Pieces, and the Places Where They Fall

So, I moved to the Bronx. It's ideally non-ideal. I'm renting a spare room in my friend's apartment, and he's only asked me to pay $200 a month. That is inexpensive enough that I can save up to return to Dharamsala following graduation. It's also so far removed from my usual social scene that I simply won't participate in it this semester, which is helpful for cutting attachments before leaving the city for good.

I ran into the Dean and Associate Dean of my college at school last week, and had the opportunity to talk to both of them together regarding changing my senior thesis topic so that I can continue with what I started in my final paper for the Dharamsala program. They were both very supportive, especially after I told them how much I appreciated the program and my plans to return. For once someone finally said there's no point in writing my senior work just to do it; that it should be relevant to my future research interests. So they're going to help me find an advisor, and lifted a registration hold on one of the classes I will need to take this semester in order to change my specialization from Literature and Religion to Buddhist Studies. Now all I have to do is wait and see if the professor they have in mind as an advisor will agree to work with me. Oh, I do have to write a new proposal, but it shouldn't be too difficult considering I already have an 8 page paper to work with and an abundance of sources from this summer. I plan on busting it out this weekend.

Also, I've been going to Cafe Himalaya up to three times a week for momos and milk tea. It is a little taste of Tibet in New York.

Otherwise, I have been doing some preliminary research into volunteer opportunities in Dharamsala. Right now it seems Volunteer Tibet is my strongest option, with numerous volunteer positions for English teachers and tutors in Dharamsala and other regions, including Sikkim and Kathmandu.

My tentative plan is to be back in Dharamsala by February or March.

Country Totals

United States (US)
99
India (IN)
26
United Kingdom (GB)
7
Canada (CA)
6
Sweden (SE)
4
Malaysia (MY)
4
Indonesia (ID)
4
Philippines (PH)
3
Germany (DE)
3
Switzerland (CH)
2
Russian Federation (RU)
2
Japan (JP)
2
Brazil (BR)
2
Australia (AU)
2
Netherlands (NL)
1
Puerto Rico (PR)
1
Finland (FI)
1
Mexico (MX)
1
Greece (GR)
1
Turkey (TR)
1
Italy (IT)
1
Romania (RO)
1
Spain (ES)
1
Iran, Islamic Republic of (IR)
1

The rain was okay, and I bought some peaches at the Farmer's Market

Some days I can manage to keep my chin up and troop along, pretending to be back in step with this routine that has the suggestion of a way I remember living once. But some days, I just don't see the point. I don't care for drink. I don't care for parties. I don't care for people. I just shut down, close off, pull in, and shut it out. India seems so far away, and my heart feels like it is existing outside of my body in that far away place. It's a devastating feeling, but I must keep on as best I can in the hopes that I am one day reunited with my [non-]self.

I drink a lot of black tea with milk. I have a banana every morning with eggs and toast. This afternoon I met some Tibetans at the farmer's market, and learned that unfortunately there is nowhere in the city to buy Tibetan brown bread. We talked about Dharamsala and Mcleodganj, and one offered me a sweet mint tea, and another gave me a cranberry scone. I bought a loaf of wheat bread for breakfast, and from yet another Tibetan I bought about a pound of peaches. I intend to do my best to recreate ama-la's breakfast in the morning. It won't be the same, but it will be in her spirit. I miss my family and the smell of the mountains and the sounds of the pouring rains and yes, sometimes I even miss the incessant barking of the stray dogs at night and the cow shit in the streets and the glaring stares and the honking cars and motorcycles. I know that I can't continue on this way wallowing in my sadness, missing a place I can't be right now. But at the present time my emotions are so raw, and being here is so strange, that I can't help it. My mornings are fine, but by the afternoon I don't know what to do with myself and by the evening my spirit is sunk in a mire and sleep becomes my only comfort.

Same Same But Different

[A bit of free writing from my journal, just a few hours old]

It is my second day back in New York, but it almost feels like I never left. Of course, time went on in New York in my absence, but it still feels like nothing has changed but me. Being on the morning rush hour train didn't feel quite as crowded or dirty as it used to. I feel quite underwhelmed by this city now, and I miss Dharamsala with every atom. I had lunch with Andy this afternoon and he said he's never seen me looking so great, that my aura has been revitalized. I went to the Rubin Museum after lunch and walked around, saw statues and thangkas and other artifacts. It was a small comfort, but not too impressive after having been in India and seeing what the temples had on display. Right now I'm sitting at the flagpole in Union Square killing time until I can pick up my photos I had developed this morning. I've never felt so heartsick in all my life. There is a heaviness weighin on my chest that is beyond my capacity to express. I can try to explain to my friends how I feel, but I think they're probably mostly baffled by it. I feel like I've abandoned a lover. I'm not interested in anyone or anything I see. Everything here seems so vapid; the merchandise, the fashion, the conversation. And I ran into Michael at the Bean this morning. I was telling him how amazing the trip was and how much I loved it; he said he would have to put the pressure on so I get my senior work done. It didn't seem like the right time to tell him I no longer want him to be my advisor. But if I intend to pursue graduate work in Tibetan studies, and I do, then it seems like a waste of time to write about anything else. So I'm going to do what I have to do and hopefully the school will cooperate with me. I also briefly mentioned to Grandma my intention to move to Dharamsala once I finish college, and she said how she thinks I should do Birth Right before I get too old to. It was kind of random, but even if I spend a year in Dharamsala I'll still have enough time afterwards to still do Birth Right. I am so drained right now, physically and emotionally. The time difference is kicking my ass. It's already 3:30 am in India, and my body feels it, too. I really just want to go back to the apartment and rest, but I have to wait another hour for my photos. I could wait until tomorrow but I'm already here and one more hour won't kill me, though I really wish I could go somewhere to lie down. But if I did, I would run the risk of falling asleep for hours. My ass is numb from sitting on this stone and I'm so tired of sitting in cafes and paying too much for tea just because I want somewhere to sit for an hour or two, but I'm too tired to walk around, and browsing in stores seems pointless. I have nothing else to do but just wait. Interestingly enough, without even noticing, I sat directly on top of the Indiana stone around the flagpole. I miss Tibetans.

I am in a fucking bardo state. I just want to go back to where I feel at home!

Delhi, Round 2

When I left Dharamsala, I cried. It was too soon. My little sister Choeyang made me a bracelet and necklace. She kept wiping my eyes, telling me not to cry, and hugging me. Then I had car sickness for the entire ride to Pathankot. I sat on the platform at the train station spinning the mantra wheel on my ring, anxiously attempting to calm myself by reciting "Om Mani Padme Hum". I also did a full set (108) of recitations on my mala beads. On the train I felt sick again, because it smelled like fromaldehyde, and the further I got from Dharamsala, the sicker my heart. Of course, my classmates, last night and today, keep telling me I can't complain about not being there anymore because it will only bring everyone down. So tonight I opted out of going to dinner with them so I could have some time to be sad by myself without bumming anyone else out.