On the Watch

Wednesday 12th May 2010

10.45am

Triund (2900m) under a large rock

India

This morning I slept through my 5.30am alarm and got up around 6.15am. By 7am I was climbing the 150 or so steps from the monastery up to the road leading McLeod's central square. I bought 10 half rupee eclairs and two pieces of Tibetan bread. I had a bottle of water in my bag. 

I walked to Dharamkot, a small village behind McLeod Ganj, and then began the long hard slog upwards to where I am now at an initial peak called Triund. It took a good 3 hours. 

I've been rewarded with a stunning view. There is also not a man-made sound to be heard. Just birds. There are a few flies buzzing around me, but most of all I am being over-run by Ladybirds, which are everywhere, and to honest I don't mind them at all. 

I've good childhood memories of Ladybirds. 

I'm sat just above the hiking path which carries on to my left. You can continue for a few days along various stages. Above me hanging up over me is a large jetty of rock providing me with shade. 

There is blue sky and white cloud in front of me, and trees on a lush green hillside opposite. However between the two and dominating the view are rocky snow covered mountains with a couple of glaciers running down them. It looks so...pure. Clouds skim their peaks.

Coming up I met barely anyone for most of the way. Then in the final 1km I bumped into many people heading down. There is a rest house at Triund you see. A basic hut with floor space. There were several groups of Indian tourists as well as western ones.

I was photographed like an animal in a zoo (or should that be like a model on a catwalk?) at the start of the hike by some young Indian lads also heading up, but the slow pace of the 6 of them meant I passed them by soon enough. Two English people gave me good directions at the beginning of the hike in Dharamkot.

It was quite a tough climb, at least I sweated a lot, thankfully I was/am wearing my Rovers 99/00 home shirt so it kept me cool.

There were also monks heading down earlier. At Triund there are many prayer flags tied to the trees. There are two snack stores at Triund, and halfway up there was a tea stall too with inflated prices to match the height at which it stood. The owner could not have been any more disinterested in my custom that he was.

Yesterday no sooner had I finished writing this diary than I was approached by a Tibetan guy heading to Dharamkot, we walked back towards McLeod talking. His name was Lobsong and he's in the process of building his own cafe, he's a chef.

He told me about his plans and asked me, as I'm a tourist here, for some tips. I told him to get a big TV and show the football on it. We exchanged e-mail addresses and parted. He kindly took a photo of me stood on a mountain roadside with a lush valley of trees behind me. He also explained a few things to me about the area, mainly that the Dalai Lama's sister ran the Tibetan Children's Village nearby. A school for Tibetan orphans.

After getting back to McLeod I had time to go to the Tibet Museum.
It was very insightful and well timed as I was able to see a documentary about the Tibetan uprising in Lhasa in 2008.

Afterwards I walked around the town aimlessly for an hour and stopped in a cafe to get a mango milkshake, it was okay, but the rooftop view from the cafe was better.

I bought some momos (4 veg, 4 potato) some chapatis, water, and biscuits, and some Pepsi and went back to the monastery.

I read some of my books for a while and a chapter of The Last Mughal, only 2 left.

I haven't met anyone at the monastery yet, just passing hellos, I'm not really bothered about that for now though.

I see lots of adverts for English teaching and conversation classes here. I've a feeling I may get sucked into making inquiries, we'll see.

My Tibetan bread was wrapped in Unit 17 of  an exercise book on interviews and public speaking.

I couldn't buy a newspaper this morning because I was at the shop too early before they had been delivered.

I wonder how long it'll take me to get down this mountain.
Tomorrow I'm pretty sure I'm going to inquire at the Tibetan Government Complex tomorrow about getting a library pass and doing a philosophy course.

Some grey clouds have appeared.

I need to do some laundry and use the internet soon.
Dharamkot seemed a very peaceful place.

Our Dear Brother

Tuesday 11th May 2010

12.25pm

Unknown hermitage, unknown hillside somewhere near Dal Lake

near McLeod Ganj

India

Now seems as good a time or place as any to update my diary.

So I have been in McLeod Ganj for two nights, but didn't write last night due to an impromptu power cut at 10pm.

Right now I am sat on a rock by a tree. On the hillside are many boulders and rocks with a few crude paths leading through them. All around are leafy green trees, though I am in a small clearing. Above and behind me, tied among the trees are hundreds of colourful prayer flags, rectangular and colourful; yellow, red, white, blue and green. They ruffle in the gentle breeze.

Further back is the stone built hut of a community of Tibetan monks, there huts spread out among the trees and complemented by a couple of modest white stupas.

I am the only person here, enjoying the view, one or two monks have passed in front of me though, 10m below me, ambling left to right along a stone track. A few minutes ago a voice behind me told a friend that the Dalai Lama's sister runs or administers this hermitage, who knows.

There is barely a cloud in the bright blue sky; looking behind me a great bulk of cloud is on its way, doubtlessly heading from the alpine-like snow capped Himalayas (the alp-like Himalayas or the himalayan-like Alps?)

I am looking at the vast plains to the south. The view is endless. The blue sky merges softly into the balmy white on the horizon. I can see 100 miles, at least it feels that way. The views here in the western Himalayas are so much clearer than those in Sikkim in the east.

From left to right I can see almost 180 degrees of dark flat long horizon. It seems like a low ridge of hills, in front of them are several more distinctive low ridge lines of hills and high mounds than dissipate into the flat expansive flat plains which run up to the foothills of Dharamsala. Yellow fields and pockets of trees populate the plains.

The sunlight is twinkling on the roofs of many small buildings. There is no town or village to, everything is spread out and dotted here and there on the patchwork land.

Dharamsala is tucked away to the left behind a hill. I can see however the red-topped stadium of the Punjab Kings. Far off to my right there appears to be a huge lake or wide river with only indistinguishable features and a watery glisten.

In the foreground the hills rise up closer to me, covered in trees and various shabby constructions. A small village lies 300 or 400 yards below me. I can hear a school P.E lesson going on; balls bouncing on a court; peoples' voices crying out; closer still tall trees and boulders; birds chirping; cockerels screaming; the high sun beating down over everything.

When I open my sun cream for the first time time after going up in altitude it all comes splurging out of the tube of its own accord. It reminds me of squeezing fresh icing on a cake where you feel you have little control over it. 

I sat around on my bed picking my nose for 20 minutes the evening before last. Just pulling out those troublesome long hairs that seem to grow from time to time. I don't trim them, usually I take my razor to them. 

...the sun has moved position, so now I have too; moved a few metres to the left...

There are few flies and mosquitoes up here in the hills. By day it is warm and hot enough for shorts and t-shirt, by night cool. It has rained twice since I arrived here but they were just showers. 

I've been buying a lot of 1 rupee and half rupee sweets. Eclairs mostly. They are ideal to chew on if you go off walking for the day like I did today. 

Also in the central square here, which is very small, crammed and busy with life, I've found a place that sells the newspaper (yesterday I had to go without). Meanwhile I've come across a Tibetan woman who sells Tibetan bread each morning, the slightly yellow muffin like thing tastes good. 

I've been getting through a lot of biscuits. Indian biscuits are poorly made though. The ones with cream and jam in the middle can easily fall apart; sometimes the two pieces of biscuit encasing the creamy centre and back to front. They are morish though. 

Yesterday I ate a nice veg. Thukpa for lunch, Tibetan noodles and ate dinner at the same place as on night one here, a veg. Thali and chapatis for 30Rs. I have grown fond of biscuits and pop in the evenings though. 

Anyway, I went to the main sites here yesterday, the Dalai Lama's residence and the Tibetan Government complex. The latter has a good museum and I was able to catch a great photo-exhibition there too which taught me a lot about Tibet and the Dalai Lama. They've also a huge reading room and they do language classes as well as Buddhist philosophy classes. I am tempted to stay here for 3 weeks and take one of the courses. They seem cheap, and this place feels nice to be. 

The only annoyance is the single beggar who wanders around with her baby in her arms following any white person she sees and asks them for money or food. She is not Tibetan, I've seen no Tibetan beggars. The Tibetan community really seems to support itself well here. 

The Dalai Lama's residence was pretty underwhelming and quite modest, which you'd expect really. The complex has a temple where he does some of his teachings from and a cafe and museum (shut when I went)

I visited St. John in the Wilderness Church, an old Gothic church built when the British were here. Lord Elgin, former viceroy of India is buried there (incidentally it was his farther who purchased the Elgin Marbles). Many grave overlook a wonderful view of the plains. 

I find graveyards reflective, not sad or depressing. 

I also found a couple of monasteries on the McLeod Ganj area. One was at the back of the Dalai Lama's residence down a hill. The trees around it are covered with thousands of prayer flags at its entrance; 50 or so shiny prayer wheels are placed in the perimeter walls. It rained while I was there and I changed the film in my compact camera. 

The other monastery has a school and lots of young monks staying there. Also it is where I am now staying. This morning I checked out of my double room and am now staying in the monastery in a single room for the same price. It is much quieter though. My original abode was full of noise, mostly from the staff moving around, shouting and playing music. The monastery has a stellar view from it's lower hillside location of the Kangra Valley. More later. 

In my room is a picture of the Dalai Lama. It's Spartan but clean. There seems to be several travellers there but I've not met up with them yet. I only checked in quickly and than started on this walk to Dal Lake (which is all mud) and a near by village; I hope my camera will reveal the great view northward of high hills and beyond them.  The mountains looks so close; snow capped; rocky; huge glaciers sit on them; grey clouds sit over the peaks casting vast shadows across the mountain sides. It really was a spectacular view to see and made feel that I was really looking at the Himalayas. 

Soon I'll wonder back down to McLeod. There is a busy community of foreigners and Tibetans there. I believe the mountains I could see were on the Dhauladhar Range. There are other scenic walks that I'll take this week I hope. 

I really am considering registering with the Tibetan library here and signing up for one of the philosophy courses, there is one running for two weeks until the end of May. 

I'll have a chance to organise things before heading home I think. 

I'm all out of sweets and water now. 

Before seeing anything yesterday I stopped for a tea with a you Tibetan guy who got chatting to me. It was a small wooden shack on a side road. I basically taught him English for an hour. His name is Tenzing and he writes poetry in English and wants to be a writer. I gave him my e-mail address, he kindly paid for my tea. He was a nice bright lad already at a decent level and I enjoyed helping him out. Maybe I'll bump into him again. 

At the Government complex I meta girl from Zurich with Tibetan parents here to study Tibetan and a guy from Taiwan here to learn Tibetan too. The girl didn't finish her Thukpa, but I though mine was nice. 

Time to wrap this up. I think I've covered everything for now. The clouds are sweeping over and looking very grey. 

In the next few days I'll make a decision about either sticking around here or heading on to Manali.

The Law-writer

Sunday 9th May 

11.05pm

Double room, Kalsang Guest House, McLeod Ganj

India

The toilets in the Golden Temple dorm area in the Sri Guru Nam Das Niwas complex have deliberately cut peepholes; if you're taking a dump anyone can look in and enjoy seeing you strain away or wipe your ass. 

There is a lack of commercialism in India, well in the parts I've seen of it, which is nicely refreshing though bound to change. Walkers have got here though, their crisps are everywhere. 

Most abundant of all on most street tea stalls, corner shacks and at all level of restaurant you can find a Coca-cola sign. Often they are above the entrance of an establishment and depict not only the name of the business in English but of course have the words 'Coca-cola' and a small head and shoulders picture of an Indian celebrity taking a swig. These red signs stand out everywhere. 

I am now in McLeod Ganj, home of the Dalai Lama. I've settled for now for a double room (150Rs a night, a single if available would cost 100Rs) due to it being all I could find available. This is a busy hill town 1700m high above sea level and full of Tibetans obviously and many tourists. It certainly seems like a happening place with loads going on, not just shops and tourists things but many courses in various things, yoga, cooking, hypnosis, meditation, music and Buddhist philosophy...while English courses are also run. 

The town itself isn't big, I wandered around for an hour or so earlier, but it does sprawl away into the various hills. Anyway I'll see more tomorrow and the tourist sites including where the Dalai Lama lives. 

It feels like this place has a good atmosphere. There's lots to see and do and little hassle. I just watched Chelsea win the Premier League on the hotel TV. I only caught the last 30 minutes however as the night receptionist wanted to watch a Bollywood movie. He got a phone call however, from his mum or girlfriend I guess which kept him busy so I went behind the front desk to flick through the channels (no battery in the remote) until I found Andy Gray's soothing tones. 

A restaurant/hotel in the town was advertising the screening of the game (Chelsea V Wigan) and charging 50Rs to see it. 

I'm going to be trying to get by on 200Rs a day here. 

I've no idea if I'll manage it. I did today. Meanwhile I am not entirely sure how long I'll stay here; one week maybe. It depends a lot on what I find to do, tourist stuff, cooking classes, English teaching? 

I found a great cheap place to eat, it was recommended by a Korean guy in Amritsar and by luck I found it here and had dinner there. Rice, veg, dhal and some chapatis for 30Rs plus a 5Rs tea. The place has no name but it's popular despite being no wider than a car. 

Later I bought a Pepsi and two packets of biscuits. 

I can't get through an evening without some cheap biscuits in India. 

I read a good chapter and a half of The Last Mughal earlier. It was good to lye on this double bed from which I am writing and enjoy a good read. 

I didn't eat much during the day. I took the 7am bus from Amritsar to Pathankot. I had to shower and shit in the dark this morning though as the toilet light was out in the foreigners dorm. 

At Pathankot, a small town near the border with Pakistan, I waited for a bus to Dharamsala which left at 10.30am. I must have reached McLeod Ganj at about 2.30pm. 

It was all very efficient. A real jobsworth conductor on the second bus did make me move seats though at the last moment before leaving when all the the other comfortable seats were taken. Annoying, because I was one of the first on the bus to begin with an neither I noticed or had pointed out to me that I had actually chosen the conductors seat. 

I ate some biscuits, some eclair sweets and an orange Indian sweet all curly wurly (Jalebi) on the bus up. 

A man on the bus befriended me and told me he was heading to Dharamsala for marketing - basically to sell his rugs and towels - he told me his family was all from the Hindu Kush. He was incredibly polite and burdened by 4 heavy bags. I helped carry one bag up some steps to a taxi rank at the end of the journey. Like me he seemed to be a long way from home. 

In McLeod Ganj not far from my eventual hotel I got the front turn-up on the front of my right trainer fixed. A 17 year-old India lad, taught the trade by his father, used all his tools to stretch up and fix the flailing piece of rubber that had become unstuck. I was reluctant at first, but I like my shoes to have a tidy symmetrical look. 

The boy told me to pay whatever I wished, it was either 20 or 50 rupees...so I went with 50. He was from Dharamsala but his parents had moved from Rajasthan, though I was confused if they moved before or after he was born. 

There are many monks in the town; Indian tourists who come to the hills to cool down; a few beggars of Hindu persuasion; buskers are on the main streets too. A white guy here was surrounded by a large crowd as he played on his didgeridoo. There are many arts and craft shops here.

The town also has many mountains surrounding it and some valleys which give good views of the plains. It's pretty scenic. I'll see more soon. 

It's been a long day, I was up at 5.30am. I've been wearing the same set of clothes for 3 days now; time for a change tomorrow. 

...I keeping thinking there is something else I should add but I can't remember what it is right now. 

Time to sleep, tomorrow is another day. 

Signs and Tokens

Saturday 8th May 2010

10pm 

Dormitory room, the Golden Temple, Amritsar

India

I just tried Kulfi - a type of Indian Ice Cream. I've no photograph but I just had it out in the super busy street. It's a different texture from other ice cream, the western type, this stuff is dense. Mine was served with some kind of transparent noodles on the top with a load of cherry sauce. The ice cream itself was in a carrot shape but less rounded and of a dark brown colour. It cost 15 rupees. 

This is my last night here, tomorrow I'll go to Dharamsala, the adopted home of the Dalia Lama. I'll take it a bus there as early as possible tomorrow. I may have to take two. The only direct one leaves near lunch time but  separate buses can be taken via Pathankot and will get me there earlier. 

I had a nice communal dinner tonight with several fellow travellers from the dorm here, before which we visited Attari together, which is a place on the border with Pakistan. Every evening at the border gates there they hold a parade/show/ceremony. 

Anyway, tonight I was joined by an interesting mix of people; Sun-Jin from South Korea, who had just completed an internship with Hyundai Motors in India and is now travelling; A French-Canadian girl, who has been on the road several months; A Steve from the Brighton area and of Sri Lankan descent, who had recently graduated in English Literature from Westminster University; Also two girls living and working in Delhi for a human rights law firm, one is from Orpington and the other Zurich. 

The dinner hall was the busiest I'd seen it and trying to help with the washing up afterwards was nigh on impossible, though we managed 15 minutes all the same. They had yellow rice with he dinner tonight, yum. 

...also at the border ceremony with us tonight was a girl called Emmy, a Swedish girl of 20 living in Berlin and working as a club rep. 

At around 4pm 8 of us, who had all got talking to each other in the dorm earlier in the day, headed in a mini-bus - 75 rupees each - to the border with Pakistan at Attari for the daily ceremony held at sunset. There were thousands and thousands of people there and many opportunists street sellers pushing CDs and DVDs of the event. 

We were sat in a circus maximus like arena with big gates half way along separating India from Pakistan. Indians cheering, dancing, shouting slogans are at one end egged on by an official Mr Motivator working them up into a frenzy. On the Pakistani side the men and women sat separated in a far more subdued manner. 

The half-stadium like venue, as the seats run only along one side, with a curved section at each end looks down on a two land road which cars travel down until 4pm each day to cross the border by road. People piled into their seats on the Indian side and it was standing room only. Foreigners were accommodated in a separate section closer to the border gate however. The pre-ceremony build-up was dominated by loud music - party style, on both sides. It was hard to clearly see the Pakistani side but it was clearly less populated and less lively than the Indian one. 

In turn girls on the Indian side ran 100 yards or so down the road carrying and/or waving a huge Indian flag; they ran up to the gates and then back where the came from with the friends and family taking pictures. This went on for a good 10 minutes with the chosen ones enjoying every second. 

After this Bhangra music burst out loud and women from the crowd were again allowed onto the road this time all dancing together for a good 20 minutes or so to different songs while the observant Indian soldiers prepared for the official part of the ceremony and watched on. 

All the younger soldiers directed the crowd coming in to their seats and advised them not to stand. They were all fine young examples of Indian men. In neat khaki uniforms, black boots, long white socks and all wearing big red hats with some kind of big fan on the top running from their foreheads to the backs of theirs heads like a mohican. They looked centurion like. 

The ceremony consisted of lots of organised yelling from the soldiers and high boot marching down to the border gates one by one as they were cheered on by the spectators until finally the flags of each nation were lowered and the soldiers from both sides shook hands. It was a fun and interesting spectacle . The music was great. 

I must get a CD of Indian and Bhangra music to remind me of this event in future years. 

In the mini-bus down the driver played his tapes out loud and I looked at the desolate but beautiful landscape as the day was drawing in; the majestic 200 year-old Khalsa College; the unkempt country roads and the flat fields, their edges tree-lined and running off in all directions into the distance; cows and dogs idling by the road side; cyclists on their old and rusty bikes and rusty rickshaws full of people rushing by; occasional restaurants, isolated in the sparse surroundings. In the dimming light it all seemed nicely atmospheric, perhaps even romantic. 

I hope the pictures of the ceremony come out well. 

Earlier in the day all I did was eat at the temple for breakfast, where today a man made me hold his baby while he talked to me. Afterwards I wondered around the old town and the used the internet. I did some reading back at the dorm but not too much. 

The dorm is a little busier tonight. 

The old town is lots of old twisting alleyways that are easy to get lost in. Many roads in India do not have road signs, let alone small alleyways. 

It was good to partially catch-up on my e-mail. 

Yesterday evening I didn't see the cricket, India lost. 

England play tonight against South Africa. 

I've probably forgotten lots of things, many minor, that took place last night and this morning. I've lost count of the number of people who have said 'hi' in giggles passing by or attempted conversations with me. Several  people sat around me this morning when I took a break from walking around the temple pool. It did get a tad overawing. Of course it is all friendly but it naturally feels odd to be subject to so much attention. One wonders what British colonialists felt hundreds of years ago, if it was same then then I can only imagine it may have hugely fed their egos. 

Anyway...

I need to make a donation to the temple here for my stay. I'll do that after finishing my diary notes. 

Tomorrow it is back to Buddhist India, and I hope much more learning of all things Buddhist. It should be exciting and interesting. I may stay there a few weeks. I just hope there are some good people, places and resources to make good use of. 

Amritsar and the Sikh religion has made a big positive impact on me, although I only have a small grasping of their religion I've a lot of respect for it and its truly devoted followers. 

But now back to the Buddhist road...

...time to donate, pack, and sleep.

...finally, I am sure Amritsar will be one of the defining memories of my time in India, I recommend it to everyone to come here. 

...the speaking tree...

So I'll continue with the diary soon...

Here though I want to put up a picture of the notebook I used...

It's a kids exercise book really.

As I was I travelling I tried to read the Times of India - an English language newspaper - everyday.
Sometimes it was hard to find a copy, as although England is full of newsagents and corner shops run by Indians, India is not.
Everyday there would be a column called 'The Speaking Tree' which was always about some spiritual element of life.
They would be written by a different contributor each time and the best ones I cut out of the newspaper and kept in the back of the notebook.

So I've decided to up load the ones I kept. If I felt the article resonated with me in some way I tried to keep hold it.

The Speaking Tree community looks very interesting and provides timely food for thought!
http://www.speakingtree.in/

The articles...
I've uploaded them in X-large so they can be read online

Transform with Self-awareness

Examine Success and Failure

It's All In The Mind

The Buddha light

Be Aware, Embrace Life

Try To Be A Witness

Sometimes there was an interesting cartoon too...

This last photograph is of a scrap of paper I found in the back of the notebook. 

I taught a young Tibetan guy while I was in Mcleod Ganj and as you can see he wrote down some Tibetan expressions for me. The Tibetan script looks nice.

Covering a Multitude of Sins

Friday 7th May 2010 

5.05pm

Cafe Coffee Day, Window Seat on the 1st floor, Hall Bazar

Amritsar, India

I have a great view from where I am sat. This 1st floor window seat overlooks a T-junction. The sun's early evening light is falling on the street below while I am sat here in an air conditioned room with just a couple of other people and some not too aggressive music. 

I am in one of Amritsar's few western style coffee shops. I haven't often come to places like this, they aren't very Indian. My 'Assam Express' cost 45 rupees. Your basic chai on the street costs 5 rupees. But it is nice to relax, I am paying I guess for the comfort. 

Up the street in front of me is Jallianwala Bagh which I visited today. I learnt plenty and felt suitably self-conscious due to being the only white tourist and of course because of what the place represents. 

A British officer and his men brutally gunned down over 300 unarmed Indians there back in 1919 and now the site is a good memorial dedicated to those who died. 

To my left are fruit sellers on the corner of the street that leads away to the left. Pineapples, mangoes, grapes, and bananas all stick out and the stalls are parasol covered. Below me at the entrance to the coffee shop are two parked motorbikes and a bicycle. A rickshaw driver is loitering close by too. 

Up and down the street main street leading the from bagh and away past me to my right and many passing bikes, rickshaws and people walking, though there are relatively few cars. The road is split in half by some yellow railings which prevent any nasty collisions on the dusty road. 

It's amazing to notice that there are so many Sikhs here in there distinctive turbans. I haven't seen barely any East Indians or Bengalis. The Sikh religion was conceived pretty close to here of course. Al the Golden Temple museum today I learnt all about the religions origins and some of its most important Gurus, like the founder Guru Nanak and Baba Deep Singh. 

Needless to say shops in buildings 3 or 4 storeys high looking like they were built in colonial times line the roads. The modern shutters fixed on to the shop fronts. From the far right, a dried fruit store, a lottery agent, a Pagri house (?), an Indian clothing store, a Sikh painting and gift shop, and then several other shops running away out of sight. 

Some Sikh music has started in the street, someone is playing a record out loud. I love the sound. Music in India is very uplifting. 

The section of the Sikh holy book, the Granth, which can be heard at the Golden Temple all day everyday and is accompanied by music is very familiar to me. The tap tap of the drum and a string instrument in tandem too, neither can I name. The sound resonated in my head this morning as I went into the temple situated in the middle of the giant pool. The inside is beautifully golden and in it sits a man reading from a book and musicians playing along as he reads. All the while thousands and thousands of people pour into the temple and are chaperoned through it as they make offerings. 

The Pagri store does turbans - I just noticed a sign in the window. 

The beat and the rhythm of the music is infectious. Some nice people spoke to me at the temple today, I ate breakfast there. The food was slightly different than before, but good. More chapatis.

I helped with the washing up for 20-30 minutes afterwards.

Then sat thinking by the pool and wondered around for a while. 

I hope my photos come out well. The auto-flash and the general bulkiness of the camera make it impossible to take discreet pictures. I've used one film now. 

I need to use the internet soon. 

I'm the only customer here now in the coffee shop. 

The front page of today's Time of India headlines with the death sentence passed down to Mumbai terror bomber Ajmal Kasab. 

I visited two interesting Hindu temples today, one a less glamourous and far less busy copy of the Sikh's Golden Temple, and the other the Mata temple north of the train station. The latter is more like a fun-house than a temple with several spiral staircases , narrow low roofed alleys and corridors and a waterway to scramble along. As you negotiate this most unholy of holy temples there are hundreds of small shrines and statues along the way, many brightly painted or decorated lavishly. 

I found the bus station and information about going to Dharamsala. Also I went to a hostel to enquire about rooms, but with no single rooms free I probably wont move there. 

The dorm has turned out okay. I woke up at 6am but slept very well and got to use the shower with no fuss do for a second night I'll be there and maybe a third. 

I love the distinctive look Sikhs have, turbans and long beards, strong eyes. 

This tea I am drinking is okay, but they could have filled the cup to the top. 

I walked around a lot today but feel I have pretty well got to grips with the city, especially as I walked from the train station to the bus station and through various market streets. 

I think I am a disappointment to the rickshaw drivers as I always walk. 

I can't think of anything else to add for now. But I am enjoying Amritsar. 

...a group of Sikhs are eating bananas from one of the fruit-sellers. All of them are over 30 it appears with long beards and dressed neatly in light coloured shirts and long dressing gown like robes. They are a family I think... 

What to do for dinner...the temple or something different??? 

I used to take a lot of pictures of my food but it's a bit tougher now! 

I'll decide while I read the paper for 10 minutes...

6.30pm at Ram Das Niwas (the dorm) 

India play Australia at cricket in the 20Twenty World Cup at 7pm. I found out in the newspaper. 

On walking back to the temple dorm I ate a 'Patato Cheese Chop' from a street vendor which was served with some salad and chilli sauce for 10 rupees, very nice. Only a small snack though. 

May try and find a TV for the cricket...

The Ghost's Walk

Thursday 6th May 2010 

9.30pm

Dormitory room, the Golden Temple, Amritsar

India

This dorm room is very over crowded and everyone is very close to each other. There's no space between the beds. It is right next to the Golden Temple complex and the rest of this particular building, the Sri Guru Ram Das Niwas is filled with Sikh pilgrims by the thousand. 

Outside and around the temple are thousands upon thousands of pilgrims who have come from lord knows where to this sacred site, a Mecca for Sikhs. 

Tonight due to overcrowding, people will sleep on the dorm floor. 

My first evening here in Amritsar has been eventful and hectic to say the least. I arrived here in the city at around 5.30pm and looked for the bus from the train station to the temple, the free one as advertised in the LP (Lonely Planet). 

After what was a peaceful air-conditioned train trip from Lucknow to Amritsar it was a shock. It was a great scrum to get a seat on the bus that was packed and even against woman and children I had to power my way on to the bus past them, utilising my large backpack. Move it or lose it. 

...in the dorm right now are a French couple distracting my attention from writing. The noise of the fan in the ceiling is doing the same...

While waiting for the bus was an equally disturbing experience.

The bus stop by the train station was easy enough to find, after swatting away several taxi drivers like flies one after the other (which is a regular practice for travellers here), I saw a large group of people gathered by a rusty old post near the station entrance. The sun still beating down. 

The group included some young lads, aged around 20 or 21 who soon took notice of the lone white traveller. I loitered near the group resting and waiting before some members of the group began to loiter around me. I didn't like their joky attitude or direct overly personal questions which I had to wait for them to spit out in their broken manner. 5 or 6 of them stood around and spoke Hindi among themselves, and asked me where my wife was which seems funny now but which at the time I wasn't in the mood for. All the while several young lads were encircling me, like they were eyeing some prey, and just staring at me like I was an animal for sale at a show, worse still a freak from the circus or alien from Mars. Piercing white eyes and slightly furrowed brows. 

The concept of treating foreigners with respect, where that foreigner may be from, is lost on the people of some nations. A local Sadhu, protested to these guys that I was not here for their entertainment. I moved away from the crowd slightly, trying to let it all pass and hoped the bus would turn up soon, which it did. 

One of the cocky ringleaders of the gang patted me on the back of the head as people moved towards the bus, at this point my mind was focused on making it onto the bus. It was the kind of things a 5 year-old would do. I don't like that kind of disrespect, the kind where people think it is okay to touch a stranger. Frankly it riled me a little, and my demeanour became a littler stern towards the guy who hit me. I gesticulated towards him as we squeezed onto the bus. 

Anyway, water under the bridge now. A second guy on the bus also realised the banal nature of the young lads and helped to a seat and gave me directions getting off. 

The journey didn't take long. 

It was unpleasant, but an experience. It showed me something.  

Taxi? What taxi? 

There are many foreigners in the dorm but are all mere needles in the haystack once they go outside. 

After dropping my stuff off at the dorm I headed to the Golden Temple as the sun was starting to set. I washed my feet and handed in my shoes and socks and covered my head with an orange bandana which a stranger, an old Indian man, helped me put on correctly. 

Then I went inside and saw the temple. A magnificent golden shrine surrounded by a large pool the size of a a couple of football pitches roughly. Everyone walks on the marble surrounding the pool and a walkway leads to the temple in the middle which contains the Adi Granth (the Sikh holy book). It's called the Golden Temple because it is of course covered in Gold and I took some pictures with my 'new' camera. 

Here, walking around the pool, I attracted some much more friendly attention. I sat by the pool's edge and a couple asked me to take a picture of them with their young son, so I obliged, with neither party quite understanding the other. Then he wrote down his address and asked me to mail him a copy of the photo, so now I have a small piece of paper with an odd name and address on it to send the photo to.

Next a group of several young girls asked me for a photo and with the help of a passing old man who spoke English I discovered they were from a small village somewhere and wanted their picture with me.
Some of them were really quite nice.

I was beckoned by several other people and fell in and out of conversation with lots of people. After a while my energy waned.

At the temple, which is free to enter just like the dorm, which is free to stay in, is a huge kitchen that serves free food 24/7 to visiting pilgrims and visitors alike. So I went to this huge dining hall with literally thousands of other people at the same time. Everyone picked up a shiny plate and spoon on the way in, and either marched upstairs to the second floor dining hall or used the one on the first floor.

It was amazing.

The place operates with remarkable efficiency. Everyone is served the same. Warm chapatis, dal bhat, some potato, some vegetable slightly spiced and some water.

As you walk in staff/helpers/volunteers hurriedly direct you to a sport on the floor. Everyone sits in long lines on the floor and no sooner have people got relatively comfortable than servers begin working their way quietly along each line within the room dishing out different bits of the meal. Seconds are fine.

Of course donations are appreciated and kind of expected, if not of money then of time. At least it seemed that way.

I didn't help with the washing up but I may well do at breakfast tomorrow, volunteers are welcome whatever you look like or whoever you believe. It was a great experience and a great few hours and now I'm drained,  but it all seems like a remarkable splendid place.

...plenty of surrounding attractions to see tomorrow.

The food tasted good. I had similar food on the train this lunchtime. I really really like chapatis now. I want to eat lots of them when I go back to England.

...I'm really not sure about this dorm.

Even if Amritsar seems fun and interesting I don't fancy sharing a shower with 30 people. I may as well walk around dirty and unwashed for a day or two.

Do all the other temple stuff tomorrow then move on. There are other good things in Amritsar that don't require me to be staying in the temple.

I am drinking a Sprite and eating some cheap biscuits as I write. An Anglo-French couple in giggles near me is distracting me on my right, and my eyes are a touch heavy.

I didn't eat much on the train but did drink lots of tea.

The first leg of my journey, Gorakphur to Lucknow was sleeper class - where you meet the real India, come across travelling beggars and tea sellers and many interesting aromas.

I met a nice guy on the journey too, Karpil. He was only 22 and he told me all about his job and his life story. He was a non-pushy decent nice guy.

The second leg of the trip from Lucknow to Amritsar started an hour after arriving in Lucknow (a place famous for an uprising during the British Raj) so I filled my time watching the local monkeys play on the desolate tracks from 2am to 3am. I travelled 3AC, the lowest air-conditioned class, wow! it was really great. Unlike sleeper class you get a pillow, blanket and more staff cleaning up and so on. I actually lay comfortably enough to drift off to sleep for a good few hours.

After waking up in the morning and for the rest of the journey throughout the day I was, surprisingly it felt, not hassled by anyone to speak small talk with as I sat and read books for most of the day.

Well, I think for now at least that covers everything.
Let's see what tomorrow brings...

Quite at Home

Wednesday 5th May  2010

3pm

Air conditioned waiting room, Gorakhpur Station

Gorakhpur, India

Back in India! and still keeping up this diary business!

I feel there is a lot to write but I'm sure through laziness or forgetfulness I'll forget or not bother to write one or two things.

I took an early-morning cycle rickshaw from Lumbini to Sunnali which is at the Nepal/India border. It took at least two hours and was a distance of about 30km. It cost 600 Nepali rupees, the bus would have cost 40.

The Maoists in Nepal are still on strike though. No vehicles are on the roads bar military or emergency ones, which in funny way made the journey to the border very peaceful.

...there is a crying baby in the waiting room, it's a little distracting.

Actually this waiting room, with air con, is one of the nicest I've been in in India.

So I arrived at the border around 10am.

I had had one last breakfast at the monastery at 6am and afterwards said goodbye and good luck to Martin from Germany and Lucas from Holland. Rices and vegetables and two cups of tea.

The food at the monastery made me very regular in a very healthy way. 

I had thought about walking to the border this morning as rain over the previous few nights had cooled the morning air. The sky did indeed sprinkle cool rain during my trip to the border too. However 30km, even on flat ground with what was only at first a marginally heavy bag would have been too much. 

My driver (I've never said that before) gave me a sweet along the way. I gave him all of my water. I wish rickshaw drivers were female, you'd spend all your time and money on staring at their behinds. 

I'll miss the temple life and the routine I had, while also fondly remember the people I met there, both those passing through and those working there. 

After the usual bureaucracy I passed into India and a took a two hour tin can bus journey to where I am now, Gorakhpur. Due to my luggage, one large blue rucksack, I got a seat at the front so I had a good view.  In the event of an accident though I would have been a dead man as I would have gone straight through the windscreen. 70 Indian rupees. My sustenance was a packet of 10 rupee biscuits.

...so now at Gorakhpur station I'm waiting for my 7pm train - the Kushinagar express to take me to Lucknow at around 12.30am tonight, at 2.30am I'll take Akal Takht Express to Amritsar arriving at 5pm tomorrow afternoon. Then off to the Golden Temple! Amritsar is near the border with Pakistan.

I was only in Nepal for two weeks, but it feels like a long time since I first arrived on my initial visit to Lumbini.

Yesterday the ATM and petrol station here were closed and the few open shops were drying up. Still some travellers will ride it out I'm sure...

I went to the library for the last time yesterday for 4 or 5 hours. I got a nice chai and the Dr there showed me some interesting books about the saved monasteries in the Spiti Valley.

I really feel that I learnt a lot and read a lot and gained a lot from my week in the temple and frequent library visits. I came across and got introduced to lots of interesting topics.

In the evening I ate a big dinner, riceless though, and included lots of cooked vegetables. I had some tea, Pepsi and some cheap biscuits. I was in bed by 8.30pm and well underneath my fan brushed mosquito net.

....I've come to realise that I really like drinking tea in Indian train stations. It's reliable. It costs 4 or 5 rupees and is sweet enough to satisfy. Buying a small tea, which incidentally are served in shot like glasses here, was the first thing I did today upon arriving at the station, it was accompanied by a copy of the Times of India.

The computerised voice of the station intercom is slightly distracting me. While in this quiet waiting room there are a few armed soldiers sitting with a large family on the other side of the room.

...it's felt a tad strange taking a cycle-rickshaw rides here. The pace is slow and children, especially in rural areas are not used to foreigners, especially sun burnt, pink and freckly ones, so they often say hello (or ask for money if their parents have raised them well!). It feels like your a monarch on a procession through a city waving to your subjects when you sat on of them. A peculiar feeling.

Time for some sleep.

The trip through the countryside today was very beautiful, though on a bus you get no time to fully appreciate the scenery.

Footnote: The monastery in Lumbini sounded like the Planet of the Apes at night.

4.45pm

Despite the unwanted attention from beggars and the stares it feels good to be back in India. I am considering returning next year via Egypt or a European country. Anyway 4 weeks left here yet.

Buddhism, food, old relics, colonial history, funny people, all reasons to be in India. 

  

A Morning Adventure

Tuesday 4th May 2010

7.35am

Outdoor dining table, the Korean monastery

Lumbini, Nepal 

This morning I am a little tired. I took breakfast at 6am so rose at 5.30ish to wash. It was the first time I took breakfast here on the my second visit. Usually I just drink tea all morning until lunch (11.30am) but not today. 

Since breakfast I've hand washed some clothes in my room and hung them out to dry over our first floor balcony. 

I didn't do a great job scrubbing out the stains I think, especially in my whites, but the most important thing is to remove the smell of sweat. 

The main factor for my slight state of tiredness is due to not sleeping that well. The buzz of the flies, midges and mosquitoes as well as other flying terrors in our room albeit outside of our mosquito nets seemed louder than the infernal din of central Calcutta with all its horns, traders and wailing masses. 

In contrast to that irritation however me and Martin (the German guy in the room) were last night able to really hear and absorb the sounds of the nature around us. 

I was reading on the balcony after sunset, somewhere in the chapter of Vanity Fair that talks about Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens and from the...

...okay I've moved into the indoor dining room to continue writing. 

Something about the morning sun seems more striking today...

...temple which is shrouded in darkness at night came the sound of monkeys, jackals, wild dogs and all kinds of exotic monsters all at the same time. Stark noises competing with the usually hum of the mosquitoes and bugs sprawling through the undergrowth that accompany every nightfall in every sub-tropical climate. 

The noises were quite magnificent. 

It was clear the animals in question, what ever they were, were inside the main temple building, which is at this stage a large concrete shell and thus empty at night. We could see nothing. It was pitch black. But we could hear everything. 

Out of the blue one more than one occasion during the night we could hear in unison the collective screaming, screeching and wailing of some pack of animals from somewhere nearby. 

At night there are very few lights on. 

Around the park containing all the temples here is a high red brick wall, but on the western side (the opposite side from the town, bus stop and main park entrance) it is ill maintained and the gates are often open. So animals of any nature can come and go as they please. Besides the park is so big and in large parts remains uncultivated making it a playground as much for animals as humans. 

The noises at night here are the kind that make you wonder what is out there, because when you hear what ever it is out there it is not something you can put your finger on. How often at the zoo do we hear animals screaming, shouting and roaring like they probably do in the wild? 

In my experience Zoo animals have always seems so docile. 

The sounds of the animals though really are quite beautiful. It is like listening to a concert brought to you by nature and all the things you find in the Jungle Book. It can make it hard to sleep though. 

The Maoists strike action, closing most shops and transport routes appears to still be ongoing. I'll find out more details for myself later. 

Yesterday all shops appeared closed when I went to buy a Pepsi, some biscuits and a new pen. If the worst comes to the worst I'll have to take an expensive cycle-rickshaw to the Indian border tomorrow. 

I went to the library again yesterday. No one else goes. I sign my name in the guest book and only my name has been entered into it in the past week. The security guards recognise me. Looking back through the guest book entries it is clear one or two others have hung around for a while like me. 

They bought me not only a chai yesterday but also a one litre bottle of water as opposed to the standard 600ml. 

When I arrived at the library I wasn't feeling so enthusiastic, but soon came across several books that I wanted to delve into. However I only got through a couple of chapters of one. So I'll go back early today. 

The head researcher (I assume that is what is he) spoke with me yesterday. I don't know his name. He's German and has been in Nepal 27 odd years. 

He seems pleased someone is taking an interest in the library and Buddhism. Today he'll show me some research and restoration material relating to the Tabo Monastery in the Spiti Valley in Himachal Pradesh. A place I'd like to visit. 

Some of the world's finest examples of Tibetan Art exist there, or so I read. I bet I can't take photos of it all though. 

I wonder if my Olympus compact is up to the job. 

I'll write down all the book titles. 

Anyway, it'll be nice to spend one more day reading. 

As I walked back to the monastery here yesterday I had a great feeling of contentment inside me. All due I think to my recent regular routine, no hassle from people in the street, a feeling that I am learning a lot about Buddhism, and being able to read many books. All very enjoyable. It has given me a great deal of satisfaction to be here again. 

Finally...yes...I read some really good stuff about Buddhist ethics yesterday also about the last Mughal in India so I'll dive into those respective books in a minute. 

There are no mirrors in our dorms here, but today I looked at my reflection in one of the communal mirrors in one of the bathrooms and realised my eyes appear so much more healthy than when I was glued to a computer in South Korea everyday. 

Footnote: When back in England buy a big bucket. Washing each morning by pouring a big bucket of water of my head really is quite refreshing. 

My next entry may not be until I am in Amritsar or still marooned here, though I'll write from the train if I've the energy and comfort to do so. 

Telescopic Philanthropy

Monday 3rd May 2010 

7.45am 

Outdoor dining table, Korean monastery 

Lumbini, Nepal

So me and Martin discussed lot of things about Germany over lunch yesterday; food, films, culture, all that kind of thing. It turns out he knows well (being from Munich) several of the places I visited during the world cup 4 years ago. 

In our room we have been joined by a Dutchman, much older than us. 

This morning is very sunny. 

I went to the library yesterday afternoon and read about the relationship between Buddhism and science and how various Buddhist concepts can be proved by science and are not contrary to it. There is a lot of harmony between the two. 

The only sticky point I have found id the teachings on the soul. Buddhism, although there is in some quarters some dispute, claims there is no soul, so my question is (like some other peoples I guess) who inherits good and bad karma from one life to the next? 

I didn't go into the town yesterday but Martin tells me the Maoists scheduled protests have begun. They rolled into town on their motorbikes and closed all the shops. Maybe this might continue for a couple of days. Incidentally I saw thousands of Maoists on a street protest/march in Kathmandu during my short stay there. 

I got talking yesterday to one of the Korean girls here.

She was here when I was here before and must have must have been here now for weeks and weeks. Like me she is spending lots of time learning about Buddhism. The only difference is that she is learning for an hour or two each day direct from one of the monks, while I on the other hand am learning from books. 

The pace of life is obviously slow here. Construction takes forever. The central canal running north to south through the park, which I walk along to reach the library, is lined not only with trees, grazing cows and prayer flags, but also piles of red bricks, the kind used to build council houses in England. The canal is incomplete with no water in it and the paths on each side unfinished. The number of workers seems small and day to day it is hard to perceive and changes; the lack of activity keeps the area peaceful at least.

Today I may pop into town to buy a new pen. I'm excited about heading back to India. I hope my cheap Olympus camera - which requires real film! - is up to the job of helping my through the next 4 weeks.

This morning I'll read more about Buddhist ethics, a chapter or two about the last Mughal and if I have the mental energy some of Thus Spoke Zarathustra.


Incidentally I think we do have soul, or a soul of some kind, an evolving consciousness perhaps that continues life after life. Something that we only become aware of upon reaching Nirvana. But it may not be eternal.

A Progress

Sunday 2nd May 2010

8.20am

Outdoor dining table, the Korean monastery 

Lumbini, Nepal 

It is the morning after the night before, and what a night! 

Lightening, thunder, wind and rain came and I guess it was a pre-monsoon shower though it lasted for hours and hours. 

I stood in my 1st floor room doorway and starred into the night. The electricity was cut. Every few seconds a ripple of thunder like bombs falling on a far off town would be followed by camera flash-like lightening that would light up the whole temple complex in front of me. 

Outside over the balcony in front of me I could see on the ground torch lights searching into the night. I guess the night watchmen were checking the temple hadn't been washed away. 

My drying socks, that had been hanging on the clothes-line outside my room, were swept onto the floor.

Some storm water leaked into my room during the night. 

Right now the sun is shining amidst pools of water on the ground. There are few people around. A few ants are here to keep me company at the table at which I write. 

...a woman from the kitchen just brought me a cup of chai (tea), this is most unusual. Firstly because I already have a cup of black Korean tea and secondly it never happened before here so that makes me think it is unusual. 

It's welcome all the same. 

I suppose the day manager here, a local man not a monk, is trying to saver power. I have been asked to move to another dormitory. For four nights I've been on my own in a four bedroom dorm, the room I was given when I checked in. 

Luckily I'll share it with just one other person, Martin from Germany. Last night me and him continued our post dinner conversation about all things India. 

Many thoughts enter my head at night, usually when the lights are out so I let them slip away only to try and squeeze them out of my head again in the morning when I can put them down on paper. 

Plain Indian Chai is nice and sweet. Very strong. 

I think I'd like to spend more time and money on and with my friends and family. They are what should matter most to me. I can't give to beggars or willingly to charitable organisations without resentment because I feel I should take care more of those closest to me heart than my wallet. 

For my Dad's birthday I bought him some books from Amazon. I bought two, then one extra one. Also I decided to send a copy of the Karma Sutra to a friend who I know is getting married this month. A good friend and I regret I'll miss his big day. I've already sent him one small gift a few months ago, but I wanted to send one more. 

It wasn't much, but better than nothing. It made me feel good to click 'purchase these items' and to spend a little on them. I feel happy giving, and want to believe I did it in this case out of sincerity and not guilt, the only thing between those is state of mind. 

Yesterday the library was closed. I used the internet and changed my train tickets and bought some washing powder to do my regular hand wash.

On Wednesday or Thursday I'll take the train to Amritsar in India. It is near the border with Pakistan and home to the sacred Golden Temple of the Sikh religion, for some reason I've a burning curiosity to see it. That is the key, to follow your curiosities no matter what. In Kathmandu I'd lost my curiosity.

After Amritsar in Punjab province I'll head north to the home of the Dalai Lama and to some other (literally) cool places.

Now that my plans to teach have been put to one side I'll simply enjoy visiting places that are interesting to me where I can learn and relax.

When I get home...CELTA? Masters? (English Lit? Buddhist Studies?) Part-time job?

Where to settle...London? (because it's London) Bristol? (my hometown) Cardiff? (close to dad and my sister) Northern Ireland? (close to my mum)

I wonder if my infatuation with learning about all things Buddhist is a passing phase or will develop into something more long term. Time will tell.

The neatly lined up crusty wheelbarrows to my right are filled with the nights rain water, while I can hear the pleasant clamour of people working in the kitchen.
Birds are singing, well...chirping.

This morning I'll read chapter 3 of The Last Mughal and more of Buddhist Ethics. Last night in bed I dived into Vanity Fair. I still love English literature. I never knew Thackeray was born in Calcutta!

I wonder if it is worth pursuing getting a literary agent for my first book, maybe it's a pipe dream, or something that I could focus on between world cup matches in June.

To Amritsar - Gorakphur to Lucknow, change trains - Lucknow to Amritsar.
15 hours, 1000km.
40+ in Amritsar according to Google.
3 or 4 days is fine.

To Gorakphur - 3 hour bus from Sunnali to the Nepal/India border.

Footnote...
I know the world is getting smaller but I feel I should treat my time here as a once in a lifetime trip - it is hard to do in the heat. People travel so often and I may well do so again, BUT I think tomorrow circumstances and higher priorities could easily takeover.

Another footnote...
(last night's thoughts are coming back like lightening flashes!)
Sometimes I don't want to 'do' anything, sometimes it's nice just to 'be'.
That doesn't mean losing passion for life, it simply means (to me) not continually pushing yourself into new things and places, until you feel inclined to do so rather than duty bound.

10.45am
It's strange how after living in an urban area containing 20 million people + (Seoul, Incheon) and being comfortable their, that India represents a completely different challenge. It is not the number of people, it is their nature.

In Fashion

Saturday 1st May 2010
7.45am
Outdoor dining table, the Korean monastery
Lumbini, Nepal

I think two weeks here at the monastery will be too long. 

7 or 8 days will be enough. 

The desire to see as much as India as I can before I leave, has to some degree, resurfaced in me. 

Today I'll use the internet to try and bring forward the dates of my train tickets. I think I'll be able to do all the reading I want to do at the library here by the end of next week, while also make a lot more progress with my own books. Vanity Fair is waiting.

Sometimes I wonder if it is right to be here, or more precisely to be travelling here when I know deep down I feel that my friends and family and myself would benefit if I was at home. I feel to some degree I've neglected them. Financially I can go some way to expressing my feelings for them and make up for lost time in that sense, but I am here in India. It's an interesting scenario. 

Sometimes Indians stare at me and other travellers so much, as if they are saying 'What they hell are you doing here!? In this poor, dirty and chaotic place! You could go anywhere but you're here!' Sometimes I see their point. 

However nothing in life needs satisfying more than a man curiosity, and I am no different. There are many curious things in India. Cities, temples, people, lakes, shrines, palaces, foods and other things. 

So when I leave the monastery I want to see the things I had planned to see in the Autumn and early Winter, after I had taught. 

These places include the Golden Temple in Amritsar, to stay there too; Dehdra Dun and the Molling Monastery, which has the world's tallest stupa; Rishikesh the world's home of Yoga and nearby Hardiwar, a sacred religious site for Hindus; Mussoorie which is a popular and apparently scenic colonial hill town; Dharamsala home of the Dalai Lama, where I had hoped to teach; finally if there is time the Red Fort in Delhi and the Taj Mahal and its environs. 

There are many places in Southern India to see but it's hot enough in the north. Time may beat me but I'll see what I can, without rushing myself or stressing myself out too much. 

I fly 7th June. Yesterday I spent the afternoon reading in the library, walked into Lumbini town and back to buy a bottle of cola and some biscuits, ate dinner - less rice more veg- and read in bed until the schedule power cut. 

The only other thing is that I met a nice German guy who is staying here. I gave him my now unnecessary altitude sickness tablets. 

We talked about all things Indian. 

Between now and lunch I'll continue to sit here in the shade, drink tea, and read. 

Right now I am reading The Last Mughal by William Dalrymple and Buddhist Ethics by Damien Keown 

...10.15am...I'm up to page 84 in the former book

...it's a good 5km round trip walk to the shops here 

...the road trip from Lumbini to Kathmandu takes you from the plains at sea level to mountain roads and bumpy gravel tracks at 1500m 

In Chancery

Friday 30th April 2010
7.45am
Outdoor dining table, the Korean monastery
Lumbini, Nepal

No Diary entry for 3 days so this morning a bumper edition.
I've travelled for 12 hours by bus from Kathmandu back to the place I started in in Nepal.
The Korean monastery in Lumbini (the birthplace of Buddha) in Nepal.
I stay here for four days prior to going to Kathmandu.

To be brief, for two pounds fifty per night I can stay here as long as I want. I get almost unlimited tea and three meals a day. The food is all vegetarian, lots of rice and mixed veg. Sometimes they serve fruit, usually bananas with the ends cut off and also curd. I love curd. A yoghurt like substance that goes great with jam, honey, sugar and/or some fruit.

Meal times are strict, 6am breakfast, 1130am lunch, 6pm dinner. It's up to me if I attend each meal though.
Every diner serves themselves and then washes their own plates and cutlery. Guests cannot eat until the monks and nuns have served themselves first.

The actual temple here is still under construction, right now it is a large outer shell of concrete several floors high. Instead of emitting the sound of prayers being read it emits the sound of power drills hard at work.

Other parts of the complex are long finished, like the monks quarters and meditation rooms, guests rooms and dormitories too. Everyday dozens of workers arrive by bicycle to continue work on the temple. It'll look great when it's done.

This is a Korean temple. So many guests are Korean or from other Asian countries. There are some Europeans but not as many. Because meal times are set everyone often eats together, meeting people is easy.

Despite the power drills it's a peaceful and friendly place. The temple is in the middle of a huge park which includes spot where Buddha was born.

In addition to the Korean temple there are Buddhist temples representing all Buddhist (and some non-Buddhist) countries here. So China, Japan, Thailand and even Germany and the USA have put up or are in the process of putting up temples here.

The site has a museum, and a library that I will start regularly visiting to make use of their book on Buddhism. They've a great reading room.

The monks and nuns are all Korean where I am staying, while many of the staff are probably Nepali though they look Indian. The border with India is only one hour away.
Lumbini is on the Nepalese terai (or plains) so no spectacular mountain scenery here.
The 250 acre park that everything is in is still being developed, so there are some daily tourists, but not many.

During my first stay here, for four days, I was able to go to the top of the temple and enjoy the view a cross the whole park. The Korean temple, when complete, will be the highest one here.

Now my mornings here will consist of drinking tea - I've a blow of it in front of me now. Black, no milk r sugar. They'll also consist of reading books. I picked up a lot of books in Kathmandu, more details on them later.

Afternoons will consist of library visits where I'll learn about the history of Buddhism and the practices of it. I may be here two weeks.

In Kathmandu only a couple of good things happened. I got my trainers fixed by a man in the street who had some glue; he was Indian and from Delhi. I bought lots of books to read, and I bumped into a girl I met travelling in India over a month ago. She's very nice, always positive and open minded, we shared a coffee and this time I remembered to get her e-mail address.

I got sick of Kathmandu, of being viewed as a big white walking ATM. All I did was and eat overpriced unhealthy food. I guess that doesn't sound so bad really, but I was doing it for two reasons, and one of them was because of stress and not enjoyment.

Hiking can wait. I've no energy for it. Nor have I energy for the persistent hassle in the street. In India I kind of got used to it because I expected it, but I thought Kathmandu would be quieter.

I just want to read and eat healthy food now. Some Coke would be nice too.

I booked my flight home - June 7th from Delhi.
In front of me now are two books.
What Would Buddha Do? by Franz Metcalf
The Last Mughal by William Dalrymple

My hands are still peeling from the sunburn I picked up in Varanasi weeks ago.

I'll think a lot about my future while I am here this time. About what to do, and about whether I'll do anything at all really.

It feels like ages since I arrived in India from Singapore, which was 5 or 6 weeks ago.
It feels like a whole lifetime since I was in Beijing which was a little over 2 months ago.
My life in South Korea seems like a distant memory of ancient times, almost biblical and shrouded in myth; it could be compared to a childhood memory that has slowly faded away into a vague incomplete picture in my mind.

As for life in England, did it really happen?
Was it all a dream?
Have I died and been reborn?
My former life in England feels as distant and remote as the stars in the sky.