Oh God, Save Me
McLeod Ganj, home of the Dalai Lama. The town is the Tibetan Capital-in-exile, and it feels nothing like the rest of India. Buddhism reigns supreme around these parts, and there are monasteries and monks dressed in orange and maroon cloaks. When I arrived, my attention quickly turned towards the cuisine. Steam would rise from lidless stockpots along the street and form a wet fog on the thin corrugated metal sheets overhead. A steam this wet can only mean one thing: broth. I leaned my face over a boiling cauldron of the liquid gold to get a good look at it. Tears filled my eyes as I bore witness to the beauty. Sweet Jesus, that fat, rising to the center and getting pushed back towards the outskirts as the bubbles from the simmer assert their dominance. I had to back away before my tears became part of the decadent concoction. I kindly, and emotionally, requested a bowl. The cook asked me a question I hadn’t considered: veg or non-veg? I’ve been pure vegetarian for the entirety of this trip, and my cravings for flesh have steadily worsened. Non-veg. He brought out a bowl so obscenely filled with meat from various animals. Not only meat, but fat, tendons, innards. Himalayan survival food. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Chicken and yak meat. I’m not familiar with the yak, but it was a bad day to be one I can assure you. I dove into the bowl with ferocity. I’ve been so cold for so many days, I had forgotten the comforts of a hot soup. My soul was alive, I was in heaven. As I continued through the town, I noticed how many other soup and noodle dishes they have. I became a barbarian – eating everything in sight, grunting, slurping, moaning, banging my fists on the table, scaring women and children. Something came over me, and I will not apologize.
I went to a café and befriended the owner. I also met a Canadian couple, and we bonded over the jam band scene. They’re Phish heads, I’m more of a JRAD guy, but we had the utmost respect for one another. I ended my night watching live Bollywood music at a café - I always feel envy watching others perform. It’s a good and healthy envy. The stage beckons me. The markets in this town are dangerous. One could spend an entire day shopping for handmade Tibetan goods. I need to maintain discipline – but my apartment could use some more décor... This is how it happens.
Wonderful! I was right there with you!
Glad your enjoying the cuisine! ❤️❤️❤️