Count and Spun - Prayers Reels from ... Dharamsala India Spring ‘95

Inspiration: a house in the rice paddies - or maybe on prayer flagged slopes - seemed like a dream worth pursuing in jan’95 when I left vancouver to join lensman dave for a northern india survey. laptoped letters flowed home from inside our heated dharamsala hotel room ..

Jan 29 - Varanassi - midday roof while the yogi lodge locals repose blow. Surprisingly cool winter - Delhi sported vests and my toque rarely left my head. out here in the sea of humanity life can never really cool off. nor come to a boil long or hot enough to kill any germs. Even with the millions gathering down the road at Kumbu Mele - Shiva dropped a few goodies at the junction of the Yamaha and Ganges rivers and every 12 years the masses gather to party and bath. Imagine all those leaves of absence without pay .....

Kites fly contrary to the order of the birds. Crows and some seagulls even - the Ganges is over 2 k wide at this point. “I saw a dolphin leap” - mind you, he had been watching bodies burn at the Mira Ghat for a few hours. Inhaling the sandal wood. Watching the limbs consumed by flames. These most holy waters invite strange company.

Dave choreographed first night mindshift - we rode separate autorickshaws from the airport and miraculously stumbled upon each other one hour later in downtown Delhi after a well choreographed but predictably badly implemented extortion attempt. Seems little change since trekking respites in 1983. Dynamite food - paying for it today with stomach pains. Enter the lassi and abundant curd. Eat to heal the wounds of eating. And harden the stomach for miles more dal bat. Tread lightly. And colour with a little paranoia - midnite passport checks by the army boys in Paharganj among the transients.

like the kites I may trust the winds too much.

Jan 30 dawn dipping Hindu enthusiasts in the holy waters. Happy birthday to me.

Jan 31 Window shopping - India has it's moments. One particularly good vantage point for looking at naked men is from the trains. Just did an overnight ride, and I spent as much time as possible hanging out the window. The smoke rivals china.

Bodies bound in bright orange silk - queued down to the river for the last deep dip. Then on to the fire. Typically 5 or 6 pyres going each with its own collection of relatives monitoring the bodies journey to ash. tall buildings along the banks - colourful graffiti indicates that the high water mark at the peak of the Himalayan melting was 20 metres above us. it must get pretty crowded when all this shoreline disappears.

There's a whole row in the parlour of the Yogi Lodge sewing Canadian flags on their packs. Real one - not American wannabes - but of course they are eager to talk about developments in Nepal. How quickly we become travelers.

white washed roofs down below narrow alleys cluttered with bikes, cows and all manner of shit underfoot. Step out into the maze. Stop for a hot milk, maybe a deep fried sweet. India’s golden bears are very speedy - you know how I like to check out the local fare. Dave and I are exchanging kid stories and I'm thinking of a little hike up the cliff when the tide came in...

Sun drops red into the Ganges horizon. funeral pyres soon to burn the brightest. end of life for the luckiest of Hindus ... a privileged to go up in smoke by the waters edge.

Young boys tending the funeral pyres one picks up a skull and backbone out of the fire and skips it across the water. Hissssss! Briefly disturbing the reflection of Jupiter.

Feb 1 Sarnath. How do people live so close together? In India the equation is complicated by countless different races and colours. One interesting model is provided at Sarnath - Buddha delivered his first sermon here and laid down the precepts for the future faith of millions. Quiet delight among the omnipresent Indian hum of radios and autorickshaws. Even the vendors seem timid. The Tibetans, Burmese Thais and Japanese have each financed a temple in the vicinity and with it an interesting variety in monk uniforms.

Evening puja in the Japanese temple - an eclectic mix of non Japanese Buddhists go through the appropriate motions. Great loud drums, some very melodious vocal interjections, and a consistent chorus of Na Mon Ho Reng En Ko echoing a little room in downtown early 80’s Tokyo where Sandra and I explored Zen and other mysteries. An attentive audience of local kids are rewarded with candy - to think that the Catholics needed whiskey to tame the native Americans.

Feb 2. Vasanasi. Cruising the great ghats till the first pink glow and the gathering of early morning bathers. Escaping the crowds - out on the water - drifting - aimlessly.

The music never stops. We hear the drums not the dogs. Oh yes sometimes the ugly reality slips thru - watch out for the pervasive poop. Yield to cows. Nonetheless this country has a relentless beat of which Elvis would be proud. Last night we started with dinner at a hot underground 'cafe' eased us in on quiet tabla and sarod noodlings. Then up on the roof for a grapefruit diet - the man in the mosque serenading the flock and all others within range. Grabbed the compass and submerged - looking for a shortcut to the Burning Ghat. Stumbled on a chorus of old boys, harmonium and some hot cymbal hands. An hypnotic black key (F#) melody. A warm invitation to join the chorus. Almost convinced them to do "Thx for coming to the show"

Feb. 3 Something not unlike your flute. could be a subtle Elvis segue between Starve Your Granny and Two headed Baby. Wafting up around the next corner, beyond that big bull shadowed in the arch way. Investigate, but the music always eludes. Ulama's voice - but where are the loudspeakers? Prime Minister Rao pronounces from a million Varanasi TV's - but where are the livingrooms. Been inside a few old city stores - tight and bright. Behind this wave of commerce (read men) is the unsensed world of the household. Seen a few families bathing, and of course there is the burning end. But even that is only male relatives. Recounting great conquests, or smart moves. India the land of deals. And bad quality. Not to be understood, merely observed.

Suddenly a new pyre ignites and a breeze of fragrant sandalwood startles noses. For a moment eyes relax as an undernourished sense of smell feasts.

Nobody at the Yogi lodge appreciates the frequent monkey visits. I'd reconsider if they stole my laundry, but they seem to offer a nice overlap with nature. How the animal kingdom has adapted to the encroachment of the megacity. We are outta here soon, off to the mountains, Tibetan Buddhism, and maybe a little low level trekking. It won't be enough. but a chance to workout without the weights.

Three Japanese travelers are passing around a smoky chillum. Such a nice ritual to watch. Grapefruit diet enjoyed by many. Herbal heart the mantra of the vendors. A bowl for breakfast. Dave and I recount miles with Sandra, and where we have come since the last time we were here.

Feb. 5 - Indian Rail . Haven't found voice to my rhythms here yet, but these cars sure can sing. And the grapefruit diet of course can make a chorus out of a cowpie. Watch your step - it rained last night in Varanasi and we wound our way through the old city enroute to the train this AM sloshing through dubious puddles. Still the band plays on, the foot taps, the eyes cruise, slowly but inexorably across the landscape of vendors don't catch their eye or they'll take your arm. Actually there is no physical aggression here - real fear I remember at the hand of the merchants in the old city of Jerusalem. Just an inability to understand the word no. My patience remains steadfast.

Feb 6 Amritsar by the ring road circling the old city Golden Temple heart. Dare we fantasize about getting lift with a Sikh cab driver.

Been on holidays for 12 days now and it feels like the wind could pick up a little. SO we're blowin into Dalai Lama country to check out how to keep warm Tibetan style. Learning about the culture first hand - moving in not just moving through. Learning how to set up the instant office wherever I am. Here the challenge is to find electricity.

Eh! Coffee time. join me for acup? Back to a full diet of caffeine and grapefruits after a brief hiatus to mend the stress brought on by jet lag and too much curry. Predictably hit after about one week. Inshallah all the appropriate immunities are now in place.

Amritsar more reverent, and less India, with its obliging Sikhs.

Our host has taken my pen. Unrolling various national capitals in Punjabi - somehow Vancouver makes it on the list. Out come the pictures from Queen Elizabeth Park in the international section of this weekends Amritsar Sun/province. Making me feel connected. A nice sensation - I'm back on the drive looking for a coffee and a chat how about a walk around the track?

TV president of Pakistan - 50 km away in Lahore - spouting anti India Rhetoric. Once again. Last night chatted with a business man who has taken up the Bahai faith - "the Hindus and Moslems are too intolerant'. No war please until Wednesday when we will be safely off in Dharamsala.

Feb 8th. front seat cockpit heading north watching the Himalayas fill the sky at 1500 meters will be flirting with snow.

Feb 9th Dharamsala. Who could have imagined? on the other hand why not expect it? we are comfortably ensconced up high on the periphery of this centre of the Tibetan govt in exile. Got some volunteer work with the local hospital - a well managed and funded institution - helping to develop their AIDS education program. Lots of people speak Chinese - especially the many young new arrivals from NE Tibet. We've got fax and email dialogues going with folks around the world. nothing could be fina'.

Dave is rocking right along - of course he has many local connections which expedite our way in the door. And learning development speak. He uncovers a possible project involving the proposed but not yet implemented census - demographer extraordinaire at your service.

Already we are talking about a house on the mountain side - steep, great views, fine weather except July monsoons. Just a couple of rooms to entertain friends when they drop in - expect a much bigger crowd than I could ever have imagined in China. "Branch offices in Yogyakarta and Vancouver."

Feb. is a welcoming window - hoards of Western and Tibetan folks who show up for the March new years celebs have not yet arrived. Nonetheless I am picking up at least one good foreigner Amazing how things have come around since Sandra and I hiked these parts 11 years ago. Tracing that circle reveals some thoughtful deliberation, and some happy coincidence. Good luck, Good karma. Good initiative. I know what makes me happy these days so why not go for it! Fried momos dipped in chili vinegar. A pot of ginger tea. A pause to reflect out the window over paradise. No not paradise, just me place for now.

hot AM on the porch. Tsampa bread with peanut butter and strong coffee taste bud inspire. Dave's had a bit of a chiliandnoodle overdose -sleeping and pooping it off. So today, instead of walking to work - a descent of 300 metres to Delek hospital - I’m walking to Triund - a little village up neat the snow line. Too much of the white stuff to go very far is what I’ve heard.

Imagine what it could be like to have your front yard on a cliff. and your street on a very step hill. the kids here don’t have bikes or rollerblades - they just hop on a piece of wood and ski down the street. There is also co-operative badminton - a line of kids keeps the birdie moving up the hill until it gets to the top where the top kid hits it back down to the bottom. Feeding the monkeys is also entertaining. Family of four lurking across the roof next door - eyeing some forgotten breakfast. There they go. Kids brandish their sticks. One guy has an airgun. Boom. More peace. Its raining today the dogs are relatively quiet.

Had lunch yesterday at a restaurant where the owner had a lively little granddaughter - the parents are living in America. Brought out Aleexa’s picture and we talked about missing our kids.

Feb. 10. today’s rain - "it only rains in July"

Feb. 16. Dave has jumped right on the reuse recycle bandwagon that’s crazy around here and fashioned us a great pipe from the inside of a toilet roll. Large grapefruit torch. mid marathon 24 hours of rap - a film maker from SF, an enviro type from Oregon, a writer from Switzerland you name it they've got some connection to this town.

Could use a better supply of books. Coming to the end of wild swans. Too epic and glorious but anybody who survived the cultural revolution deserves some sort of recognition. Chinese culture is pretty alive here - lots of new arrivals from occupied Tibet speaking Chinese and of course the political news. even some tasteful Chinese ballads on the local stereos - great to have something other than pink floyd or the latest Indian movie soundtrack.

Lots of talk here about the Chinese butchery, but fortunately also some wise words about Tibetan culture and life surviving in spite of the Chinese occupation. "Even if only outside Tibet" say the real radicals.

looks warm inside that temple with all those butter lamps. we are using an electric heater - it snowed yesterday. Canadian are being asked where are your skis, Didn't even bring a jacket! Wrote an article for the local recycling project - the kids at the Tibetan Village bring in plastic bags and the one with the most volume gets a prize. They probably steal them from the shops. Entrepreneurial youth - in Jakarta they line up at the entrance to toll roads and ride in single occupant cars for money - it’s expsensive to drive alone on the freeway!

And minimal traveling on humble buses - I'm too old to experience the world so realistically ......

Feb. 18 - moving day - to an even better room with twice the view and a vigorous snow storm to appreciate. Been here twelve days and going nowhere fast.

A roar of solidarity from the roof - the pigeons are gathered to critique this weird weather. i’ve got all my clothes on a and a plastic garbage bag to keep them dry.

it would be nice if the sun would reappear - soon after arriving did a 18k snowline day hike and was exhilarated. air in the lungs. blinding sun across steep sloes of white. Remember that hike in the Olympics walking on progressively broader snowfields. And then the pass. And the morning elk.

Today I feel I could use a little Yogyakarta sunshine - a bike ride - a hike up mount merapi - an invitation from a gecko.

Spent yesterday at the library pondering reports about a growing secessionist movement in the Himalayan portion of neighboring Uttar Pradesh State. Every body want their own space. Some local China watchers say that the only way Tibet will gain its freedom if china dissolve - they cheer the economic boom in Guangdong. I understand this need for space - this desire for individuals and communities to self determine. Facilitating this self determination will expedite social justice. An easy observation from these lofty vantage

The sun is out for an instance over the Indian plan. I fly

New corner suite with twice the view though its just down the hall feels like we've moved across town. You know - all the secrets that get uncovered when packing up (copious grapefruit seeds). And the inevitable comparisons between rooms - I can't reach in and turn on the shower (to heat up the bathroom) but the shitter is right next to the door for minimal travel time.

"Sun is peaking out. Chance of a walk". Christ I sound like an Indian weather report - nothing too quantitative like temperatures. I could fart on at length about how fucked up India is but prefer to favourable compare this little Tibetan microcosm. Accessible - I've got the governments five year plan beside me on the bed. Motivated - these people are busy with projects and have their shit together getting foreigners big and small (like me) involved. Friendly - polite but not in your face unless you invite them.

the kids surf down steep mountain roads on sheets of plywood. the monks wear identical purple robes and a wide assortment of nonmatching footwear. THE old folks count prayer beads and spin prayer wheels obliviously. And we are right at home - great noodles, exotic breads, tins of Indian peanut butter.

toothless postacrd sage has a lot of relatives cruising around this town with equally charming smiles. Brushing my teeth frequently so to radiate the same warmth. New Year approaches and then, well, maybe they burn an old piece of furniture like the Japanese?

can't cruise the streets for too long without noticing the cute monks. Great footwear, identical purple robes, nothing much else to thwart the winter. Strains form second stories from time to time but haven't caught any music - miss the sarnath dusk jam of Japanese and Tibetan monk.Well there is the rumored chong party with dancing girls/boys at new years march

Feb. 21 Can’t see my breakfast sun so bright I’m blinded by 180 degrees of snow. This restaurant has two 12 year olds working tables - short but highly entrepreneurial - always trying to sell that extra cup of milk tea. we've discovered the cake bar - great sweets and of course a popular hangout spot. tooth brush getting a good workout.

Clothes are coming off in ecstasy as foreigners greet the sun after 12 days of cold rain and snow ... Roof top restaurants are spreading cheer - banana ginger pancakes, lemon lassi, a herd of curd. and the crowds are starting to roll in for new year march 2 - town is coming alive. I’m getting in shape to drink lots of chong.

Traveling offers the possibility of intense friendships for short periods of time. this particular time and place have been very fruitful - a combination of fate and intelligent guessing on my part. Feell like i’ve gained new wor(l)diness, but also seen the inside of a few hearts. Passion highly visible. event the anti Chinese sentiment is tolerable.

not alot missing from the scene here - floyd at the Zuhu Cafe - great chinese ballads at the shangri la, hot tuna on the walker. hat a judgment on the local music scene. imports all. for the imported. they are everywhere - and who know how the place starts to look like club med. but heh the Dalai lama gave med members and locals an audience yesterday and there’s nothing like a little speculation relieved. Buddhism has a lot going for it but like all religions it doesn’t' encourage enough self initiative, or praise.

biggest snow fall of the year and everything is one colour now. back to huddling around electric fire. time to engage another big cracker, fuel up on peanut butter and heavy Tibetan sourdough, ad go for a walk. Grapefruit inventory alert. Time to reorder. made the warehouse too small Get those blazing forklifts into actions. blazing hotknives this time around.

Feb 26th Sunrise awakened by my burning duvee and that required some adrenaline. Must have been a good dream which kicked the covers onto the heater which quickly filled the room with smoke. Open the windows and circulate the Himalayan morning - its the best time for bird sounds before the dogs lose it, and the drivers start leaning on their horns. Steady rhythm from the leaking water pipe on the adjacent hill. An Elvis bottom for those that might want to venture out with a song.

"Deng xiaoping died a few weeks ago" of course you know whether or not that statement is true but imagine my surprise when it was casually dropped in conversation. A 'catastrophe' the mathematicians would say - an abrupt discontinuity in some function, this one logical. I mean wouldn’t the news have already circulated joyously (fearfully) around this community. S much of the intellectual "Free Tibet" discussion - and they are rampant especially when Dave is around - teeter tooter on the question "what's after deng in china". Those emperors have such a way of keeping the world waiting.

Yes we have no news. We could "voice of America or BBC' if we figured it out but what’s the hurry. Foreigners here are looking for a very specific kind of enlightenment. That’s perhaps a touch severe but there is unquestionably an excess of Dalai lama loyalty. My beef comes from having worked with so many exceptional lay folks - we should be learning from each other rather than hanging off some reincarnates - or dictators - or CEO's rhetoric. maybe its just sour grapes cause I’m on the outside - Dave says my volunteer work here is penance for a history of being too Chinese

Feb. 27 On silicon mountain - crossed many interesting paths in the 3 weeks here but among the best are those of the information agers. favorably distinguished from the info techies who Dave sometimes attracts but on the whole we've been treated to vision. People asking what needs to be known to make their mission - political struggle, cultural propagation, business even - more viable

so we've got the American doctor sampling the population and the left-wing Tibetan weekly putting up a bulletin board and Derek hospital redesigning the intake questionnaire to get some baseline data on aids knowledge. it is particularly relevant for Asian cultures to be debating information - they are less likely to share it gratuitously. an eternity of institutions like the family have defined quite arbitrarily the boundaries of trust. in north America we have been forced to develop much more ad hoc and flexible communities, and the first step in making those allegiances is information sharing. The fastest way to a consensus, or an agreement to disagree, or a decision to move.

Flash on the little house on the hill above Dharamsala friends dropping in for the annual Elvis week and then the ten day hike to "where haven't we been" . Two absolutes? are there others?

Chatted yesterday wit the ex director of the Vermont USA Tibetan resettlement project. An interesting model for immigration - get them jobs and local support and some momentum towards building their own community. Tibetans are the darlings of the refugee world. But lets take the consumer perspective - all those NA social justice types looking for a way to think globally and act locally.

Feb 28 clean up day - the recycling project got a good turnout to clean the slopes of plastic in anticipation of new year march 2. The critics are of two minds - without education there'll be no change of attitude. But the sight of 100 folks combing the hillsides and, miraculously its green again after a few hours, must move people. Sore right forearm and aching caves from slugging sacks updown hill.

Fantasizing about "India by night" - a 'holiday' involving confinement to a comfortable third floor Paharganj guest host during the day, and hence India at its least intense. Dusk quiet, dinnertime experiments on the street, evening strolls thru the maze, a large cracker night. so what keeps the daytime together. perhaps the short story about the American assassinated in Algeria as a ruse to divert attention from media speculation that the am govt and the Algerian terrorist have struck a "no American casualties deal"

Indonesia gives me space - India treats me like a source of wealth. Right now there’s a fucking loud speaker treating us to some tolerable Indian music but what an imposition. china is similarly infected but at least there its clearly motivated - mind control. Some kids are tumblingling down the hill and shouting. A driver leans on his horn. the neighbors dog loses it. Asia sounds.

Feb. 29 - lots of children talk today - Dave and I heberoking with an American doctor and we finally got around to talking about personal things. (This is exactly the opposite of how w get to know the locals - family is the first place to find common ground). So out with the pictures and boasted about our brilliant children and at one point I recounted the conversation you and I had about different living situations and you said you preferred the Eric scenario - seeing your father every second weekend - to the Peter scenario - seeing your father for half the year. I felt hurt - but thanks for being honest.

coming down the avalanche slope together

Mar 4 "spring is here" "Are you sure" " maybe keep the heater for one more day" Everyone is taking off clothes but keeping their insurance paid up. I took a chance and washed my wool hat - it has been on top for most of the last 3 weeks. Occasionally it even stands in as a mitten -forget to bring some and they only sell gloves here. Yesterday came down a couple 100 metres of avalanche gully - yes almost straight down in who knows how deep snow.. Two of us found a virtually snow less ridge route to 3000 metres to a magic spot humbled below giant peaks - blinding. Took the fast way down to a real trail; I scouted out a few weeks earlier. before the snow fell. a great cross country day. With my trusty hat called upon for a variety of duties. today it looks so bright. as do the other pieces of laundry which joined me in the hot shower post hike. Hot water for sore limbs. Another bath this AM, a brief walk, a few hours on the computer and its been a full day. now it is sunset and getting dark and the street noise ......

Whooshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... boom! Kids tossing crackers everywhere.
I’ve kept out of town for the last few days. There’s no mystery left. Eaten in every restaurant on the two major streets - each about one block long. Post office at one end, bank at the other. there are of course numerous arteries to the various monarteries and surrounding villages. So ... explore! I remember it being almost two months before I continued into the rice paddy past the house I lived at in Yogyakarta. Party at a neighboring house for some folks heading on the pilgrimage to Mecca. A musical bunch keeping late hours so I had to investigate.

Time to spill at little. Tried to work it out yesterday with a gusto 20 k hike up into 'impenetrable' snow country. Telt close coming down the 1st few 100 metres thru an avalanche gully. Wondering what was cooking up behind me. Minutes before on the ridge 3000 metres high and humble below the real peaks.
Wondering how soon I’ll be back to explore the path through those heights. Inevitably after almost 7 hours of grunt its back down to warmth and civilization and what's next. What’s been spilled. Even a lengthy mediation this am felt uneasy. A temporary phenomena no doubt but what’s with the anger the lostness. Thinking about the December “out of control switch” stuck on. Never been shut out like that before. or maybe never cared enough to notice. But was it caring. rather paranoia . cash your wonders early.

A gear change, a horn, another gear change and an interminable lean on the klaxon but its fading down the hill and the bhagsu brass boys are coming in to focus on the other side of the ridge, wait, lets check it out... yea a wedding! pick-up band - horn, clarinet and two drummers - lead the parade thru the upper slopes of town en route to rendezvous with couple of taxis at the local tea stall where the groom will be discarriaged and whisked via wheels to nearby dal lake to meet the bride.

a cloud of dust, a fading melody, a receding beat, and then just chit chat of the tea drinkers and the spectators like myself left, hanging, waiting, what’s next, another spectacle, more real life drama, life in India as it’s been forever.

March 6 Bright new prayer flags wave morning across the slopes. Remnants of Tibetan Newyear - along with the persistent fire cracker boys. Gotta start the training early for the fronte de liberation Tibet. Thankful that the rhetoric is not too pervasive - at least some of the folks are taking about jobs and health and immediate concerns. You never know who'll be down the road a few decades ahead. So why worry now.

Lots of visitors - from the passionate DL freaks to the snobbishly curious wealthy Indian tourist. One interesting group are the resettlement folks from America. A handful of Tibetans, and white types, who are replete with anecdotes about the recent immigration of 1000 Tibetans to the US of a. One San Franciscan talks about demonstrating the need to put the toilet seat down. A Chicago woman meet the husband of one of the resettlers - he's the principal at DH high - and showed him how to make burgers. “You'll be a short order chief when you go to lotusland"

Also the do-gooders like myself - having meetings to plot efficiency. Been chatting with the managment systems consultant type from Atlanta who wants to assemble a group of visionaries to facilitate writing of a macro info plan for the community. Ambitious. Presumptuous. I listen curiously

March 7 A day of good-byes. Such times remind me of home - ?where is that. Elvis is one place.

Elvis opportunities been slim but last nite we had a small sparkle. Dave has been hanging out with this young French girl and that may be their most coherent moment because otherwise the Tibet talk is totally excessive but heh they are having a good time and the grapefruit diet is in no way compromised. She call me Mr. Five minutes cause I’m frequently requesting a little more time before we head off to dinner. Finally gave birth to a song - lao wei lao wu (old foreigner old five) Proves the theory that all you need is a good chorus and the indestructible beat of Elvis will arise.

March 8 Delhi. From gentles breezes blowing bright prayer flags across Himilayan slopes to .. what/ slippery streets - back to the land of cow shit. Ferocious auto rickshaw drivers - "How about another ten rups for my five kids and wife - she is very large”. Noise - Horns leaned on - familiar convestaions ata yell. What charm to discover?

Been dreaming about the little house in the ricefields - enough electricity for a microwave, some loud guitars and a light - no heat required.

they closed the hospital my last PM in Dh in order to clean' up before a surprise visit from the big man. When I opine that this is abuse of power people don’t get it - "it is his private secretary (or the minister of health or the head of the hospital) that want us out there picking up garbage". this little kingdom in exile is as fraught with fiefdoms as any - but gotta hand it to them for accessibility.

okay here’s my picture. Keeping in mind my current context - crowded. Dave and I have just chatted about how important a good hotel room is in India because that’s where we go for space. Anyway imagine its pre dusk sky starting to pink, walking up the quiet winding road - ooooops step aside for a minivan - now its quiet again and pause look up the brown ridge a few km across the valley up to the snow line then focus a few more km straight back up the jagged peaks. Stop> walk some more pass a few smiling folks late for dinner I guess they'll have to turn on the torch soon but wait enjoy the last sun on the peaks, the brown edge dominates the sky, pink to orange to red, and good-bye.

March 10 Delhi. Midnight just back from a ramble which culminated in a few temple hours with a great band - numerous drums, harmonium, cymbals, and a hot chorus. The treats which make the dream.

The guy at the post office asked me about “the good news” when I was reading your letters. Tell you mom the foam packing for the computer was a great idea - she is full of wisdom.

Copyright Notice © 1995 Peter Gillies