Destiny

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” - Martin Buber -

 

I discovered that writing (putting my experiences and thoughts on  ‘paper’), has become some sort of a passion for me. But it hasn’t become easier, on the contrary.
Two weeks ago on a Thursday we had a small get-together in our sector 48 trainee house. That evening many said that they read my blog and they thought it was breathtaking, out of this world and life-changing. They didn’t say it in those exact wordings but I got the feeling that when they said my blog is very good, this is what they meant.
Now, the pressure is on. People have expectations. Result: Writer’s Block!!

Let’s try it anyway. Luckily my cousin Roel, who is in Nepal right now, is also keeping a blog and he writes with a lot of passion. He motivates me. I take out my little pink notebook which my sister gave to me and see what I’ve written down. In this notebook I describe what I’ve seen each day in a few small words, just as a reminder for later so that I’m able to relive each and every day in India when I feel the need for it.

One thing I definitely won’t forget is my work at Banyan Tree School. You remember me saying I took an extra job as a ‘spoken English teacher’ to a class of mainly female teachers? Perhaps the best part of this new job is getting to know the Indian women. Not in the sense of finding a partner, but in the sense of finding out how these women live their lives in this still male-dominated country.
In my opinion, the best way to learn about a new culture is by talking to the people and let them explain how their daily lives look like. I’ve already talked with a lot of Indian people about our cultural differences but 99% of these people were men. It feels like I only heard half of the story so that’s why it is so interesting to hear from all these female teachers.

The writer’s block ends not so surprisingly at the next weekend trip. Friday (February 11th) at around 11 in the evening, we leave for Dharamshala, or better said: McLeod Ganj, home of the Dalai Lama. The Tibetan government-in-exile is situated there and so are a lot of Tibetan refugees. Besides tourists, like us, a lot of people also go there to study Tibetan Buddhism and culture. If only I had the time to do this…
Before going I read that the town has an average elevation of 2082 metres. Yessss! I want to do things here I cannot do in the Netherlands. And being in a beautiful mountainous area is one of them. Did you know that the highest ‘mountain’ in my country is about 333 meters high, and that we have to share it with the Belgians and Germans?

Our journey doesn’t start off well. The taxi we ordered is not as spacious as the one we used for Rishikesh. I’m right next to the driver whose English is very poor. My backpack is on my lap and I cannot move my legs. To make it even worse, the driver doesn’t allow me to fall asleep! He needs someone to talk to so that he doesn’t fall asleep either. Therefore I keep my eyes open but there’s no talking. How can I hold a proper conversation when the only Hindi words I know are types of food I read from the menu a few times each week?
Anyway, we arrive at McLeod Ganj at around 5 in the morning, earlier than expected. They allow us to stay at the hotel we only booked for the next day. As we are a bit up north and in the mountains, it is ‘rather chilly’. I wear all my clothes I brought along and go to sleep. 3 hours later we wake up, red-nosed by the cold, to discover we have a great view from our hotel room of a snow-capped mountain. Energy fills my body.

We walk along the calm and peaceful streets until we found ourselves in a nice Tibetan café for our well-deserved breakfast.  The food is inside, energy level now is through the roof. Some of our group arrive a bit later (girls) for breakfast but I’m too eager to explore more of the city so I’m not going to wait any longer. We decide to meet each other later at the main square, which is nothing more than a small junction between roads and paths. Me and Martin, my equally adventurous Slovakian roommate, start roaming the streets for that one special picture. And suddenly, there he is! The Dalai Lama! Just buying some fruits and vegetables on the streets. Hmm, maybe it’s a look-a-like… You’ll be the judge.

After walking a bit uphill and being chased back down by some pretty aggressive monkeys, we meet up with the others and make our way to the Tsuglag Khang, the Dalai Lama’s temple. First impression: simple. Some kind of disappointment goes through my mind. That’s the danger of being spoiled with the image of the Golden Temple in Amritsar. It creates such high expectations for every  ‘religious’ place that comes after. Quickly I decide to eliminate this thought, not being too focused on the buildings but start looking at the people and what they do. That’s more like it.

I see old ladies performing some kind of ritual by lying faced-down on a plank, getting up, putting their folded hands in the air, and lying down on the plank again. I ask some Tibetan-looking people how many times they do this. ‘It depends on the person. Some do it 200 times, some do it 300 times. Whatever you like.’ Impressive. Then I enter one of the rooms and I get captivated by a huge painting of the Wheel of time (Kalachakra), which regards time as cyclical and consisting of repeating ages. Then I notice something else. Around all the gods/mythical persons/don’t know what they are, there are cookies and juice packages and what not. They are the cheap brands I see every day at the market. Later I’m being told these are offers from the people. Whatever you offer, it will be stalled next to these figures for a while.

All around the rooms there are so-called prayer wheels which contain several thousand mantras. The Buddhists walk a few times round, in a clockwise direction, and spin every prayer wheel. Of course I do the same.

I’m describing too many things of the trip and I can’t wait to share with you the moment which messed up my mind. So let’s fast-forward.  We found ourselves walking a Kora (ritual circuit).

Colourful flags and mantras all around, great views over one of the valleys, impressive temples, loads of prayer wheels, 1 cow, some beggars whom I kindly give 10 rupees with great thankful smiles as a result and an empty stomach after all this walking. Let’s have some lunch! I take out my travel Bible to see if there are any nice places nearby. I find one within reasonable distance and once we arrive at the restaurant it appears to  be closed. Ok, no big deal, we’ll look for another place. And then the moment we get back on the streets again it happens…

I SEE SOMEONE I KNOW

Let me explain. In the corner of my eye I see two blond women walking down the stairs and I already know one of them is her. I double check and indeed, it’s Tove from Sweden, who I got to know during my time in Madrid. A friend, a classmate and a fellow Erasmus student. She’s together with her mother.
We look at each other for a second or two and then realize this is really happening. Oh my god, what a coincidence! What are the odds! We talk a bit, click some pictures, everything happens in a blur to me. This is so strange. Meeting each other in this huge country, in the same place, in the same street and it all depended on a matter of seconds. I keep thinking: ‘If the restaurant had been open I might have never seen her.’ Is this what they call destiny? The next hours my mind is going in overdrive. I just cannot believe it!

The next day; waking up red-nosed again. This day is all about going further into the mountains. It’s raining a lot but that doesn’t stop me. I’m from Holland, I was born in the rain. Again, Martin is the only one who takes on the adventure with me for which I’m very grateful. We experience amazing views, take amazing pictures and just feel amazing. One of those days that I’m very happy to be travelling and not stuck in that flat country of mine.

The weekend has been wonderful. McLeod Ganj is peaceful and unique with its Tibetan-Indian community. One weekend was too short to experience everything the city and its surroundings have to offer, but it was yet another trip that made me think.

Some random thoughts on the way back:
Time flies. I stay the same but my ideas about life are changing.
I never really believed in anything, just rationality. But this weekend I was being pushed in the direction of believing in destiny.
Maybe it’s destiny that brought me to India. Is that the answer to one of my questions I had in Rishikesh? If so,what am I going to find here? My future occupation, the love of my life, change in attitude? Or an encounter with someone who can open my eyes with just a few words. I think I will find the answer in Varanasi. Every week I think about this place a few times. It’s in my mind, like India was a few months ago, and Madrid a few years before.
Some minutes later the rationalist in me takes over again. I know a lot of international people and maybe some of them were also very nearby  while I was visiting other countries throughout the years, but I missed them then.
It does make me wonder though…

Tip for today: If you ever experience a writer’s block… just go to India

                                                                                    and take me with you.