What you are looking at here is the final product of a full day's hard-wrought glory, my sweat and tears (well, tears might be an exaggeration) in box form. How this shining parcel came into being is another story, full of adventure and misadventure, rickshaw rides and head-wobble responses. I am proud of this box, and look forward to seeing it again in 3 months.
Here is a stack of 10 or so books that I purchased from the Bihar School of Yoga for 1,000 RS or $25 USD. I checked on amazon.com and found the same titles for $15-20 each... so YES, it was a steal, and even more so for the wonderful Indian adventure that I had to endure (am I contradicting myself?) to get them packaged and ready to send home. Even with the cost of multiple rickshaw rides, tailor-made packaging, international shipping, and the ice cream sundae that I had to buy to boost my blood sugar levels just in order to
persevere (a purely medical motivation, I assure you).... I STILL got a deal, and assuming that they arrive at their destination, I look forward to this stack of books. I will share them with you, if you think you might enjoy them too. They range in topics from the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, Asana Pranayama, the Moola Bandha, Tantra Meditation, the Upanishads....etc etc. Books in India are a good deal, but they aren't so good for back packing.
Hannah had some mailing to do too and we thought it would be nice to do it together. We located packing supplies and then headed to the post office. After waiting in line and musing over the associated rules of orderliness (which no one seemed to learn as a child here) we finally made it to the window where our questions were not answered and we were turned back out into the blazing afternoon. We found a tailor down the street and around the corner and asked if they prepared packages for shipping. All outgoing packages must be wrapped and sewn in a white linen cloth and to get the discounted book rate, this must be done while leaving a window to expose the contents for inspection. Try explaining that to a deaf/mute tailor in a shop where no one speaks English anyways. Many hand gestures and doodles later (I drew a house and pointed repeatedly to the window and to the windows in the shop, making a square with my hands, insisting on some foreign sounding word "window, window!" and pointing at the end of the package... and finally grabbed a piece of cardboard and the seamstress' scissors, cut one out myself, held it to the side of the package, and wrapped my fingers around my eyes in spectacle fashion again pointing to the end of the box).... "Ahhhhhhh, window!" "YES, WINDOW!!!" hey, smiles all around, thumbs up, A-OK's, YES, we have communication! And what a nice man he was! For the next 10 minutes as he worked away I got smiles and thumbs up's one after another from him and from everyone else in the shop. He was quite proud of his work. He charged me too much 120 RS or $3, but "Sure," I said, "because I like you!" This comment led me to much embarrassment as I now had to explain to everyone in the room and especially to his wife (pictured in red) that no, I don't mean I
like him, I understand that they're married, I just mean he's a nice man! I appreciate his efforts! Thank you for the work and I'll be leaving now!
So, we took our boxes and set off for the post office once again. I was worried that my package would never make it around the world with a big hole in the side, so I ducked into a supermarket (1 of 2 that I've seen in India) and bought a roll of packing tape to secure my window! Back to the post office, and wouldn't you know that they close each day at 2:30. I don't blame them, it was hot in there, in fact the sweat was dripping off me when I'd waited before, kind of like the way it was dripping off me again as I stood there with my shining parcel squinting up at the big padlocks on the iron door.
So now the box sits patiently next to my door in my room, waiting for me to summon up my patience and errand-running gusto once again. All in all, it was a great experience, and one that I am lucky to relive in sometimes small, and sometimes grand ways, each and every day. Today I will return to the train station to try to exchange a train ticket, no small feat, I am sure. WISH ME LUCK. (!)
Is a picture really worth a thousand words? Could this one possibly express how happy I am to be here in Dharamsala, surrounded by kind and compassionate people, eating good healthy food, listening to enlightening and encouraging teachings by the most learned of teachers, breathing the clean mountain air, and looking up at the Himalayans morning, day, and night? I am having an incredible time. I feel so fortunate to be here.
