There are several ways to get to the Parvati Valley from Dharmsala: a local bus, an overnight bus to Manali (which would reach our stop, Kullu, at about 3am), o...
My boyfriend has dubbed India the “land of ambiguous gestures.” From the signature side-to-side head waggle that doesn't signify a yes or no but is mostly equiv...
As I've previously made clear, heady chanting isn't exactly the kind of thing I find easy on the ears. When it's a team of Buddhist monks at a temple in Cambodi...
Genocide sucks. Especially when it's been going on for over fifty years. The situation looks bleak for Tibet. But in Dharmsala, India, the ex-pat Tibetan re...
A baby cow nearly peed on us while we were seated in a cement cove near a chai stall playing Scrabble (or “exhibitionist Scrabble” as my boyfriend has recently ...
I love music festivals. I was raised by Deadheads. I enjoy road trips and camping. I definitely don't wash my hair every day. I believe in the power of intentio...
India needs a good sign guy. Nothing too crazy. No elaborate graphic design or stylish fonts. Basic words and arrows. And perhaps a sign-placement consultant. T...
India has gone and proven me wrong. Quite literally right after I had published my last post which rambled on and on about the “end of the season” and how quiet...
Sunset cows.
Down the street there is a tiny bakery. There is no sign out front and I am not sure if it even has a name. It is a modest store front with two...
Nearby in Arambol, there is a fresh water “sweet lake.” Set amongst a small grove of palm trees on the backside of the beach, the still water mirrors the rippli...
In my previous post, a friend of mine from Colorado had been visiting on a business trip. After reading my past few articles on India, he called my writing “sca...
Photo Credit: Aaron Korostyshevsky
When it comes to civility as we know it, India is opposite land. Chivalry is dead in India- because it never existed in t...