My last day with Dhondulp

                I will always think of my last day in Dharamsala as my happiest and my saddest. I spent the entire day with Dhondulp and left a few pieces of my heart with him as tears fell on to Dharamsala’s dusty and loving streets.

                I woke up from a text from Dhondulp and this is exactly what it said: “can we meet tomorow morning and evening 2 times? And then we both lunch together also. Is it ok?” I responded with a “my whole Friday belongs to you.” Instead of meeting two different times with a lunch in between I ended up spending the entire day, over 8 hours, with my dear friend Dhondulp. As soon as I finished my porridge, I left my house for the monastery.

 On my way, an old Tibetan man came up to me and started talking to me on the street while the rain tapped gently on my umbrella. He asked me how I was, how my morning was. I responded and asked him the same questions. Then he pulled out a little yellow bag from his pocket and said “I have a gift for you.” I asked him why and he just handed me the bag and said “put in your pocket.” I asked him if he was sure and he said “yes, yes, ver y sure.” He then pulled out some pills from his pocket and told me that he was sick and had just gone to the doctor. I told him that I hoped he felt better and he said “thank you, bye.” Alone in the rain, I examined the contents of my yellow bagged gift. Inside there are three rings and a red beaded bracelet. Two of the rings appear to be made out of bone, the other of tigers eye. When I told Dhondulp the story and showed him the gifts I asked him if it was some sort of Tibetan tradition to give gifts to strangers or if I was supposed to now give a gift to a complete stranger. Dhondulp said that it wasn’t any sort of tradition that he was aware of. He then said that when you get a gift, you write it in your diary with the exact date and write down the person’s name or in my case exactly what the “gifter” looks like. Then I can always go back and read about it and smile. August 10 seemed to be a day full of gifts so here it is: on August 10, 2012 a Tibetan man only a few inches taller than me with a very kind face who appeared to be in his late 60’s wearing a dark blue jacket came up to me on the street and gave me a gift. An hour later Dhondulp gave me a gift too, a book called “Beyond Religon” written by the Dalai Lama but signed by Dhondulp with a message written in his scrawl in Tibetan. A few hours after that, Dhondulp’s mother gave me a gorgeous scarf and bracelet. Just like Dhondulp said, I know that I’ll always read back on this blog entry and smile.

Dhondulp and I spent the beginning of our last day together in his room. It wouldn’t be us if there wasn’t a lot of laughing. However, we also had a fun conversation about reincarnation. I told Dhondulp that in my next life I plan to come back as a butterfly and live on flowers for approximately six weeks before I try this whole human experience thing again. Dhondulp was appalled at this and made me promise him I wouldn’t do it if I actually become presented with the choice after this life. He said that as a butterfly I wouldn’t see and appreciate the beauty of flowers that humans are capable of, he said that all I’d be able to think about would be survival and finding food. Dhondulp told me that I need to come back as human again next time so I can keep spreading love and compassion. He also told me that he would choose to come back as a westerner and I finally agreed to come back as a westerner again instead of a butterfly so that Dhondulp and I can hang out in our next lives together.

After our usual daily discussion, Dhondulp took me to a museum where I learned more about the Tibetan struggle. The museum was full of photos of Tibet before China barged in and it looked peaceful and beautiful, just like all of the Tibetans that I’ve met. There were so many heart wrenching stories of people who had been tortured by the Chinese because they refuse to denounce the Dalai Lama. To sum up everything that I’ve seen and learned by being in Dharamsala aka mini Tibet is that the Tibetan struggle is nothing short of a tragedy. There is no way they are ever getting their country back. China has modernized it and killed and displaced so many Tibetans that there are now more Chinese people in Tibet than Chinese people.  An entire culture, an entire way of life, an entire chunk of beautiful and peaceful land can only exist in memory and the will of the Tibetan people to keep in alive in other parts of the world. I put myself in their place and imagine what it would feel like to be so displaced. Once they escape, they can’t go back to Tibet. Though India takes them in as refugees, Tibetans still have no rights here. They can’t vote, they can’t own property, it’s difficult for them to get jobs, they can’t go home because it’s gone….

After the museum, Dhondulp and I stopped for coffee and gathered two of his friends before heading to his parents’ house. I will never forget how welcoming and loving his parents were. What truly amazing people, now I see where Dhondulp gets his lovingness. Immediately Dhondulp’s mother, especially, treated me as if I were family. Their appreciation of me teaching their son English every day for the past three weeks was overwhelming, they never ceased to gush praise in my direction. Dhondulp’s mother seems to be about 65 and Dhondulp told me prior to my meeting her that she loves western girls and requested that I talk to her a lot. As if I had a choice! The second the introductions were made, she grabbed my umbrella along with the other five that she was carrying, and took my hand in her other hand and we headed up a mountain to go have lunch at a pizza restaurant. The rest of the group trailed behind us because Dhondulp’s father at 80 years old and with his cane, had to take his time up the mountain. I have no idea where this pizza place was or if I could ever find it again, all I know is that  the walk took us an hour. The family kept telling me it was their favorite restaurant ever and that I was going to be amazed by the pizza. I thought to myself “it’ll be decent, but after all, I’m in India,” so I’ll say my expectations weren’t very high. HOLY SHIT, were my expectations shattered! This pizza was legitimately some of the best I have had in my life and worth every second of the hike there. Since Dhondulp’s family decided that I needed my own pizza, I felt obligated to eat five pieces. As I ate my pizza next to Dhondulp and across the table from his parents, my heart was melted by the lovingness that emitted from his mother. She tore her husband’s pizza in to tiny pieces and blew on them before putting them on his plate. Dhondulp’s father would then proceed to dip his pizza pieces in his chai tea so that they were chewable in his toothless mouth. I loved every minute of it.

When lunch was over, we all went outside for pictures. I was surprised at how eager his family was to get their pictures taken with me. Dhondulp’s mother then hugged me and presented me with the most beautiful scarf I have ever seen and a bracelet.  She grabbed my hands, looked me in the eye and thanked me from the bottom of her heart for teaching her son. I tried to explain that I got as much out of the relationship as Dhondulp did but she wouldn’t hear of it. She told me that her family is so lucky that I am going to continue to be Dhondulp’s teacher over email and skype. I told her that I am so very lucky to have found my best friend in the world in India. She just smiled, took my hand, and suggested that the whole group take the long way home over a beautiful mountain trail. We stopped at the top and Dhondulp’s mother said to me that she picked that path because it has the cleanest air she has ever breathed and wanted to show it to me. The spot, the view, the air, the energy, and especially the company were all quite breath taking. Once we got back to Dhondulp’s parents house it was 5:30 and they invited me in for tea but I had a package to pick up and I had promised the girls a night out of dinner, drinks, and hookah and knew I had to head home. So, I said goodbye to his parents and his friends. Then I looked at Dhondulp and started to cry. I had hoped to be able to hold in my emotion until after the goodbyes but I couldn’t get any words out so I just hugged him and walked down the hill. He yelled after me that he would call that night, which he did.

Picking up my package was a nice way to ease the heaviness that I felt after saying goodbye to my best friend. Waiting for me, was a 20 pound package full of supplies for the childcare center I volunteered in. The markers, puzzles, papers, books, stickers, games, etc brought so much light to my day. Though it was Friday night and I left early Saturday morning and thus couldn’t donate the supplies in person, I know that the girls will take them and the kids will be overjoyed. I couldn’t find anywhere to buy any of those things, not even crayons in Dharamsala. I don’t even know how to put in to words how much those supplies will be treasured.

I had a lovely last night in Dharamsala. The girls and I went out for dinner and beer at one of our favorite spots. We had good conversation, and of course played cards. Then we went out to a hookah bar since we hadn’t done that yet and they didn’t want me to leave without having had smoked hookah in India. The bar was actually really cool. It was a rooftop bar and it wasn’t raining so we got to enjoy Dharamsala from an aerial view. I’m not really sure what hookah is, I think it’s just flavored tobacco that you take turns smoking. We picked strawberry, it was yummy. Toward the end of the night, my stomach started to feel as if there were a little man inside with a knife just stabbing my gut. So, we went home where I laid in bed all night in the fetal position. Right before dawn settled in, I began puking my guts out. It marked the one day marker of my time in India and I finally got the famous “Delhi belly.” Instead of going in to the gory details, I will just say being really sick on the day that you have to do a lot of traveling is nothing short of hell. The cab driver who drove me from my house to the airport in Dharamsala had to pull over three times in thirty minutes so I could throw up all over the road. I look at it as leaving a little bit of me in Dharamsala…. On the plane ride to Delhi I clutched my stomach but the expelling of my insides started to cease. By the time I got to my hotel in Delhi all I could do was curl up and nap.

After some crackers, my first hot shower in a month and a nap in a real bed with clean sheets, I was feeling on the mend just in time to go with the airport shuttle to pick up Shane from the airport. My heart aches for Dharamsala but I am so excited to go on my last leg of my journey with Shane. We intended to leave for Jaipur today but since I’m still sick we decided to hang out in Delhi an extra day (never thought I’d choose to stay in Delhi again).  I showed Shane the lotus temple and it was really cool to revisit that site a month later and meditate in the white marble petals and give thanks for all of my experience, insight, and love I’ve gained. It was surreal to reflect on where I had been last time I was there and where I am now, only a short month later. Last time I sat in that cool and silent temple I was a totally different person. I hadn’t been to Dharamsala, I hadn’t found the aspects of India that feel like “home,” and most of all- that girl who sat encompassed in those massive marble slab petals a month ago and meditated and put a wish out in to the universe for a magical India experience, hadn’t yet met Dhondulp….