I’ve been homesick for a number of days now and I can’t seem to shake it. India is an incredibly diverse country and different from the U.S. in almost every way imaginable and therefore has much to offer the visitor who is eager to stick around for a while and really soak it in. I am tired because what it has to offer is unrelenting on the senses almost every single moment. Unlike Morocco, India is not reserved about “bearing it’s soul”. I’m really glad that I came here for the experience, but it has really worn me down as a single traveler. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't come back on a shoestring budget. Moreover, I’ve been out of the U.S., off and on, for over 3 years now and I think after 3 and half weeks in India my cultural sensitivity is starting to wane. The most patience-draining things here include car horns and noise in general, ubiquitous filth and the ever confusing Indian head wobble- which can mean almost anything from yes to maybe to I don’t know. When I get a head wobble response to a very straight forward question I usually say, “so… yes?” Of course as an answer I will surely get another fun and entertaining head wobble equal to the first one.
I’m in the state of Punjab now witnessing the ways of the subculture of the Sikhs and going to see their holiest shrine, the Golden Temple. Next, I’m headed up to the home of the Dali Lama in Dharamsala. Should be a nice change of pace up in the foothills of the Himalayas. There’s no way I’ll make it to Tibet now with all the protests and police blockades, but hopefully the exile refuge of the Dali Lama will prove an interesting alternative. And it should definitely be a peaceful respite to the loud and relentless cities that I’ve known so far.
Tomorrow I’m taking a 3 hour train and then a 3 hour bus to Dharamsala. Turns out I’ll be able to stay there for 2 days. Then I’m taking a 16 hour train down to Corbett Tiger Reserve to get a glimpse of some nature/wildlife in India- which should be awesome.
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So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald . . . striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one—big hitter, the Lama—long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. And do you know what the Lama says? "Gunga galunga . . . gunga . . . gunga galunga." So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consiousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.
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