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I’m still in Dharamsala, Dharamkot to be specific, a bit over schedule due to some serious shitting (literally speaking). But let’s start from the beginning…

The last day in Delhi

My last day in Delhi was quite some fun. I booked my bus trip to Dharamsala from my Guesthouse. Looking back it was too expensive (of course), but I don’t mind. They also organized a guy for my who was supposed to bring me to the place where the bus was leaving. And this guy was worth every rupee I paid too much. He arrived a few minutes before (!) the appointed time with his motor roller (!!) to bring me to the place.

Now imagine that: I have a huge and quite heavy backpack, a heavy day pack for my camera equipment (which I wear on front), a small camera bag (on one side) and a side bag (on the other side). Packed with all this I mounted his motor roller behind him. When he first accelerated his front wheel left the ground. No Problem.

Packed like this we cruised through all the chaos of Pahar Ganj. Remember my description of Pahar Ganj? Add this motor roller to it… My driver turned his head after every hippie girl we passed and and shouted something to her (in a funny way). I couldn’t get the grin off my face.

When we arrived at the place, the guy asked me if I had my ticket. I said that I was told he would give it to me (later I discovered that I actually had my ticket, just forgot about that fact). He didn’t have my ticket (of course not), but he assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem. The guy stayed with me until my bus arrived (about 40 mins) and during all the time he was singing, making jokes with other tourists waiting there as well and defused a situation with some guy who claimed that he was being cheated. He managed all this in a very shanti way. Really, he was the antithesis to Delhi: No cheating, polite and funny. When it finally was time to say goodbuy I gave hime a tip of 50 rupees and told him that I liked his style. 50 rupees is not a small tip but also not a fortune. His reaction was so cute. He had a huge grin on his face. He made extra sure that I would find my seat inside the bus and said goodbuy a second time, then left on his roller, but not without passing the bus and waving goodbuy for a third time. He then turned around and passed the bus a second time, blew his horn and waved goodbuy for a forth time. With a huge grin on his face. It seemed to me like it was happening in slow motion. Nice. I like to believe that he wassn’t so happy about the money, but because I told him that I liked his style of managing things. He gave me his number and I wanted to recommend him, but it seems that I lost it. Damn.

Dharamkot - The Spiritual Supermarket

I arrived in McLeod Ganj after a very exhausting 15 hours bus ride in which we only had one dinner break at a too expensive dhaba with bad food. How bad it really was should show a day later. The first night I stayed directly in McLeod Ganj, because I was too tired to go up to Dharamkot and look for a room there. McLeod Ganj is a melting pot of local Indian people, Tibetan refugees, Buddhist monks, Indian tourists (mostly from Punjab or Delhi), “normal” western Tourists, tibet-fan Tourists, hippie travelers and some cows. In that respect it hasn’t changed very much, except for the Indian tourists, there haven’t been so many of them 10 years ago. This first night my stomach problems started. I was shitting like hell. I won’t elaborate too much on that, only so much: I’ve been shitting like hell for about 6 days and only this morning my stomach is going back to “normal”. All this time I felt very weak and not up to the task of the heavy traveling which lies ahead of me. So I stayed much longer than originally planned…

The next day I went up to Dharamkot, a small village ca. 20 mins on foot uphill from McLeod Ganj. I stayed here 10 years ago and had very good memories of this place. I also brought some photos of kids I made here 10 years ago and wanted to give to the family I stayed with back then.

I was told before that Dharamkot had changed but, to be honest, I didn’t expect to see what I saw: The number of houses build into the hill has at least doubled, maybe tripled. Where there were only family houses which rented some rooms to travelers and one restaurant (Trek&Dine), there were now guesthouses, restaurants, shops for clothes and jewelery everywhere. Signs for yoga classes, meditation, energy something, reiki, hindi lessons, contact dance, shiatsu, you name it. I guess it had to happen. I saw the beginning of it 10 years ago. Already back then there were some yoga and reiki classes there. But the sheer amount shocked me. The place around the Trek&Dine which was really nice before, with some houses and fields inbetween, has been transformed into a complex of buildings without any space inbetween.

If you go into a restaurant, you could hear the folks talking about energy fields, “yoga was nice”, “reiki was nice”, everything is nice around here. Too much, people, too much, really tooo much. Honestly, I’m all for yoga and meditation. I even made some reiki once, and it works, don’t ask me how, I can’t explain it, and that bugs me a little, but it works. But here it’s like: “Come on in, choose what you like. Some reiki? Didn’t like it? Then try some yoga instead. Good prices, my friend. Welcome to the spiritual supermarket.”

It’s not all bad, though. The landscape is still amazing! There are still some great local people around (ghaddi!). The guesthouse where I’m staying is indeed “very nice”. One of the houses most uphill and a bit away from the action. The people who stay with me in the guesthouse are “nice” (no, really). One older lady for example, who is offering something like reiki (forgot the name of the practice), originally from Australia has been living in India for 16 years now. We had a lengthy discussion about all this “spiritual overkill” (and about all the problems in this world, yes we covered it all). I was going all sarcastic about it, but in a funny way, and we somehow agreed about it.Or Marc, who smokes 10 joints a day (he’s Irish) and just phoned his mother to tell her that he won’t come back, but will stay in India open end. Or the Israeli couple, yes nice Israelis do exist.

Two days ago I had a walk to the waterfall on the other side of the ridge. Somehow not many westerners make it there. I had an amazing walk, great landscape and beautiful sunset. Watched some locals playing cards. And met some half-germans who were born here and spoke fluently hindi.

The other day I was visiting the family I stayed with 10 years ago to give them some photos. Oh, that was so great! A lot of fun and laughter. The mother said that she remembered my face, though I doubt it a bit, after 10 years and so many guests. The father arrived a bit later and he was exactly like I remembered him. One of the kindest persons I ever met, in his own way, if not the kindest. We sat on the veranda, drank some chai together, he offered me a beedie. He looked at the photos. And only spoke a word or grunted here and there. All this without any smile. Why do I think that he is the kindest person? It’s all in the atmosphere of being welcome he generated by his calmness. I really can’t describe it. It was the most normal thing for him, not worth of making a big deal out of it, or being overly polite. When it was time for me to leave he said: “All day you are here. You come, drink chai.”. He didn’t make it sound like an invitation, but like a statement. That’s the kind of man he is. After that I decided, that I finally have arrived in India. I then walked down to McLeod Ganj with a huge smile on my face.

Down in McLeod Ganj, I was sitting at my old beloved chaishop. The owner hasn’t changed a bit. Good. While I was sitting outside and watching the people walking by I spotted someone who looked familiar. Paul! Paul was staying in the same house as me 10 years ago. Imagine my surprise! Back then he was studying for his reiki master and was giving me some free sessions. He was the guy who convinced me (by experience) that there is something to it. He now lives in Pondicherri (although originally from Malta) and was only in McLeod Ganj for a few days. How are the odds!

My stomach is o.k. again and finally I feel fit enough to go on with my travels. Sunday my bus to Shimla is leaving and then as fast as possible from Shimla to Rekong Peo. It’s time to see places I haven’t been to before. Dharamkot after all was a good lesson. Things change. I now can close this chapter of working on my old memories of India and start a new chapter of making new ones.