When people think of Dahramsalla, they usually mean McLeod Ganj. This little village is the seat in exile of the Tibetan government and the residence of the Dalai Lama. When Israelis think of Dahramsalla they usually mean Bahgsu, a peaceful guesthouse-strewn village that houses on of India's "Israeli colonies" - where are you are far more likely to find Falafel on the menu than Thali or Momo.
It seems that allot of the area's charm relies on the suspension of disbelief. The peaceful scenery all around is constantly interrupted by the sound of horns, the litter spread across the roads and fields and the running sewage that has taken control of the water lines in town.
When V. S. Naipaul was writing of 1980's India, he was comparing the sometimes helpful and sometimes harmful qualities of the British occupation of the country, and the growing sense of westernization that had taken control of the country after it had achieved independence. Whether this is attributed to post-colonial development or to the world wide phenomena of globalization, I feel that India is trying to achieve a "Western feel" at a speed which is self destructive. The immense change caused by the touristic boom in the area forces the merchants to equip themselves with products that are not endemic to the region. And indeed, the city is slowly drowning under piles of used water bottles, the tiny streets are gridlocked for many hours every day due to Tibetan pilgrimage and touristic traffic and the underwater sewage system has great difficulties in remaining underwater (to put it nicely).
The town does offer great courses for those interested in Ayurvedic massage, Yoga, meditation, wood carving, jewel making and many more, The hamlets around offer nice day walks and best of all - stepping outside to my balcony I can catch a great view of the Greater Himalayas, and a snow topped peak just up ahead at 4,300m.
And this actually brings me to my main issue - what the hell am I supposed to do here?
Ever since I can remember myself I have always been very aware on how I spend my time. This is not to say that I don't have an inclination to bouts of laziness, because I do, but I tend to hate myself for them. And here I am, in a place where so many people around me are content in spending three weeks in the same spot, not moving, not working, not doing anything actually. How can they stand it?! And I'm not talking about boredom, because it's always easy to fill up the hours. Waking up late, chai, a stroll in the market, chai, lunch, nap, chai, dinner, chai. The days really speed by. But I can feel a type of anxiety creeping up on me. Something in the back of my head that's telling me that I should be somewhere else right now, only I have no idea where that somewhere else is.
My thoughts drift to the next step in my journey. Places I look at in the map remind me of Naipaul's accounts. When I read about Armitsar I think about the massacres of the 80's and when I look at Kolkata I think about the story of a city that is slowly collapsing into itself, due to lacking infrastructures and management. How does one, and for that matter, why would one want to separate the negative sides of the coin that is this country for the sole purpose of maintaining an escapist experience?
And yet, the people around me all seem to be floating on some kind of fluffy pink cloud (and no, not all of them are under various chemical influences) that allows them to see beauty in everything they look at.
I still don't know why I'm here, and I think the first order of business is figuring that one out. So many people in my life have told me that I am one of the people that can't turn off their brains. Maybe this is so, which means that the only way I can find peace on my way is by figuring out where it is that I'm headed. And if that path has good food on the way, oh well, so be it!
It seems that allot of the area's charm relies on the suspension of disbelief. The peaceful scenery all around is constantly interrupted by the sound of horns, the litter spread across the roads and fields and the running sewage that has taken control of the water lines in town.
When V. S. Naipaul was writing of 1980's India, he was comparing the sometimes helpful and sometimes harmful qualities of the British occupation of the country, and the growing sense of westernization that had taken control of the country after it had achieved independence. Whether this is attributed to post-colonial development or to the world wide phenomena of globalization, I feel that India is trying to achieve a "Western feel" at a speed which is self destructive. The immense change caused by the touristic boom in the area forces the merchants to equip themselves with products that are not endemic to the region. And indeed, the city is slowly drowning under piles of used water bottles, the tiny streets are gridlocked for many hours every day due to Tibetan pilgrimage and touristic traffic and the underwater sewage system has great difficulties in remaining underwater (to put it nicely).
The town does offer great courses for those interested in Ayurvedic massage, Yoga, meditation, wood carving, jewel making and many more, The hamlets around offer nice day walks and best of all - stepping outside to my balcony I can catch a great view of the Greater Himalayas, and a snow topped peak just up ahead at 4,300m.
And this actually brings me to my main issue - what the hell am I supposed to do here?
Ever since I can remember myself I have always been very aware on how I spend my time. This is not to say that I don't have an inclination to bouts of laziness, because I do, but I tend to hate myself for them. And here I am, in a place where so many people around me are content in spending three weeks in the same spot, not moving, not working, not doing anything actually. How can they stand it?! And I'm not talking about boredom, because it's always easy to fill up the hours. Waking up late, chai, a stroll in the market, chai, lunch, nap, chai, dinner, chai. The days really speed by. But I can feel a type of anxiety creeping up on me. Something in the back of my head that's telling me that I should be somewhere else right now, only I have no idea where that somewhere else is.
My thoughts drift to the next step in my journey. Places I look at in the map remind me of Naipaul's accounts. When I read about Armitsar I think about the massacres of the 80's and when I look at Kolkata I think about the story of a city that is slowly collapsing into itself, due to lacking infrastructures and management. How does one, and for that matter, why would one want to separate the negative sides of the coin that is this country for the sole purpose of maintaining an escapist experience?
And yet, the people around me all seem to be floating on some kind of fluffy pink cloud (and no, not all of them are under various chemical influences) that allows them to see beauty in everything they look at.
I still don't know why I'm here, and I think the first order of business is figuring that one out. So many people in my life have told me that I am one of the people that can't turn off their brains. Maybe this is so, which means that the only way I can find peace on my way is by figuring out where it is that I'm headed. And if that path has good food on the way, oh well, so be it!
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