Monastic mountain meal with Pizza Pup & Shangri-La Lobsang

Lobsang is the manager of Shangri-La, the tastiest, cheapest, most happenin’ monk hangout, restaurant and guest house this side of the Himalaya. I head there every morning for some honey curd, tofu spinach soup, banana crepes with peanut better and hot lemon honey ginger. Yes, I eat like a gluttonous cow. I am no longer a skeletal shade of my former self, and food, thankfully, has reconciled her differences with my belly.

This past weekend, Lobsang was kind enough to treat me to pizza in Dharamkot (the new residence of Mr. Sanhueza), a small mountain village. Why is there pizzeria in a mountain village? I don’t know, I don’t care, I’m just happy to snarf crunchy mushroom garlic slices beneath a crown of craggy peaks. Sanhueza joined us for lunch, accompanied by his four-legged lady friend with gorgeous golden fur and wide brown eyes. She happily snacked on our leftover crusts, though we had to restrain her from chomping on some nearby kiddos.

High altitude affable affiliations. (aflac!)

On the left, Jimpa dilligently reads National Geographic to broaden his horizons. What a model citizen!

To his right, Tsering indulges himself in a life of sin and vice. What a scumbag!

Just kidding, both fellows depicted here are most excellent friends and superb individuals! We pass our spare minutes (Lordy, I have so few these days!) shooting the breeze, drinking lassis and playing chess. Tsering is a brilliant writer; we hope his novel - The Tear, the heart wrenching chronicle of his exodus from Tibet - will someday be published in America. Our dear friend in the ol' Red White and Blue, Maura Elford, is helping him master the mystical art of English writing. Jimpa has many amazing childhood tales of his experiences as a monk, and soon, we hope he will travel to a wildlife reserve in Canada, eh?

More cute puppies and the Luddite Trap

I revised my previous entry; I was way too harsh on Westerners wanting to give handouts to poor communities. There are countless scenarios where donations to developing nations are desparately needed.

For example, one might say, "We have no business bringing money and technology into rural villages; these people live simple, peaceful, beautiful lives, who are we to march in and introduce our Western lifestyle?" Doctor Paul Farmer, international health superstar, calls this the "luddite trap," or, "good things for rich people and shit for the poor." (Luddite = someone who shuns/dislikes technology in favor of a simpler lifestyle.) Granted, there is some appeal to living in a hut on a tranquil farm with cows and wheat fields. The danger, however, is the tendency to romanticize this lifestyle. It's easy to see the beauty in a "simple life" when we have the freedom to choose between life in a hut, versus a life of convenience, medical care, video games and such.

On the other side of the coin, great care must be taken when introducing Western values/culture/technology to a developing community. History is chock full of horror stories wherein colonists force and/or coerce native peoples to adopt some useless crap way of life that winds up wiping out their entire culture.

One of the best litmus tests of a good "donation," I think, is one presented by Amartya Sen, author of Development as Freedom: Let the people choose. Citizens should have the freedom to decide for themselves what sort of lifestyle they wish to lead. If an African village community requests crank-powered laptops and better schooling so their children can get an education, more power to any organization who can help them achieve this goal! If the families in Charan ask for a medical clinic, by all means, let's help them stay healthy!

Perhaps I'm contradicting myself a bit, but issues like these are complicated, and I'm still sorting it all out for myself. The moral of my story, I think, is to help out wherever there is need, so as long as both parties are involved in deciding what help is truly needed, and care is taken to ensure a positive impact without creating dependency.

Charan Episode 2: Holy Tarp

Commutes to Charan (Indian refugee camp) can sink the heart. Black tarp, riddled with holes, held up by wobbly wooden posts. Dirt floors, trickling rivers of rancid gray sewage, dust everywhere that clings to the inside of noses. Children rife with epidermal woes. Tension between refugees from different parts of India. Still, it didn't take long to feel at home among charming children and wacky unpredictability of village life (warning: it's easy to appreciate the "charm" in slums when not forced to live in one).

This week, en route to teach, a passerby pointed to me and said, "Angrezi!" (English person!) Before I had time to respond, one of the Charan locals shouted, "No, not Angrezi. Hindi, Hindi!" What an honor! Felt such comfort and warmth to be welcomed as a member of the community. Indeed, walking to and from class is a slow but lovely journey; so many chats, handshakes, smiles and small children to carry along the way.

Important, however, not to feel too smug in my role as a helper. Better, I think, to avoid scenarios where Westerners ride in on a white horse to save the children; offering freebies and instant solutions can create dependency on foreigners and a feeling of helplessness. The goal of Tong Len is not to provide handouts; rather, their aim is to empower the people to solve their own problems. For example, a small business loan to help local women start a clothing shop is far better than handing out money. Hiring local teachers to work with Western volunteers provides children with role models from their own community. Shankar, for example, grew up in Charan. Now he works tirelessly to teach the children Hindi, translate for Western teachers and doctors, deliver medicine to local families, patch holes in the classroom roof (tarp). He has enough salary to move out of the slum, but he chooses to remain.
On that note, if anyone is looking to support a worthwhile non-profit, I give Tong-Len five stars for sustainability, positive impact, and responsible use of funding. To learn more, check out http://www.tong-len.org/

Rest, with good company

Hiked up to a Tibetan boarding school with other volunteers. A relaxing stroll on a beautiful day renewed energy lost to a busy (and wonderfully productive) work week. McLeod Ganj is home now, teaching is my job, goats are traffic and weekends are a time for sleep, meditation, paneer and ice cream bars.

I'm thankful for the friends I have here. Sanhueza (yellow shirt, photo below), an artist I met back at Stainless Steel Studios, came to volunteer for three months. He's thriving here - running an art program for the children in the slums, teaching courses to monks, Tutoring, helping with the cleanup project. His presence is motivating.

The other volunteers are equally skilled and gracious. Colin (far right, photo below) travelled many hours to find flea spray, worm pills and dog food for a stray pup. He came to do research for a Human Rights group, but his compassion towards Cocoa the emaciated dog demonstrates the extra effort some people will take to ease suffering. Many Tibetans, I think, exemplify this; they have tremendous respect for all sentient life, and will protect the lives of even the smallest creatures.

Hilly

Yup, it really does get that steep.