The Most Unlikely of Friends

Shortly after arriving in Dharamsala, I met Jane, a New Yorker and lay nun who has been living in India for the last few years. Jane wears robes, and has taken vows, but she is not a fully ordained nun. In fact, in her school of Tibetan Buddhism, there is no such thing as a fully ordained nun, meaning the full set of vows that are available for monks are not available to her as a woman. Being that she can marry if she wants. I call her a lay nun for lack of better words.

Jane is a character. A tiny middle aged woman who looks like a buddhist nun shaved head and all, but swears like a motherfucker and smokes (in secret). And she comes with a New York accent.

Being with her while she bargains for taxi and rickshaw rates is a little stressful and embarrassing. If a rickshaw or taxi wala quotes her a tourist price , she yells at them telling them to fuck off or to go fuck themselves. God forbid they try to survive in a third world country by quoting tourists a higher price. After all, that's what anyone remotely involved in the tourist industry does in India. That's India. Bargaining is the name of the game here and she's a good bargainer, so I'm a little perplexed why she gets so vulgarly bent out of shape time and time again about something that is so routine, a daily fact. Yea, they do try to take advantage of tourists and I wish she'd get over it, especially when she successfully bargains and gets the local price.

Her upper middle class upbringing and privilege were easy to peg. In Dharamsala she had her Tibetan housekeeper to do her dishes and laundry and her Indian driver whom she barked orders at probably very much like she did her colored servants growing up. And sure enough I learned that she had a governess and black cook as a child. The only person I haven't seen her treat like a subordinate is another white woman who also has money and very, very high Tibetan lamas - people with high social rank and status. She knows better than to pull that higher rank and subordinate shit with me. I won’t put up with it.

Two weeks or so after arriving in Dharamsala, I got my worst case yet of diarrhea. One of my older sisters had asked me previously in an email if I had lost weight in India. Well, with this case of diarrhea I can confidently say yes and being that this was my third bout, I've been able to keep the weight off.

Jane generously went to the chemist for me on her own accord and sent medicine up to me via her cab driver. Another thing about Jane is that she takes the liberty of sharing people's medical conditions with others. Upon meeting her friends for the first time, they already knew that I was recovering from a bad case of diarrhea and were expressing their sympathy.

Traveling, especially around the context of the dharma, has created the most unlikely friendships. Jane would never be my friend in the U.S. We come from different class and race backgrounds, and have different ways of being in foreign places. I prefer to learn as much of the local language before I travel somewhere and act in accordance to the local culture and customs. Jane expects people to adapt to her, a centrism that gives Americans bad reputations.

Jane is also one of the most generous people I know. When I was sick, there was no hesitation in her generosity and action in helping me get better. As someone who wants to plug into learning about Tibetan Buddhism and developing a practice, she has been an invaluable resource who is so willing to help me make connections. A wealth of information she is. Jane also exercises her generosity by financially sponsoring monks and monasteries and finding sponsors for monks.

Maybe it's the karma, the situation, or my own growth, but I'm learning to take the good with the bad, and more importantly to see beyond what is offensive (we'll see how long that can last with Jane though). And as a result, I've made a friend, even if only for this leg of my travels. Someone who is loyal to those whom she loves, and someone in the end who has a good heart.