Exploring Norbulinka

The Norbulinkha Institute

13^th May

My plan for today is to go and see what is at Norbulinkha – as recommended by my guide in Ladakha.  I establish that the Tibetan Institute (as recommended by the guide books) and the Nunnery and the Monastery might be worth a visit.

I had intended starting early, to avoid walking up hill  in too much heat, but I was too engrossed in Seven Years in Tibet and determined to finish it before I went anywhere.  

Water prayer wheel in the grounds of the
Norbulkinka Institute

As I went to fill my water bottles, Lungrig was cooking flatbread, and vegetables for late breakfast so I asked if I could have one piece of flatbread and was directed to take 2, as that was the ration for everyone.

Just for the record flatbread (naan) is OK with butter and marmalade.

I head for Fatiphur, briefly wonder about a café latte before heading up to Norbulinkha, and decided not to. 

I find the Institute without too much trouble; today is the “second Saturday” so workshops are closed, the temple is closed, the Thankha exhibition is closed – but I can walk round and visit the doll museum and the shop at a reduced cost (40 rupees).

Map of Tibet in the Doll Museum at the Norbulinka Institute

An Indian gentleman asks me how I like the place, and while I think I would rather be at its original namesake – which is the summer palace of the Dalai Lama in Tibet, I realize that, given my reading of this morning, to say this would evoke emotions, so content myself with saying it is lovely.

The doll museum is rather lovely – dolls costumed in all sorts of traditional Tibetan dress, ceremonial robes, Cham dance costumes, etc and nicely explained by the interpretation signs.

7th - 9th Century Tibetan Kings in the doll museum at the
Norbulinka Institute

The purpose of the Institute is to preserve the traditional Tibetan arts – and the products of the workshops and classes are on sale in the shop – quite expensive, I think (prayer flags that I brought from McLeod Ganj cost 60 rupees, here they were 100) but we do have a guarantee that goods are handmade by Tibetans, not mass produced somewhere. 

I walk around the temple, turning the prayer wheels, and am interrupted by Indian tourists who want their photos taken with me.  It will not be the only time today my services in front of a camera are requested.

Traditional skin boat in the doll museum at Norbulinka Institute

After an OK latte and a chocolate donut that was a mistake, I wander in the general direction of the nunnery.  It is located far enough up the hill to catch the breeze – which is just lovely!  I walk around and observe the nuns being most industrious: airing their bedding, doing their washing, shaving each others’ heads and polishing the woodwork of the building – including hanging half out the windows to achieve this task for the upper stories.

I chat with one nun who is busy cleaning the bowls for butter lamps, and she tells me her mother has recently died and she is sad.  She also tells me she is one of 10 children but all her siblings are still in Tibet.  Her English is not good enough for me to ask about her journey here.

Masked festival dancers in the Doll Museum

On my way out, I sit on a shaded wall for a bit to have some water and a bit of a rest, and an elderly nun comes past, greets me with “Tashi delek” to which I respond likewise.  She tells me to put my hat on, because the sun (nyima) is strong and I must protect my complexion – her complexion being darker and not so much in need of protection (although she does cover her head with her robe)  

another local resident at the nunnery

All this is managed with no English on her part, and my only understanding of her spoken words being “nyima” – the sun!  We go on to communicate about her stout shoes, which I have remarked upon, and the reason for needing these is her arthritic knees and back.  Not a bad conversation for no shared language!

I wander back to the intersection then up to the monastery, diverting towards the disabled children’s home/school on the way.  This facility houses around 50 – many of them adult and there is a “mele” – a fair – underway.  

The fair is actually little more than a clothing sale – much of it second hand – to raise money for the facility.  A lady sitting under a tree selling food and drink waves me over to a chair beside her and I purchase a tin of pineapple “juice” which is vaguely cold and rather refreshing.

Upper reaches of the Nunnery at Norbulinka

I divert again to the facility which houses a swimming pool, and according to its sign also a “bear bar” and the ability to cater for “kitty parties”.  The mind boggles.

As I am photographing this piece of useful information, a young Sikh signals me to ask if I was photographing him and his friends (and their motorbikes)!  I indicate otherwise and in the signaling that follows receive an invitation to share their beer and crisps.  Declining this generous offer, I wave goodbye and turn to go and they come panting after me with a request for photos – with each of them in turn!

Nun polishing the first floor window frames

I find the road to the monastery and admire an artisan who is refreshing the paintwork on the gate – it is looking wonderfully bright and beautiful – and go into the compound.  All is quiet, but as I walk around the main temple, I see a large, colourful stupa housing a large prayer wheel.  After I have turned the prayer wheel 3 times, I circumambulate the stupa and find, at its rear, the dedication for it:  it was built for the martyrs – those within Tibet who have self immolated as a protest at the current regime and the dedication expresses the wish that their sacrifice may soon be rewarded by the ability of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama to return to Tibet and the return of the Panchen Lama, kidnapped by the communist government so long ago.

I admire the paintings at the entrance to the temple, but it is locked.

My return is leisurely, diverting to look at an art gallery set in a restaurant – of the more expensive variety – but the surroundings are just lovely – including a most delightful enclosed garden, of which the waiter seems very proud.

"Bear Bar" & "Kitty Parties"  - the mind boggles

A couple of the pictures – all photographs – are of the Spiti valley, which is in Himachal Pradesh, and I inquire about the location of this.  Eventually my question is understood and I understand the explanation – one must travel the Manali road – for 2 days by bus.  When I return to school I locate it on Maps.  Going there is not going to happen!

I stop to buy some vegetables – I have no idea whether the students will cook tonight or not – and buy beetroot and some other bits and pieces to make a curry.  Also a couple of mangoes and a most delicious looking pear, which is ridiculously expensive by local standards, at 35 rupees for a single pear.  The pear is crunchy and juicy – a lovely treat.  I decided to risk just washing it in drinking water rather than peeling it.

Dhualadhar range from upper Norbulinka

I also take a look at the activity in another swimming pool – and am envious, but have no desire to share the slightly milky looking water nor to bathe as one or two teenage girls are:  fully clad in long trousers and t-shirts.

I divert into a couple of shops, to look for cotton shirts or overdresses.  One shop obviously considers itself very upmarket and has a security guard at the door.  Undeterred, I enter and proceed to look at the wares on sale – a sales person or two come to assist and despite my specific request for cotton present any number of synthetic garments, telling me that in this climate synthetic is OK and its what local people like.  Not quite a sales pitch to convince me to purchase.  The daily high temperature is positively hot – even if not as hot as down on the plains!

Artisan at work at the monastery gates

When I return, Sarah shares that she had a successful shopping trip to McLeod Ganj, but was upset when the jeep driver adjusted his mirror to get a better view of her breasts.  I later suggested that this behaviour should be no more judged by her standards than should the students’ eating habits (which are not the prettiest) and that in rural India where the women cover themselves very modestly, to wear clothes she chooses (tight, low tank tops) is a risk for the attention she has just received.

The students are not around, so at 6:45 I start to cook my dinner – they then appear, but are happy to wait until I have finished in the kitchen.  There are offers of help, but when I quiz Thupten about whether he really wants to help or whether he would rather do something else, he freely admits to preferring to call his friend!  Their generosity is touching and their honesty refreshing.

Chorten built as a monument to the martyrs
- those who have self immolated in protest
at the Chinese occupation of Tibet

There is intrigue at my beetroot – and the outright statement that this is not eaten in their country.  I ask if it is grown, and that is uncertain.  Lungrig later tastes a cooked piece and declares it delicious.  I tell him he is very tactful!

While I am preparing my meal, I keep half an eye on the big fat spider that is beside the door

Internet is down and cannot be restarted.  Nate tries, adjusting the router in the office and the dish on the roof, which seems to upset a resident monkey in a tree – which appears to be showing all intentions of leaping onto Nate, who grabs his bag and retreats to his room at top speed.  I’m initially not sure why he has done this, but I follow his example before asking questions.  These monkeys sometimes seem very aggressive.

Loved the blue legs on this one

No water is coming through the pipes to the toilet or the wash room – so its carrying buckets from the “stream” again.