I was up before 6 in Dirang on the morning of the 15th, which was sunny and clear. At 7:30 I caught a sumo coming from Bomdila and heading to Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh's northwest corner, close to the border with Tibet. In fact, it was to Tawang that the Dalai Lama initially fled when he escaped from Tibet in 1959. I had purchased a window seat in the sumo, but on arrival the sumo was full. They did manage to fit me in in the front seat with two others and the driver. At least I was next to the window. Unfortunately, the sumo had a thick opaque strip at the top of the windshield, for protection against sun, but hindering visibility. That was a shame, for the 85 mile trip northwest to Tawang is spectacular, crossing the Sela Pass at 13,500 feet.
From Dirang the sumo headed northwest, along the river. It crossed the river and followed another. The hillsides were covered with trees and the sun was out, with a few clouds at the tops of ridges. We passed army bases and stopped at about 6600 feet elevation for breakfast at a small place high above the river, with great views upriver.
As we left the river and zigzagged up towards the pass, we passed more army bases. The trees eventually began to thin out. Close to the pass the terrain was rocky with stunted trees, perhaps cedars. The sky had clouded up and at about 12,000 feet we were enveloped in fog. You could just barely see the mountainside through the fog. A small rockslide tumbled down, hitting our vehicle with the sound of gunshots. A couple of miles before the pass we began to see patches of snow.
We reached snow covered 13,500 foot Sela Pass, decorated with prayer flags, about 10:30. Just as we got there, the fog parted, revealing a blue lake with snow covered banks just beyond the pass. Snow-streaked peaks, wreathed in white clouds, stood behind the lake. I had to get the driver to stop at the lakeside so I could get out and enjoy the spot, though only for maybe ten minutes. The prayer flags at the very top of the pass, just behind us, appeared dim in the fog, while the lake and mountains in front of us were clear, with the clouds constantly shifting, revealing and obscuring the peaks. The air was cold, but not too bad, even though I was wearing only a windbreaker over my shirt.
We drove along the lake, past a berm at one end, and followed the stream flowing out of it down through a spectacular rocky canyon. We passed a memorial to an Indian soldier who is said to have single-handedly held off the invading Chinese for several days in 1962. In places the rock walls are almost vertical. At first only a few stunted evergreen trees were growing, but as we descended there were more and more, and they were taller. To the north a high ridge of jagged, snow-streaked peaks was visible.
More varieties of trees appeared as we zigzagged down towards a town and a river beyond the town. On the opposite side of the river we could see villages and fields clinging to the hillsides, with snowy peaks beyond and the river far below. We zigzagged down to the town, Jang, at about 8,000 feet, give or take 500 feet, reaching it about noon. We continued zigzagging down to small restaurant for a 20 minute lunch stop just before the river at about 6700 feet, arriving there about 12:30. The sun was out and the air warm. The countryside was very green. Across the river I could see some army trucks pulling big artillery pieces.
After the lunch stop (I enjoyed the scenery outside rather than eat), we crossed the river over a small bridge and climbed above the river, heading west. The river flows into Bhutan. Looking back, we could see an impressive waterfall near Jang. We passed more army camps and two towns before reaching Tawang about 2. My altimeter registered 9600 feet in the town center, though one of my guidebooks gives the elevation as about 10,000 feet. I checked into a fairly decent hotel for only 600 rupees (a little less than $10). From my hotel I could see Tawang Monastery, out of town a couple of miles on a ridge to the west. Established in 1681, it is supposed to be the second largest Buddhist monastery in the world.
The sun was out and I took a walk around town, passing a small gompa in the center and walking up along not very busy streets to the northern edge of town for the view from a ridge. Looking south, I could see the town just below and beyond it a green slope with many buildings, with the great gash of the river valley beyond. On the other side of the river valley rises a high ridge of snow covered peaks. The monastery is to the west, as was the setting sun. To the north is an army base on another ridge and beyond a high ridge of spectacular peaks, sharp edged and snow covered. I stood just below a mutli-storied copper statue of Buddha that was almost finished, covered with scaffolding.
I walked up the road that eventually reaches the border with Tibet up to another army base at about 10,000 feet, according to my altimeter, so about 400 feet above the town center, passing a couple of yaks, or maybe dzos, on the way. I walked back to the ridge with the giant Buddha statue and hung around until sunset, just before 5, and then walked back. I ate some delicious momos for dinner. By 7 just about all the shops were closed. I went to bed about 9:30, with the temperature in my room 61 degrees. I could hear lots of barking dogs.
The next morning I was up at 6. The temperature in my room was 57 degrees. The sun was out and I could see the Tawang Monastery and snowy peaks from my little balcony. About 6:30 I walked up to the giant Buddha. The majestic peaks to the north were free of clouds, as were the peaks to the south, across the deep river valley, but high thin clouds were approaching from the south. They eventually reached the sun, dimming it.
About 7:30 I started the hour or so walk to the big monastery, with great views of it on the way. I passed houses, shops, and at least one school. The road is mostly level and the sun was out most of the time. I passed some uniformed school children. Just before I reached the monastery, at its northwest end, I passed a derelict ropeway with an enclosed carriage attached leading to a hill to the north with an anigompa, or nunnery, on it. A patch of lawn with trees and prayer flags led to the main entrance gate. Instead of entering that gate, I walked on the road just below the walls of the monastery on its east side, facing the town of Tawang. The ridge slopes down comparatively gently on the monastery's eastern side, with a precipitous drop is on its western side. I stopped to watch some wood cutters using axes on a big pile of wood just below the walls. A little further I came across an old woman at a little shrine outside the walls wearing the distinctive old Monpa hat, looking like a hairy spider. The hat is black, flat, and looks like hair, with five or so "legs" only three or four inches long leading off it. These, I was told, are to channel rain away. These hats do look quite odd.
At the far end, the southern end, of the monastery, just outside a small entranceway, I came upon about 100 young monks in red robes all gathered together. They soon dispersed, perhaps to school or chores. I entered through that gate and wandered all around inside the walls. I walked up to the big main hall, originally built in 1681 and apparently rebuilt in 1997. I wandered around inside and outside, through the plaza in front and the little lanes below where the monks' quarters are. A big building just to the north of the main hall is where the young monks go to school. I visited a small museum across the plaza from the main hall, with interesting Tibetan Buddhist paraphernalia and great photos of the very young (23 years old) Dalai Lama after this arrival on horseback in 1959.
Eventually, I walked up to the roof of a building to the east of the main plaza, with great views. The yellow roofs of the residential quarters were just below me and a few monks were relaxing on the roofs in the sun. One young one was blowing bubbles, using a little plastic wand with a circular ring at the end and a little bottle of liquid, something you'd get in a variety store.
I walked out the entranceway I had come in and walked down the steep grassy slope to a big chorten, passing cows and an old man wearing one of those spider hats. I ate my breakfast of the cookies I had brought with me sitting on the grass. A few worshippers were circumambulating the chorten. The sky had clouded up and a few raindrops fell, with dark clouds coming from the west. I walked back up to the monastery and started back to Tawang about 3:30. I got rained on for most of the 45 minute walk back, though it never rained hard. There was some thunder. The rain stopped about 5:30 and I walked around town a bit, though it was wet and cold. I met two Australians, the first other tourists I met in Tawang. I had another momo dinner. When I walked back to my hotel after dinner there were no stars in the sky. My room temperature at bedtime, before 10, was 59 degrees, but a hot water bucket bath had helped warm me up.
I was up before 6 the next morning, another sunny morning. The temperature in my room was a chilly 55 degrees. I walked up to the ridge top at the northern edge of town for the great views and then onto the monastery. At the monastery I watched some painters at a new shrine outside the long eastern wall as they delicately painted figures in bright colors. I wandered up to the main hall, from which I heard music and chanting. Inside were 100 to 200 monks arrayed in rows, chanting and playing instruments at certain points in the chants. Among the instruments were five or six big drums and two of those long horns that telescopically fold into themselves. Two older monks sat at the front, one with cymbals. The chanting ended about 8:45, soon after I got there. The teenage monks with the long horns collapsed them, the chanting finished, and they all rushed out to the courtyard and beyond.
The courtyard had big patches of both cooked and uncooked rice drying in the sun. A man used a wooden rake to turn over the uncooked rice. Another man walked through with one of those spider hats. At 9 a young monk with a gong walked through the plaza heading to the residential area. Soon young monks were scurrying to the smaller courtyard in front of the big building just north of the main hall. About 200 of them gathered there in rows maybe 20 monks long and 10 monks deep, the teenage ones supervising all the younger ones. They did some chanting and singing before an elderly monk, leaning on a cane, spoke to them for 20 or 30 minutes. Most of the boy monks were fidgeting and not listening. Finally, the old monk finished and the young ones all piled into the building for their lessons.
I wandered around until about 11 and then started for the anigompa on the side of the hill to the north. The ropeway was out of operation so I walked. I wonder why the authorities felt they needed to build a ropeway. I took the road along the ridge leading from the north end of the monastery to a new road cut into the mountainside, with workers still working on it. A big pile of boulders almost blocked its far end. I passed road workers, including women sitting and using hammers to break up rocks into gravel. I noticed they wore sections of what I suppose was plastic pipe to protect their fingers, with just their fingertips sticking out.
Beyond the boulders at the end of the road was a path that led down to small stream crossed by three planks and then up from the stream to a path along the hill with the anigompa. I passed a few small rhododendron trees along with way. A few raindrops fell. I passed some concrete steps, perhaps leading up to the anigompa, but I wasn't sure, to I stuck to the path and walked under the ropeway along the cliff. Eventually I reached trees and beyond the trees a grassy ridge top with great views of Tawang Monastery above the precipitous drop to its west. Several yaks or dzos, or both, with red tassels on their ears,were grazing or just sitting on the grass. Nearby were a few shacks and a couple of friendly guys came along.
I could now see the anigompa again and climbed the grassy ridge and then through trees to reach the anigompa at about 10,500 feet. It comprised more than ten buildings, all with yellow roofs. I looked through the small main hall and met a couple of friendly nuns. A teenage cook, with a shaved head, invited me into the kitchen next door to the main hall and gave me a big cup of tea of delicious milk tea. The kitchen had an open fire and several wooden butter churns, among other items. On the walls were drawings of designs in white paint, with the words "Losar" (a Tibetan holiday), "Rose," and "C U Again" in the designs. The cook told me 45 nuns lived in the anigompa before she went off, talking on her cell phone. After finishing my tea, I walked around outside, but the clouds were getting dark, so I started back about 1:30.
I took the concrete stairs down to the path. I saw the road workers hurrying back from the boulders and they motioned me to go back. They all huddled in a recess in the cliff wall and I figured they might be dynamiting at the road end. I walked back a bit until I heard the boom and saw them returning. I didn't notice any difference when I got to where they were working. I did notice that one middle-aged woman carrying rocks in a basket to the women with hammers was wearing a sweatshirt with "Spunk" written on it, and I noticed a sweatshirt on a guy with "Oxford University" on it. I watched them all for a while, and they were friendly. Two pretty nuns came along, heading to the anigompa.
A little further on I sat for a while and ate some cookies, as the sun had come out again briefly. I walked back to Tawang , getting there about 4:30 and getting rained on for the last 15 minutes or so of the walk.
At dinner I sat with three young women of the Adi tribal group studying at the University of Itanagar in the state capital. They told me 55 students were in Tawang on a field trip studying oral traditions. The three of them were history students. The Adis, one of Arunachal Pradesh's 27 tribal groups, are originally from the Pasighat area in eastern Arunachal Pradesh. They told me that there was no written Adi language until recently, and that education at schools had begun only in the 1950's. One told me her grandmother liked the changes, but was worried about losing traditions and their Donyi-Polo religion. She was particularly talkative and told me how much she loved America, Justin Bieber, and Miley Cyrus. She liked that in America women could smoke and drink, and that it was very clean and without corruption. They were charming and very interesting to talk to.
I was up the next morning at 6:45. Rain was falling and it was very cold in my room, 54 degrees. I got up but wrapped myself in a blanket over my fleece and windbreaker. About 8 I went down to the kitchen in the hotel, with a wood stove, for a breakfast of an omelet, parotha, and tea. The rain stopped and I headed up to the ridge at the north end of town about 9. Massive clouds ranged in all directions, with the mountain peaks hidden. The sun did break through occasionally, and the sky was quite dramatic. The sky clouded up completely again and the wind was cold. Rain started again, and after only a half hour up on the ridge, I headed back. In the hotel I ordered tea and sat and read next to the stove in the kitchen until about 11:30.
The rain stopped and I again walked up to the ridge above town, with rain beginning again as I walked up. I watched the clouds for a while and then sheltered from the rain in the nearby Circuit House, a lodging place for visiting government officials. I was offered some tea and cookies and talked to young Monpa woman whose father worked at the Circuit House. She is studying botany in a university in Rajasthan and aiming for the ICS, the Indian Civil Service. She told me Monpas cannot understand the Tibetan language.
The rain stopped and I walked out again to the ridge for the views. There were only a few moments of sun before it clouded up again and I walked back, about 3. On the way, I met Nitin, whom I had first met in Cherrapungee and who had just arrived in Tawang. I went back to my hotel room, with a temperature of 55 degrees. I had dinner with Nitin. Rain was still falling as I walked back to my hotel at 7:30. I read next to the stove in the kitchen and then took a hot water bucket bath before going to bed. My room temperature was 54 degrees.
The sun was out and the sky was clear the next morning. I was up before 6. Nitin and I had planned to hire a sumo to take us north to see mountain peaks and lakes, but he then decided against it. I walked to the monastery, getting there about 7:30 and heading to the main hall, but there were no monks chanting. It was a Sunday, though I wouldn't think that would matter to Buddhists. I spent the day wandering around the monastery. In the morning I went up again to the rooftop next to the main plaza for the views. The sky was very clear, quite a contrast to the day before. A friendly monk gave me some yak butter tea, some sort of puffed rice, and a small carton of mango juice. I talked with an Indian tourist from Delhi and a man from Ladakh who has worked in Tawang for three years. He told me he could read but not understand spoken Monpa.
I walked down to the grassy area above the big chorten and walked all around the wide grassy area. Cows, dogs, and young monks in red robes playing cricket were enjoying the sunny afternoon. I enjoyed the great views over the river valley before walking back up to the monastery. Two older women were winnowing rice in the courtyard before the main hall. I watched them and took some photos. One poured me a cup of tea from her thermos, so I sat down on the pavement to drink it and watch them. I returned to the rooftop next to the courtyard for the views. A few monks were relaxing in the sun on the yellow rooftops below me, with some red robes and yellow undergarments drying on the rooftops in the sun.
I walked around some more. Some monks were doing chores. I saw one toting jugs of water. Some were playing cricket in an open space along the main hall leading from the main courtyard to the building to the north of the main hall. I met a couple of other tourists who had just arrived and walked back with them to town as the sky finally clouded up. The three of us plus Nitin had dinner together.
I was up about 6 the next morning and ate an early breakfast of an omelet, parotha, and tea. The sun was out and the four of us hired a sumo (4000 rupees, about $63) to take us sightseeing to the north, towards the border with Tibet. I was glad to finally find others to share the cost. We left at 7:20 as clouds began to gather early. We passed the army camps outside of town and drove up switchbacks into the higher mountains. Cedars grew everywhere.
We reached snow at about 12,000 feet, according to my altimeter, and soon the ground was covered in snow. About 8 we reached scenic Ptso Lake, at 12,700 feet and a little less than 10 miles from Tawang. We stopped to enjoy the views over the lake and snowy countryside, with jagged peaks looming over the river. I could see another army base, a small one, just up the road, and army trucks passed by as we were stopped. The sun was out but clouds were quickly forming. By the time we left the lake was fogged in.
A little further up the road, however, the sun reappeared. We passed about ten or fifteen artillery pieces set up and apparently ready to fire, with lots of soldiers around. The snow along the road looked about a foot deep. We drove past a road work crew of local people, mostly women, some with babies on their backs.
The sumo reached a junction with a sign saying we were 27 kilometers (17 miles) from Tawang. A sign indicated Bumla Pass, on the border with Tibet at 15,200 feet, was 13 kilometers (8 miles away). This is the pass used by the Dalai Lama to escape from the Chinese in 1959 and by the Chinese when they invaded India in 1962. We weren't allowed to go to the border and were planning to take the other fork in the road and head to Sangesar Lake 11 kilometers (7 miles away) away, but the snow was too deep on that road so we had to content ourselves with stopping at a small army base. A sign said it stood at 14,600 feet elevation, but my altimeter read 13,800.
We were there for quite a while. The sun was out and the views were great. Soldiers on a hill appeared to be sighting objects or locations in the distance. A lot of them were Sikhs, recognizable by their turbans and beards. We walked up a slight rise to an observation hut, with great views all around, particularly north, where a small flat valley was backed by snowy peaks. Clouds were closing in. We walked down to the canteen for momos and coffee. The soldiers were all very friendly.
We started back in a dense fog. Not until reaching about 12,000 feet did we emerge from it and get a view of Tawang about 2000 feet below. There was no sun. We reached Tawang about 12:30 and the four of us had a yak momo lunch. About 2 I walked up to the ridge at the northern edge of town and stayed there until after 5 enjoying the views. The sky was cloudy, but there was no wind. The clouds were dramatic and the sun did pop out for about five minutes sometime after 4. I had dinner with the three others plus a Punjabi guy from Bombay we met at the restaurant.
From Dirang the sumo headed northwest, along the river. It crossed the river and followed another. The hillsides were covered with trees and the sun was out, with a few clouds at the tops of ridges. We passed army bases and stopped at about 6600 feet elevation for breakfast at a small place high above the river, with great views upriver.
As we left the river and zigzagged up towards the pass, we passed more army bases. The trees eventually began to thin out. Close to the pass the terrain was rocky with stunted trees, perhaps cedars. The sky had clouded up and at about 12,000 feet we were enveloped in fog. You could just barely see the mountainside through the fog. A small rockslide tumbled down, hitting our vehicle with the sound of gunshots. A couple of miles before the pass we began to see patches of snow.
We reached snow covered 13,500 foot Sela Pass, decorated with prayer flags, about 10:30. Just as we got there, the fog parted, revealing a blue lake with snow covered banks just beyond the pass. Snow-streaked peaks, wreathed in white clouds, stood behind the lake. I had to get the driver to stop at the lakeside so I could get out and enjoy the spot, though only for maybe ten minutes. The prayer flags at the very top of the pass, just behind us, appeared dim in the fog, while the lake and mountains in front of us were clear, with the clouds constantly shifting, revealing and obscuring the peaks. The air was cold, but not too bad, even though I was wearing only a windbreaker over my shirt.
We drove along the lake, past a berm at one end, and followed the stream flowing out of it down through a spectacular rocky canyon. We passed a memorial to an Indian soldier who is said to have single-handedly held off the invading Chinese for several days in 1962. In places the rock walls are almost vertical. At first only a few stunted evergreen trees were growing, but as we descended there were more and more, and they were taller. To the north a high ridge of jagged, snow-streaked peaks was visible.
More varieties of trees appeared as we zigzagged down towards a town and a river beyond the town. On the opposite side of the river we could see villages and fields clinging to the hillsides, with snowy peaks beyond and the river far below. We zigzagged down to the town, Jang, at about 8,000 feet, give or take 500 feet, reaching it about noon. We continued zigzagging down to small restaurant for a 20 minute lunch stop just before the river at about 6700 feet, arriving there about 12:30. The sun was out and the air warm. The countryside was very green. Across the river I could see some army trucks pulling big artillery pieces.
After the lunch stop (I enjoyed the scenery outside rather than eat), we crossed the river over a small bridge and climbed above the river, heading west. The river flows into Bhutan. Looking back, we could see an impressive waterfall near Jang. We passed more army camps and two towns before reaching Tawang about 2. My altimeter registered 9600 feet in the town center, though one of my guidebooks gives the elevation as about 10,000 feet. I checked into a fairly decent hotel for only 600 rupees (a little less than $10). From my hotel I could see Tawang Monastery, out of town a couple of miles on a ridge to the west. Established in 1681, it is supposed to be the second largest Buddhist monastery in the world.
The sun was out and I took a walk around town, passing a small gompa in the center and walking up along not very busy streets to the northern edge of town for the view from a ridge. Looking south, I could see the town just below and beyond it a green slope with many buildings, with the great gash of the river valley beyond. On the other side of the river valley rises a high ridge of snow covered peaks. The monastery is to the west, as was the setting sun. To the north is an army base on another ridge and beyond a high ridge of spectacular peaks, sharp edged and snow covered. I stood just below a mutli-storied copper statue of Buddha that was almost finished, covered with scaffolding.
I walked up the road that eventually reaches the border with Tibet up to another army base at about 10,000 feet, according to my altimeter, so about 400 feet above the town center, passing a couple of yaks, or maybe dzos, on the way. I walked back to the ridge with the giant Buddha statue and hung around until sunset, just before 5, and then walked back. I ate some delicious momos for dinner. By 7 just about all the shops were closed. I went to bed about 9:30, with the temperature in my room 61 degrees. I could hear lots of barking dogs.
The next morning I was up at 6. The temperature in my room was 57 degrees. The sun was out and I could see the Tawang Monastery and snowy peaks from my little balcony. About 6:30 I walked up to the giant Buddha. The majestic peaks to the north were free of clouds, as were the peaks to the south, across the deep river valley, but high thin clouds were approaching from the south. They eventually reached the sun, dimming it.
About 7:30 I started the hour or so walk to the big monastery, with great views of it on the way. I passed houses, shops, and at least one school. The road is mostly level and the sun was out most of the time. I passed some uniformed school children. Just before I reached the monastery, at its northwest end, I passed a derelict ropeway with an enclosed carriage attached leading to a hill to the north with an anigompa, or nunnery, on it. A patch of lawn with trees and prayer flags led to the main entrance gate. Instead of entering that gate, I walked on the road just below the walls of the monastery on its east side, facing the town of Tawang. The ridge slopes down comparatively gently on the monastery's eastern side, with a precipitous drop is on its western side. I stopped to watch some wood cutters using axes on a big pile of wood just below the walls. A little further I came across an old woman at a little shrine outside the walls wearing the distinctive old Monpa hat, looking like a hairy spider. The hat is black, flat, and looks like hair, with five or so "legs" only three or four inches long leading off it. These, I was told, are to channel rain away. These hats do look quite odd.
At the far end, the southern end, of the monastery, just outside a small entranceway, I came upon about 100 young monks in red robes all gathered together. They soon dispersed, perhaps to school or chores. I entered through that gate and wandered all around inside the walls. I walked up to the big main hall, originally built in 1681 and apparently rebuilt in 1997. I wandered around inside and outside, through the plaza in front and the little lanes below where the monks' quarters are. A big building just to the north of the main hall is where the young monks go to school. I visited a small museum across the plaza from the main hall, with interesting Tibetan Buddhist paraphernalia and great photos of the very young (23 years old) Dalai Lama after this arrival on horseback in 1959.
Eventually, I walked up to the roof of a building to the east of the main plaza, with great views. The yellow roofs of the residential quarters were just below me and a few monks were relaxing on the roofs in the sun. One young one was blowing bubbles, using a little plastic wand with a circular ring at the end and a little bottle of liquid, something you'd get in a variety store.
I walked out the entranceway I had come in and walked down the steep grassy slope to a big chorten, passing cows and an old man wearing one of those spider hats. I ate my breakfast of the cookies I had brought with me sitting on the grass. A few worshippers were circumambulating the chorten. The sky had clouded up and a few raindrops fell, with dark clouds coming from the west. I walked back up to the monastery and started back to Tawang about 3:30. I got rained on for most of the 45 minute walk back, though it never rained hard. There was some thunder. The rain stopped about 5:30 and I walked around town a bit, though it was wet and cold. I met two Australians, the first other tourists I met in Tawang. I had another momo dinner. When I walked back to my hotel after dinner there were no stars in the sky. My room temperature at bedtime, before 10, was 59 degrees, but a hot water bucket bath had helped warm me up.
I was up before 6 the next morning, another sunny morning. The temperature in my room was a chilly 55 degrees. I walked up to the ridge top at the northern edge of town for the great views and then onto the monastery. At the monastery I watched some painters at a new shrine outside the long eastern wall as they delicately painted figures in bright colors. I wandered up to the main hall, from which I heard music and chanting. Inside were 100 to 200 monks arrayed in rows, chanting and playing instruments at certain points in the chants. Among the instruments were five or six big drums and two of those long horns that telescopically fold into themselves. Two older monks sat at the front, one with cymbals. The chanting ended about 8:45, soon after I got there. The teenage monks with the long horns collapsed them, the chanting finished, and they all rushed out to the courtyard and beyond.
The courtyard had big patches of both cooked and uncooked rice drying in the sun. A man used a wooden rake to turn over the uncooked rice. Another man walked through with one of those spider hats. At 9 a young monk with a gong walked through the plaza heading to the residential area. Soon young monks were scurrying to the smaller courtyard in front of the big building just north of the main hall. About 200 of them gathered there in rows maybe 20 monks long and 10 monks deep, the teenage ones supervising all the younger ones. They did some chanting and singing before an elderly monk, leaning on a cane, spoke to them for 20 or 30 minutes. Most of the boy monks were fidgeting and not listening. Finally, the old monk finished and the young ones all piled into the building for their lessons.
I wandered around until about 11 and then started for the anigompa on the side of the hill to the north. The ropeway was out of operation so I walked. I wonder why the authorities felt they needed to build a ropeway. I took the road along the ridge leading from the north end of the monastery to a new road cut into the mountainside, with workers still working on it. A big pile of boulders almost blocked its far end. I passed road workers, including women sitting and using hammers to break up rocks into gravel. I noticed they wore sections of what I suppose was plastic pipe to protect their fingers, with just their fingertips sticking out.
Beyond the boulders at the end of the road was a path that led down to small stream crossed by three planks and then up from the stream to a path along the hill with the anigompa. I passed a few small rhododendron trees along with way. A few raindrops fell. I passed some concrete steps, perhaps leading up to the anigompa, but I wasn't sure, to I stuck to the path and walked under the ropeway along the cliff. Eventually I reached trees and beyond the trees a grassy ridge top with great views of Tawang Monastery above the precipitous drop to its west. Several yaks or dzos, or both, with red tassels on their ears,were grazing or just sitting on the grass. Nearby were a few shacks and a couple of friendly guys came along.
I could now see the anigompa again and climbed the grassy ridge and then through trees to reach the anigompa at about 10,500 feet. It comprised more than ten buildings, all with yellow roofs. I looked through the small main hall and met a couple of friendly nuns. A teenage cook, with a shaved head, invited me into the kitchen next door to the main hall and gave me a big cup of tea of delicious milk tea. The kitchen had an open fire and several wooden butter churns, among other items. On the walls were drawings of designs in white paint, with the words "Losar" (a Tibetan holiday), "Rose," and "C U Again" in the designs. The cook told me 45 nuns lived in the anigompa before she went off, talking on her cell phone. After finishing my tea, I walked around outside, but the clouds were getting dark, so I started back about 1:30.
I took the concrete stairs down to the path. I saw the road workers hurrying back from the boulders and they motioned me to go back. They all huddled in a recess in the cliff wall and I figured they might be dynamiting at the road end. I walked back a bit until I heard the boom and saw them returning. I didn't notice any difference when I got to where they were working. I did notice that one middle-aged woman carrying rocks in a basket to the women with hammers was wearing a sweatshirt with "Spunk" written on it, and I noticed a sweatshirt on a guy with "Oxford University" on it. I watched them all for a while, and they were friendly. Two pretty nuns came along, heading to the anigompa.
A little further on I sat for a while and ate some cookies, as the sun had come out again briefly. I walked back to Tawang , getting there about 4:30 and getting rained on for the last 15 minutes or so of the walk.
At dinner I sat with three young women of the Adi tribal group studying at the University of Itanagar in the state capital. They told me 55 students were in Tawang on a field trip studying oral traditions. The three of them were history students. The Adis, one of Arunachal Pradesh's 27 tribal groups, are originally from the Pasighat area in eastern Arunachal Pradesh. They told me that there was no written Adi language until recently, and that education at schools had begun only in the 1950's. One told me her grandmother liked the changes, but was worried about losing traditions and their Donyi-Polo religion. She was particularly talkative and told me how much she loved America, Justin Bieber, and Miley Cyrus. She liked that in America women could smoke and drink, and that it was very clean and without corruption. They were charming and very interesting to talk to.
I was up the next morning at 6:45. Rain was falling and it was very cold in my room, 54 degrees. I got up but wrapped myself in a blanket over my fleece and windbreaker. About 8 I went down to the kitchen in the hotel, with a wood stove, for a breakfast of an omelet, parotha, and tea. The rain stopped and I headed up to the ridge at the north end of town about 9. Massive clouds ranged in all directions, with the mountain peaks hidden. The sun did break through occasionally, and the sky was quite dramatic. The sky clouded up completely again and the wind was cold. Rain started again, and after only a half hour up on the ridge, I headed back. In the hotel I ordered tea and sat and read next to the stove in the kitchen until about 11:30.
The rain stopped and I again walked up to the ridge above town, with rain beginning again as I walked up. I watched the clouds for a while and then sheltered from the rain in the nearby Circuit House, a lodging place for visiting government officials. I was offered some tea and cookies and talked to young Monpa woman whose father worked at the Circuit House. She is studying botany in a university in Rajasthan and aiming for the ICS, the Indian Civil Service. She told me Monpas cannot understand the Tibetan language.
The rain stopped and I walked out again to the ridge for the views. There were only a few moments of sun before it clouded up again and I walked back, about 3. On the way, I met Nitin, whom I had first met in Cherrapungee and who had just arrived in Tawang. I went back to my hotel room, with a temperature of 55 degrees. I had dinner with Nitin. Rain was still falling as I walked back to my hotel at 7:30. I read next to the stove in the kitchen and then took a hot water bucket bath before going to bed. My room temperature was 54 degrees.
The sun was out and the sky was clear the next morning. I was up before 6. Nitin and I had planned to hire a sumo to take us north to see mountain peaks and lakes, but he then decided against it. I walked to the monastery, getting there about 7:30 and heading to the main hall, but there were no monks chanting. It was a Sunday, though I wouldn't think that would matter to Buddhists. I spent the day wandering around the monastery. In the morning I went up again to the rooftop next to the main plaza for the views. The sky was very clear, quite a contrast to the day before. A friendly monk gave me some yak butter tea, some sort of puffed rice, and a small carton of mango juice. I talked with an Indian tourist from Delhi and a man from Ladakh who has worked in Tawang for three years. He told me he could read but not understand spoken Monpa.
I walked down to the grassy area above the big chorten and walked all around the wide grassy area. Cows, dogs, and young monks in red robes playing cricket were enjoying the sunny afternoon. I enjoyed the great views over the river valley before walking back up to the monastery. Two older women were winnowing rice in the courtyard before the main hall. I watched them and took some photos. One poured me a cup of tea from her thermos, so I sat down on the pavement to drink it and watch them. I returned to the rooftop next to the courtyard for the views. A few monks were relaxing in the sun on the yellow rooftops below me, with some red robes and yellow undergarments drying on the rooftops in the sun.
I walked around some more. Some monks were doing chores. I saw one toting jugs of water. Some were playing cricket in an open space along the main hall leading from the main courtyard to the building to the north of the main hall. I met a couple of other tourists who had just arrived and walked back with them to town as the sky finally clouded up. The three of us plus Nitin had dinner together.
I was up about 6 the next morning and ate an early breakfast of an omelet, parotha, and tea. The sun was out and the four of us hired a sumo (4000 rupees, about $63) to take us sightseeing to the north, towards the border with Tibet. I was glad to finally find others to share the cost. We left at 7:20 as clouds began to gather early. We passed the army camps outside of town and drove up switchbacks into the higher mountains. Cedars grew everywhere.
We reached snow at about 12,000 feet, according to my altimeter, and soon the ground was covered in snow. About 8 we reached scenic Ptso Lake, at 12,700 feet and a little less than 10 miles from Tawang. We stopped to enjoy the views over the lake and snowy countryside, with jagged peaks looming over the river. I could see another army base, a small one, just up the road, and army trucks passed by as we were stopped. The sun was out but clouds were quickly forming. By the time we left the lake was fogged in.
A little further up the road, however, the sun reappeared. We passed about ten or fifteen artillery pieces set up and apparently ready to fire, with lots of soldiers around. The snow along the road looked about a foot deep. We drove past a road work crew of local people, mostly women, some with babies on their backs.
The sumo reached a junction with a sign saying we were 27 kilometers (17 miles) from Tawang. A sign indicated Bumla Pass, on the border with Tibet at 15,200 feet, was 13 kilometers (8 miles away). This is the pass used by the Dalai Lama to escape from the Chinese in 1959 and by the Chinese when they invaded India in 1962. We weren't allowed to go to the border and were planning to take the other fork in the road and head to Sangesar Lake 11 kilometers (7 miles away) away, but the snow was too deep on that road so we had to content ourselves with stopping at a small army base. A sign said it stood at 14,600 feet elevation, but my altimeter read 13,800.
We were there for quite a while. The sun was out and the views were great. Soldiers on a hill appeared to be sighting objects or locations in the distance. A lot of them were Sikhs, recognizable by their turbans and beards. We walked up a slight rise to an observation hut, with great views all around, particularly north, where a small flat valley was backed by snowy peaks. Clouds were closing in. We walked down to the canteen for momos and coffee. The soldiers were all very friendly.
We started back in a dense fog. Not until reaching about 12,000 feet did we emerge from it and get a view of Tawang about 2000 feet below. There was no sun. We reached Tawang about 12:30 and the four of us had a yak momo lunch. About 2 I walked up to the ridge at the northern edge of town and stayed there until after 5 enjoying the views. The sky was cloudy, but there was no wind. The clouds were dramatic and the sun did pop out for about five minutes sometime after 4. I had dinner with the three others plus a Punjabi guy from Bombay we met at the restaurant.
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