McCleod Ganj

we are in the little mountain village of mccleod ganj. i love it here--it is the closest you can get to leaving india without actually leaving india. i think i've really had it with india. it's all very beautiful and amazing and intense--no doubt, and there are many places that we've been to that i am so grateful to have seen and experienced, but there's also this part of me that wants to say--forgive the vulgarity--"fuck 'cultural relevance'--fuck hindu culture and its twisted caste system and violent attitude towards women". this is, (of course) all excepting the devout--rishikesh, for instance, as well as pushkar, (both holy pilgrimage centers), seemed to embody a gentler more compassionate nature than delhi, jaipur, or varanasi--so i am speaking to the dogma and the manner in which the religion it plays itself out in the culture--there is so much deep seeded and seething misogyny in the culture--it makes me want to cry, and i have. it is hard to convey the deep relief that i feel upon our arrival here. it is so lush and green and mountainous. we are in the clouds. it reminds me so much of colorado. this is where his holiness the dalai lama lives in exile--along with a great number of tibetan refugees. the buddhist influence is palpable... there are prayer flags waving in the wind, monks in the streets, smiles abound, and the pervasive india shit smell is gone. i feel like the buddhists really have something right. every other religion i've ever come into contact with seems to be--on many levels--judging, dictating, and marginalizing--but the buddhist monks all seem to be just smiling, meditating, and waiting for the rest of the world to come to its senses. i am in accordance.