Festivals have a unique ability to blur boundaries and unite people in a spirit of excitement and celebration. Monday was Dussehra, which celebrates the triumph of good over evil in the form of Lord Rama’s defeat of the demon king Ravana. I had the day off from volunteering, but I went to Khaniyara village anyway to have lunch with the women’s group. In celebration of the holiday, everyone gathered at the village temple to share a meal. The temple provided food at no cost, and the open invitation drew quite a crowd. Irrespective of social status, everyone came together and sat side-by-side to enjoy the meal.

When we arrived, we added our shoes to the growing pile at the edge of the temple grounds, then found a spot to sit on the mats that were spread in rows across the floor. The temple is outside, so there were fabric canopies to provide a bit of shade. When we sat down, someone gave us plates made of leaves sewn together with grass. Soon after, a man came around with a large basket of rice and used his hand to throw a serving onto each plate. Various dals and vegetable dishes were then ladled on top of the rice in quick succession as servers walked up and down the rows with pots of steaming food. I had a hard time keeping up with the pace of the seven-course meal. For dessert, we ate a small serving of sweet rice. As we rose from our places on the mats, another wave of people sat down to eat.

In the evening, I went with the other volunteers to a local Dussehra celebration in Dharamsala. The community gathered in a large, open field where there were huge, paper maché effigies of the evil king Ravana and his brother and son. Music blared on loud speakers as children ran around with fake swords and bows and arrows, pretending to be Rama and Ravana dueling. Fireworks were in abundance, even before the sun set. The field was very close to the Tibetan Children’s Village, and uniformed students were running around enjoying the show just as much as everyone else. When we first arrived, there were probably more Tibetans than Indians in attendance for the popular Hindu festival. At dark, costumed actors came onto the field with shimmering gold headdresses and painted faces to reenact the infamous battle between Rama and Ravana. When Rama’s forces won, the actors lit the paper effigies on fire to symbolize the final victory. The effigies were stuffed with firecrackers and created an impressive explosion, accompanied by the cheers of all in attendance.

Before Monday’s holiday excitement, I enjoyed a restful weekend in Dharamsala. On Saturday, I met the Tibetan woman who used to attend my morning language class at her flat in Mcleod. We shared some tea, and I learned about her family in Tibet and her life in India. Our conversation eventually shifted to the Tibetan class I’m taking, and I mentioned that the nun who teaches it is going out of town for a couple weeks to visit family. I was concerned about how well I could teach myself while she’s away. My friend said she was interested in getting some more practice with reading and writing the script, and she knew of a monk who might be willing to help us. She called him, and we met at a nearby coffee shop to discuss creating an informal class. He agreed to meet us three afternoons a week in Mcleod, so I’m going to try that for a while and see how it goes. Our first meeting was Wednesday, and it was a nice opportunity to practice reading and learn some useful conversational phrases. The monk is from Amdo province, so his pronunciation is a bit different than what I’m used to hearing, but his Tibetan is still understandable, and the script is the same.

I spent all of Saturday in Mcleod and enjoyed stopping in some local cafes and restaurants. I introduced myself to a Tibetan woman who runs one of the cafes and joined a game of dice she and some friends were playing. That evening, I went to Gu-Chu-Sum, the association of ex-political prisoners from Tibet, and conversed with a young man whose poetry about the Dalai Lama resulted in his imprisonment. He is now in India studying English and hoping for a future career in journalism. I find that when I talk to people at Gu-Chu-Sum about their lives in Tibet versus in India, I learn a lot about what kinds of questions I should be asking in regards to my project. Even when I’m not talking to lay women, I’m still gaining a much better understanding of the positive and negative aspects of the refugee situation. In some ways, the refugees have created an impressively authentic mini-Tibet in India, but in other ways, India is not and will never be Tibet.