Jule, leavin' Ladakh

Jule (pronounced joo-lay, written in the Lonely Planet’s India) means Hello, Goodbye, Thank You, and Please in the Ladakhi language. All I learned in the past 7 weeks is Sit! Stop! No! Come! Write! Speak! Do you understand me or not? That’s all you need to know when you teach Ladakhi kids. When I meet locals from Choglamsar and tell them I teach at the primary school, they think and ask ‘they’re naughty aren’t they?’ I roll my eyes and give them a look that read ‘uh…yeah.’ They understand me.

I met 3 Ladakhi men, Ompo, Dorjai, and Tsewang (I call him Sam). I feel really lucky that I met them. They helped me in so many ways, they treated me as their younger sister. Dorjai helped me find the teaching job, there was no way I would have taught at the school if it wasn’t for him. Ompo gave me good laughs and forced me a lot of times to drink and smoke. Sam is just funny, just funny to look at sometimes. Anyways, lots of thanks to them for making my Ladakh trip memorable. I don’t know if I will come back to Ladakh during this trip, but if I do I will travel more. I barely visited any famous sights. I was too focused (and chose to be) on teaching. But to me, I’m glad I was; I painted an entire classroom, bought a mini first-aid kit, created a math system for the older kids by painting small stones in different colors, and drew extra learning charts and flashcards. Most of all, I got the kids to LIKE me. On my last day, they were running after the car I rode off in, screaming “Goodbye! See you tomorrow! I love you!” Mmph.



A Muslim man asked me out, on a date. I didn’t realize this until later on. You see, first off he asked me to lunch and I didn’t get any vibe that he was interested, so I said Yes, after all he was also Dorjai’s childhood friend, so I knew if the guy did anything, my psuedo big brother would come and hunt him down. So anyways, I never spoke to that guy again cause I was busy teaching, then after one month, he came to the school. He came to the freakin school! And asked me out again to reassure that we had a lunch to go to. I felt a little annoyed because he did this in front of the kids, but I brushed it off cause it was my own irritants. He said he’ll come on another day and we’ll go to lunch, I was like Yeah Ok Whatever. I was very clear that I wasn’t interested. 2 days later, he came to my school and said “Hi, so when are we going to dinner?”
“Dinner? What happened to lunch?”
“I’m Muslim, and during this time we fast in the day and eat at night.” SLICK, I thought.
“Well, I guess so.” He then told me he would come the next day to my hotel at 7:15. Ok Whatever. The next day came around and I dreaded my ‘date’ that was going to happen, everyone was making fun of me, Dorjai, the teachers, they were all saying that he might propose to me, lavish me with all the expensive food and compliments. Ugh. Anyway, I wanted to upload some photos online and didn’t want to wait around at the hotel, so I told reception if they see a Muslim guy walk in looking for me, tell him I would be across the street at the Traveller’s Paradise (Dorjai’s tourist agency that I hang out at everyday). 7:15 comes around and I didn’t feel like going to the hotel to see if he was there, if he was there, reception would definitely had seen him and told him that I was across the street. 7:20, 7:30, 7:45, 8:00 pm. YES! No one came to the office for me.

I came to a conclusion that…he didn’t come at all. But EVERYONE KNEW he did come, but not all the way to the reception, and saw that I wasn’t waiting anywhere and he left. So…I stood him up. My first date in India…and I stood him up. He didn’t come to the school the past 3 days, and everyone was disappointed because they wanted to hear juicy details of the things he might have said to me to persuade a marriage. Ew.

When this day passes, I will be on a 16-ish hour bus ride to Manali, then a 10 hour bus ride to Dharamsala, we’ll see what awaits me there. New morning, new night, new place.

Currently in Ladakh...

My Ladakhi students are insane. Probably the naughtiest kids I had ever taken care of. When they stand up and walk around during my teaching, I tell them to sit back down (with my “I’m serious” face expression). Instead of obeying, they smile at me and shake their heads ‘no,’ and start to run out the classroom, and when they see me chasing them, they run faster! Our school property is big, so imagine me chasing a little kid in circles, not to mention that I’m pissed off and the other kids are laughing at me through the window. I know they’re chanting his name “Stenzin! Stenzin!” I am officially the teacher they like to mess around with.

Ah hah! Not anymore! I figured out a way for them to listen to me without hitting them with a stick (very normal here), like the other teachers. By the way, I am completely against the idea of abusing children in school, especially someone else's kid. Anyways, I use an empty water bottle. Sometimes when I play with the kids, I use the empty water bottle and bop their heads for fun. But when they’re being rude, or hitting other kids, I bop their heads just a bit harder. The look on their faces is priceless, a confused expression like “hmm...that kind of hurt.” Now, they do their work, less screaming, less violence with other kids, but still…they’re untameable. I only use the water bottle method when they punch their classmates, which I have grown to not tolerate at all. Also, their farts smell horrible.

I saw the Dalai Lama 4 times. I went to one of his teachings not too far from Leh. The rest of the sightings were of him walking out of mosques, or drive-bys. I carpooled with some people to his teaching session and got to sit in the front of the stage, which is reserved for foreigners. I know…it doesn’t make sense. But anyhow, it was a great view and learned a lot. It was freakin cold in the morning, even raining, then around 8:30am, it got HOT. All in all, it was an interesting experience seeing the Dalai Lama, I saw a living God, I SAW GOD!

he's so adorable.

Just to add something little to this post, and a shout-out to my homie Sal (send me a scan of those polaroids) , is a mini-feed of our gmail chat.

Sal: HOT WINGS! i passed by it yesterday and thougth of you

haha

me: oh god, i'm having great food here, but i miss it so much

Sal: i was like...when steph gets back, we're going straight to hot wings from the airport

me: i'm eating REAL indian food, kinda cool

DalaiLamaSightingFoundWorkTemporarilyRacist

There were 3 people in my life that I always wanted to see: Michael Jackson, Oprah Winfrey, and the Dalai Lama. Guess who I saw yesterday? Come on, take a wild guess. YEAH! I know, THE DALAI LAMA! The Dalai-freakin-Lama. I'm in Leh, the Ladakh region in northern India. It's a close resemblance of Tibet. I didn't go to Tibet because it is completely closed off and the only way to get there is if you book a tour (not my style) and pay over $100 a day. I decided to go to 'Little Tibet,' instead.

I found out a week ago that he will be here to do teachings and I thought 'how lucky' I was. By chance I woke up early yesterday morning, walked to the markets and noticed a big crowd along the streets. I knew he was going to drive by. I waited for another 15 minutes in the crowd and there he was...in the passenger seat of a car driving by, slowly. I couldn't believe it, the Dalai Lama was literally 3 ft away from me, I waved, and he waved back.

Leh.

I've been here for a week, pretty much resting because it's so peaceful here. A while ago in Srinagar I met up with another volunteer from Nepal, Ingar face (Dutch). We've been hanging out this whole time. It took 2 days to travel by bus to Leh.

Ingar face.

A few days ago I started researching for volunteer opportunities. I went into one travel agency and they helped me find a teaching job in a village called Choglamsar, 15 minutes from Leh. This school has 4 rooms, extremely small with 20 or so children. There's only one table in 2 of the rooms and the other rooms are completely empty, and we sit on the floor. I teach nursery and Class 2, age 5-8. In a week or so I will live with a Ladakhi family, I have to experience living in a village. I plan to be here for 5 weeks. By the end, I hope to paint inside at least one of the rooms. Most of these childrens parents are farmers.

They only look sweet.

Okay, what I'm about to say might be offensive, if you are offended...fuck off. There are sooooooo many French and Isrealis. I mean...A LOT, to the point where I can't stand them anymore. It's like being in a club full of mentally challenged people with whistles and bag pipes, you don't want to hate them but you just can't stand hearing them.

Crazy night in Delhi

Okay so, for my going away party in Nepal I had one hour of sleep prior to my departure to India. It was a great night, good times. Oh yeah...Delhi. I got in around 11ish am and took a taxi to Connaught Place. Good thing the taxi driver took me to a tourist agency without telling me, cause there I met Ranbir the boss, that made my first impression of Delhi 'not so bad.'

I wanted to get out of Delhi fast and get to Northern India and find volunteer work. Found out that it would take 4 days to travel by bus to Leh (Ladakh region). Fuck that, I was hungover and had one hour of sleep the night before and I wanted something quick. So he recommended me to take a flight to Srinagar and take a bus from there to Leh, which is cheaper and shorter. I took it.

That night I couldn't sleep, it was so fucking hot. HOT I tell you, I probably had 3 hours of sleep that night. Next morning I went on a day trip to Agra, where the Taj Mahal is. Got there, took my tourist picture, and then left back to Delhi. Now...I know you're waiting for me to talk about it...here's where the craziness starts...

I'm in my room watching the Discovery Channel (in Hindi) and the assistant from the tour agency knocks on my door to tell me that Ranbir wants to see me. (the agency is across from the guesthouse) I walked inside and Ranbir goes "Hiiiii, how was your trip to Agra?! Good yeah?" Let me tell you that Ranbir is about 5"5, mid-30's (but looks older), nice belly, really long chest hair, and has a big smile.
"Yeah it was nice, it looked like a postcard."
"Good Good, want a beer? I work late and I don't like work."
"Um nah, I'm really tired."
"Okay, juice!" he tells the boy to get juice from the market. Ranbir gets on his computer and he turns the monitor to face me, I see a list of women's names and age and what they look for in a man. He tells me, "I'm on Yahoo Personals, I have many girls, see? 30 matches out of 50, very good."
"You're on Yahoo Personals?!! Have you met any of these girls yet?"
"Only on the phone, but one time, I called and her mother says hello, then she ask who I am, what job, this, that. Then I say 'oh okay thank you' and I hang up, just like that! Ha!" We get our juice and I gulp it down immediately because I'm not sure how long I wanted to stay at the office.
"Have you seen this Arch yet?" Pointing to one of the over-size posters on the wall, was an arch with the word INDIA etched on the front.
"No, I haven't seen it, only the fort."
"Let's go! Around this time, what time now?" he looks at his watch, "9 o'clock is now, is when couples, families, and friends go to this arch to drink, eat, and just have fun. I'm alone here and I don't want to work, why work? Let's go, for one hour yeah?" After a long thought, I said "Sure, why not?" His assistant had already started Ranbir's car to get the AC goin. We got in and went to a liquor store to buy a couple of beers. We started drinking and he showed me around Delhi, I saw the largest temples, and the business sections.

During our ride, he plays around with his stereo, Hindi was mostly played. Then he was looking through his CD collection and told me he had a very good English CD with great songs. He found it and put it in. First song, was "Singh is King," a Hindi rap song featuring Snoop Doggy Dogg. No joke.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dpQJPvplTk

I knew this song when I was in Nepal, they would play this video all the time on tv. Just to make Ranbir feel more comfortable, I sang with him, and did the Arsenio whoop whoop arm movement. The next song I knew right away just from the first 3 seconds. I laughed so hard. The Macarena. The CD kept skipping and Ranbir was tapping on his stereo with his fingers to make it work, as if he was punishing a toy poodle on the head when it peed on his Kashmir carpet.

Second round of beers, we go to another liquor store, and this time he got peanuts! We drank while driving, and every now and then he would grab my beer and hide it whenever he would cross a toll or if he saw a police car. He got phone calls coming from the agency saying that there were people at the office wanting to do business, so we had to go back. At the agency, the assistant told him that he took care of everything and his customers left. Ranbir said,"OK, everything is fine, we can still party yeah? He then reaches in his pocket and takes out a baggie. I asked what it was, and he said it was charras, natural hash leaves.

"Ooh, I want to try it!"
"Yeah, okay then!" He calls his assistant to make us one out of a cigarette. The assistant came back with the cig and we smoke it. We talked for almost an hour about NOTHING, I can't remember what we talked about. The only thing I remember was telling him that I couldn't feel anything from the charra, but then 20 minutes later, I told him that my face started to tickle. Then he started talking about nothing and mid-way, he said his face was tickling and we started laughing hysterically.
"Want to go see tree?"
"What?"
"Tree, of what we smoke now." I look at the clock and it's about 1am, and next to it shows the temperature. 39C (102 F). "It will only be 15 minutes, we go get, and come back."
"Sure, why not?" We drive about 15 minutes to a deserted area, he finds the plants and grabs them, all of a sudden it was raining hard. He opens my side of the door and screams, "It's raining! MONSOOOON! Come out! Much cooler!"
"No!"
"Why?"
"Mosquitos!!"
"Aiiiyah, mosquitos everywhere!" He closes my door and comes back to the driver seat, he puts the plants in the back seat, and the aroma of charras bloomed.


that's his hand playing with the stereo.

He said he lived near by and asked if I wanted to check out his house, I say 'sure, why not?' Another couple of minutes and we approach a driveway, I see this old man laying down on a cot inside the opened gate garage.
"Opp, that my father." Ranbir says, he immediately goes into reverse very quickly, "I am drinking and smoking, can't let my father see me, nope nope nope. Let's go eat, I hungry now. I know a good Indian restaurant."
"Okay yeah, let's go." We went to the liquor store again to get more beers, and listen to more cheesy music. This time we bumped Venga Boys We like to Party. The CD was skipping again and he says "play play play play play play, pleeeeease play play play, ha...he's sleeping...come on..come on...play play play, play baby." The song resumes and we continue to sing and dance to the restaurant.

When we got there, I was wasted. We eat and went back to the guesthouse and I look at the temperature, and it was 34 (93 F) at 3AM!!! I spent 6 HOURS with this man. 6 hours. We said goodnight and I went to sleep. Results the next morning: hung over and sick, I am not smoking dried leaf hash again.

Namaste Nepal Namaste

I can't believe it...I still can't believe it. I'm leaving tomorrow. It feels so weird. The past 4 months flew by like it was nothing. I'm very proud of myself of what I've done here. I can say though, that I am ready to leave Nepal. I did everything I wanted to do. I taught monks, helped out keeping street kids in school, and shared my life with orphans.

Last weekend I went rafting with a few volunteers, that was the last touristy thing I am going to do. Great fun! Then, I had a momo (nepali dumplings) party with my boys at the house. I was really surprised how all the boys participated. I bought all the ingredients to make the dough and the meat, they mix it up at the butcher shop, and then we started folding the momos. We made small momos, big momos, chinese momos, nepali momos, and different shaped momos. I was really impressed how they came out, I think it's the best momos I tasted here.



I love what I'm doing now. I waited for so long for this trip to start and now I'm going to my 2nd destination. This is why I like traveling; staying in one country for months, learning the language, building friendships; with the bakery shop owner, the restaurant busboys, the bar keeper, the cooks and didi's at all the houses, and my neighbors. What I will miss the MOST, are my boys, my monks, Daryan (kaaraazzzyy bitch), Caroline (miss you!), Conor (you're such a DICK), Indu Didi, and the rain in the late afternoon.

I'm going to miss Nepal. The only thing special about Nepal that will make me want to come back is the people. I will miss my boys and will be hard to say goodbye to them tonight. But we all know that there has to be an end. It was hard to say goodbye to my monks, but I know I will visit them in India the next few months. India is very close to Nepal, I can't see why I couldn't visit, even as a holiday. I'm making a promise to myself that I will come back.

This is only the beginning. It really is...my first stop and the beginning of something extravagant. I feel like something is waiting for me in India, something big. How long will I stay in India? The answer is I Don't Know (sorry dad). I am absolutely free.

By the way, Namaste is a respectful way of saying Hi, Hello, and sometimes...as a goodbye.

Good times with my monks

Last thursday was my last day of teaching the Tibetan monks. They went back to India yesterday. I have been teaching them for 7 weeks. I will miss them.

It took me by surprise when they told me the last day of teaching would be a week earlier. I only had 2 nights to prepare for their exams. On the day of the exam, it was hot, muggy, and tense. The kids were really nervous taking the exams. I saw some of them PRAYING before class started. They did very well on their exams and I was extremely proud of them. During lunch, I walked around the school and one child came up to me, and handed me a folded piece of paper. I opened it and it was a letter, thanking me. So CUTE! Then more kids ran in and gave me their letters, it was so great to read, I will save these letters forever.



After the exams it was playtime. Yay! No more class! Few of them were playing football (soccer) and most of us talked on the porch. The younger boys sang and danced for me. For dinner, we had Thukpa, which is a thick flat noodle soup with vegetables. After dinner, all the kids gathered in the big classroom. Tashi, the owner of the school, told me the kids had something to say in English, they all said "Thank you Miss for teaching us!" Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Then, Tashi gave a speech, appreciating me for volunteering and going through the awful transportation to teach his monks. He pulled out a Mala sash and put it over my neck. Then presented a Buddha statue as a gift (definitely sending it home cause I cannot travel that heavy thing in my backpack), a gray pashmina (to wear when I visit northern India), a DVD about Limi (a town where the monks are from), and a thank you letter with all the monks signatures and a photo of all them. I wasn't emotional, there were smiles everywhere. As I was leaving on a motorbike back to home, all the kids were screaming on the top of their little lungs "GOODBYE MISS!!!! GOODBYEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Mala Ceremony, any type of thank you gift always includes a sash (called a mala).

Sunday morning, Tashi called me and invited me to a pilgrimage. They picked me up at my bus stop and traveled for 40 minutes up north into the mountains. We went to a monastery that once belonged to Pema Simbawa, from the 7th century. In history, it was said that Simbawa was an Indian monk that brought Buddhism into Tibet. We walked up a long flight of stairs and reached to the top of the hill. All the monks gathered in a circle and started chanting.



Myself and a few others went further up the hill to hang prayer flags. After an hour we had a picnic and did more rituals. One of the rituals, each of us grabbed a finger-full of flour, lined up in a circle, and looked at each other. Tashi raised his arm slowly and said "ohhhh," then everyone else copied, after 3 more times all the older monks released their flour and went "Aiiiiiiiiii!" and then the rest of us screamed "Aiiiiiiiii!" and released the flour, the flour was blown away onto the people facing east and was covered with flour. Everyone was laughing hysterically, I will not forget that moment.

monsoontoenailsfallingoff4monthslovingit

I finished the book "Everything is Illuminated," by Jonathan Safran Foer, I deeply enjoyed it and was fond of his eccentric writing style. The title of this post is inspired by him. Anyways...

So yeah the monsoon is here, it's no longer friggin hot, humid, muggy, sticky, annoying, sweaty, polluted, and dusty. It is now overcast, rainy, muddy, cloudy, sticky, humid, muggy, annoying, polluted, but cooler. I don't know which I would rather deal with. Either way I am dirty and have to take a shower in the late afternoon. Okay wait...I made up my mind, I prefer the hot days, the reason for this sudden decision is because I take an hour bus ride at least 8 times a week to teach in Bouddha, the rain slows down the roads, which makes my ride sometimes almost 2 hours. 2 hours in a microbus (minivan) filled with 15-20 people (sometimes people sitting on your lap, or the other way around), hot, sticky, damp, stuffy, annoying, cramped, and sweaty. But hey, I'm paying 20 cents for this bus ride.

Teaching is great, the monks are actually learning from me! But they're learning so well that it is hard for me to prepare each day for a new lesson. The past month I was working on a major photo album that took a lot of my time, I had to have EVERY child in this album (325 kids). However, it was a fun project to do because I was able to take artsy photographs and the chance to meet every single child of Umbrella for them to sign their name in it. So it was quite difficult to balance teaching and my work here at Umbrella organization. But I finished the album! I was proud of myself, I even finished it right when Jacky (creator of Umbrella) of the organization said 'goodbye' to everyone. I couldn't have finished it without some help from other volunteers, but still...I was so relieved. When I handed the album to him he said he would look at it when he gets home, him and his wife (both created Umbrella) have been very emotional the past week. I left shortly after to have dinner with my boys and found out that night that Jacky called a few minutes after I left to say 'thank you from the bottom of his heart,' and he was emotional on the phone. Exactly what I was aiming for.

3 of my toenails are dead and I ripped them off. This is what trekking in rented shoes will do to your toe nails. I painted over the healthy ones and left the others un-painted...primarily to disgust people when they look at them because it somewhat pleases me when they are disgusted, and besides it's their fault for looking at them in the first place.

I extended my visa for one more month and currently looking for flights to China. I have nothing to go home for...I can stay anywhere as long as I want. There is a high possibility, which I am positive, that I will come home a lot later than I said I would. Who knows...I may come home in a year, 2 years, fuck...5 years, I may even be a volunteer for life, we will see. I am not ready to leave in a few days (my original plan), it would be too weird. Plain and simple: I am not ready. I just began teaching and it would be too short of an experience, and I also feel like my boys at Umbrella really like me now.

The past few weeks has been the most busiest. Past couple of days I needed a retreat to the mountains. I went to Nagarkot with a couple of other volunteers, Daryan (American) and Doc (Irish), a few hours above Kathmandu, it was rainy and cloudy, but I didn't care, I just had to get out of the city. I spent the whole day napping, listening to music, played Irish Monopoly, didn't even finish Monopoly, reading, sitting outside of the balcony watching the clouds hover the mountains as if I was living in slow-motion, smoking (sorry people...everyone here smokes, can't help it) talking about nonsense, talking to the dog, played home-made Scategories, sipping milk coffee, and looking through photos in our cameras. Now I am back in the city, writing this late blog, and I'm about to see my boys and have dinner with them. Cheerio.