Beautiful Birds, Billhooks and Burning Fur

My day began with some excitement. This morning there was a big demosntration in the main square in front of the bus stand, the nerve center of McLeodganj, Upper Dharamsala.

The demonstration was in support of the Dalai Lama's pronouncement that it is unaccepatble for Tibetans to continue using endangered animal skins in their traditional costumes and ceremonies. A big crowd gathered and a pile of animal skins was collected from Tibetans who wanted to show they would do as the Dalai Lama asked and renounce the practice. Tibetan flags were unfurled and people squeezed together in a huge tight ring. Women and men and children of all ages crowded onto balconies of the surrounding buildings, they climbed onto boxes and even the buses and jeeps around the square just to see. More cries and applause went up each time someone came forward with an otter skin, a patch of leopard skin or a bit of tiger skin, all prized possessions and status symbols until the Dalai Lama's speech this past month. After about twenty minutes of this, petrol was poured onto the skins and they were set ablaze the flames rising high over everyone's heads. The people cheered and speeches were made. An hour later, the ashes were swept away and business was back to normal.

The demonstration was held today because on Monday, the day after market day, most businesses are closed. After the demonstration I went to my favorite restaurant in town for a masala tea and a pancake with honey. My next task was to hike to Ngawang's boarding school across the valley from town. I followed a small semi-paved one-lane road into the forest past the taxi stand and was soon far from the odors, crowds and noise of Upper Dharamsala. I was surrounded by a thick forest of dheodar pine trees and Himalayan oak and rhododendron. The steep, rocky slopes above and below me on either side of the road were carpeted in pine needles. If I walked slowly and quietly, I knew I could spot soem wildlife, adn sure enough before long I happened on a troupe of rhesus macacques, including some tiny baby monkeys learning from their parents how to forage for food. A little farther on about a half dozen yellow-billed blue magpies rustled through the trees, and then I came across some Gaddi women gathering fresh shoots from the trees for their livestock. Two women gathered branches as they fell to the ground as a third woman about twenty-five feet up in a tree severed the new growth with a billhook. She had no ropes and no safety net, of course, but she looked very comfortable and accostomed to the task..

I came to the piece of road below the Upper TCV school that Ngawang attends, and then had to climb a very steep, rocky, narrow path several hundred yards straight up to the ridge where the school is nestled far from the road. Then school was closed for the holidays but I managed to snap a few photos, and then carefuly picked my way back down to the road. Along the way I saw a few more Gaddi women herding big goats, maybe pashminas, along another mountain path. One of them carried a billhook, too. I saw a lot of birds on my mountain walk, including russet sparrows, great titmice, a white-tailed nuthatch, a rare Tytler's leaf warbler, an orange-flanked bush robin, several Himalayan bulbuls, common mynas, ravens, large-billed crows, black kites, a few Himalayan griffons, a steppe eagle and a rufous-bellied niltava. Not a bad birding trip for one day. I owe it to Jan Wilem den Besten's Birds of Kangra that I was able to identify all those species.

This evening I had dinner at Tsomo's again, and Ngawang and I colored in a coloring book, thumb-wrestled and played patty-cake while Tashi Dolma and Rinchen Tsomo made a special veg thenthuk with red carrots, Chinese celery tops, potatos, red onion, garlic, tomatoes and dried black wood mushrooms from China. I had brought a lollipop for Ngawang and some cooking oil for Tsomo. We talked about how much things cost in the USA, and how much people make each month at different jobs, and then we made plans for a walk to Bhagsu falls for group photos tomorrow.

Tomorrow is my last day here, and I will be very sad to leave my friends. I am not looking forward to Delhi, nor the eleven+ hour car ride to get there, but I know that I will be very happy to see clean sheets, safe water and Mrs. Hays and her home cooking again once I reach St. Louis.

Last night was kind of quiet. I wonder whether tonight will be peaceful, too.