For the total development of the human being, solitude as a means of cultivating sensitivity becomes a necessity.
J. Krishnamurti

Sunday, September 19, 2010

where the old wind blows

life in mcleod ganji and bahgsu and are to be loved and cherished. after the bustling city life i am so settled in this himalyian village. the ride here was of course crazy but i expect crazy now.

in amristar i was planning on getting the fastest bus straight straight to dharamshala, home of the dhali lama, but the wind would have it otherwise. of course the direct bus had been cancelled that day, no reason, just cancelled. so my only option was to get on a bus headed to gagaal, close but 2 bus stops away from dharamshala. so i got on the bus which was built circa 1975 and said to myself here wego.ok so a breif note on state buses. we are talking straight out of a movie. these are funky, smelly and packed with people. 3 in a row, your  jammed into an upright position with little room to breath for about 8 hours. for this reaon alone i can see now why inidans can meditate for so long. the only way to survive these long sweaty bus rides is to comletely remove yourself from the sitaution and check out.

but dont check out for to long, becasue on the less traversed tourist routes there is really no way of knowing where you are. the bus pulls up on the side of the road in a village with an enegetic voltage that makes your head spin, by the time you can read a sign that can clue you into where you might be, the bus has already taken off. ohhh and let me spend a scentence or two on the cruise director of the bus, the ticket collecter. this man runs the show. equipped with the loudest whistle invented, he corrdinates the exchange of money and tickets via the entire bus, we are his workers, helping to exchange money, maneuver luggage, carry small children across the backs of seats to their parents, pass food, and water. at each stop he blows the whistle and when people get on he blows the whislte to alert the driver, whom you can barely see if your in the back, taht all legs and arms are in and it is time to hustle. love these guys they are like little bus master and make it all work.

ok back to the story. so i get dropped off in gagaal, a random village in the middle of nowhere. i took me an hour to find it on the lonely planet map. anyhow now it is like 8 om, dark and there i am standing in a bowl of dust looking for the next bus to dharamshala.completely lost and confused, but so calm and like whatever. i look up and the enitre bus is shouting and pointing to the bus i need to be on, ahh the power of the blank stare!!

now here nestled in this windy,m cool and majestic place. i spend mornings in 2 hour yoga classes. i read on balconys of funky restaurants, drink chai, and play backggamon with other tourists. I can tell you all would love it here and i can see myself chatting in the cool breeze with you. sending love with old wind, hope it finds you soon. 


  1. I can just see you smooshed in that old rickety bus... thanks for sending the old wind, and kiss the Himalayas for me. Sending you love and safe travels Blair-ber

  2. oh my D; I love reading these :) love you x's a million

  3. ahh! You are a great story teller! I can totally picture it. Love you!