THE UNIQUE TOWN OF MCLEOD GANJ
Whilst restrictions of Lockdown have prevented us from travelling to far-flug places, here is a trip down ‘memory lane’ from Seaford resident, Val Franklin, when she visited India in 2001.
It is really cool up here. After the thrashing monsoon rains and breath-sucking humidity of Delhi and Rishikesh, it is a welcome relief. Gripping onto a small plateau in the Dhauladar Range of mountains at the foothills of the Himalayas, this quaintly named town of McLeod Ganj (photo right) is a unique blend of tradition and modern, drab and colourful, unknown and world renowned. Over two thousand metres above sea level, pristine blue skies radiate purity in direct contrast to the filth on the ground. Eagles soar relentlessly in the skies. The local bus journey from Dharamsala, was a test of endurance. The bus juddered its way up steep, winding roads, swinging around hairpin bends which drop hundreds of feet into chasms below, I felt I needed nerves of steel and the constitution of an ox to survive. The lolling head of the Indian man next to me fell on my shoulder as he snoozed. Forests of pine and red rhododendron trees squeeze this quaint town and its narrow, potholed roads into a tight band. Buildings beleaguered by harsh rains and strong suns offer the visitors a blend of Tibetan cafés selling momos and noodles, Indian biryanis and kormas, Kashmiri shawls and carpets. Interspersed are modern, clean and well-lit shops with an array of rare commodities in small Indian towns such as Tahini and peanut butter, Lipton’s tea and chocolate cakes. Liquor stores sit shoulder to shoulder with laundries and the shelves of Tibetan handicraft shops overflow with brocade wall hangings, ritual objects such as bells, prayer wheels and flags, delightfully painted tea mugs and bowls, and woolen blankets. A video hall advertises ‘5 Movies a Day’ on a blackboard. It is very dark inside with black curtains and wooden benches. And no popcorn. Along the roads, there are no pavements. Vendors sit knitting and chatting with their beautifully created turquoise and coral jewellery, yak wool shawls and gilets displayed on makeshift tables lining the streets. This is the setting for one of the most famous leaders of the world – the 14th Dalai Lama and the Tibetan
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Government in Exile. After the Chinese invasion of Tibet which caused enormous turmoil, anguish and horrendous suffering for the Tibetan people, the Dalai Lama escaped in 1959 in the hopes of achieving reprieve and support from Western countries. On arrival in India, the benevolent Indian Government offered him and his people hospitality and a safe refuge. In this unique situation, the Dalai Lama built a temple on the edge of a plateau and started giving teachings on Buddhist philosophy. His compassion, humour, sincerity and devotion quickly earned him a reputation which has encouraged and attracted many thousands of followers, devotees and even non-believers from almost every country, nationality and religion in the world. A popular walk is the Lingkor, a pathway lined with ubiquitous prayer flags and mani stones and hugging the side of this plateau, it encircles the Dalai Lama’s residence. Apart from affording magnificent views down the valleys, devotees believe that by circumambulating it and saying heartfelt mantras, negative deeds can be purified. It is to this extraordinary town, that thousands of people, some just curious, others searching for answers, come for hope and salvation. They are seldom disappointed. Many return year after year, many find accommodation and the means to support themselves for months or years at a time. I was one of them. I arrived with a backpack and a leap of faith, and stayed for 18 years. Despite a deluge of expected and unexpected challenges, I also found a pot pourri of cultures, languages and traditions in a melting pot of tolerance, friendliness, hospitality, kindness and extreme enthusiasm for learning and wisdom, rooted in the ancient Indian philosophy 3,000 years old. Val Franklin
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