Love Letter to my Peeps

Dear Peeps,

I love you.  All of you.  More than you can possibly imagine.

You showed up at my parents' house tonight in droves, bearing food, gifts, children and babies.  Some of  you drove miles and miles to see us, and some of you even made time in your vacation schedules to come over.  You powered through busy days and dragged tired kiddos along just to see us one more time before we leave Madison.  You sat with me and listened to my stories and when I asked you, you knew I really did want to hear about your year and told me.  You were kind to my ancient dog, patient with my wild children and made friends with each other.  You made some damn fine food, damn fine.  You said goodbye and then were still here half and hour later -- I love that.  There were those of you here from nearly every chapter of my life and I loved that you all came out to see us.

I have been in Madison a week and literally every time I leave the house I run into at least one of you.  Two of you played some excellent music last night and Chris and I felt lucky to be able to see you do your thing.  These reunions are such gifts.  

4 of you were here on vacation when we first arrived and your presence did wonders for helping my kids jump right back into life state-side.  Its been too long and I'm so glad we could reconnect and kindle the kids' friendships.

You peeps who are further away, just the knowledge that we'll be seeing you so soon is a  joy.  I read your FB posts and emails and even just look at your pictures and these days there's this little thrill - I'm going to see her soon!  He'll be at my house in no time!  I loved hearing from you all while we were in India but its even better now that we're home, knowing we'll be seeing each other in mere days or weeks, instead of many long months.  

I feel overwhelmed and humbled by the rich universe of friends and family in which I move.  You all are wonderful and bring me such happiness.  You have been so missed and are so very appreciated.  The love and hugs we soaked up tonight will last us well into Virginia, and I hope you'll keep us in your hearts as we embark on this newest adventure.

Love, 

Maggie

Back Safe Home Again!

I think we've been on US soil just about 24 hours now, and let me tell you, it feels WONDERFUL!  

Meema and Grandpy, Tio, neighbors, normal driving, clean streets, FANTASTIC food, safe water...  the list of things we're seeing and enjoying goes on and on.  Everyone seems pretty well rested by now and thankfully, we all seem to be over that last nasty round of Indian stomach bugs.  The last leg of the journey was extra exciting thanks to busted windshield wipers and a big ol' midwestern thunderstorm (now there's another thing I really missed), but thanks to Super-Grampy at the wheel, we made it in one piece.  Pictures to come...

We're slowly by little going to be calling and seeing lots of you Madison people, but don't feel like you need to wait to hear from us to get in touch - call the homestead or even stop by if you're around.  

The big potluck is this Sunday 4-8 and we're looking forward to seeing lots and lots of folks.  (Get in touch if you need directions)  And between now and then we're chomping at the bit to see visiting cousins, wallow in wonderfulness at the farm and even see a friend's band play on Saturday night.  (Alchemy Cafe, this Saturday, 8pm, if you're interested...)

That Dorothy girls sure had it right - "There's no place like home..."

Goodbye, India...

The SLNC (Santa? Like, No. Claus) goodie bag is packed. The cab is downstairs. The last of the rupees are being spent (Yes, I'd like a year's worth of paan. To go.) Three and a half hours till take-off (G-d willing), less than 24 hours to Chicago. I think we all have one last gasp of Indological Illness, which is making it happier to leave. If there's (free) internet at the airport, I'll do an acknowledgments post. Don't look for any shoutouts, Indian immigrations and customs troublemakers, unless we have a hassle-free exit. Watch this be the one time they ask me for an income tax clearance certificate, since I don't have one.

In a final development, at McDonald's tonight, Ben said 'I'm ok with spicy stuff.'

Gratuitous India Picture:

---no more rickshaws for a while...

and with that, the SLNChampionistita sends to 'finish packing' (here I think she's using the imperative.)

The counter is wrong

I make it less than 72 hours. See yall soon. Anybody know good kidfriendly restaurants in the approximate vicinity of Connaught Place?

Tidewater 4-10-0-9

Name that tune for a SLNC prize. We're under 100 hours til home. In Leh. Each kid sick and leaking from a different end--since G-d loves us, our hotel is owned by an MD. Offered མངས་ཇ་ at Likir this morning, which means tea for all, and got matching dragons and yaks in thanks. Less tearful than usual saying goodbye, except when the discipline-master put khataks on Ben. We handed out rs100 notes to the assembled pious.
I have no good recent significant photos (though Caitlin did get the Maitreya Buddha at night, thanks to somebody resetting the ISO to 1600, and to Noe for lending a tripod) but here's something or other...let's see what I can dredge up.
There you go, me and some of the local oldsters, including the President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Sole Member of what Geshe-la calls the One Eyed Circumambulating Grandma Society.

See yall sooner and sooner...

Less than a week now...

I hardly know what to think - we'll be back in the US in less than a week from this exact moment. Maybe if I was looking at the world through a green plastic ring...  

I have to admit, I am going to miss this place like crazy.  I think it has something to do with the 48 little dudes who live downstairs, especially now that they all seem to be literally falling apart in front of my eyes.

We took 3 into Leh today to have various infected body parts looked at.  And my daily anti-fungal attacks have expanded to include wound care of all sorts.  (You would not believe how many of them look like they've been boxing.)  I did a vision test before we left this morning (he can see just fine, thanks) and had my diagnosis of pterygium  confirmed by a pediatrician before lunch today.  Maybe I have a future in medicine?  Midwifery, yea, but also...?  As much as I wish I didn't have to be the medical care provider for the kids, I really love the challenge of trying to figure out what's wrong and what to do about it, and then the satisfaction of seeing them get better.  

Anyhow, Caitlin and I are in Leh for 24 hours, shopping like maniacs, stocking up on goodies for all our loyal Nag Champions out there.  And stocking up on some last minute supplies for a delegation of Germans who will be at Likir in the coming days to inaugurate the new hot water heater they donated.

Which reminds me, we have officially become the US branch of (now international!) charity, Friends of Likir.  The organization coordinates donations to the monastery school for all sorts of projects.  Currently they are working raising funds to put in a new kitchen and dining hall.  As it is now the boys cook in a small room with a dirt floor and no running water or even counters or cupboards, and they eat on the floor in the same hall where they study, chant and debate.  Chris and I would like to institute regular visits from a pediatrician as well as some "seminars" on basic hygiene.  And a fund to pay for medications seems like a high priority too.  There is a website in the works  - watch this space. And since this is a very new development Friends of Likir is nowhere close to having 501-3C status, but that's a project we'll tackle later this fall.  However, if anyone is feeling especially moved to contribute toward the health and well-being of some of my favorite little boys on the planet, give us a holler and we'll help you get the money where it can do some good.

In the mean time, I'll leave you with some pictures of the little monks, lest you think all is woe and misery at the monastery...  

(Above is drawing time, not drawing CLASS, as everyone likes to call it.  The kids' days are really packed and structured so I make it a point to just put out the art supplies and let them do their thing.  Its been wonderful to see them go from all tracing the same pictures from the same books to now really getting creative and branching out into weird wild creations involving hole punchers and glitter tape and animal stencils.  I really hope the teachers will continue drawing time after we leave...)  

Guest editors

The Mighty Mighty Readership of SLNC has spoken, and we have heard all four of your voices loud and clear. You want to hear from the Nag Champiettes. Actually, no one said that, but every good piece of writing needs a catchy intro, so....

Ben says:
Let's do a describetion about the Buddha. No, don't type that in! What are you doing, Dad?

OK, um, we went to Thikse Monastery, and we saw the Buddha. It is a Maitreya Buddha. It's gigantic. Its eyes were kind of curved and long, and it has flowers growing up its arms, it has blue long and curled hair, and he has a crown which has the representing of the for [sic] buddha families. He has a conch shell tilak, he has golden skin and red unders of his feet and hands, and blue eyes.
Should we put in some pictures?
Yeah, how?
Like this:



Do you want to say anything about the pictures?

No, not really.

[ed. note: the Buddha's face is ~15 feet tall] Is there anything else you want to say about Ladakh, or your trip, or anything else that's going on?

Nope, nope nope...[walking away]

Ok, Caitlin, you're up:

Do my voice in Bold. When I'm talking, make it Bold. No, don't type that. [ed. swats hand away from delete button.]

Ummm... .... daddy, don't type this...

[dramatic sigh]

OK, type what Caitlin has to say now!

Four days ago we came into Leh. The first day we went to the Leh Palace. It was cool, but it was just basically empty rooms. We came back to Leh and had lunch. Next day we went to the little monks' picnic. It was lots of fun. I played cards with Geshe-la and the older little monks, and also I took funny pictures. Can we put in some of my funny pictures now?

Um, I dunno. Let's see. Nope, sorry, all the funny pictures of the picnic are on mom's computer. So...?

Then, at about five we went to Thikse monastery's guest house. It was ok. Then the next morning we went up to see Thikse monastery. Just very quickly, there were lots of tourists, it was pretty cool, but we've got pretty much the same stuff at our monastery.


ed. note -- please note the last sentence, which the kids have not yet adopted as a personal motto. The Tibetan above dedicates that particular prayer wheel to a soldier who died in 1999 in Kargil fighting against Pakistan.

We had lunch there, and then drove in to Leh. This is when I was starting to get sick. We found an awesome guesthouse called Maryul, then Dad and I went horseback riding, that's where I want the pictures.


My legs got sore and the white horse which I rode for the first part, had lost one of its stirrups the day before, so I had a rope stirrup which was very uncomfortable [ed: see pic above] It was also windy and rainy, but we had a lot of fun because I just love to spend time with my dad doing just about anything No! don't type that!

Next day we hung around Leh, and I met the guest house owner's daughter. Her name is Lhandol, she's really nice, we hung around together some and had breakfast together this morning. Then we did more important stuff like get water, drop off laundry, go shopping, etc., which isn't as fun but which I cheerfully endure because I know its important for my family. Dad!

Ben:

Here, you type in what you think I should say: My dad is awesome, I love him more than anything else in the whole world. That's what it says. When are you going to type about me getting sick? Ok, sorry.

For the last couple days I had a stomach infection. It wasnt getting better, and also the medicine was really yucky and I threw it up, so last night, Mom and Dad called a doctor. (AMA: you listening? House calls. For $11. You bout to get outsourced) Everybody done? Oh, yeah, now I'm all better, and my new medicine tastes ok.

Now I want to say something. Probably he got sick from playing in the stream at the picnic. The water was disgusting. And I saw garbage floating in it.

[He did sort of present giardiasistically, but that takes a long time to gestate, supposedly, so who knows what it was. Swimming in Indus effluvia probably didn't help. I paid my penalty in extra escorted trips to the bathroom, including in the dark and awful public Ladakhi toilets.]

Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Did you write in what I'm saying? Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore.

So, we've had a few days off in Leh, and now that we've surveyed the varieties of Veg Cheese Kothay and had more pancakes and french fries than anyone really needs to eat in India, I am forgoing the International Association of Ladakh Studies Conference today (thru Sunday) and we'll head home after the usual raft of shopping.

Also, Dolkar now has a roof. Hooray, specially since it rained on Monday and Tuesday.

Thanks for helping me to placate the children Are you done yet? here in the Internet cafe while Maggie attends to important email. As usual, a promise of more substance to come soon, but not very soon.

PS--if you want to call us, Likir Monastery's main phone number is 11-1982-227140. Ask for KEE-REES, and then expect to wait a while. I'm genuinely not encouraging anyone to call, but it occurred to me that no one really knows how to reach us if needed. Now you do.

More Sweet than Bitter

Suggested soundtrack for this post can be found HERE.

In 30 days…

…I won’t be able to look out my window and see the snow-topped Himalayas.

…I won’t be able to turn my kids loose to go climb and explore and build caves right outside our house.

…we won’t be able to mosey across the street and spend an afternoon exploring every nook and cranny of an ancient monastery with a jolly and playful friend who happens to have the keys to everything.

…there won’t be any more Kashmiri apple juice.  Especially not at $1/liter.

…I won’t see 48 sweet smiling little boys shyly grinning at me every time I go outside.

…there won’t be friendly strangers herding their cows past my house, waving and shouting out, “Ju-lay!” all day long.

…the day won’t start with happy kids calling, “KEED-ISS!” in hopes of seeing my husband on their way to school. 

…no one will drop off sacks of dried cheese or peas as a housewarming gift.

…pairs of shy monks will no longer turn up at my door to deliver food and tea all day long.

…my kids will not be swept up by friendly monks for a walk, game of Carrom, or impromptu Ladakhi lesson.

…I won’t be able to sit in the yard knitting while I watch magpies careening against a backdrop of acid-green trees and craggy, barren, beautiful mountains.

…my family won’t be lulled to sleep by the burble of a glacial stream. 

…I won’t get a Ladakhi/cooking lesson, nor will I give a mini English lesson every time I take out the compost,

…I will live in a home with many fewer windows and not nearly as much dazzling sunshine.

…I’ll sweat again.  A lot.

…I’ll have to shave my legs again.

…going to the store won’t be an adventure full of fun, a chance to learn a new language and make a new friend, even if the store has nothing at all that I needed to buy.

…I’m going to be spending a lot more money for everything.

…my kids will probably be watching more TV and having more computer time.

…and so will Chris and I.

…I won’t be able to go sit in a Buddhist temple or teaching hall anytime I want.

…an enormous Buddha won’t be watching over me and my family.

…my husband won’t be able to get up at 5am and after a quick walk, spend a few hours working in his office before coming back home for breakfast.

…my days won’t be shaped by the singing and chanting of monks and the ringing of bells. 

…I won’t see knitting-inspiration every time someone takes off their shoes.

…our family won’t have the option of  feasting on Ladakhi food in the monastery kitchen for lunch and dinner every day.

…I will have to wait much much longer for veg-cheese khotay (pan-fried momos).

…we won’t be in the midst of a community so instinctively and uniformly oriented toward mutual support.

…going into town won’t be nearly as exciting and as highly anticipated as it is now.

…my family won’t spend nearly as much meaningful time together, drawing, reading, exploring outdoors and playing games.

…varied and interesting people from all over the world won’t wander down my street and through my house everyday, ripe for conversation and the sharing of travel tales.

…my family won’t be so closely enveloped by a foster family of the most cheerful, light-hearted and genuinely caring people I’ve ever met. 

 

And in 30 days…

… my bedroom, my children’s bedrooms, the dining room, living room and kitchen will all be separate, different rooms.

…my bathroom will have a toilet, complete with toilet seat, a shower and tub that are not just knobs sticking out of the wall, and it will be inside my house.

…hot water will come out of all the hot water taps anytime I want it to.

…hot water will come  to those taps from a great big tank in the basement, to which I have to do nothing, instead of a huge kettle sitting on a wood fire.

…I will keep my food in a refrigerator and cupboards, not a cardboard box.

…I will be able to bake, in an oven, in my house.

…I will have all the coffee I want.  Lattes, even.

…I will be able to walk to the library with my kids.

…we will wash our laundry in our own washing machine, with hot water, in our basement, anytime we want to.

…food will come from a grocery store that I can reach in a matter of minutes, any day I need to.

…I will be reasonably confident that any store I walk into will have the items I wish to purchase, and that I will be able to get a fair price, even though I’m white, and without an argument.

…I will be able to wear shorts and sleeveless tops without fear of being thought a brazen hussy.

…my husband and I will be able to hold hands (or even smooch!) in public without scandalizing all and sundry.

…my children will no longer fear cheek-pinchers every time we go out.

…my snot won’t be black from all the dust and dirt in the air.

…toilet paper will no longer be a scarce and precious resource.

…I will be able to eat good deep dark chocolate whenever I want it.

…my kids will be able to order food in a restaurant or eat at friend’s house without fear of it being nuclear hot and unpalatable to them.

…I will be able to take a hot shower more than twice a week and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

…there will be electricity 24/7, pretty much no matter what.

… my presence in my house, my activities and my husband’s work won’t be a source of curiosity and consternation to tourists who randomly walk thorough my yard, taking pictures of my friends without asking permission first, lost in the fiction of their 'spiritual adventure' in India.

…I will wash my dishes in a sink, in my kitchen, inside my house, with hot water, standing up, with the lights on, anytime of the day or night.

…my family will be able to get out a glass, turn on the faucet, fill the glass with water and drink it directly. 

…we’ll be able to brush our teeth and rinse the toothbrushes under the tap.

…I’ll be getting back to birth work, and hopefully midwifery training.

…I will be able to call friends and family on the phone anytime I want.

…we’ll all be able to see and hug and talk to all of your that we love and have missed so very much for the past 10 months.

 

 

Monastery

Just a few shots from around the monastery...

Home

For the uber-curious, my dad has movies of our humble home (so I know you've already seen them Mom!), but for the rest of you, a few shots of what we see everyday and our little corner of the Likkir.  

We live in a room (about 250 sq. ft.) that was previously a classroom.  Now that they've got Caitlin for an English teacher, the kids don't seem too upset about us taking over their room...

The room faces south and west and so gets wonderful light and stays very warm. 

Above, that's us on the right, the room that juts out toward the back - affectionately called The Aquarium... The shot is taken from the main walkway of the monastery - on the left are monks' quarters and just above those is the giant golden Buddha. We're on the second floor with the other classrooms, the school director's room and 2 bathrooms (squatties, no hot water).  We cook in our room on a two burner LPG stove and do just about everything else in there too.  

The little monks all live downstairs, about 10 to a room.  They also eat and debate and chant and pray and do homework downstairs.  They cook in a building across the courtyard, which you can see below, on the right.  We wash our dishes just to the left of the grassy area, at a tap which gives nothing but ice-cold glacial run-off.  And occasionally we do our laundry in buckets there too.  Behind the chorten at the far right corner of the building there is a dirt yard where the kids play and the entrances to all sorts of wild and wonderful hiking paths, caves and other gnarly stuff to explore and get dirty in.  

 

And finally, Tashi, the monastery dog...

Weaving

The man who runs the little shop just below the monastery has recently set up a traditional Ladakhi loom to work on when business is slow.  Caitlin and I popped in for an introductory lesson the other day and I have to admit that my opinion of myself as a fiber arts maven has taken a serious hit.  I'm in awe of what he can do with basically amounts to a bunch of sticks and string.  

Waiting

I don't think I'll ever be one of those people who wax romantic about Indian train travel (2AC still doesn't cut it, I don't care what my husband says), but I have discovered a strategy for making the inevitably lengthy waits at stations much more enjoyable (assuming the weather is tolerable and my children are fed, watered, and not in need of a bathroom) - make friends with anyone and everyone. 

It is surprisingly easy to do when you're armed with a camera and a smile.  

Or a guitar...

I especially love this picture for the great cross-section of Indian society that it shows.  You've got everyone from that rather posh looking Sikh in white on the left to the waving kids who swept the train cars - on their hands and knees, with only pieces of discarded plywood - to the beggar woman directly behind Chris.  The trains truly are one of India's few equalizers.

Teaser

The Dol-kar (means White Tara) never leaves Likir without picking up a couple riders. More details tomorrow. For now, here's a taste of our chariot in action.

I was high on that mountain, when Daddy let me driiiive

Ok, I forgot the camera twice now, so you'll just have to believe me.

Maggie fell on a boulder in the dark and busted her coccyx a bit (no permanent damage, but very painful) and so I took Grampy and the kids to Leh by myself. After a much delayed departure, Grampy flew from Kushok Bakula RInpoche Airport, and after that, who knows. The kids and I et breffis, I mangled a little business, and then by hook or crook we managed to scare up a Tibetan with some horses and went for an awesome (if slow by anybody but a 5yo's standards) ride across bridges, over streams, through rocky desert, and up to the foot of Stog Palace.

Next day my friend Dawa Tsering lent us his qualis, and we zoomed to Hemis for the mask dance festival. There was so much waiting around that we only saw the one dance, and then we ahd to back to Choglamsar to deposit Dawa;s daughter Nyilza back at her house with her mother, and then back to Leh to get OUR CAR!

It's a maruti gypsy, with no roof, 4wd, and about a 1.1-1.3 liter petrol engine. This morning on the way back into Leh I hit 98kph, = top speed of 60. I tried to explain to the monk with me why this car would never work for America, but to no avail. Anyway, it frees us up some and lets us be more independent, plus Ladakh is some fo the most fun and exciting driving anywhere.

Pictures when we have 'em. Everything else is good.

Amritsar

In Chris's birthday post you saw about all you need to see of the border closing ceremony and the cozy confines of Amritsar's (the Punjab's?) only 5 star hotel.  

Just quickly though, I think its worth pointing out the differences between the Indian side

and the Pakistani side of the border.  

You can't really see in the photo, but the Pakistani side is gender segregated and the women are all wearing burquas.  And there is next to no one there.  Eerie, especially compared to the raucous Indians.  But I do have to admit that the Pakistanis had a much better marching and bugling routine, despite the low turnout.  

So we did the border crossing the evening we arrived and then the Golden Temple the next morning.  

Waking up 6ish was totally worth it and I found the place every bit as magical as everyone says it is.  Sikhism really interests me and the people we met at both the Golden Temple and the Delhi gurdwara were lovely and incredibly welcoming.  Without kids I would've loved to linger and just watch the whole scene unfold over the span of a day, exploring the kitchen and hospital as well as the temple complex, but with small bellies in tow we had to head to breakfast fa

irly quickly.  

On the way out I did snap a shot of the entrance to the communal kitchen, complete with inspirational sayings that reminded me of farmer friends back home.

Chandigar

So, to catch up a bit, let's review...

Left Pune at the beginning of June and went to Delhi.  Conference, sightseeing, good times (you've seen the post).  

Then it was off to Chandigar, home of the Nek Chand Sculpture Garden.  It is the second most

 visited tourist site in all of India,

behind (of course) the Taj Mahal.  I was alerted to the wonders of Nek Chand by my old knitting teacher and all around groovy Madison artist.  (Madisonians - check out The Green Parasol on Willy St!)  Of all the advice I got about coming to India, her recommendation that I visit the sculpture garden probably was the one thing that contributed the most happiness to my time here.  I LOVED it.

Other people seemed pretty happy there too.

I won't try to describe the place - I couldn't - but I'll leave it to my loyal Nag Champa-ions to follow the link above and google for pictures.  Instead, just a few favorite shots...

Above is a small part of the Third Phase which has a sort of country fair feel to it.  In each of the arches there is a gigantic swing and people are welcome swing to their hearts' content. There are camel rides on offer along the front of the swings, and behind you can wander through the largest house of mirrors I've ever seen.  This is the one place in all of India that Ben has ever asked to go back to.

He literally had to be carried out...  

Unfortunately the rest of Chandigar is unmitigatedly weird and awful in a Soviet-bloc era sort of way.  We found a gem of a hotel WAY out in the Punjabi countryside, for which we were hugely grateful, but 24 hours proved about as long as we wanted or needed to stay in Chandigar.  With the first of a string of great train station experiences we were off to Amritsar...

Oy

We're still here, really! There's no internet in Likir and we only get into Leh infrequently. And being in Leh doesn't necessarily mean good internet - we're looking at DSL on a good day, on a network swampped with all the whities that are swampping the town. So, blogging.... well, we're trying!

I have posts in the hopper about our journey up here and of course about life at the monastery too... hoping to post them in the next 24 hours, internet gods and the children willing!

In the meantime, please know that we are thinking of all of you SO often and missing you more than you can imagine. There is a big countdown running on our wall at home and each day we celebrate being 24hours closer to seeing all of you again. Ladakh is truly wonderful and I will love leaving it all the same.

Hug each other for us, stay tuned, and we'll see you SOON!

Ladakh!

Another quick update...

We are in Ladakh, taking a few days in Leh to acclimatize and re-stock before heading up to Likir for the next 2 months. Our mini vacation was full of all sorts of excitement - everything from food poisoning to making new friends at train stations to running into old friends in the most unexpected places to a spin through the most heavily fortified airport I've ever seen. Pictures are forthcoming, but that will have to wait for a more organized internet cafe visit.

Leh is wonderful. Small and right now very peaceful as the tourist season hasn't quite started yet and the whole town is under a 'bund' (strike) at the behest of a local political organization. The weather is divine - highs only in the 60s, crystal blue skies, but with snow showers up on the high peaks - really cool to watch. We're holed up in a groovy little guest house tucked back away from the main road, and having fun playing with the 2 little boys who live there. Ben and Caitlin are already picking up some rudimentary Ladakhi.

Looking forward to the next 2 months!

We Have A Winner!

Actually, we have 2.

Way back when we put out a call for suggestions of places to visit on our pre-Ladakh vacation.  The stateside representative of Team MH has the glorious distinction of being our second Smells Like Nag Champa contest winner!  She suggested we go to the Punjab and that is precisely where we have gone.  Rock on Team MH!

And our first contest, waaaaay back in Varanasi was won by our most frequent visitor, Grampy.  He knew that bhang was dope and threw in a vintage overseas PhD research story for extra credit.  Nice work Grampinator.

I don't think we promised prizes for the vacation contest, but maybe I'll round up some sweet Punjabi shoes so MH and Raisin can match.  And as for my pops, he was promised some Nag Champa soap, but I doubt that smelling like a hippie is his thing...  how about unlimited yak butter tea when we see you in a few weeks?  

35

Mr Nag Champa polished off 35 big years yesterday, and in damn fine form.  He originally hoped to celebrate in Dharamsala, including a go at open mic night in McLoed Ganj, but somehow managed to make due with Amritsar.

The big day started with a morning train in from Chandigar.  Mr. NC made friends with some khalsa sikhs, 

serenaded all and sundry on the platform 

and then enjoyed a ride filled with reading to Ben, writing poetry and playing Mancala.  Upon arrival Mr. NC got his first birthday surprise, being met on the platform by 3 hotel guys who managed porters and whisked us away to one of the loveliest hotels we've ever, ever, seen.  

Bowled over by the hotel (see the next post) Mr. NC was given a cake by the GM, complete with personalized felicitations in chocolate.  

After a dip in the pool and a late lunch we headed out to the India-Pakistan border to witness hundreds celebrating Chris's birthday/the border closing ceremony

We passed more revelers on the way home.

And then wrapped up with a very late (and only marginally cranky) dinner back at the hotel.  We did the traditional Respection of the 35 Year Old along with a Year in Review and Hopes and Goals for the coming year.  

Can't imagine how we'll top this one!