International Hookah Sessions, Dancing with Miss Tibet, and Overcoming Hotel Adversity

Hello from Rishikesh! I apologize for keeping you all in suspense for so long, but...No, I did not meet His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Sadly, there seems to be a lot of mis-information and rumors regarding His Holiness' appearances in Dharamsala, so no dice for us. We did, however, meet many many Buddhist monks who have met him and have told us, as expected, that he is an amazing person and very very funny.
Our time in Dharamsala was unique because, lucky for us, we had a local to show us around. Way back in San Diego, my travel buddy Juliana was browsing the local swap meet when she came across a man selling Tibetan relics and struck up a conversation with him. She told him she was soon departing for India, and the man excitedly replied that his family lives in Dharamsala and he gave her his brother's phone number and insisted we call him when we arrived. So we did, and for the duration of our stay we were shown around town by Thupten, who is one of the man's brothers and probably one of the genuinely nicest people I've ever met. He took us around to all the Tibetan temples, all the best Tibetan restaurants, and even took us to the Tibetan Center for Performing Arts, where many young Tibetans were rehearsing for the upcoming Miss Tibet Pageant.
Thupten is the assistant to the organizer of the Miss Tibet Pageant, which is held annually in Dharamsala. We were able to see first-hand the preparations for the pageant, which began on June 6th (after we had departed Dharamsala). Thupten admitted to being extremely busy and frantic the entire time we were there, but never ever lost his cool and always took the time each day to meet up with us and show us a little bit more of Dharamsala. Such a cool guy. One night there was to be a welcoming party for the four Miss Tibet contestants and for all the people who helped organize the event, and Thupten invited us as well. The reason there are so few contestants in the Miss Tibet pageant, Thupten explained, was that Tibetan women are typically very shy, conservative, and reserved, and very hesitant to participate in an event which requires them to speak out for their country and for the rights of all citizens of their country, so having even four young women participate in such an event is a source of great pride for all Tibetans. When I spoke to the main organizer, he said he was quite happy with the outcome, but also admitted to be frustrated with the low number of participants and said next year, he wants at least ten. So, the party was quite a fun time. Free food, free booze, great tunes, and gorgeous Tibetan woman. Good times. We sat and drank and talked for a while, but once you combine drinking and music, dancing is bound to happen. I danced with several of the contestants for a while and had a pretty interesting conversation with one of them. At one point later in the night she shyly asked "So based on what you've seen, who do you think is going to be Miss Tibet?" I smiled at her and said "Oh that's easy! You, of course!" She liked that response. There came a point in the conversation where she admitted she couldn't understand what I was trying to ask, but fortunately, Michael Jackson came on the speakers and I said "Nevermind, let's dance!" If there's one universal language, it's good ol' MJ :)
Earlier in our stay in Dharamsala, we befriended a guy named Kenny who was working for the Tibet Post. He invited us out one night for a going-away party for his co-worker so we gladly came along. We had some coffee and ice cream but pretty soon found ourselves just three people, since the rest of the gathering "had to get to bed early." Laaame. So we found a rooftop hookah bar and sat on some pillows near a low, round table and asked for a hookah. As it turns out, this hookah bar is in possession of one, single hookah, which was being used by two Israeli girls nearby. The owner told us we had to wait one hour before it became available. I didn't feel like waiting, so we simply asked the Israeli ladies if we could join in. They said sure, and three was now five. After a pleasant conversation in a Hebrew-English hybrid, I found out that one of the girls knew my cousin's best friend back in the Holy Land. Small world, huh? No, not really. We just say that when situations like those arise.
It seems that news of this singular hookah spread quickly, because not ten minutes later, five became seven, the latest addition being two Indian girls on vacation from Delhi (where at the time, temperatures were in the high 110s). A few coals and several Kingfisher (the beer of choice in India...very strong) liter-sized bottles after that, we had one hookah and about eighteen people smoking, drinking, talking, and dancing with us. This group consisted of citizens from Israel, India, New Zealand, Canada, China, England, France, Egypt, and of course, the good ol' US of A. During my drunken good time, I made sure to take a moment and remember this event. I found it pretty darn cool how through one hookah and a few (OK, not a few, a lot) beers people from so many different places can come together for a night and have a great time as if we'd known each other for years. What a great model for foreign relations. Maybe the UN should start having keggers?
After being gently kicked out of the bar, we went to one of the party people's hotel rooms to keep the party going. That lasted maybe ten minutes, and we were kicked out again. Fine. One my way out of the hotel, I was going down a dark staircase quite fast and banged my forehead on those roll-down steel doors so hard it left a mark for a week. Yay for drunken injuries. I stepped out onto the street and after realizing I had no idea where I was, I took three steps and found my hotel. What luck. Another party-goer was staying at the same hotel and confessed to having two more liter-sized Kingfishers in his bag, so we sat on the roof of our hotel drinking, with an amazingly clear full moon providing the lighting. I then realized I couldn't remember the last time I had heard a night as quiet and peaceful as this one.
The next day, while battling a relentless hangover, we came back to our hotel after dinner and found a scorpion in our sink. Not a spider, not a cockroach, a scorpion. And not a little one, either. After spending many many minutes deciding what should be done about it, we opted to cover him with a small pitcher provided by our hotel and then set a melon on top of the pitcher in case the guy was stronger than we thought. Oh yeah, Thupten gave me a melon earlier, so, we had a melon to use. I had never seen a scorpion in real life before (except maybe behind a layer of protective glass), so I had no idea how it would react to anything we did. With the scorpion trapped, we slept a very uneasy sleep and first thing the next morning, packed our bags and went looking for a new hotel.
We found a nice hotel along the next street, and since our room was on the third floor, we felt safer than we did before from different types of arachnids that might want to share our beds. Our previous room was along a slope of a hill and it had rained the day before, so we guessed the scorpion was trying to keep dry. So we go out and grab a bite to eat and when we come back, a British couple staying one door over from us approaches me and asks "S'cuse me, you didn't by chance see an iPhone around, did you?" I told them I hadn't, and they said they're pretty sure it was stolen. They had gone out on the common balcony for not even ten minutes, but had left their door open and when they returned, no iPhone. Maybe they just left it in a bag or something. The next day, the hotel manager comes and asks us to give him our passports for record-keeping, because there had been a robbery at the hotel. Upon further questioning, we find out that the man staying directly across from us had befriended a local Indian man who had drugged him while having tea in his room and then stole all his cash, credit cards, and camera. Sheesh, what luck. We go from a scorpion in one place to a thief in another. And to make matters even worse for the man across the hall, the drugs he had been given had apparently done a number on his digestion, because the day after the robbery, we came back to the hotel to find little pieces of human feces leading all the way from the lobby, up the two flights of stairs, and directly across from our room. As if having your stuff stolen wasn't bad enough, he had the digestive discomfort and the embarrassment of having shat all over the hotel to deal with. And I won't go into much detail about it, but the smell was f**king horrific. Ugh.
But, even with those little bits of adversity to overcome, Dharamsala was an amazing place with scenery like I've never had the pleasure of seeing before. Seeing the snow-covered foothills of the Himalayas every day just makes you a little happier than usual. Everyone we met was extremely friendly and I will definitely miss it.
And now I am back in Rishikesh for the final leg of my Indian journey. I am staying at an ashram here (just like the Beatles did) and it is SO relaxing. My days have become a bit of a routine, but a very welcome one. Wake up, eat breakfast, read and/or draw, eat lunch, take a nap, walk around the gorgeous grounds and admire the many statues of the various Indian deities, do yoga, meditate, eat dinner, read some more, go to bed. Ok, so it's not quite that routine. Yesterday, for example, I had my first sitar lesson and it is nothing like playing a guitar. My index finger in both hands throbbed and ached for the entire day as a result of a single, one-hour lesson, but it was so worth it! Once I caught a good groove on the sitar, my teacher got on the tablas (small Indian drums similar to bongos) and we were jammin'! I even had my eyes closed and head bobbing around to the hypnotic sounds, almost as if I knew what I was doing. We then listened to many Indian sitar masters on his computer and of course, talked about George Harrison.
I have about a week left here on this incredible sub-continent before I take off to Italy so I hope to give you all one more entry before I depart. I am already making plans to come back and further experience this country. While I feel I have seen so much during my time here, I know I have seen so very little. This is a journey I would highly recommend to anyone and everyone, especially for those who want to see something "different." No amount of mental preparation can ready you for actually being in India, but to me, that's what makes the place so darn interesting.

Take care, my friends!

-Matan

P.S. To make up for the disappointment of not meeting the Dalai Lama, I'll leave you with a joke instead, courtesy of my good friend Raphael:

What did the Dalai Lama say to the hotdog vendor?

Make me one with everything.