It’s just another day in Dharamsala. For us, it’s departure day.
We say goodbye to the view from our porch, to the Archive and the monument just outside, the monastery, the temple and its unceasing crowds, Rabzay at the security gate, the stalls lining Temple Road, the café where we’ve had breakfast so many mornings. I try to imagine all the people in this world I have yet to meet and will someday say goodbye to. I start to notice the little details of this day—the really little ones—and find that they are all unexpected. I never considered the sunlight hitting the wall through the window in exactly this way, or the particular satisfaction from tightening the strap of my backpack for the long walk down the hill. It all worked out more or less.
We walk to Snow Lion to say goodbye.
Everyone is there and wants advice about a new camera. Just like old times.
Speaking of cameras, Bennett gives me his Canon S90, and I likewise offer my Fuji F10 to Chemey, with the promise that he send photos from time to time.
Lobsang gives each of us a bracelets. “So that each time you see this, you remember us here.”
We take the Monastery car and arrive at the airport around 2 PM. I have to remember to ask Bennett for the Go Pro footage he shot on the way down. The heat here suggests that Delhi will be unbearable. The final goodbye is a brief exchange of khatas and waves. Thank you Bennett-la, Dave-la. See you again soon. As Lobsang said last time: “There is no reason to be sad. Just stay in touch.”
We arrived at the Defence Colony an hour or so late. We will stay here until next midnight, when Bennett departs for the U.S. and I head to China to meet up with my friend Fausto.
Just before the monsoon starts, the heat in Delhi is astonishing. People dying in the streets every summer. We mostly stay indoors, take the last of our revolting medicine, and silently reflect on a trip over, but not yet over.