Manju-ka-Tilla, Tibetan Colony, Delhi, Sunday 27 January 2013
So, back in Delhi, the mad metropolis. To ease myself back into Delhi, I've headed for the Tibetan Colony in the northern part of the city - a transition between Dharmasala and the city. It's a tiny area of narrow alleys, on the edge of a river, with tall buildings all feeling as though they're coming in on you. As in McLeod Ganj, all roads seem to lead to a small central square, with the temple on one side (some photos below).
Getting here was quite a journey... first a bus from the McLeod Ganj part of Dharamsala down to the main bus station in the lower part of town, then a bus to Pathankot to catch the train to Delhi. Once again, I was helped along the way by the kindness of strangers. An Indian soldier and his family, on their way back to where he's serving in Pathankot, helped me find the right bus in Dharamsala. His poor wife then spent most of the 3.5 hour journey being sick out the window.
I expected the bus to arrive into a bus station, but when it pulled up at a junction, the conductor came over and let me know this was my stop - the turning for the railway station. I got off and started walking down the road he'd indicated, and the soldier was getting into an autorickshaw. He waved me over and said they were going in the same direction. It's a good thing he did... it was quite far in the end and it was starting to get dark.
I checked which platform my train would be going from, got myself a hot cup of masala chai and sat down on the seats along the platform to take in the scene for a bit. I'd quite a long wait - it was about four hours until my train. I got about two sips before the first person came over to beg. It was an older man. Another one stopped behind to watch - I suppose he figured that if the first one was successful he'd have a go, too. It's difficult this. All the advice you read is not to give to beggars, but people have so little safety net. Sometimes the begging is organised, with the beggars themselves the victims of gang leaders. It's hard to know what to do, and it's hard to sit on a platform, staring ahead of you blankly, while someone begs in front of you.
A boy of about seven or eight got on the bus at one of our stops on the way to Pathankot, begging. He had a little bowl with what looked like oil in the bottom of it, with a few coins in the oil, and a ten rupee note in his hand. The chap sitting beside me in the bus talked to him and put a few coins in his bowl. I didn't, but for the first time thought I maybe should. The bus was about to pull off again, and the boy got off, but he came round to my window and continued calling up to me as the bus pulled off. It took me back to a quotation of the Dalai Lama's which was stuck up on the wall in the restaurant where I'd had lunch before catching the bus. It was about how some people don't even have basic food and shelter. They work from dawn to dusk and earn next to nothing, and see others living in the lap of luxury without appearing to have to lift a finger. When we don't help people, is it any wonder they become resentful and violence and hatred ensue, he said. I couldn't help wondering what that boy's view of westerners is, when I obviously had the means to give him money but didn't choose to help. We all know that supporting organisations who help reduce poverty is the best way you can contribute, but what are the chances of that boy's life being touched by a charity or organisation? They can't help everyone.
I'm hoping that spending these next few weeks with a charity organisation will help answer some of these questions.
Meanwhile, I had more help from a young woman on her way to Bangalore in southern India, with her dad. The train was about an hour delayed, and they kept me right on what was going on. They offered to share their dinner with me, and helped me find my berth on the train.
Anyway, here are some pics of the past 24 hours or so...
So, back in Delhi, the mad metropolis. To ease myself back into Delhi, I've headed for the Tibetan Colony in the northern part of the city - a transition between Dharmasala and the city. It's a tiny area of narrow alleys, on the edge of a river, with tall buildings all feeling as though they're coming in on you. As in McLeod Ganj, all roads seem to lead to a small central square, with the temple on one side (some photos below).
Getting here was quite a journey... first a bus from the McLeod Ganj part of Dharamsala down to the main bus station in the lower part of town, then a bus to Pathankot to catch the train to Delhi. Once again, I was helped along the way by the kindness of strangers. An Indian soldier and his family, on their way back to where he's serving in Pathankot, helped me find the right bus in Dharamsala. His poor wife then spent most of the 3.5 hour journey being sick out the window.
I expected the bus to arrive into a bus station, but when it pulled up at a junction, the conductor came over and let me know this was my stop - the turning for the railway station. I got off and started walking down the road he'd indicated, and the soldier was getting into an autorickshaw. He waved me over and said they were going in the same direction. It's a good thing he did... it was quite far in the end and it was starting to get dark.
I checked which platform my train would be going from, got myself a hot cup of masala chai and sat down on the seats along the platform to take in the scene for a bit. I'd quite a long wait - it was about four hours until my train. I got about two sips before the first person came over to beg. It was an older man. Another one stopped behind to watch - I suppose he figured that if the first one was successful he'd have a go, too. It's difficult this. All the advice you read is not to give to beggars, but people have so little safety net. Sometimes the begging is organised, with the beggars themselves the victims of gang leaders. It's hard to know what to do, and it's hard to sit on a platform, staring ahead of you blankly, while someone begs in front of you.
A boy of about seven or eight got on the bus at one of our stops on the way to Pathankot, begging. He had a little bowl with what looked like oil in the bottom of it, with a few coins in the oil, and a ten rupee note in his hand. The chap sitting beside me in the bus talked to him and put a few coins in his bowl. I didn't, but for the first time thought I maybe should. The bus was about to pull off again, and the boy got off, but he came round to my window and continued calling up to me as the bus pulled off. It took me back to a quotation of the Dalai Lama's which was stuck up on the wall in the restaurant where I'd had lunch before catching the bus. It was about how some people don't even have basic food and shelter. They work from dawn to dusk and earn next to nothing, and see others living in the lap of luxury without appearing to have to lift a finger. When we don't help people, is it any wonder they become resentful and violence and hatred ensue, he said. I couldn't help wondering what that boy's view of westerners is, when I obviously had the means to give him money but didn't choose to help. We all know that supporting organisations who help reduce poverty is the best way you can contribute, but what are the chances of that boy's life being touched by a charity or organisation? They can't help everyone.
I'm hoping that spending these next few weeks with a charity organisation will help answer some of these questions.
Meanwhile, I had more help from a young woman on her way to Bangalore in southern India, with her dad. The train was about an hour delayed, and they kept me right on what was going on. They offered to share their dinner with me, and helped me find my berth on the train.
Anyway, here are some pics of the past 24 hours or so...
 |
| My last morning in McLeod Ganj began with a walk clockwise around the whole Tsuglagkhang complex, where the Dalai Lama lives. It was all the more salient, as he apparently returned here the day before. |
 |
| Looking down the valley from beneath some of the many prayer flags around the Dalai Lama's complex |
 |
| Prayer wheels on the walk around the complex |
 |
| Grover at a cafe after our walk |
 |
| Decisions, decisions... |
 |
| See what it says below Norling Restaurant... it's childish to giggle, but...! |
 |
| The English church at McLeod Ganj |
 |
| Street life in McLeod Ganj |
 |
| The station name sign at Pathankot - as they are at other stations I've been through. You could be on the Tube! |
 |
| The sleeper berths on the overnight train to Delhi |
 |
| Me stretched out on my berth... what a kick! |
 |
| View out over the river from my hotel in the Tibetan area in Delhi |
 |
| One of the ways into the Tibetan area from a main road |
 |
| My hotel, the New Peace House - proceeds support a monastery in Dharamsala |
 |
| My room |
 |
| This and the pics below are some goings on around the temple square in the Tibetan Colony... |
No comments:
Post a Comment