I am entering into my last week here at the nunnery and in Ladakh.  The summer has flown by while I enjoyed a truly amazing time here at LNA (the Ladakh Nuns’ Association).  I plan to actually get the writing gears in motion sometime next week, and include a proper update.  Until then pictures (a mere sampling of the thousands) will have to suffice.

Enjoy the browsing…

Buddha, Thiksey Monastery

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Thiksey Monastery, Ladakh

Stupas, Ladakh

Indus Valley, Ladakh

Shey Palace, Ladakh

My mom and I, Kardung La

Bactrian Camel, Nubra Valley Ladakh

Bactrian Camel, Nubra Valley Ladakh

My mom riding a camel, Nubra Valley Ladakh

Nubra Valley, Ladakh

Nubra Valley, Ladakh

Nubra Valley, Ladakh

Young child, Nubra Valley Ladakh

Young child, Nubra Valley Ladakh

Young child, Nubra Valley Ladakh

Myself on the summit of Stok Kangri, 6,125 M (20,095 FT)

Conquered by my even more INCREDIBLE MOM!!!

My mom and I on Stok La, 4900 M (16,076 FT)

My beautiful mother!

I had the pleasure of backpacking through India for the past four weeks with my rock star mother.  There are very few 72-year-old woman trekking around India, actually…come to think of it… there may have been only one.  Needless to say my mom is quite incredible – from the overflowing streets of sweltering Delhi to the solitude of Himalayan passes in Ladakh; from world-renowned Muslim relics, like the Taj Mahal, to small sheltered villages that hug the Pakistan border; from relaxing on raj-era houseboats in Kashmir to playing with children in the slums of Himachal Pradesh – we packed my mom’s 4 weeks full of adventure.

My mom and I at Khardung La (highest motorable pass in the world, 18,380 FT)

Spending the past 1o months in India, surrounded by Tibetan friends who have been separated from their parents by impenetrable borders, has made me realize just how lucky I am.  I made an effort to appreciate every moment with my mother, taking nothing for granted.  Of coarse, just before she left I began planning her next visit!

My mom in Ladakhi dress

Mom mom and Emily riding on camels in the Nubra Valley, Ladakh

My mom in Turtuk, small village on the Indo-Pakistan border

My mom with prayer wheels, Alchi Monastery Ladakh

My mom at Khardung La (highest motorable pass in the world, 18,380 FT)

After my mom’s departure I moved into a Buddhist nunnery, part of the Ladakh Nun’s Association, just outside Leh.  The nunnery will serve as a perfect home this summer.  During my first day I mentioned to one of the young nuns that my mother had just left, explaining that I had been sad to see her go.  The nun immediately assured me that I didn’t need to feel lonely as I had many (new) ‘sisters’ now.  :)

I am once again teaching English at the nunnery.  I have small conversation based classes with the school girls in the morning and evenings.  However, the bulk of the day is spent with a group of 5 nuns (age 19 and 20) who have completed their formal schooling and are preparing to move to Mcleod Ganj (my home for the first 9 months in India) where they will begin studying Tibetan medicine in the fall in their pursuit to become both nuns and nurses – busy ladies!  Unfortunately, despite completing high school, many of the schools in Ladakh (particularly government-funded schools) are a bit below par.  Therefore the girls’ English leaves a bit to be desired, especially when it comes to the daily and functional applications of the language, such as…SPEAKING!  Aside from these aspects we are also working on confidence and women’s empowerment with the ladies as they are extremely (to a detrimental extent) timid.

Finally, the nunnery is a perfect and very conducive environment for my own studies.  With little in the way of distractions I have plenty of time to study language (Hindi and Tibetan), study more Buddhism, complete some writing, and read a handful of books.

I am preparing to watch the summer fly by, with a schedule full of teaching, studying, hiking and exploring!

I will leave Ladakh and head south at the end of August, arriving in Delhi just in time to greet Marski and Jessie at the airport!

That’s all for now, stay tuned for more updates.

As of 7:30 pm Monday I was done.  I am sore, exhausted and have very tender feet, but all in all it was a success!  I ended up sleeping during the night as one of my male companions fell through, which left me out of options.  It can be scary to wander around the woods at home during the night, but it is plain stupid to do it in India.  So India and I resolved our differences around 8 pm on Saturday, as I set my alarm and collapsed into bed.

However, while the walk is over the fundraising has just begun!  We will continue keeping track of the money donated to Tong Len until June 30th, as we attempt our goal of $12,000!  Remember to email me (hzimm32[AT]gmail[DOT]com) when you donate to Tong Len, so as to keep track of the total amount raised.

With more detail to come, the highlights included:

1. Walking up a path on my 2nd trip uphill behind on of the construction workers (female) that lives in the slum.  Sharing her companionship in silence, after exchanging a namaste, and simply admiring her alligator-textured skin.  Reminding me far before the fatigue set it how demanding life can be on so many people in this world.

2. Being humbled by a coolie (Indian physical laborer who carries astonishingly large loads for very little money), as I saw him carrying a refrigerator on his back up the hill!

3. Seeing Rajini’s (a beautiful little girl from the slum) smiling face pop out from a tuk-tuk truck’s window, as she was out collecting trash with her father.  Her little beaming face motivated me back up the hill.

4. Spending about 5 dollars total on all meals, which included: fresh cantaloupe, mangoes and watermelon (I consumed copious amounts on all 3), pani puri, two plates of chana, the best lassi I have ever consumed, spicy chinese noodles, a samosa, 2 bottles of maaza (mango juice drink), and a mango and orange ice cream – MMMMMMM!

5. Dreamily walking, and drooling, behind the ice truck as he made his morning deliveries.  This also reminded me of the stories my mom used to tell me, of ice being delivered daily to keep “ice boxes” cool.

5. Running (while being timed by Martina) on the second to last lap, while trying to subdue my giggles as I passed Indians like they were stationary (most of them were actually stationary) for the 20th-time.  I believe I helped re-define what a crazy white westerner is for these folks

6. Presently preparing to crawl into bed, after finishing the day with laundry (which is a workout in India - envision scrubbing clothes on your hands and knees, on the bathroom floor).

A huge thank you to Martina, who kept my motivation and spirit high!

To Yangchen for kicking me out of bed this morning and doing the first lap of the day with me.

To Mary for assistance with ideas and invaluable editing help.

To Marski for far exceeding the calls of a best friend in supporting this venture and promoting the work of Tong Len.

And to all of my lovely friends and supporters who have donated and helped to spread the word!

It is late, too late in fact, on Saturday night and my walk begins early tomorrow morning.  I will head off at 5 am, running down the hill towards Charan.  The first two round trip voyages will be completed as quickly as possible, before meeting up with a companion, my friend Martina, at 10 am.  From that point on the pace is sure to slow dramatically, as the temperature climbs above 100 degrees and my body slows.  Luckily, we are currently entering into peak fruit season in India, allowing me ample opportunities to indulge in fresh mango, watermelon and cantaloupe along the route.

I am excited to embark on the journey, although to be honest 6 (ish) pm Monday, my anticipated completion time, sounds very distant.  Look back for a full report of all the sweat and delirium sometime Monday night.

Thanks for all of the support!

I have decided to extend the fundraiser and will now be collecting money, towards my goal of $12,000, until June 30th.  This date will still get the funds to Tong Len in plenty of time and provides me with some essential extra time for fundraising.  The actual event, walking between Mcleod Ganj and Charan, 12 continuous times, will still take place this weekend on May 22nd and 23rd.  I anticipate the journey to take a total of 36 to 40 hours.  Progress in the daytime will be slowed down considerably by temperatures that reach over 100 degrees!

Below is a recent article that I have written for publication.  The article aims to publicize Tong Len’s amazing work and advertise the fundraiser.  I would greatly appreciate any networking support that my readers could provide, either by distributing this article or passing around my blog’s address.

A very sincere thank you to all of my supporters!

In so many ways, India couldn’t be more different from my quiet, rural childhood home in Western Maine.  The subcontinent has the ability to overwhelm your senses: the aroma of masala, the overt monstrosity of poverty, the dust clogged air, and the various discomforts of life in this crowded country.  Despite this, nine months later, India has become a second home to me and provided a context for life’s most valuable lessons.  So, by what magic has Indian won my heart?

I invite you to join me at the foot of the Indian Himalayas, in the mountain outpost of Mcleod Ganj.  Every morning, I walk 6 miles downhill to Charan, home to a plot of sprawling black plastic tents.  I make my way through trash strewn paths, finally arriving at a canvass tent.  It’s an oasis within this slum, which is home to 800 internally displaced Indians.

The ring of children’s voices joins together and creates a chorus; “Good morning Ma’am!” Children scamper, barefooted, across the cement floor reaching up towards you with open arms and pleading eyes.  You look down upon a sea of innocent faces.  Hope radiates forth from these little beings, reminding you of the latent potential that all children embody, regardless of circumstance or nationality.  Each day I join volunteers bathing the children, feeding them nutritious meals, instructing them in English and Hindi, and training them in polite behavior.  

Bagu

Bagu (age 2, pictured above) is the youngest sibling in her family.  She spends the majority of her time in the arms of her brothers, Gabbard and Kheeta (4 and 5, respectively).  Bagu suffers the hunger, skin rashes and physical wounds of poverty in silence.  Unfortunately, many days Bagu’s presence is missed, as she is lugged uphill to Mcleod Ganj by desperate young mothers begging for money.  Entrenched in scarcity, these mothers struggle through their daily existence, stripped of the ability to invest in or even consider tomorrow.  What is the future for a child who spends their formative years entrenched in the most stigmatized forms of labor? 

Nearby, an entirely different story plays out for a group of 40 children.  These are the siblings of children like Bagu, however they have received a far different fortune; they are the residents of the Tong Len hostel.  The hostel, which is separate from the tent school, was created on the premise that when you provide an uninhibited opportunity for a single child from each family, transformational changes will ensue.  By elevating these select children from the intergenerational cycle of abject poverty, they are empowered to raise their own families from the slum. 

The minute you enter the hostel you are transported into a completely different realm.  Children display courtesy and etiquette not as the result of restriction and punishment but rather from the conducive nurturing support they receive in their first secure living environment.  Statistics and stories that spell success are capitalized by the children themselves. A short distance from the slum, the hostel provides these children with a reality that is a world away.  

Tong Len was founded in 2004 by Jamyang, a Tibetan Buddhist monk, under the tutelage of His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama.  Tong Len provides a way for the local exiled Tibetan community to repay the support that they have received from the people of India. It also highlights the selfless compassion for which Tibetans are known.

Tong Len is currently finishing construction on a new hostel which will house twice as many children.  Children will start moving into the new hostel, and their new life, by July.  However, one challenge remains.  Funding is still needed to support twenty-four of the children scheduled to live in the new hostel.

On May 22^nd and 23^rd I will make the journey between Mcleod Ganj and Charan, 6 miles and 2,000 vertical feet, 12 continuous times.  Each length representing one of the children whose lives can be transformed by the hostel – freeing them from the shackles of poverty and the uphill drudgery of begging.  This physical challenge will be performed under the hope of raising $12,000, the remaining money needed for the room, board and educational costs for the first six months.  If you’d like to help me, money can be donated directly through Tong Len’s website [www.tong-len.org].  You can find more information and learn of my progress on my blog [http://hzimm.wordpress.com].

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In 2009, amid feelings of not contributing my fair share to society, I decided to plan a 48 hr challenge with the intention of raising as much money as possible for Greg Mortenson’s CAI.  At the time choosing an organization to raise money for was a “no brainer”.  I had immediately fallen in love with Mortenson’s vision and work after reading Three Cups of Tea.  There was no other organization that I would have considered raising the money for.  I am a huge proponent of the endless possibilities opened by education, and as a female can naturally identify with added need that Mortenson addresses for marginalized girls.  The fundraiser ended up being one of the more rewarding experiences I have done in my life and left the CAI with an extra $3,000 dollars.

Two years later, I am living in India and to say their are a surplus of fund-stricken yet worthy organizations is an understatement.  India is characterized by three things: its bold claustophobic lifestyle; call centers; and a deep, desperate and unrelenting void of poverty.

I have spent the past 8 months living in a Himalayan hill post called Mcleod Ganj, in the north Indian state of Himachal Pradesh.  In both the spring and fall Mcleod Ganj is thronging with foreigners, predominently drawn to the town because it serves as the home of the Tibetan government in exile.  In fact, the town’s composition is now so heavy with Tibetan refugees that they outnumber Indians.

There is little that western tourists enjoy more than practicing their meditation and yoga; layering in cheaply made, synthetic, landfill-clogging “hippie clothing”; and talking about compassion.  Naturally, if one wishes to speak about compassion, and the philosophy that surrounds it, they will land at the feet of Tibetan Buddhism.  It is easy to assume that the inundation of tourists in Mcleod Ganj bring with them a transformative economic miracle.  And while transformative it certainly is, miracle may be left up for debate.  With western money comes inflation, at an unreasonable rate.  This has inevitably pushed many of the area’s original dwellers further down into the valley, as rooms are swallowed up by foreigners, like myself.  Furthermore, foreigners often look down upon the beggars that come into town, grasping for a livelihood.  And while I don’t financially support the practice of begging, due to its in-sustainability, I do find it rather contradictory when, in the ‘town of compassion’ we fail to realize the commonality that we all share as human beings.  Compassion is realized when we can find the courage to face the fears of our own vulnerability and delve into situations of such desperation that it is hard to imagine ever rising to the surface again.

However, the money that drives most Indians down the valley also pulls a few back up.  At the base of the hill, over 10 kilometers and 2,000 ft below Mcleod Ganj lies Charan.  And in the heart of Charan, sprawling alongside the bolder-strewn river is a mess of plastic black tents: a slum of internally displaced Indians.  The “camp”, as we lovingly refer to it, consists of three separate communities: Indians coming from north Rajasthan, south Rajasthan, and Maharashtra.  Rajasthan and Maharashtra are two separate states in south/central India that at one time depended heavily upon agriculture.  However, due to growing droughts and an encroaching desert many inhabitants were forced to accomodate to the changing climate or flee.  The families, over 250, living in this camp came to Himachal Pradesh desperate for money and a means to support their families.  Like any country, the states within India vary dramatically not only in landscape and environment but also in culture.  The residents of this camp are living in squalid conditions among a population that in most respects seems foreign.  Squatting on the land, the group is vulnerable to the fact that at any time the government could force them to move off the land.

With little to no education, and a large family size that typically accompanies those statistics, there are few options for this group to make a living.  Work is predominently divided among manual labor construction jobs, shoe-smiths, trashpickers (looking for valuable recyclables), and begging.  While I expect none of these jobs to sound appealing to the reader, begging will undoubtedly fall to the bottom.  In order to go out on the street and beg, day after day, one is forced to swallow their pride and surrender beneath the innate desire that all human beings have to be self-sufficient.  Unless you are a leper, begging is reserved for the women and children.  Women trudge up the hill in sweltering temperatures that reach over 110 degrees, with over-heating, head-flopping babies tied with cloth to their waists.

My fundraiser is not for these women…well, not directly at least.

In the beginning of March I started working for a local organization called Tong Len, named after the Buddhist Tong Len practice.  The organization was established in 2004 by Jamyang, a Tibetan Buddhist monk.  Jamyang, who studied Buddhist philosophy in southern India, came to Dharamsala to study under the tutelage of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.  After arriving in Dharamsala he was deeply impacted by the severe cases of suffering, particularly through poverty, that he witnessed.  With the resolve to act on his emotion he founded Tong Len, an organization dedicated to assisting marginalized internally displaced Indians by providing healthcare and educational opportunities.

Through my limited experience in the world of NGOs I believe it is easy to become disenfranchised or apathetic.  You enter an idealist, with stars in your eyes, dreaming of becoming the next transformative humanitarian or environmentalist.  However, after some time you begin to see the same problems and difficulties that you thought you were evading by leaving the corporate world behind.  Organizations suffer from their own cases of mis-managment, instability and lack of fruition.

My short 3 months with Tong Len has been drastically different from the afore mentioned experience.  I believe the organization is run on a clear, sophisticated and highly developed plan.  Great pains are taken to achieving a productive balance.  One where relationships can be formed within the community, ensuring that the necessary help can be given, and that once given it will be received.  While at the same time supplementing the ideas with the necessary research and field work to guarantee that the desired progress will be realized.  I feel privileged to volunteer for Tong Len, and am confident that I will not meet anyone more compassionate, reasonable or driven than Jamyang in my entire life.  Most importantly, I have fallen in love with the children in Charan.  They provide a daily reminder of life’s beauties, which I too often take for granted.  This fundraiser is for these children, and the women who carry them up the hill.

The money is for their livelihood and the prospects of their future, not for their pockets.  The money is for Tong Len, because as an organization they have the very real potential to transform these people’s future.  Currently, Tong Len’s educational program is split into two separate focuses.  Firstly, they fund and run a tent school, located in the slum itself.  This is where I spend my days, cleaning, teaching, feeding and playing with children, anywhere from 2 to 13 years old.  However, the organization’s visionary agenda takes place up the road at their hostel.  The hostel currently boards 20 boys and 20 girls.  No more than 1 child is taken from each family, on the premise that one child, realizing their potential, has the power to lift each family out of their destitution.  The results of the hostel are astounding.  I have never come across a group of such disciplined, grateful and well-behaved children, regardless of what country I have been in.  The developmental differences between the children in the hostel and those at the tent school are simply incomparable.

In July 2011 Tong Len will open their new hostel, which will accomodate twice as many students.  While most of the financial bases have already been accounted for the funding for 24 of the new hostel students needs to be covered.  Tong Len is able to house, feed, dress and educate each of these children for $1,000 USD/year.  I am aiming to raise half of the tuitions still needed, $12,000 USD.  This is an extremely lofty goal, but a challenge that I am excited and energetic to tackle.

And as for the challenge…

As mentioned Charan lies approximately 10 km and 2,000 ft below Mcleod Ganj.  More than just a physical distance, this also illustrates the depths of poverty that this community languishes under.  On May 22nd and 23rd I will walk up and down the hill, between Charan and Mcleod Ganj, 12 times.  I journey will be made for each child that would receive hostel tuition.  The roundtrip journey will take me approximately 3 hours, culminating in a 36+ hour expedition.  Naturally, walking along a mix of well-used paths and roads does not make for the most exciting or adventurous of terrain.  However, it does symbolize the connection, or in many cases disconnect, between the two communities.  Furthermore, in 8 months I have learned that adventure can live anywhere in India – between battling the stifling daytime heat and cacophony of horns I am sure my sense will receive all the challenge and adventure that they can handle.

I aim to collect all funds by June 3oth, so as to get the money to Tong Len in a timely fashion.

All donations should be made directly through Tong Len, and can be paid either through check or credit card (using Paypal).  Donations can be made directly on Tong Lens website.  However, I do ask that people email me when they make a donation which will allow us to keep track of the money raised and track our progress towards the final goal of $12,000!  Support does not only have to be financial but can also be through spreading Tong Len’s message by word of mouth.

Thank you very much for all of your support!

Emails can be sent to hzimm32[AT]gmail[DOT]com

I will publish the name of all donors on the fundraiser’s page of this blog.  If you do not wish for your name to appear let me know in your email.

*All pictures are property of Heather and cannot be replicated without permission.

Tong Len children

Ideas from Tong Len

Life groans on achingly,

Beneath the sprawling mass of suffocating black plastic

Designed for discomfort and intended challenge.

Microbes flex their mighty strength

Foraging unchallenged upon an array of human flesh,

Creating cresting mountains

And bubbling hills below the skin.

Sustenance is forever fleeting,

And strength is defined not by the show of excess muscle

But by the lack of protruding bone.

An astounding rainbow of textiles,

In vivid colors and shimmering sequins,

Cut through the dreary landscape.

Illustrating the persistent delirium created by material desires.

Absurd quantities of gold

Laden heavily decorated sheepish figures

Enabling an unexpected economic hierarchy to persist.

Brains bake under the relentless Indian sun

Similiar to the cracked mud and shit underfoot.

Splitting soles step on smeared faces in a chaotic clamber towards the top,

Which remains nothing but an eluding vision.

Forever out of reach

For the desparate souls inescapably committed to the depths of poverty.

Unrealised potential is the rule rather than an exception.

Ambition suffers under the oppressive weight of reality.

Children trudge about with babies strapped to their hips

Inheriting the burden of childrearing from their parents,

At an inescapably young age.

Virgin skin crawls in protest

Under the pressing touch of filthy fingers.

The observer scrambles to retain their invisible shield,

Any sembelance of protection from this starving landscape.

A background chorus of tears flood your ears

Continuing unstopped and unappreciated,

Apparently unobserved.

Underequipped teachers become unequipped doctors

Redefining Eastern medicine to fill the voids left by absent professionals.

A field office of improvisation

Produces a collage of available materials

To hide the glaring face of gashes, cuts and burns that shout abuse.

Life slows so significantly that one ponders the workings of their watch,

Which surely must have retired upon arrival.

“Slowly, slowly” reverberates through the camp as a reminding condemnation,

Life trickles on as dreams slip past.

And from within the darkest trenches

Rise the most illuminating lessons of life,

The deep caverns of poverty

Afford the underappreciated freedom of full emotional expression.

Revealing that beneath the shadow of an idolized society

Continues a world utterly content and alive.

The scene floods your senses with contradiction.