Goodbye, Dasa

This will be my last post from Dharamsala. I spent the day on preparations for the next phase of my journey, changing the last of my money to pay the hotel bill, my driver and incidentals between here and IGI airport on Friday night. I bought a couple little gifts for Rinchen Tsomo and Tashi Dolma, and then had lunch at their place. We ate fried rice with white mushrooms, red carrots, and spicy masala with red chilis. Ngawang and I colored in her Dora the Explorer coloring book, and she showed off her improvements as a rope-skipper, and then we took a long walk to the next town over, Bhagsunag, which is home to a temple to Shiva and a sacred waterfall. The weather was beautiful today, and we saw red-billed parakeets, lots of kites, vultures and eagles, and some more warblers I will have to look up in my bird book.

We walked along the narrow one lane road that winds around the mountain behind Dharamsala. Far below the Kangra valley was greener than ever, and the Shivalik hills in the distance were layers of gauzy blue. We passed Tibetan monks and nuns, Gaddi women, Punjabi tourists and local school kids with smart blue uniforms and square satchels strapped to their backs. Once we passed through Bhagsu we arrived at the river valley below the falls, which cuts through a steep granite scrub-covered gorge. A local dog adopted us and walked by my heels all the way to the falls and back along the narrow ledge path. Once we'd climbed to the falls, Ngawang played in the water for a while and then Tsomo asked me to take picturs of the two of them that she could take to Tibet in a month or so to show her mother. When we got back to Tsomo's, we had some khapse and milk tea, and then said our goodbyes. Tsomo gave me a Tibetan grammar book, and then Tsomo and Ngawang each placed a white katag around my neck and touched their foreheads to mine in the traditional Tibetan manner, and then wished me a safe trip. I walked back to my hotel and began the task of packing everything carefully for the trip home. I had, and still have, mixed up feelings about leaving.

There is every chance I will never see this town, Tsomo, Ngawang and Dolma again. I wish there were some way I could just make sure that they will be okay, that they will be safe and happy and healthy, but of course I can't. I will just go back to the other side of this planet and continue my life, just as they will continue theirs. The first and biggest truth is that we do not control the world around us. That makes me sad, but making the best of what is offers the only hope of happiness, and so that is what I will do--make the best of what is. I will have a long plane ride in a couple days to start to figure out how to do that in this case. I wish making other people's lives okay was easier.

I just came from eating a grilled spinach-cheese sandwich at the Moon Peak coffee house, where I met Lobsang, a young Tibetan man who wanted to talk about rock music with me while I ate. Lobsang spent two years in a Nepali prison for immigration violations, or at least that was his story. He showed me his prison tattoos and we talked about a lot of things together. Nice guy. Big fan of Coldplay, Free and a band called Rainbow. It is almost 8pm here, so I will head back to my room to get some sleep.

Tomorrow I will let go of Dharamsala, but I doubt that it will ever let go of me.