Three very different towns in Northern India

Leaving the concrete jungle of Chandigarh, I headed for the old British hill station of Shimla aboard the narrow-gauge railway—affectionately called the to the Shimla Toy Train—which winds its way over the course of eight hours through more than a hundred tunnels and even more switchbacks.



The town was once a summer home to the Britsh Raj, who came to get out of the overwhelming heat of Delhi. Shimla is a hugely popular vacation and honeymoon center for affluent Indians, and as a result the town has a really relaxed atmosphere and I enjoyed spending a few days people-watching, strolling along the British-colonial architecture, browsing the busy market street, and enjoying the delicious north Indian cuisine. Here's a video of Shimla's market street, followed by a few scenes from the city:






The only thing that prevents Shimla from being truly relaxing is that the town is chock-full of monkeys. Walking down the street, you’ll hear a bit of rumbling from a rooftop, and then — BAM! — a monkey falls from the sky and hits the ground in front of you. It gets a little bit freaky sometimes. The locals must think so too: they’ve shipped a bunch of the crazy monkeys to a park in Tajikistan. Here’s a shot of a sleepy monkey, followed by a video of a few monkey-acrobats:





Sightseeing options in Shimla are a bit limited, but I did check out lemon-yellow Christ Church which is only the second Christian church to be built in India. I also made the trip to the Himachal Pradesh State Museum, which was surprisingly great. Highlights from the small museum included intricate Indian miniature paintings, an excellent collection of old coins, a display of traditional clothing from different periods of time within the state, and an interesting collection of local contemporary paintings. There was also a small section about Gandhi, which included a fascinating letter he sent to Adolph Hitler in 1939, which begins, “Friends have been urging me to write to you for the sake of humanity.”



I left Shimla on a night bus bound for the little mountain town of Manali, a popular travelers hangout and a base for doing a number of outdoor activities in the area. One of my big reasons for doing this quick tour of Northern India was to try to get out of Delhi’s 90 degree heat for a little while. As I arrived in Manali just before dawn, it was clear I was going to get way more cold than I wanted: the town was freezing and teetering on the edge of winter. A lot like a Colorado ski town, I arrived at exactly the wrong time: it was too cold for summer activities, and the snow hadn’t hit yet to attract the skiers. I enjoyed myself anyway, hanging out in cozy restaurants, reading over tea, exploring the nearby villages, and navigating the crowded streets of the city center. Although I had started getting used to the trash and pollution everywhere, Manali’s otherwise beautiful mountain setting made it all seem so much worse. Trash seemed to cling to every surface, rivers and streams smelled like bathrooms, and the air in the town center was so polluted that I had to hold the arm of my sweater over my mouth in order to breathe. I’m not yet sure what to think of India’s astounding sanitation and pollution problem, but it will certainly be a major hurdle for them as they escalate into the first world over the next thirty years. Here are a few scenes of the mess:





After a few days in Manali, I was very ready to leave so I got on another night bus, this time bound for Dharamsala, which has served as the home of the Tibetan government-in-exile and the Dalai Lama, who came to the town in 1959 after barely escaping Chinese-occupied Tibet. In my first few minutes of walking through the nearby town McLeod Ganj where I’m staying, I experienced culture shock. This time the shock wasn’t a result of the trash, the hassles, or the poverty, but from something else: Americans. Throughout the last three months, I’ve probably come across a total of about 75 Americans. In the course of a single day in Dharamsala, I ran across at least twice that many. Eating lunch, I overheard pieces of a conversation: I can’t believe Steven Soderbergh directed that movie… it just seems so out of character for him, you know? I just sat there with my mouth open in shock. Hearing a mass of Americans talk about regular American stuff with each other was really weird for some reason. I suppose I’ve just gotten so used to not being able to understand what anyone is saying that it has become normal for me. All over town, it was the same story: You should buy that scarf here, honey, it’ll be a lot cheaper than back in Boulder. Boulder? As in… Boulder, Colorado? I don’t know what it is about Dharamsala, but it brings us Americans in droves.

I’ve been here for a couple of days now, and I am absolutely overwhelmed by the staggering amount of stuff there is to do here, mostly revolving around Tibetan culture. McLeod Ganj is the main Tibetan stronghold outside of Tibet, and the relatively small town is mostly Tibetan despite being in India. Movie houses around town screen movies about Tibet along with a handful of Hollywood blockbusters, you can sign up to learn the Tibetan language, get schooled in the basics of Tibetan massage, and more. I’m in the middle of a three-day Tibetan cooking class along with a couple of other foreigners, which has been fantastic. So far, we’ve had a day learning the ins and outs of making different types of momos (steamed dumplings) and a day making variations on bread. Tomorrow we’ll tackle a few different recipes of soup.



Yesterday, I paid a visit to the main Buddhist temple in town, located just a few steps away from the Dalai Lama’s residence, where he lives when he’s not on his regular speaking tours across the world. The temple serves as the main spiritual center for Tibetan refugees, who are forbidden by the Chinese to make the trip into Tibet to the Johkang Temple in Lhasa. The temple complex and foreign tourists alike are overwhelmed by the loud Indian visitors, who unfortunately seem to come to the temple just to get pictures with foreigners and practice their English. Here’s the first of many groups of people that took pictures of me — I know it’s really hard to distinguish me from the group so I’ll give you a hint: I’m the white one in the middle.



The other night, I went to a coffee shop to listen to a Tibetan refugee talk about the horrific ordeal he has been through in Chinese-occupied Tibet. When he was eighteen, he served as a monk in a monastery which was taken over by the Chinese, who imposed a strong set of rules on the monks so that the monastery would be run in harmony with Chinese politics. At risk to their own lives, he and three of his friends decided to rebel by putting up posters around town denouncing the Chinese occupation. They immediately fled the towns and lived in hiding for almost twenty days before they were captured and imprisoned. After three years and two different prisons where he sat in solitary confinement, he was transferred to a work camp where he was forced to work long hours inside a dangerous mine. After only a few months, he was horribly injured by a piece of machinery inside the mine; both of his legs were broken along with one arm, so he was taken to a Chinese hospital where they quickly declared that his legs must be amputated. Thankfully, he was granted the request to be transferred to a Tibetan hospital where he slowly got better, legs and all, over the course of almost two years. As he recovered, there was pressure from the Chinese for him to go back to the work camp. With the help of an old teacher, his doctor, and his sister, he was somehow able to escape Tibet and flee into India. He made his way to Dharamsala where he has been living for years as a refugee, but is trying hard to get Indian citizenship in hopes that he will be able to return to Tibet to visit his family and friends. Visiting is still a risky proposition, because he stands the chance of being imprisoned again for his old crimes, but he thinks that the Indian government will protect him from the Chinese.

It was a pretty heartbreaking story, and unfortunately, I’m sure ones like it could be told by many other people in town, and in other refugee communities in India, Nepal and other parts of the world. Even more shocking is that these horrific events are still happening. Just yesterday, a group of 42 Tibetans trying to flee into India over a mountain pass were gunned down by the Chinese military, killing a nun and a young girl and injuring many. The only reason word got out that this happened was because some western trekkers happened to be on the same mountain pass and caught the whole thing on video and in pictures. Since China’s government highly censors media and there is no free press, people living in Tibet and the rest of China will likely never hear about it ever happening.

Despite a decent amount of international pressure, Tibet remains under strict Chinese control. Although I’m only recently aware of all of these issues, it seems clear to me that the Tibetans have one big shot at gaining a truly autonomous province: the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. At no other time in the history of China will there be more foreign press in Beijing, and it seems to me that if enough people made enough noise, something substantial could be done about the Tibet situation, among other things. Although my brother would probably have a lot more insight into whether or not pushing China to change is completely idealistic (care to comment Bill?), it seems like if they ever would change it would be based on a huge amount of international pressure and potential national embarrassment. Here are two Tibet-related websites that you could check out if you’re interested in learning more or taking action:

International Campaign for Tibet

2008: Free Tibet

I’m planning to hang out in Dharamsala for a few more days because there’s so much to do, then I’m headed for Armitsar, located a few miles from the India-Pakistan border. Then I’ll make my way down to the desert towns of the Rajasthan state where I’ll spend about a month before flying to Thailand to meet up with my friend Gerni, who I’m quite happy to say will be traveling with me for a few months.

Also, while I was in Manali, I made it to Day 100 of my trip, which means that I still have three-quarters of my trip to go — a simultaneously scary and exciting thought. I was going to write a big Day 100 post with all of my thoughts and feelings so far, but I was far too busy traveling and the moment passed. I’ll just give you a quick and shallow summary of thoughts, realizations, and things I miss:

I really miss my friends — there’s nobody on earth like ‘em.

I can spend an unbelievable amount of time alone without getting bored.

I am hopelessly addicted to the Internet.

Time goes by really slowly when you travel. Austin told me it seemed like just yesterday when I left. For me it seems like its already been a year.

With that in mind: thirteen months is a reeeeally long time. Holy crap.

Good coffee tastes even better when it only comes around once a month.

People in Asia seem to have only heard of California, Florida and New York. It’s a strange feeling hearing myself describe Colorado as being “in between California and Florida.”

Beds in Asia are hard. So are pillows.

America is designed in ways I never realized before. Almost every object you touch in America has been considered and coordinated by someone. Every day, I have thoughts like, there’s something screwed up about this bus, or this sidewalk is really weird for some reason that I never had before in America.

Food I miss: Taco Bell, sushi, Dr Pepper, pumpkin pie, and fresh cracked pepper.

Books I’ve read so far: Platform, Peace like a River, White Teeth, Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure, Are You Experienced?, Cloud Atlas, Blink. White Teeth and Cloud Atlas are my favorites so far.

The album I’ve listened to the by far more than any other is Modest Mouse - Building Nothing out of Something. Other bands in heavy rotation: The Books, Black Eyes, Dave Brubek Quartet, Green Fuse, Tilly and the Wall, Lightning Bolt, Humble Ary, Mates of State, MIA, and Pearl Jam.

Well folks, that about wraps it up. Thanks for reading this absurdly long post. More than four pages in Microsoft Word — a new record!

Ryan!

Photos uploaded: I’m totally caught up with my photos, so go check em out! There are new photos from my trek in Nepal, Chitwan National Park, Delhi, Chandigarh, Shimla, Manali and even a few from here in Dharamsala. I’ll try to upload more videos from the last month, but for now I’m just going to focus on keeping everything up to date.