to walk for so long
4 - there's much less traffic at night if we decide to go on the road, which we usually do 'cause there are no lights down the road and the night sky is a marvelous view here in rural India.

No news from Kunga all day. I must have called 156 times, but no answer. I was so anxious to see him when I came back to camp yesterday, but didn't. I'd been away for 3-4 days. We talked and he said he was in Yelapur, sure I was disappointed, he knew I was coming in and he left just about the same time I got here, but then he promised we'd see each other tomorrow. Besides, I have a gift for him I can't wait to give him. So I patiently wait all evening, which wasn't so hard given I had my weekly cham-cham with Passang (our walks have now been reduced to a weekly event : Monday only, kinda like the "no outings on school nights") then all night til morning; I cant sleep due to all the fleas or bed-bugs or whatever makes me itch & scratch like an Indian street dog all night.

So I take my time in the morning before calling, clean up my room, have a light breakfast, practice my Tibetan writing, write a few post cards. Around noon I start calling, wondering why he hasn't yet. Isn't he so anxious to see me after so many days?! I sometimes get self-centered enough to think he might be as childishly exited and impatient to see me as I am him. But how foolish of me, he's had a life's training of patience and self control, how could i think 3 or 4 days is enough? There goes my dependant side taking control again. This is part of what I'm learning here, how to regain my independence, I've been emotionally dependant on others for so long that its become an everyday survival technique, kinda like... I don't know... Breathing. This Is definitely something i must rid myself of. I'm hurting myself which is already bad enough, but worst, I'm a nuisance to innocent & good people around me. I must learn patience and control of my thoughts and emotions. Control is a touchy thing, 'cause its wanting to control life's events around me and their timing that’s the problem. Exterior control is what I want. But interior control is what I need. I know I have it, I've caught myself using it on myself a few times and was surprised at how easy it can be once you've accepted it.

So, anyways. No Kunga all day. I don't know what to think; is he still in Yelapur? Did they have an accident (God forbid!) ? Did he loose his phone? Is he angry? I don't know what to think. So I keep myself busy all day, 'til it’s almost sunset. I decide to go for my evening walk, it will be dark soon. I bring along some simple Buddhist literature (it might help me have a bit more of an open mind and see a different point of view on how to take certain life events : I'm sad and hurt and still taking it personal that Kunga hasn't given me news yet). There's still enough sunlight for me to be able to read for a bit under a tree at the monastery. It works, so I get up and continue walking. I give less importance to this feeling and decide to just appreciate right now. I am very lucky after all. I'm where I want to be, finally meeting people I wanted to know (it’s a new pleasant surprise every time i meet one of these people), I'm realizing important life lessons I didn't know I would, and these will stay with me forever. Like a precious magic treasure trunk, I can share its contents and use them as much as I want, hand them out to everyone on my path in life, yet it never runs out, it just stays full to the rim. I'm free and have family and friends back home that love and care for me. I'm healthy & young and have a whole exciting life ahead of me. I'm walking in the yellowish-pink light of the sunset with a sweet smelling sandalwood rosary at my hand, in this beautiful place, with beautiful peace-loving people all around me. Really. What am I complaining about? Must I control every single detail and aspect? Let me just feel full and appreciate what is on my path at this Precice moment. Life is short, but life is also long, we have plenty of time. I feel good and happy and strong. I can feel a faint but warm smile on my face. I walk quietly for a couple minutes, saying my rosary in my head when I hear a strange sound a few steps behind me. "Tssh-tssh". I'm not sure, I think this sound is familiar, but I'm not sure. Again "tssh-tssh". Should I turn around and see what it is, or should I just keep walking and ignore it. "Tssh-tssh". Ok, I want to know. I turn around and gasp out a surprised "ah?!"...

Je la reconnais cette lune, je suis chez moi

Je vois bien que la partie la plus difficile est maintenant bel et bien terminée. La solitude temporaire maintenant rendu très occasionnelle, ayant été le pire, ce n'est pas si mal comme prix a payer pour tout ce que je suis en train de recevoir de la vie. Je dirais même que c'est pas pire pantoute! Je me sens de plus en plus a ma place. Je dois être ici, et y revenir, je le sais maintenant. Les choses ne me semblent pas si étranges ou étrangères. Je me fais tranquillement des amis, ou des connaissances. Par exemple, j'ai commence a faire de la couture au monastère. Il y a 6 moines qui travaillent comme tailleurs a ce monastère en particulier, ils y font toute les robes de moines, d'énormes tapisseries en soie multicolore, des tankas, et tout les besoin du monastère ou des moines. Un de ces tailleurs m'enseigne la couture et bientôt je serais en train de fabriquer ces jolies robes de révolution de paix. J'y passe environ 3hr par jour, et ca me semble beaucoup plus court tellement j'aime ca. Oui, je commence vraiment à m'intégrer.

Hier soir était la pleine lune, que je sais maintenant que j'ai partage avec mon amie Milena (ici elle était très jaune ma chérie). Il y avait une Puja spéciale au monastère de Gaden Shartse, avec des centaines et des centaines de gens. Des Tibétains s’étaient déplacés de partout au pays pour venir y admirer tout sa beauté et magie spectaculaire. Les Geishes avait passe d'innombrables heures a préparer des sculptures de beurre colorées. Tant de raffinement et petits détails, de couleurs éclatantes, et ca ne fondait pas! (il fait très chaud ces jours si). Il y avait de la musique, pleins de femmes dans leurs traditionnelles robes colorées, des moines rouges partout, des foulards en soies blanches a etre offerts au Buddhas de beurre... Et pour couronner le tout, j'étais accompagne de mes 2 Dorjee favoris; Passang Dorjee et Kunga Dorjee.

Kunga est de loin mon meilleur ami ici, et je dirais même un des meilleurs amis que je possède si je les comptes tous. Un grand moine de 6 pieds +, costaud et fort avec d'énormes mains, hyper charismatique, un tempérament très doux et patient, généreux et attentif, drôle et chaleureux, honnête et loyale, très mature et ouvert d'esprit. Tout le monde l'aime, (d'ailleurs, c'est ce que signifie Kunga; Kun=tout le monde, Ga=aimer). S'il n'était pas moine il serait surement entoure d'un paquet de jolies jeunes femmes follement amoureuses, mais pas suffisamment complètes pour lui. Il m'a accueilli ici tout souriant et aidant quand je suis arrive un soir a 1hr du matin, avec aucune adresse ou aller. Il m'a fait sentir bienvenue tout de suite. Il était là comme par hasard et m'a fait un lit avec des chaises et un petit matelas tout mince sur le toit du restaurant ou il travaillait. J'y ai dormi comme un bébé. Depuis nous sommes inséparables et sommes ensemble a tout les jours. Il a de grands rêves et je vais essayer de l'aider comme je peut pour les atteindre (mais ca c'est une autre histoire dont je parlerais plus tard).

Bon, ca fait un peu éparpillé comme blog je sais, mais j'ai trop de choses a raconter et j'aurais du peut-être commencer beaucoup plus tôt pour ne pas avoir a aller en arrière comme ca, mais ca se placeras, je m'habituerais tranquillement pas vite.

Je suis heureuse.

Passang Dorjee

Je suis environ 20 minutes en retard. Mon petit amour m’attend assis dans les escaliers dehors. Il bondit sur ses pieds a la vue de mon arrivée en me donnant un de ses sourires radieux. Je le salut avec autant de joie et d'excitation qu'un enfant de son âge (il a 7 ans) a la vue de son ami préféré, et lui remet le gros melon d'eau que je lui ai apporté en cadeau, il fait si chaud, c'est comme si je lui avais offert une fontaine! Il le prend bravement dans ses bras et se bat avec l'escalier jusqu'au 2e étage.

Je suis bien heureuse de mon accueil. Il pose le melon à la chambre de son maitre spirituel (il a déjà un maitre spirituel, petit chanceux) et me prend par la main me suppliant d'aller "cham-cham" ; il ADORE marcher. Il sait pourtant très bien qu'il n'a pas a me supplier, c'est le moment le plus sacre pour moi de toute la journée, notre longue marche. Il est si joyeux, si drôle, charismatique, mature et intelligent. J'adore l'observer. Je ne sais pas à quel point il se rend compte de sa situation. Il ne verra surement plus jamais sa maman de sa vie. Je ne sais pas si vous vous rappelez avoir 7 ans, mais ça doit être un concept extrêmement épeurant. Il doit bien le savoir, tous les adultes parlent de sa situation ouvertement devant lui. Au moins, ils ne lui mentent pas.

Il est très chanceux dans sa malchance, mais cette malchance existe tout de même. Il est arrivé ici dans un tourbillon d'événements. Un vieux moine a offert a ses parents trop pauvres pour nourrir leurs 4 enfants, de lui offrir la chance de devenir moine, avoir une bonne éducation, de quoi manger et de bons soins, autant physiques qu'émotionnels. Ils n'ont pas hésité, leurs autres enfants plus vieux ne savent ni lire ni écrire et ne le sauront jamais, ils vivront le même sort que leurs parents dans ce cercle vicieux. Lui, au moins, aura le monde devant lui. Le vieillard l'a donc amené avec lui au sud de l'Inde, dans ce camp de réfugiés, avec l'espoir que son vieil ami l'accepterait dans son monastère. Il l'a bien sûr accepté. Si vous le rencontriez, vous aussi diriez oui tout de suite. Il ne peut pas accepter tout le monde, ils sont très nombreux, mais Passang a quelque chose de magique, une vieille âme.

Son maître n'arrête pas de dire que Passang est béni d'un bon karma, et je le crois sans hésitation. Il est fait pour ce qu'il est en train de vivre, je suis sur qu'il verra le monde, il voyagera, rencontreras plein de gens qui l'aimeront. Et déjà avec son premier long voyage, ici, loin de sa famille et tout ce qu'il connaît, il semble filer le bonheur, il n'a jamais l'air malheureux, et il rencontre plein de gens qui l'aiment, en commençant par moi. Je lui promets de l'aimer, d'être la pour lui s'il a besoin, quand je ne suis pas physiquement ici, je suis a un téléphone près. Il peut m'appeler n'importe quand, même si nous ne parlons pas encore la même langue, ça viendra, et je serais encore la dans quelques années quand il parlera couramment anglais et moi tibétain. Sa première année de soins et d'éducation est déjà réglée, et s'il y a d'autres besoins imprévus qui font surface, je ferais tout ce que je peux pour les assumer. Je t'aime petit Buddha. Je vous quitte, j'ai une longue marche à prendre...