My last day at Mount View. I move into H****’s unit tomorrow.  There are things I will miss here.  I have got to know some of the other residents and staff – a mix of Indian and Tibetan and they have included me in the chiacking that goes on, from floor to floor and balcony to balcony.

Nazu and Altaf live 2 floors below and insist on sharing their rice and lentils dinner at night.  Last night it was so sweet.  They had added a tiny chicken leg to my plate as a treat.  They are always so pleased when they do something for me, like little kids.  I will miss seeing them so often for H****’s place is the other side of town, on the outskirts and they work from 9am to 9:30pm.  I shall miss the perfume from the night-scented cestrum hedge, but NOT the cow stalls.  I shall miss being so close to the centre of things, but I will not miss the noise and constant barking of the feral dogs.  Most of all I shall miss the view and the snowy mountains.  But I shall meet more people as I walk a different road, and even now I am building up a wider circle of friends – Hello friends, not heart friends –  Nazu says, but that is fine with me.

H**** will be away 6-8 weeks.  When she comes back I will move into K***’s place, till about end of September.  I am thinking about coming back to Australia then and sort out what to do.  I still want to live here.  My routine will have to change when I move.  At present, I am still a bit disorganised.  Help is needed, but it is so hard to pin down exactly what and where they need you, and appointments mean nothing.

Teachings finish this week.  I have made it for at least half of each day.  It’s getting into the Tantric stuff now.  I find it hard enough to concentrate as it is with aches and pains from sitting so I have decided the read ‘The Treatise’ which might help me more.  I’m a visual learner anyway and the translation reception is not always good on FM.

Melons, apricots, peaches and lichees are in abundance at present and taste like they used to years ago.  There are also tiny little apples and pears that just fit on the palm of your hand.  Seems a shame to take them away from their mothers, but they are a sweet mouthful.

There has been bad flooding in HP (Himachal Pradesh) but mostly around Simla (Shimla now).  Maybe you read it on the news.  About 400 tourists were evacuated and highways were cut.  An early start to the monsoon, which was officially meant to start on the 24th July.  We have had heavy rains most afternoons and nights, but it’s only a nuisance.

The ferretts/mongooses are becoming more visible.  There is a mum and 3 babies scampering among the rubbish now.  I can only get the Indian name so I don’t know exactly what they are.  I was told today that leopards come down from the higher mountains in winter for warmth and food.  I’d better stay skinny!  They don’t come into town but are seen on the outskirts, but I suppose that depends on the situation.  I will NOT go out after dark from the new places, though I shouldn’t be too cold while I am there.

Visited the Bhagsu Waterfall a few days back.  I had heard so much about it, I expected something quiet and rural, but it was a hive of industry – tea shops, market stalls and street vendors.  There is a big swimming pool right in the middle of it all this, fed by the falls.  I was quite amused at the contradiction when all the fellas stripped down to underwear right where they stood and dived in.  Considering how strict the Indians are with their women, there they were with nothing left to the imagination, while the women, of all ages, watched on and waited for them.  <strong>THEY</strong> did not go in the water.

Moving has delayed this but to continue –

It has been raining constantly.  The most inconvenient thing is trying to dry the clothes.  If they could be spun dried, it would make it easier, but no such thing here.  H****’s place is quite comfy, but the area spooks me.  I keep seeing things or sensing something.  The mists come up from the Valley about 2-3pm, added to the low clouds that drift past, it is quite spooky.  I do not think I will move into K***’s place, though I will check it out for her regularly.

My mobile got stolen by the gypsies.  I am always very careful, but they materialsed around me, when one of the numerous traffic jams had me hemmed in.  I did not feel a thing, but the women keep jostling and the little toddlers do their thing.

I am still well and happy, but either the elastic  in my pants has strteched, or I have lost more weight.

Lots of love always…

The next chapter – Dharamsala has had some changes since my last visit, and not just the weather.  The monsoons can start any time now, and most evenings about sunset, though it is fine and sunny, the thunder starts.  It is quite eerie – it sounds like the mountains are on the march – quite different from thunder at home.

The tourists are a different breed too since February – mostly young and dressed straight out of the 60’s/70’s – that is, the girls who are not wearing the current fashion of low slung skirts or jeans and shoestring tops, tatts and, of course face jewellery.  Some of the deadlocks are amazing.  The young male Tibetans are out in force, looking for the girl would could make it possible for him to get a foreign passport.  They are fairly trendy dressers in a hip/hop or rap style, most have motorbikes and speak good English.  The girls love them, and I must admit some of them are gorgeous with almost American Indian brave looks – long hair and headbands.

Shops are springing up everywhere – just the plywood, 3 metre square building with a small glass window which is the usual here.  There are also 3 cinemas – rooms which show videos, about 4 or 5 shows a day.  The videos are all recent.  I haven’t tried that entertainment yet.  Two Western-style coffee shops have also opened.  Well, the coffee is Western and very good, but the service and decor not quite!

There are also more computer rooms snd ISD/STD phone booths located in them.  The computers I’ve found so far are so old, the keyboards have the lettering worn off, and apart from the snail pace of connection, every exercise seems to take a million different buttons to press.  Maybe the experts can sort it out, I can’t.  I see there are computer lessons available so maybe I should take a course.  I might have to learn Hindi too, as there seems to be a number of keyboard with Hindi script.  I changed to Yahoo as it is more efficient here.  I also got an Indian Intel card for the mobile – it is much cheaper than Global Roaming.  Text messages are cheap.

Of course, like all authorities and their impeccable timing, it has been decided to do up the roads.  This consists of throwing a layer of gravel over the dirt, then spraying bitumen willy-nilly over the top.  The pot holes are left and sometimes I think the the bitumen spraying is not so indescriminate when tourists are trying to get by.  All this work is done by hand.  The men load the gravel into baskets, which the women carry on their heads.  They have amazingly graceful walks.  The bitumen is also sprayed by hand (by the men) with a gadget similar to a weed sprayer.  The Indians do this work and have their children with them.  They are so good, playing quietly for hours with whatever is available, stones, a plastic bottle, a piece of string.

There are heaps and heaps of classes – language and cooking, meditation and massage apart from the teachings at the Temple and the more esoteric stuff at the Library and Archives.  That is a little bit out of town so I have yet to go there.

As I write, 2 young Indian women are picking over the garbage below.  At least they are not sitting on their bums begging.  I only give to the lepers or the blind – sometimes to ‘my sadhu’.  The others come up with a string of kids, begging they are hungry.  I’ve never seen such a well-nourished lot and the women all wear jewellery (gold).  Begging is well-organised business.  I hear they even have a union.

So far I haven’t got any regular volunteer work.  I have my name down for a medical centre opening soon.  The office was closed when I went to see the ex-prisoners group.  So much for appointments!  Blackfella time is nothing to here.  I am helping 2 girls with conversation English, but they do a lot of giggling and I think it is the novelty, rather than a real desire to learn.  But they are nice and always give me something to eat, if I want it or not.  Went to one of the ‘poor’ schools again.  It seems to be only English help they want everywhere.  The kids were infested with head-lice and fleas and I saw maggots crawling allover the verandah, I decided my altruism was not strong enough.  I really don’t want to teach English.  I rather use what nursing skills I have.

Love you all.

Next chapter, then I should be up to date.  Went to Kashmir for just over 2 weeks:

Map of Kashmir

Nazu and I went with friend with car (I cannot remember his name.  I have to see things written, which is rather hard with these people).  We stayed at his home in the countryside an hour or so NW of Srinagar.  It is an amazingly beautiful area.  The chestnut trees were in flower, and so were the enormous clumps of deep-pink brier roses.  The Spring flowers were almost gone, but the laburnam trees were flowering everywhere.  The countryside was so unspoilt, and peaceful, mountainous but not too steep where they live.  They are pretty poor, but almost self-sufficient.  They have between 1 and 2 acres, with a cow, 4 goat, a couple of sheep and a big vegetable garden, which includes rice and fruit trees – walnuts, almonds, peaches and apricots.

The house is 2 storied concrete, with wooden shutters for windows.  To avoid it being pitch black when these are closed, there were plastic covered openings along the top of the  wall.  There are 2 rooms and a store downstairs and 3 rooms upstairs.  The bathroom is an area under the stairs, dug down deep enough to stand up, a rough stone floor and a tap, bucket and jug.  One family each sleep in 2 of the upstairs rooms and Mum, a granddaughter and I slept on one side of the 3rd room, and Nazu and Ashraf (his cousin who is also his nephew from his mother’s side) slept at the other end.  I am still unsure of the other families, but one was Nazu’s brother, Farooq.

Sleeping arrangements are just these padded quilts on the floor, and whatever will keep you warm on top.  They have this amazing thing called a ‘Winter wife’ which is a little pot-bellied cane basket with a clay pot inside, filled with little pieces of coal.  They walk around carrying them under their ‘phihari’ and even take them to bed.  It was pretty cold at night, but I wasn’t game to use one in case I set the bed alight.

We used home as base and walked the countryside – sometimes with shepherds.  There seem to be lots of herds.  I was the first westerner into the village settlement, (there doesn’t seem to be a proper village as we know them) but there are several small schools and mosque.

We made a daytrip to Gulmarg, a tourist spot for skiing in winter and fishing, golf and trekking in Summer.  Unfortunately it rained.  The place was full of rich Indian tourist families, and rain or not, they were going to do everything on offer.  So they sat grimly on the little ponies with their jewels and ankle length fur coats – men, women and kids – or on the cable-car which goes up to 10,000 feet, getting even colder and wetter – but by gum, this was a holiday and they would enjoy it.  Indians have holidays in groups of families and they are the noisiest and the boy children the most spoilt in the world, with not a thought for other people.  Gulmarg also has the highest golf course in the world.  I did see some of its beauty before the rain set in, and it really is.

We then went to Pahalgam, another resort, even more beautiful.  That is where I would like to live.  The hidden river gushes from the Himalayas over huge boulders, and there is a mix of old and new.  With lovely meadows, it seems gentler than Gulmarg. We stayed at a friend’s/relative’s guest house, which had hot water and a shower, as well as the usual bucket and dipper.  Absolute bliss!  After returning ‘home’ for a few days, we went to Srinagar and stayed on a houseboat (again friend’s/relative’s).  4 days of exploring the Old city and the New and just relaxing on the boat watching the passing parade of vendors.  No need to leave the houseboat.  Everything comes to you.

One day Nazu got a little ‘shikana’ and we went all along the back waterways of the lake.  There is some real squalor, alongside little cottage industry homes, eking out some kind of living, I guess.  There is not much choice, but they are always smiling and generous with what they have.  Nazu’s family were very kind,  Mum in particular.  I don’t think she would have been quite so nice, if I had been younger and there was a chance her precious Nazu might be taken away.  She looks pretty fierce – weatherbeaten, long top lip and stumps of teeth, what are left of them.  She wears the headscarf, low on her forehead tied behind the back of the head.  Unless they wear ‘burqah’ Kasmiri women aren’t so closely veiled, and I saw very few in ‘burqah’.

We came home the mountain way to avoid the many, many Army checkpoints of the highway, some just ‘baksheesh’ stops.  There were much fewer on the mountain road, and much less belligerent.  It didn’t make the journey any faster, for the nomadic shepherds and families were on the move.  They are a wild looking lot and each has his task.  Even little toddlers had their sticks and a charge.  Some of the mountain roads are very narrow, towering mountains on one side, and drops of hundreds of feet on the other.  The herds take their time, so we had to, also.  I do love this area of Kashmir.  As they were areas of the British hill-stations, there must have always been this magic.

Today is very hot and the water is off.  Yesterday, it bucketed down non-stop.  Work that out if you can.  It was the first of the ‘Wet’ and just like Innisfail.  I’m afraid Jogwara Road’s resurfacing didn’t stand up to it in many places.  Had a centipede in the bathroom today but I despatched it over the balcony.  Silverfish are numerous, but you can’t buy insect spray.  The mosquitos have been numerous too, but all one can buy are the coils.  Yuk!

The snake charmers are in town.  They backed me up on the hotel steps.  One went past me and one ahead so I couldn’t move.  But they were OK.  I told them I saw no reason to give them money to see a snake when I can see them for nothing in my backyard in Australia.  They laughed and let me pass.

More civilisation for McLeod Ganj.  We now  have an ATM and permanent police post.  Soon it will be like any other town.

Lots and lots of love,

Hello again.  Every time I think I have told you all, I think of more things I want to share.  Still it is easier this way.  Maybe when I get ‘au fait’ with the computers – (or get my laptop), it will be easier still.

It is still very hot, and my snowy mountain I can see from the balcony has disappeared with the haze.  More and more, Indians in particular are arriving in their large groups.  Unfortunately the other 2 rooms on the floor have been let and the lock taken off the stair-door.  I am in between one of these Indian groups (with at least a dozen kids of all ages), and a group of 4 monks, one being a fat child monk about 12 years old.  If the Indians are not screeching (normal talk), kids crying or running up and down the verandah at the front, the monks are parked outside my door with numerous visitors, the boy monk has his head around the dividing wall of our balconies.  They have also set up a kitchen in the room and seem to crash pots at all hours.  I will be pleased to move into H****’s place this week-end.

K***’s neighbour H**** wants me to mind her place for 6 weeks.  Then K*** will be going to Spain, after 2 weeks in Mongolia – will be gone until late September.  They have both been here a few years, so are well set-up with Western conveniences and they tell me they are never out of water for the bathroom.  The units are next to HHDL’s residence and the The Temple.

It’s a bit of a walk to the market area, but very pleasant with the Kangra Valley below.  It will be nice to have a decent light to read by too.

No, I am not getting sick of the place.  I could live here forever quite happily in a place of my own, and my mind is continually running on those lines.  I have to come back to Australia every year, and it seems easy enough to get a visa.  If I sold the villa, I could live very reasonably here, and have money for holidays to see you all.  Anyway I have yet to survive the ‘Wet’, which from all accounts is no worse than Innisfail.

I am still keeping well, but I would like to weigh myself to see if I am still losing weight.  I look like the Saggy, Baggy Elephant.  If that is the price to feel healthy – ‘Inshallah’ as my two proteges say.

Teaching started yesterday.  It was a long day and so hot.  Monks are here from Southern India and Tibet.  The Gompa courtyards and surrounding areas were packed.  Saw HHDL quite close, going to and from the Gompa, despite the 14 guards surrounding him, 2 with machine guns.  I understand it, but it seems to be so wrong for it to be necessary for such a man of peace.  What a world!

I’ll space out the teachings.  It is just too much for my back to sit without a back support for 3-4 hours at a time.  Getting up is even worse in the confined space allowed.  The radio reception for the translation was poor and the text a very hard one.  Even the knowledgeable ones said so.  Getting to the Heartland!  I find it hard to accept many of the rituals, closely allied with the old Bon religion as they are.

Maybe I will just have to forget a structured path and just try to do some good where I can.  I was appalled yesterday at the monks actually coming to fisticuffs when the texts were being distributed.  There seemed to be plenty to go around, but some were grabbing 3 0r 4.  The new breed is everywhere!  Nevertheless I had a lovely day with Yeshe Thopgyal last Sunday.  We managed very well despite his little English, and my ‘no Tibetan, Chinese or Hindi’ all of which he speaks well.  We had lunch and walked, and later Nazu andAltof joined us.  As they speak Hindi well and some Tibetan, they all got on famously with lots of laughter.  Yeshe is quite mischievous.  He is going to Nepal for 1 year after the teachings, so I’m glad we had that time.  He is hoping to that he can get into Tibet to see his family.

I went to the convent to see Choe-la but got a very off-hand response.  Met a wealthy South African woman, who has now gone back.  She is dead keen for me to have a holiday with her in Johannesburg.  She was good fun.  We went to the old Moghul fort cum palace.  Parts are being restored, all by hand, using old tools.  It is situated up high, with a river below and beyond and around, mountains – absolutely impregnable.  The palace itself had nearly 3 foot thick walls, and a moat as well.  There is such a rich history here, and all mixed with surrounding countries.  Kashmir, which is mostly Moslem, was once Buddhist and sent the first Buddhists into the East.  Of course, Nazu an Altof will not have that.

I always thought that Japan had the worst electrical wiring.  it looks like someone has put the wires into a mixer and thrown the tangle into a power pole but India has that and the apes.  Saw them having a lovely game playing in the tangle.  No wonder the power is erratic.

A new volunteer group has started – ‘Keep D’sala Clean’ – plastic bags have been banned because the wandering livestock get them caught in their throat.  People are being urged not to throw rubbish out the window or over the balconies.  What to do with it, I don’t know as there is no garbage department.  But it is a start, especially the plastic bags.  We get things wrapped in newspaper.  Some of the places are even making it into proper bags.

The police post had its first duty, apart from trying to direct traffic – total mayhem -.  The out-of-town beggars were removed.  They really were agressive and had a well-organised crime ring.  I had a bit of a set-to at the Temple gates.  Women, kids surround you, pushing against you, so I pushed back , and got through.  Hard when the women are nursing young babies, but that is part of the ploy.

HHDL’s birthday is in about a week, and the locals are constantly practising their dancing and music.  I have a clear view from here, are they practise on the roof of the next building.  Whilst on the subject of birthdays, I am sorry I am not up to date.  One day blends into another, but you are in my thoughts, and always in my heart.

Love you all,

A picture of Gulmarg in Kashmir.  Have just returned and saw the best and worst of it.  Gulmarg has the highest golf course on the world and the Club is almost ‘Raj’. I miss our Sunday talks. At present more than ever for I would dearly love to live here and need to talk it out. Love

My Mother was a child of the depression being born in Australia in 1930.  Her father was a surveyor and the family often travelled with him.  She can remember a time before electric refrigerators, living in tents with dirt floors in the back blocks of Queensland as she grew up.  She became a nurse at the end of her teens and with a few breaks along the way to marry and divorce three men and mother six boys had a career in nursing spanning nearly fifty years.  I am the oldest of the  sons with five still alive and we have spread across the world, myself living in Japan, another brother in England and the other three in different parts of Australia.

Since retiring, Mum or Alne to her friends has kept busy but has never settled – too many years of work to sit on the porch and rock in the chair.  Earlier this year, having converted to Buddhism many years ago, she went to India, loved it, has gone back and still loves it with no plans to leave.  This is her letters on her travels there – the typos are mine but my  excuse is she has appalling handwriting as only left-handed backslanted writing could be….