The Shimla Adventures Pt. V - Chilling in the Institute

Ok, so these aren't technically the Shimla Adventures any more since we're now back in Tashi Jong, but I'm grouping all these posts together since I've made them all today.

If you are counting days, we are now onto Thursday, and from here onwards there is (a little) less to say. Having paid for the taxi, I collapsed into bed for a couple of hours whilst Mike lesson-planned. I woke up and he informed me that, actually, there were no lessons that day after all, and they began again on Friday (later confirmed by one of my advanced class lamas). So, after everything, we didn't really have to rush back at all. So, whilst Mike went down to Paprola, I read a bit and had lunch with the monks (rice and some veg stuff, to which I added a bit too much chili sauce!). I then went for a walk up to hill to the higher bits of the monastery complex (where the Rinpoche's residence is). I met a very healthy looking (and very bouncy) puppy with a collar on, so I assumed it wasn't a stray like most dogs here, but belonged to someone (Sanjauli also had puppies, which were not strays, so were infinitely healthier than ours). I also saw a white-terrier-like dog which was also very healthy. The puppy stopped following when I came back down (he obviously knew which house his meals were coming from). Having found none of the monks (or at least none in groups playing football, or anything like that), I returned to my room, wondering where on earth they were.

I went off again in search of lamas, and found a bunch of them (mainly Institute monks, with a couple of advanced class lamas) in the snooker hall. Outside, there were some locals playing a game which involved throwing coins about. Inside, the queue was too long to get a snooker game, but I played Jimmey (an Institute monk – see earlier posts) at chess (winning 3/3) and then his friend (losing 1/1). It turns out that the Institute monks are on holiday until Sunday. I then went with Jimmey to a restaurant in TJ (really just someone's kitchen) that I didn't know, until then, existed. I had some chai and watched a bit of Bangladesh vs. the Windies in the Twenty20, which was (and the monks there agreed) pretty boring.

I then got a tour of the Institute from Jimmey. They have a main teaching room with three statues: the Buddha, the founder of their lineage and one other Buddha who was a famous commentator on Buddhist writings, and some khata-adorned photos of the Dalai Lama, the 8^th Khamtrul Rinpoche (founder of TJ) and the 9^th Khamtrul Rinpoche (current president of TJ, more on whom in a bit). There are benches up and down the room and a comfy looking chair for the lecturer. He then showed me his room, shared with one other lama, which was smaller than ours, but quite nice. All the usual stuff like beds (well, mattresses barely raised off the ground), cupboard, book shelf and personal things like posters and photos were there. I was shown a poster of Jimmey's home village in the Kinnaur Valley (Eastern Himachal Pradesh) which was pretty beautiful with it's snow-topped mountain background. He gave me some dried fruit from his field and his brother's field (what fruit, I don't know as he didn't know the English for it, but it was very good). Both looked and tasted different due to different drying processes, and I was warned not to have too many as it can be bad for your stomach if you're not used to them. We talked about all sorts of stuff, and I helped out with his English. As it is very good, I tried to explain the subtleties of various words (like difference between enough and sufficient). I helped him out with his informal/slang as well (things like hold on, go ahead, etc. as opposed to swear words). His friends dropped in at various times and we got food at the Institute (a different sort of thukpa – there are apparently three – which was bit like cubes of gnocchi). I enjoyed the meal, as always.

We were joined for dinner in Jimmey's room by a lama of his age (about 25) and a mini-monk of just 11. It turns out that, contrary to what I thought, there are some little lamas in the Institute as well as the bigger ones. He was very shy about using English, but was coaxed into asking some things (what's your name, etc.). I did some reading practice with Jimmey from a book called 'The Big Win' – one of three books by Rob Childs which appear together in the anthology 'The Big Football Frenzy'. I can now (but won't, for your sanity and mine) recite the first two paragraphs from memory. Not, you understand, because he had to read it repeatedly, but because I did it again with someone else, and had to explain various phrases (like “he'd rather”) to them both. I was also asked by Lekshek (another monk with whom I read these two paragraphs) what 'frenzy' meant (harder to explain than you'd think) and what 'even' meant (when it meant despite, but he didn't know that word, so it was very hard to explain).

During the evening various monks and mini-monks came in (the little ones had to be encouraged by the older ones to try out some English) for a bit. Jimmey called Lekshek a sponge (Bharaat, one of the last pair of GAPpers, taught him that) for borrowing all his stuff, and our conversation took in every imaginable topic from who created the stars, to the movement of the sun and earth relative to each other (and hence night and day), to the Romans and Latin and its influence on the languages of Western Europe, to normal stuff like family and biscuits. Jimmey bought a pasty, which they called a big momo, and a pack of biscuits and I was obliged to eat all they sent my way, until I eventually had to politely refuse. It was a really good evening (though I dare say dull to read about) and it was good to chill with the monks. Mike missed out, saying he was tired from the bus ride (understandably). When I got back (probably 10pm or so, late by TJ standards) he was asleep already, so I went to bed as quietly as possible.

And so, to Friday. We got up late, but ready for lessons, only to discover (and are you surprised?) that there were no lessons. One of the Institute monks (Ngawang, probably mentioned in an earlier post) came along to chat (despite his very basic level of English). We found out that the Rinpoche returned from retreat on Friday, but that there was to be no party or celebration because of this.

Mike went off to Palampur to get his camera fixed, whilst I stayed around at TJ. Before lunch I met a Scottish nun who is based in TJ, who was looking for her Canadian friend who is staying in the hospital block where we are. She was very nice, and it was good to find another English speaker (even if she was Scottish!) to chat with. I did have to correct her, though, when she said Liverpool was north England, when everyone from Newcastle knows that the North stops when you hit Sunderland. Lunch was tingmo (anyone remember those from earlier?) and cabbage. Not exactly my favorite Tibetan food, I must admit. I then came back to the room and spent a good few hours typing up all of this on Mike's laptop. I've discovered that doing it this way saves me a lot of rupees in internet fees!

That evening was fairly uneventful. I went to dinner (Mike was asleep) and had rice and dhal (which I do like, far more than tingmo and cabbage). Later on, after reading a little bit, I went to the snooker hall to see what was going down there, whilst Mike went down to Davat's Tourist Restaurant in Paprola (see earlier posts). I found a bunch of monks, a mixture of my advanced class and a few I didn't recognise. The queue for the snooker table was, once again, too long, and I played a couple of games of chess, getting beaten twice. I really should have won the second match, and indeed would have done if I hadn't let the other guy get away with (accidentally, I think) cheating to take one of my castles. I'm just too kind, no? It was odd being surrounded by people speaking Tibetan and/or Hindi, and not understanding a word, but at least they try a little bit of English with me when I'm around.

And so, finally, we come to today: Saturday. And there is really nothing to say. I got up, read a little, walked down to Paprola. Was stopped on the way by five Indian men with virtually no English, who were working on the road. They made all sorts of gestures I didn't understand, and shook my hand to introduce themselves. They were a very odd bunch - one old guy with few teeth, and the few he had stuck out in all directions, two fairly well kept middle-aged men, one younger guy with the tiniest smattering of English and another chap with the most disconcerting right eye in history - it was, I think, a glass eye, as it was a totally different size and wasn't looking at anything in particular (certainly not at what the other eye was watching), it had a tiny pupil and iris, whilst the white of his eye was massive and visible all the way around. Anyway, I made my excuses and left them (they said something about a picnic and money, and I claimed I had neither of those).

I reached Paprola, came to the Internet café and waited ages for blogspot to load, whilst checking out the news and emails, etc. I saw two things of note: firstly England getting trashed by S. Africa (and Scotland trashing someone rubbish), and secondly that this week's NME comes with a free copy of the 'Delivery' 7" (by the Shambles).

Anyway, there is one more post to come, which concerns various unrelated things.