saga con'd.

So I had just fallen...and...well, I had to have help to get up.
It was the night after Dewali and it seems that my karma had caught up with me but who knows the workings of karma after all it's one of those mysterious things that even the Buddha said don't try to understand the workings of because you might go "mad".
It wasn't like I wasn't prepared for the "fall." I was paying attention. I was remembering last year the night after Dewali when I fell into a 4' deep concrete trench which fortunately for me had 1/2" of sludge in it which was probably why I wasn't more injured than bruised. It happened on my way home from picking up my passport from the Indian visa agency the day after Dewali...because the day before was Dewali...and when I got there they were closed which was why on the 2nd attempt I decided to ride my bike which was why it was dark when I got off the ferry because I missed the earlier one by 5 minutes which was why I was paying attention this year because I didn't want to have a repeat experience because what I took away from the first one was to pay attention to where I was walking in India in case of potholes, etc.
After all the treking around in Ladakh and Spiti and even walking on the "sidewalks" of Mcloud Ganj (which is a very noisy place, not peaceful like you'd expect the town that the Dalai Lama lives in to be), after all this hiking throughout the Himalayas, after all this, you wouldn't expect, I wouldn't expect to fall, simply going to my room after dinner on a little marlbe step.
And why you ask didn't I have my flashlight? Because I was being stubborn. I can tell you I didn't want to be bothered by a phone call I new I might get so I decided not to take my new phone with the flashlight attatched so conveniently with me.
I had come back to the Gonpa from the upper village where I was invited to stay with my friend Meenu and her family...I was there on Dewali and we lit candles and danced (at least I danced, Meenu still had a cast on). We ate sweet things. I had the thought, "I should be careful because I fell last year at this time." Her father the local priest was pretty insistent that I stay another night but I did really have to get back to my suitcase because not only did I need a change of clothes what I also needed was a tampon. So now here I was back in the main village of Rewalsar showered and clean and "stuffed" and being stubborn and somehow at the moment, the critical moment of going down a few little marble steps in the dark I missed my footing and everything went into slow motion but not slow enough for me to right myself and in the next moment it had happened. Searing pain in my foot. Pain that made me cry out. Later I would wonder that my friend Claire had sprained both her ankles at the Drukpa Kinley (the "mad/naughty monk of Bhutan") place and somehow I hadn't even noticed. How was it that I was such a baby! I mean compared to her. I was crying out, "OUCH, OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!" and no one was seeming to notice. But then a kind family who had been turning the gonpas prayer wheels came over and at the same time one of the local guys who sits at the gate everyday came and he had some personal experience with sprains and so they all helped me get to my room and the "guy w/ the personal experience" came to my humble room with a tub of warm water and rubbed my foot, "OUCH!" and rubbed some sort of tumeric mixture on it and wrapped it in some toilet paper before putting my sock back on (my foot was yellow for weeks). The sweet ladies from Lahaul who had helped me up to my room also checked to help me to the toilet before they retired for the night and then came to check the next morning. At least I could sort of slide my foot across the floor as I went to toilet....I remembered helping my friend in Bhutan and how trecherous a few few feet could be but I didn't have anybody to go buy me a plastic cup thingy...and though the ladies were nice, communication with all the folks who were trying to help me was minimal at best. Fortunately for me "the Blue Cave" restaurant was just around the other side of the building (I was on the 2nd floor) and I could call down to Nyma from the balcony to deliver me some lunch. After her initial suprise of being "called from above" she came with hot water and food and her cell number so I could order without leaving my bed. Which she generously did daily till I was able to hobble downstairs and across the street. As it turned out she was the best cook in Tso Pema (Rewalsar) and I miss her everyday since she went on pilgrimage to practice in Bodhgaya for the winter. Since she left it's Veg. Thukpa (noodles) everyday for me...that or momo's. Both of which are good...but I'll just say I'm starting to miss having my own kitchen.