It has been an eventful week, marked by losar preparations, our move to Mcleod Ganj, and me being too sick to notice much of it.
I can write it now that I’m on my way to a –hopefully– full recovery. I’ve been diagnosed with Giardia, a nasty parasite that’s very persistent but also very common. The details aren’t pretty, and I want all of you to continue reading so I won’t talk about them now, but suffice it to say that it was bad enough to make me swear off all sorts of spicy non-cooked sauces at roadside dhabas –my absolute favorite. Dhabas are traditional Indian roadside restaurants, and mine and my roommate’s shared love for spicy was the first thing that allowed us to bond.
About my roommate: last week was my last week living with Gaphel, and now the Emory group has moved from isolated Sarah college to the bustling hippie enclave of Mcleod Ganj. Compared to the size and surroundings at Sarah, most of us feel like we’re now in New York, where there wifi cafés abound, yoga studios are a dime a dozen, and Pure-Veg restaurants are populated by westerners with dreadlock with not one Tibetan or Indian in sight. This change epitomizes the notion of bittersweet; as wonderful as it is to have easy access to internet and hikes to waterfalls and falafel and yoga studios, leaving Sarah college was much harder than I once thought it would be.
I love my roommate, and miss her. There was no escaping the separation, so we celebrated our friendship in style. We had meals and spicy at all sorts of canteens and dhabas close to Sarah, and last Thursday we even made khapsay together. Khapsay is the traditional Tibetan biscuit made for Losar (the Tibetan New Year). There are several kinds of Khapsay, the most intricate, resembling donkey ears, are only made by specialists, but all the students at Sarah cancel classes on one day to make countless smaller Khapsay.
The process takes an entire day, and biscuits can be as simple as tiny squares or braided designs. Here you can see some pictures of the Khapsay making process, including a Khapsay I am very proud of having made given my lack of skills whne it comes to arts and crafts. The best part of making Khapsay is tasting them at the end. Sweet dough and white flower is fried, sometimes in butter.
“Do you like?” Gaphel asked. What’s not to like?
Speaking of Khapsay, I have a plate of it in front of me as I write this at my host family’s. Since Saturday, I’ve had a new a-ma-la (mother) who works at a tailoring shop, a pa-la (father) who is an ex-monk and former political prisioner –he was caught by the Chinese trying to flee Tibet and was tortured for four years at a Chinese prison– and a ten-year old pochun (little brother). The four of us sleep in one cozy room –by cozy of course I mean tiny– but we’re lucky to have our own kitchen and bathroom –both also tiny. They’re so kind, offering me all kinds of Tibetan medicine to cure my Giardia, and my little brother is a bundle of energy with a special place for Tom and Jerry. The pa-la and a-ma-la are amazing cooks, and already I’ve been allowed to make the breakfast omelettes. I’m hoping to leave in four weeks with knowledge of the preparation of a couple Tibetan dishes under my belt.
Unfortunately, I have no pictures of them at the moment, since my camera suffered a mysterious accident and the lens refuses to open.Also, old pictures are taking too long to load, so it's either this or nothing. More updates coming on Losar celebrations.
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