India: Day 7
Ten hours of sleep and a hot shower was welcomed after the long travel that consumed the prior day.
After a brief breakfast atop the roof of our hotel, we ventured into the tiny town that makes up McCleod Ganj. Five streets hug this Himalayan mountain, weaving over ridges and providing access to the adjacent villages. In the heart of town, the one lane roads are paved and sandwiched by fading store fronts. When the asphalt fades into dirt you have left the center of commercial activity.
The local economy appears to be dependent on a few services and a dozen products sold to tourists. For ten dollars you can have a one hour massage and for fifty you can hire a private driver to escort you to the local sites for an entire day. Of the several hundred stores there are only several types: Tibetan artifacts, travel and clothes. Each sells the exact same items for different prices. I imagine one company supplies all of these competitive stores, sending a single truck through the treacherous mountain roads up to the local town.
Tibetan monks are commonplace here. They are easily identified by their signature red and gold robes. Despite wearing the same draping uniform, their individuality shines through as each wears very different types of shoes: black leather with a silver buckle, water shoes, sneakers, sandals, hiking boots or anything else you can imagine. In exile, they live integrated througout the town, but congregate at the Dalai Lama's palace and temple, which is positioned a short five minute walk from the village center.
The palace is serene but simple, providing the local congregation with a place of worship that is complete with sitting cushions, traditional art and their standard musical instruments. They have brought Tibet to India.
Tourists invade their ceremonies, observing in a manner that ensures frequent distractions. Chants are complimented by the rustling of newcomers getting settled and the clicking of cameras.
In the evening, we watched thousands of people march from the town center to the Dalai Lama's palace carrying candles and rhythmically reciting a refrain. At first, I assumed this was a special ceremony relating to the recent unrest in Tibet relating to protests against the Chinese - a focus of international news. However, the hotel owner informed me that this ceremony occurs several times a week.
The river of golden flames continued to flow for nearly an hour. As curious tourists we followed shortly after, arriving to see thousands of monks and their supporters from around the world seated in the courtyard of the temple. Many held candles as all watched clips from CNN about the Chinese occupation of their homeland on a portable projector screen.
While many of these clips are probably watched frequently, tonight was especially emotional for these people given the eruption of violence that took place just a few hours before in Nepal. One elderly women aggressively cried while cursing the Chinese in her native tongue. The majority of the crowd cheered and chanted as they watched footage of protesters raising the Tibetan flag, making speeches or marching into walls of Chinese troops. The head-shots of the more than 100 Tibetan political prisoners drew applause even though I was informed that many of them had long since died from torture in prisons.
When the rally ended, its attendants chanted well rehearsed rally cries. One man would yell something and the hundreds of people walking near him would reply in unison.
Before going to bed, we stopped in at our new favorite restaurant for a cup of tea. It is a restaurants by Tibetans for Tibetans, but they graciously welcomed and served us. The mood is somber for the first hour as the families that surround the cheap table clothes reflect on the current events. However, shortly before we left a two year old Tibetan girl emerged from a late night nap, playfully greeted all of her guests and drew warm smiles from all of the locals. Seeing the future, may help them temporarily forget part of the past.
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