Day 13

       Turns out I'm a multi-millionaire (in Rupees)! This discovery was oddly comforting.

       Jim and I woke up, him to do his Buddhist meditation practice (which is a confusing ritual consisting of chanting, breathing, and playing with something very similar to rosary beads), and me to shower using a bucket of hot water.
       The bathrooms in India, like everything else, would be 10 times better with even 5 minutes of thought into their design, but the attitude in India is "just dump those rocks wherever," so instead of having a raised floor containing the shower area, the water just spills all over the bathroom and you have to use a squeegee to wipe it into the drain, every time you shower.
       Jim and I bought groceries then walked to the Dalai Lama's house:

      We also went into the Dalai Lama's temple. Jim insisted that we walk around it 3 times before going in, though he didn't explain why. I was open to whatever, so didn't really question this at the time. It's so fucking beautiful out here I want to pee.
       Going in that temple taught me that Buddhism is like all religions, an amalgam of all the old ones. They offer Chips Ahoy! to the deity statues as offerings in the Dalai Lama's temple. I can't take that shit seriously, it's just old traditions no understands anymore.
      To paraphrase Gandhi, I like your Buddha, I do not like your Buddhism.
      We ate at this wonderful tourist trap, Carpe Diem Cafe, which has the best view of any restaurant I've ever seen. While Jim was in the other room, I witnessed a real-life reenactment of Plato's Allegory of the Cave
      We discussed the idea of my moving to McLeodGanj and living off savings, which I could easily do for 10 years without working. I might, I dunno. I need the structure of work though, after a bit.
      I realized the only anxiety I've felt since I left the US was when I emailed my ex-girlfriend on Sunday. I told Jim I hadn't thought of suicide once since arriving. He asked if I often do. I said I go through periods. He said he does, too. I'd rather move here and pay $1000/year rent than marry some lady in the US out of fear. Maybe I'll be one of those Westerners, the old sexy hippies.
      We came back and sat on Jim's porch and I asked if he feels like a plantation owner. He said he thinks it must satisfy some genetic Southern urge of his.
      We ended the evening by singing "I See a Darkness" on his porch together. A truly beautiful moment.