Oops

It's been more than a month since I've posted...it doesn't seem like any time has passed. I've been in Ladakh this past month giving piano lessons and teaching English grammar at the campus in Phey Village. I do a lot of other tutoring as students request it on a casual basis. I've also been spending some time swimming, running, weeding, and sitting in a hammock reading. Six months has been the longest I've ever been away from the U.S. There have been moments of such profound joy that I could not at first bring myself to share my feelings with anyone else. There have been stressful moments when I've wondered why I'm even out here. There have been revelations, changes in perspective, and hard lessons. I won't return the same person, but I look forward to the same things I have always enjoyed back home. The plan in my mind is to return again to India sometime after Christmas, do another semester with VIS and stick around for another month again. I have a lot of doubts about the next few months. I don't know what I will be doing. I need to get a job and frankly I don't really care what kind at this point. Mainly I hope to enjoy some time at the beach and with friends and family. I don't think working will feel like working wherever I am. In a sense it will feel like a vacation from traveling, which can be totally exhausting. This month at the Secmol campus has been so relaxing and five months at home...somewhere... will be even better. I realize I've now spent more than a year of my life in Asia. I never expected that to be the case. What next, I wonder.

Laos

This month has been full of new friends and sad goodbyes. Just five minutes ago I stood outside my guest house wishing a bon voyage to my Irish, Maltese, American, and Swiss friends with whom I'd spent seven days riding motorcycles throughout the southern half of Laos. Had I not met Dominic and Colm, who convinced me that I'd be able to learn how to operate the clutch and balance on a bike (even though they themselves had never ridden) I wouldn't have had half of the experiences I will now cherish from these three weeks in Laos. And the fact that Sarah and Brenda, Cristina and Malia all decided that they should also learn how to ride on the spot and then our one experienced rider Kevin joined us made for a bad ass crew, cruising through villages that never see tourists. But my desire to get back to India for the next month made me abandon one last trip down to 4,000 Islands in the far south of Laos, which was my original idea behind staying in this country longer. Still, abandoning a plan to follow the heart is the best thing. Ladakh is waiting. I need to dedicate a nostalgic moment to a few unforgettable nights in Pai, Thailand where the backpackers convened at Edible Jazz by night, and buzzed around on mopeds by day. And a moment for the slow boat down the Mekong with the leg dangling off the side. One for Luang Prabang and the temple up on the hill and the French architecture. Even a moment for the stupidity of the tubing debacle in Vang Vieng. And Vientiane, where we rode bicycles with the British girls and I said goodbye to my beloved travel partner Susannah, who will forever add an extra layer of sentiment to this whole trip. Susannah went to the southern Thai beaches while I decided to stay in Laos to head to 4,000 Islands. And how about a moment for the present moment, typing in Pakse, waiting for an overnight bus back to Bangkok, a flight to Delhi, a bus to Manali and one to Leh, Ladakh. Sweet Ladakh, where the valleys caress the soul and the mountains keep your secrets quiet for eternity.

this is kathmandu


this is pokhara

Boudhanath

After having a few good conversations with scholars and headmasters at Buddhist institutions in Boudhanath, Kathmandu, I went to get lunch at a place recommended to me earlier that day. I ordered jambalaya rice, which was a bright red color and mesmerized me as I ate. I was focused down toward my plate and the notebook next to it when something came crashing down on my head. I didn't know what was happening. There was a deep gasp from across the room and then I was out of my seat, staggering. There was a small commotion around me and a table of Westerners were staring at me. I looked back at my table and the big clay flower pot smashed into pieces around it. It had fallen from a ledge six feet above me, out of my vision so there was no warning. It had also been filled with dirt so that the weight on my skull was substantial. I took one more staggering step and glanced again at the table. My red rice had been buried by six inches of dirt, the rest of which had spilled across the table and floor, and the back of my neck. I went to a clinic for a neurological exam, and passed (I could walk a straight line). Everything still seems to be fine after two nights. Rose told me there was an energy I was already tuned into before I chose my seat in the restaurant.

Photos from Nepal

Nepal

Thamel is the most popular neighborhood for tourists in Kathmandu, which for me translates to a good time, plenty of relaxation, and interesting people to meet in a place that might as well be anywhere else in the world. A warped view of Kathmandu--a warped view of Nepal. Still, spending a few days here before venturing north to Pokhara (another heavily touristde area) reminded me that I am supposed to be slipping into vacation mode. My main problem is that I seem to have a knack for feeling relaxed even on the job, so when I'm not working it doesn't fel all that different and I look for little assignments I need to complete.

Heading up to Pokhara was a good experience, and felt a little like a summer camp. Getting away from the smog of Kathmandu was also nice. We went fishing, hiking, horseback riding, canoeing on the lake and bonded with some inspiring new people at night. One was a Quebecan (?) writer/lecturer/social worker, with whom we attempted to wait out a monsoon rain at our restaurant table. Finally the rain never stopped and we walked through it laughing. We also met a Nepali who'd moved to the states at age thirteen. He took us to natural hot springs unknown to foreigners and to a nearby home/restaurant for some local food. I haven't felt much better in life than I felt after those hot springs. The river they sit beside is called the Sethi (white) river, because it is white from the limestone it carries. Not the white of rapids, but really a rich silvery color. Sliding back and forth between the cool river and hot springs between lush green mountains and waterfalls in the distance, I think I finally embraced vacation mode fully. Our Nepali friend came to visit us at our guest house back in Pokhara later that night and we talked politics until sleep started knocking.

Politically it's an interesting time to be here. Nepal's congress got rid of the king's power in 2006, forming a parliamentary democracy. Last August a Maoist prime minister was elected but failed in the eyes of many Nepalis. Then three weeks ago he stepped down after the president vetoed his attempt to sack the army general and instate a Maoist to that post.