Now here is a story in itself. Each day we piece more and more of the puzzle to reveal an intricate and tangled web of lies, deception, influence, corruption and family politics. Even this morning, here in Dharmasala (we travelled again yesterday to another town in another province - this hill station houses the exiled Tibetan government and is the centre for all things 'spiritual'...
Dharamsala attracts many Jews in general and Israelis in particular. It is especially known as the center for spiritually oriented groups, most of which deal with meditation and energy healing. Many of our fellow Jews—'a holy people and a nation to G-d’—find themselves in monasteries and other places of idolatry studying and practicing things that oppose Judaism. From my own personal experiences I have learned that to have the maximum impact it is crucial to meet fellow Jews at the place of their spiritual search. This is the main reason we have established the Chabad house in this so distant location. - Rabbi Dror Shaul, Chabad Dharmasala
- this is where we're spending ROsh HaShanah, amongst the 'idol worshippers' and Jew Opposers.... woot! We'll wave our Tibetan prayer flags at the sounding of the Shofar.)
Anyway, where was I...
This morning I waved goodbye to Nechama at 7 30 and took advantage of an extra hour of sleep (she's an early riser, and I, naturally, like to take advantage of sleeping in an much as possible, even if its only till 8 30) and she went awandering the town and had tea with the manager of our hotel, who, as it turns out, is ALSO Kashmiri. They were discussing the filthy deception and cheating of tourists by the Kashmiri Mafia that was The Boathouse. Our Boathouse. But don't be alarmed yet. We, due to our special influence, were treated most delightfully, and actually weren't cheated at all... But more about that soon.. First, PHOTOS!!! I'm sure you're dying to see, eh.
Now, back to The Boathouse. We took the opportunity to go to Kashmir on what was a very good deal - flights, accomodation on a nice boathouse, brekkie and dinner included - what could go wrong? We were met at the airport by Bashir, who, we found out later, was the manager of the Travel Agency we were using in Kashmir. Once ushered into the Boathouse, we were given a full breakfast of eggs and Kashmiri bread and tea and biscuits and fruits and preserves and butter. "You eat breakfast and have a rest" - we were dead tired as Nech was still jetlagged and I hadn't slept so much in the previous days - "and then we can discuss what you can do here in Kashmir. Yes?" Bashir said to us. Ok, sure thing, anything goes once we rest.
After our brief snooze, Bashir met us in the dining room of the boathouse and got straight down to business - informing us about available treks in the Himalayam mountains, where else we want to go in India - "perhaps we could organise you a package for here and Rajasthan as well?" We were open ears - there's no harm in listening. Soon in about five minutes Bashir had a neat package sorted out for us including everything from the treks to camel safaris to hotels to transfers to trains to god knows what else. And the special price? Ahem. No way. We were NOT paying that ridiculous sum.
After some tears and some harsh bargaining we managed to squeeze a very reasonable amount for the package from Bashir. Later, we discovered the 'real' reason for our special price.
Bashir is in love with me.
Mind you, this man has a wife and a young child with autism and is 34 and very unattractive and Muslim (and he knows I'm Jewish - hello? Culture clash?) but apparently it's the done thing. Yes, that's right - the done thing. In Kashmir, and, I've heard across most of India, Western girls are viewed as possessing one thing - the freedom to sleep around. As more and more Kashmiris/Indians are exposed to Western culture, the more they see the green on the other side. And, while gaining the confidence of the guides and servants we began to learn about the ins and outs of such 'contracts' - the men don't love their wives, most of the guides and servants only see their family once a month (if that) - the men want something, and the girls want things too, according to them. Our guide for the trek we did (I can't believe I haven't even reached that part of our adventure yet!) became our close friend and was able to trust us with information and expression of his feelings – a freedom which wasn’t very easy around the prickly environment of the Boathouse. He now is in love with both his wife and a Swiss girl. But he is a realist as well. He understands that he lives between two worlds, opposing traditions and values, and he's just trying to make the best of it. I suppose. It's a very hard life in Kashmir. Aside from Bashir and his family (more about that later - I know, the suspense is great, isn't it!) who are filthy rich (and filthy being the operative word) most Kashmiris live in extreme poverty and because of the caste system it's very difficult to make a better life for yourself. One of servants/waiters, Shaban - I also gained his trust during our discussion of God and faith and learning more about Islam - used to own his own business and have some money for himself. He became very sick and spent all of it on medical bills, etc, and now he can't achieve the lifestyle he once had, and works as a waiter - he calls himself a servant - we told him he's not a servant, he's our friend - on the Boathouse.
It's such a difficult life. How lucky we are. How lucky.
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