Page 43 - Fiji Traveller Issue 10

Dharamsala

The serene home of Dalai Lama

By Saruul Enkhbold

When the opportunity to travel to India arose, I wondered: what could
I possibly experience in just one week? Southern India was out of the
question — the climate would be too similar to that of Fiji, where I was
living. I craved cool temperatures, clean air, and the visage of mountains
— something that would remind me of my homeland, Mongolia. I knew
then: the mountains were calling me for an epic journey.
My adventure began in Nadi, leading me through Singapore and onward
to Delhi. From there, most travellers head directly to Dharamsala via a
short domestic flight to Kangra Airport. But I chose a different path — one
that would allow me to see the landscapes of the Indian state of Himachal
Pradesh change gradually before me.
I boarded an express train from Delhi to Kalka in the Himalayan foothills,
then hopped onto the historic “toy train” — a narrow-gauge UNESCO
heritage railway that travels slowly up to Shimla. From there, a riveting,
slow drive along winding mountain roads brought me to McLeod Ganj in
the Tibetan district of Dharamsala, nestled amongst the Himalayan peaks.
McLeod Ganj is famed for its monasteries, meditation centres, and
spiritual retreats. Most importantly, it is the home of His Holiness the 14th
Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, and the centre of the Tibetan government-in-
exile.
My first morning there was unforgettable. I awoke to the sight of the snow-
capped peaks of the Dhauladhar mountain range, standing majestically
under the clear blue skies. The crisp mountain air was laced with the gentle
sounds of prayer chants from a nearby nunnery — a peaceful air that felt a
world away from the constant honking and bustle of Delhi.
Wandering through the town, I couldn’t help but notice how entrepreneurial
and modern the Tibetan community is. The streets were lined with Tibetan
handicraft shops and cozy cafés, where monks in maroon robes sat
peacefully enjoying their lattes.
At lunchtime, I ducked into a small “hole-in-the-wall” eatery and treated
myself to a steaming plate of buffalo momos, followed by a scorching cup
of butter milk tea — a high-altitude staple of Tibetan herders.
After the hearty lunch, my body craved rest, and I stumbled upon the
Kalachakra Temple. Inside, monks were deep in their daily prayers.
I sat quietly, taking in the peace that seemed to hum through my body.
Afterward, I did a round of the prayer wheels that surround the temple.
Inside, I was greeted by friendly monks preparing Torma — ritual offerings
made of barley flour for deities, spirits, and protectors.

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