The Point of It All

Let me clear something up.  

I didn't come to India to attain enlightenment.

I was hoping for something more along the lines of a snippet of inner peace.  I'd hoped to dip a toe in that pool of wisdom that most Westerners are yearning for.  Hoping that being back in Asia would put everything in perspective.  Hoping that by coming here all my problems might be reduced to mere trivialities.  

I'm now discovering that no matter where I go in the world, I bring it with me.  I'm not sure exactly how to describe 'it' to you but I think you understand what I'm getting at here.

Is the problem that I am alone?  That I have no one to share my immediate experience with?  Could be.  Of course I miss you, but I know that coming here was the right decision.  I came to teach but I also hoped to learn too- about the Tibetans, about Buddhism, about myself.  But when will I start to feel like I'm gaining something?  Should I even expect that?  Everywhere I go and everyone I pass, I smile big...someone shouted to me from a shop today: "Happy happy!  You always happy!"  I can smile with my mouth, but what about smiling with my heart?

On a lighter note, I've taken note of some musings I wanted to share with all of you...

Firstly, that smell.  I've figured out what is that distinctly India smell that at first mystified me.  It's cow dung.  And that burning smell- it's burning cow dung.

Second, I have a newfound love for Bollywood.  I fantasize about breaking into dance mid-conversation and having the 100 nearest people join in behind me.  I recently saw my first Bollywood film... I didn't catch the name but it starred the most bad-ass action hero I've ever seen, played by Salaman Khan.  This guy is so ripped that when he gets angry, his shirt bursts open at the seams.  No joke.

Third, Indians don't use toilet paper.  This is something I always knew in the back of my mind but never really thought about it until faced with the reality of the situation.  It doesn't come with the room I'm renting.  Most guest houses sell rolls of it at the front counter for 25Rs.  There isn't even a place in the bathroom to put the roll.  I wonder what Indians think of our bathroom situation when they go abroad.

Fourth, the shops and houses in this town have no street numbers.  The address of a place is the street name, plus the business it is located behind/above/under.  For example, the Volunteer Tibet office where I've been working is on "Lower Jogiwara Road next to Tashi Choeling Monastery".  The Tibet Hope Center is another organization with English and other classes for Tibetan refugees. You can find it "behind Japanese Restaurant off the post office road".  Note that the road IS actually called Post Office Road.  It would be like saying, "We are located on Midvale Way, five blocks past the 7-11 and down a little further".  The ingenuity of these people never ceases to amaze me!