ROAD BLOG AHEAD

It’s actually neither here in Tso Pema, but the concept is relative depending on who - or what - you are.

The last two days we’ve had enormous thunderstorms with pounding rain and lightning that shook the mountains. The power was off much of yesterday and today so we’re conserving computer batteries when we can. That, plus the ongoingly dreadful astrological aspects on any sort of interpersonal communications means that I’m writing minimally these days. However, I continue to try to test this new mobile phone. Lots of pictures solves the problems, plus y’all seem to like the pictures!

You can really see that we’re literally in the clouds up here. This isn’t fog like I’m used to in the Bay Area.

It’s freezing in here (was 10 degrees indoors this a.m. and it snowed in Delhi yesterday.) However our inside is relatively sheltered and less frigid and wet than outside, so that’s where everyone wants to be. This morning I went to get something out of the suitcase I keep stored under our bed like a drawer. Imagine my surprise when, instead of my underwear, I found this staring back at me:

She’s very young and quite pregnant and was very happily nestled in among my clothes. Friendly too - she’s sat in our laps, purred and, once she was sure that we weren’t going to chase her out, begged for food. Milk, rice and meat scraps went down in a jiffy and then she explored and marked the house (rubbing, not spraying) and settled back under the bed. We appear to have been adopted.

There are other creatures that would also like to be adopted and fed. Yesterday, during the rain, we found this on the roof of the latrine and tossed her a kapsa:

Today she came back, a little too boldly perhaps. I looked out and there she was, sitting on the balcony railing:

She tried to come in, actually got past the gate before we saw here and shooed her back out. One does NOT want wild monkeys in the house. They are agressive and make an unholy mess. We chased her out, but she was less afraid than we would have liked and just sat out there hopefully:

We discovered that she had a baby and its dad waiting for her on the roof. The combination of a flung kapsa and a large stick encouraged them to depart. For now. As cold and frigid as it is, I don’t blame the critters for wanting to be here with us. The little kitty just went to the veranda gate, looked out, shook her head and headed back to the kitchen. It’s wild kingdom here!

Testing out a new GPRS cell phone modem that, so far, seems to work. It’s a Sony Ericsson and rather fancy, but I got a really decent trade in price for my Nokia that wasn’t getting a good signal. I’ve got a couple of days to try this one out and make sure it’ll do the trick. However the electricity has been off for most of the day and is still off, so I’m going to do another mostly pictures post. This time of Losar (Tibetan Lunar New Years) which is an enormous deal around here, with days and days of celebration and visits. The major doings happened last Sunday and Monday. Remember, we moved on Saturday.

Losar Day One:
First you get up really early and head down the mountain to Zigar Monastery:

Which, unlike in the above photo, is crammed full of people, inside and out in the courtyard.

You go in to pay your respects to 3 generations of high lamas and get their blessings. The place is way over-decorated in typical Tibetan holiday fashion which favors lots of bright colours, brocades and gold trim. If you’re us, you turn up a little bit late, but they still let you come in and offer kataks:

You go back out into the courtyard where a large colourful canopy has been set up. Everyone has plastic chairs or sits on the ground:

For whatever reasons, we’re considered VIPs so we get to sit in that section and have a little table to put things on and get served tea in china cups and a plate of the endless, traditional fried pastries that are made for Losar. They’re called “kapsas” and some are even edible and tasty. Others appear to be of a size and solidity that makes them more effective as weapons than as snacks. The Khampas are particularly known for this latter category of kapsas. They last for months and turn up just when you think there can’t possibly be any left since it’s mid-June. And somebody hauls another batch out of a tin that they’ve been saving since Losar and hands you this massive object to gnaw on. Right now they’re still fresh. They are placed in front of us and the high lamas and guests in tall, decorative piles, the bigger the pile, the more prestigious the individual:

Then the monks blow big horns and everyone rises and bows as the high lamas emerge from the inner sanctum and take their seats in front of the assembled throng.

Tea is served. As I said, some of us get china cups and dishes. Some people have brought their own cups and bowls and plates, others get plastic cups and foil plates full of the breakfast treat - sweetened rice boiled with raisins and cashew nuts. Holding the foil plates can be tricky if you haven’t quite got your coordination:

The festivities commence with traditional Tibetan singing and dancing:

Followed by the Khampa equivalent of “open Mic” time where anyone is welcome to get up and offer a song, perform a dance or give a speech. The Kinooris often walk around the lake singing and chanting. Their stamina is legendary - this particular group of older women is capable of going on with their dance for hours until they are intoxicated by the movement and the music. Their enthusiasm and joyousness is contagious:

The crowds watch and cheer and eat food and laugh and generally have a holiday. People come from all over the region, from all backgrounds, speaking a myriad of languages:

Even the kids get in on the act:

A big lunch is served and then there are games of skill and strength and some that are just plain funny. It’s a grand time, a true holiday for all!

Since Nyondo and I are sharing the single working cell phone until we can get a replacement for mine, we’re also sharing the posting of what has been happening around here. If you haven’t checked out her blog yet, please go HERE to see the latest on what’s happening with the Emergency Medical Fund. Meanwhile, I’m working on writing blogs offline to post when we have the technology under control again.

Sometimes, those broad spectrum horoscopes hit the nail right on the head:

My Scorpio blurb for Monday from Tarot.com:

As your creative visions come down to Earth, you must become more realistic about who you are and where you are going. But the real action won’t occur in the world of rational thoughts. You aren’t quite finished with your magical activities in the emotional and symbolic realms — places where spoken language cannot go. Take the necessary time to explore your feelings without trying to explain yourself to anyone else.

The last few days have been exactly like this - words just don’t go there for me at the moment and the energy flying around this place is nothing short of overwhelming. Add to that that my cell phone/modem has chosen this week to fail in its appointed duties and I’m experiencing one of the biggest Mercury Retrograde case of moribund communications in recent memory. Nothing I say comes out as I intend it. Nothing anyone hears seems to be what I think I said and I’m watching this happen to many people around me,. So I think, at least for today, I will let pictures do the talking instead of trying to force myself to write a blog that may or may not even make it up (with the cell phone problems.)

I’ve got lots and lots of pictures. SOme of them, however, require a good bit of contextual explanation. I’ll save those for when I have enough brain cells to do them justice and tell the many funny, touching or weird stories that go with ‘em. Today I’ll oblige the various friends who have written asking me to post pictures of the house, now that we’ve moved in. It’s still very much a work in progress and pretty stark, but it’s functional at least and the paint is on the walls, so people can get a general idea of it.

The central veranda, open at one end to a narrow balcony:

Me in my office which is still extremely bare bones:

Off the balcony, the “latrine” as it’s called here. I’ve been in more spacious airline lavatories, but, for India, it’s a really good one:

Have I talked about Indian stairs before? Here’s the view down ours. Remember, we chose this place in part because the stairs were much better than average:

The kitchen, probably the most together room in the house so far. It’s cozy. It functions well. We like it:

The hall as you enter from the stairs:

Nyondo’s bedroom:

The room that will be a combo of guest room and Lena’s clinic space:

Our bedroom. Very untogether so far:

But the custom made wrought iron bed with a celtic knot headboard is so much more comfortable than anything I’ve slept in in a long time!

The road that runs right in front of the house. I mean RIGHT in front. You could jump off the balcony and land on top of the busses that pass.

And, of course, I continue to be enthralled by the views from here:

We’re moving. Things are being schlepped up the mountain as I type this. In a little while a carrier will come and haul our bags up to the house. The next time I post to this blog, it ought to be from the new place. Powers that be and Airtel of India willing…

I cannot even begin to tell you how chaotic this past week has been. I lack words. And this, from someone who has spent the past couple of years wandering the globe and living in what seems a perpetual state of chaos and uncertainty. Lena and Rimpoche returned on Monday from… well, since all went well, I can now tell anyone reading this that they returned from Kathmandu where they were successful in obtaining the necessary visas for Rimpoche to visit North America as planned this spring. The process took much longer than usual due to the somewhat unstable situation in Nepal that had all flight out of the country booked since the overland border routes were closed. In the meantime, everyone involved with the house went into a state of catatonia, repeatedly responding to our insistence that things move forward by saying “why don’t we wait for Lena to get back?” Meantime, Nyondo and I were not only trying to do our usual stuff, but I’ve been working on fundraising for the upcoming trip, trying to keep track of donations to the medical emergency fund, working on a teaching programme/itinerary for Rimpoche and a myriad of other activities related to our upcoming journey while also doing everything that Lena had been doing about the house (with a lot less success, unfortunately. This was due in part to our lack of Hindi, in part to the incredibly steep learning curve involved in Indian construction and finishing methods.) Then there was the endless parade of people looking for Lena as either the doctor or the translator. I could
do some of that - the simple “I’ve got a headache” or “what does this Christmas card from my sponsor say?” things that I have enough Tibetan to both understand and respond to. Some of the truly complex things were beyond me however. For her part, Nyondo spent most of that two weeks running up and down the mountain on foot, trying to figure out what was happening, what should be happening, what would be happening tomorrow. Her thigh muscles are amazing by now!

So the lamas returned home to Tso Pema just in time for the pre-Losar frenzy to begin. This is roughly equivalent around here to what the preparations and stress levels would be like if you took American Thanksgiving, Chirstmas/Solstice/Hannukah and New Years Even and rolled them all into a two week period during which your birthday also occurred. All of the big lamas have come to town, the VIPs as well as the heads of the monasteries. Every room and corner of a room in town is booked solid for the next several weeks. We MUST be out of this hotel by the weekend - it’s stacked four deep. The house, which was promised to us to absolutely and totally be finished by the 8th of February, is still not quite ready, but we are moving in Saturday morning come hell or high water and the rest of the building and finishing and polishing will have to take place around us. Sunday is Losar and the town will all be about celebrating and feasting and exchanging gifts. The festivities will actually continue for days (or weeks in some
cases.)

Of course it’s been pouring rain (thanks socks) since my last post and bone-chilling cold. And it’s Indian wedding season with wedding processions and parties into the night. A very large, very rowdy wedding group spent the last several nights in the hotel. From their look and behavior, I’d venture to guess that the bride’s family at least was the wealthy family of a very rural village and they came to Tso Pema/Rewalsar to celebrate the marriage because it is both a holy place and the “big city”! Most of them
acted like they had never stayed in a hotel before in their lives and it was all very exciting and stimulating. For them and the other guests I’m afraid. They left this morning. This weekend is a Hindu festival specific to this region of India - a three day Shiva marathon that supposedly runs day and night. It overlaps with Losar. OM NAMO SHIVAYA!

Other forms of chaos and excitement: This morning we awoke to find that both the large Mani stone at the town gate and the Green Tara shrine by the lake had been vandalized in the night. Beyond vandalized really, desecrated and damaged quite deliberately. Those who did the damage actually went to considerable trouble to not only foul the shrine, but they tore down part of a stone wall nearby in order to block it up after making a mess. This is really really shocking in a place that is a major pilgrimage point and where many sects co-exist peacefully and cooperatively. So the town swarmed and buzzed from early on right outside our windows. I had no idea that there were that many police in the entire region! There were a tense few hours when I was literally trapped in our hotel room with a lobby full of police downstairs using it as command central. Apparently they were looking for possible culprits and asked the manager if there were any foreigners staying here. She falsely answered no to cover her own ass because she had, for reasons no one can fathom, neglected to put us on the hotel register. This despite repeated requests by us, by our friends who own the hotel and are letting us stay here and by the manager’s boss. She had our papers for days to do this entry and never did. So she said, “no no foreigners here” and then ran upstairs to tell me I mustn’t come down and that I must prevent Lena and Nyondo from coming back for a few hours. That was not only majorly weird for me, but slowed us down as Nyondo was supposed to come upstairs, get some hardware to be installed in the new house and run it up to the carpenter. Instead, we had 2 hours of bad comedy espionage as we tried to get the materials to her without either of us having to go past the police. It slowed down work considerably and caused several people to get pulled into the drama in order to cover our existence. Needless to say, the hotel manager is currently on a lot of people’s shit list!

Making things even more complex - when we finally got a boy to run up to take the hardware to Nyondo, she gave him my lunch to bring up to me. And, unbeknownst to us both, the pakora (fried vegetable fritters) contained not just onion and cauliflower as she had clearly specified, but apparently had a small amount of hidden potato. I am seriously allergic to potatoes! So, by the time Nyondo returned from her run up the hill and the cops had left the building, I was in the bathroom puking instead of packing. Shaking too. Potatoes and bell peppers are my worst allergies with tomato and eggplant trailing behind. All members of the same plant family. So happy anaphalaxis Joy! Fortunately, Nyondo realized what had happened and got a few caps of Benadryl into me and put me to bed with a hot water bottle to take away the shakies. Then Lena came home and completed my recovery with acupuncture for allergic reactions. I’m okay now, but it sure was a weird way to spend the afternoon. Did manage to get things at least organized and partly packed. It’s astonishing how fast things accumulate. Two years ago we gave away 95% of our worldly belongings. One year ago we left the U.S. with 2 suitcases apiece. By now we’ve got enough junk that we’ll need help schlepping it.

Some moments the sheer intensity and constant barrage of occurrences seems fun. Some moments I just feel like going back to bed. It certainly isn’t dull! Hopefully, within a day or so, we’ll be in the new house - such as it is - and I’ll have a chance to blog about details instead of just whirling through and exclaiming about the chaos that we call our lives. In this moment, even writing a short blog feels like stealing time. I wonder - can a person actually steal their own time?

Oh, and the title of this blog? I meant to mention earlier that, on top of it all, I had the theme song from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life stuck in my head for days, a real driving me nuts earworm with the final to lines going “Pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space, cause there’s bugger all down here on Earth.” Day and night I heard that song. Then, yesterday, a major wedding party went by, very traditional. I took pictures out the window. First came some older women twirling and dancing

Then the marching band in uniforms. Followed by the bride and her party (she’s the one sparling in gold) followed by the groom’s party (he’s got the fancy gold headdress)

So, the band, like most of the brass bands I’ve heard in India and Nepal, was not very good, just enthusiastic. And as the procession made it’s way past my window to the far side of the lake, I realized that they were playing what sounded like a Western song (which are very popular with marching bands here) from everybody’s childhood: The Farmer In The Dell. Great. Now I’ve got THAT song stuck in my head! Just had to share it with you all.

For those who have written me wondering if all is okay - the answer is a qualified yes, if, by okay, you mean am I physically intact.

Lena is still out of town dealing with business stuff for Rimpoche. In her absence, work on the house has become chaotic. Nyondo and I are trying to cover for her, but there’s a lot of info she only had in her head. She expected to be back by now so didn’t write it all down, just some things she thought we’d need to know while she was gone. Plus this is India. Nothing gets done the way you expect it to or when you expect it to. People often are polite and tell you what they think you WANT to hear in order to not upset you, even if it’s far from the truth. This isn’t considered lying, it’s considering not making waves. Except then the time comes and the painter isn’t there, the plumber is out of state and nothing is happening. And you get upset. Yes, I know these are all thoughts and, yeah, I’m very aware that, if I just watch them, all my thoughts, including the upset and angry one, go spontaneously back to the emptiness from which they arose. However they ARE arising

So we have been putting in 18 hour days trying to keep up with the house construction and finishing stuff, the organizing of Rimpoche’s upcoming tour of North America, the non-stop parade of people coming by either looking for Lena or needing something immediately whether she is here or not. Then there is our own work. My language skills are getting a workout, however I am please to notice that I seem to automatically switch to whatever language seems appropriate to the person without thinking about it. My Hindi is still rudimentary, but I’ve found myself using complete and intelligible sentences about simple things. My Tibetan is coming along strongly by sheer necessity. For all intents and purposes, Nyondo and I are dealing with whatever is right in front of us demanding our attention in the exact moment and doing so from 6 a.m. until midnight most days when we fall over exhausted. So, if I have neglected to return a social e-mail or phone call, please forgive me - I can assure virtually everyone that my neglect is in no way personal, it’s situational. I have limited connectivity and only at certain times of day. Those are EXACTLY the same hours that require 99% of our attention on crises related to house construction. For instance, I’ve been working on writing this for 45 minutes - just a “quickie” and I have been interrupted no less than 8 times by phone calls about the house. Each time that happens, I have to reconnect to the internet. So I’d better finish this up. I’m almost at the end of the hours when I have a connection that is usually reliable.

For those who wondered - we DID get rain. I don’t know if I can take all the credit, but it did seem to be directly related to my sock knitting progress, so I’m at least satisfied with the result. WIsh it had happened a bit faster, but I haven’t been able to knit faster, so…  I cast on the second sock with the promise of finishing it if we got more rain:

And a view of the house relative to the lake and the mountain ridge. The lake is in the foreground. The house is marked by yellow, the enormous Padmasambhatva statue we’re building is at the far left in red and the caves of Guru Rimpoche and Madareva are at the top marked by a blue dingbat. Our location is pretty amazing. Oh and the area, also called Vikash Nagar is politically the area known as Doh. Must have been named by Homer Simposon.

More when we come up for air.

Even something as simple as chosing wood stain colours is a mysterious and complex process in India. Or at least up here in our neck of the woods. First you buy something that is referred to as “varnish”. Then you buy “thinner”. Then you buy colour pigments and granules. You take them to the wood mystery who mixes the pigments into the solvent and makes a bunch of different possible colour samples and paints them on little pieces of wood.

You look at these and eliminate the most absurd - the greyish ashy colour, the ghastly yellows, narrowing your preferences down until the mystery can see sort of what you had in mind. He then mixes up more samples and you come back the next day when they’ve dried and pick what you think is the “final” colour. Then you go home and wait and, in a few hours, someone comes by with yet more little squares of wood with what the craftsman thinks you’ve chosen, with a coat of varnish over it so you can see what the final effect will be. There is quite a lot of variety in them so you take a felt tip marker and circle the place on the one you want, point an arrow to it and initial it. Hopefully, at that point, the wood mystery begins the mysterious process of staining and finishing all the woodwork - door frames, windows, etc. to the colour you think you’ve chosen. Haven’t gotten there yet - I just finished the circling, initialing and sending the guy back with the final chosen sample and praying like hell it can be duplicated!.

For whatever reason, the powers of the universe (or the Internet) have decided to eat the rest of the blog I wrote. This is extremely frustrating. I mean, it’s not like I exactly have oodles of time to play with words and pictures at the moment. Nyondo and I ran up to the house this morning to see the latest of the stain samples. I chose one and that’s now in process.  I hadn’t been up there for awhile so it was really neat to see how the beginnings of the house that looked like this:

now look like this:

and this:

The kitchen is coming along too and the counters will be at a height that won’t kill my back:

And, of course, the view is going to be wonderful to wake up to in the morning:

There was a bunch more that I wrote, but the rogue electrons ate it.