post, which was sad, but a good lesson in non-attachment. I'm in
Pachmari now, a hill station in south-central Madhya Pradesh. We're
almost out of the tropics! That was a realization Kyle and I had a
week back - almost all of India is in the tropics! "Duh," you might
say. But it's hard to believe when you're actually here at this time
of year, 'cause everything is so dry. When I think of tropics I think
of warm rain and mountainous jungles, not an arid plain. So much for
generalizations.
Anyway, for point of reference, Delhi is at about the same lattitude
as San Diego. That makes the Himalayas about equivalent to the
southern Sierra. Except twice as high. It's still quite cold and
snowy there, needless to say - but I look forward to seeing some real
mountains come April.
For now, there's the hills of Pachmari, and guess what? It rained
today! For the first time since I arrived. And it rained hard, with
thunder! I donned my raincoat and swimsuit and went outside and got
absolutely soaked. Sought refuge in a cave, where some saddhus were
smokin' a chillum' and listenin' to da thunda.
The half-post the computer ate was about Ellora and Ajanta caves.
Them's temples carved into the "living" rock. Or into a basalt cliff,
anyways. It's quite impressive - every horizontal surface made into
Buddhas or mandalas or elephants or Gods. Thousands of years old.
Carved with iron tools. An impressive display of workmanship,
religious dedication, and kingly power.
I'm beginning to think more about home. Not the location, per se, but
mainly the fact that I belong there. In India you're always aware
that you're an outsider. I'm also tiring of being a tourist - gettin'
eager to do something "productive," whatever that means.
We're learning more and more about Hinduism, and about how the caste
system and reincarnation allow people to accept their lot in life. If
they're low-caste, it means they sinned in a past life, and through
dedicated worship and self-effacement in this life they will be reborn
higher caste. An opiate for the masses. Makes social reform
difficult. On the other hand, the great Hindu epics promote good
morals like honesty and justice and frown on lust, greed, etc.
Kyle and I wrote a song a few days ago that I'd like to share. It's a
parody to the tune of "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay."
Sittin' in the Indian sun,
I'll be sittin' when the bus finally comes.
Watchin' the trucks honk in,
And I'll watch 'em honk away again.
I'm just sittin' by the side of the road,
A-waitin' a bus to Jalgaon.
Sittin' by the side of the road, wastin' time...
I left my home in Cali,
Flew right round half of the world.
Landed in a country,
Where the boys can't touch the girls.
Sittin' by the side of the road,
A-waitin' the bus to Jalgaon.
Sittin' by the side of the road, wastin' time...
Looks like nothin's gonna change,
Everything still remains the same.
You may live on a dollar a day,
But we're lookin' the other way...
The bus will come I know,
But I hope it ain't overflowin'.
Headed for Jalgaon,
Just one more stop then I'm goin' home.
Sittin' by the side of the road,
A-waitin' a bus to Jalgaon.
Sittin' by the side of the road, wastin' time...
Note to Mom: sorry, the line about coming home isn't true, it just fit
in the rhyme scheme.
Well, I gotta go. We're eating dinner tonight with a family I met
this afternoon. They're one of the smiliest, laughiest, and most
importantly un-selfconsciousest families I have met so far. I'm
really looking forward to being with them again.
If these posts seem at all paradoxical, good. That's how this country seems.
Love,
Josh
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