Tuesday, November 18, 2008

like a turtle


I was eight and I had a pretty good idea what hell was like.  Hell was hot, and crowded, and sleepy, and it smelled like burning rubber.  Hell had hands smaller than mine, hands that grabbed at my clothes; hell had no shoes.   A train platform at sunrise, the city of Delhi was asleep, sleeping between the train tracks, between doorways, between what I knew and what I know now.   This was India 

I am moving into a moderately sized backpack,  and like a turtle, I am setting off to make my home.    India has always intimidated me, naturally;  when the Peace Corps informed me that they can not handle me until next October, I made a decision to set out for Dharamsala.  I am going live in Dharamsala with the Tibetan people and do what I can to contribute to their cause of freedom.   I leave Dec. 28