Since my last post I've been chilling out in Mcleodganj, current home of the exiled Dalai Lama. Although we spent some of our time her being sick (a sad but almost inevitable part of travel in a country like India) we've had some great times too, stationed in the foothills of the Himalayas (or Himalaya, as I've heard is more correct).
On the way back from the doctors there we got a stunning view of the Himalayas (Himalaya), rising like a white jagged wall, the tops piercing an emergent full moon. It was beautiful. We also had our first car accident - a low speed one at what seemed to be Saturday rush hour, where a car was pulling out into a busy street and hit my door as we drove in front of it. He'd be clearly at fault in NZ, but after some yelling outside our window, some hand holding and calming down, our driver moved on; it seemed it was declared that neither were at fault.
On one of our first mornings back into a little better health, we took a walk, thinking we were headed to the Dalai Lama's residence. We decided to go down the path where everyone else was going, mostly murmuring old Tibetans, hunch over, and prayer beads slowly filtering through their fingers. It was a magical place. A slight mist, piles of white painted rocks, carved rocks with Tibetan inscriptions, and hundreds of prayer flags in the trees. A truly quiet place for contemplation.
We rounded a corner, and there were monkeys, birds, cows and dogs; it felt like the Garden of Eden. we kept walking, past beggars, past mantra wheels, and back into reality. We walked passed a temple which we were unsure about, and went back up the hill. We missed the Dalai Lama's, but found a surprising place which was almost worthy of the millennia-old Tibetan culture.
The next day we set out again, and this time we found His Holiness's residence. Right at the end of the path, where we walked past. Inside were people lining up with green passports, getting large pink ballot papers, and placing them in big green metal boxes. The Tibetan Government, in exile after the Chinese took over around 1950, was having primary elections.
Inside the temple were mantra wheels, statues of Buddhist deities, and hundreds of volumes and ancient science, wisdom and scriptures. I always enjoy temples and churches, no matter which religion they are from. They are great places for contemplation and stillness, something we desperately need in modern, Western, atheist lives. If I could, I'd have my own local place, which I could go to every morning, or every week, and just do some meditation. Although the meaning and my knowledge of so much of this stuff is so limited, these places do inspire something deep within you - and it is especially amazing to see so many exiled Tibetans, striving to minimise suffering of themselves and others, but suffering so much under the Chinese rule that has tried to crush their culture, and take their land for its incredible natural resources.
It's also inspiring to see so much ancient knowledge and wisdom in a place like that. So much knowledge, unknown to us in the West, in New Zealand, and yet so much value in it. Maybe it possesses answers for us all in the modern age, an age when we desperately need to change course and stop taking from future generations. The Dalai Lama certainly thinks so.
