Out of all my friends who proclaimed they would be following me out to India, Emma was the only one who actually didn't spend all her money on something else. Evidently the lure of my company and the myriad of shiny things was just too much to pass up on. She was only here for ten days, which really isn't enough time, but then I am realising that ten months really isn't enough time to see everything, never mind little over a week.
The trip consisted of:
1. [To be said with a loud and obnoxious posh English accent, over and over again. Repeat at top of voice in the presence of English students on their Gap Yah for added effect and thus added hilarity] "This one time I was Literaaaally in Buuurma...and I just CHUNDERED all oover a monk! Yeah I know, I know...out on the laaash the night before...Best night of my LIFE!" (We modified it for the Dharamsala high-monk contingent). Hilarity. Particularly as Dharamsala had not too few Gap Yahs.
2. Went to Agra for the fourth time. Spent a disproportionate amount of that time in Costa coffee trying to cool selves down. Emma agrees: Agra is not somewhere to go to twice if you can help it, let alone four times. At least I am damned sure I will never ever go back there.
3. Dharamsala was amazing! It was very Alpine and the hills had red rhododendron bushes on them and the houses were built into the hill sides. There were little prayer flags everywhere and then the huge gold brass prayer wheels and the multi-coloured houses. It was very peaceful, very clean and very enjoyable. I bought a lot of stuff, including a fairly ridiculous Kashmiri embroidered and fringed hippy handbag that I am sort of proud of. Lauren and Emma went all out and bought Kashmiri hand-embroidered scarves - most posh. There was a lot of Buddhist regalia, including a lot of life size photographs of the Dalai Lama and Obama. I almost felt like nicking one to bring it home for Frances. Unfortunately His Holiness was not in residence at that point so, quel suprise, we couldn't turn up at his door step. We did wander round the temple complex that he lives in however. There were a couple of white guys carrying out ritualised prostrations in front of one of the temples. Lauren went on a rant about how Buddhism is a rejection of ritual. She knows a lot about it, and I don't, so I won't try and replicate what she said exactly here as I will get it wrong. Either way: ritual has no base in Buddhism. One night we managed to completely freak out a man in a wool shop by trying on all his hats, making ridiculous comments about the wool animals, and generally by giggling insanely at every single little thing we or he did. In the end he was giggling as well and he became our new best friend. He seemed a bit drunk and it was maybe just as well; three giggling and hyper white girls in a woolen goods store is never easy to deal with without some Dutch courage. The Tibetan refugee museum was very good as well actually. It is very interactive, with a lot of photography and relics from Tibet brought by the refugees now living in Dharamsala. The whole town was full of refugee rehabilitation programs, like tailors or coffee places run by them. Some of the refugee stories were absolutely terrible. Many walked over the Himalayas to come to Dharamsala or somewhere similar. Imagine walking in all that snow for days on end with no equipment. Think of the frost bite if nothing else. There were bloodied shirts the prisoners wore in the Chinese prisons. All very educational, enlightening, and highly depressing. But you got the impression that they knew that people needed to be educated about the whole thing, not just yell 'Free Tibet' because it is a popular thing to say.
I am very glad we went. I wish we had stayed longer.
4. Emma managed to stay well until the last night of her trip. Apparently her mother declared she had dissentry and then that she had Dengue Fever. Interesting. I think, from my own experiences of having had said illness many many times in the past eight months, that it was good old fashioned, top-grade Delhi Belly. Most unfortunate, but definitely not life-threatening with the twin elixirs of Ciproxin and Coca Cola to immediate hand. Got to love Christine's worry for her. Evidently India is a killer. It was very unfortunate though coming back to the all too familiar sight of Emma lying on the bathroom cubicle floor being sick into a bucket. I felt for her. I knew her pain. I doubt that helped any, but at least I was aware of what she was going through as it were. She also managed to pick up a drive-by grope that night (in Muckherjee Nagar of all places where usually there are very few problems with the men...) which was incredibly unlucky and probably didn't help the stomach trouble any. Men on motorbikes are bastards and never ever to be trusted. Not a good evening in many respects.
I highly enjoyed her being here. I wish she had stayed longer and that we could have travelled more. However it is possibly best she didn't, not just due to the illness, but also because she would have run out of money. Oh, the shiny things...:D "Chundered" is our new phrase-du-jour. It never stops being funny, ever. If anyone reading this hasn't yet seen the genius of the Gap yah video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKFjWR7X5dU
Welcome to a small piece of my life in India. We get a lot of these.
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