Yesterday we began our ride from Mysore with a driver who spoke good English, but he traded out with another (who spoke no English whatsoever) when it became clear that we would be driving through the other's home town of Honsur. Manny and I entertained ourselves during the three hour trip, over very rough roads which were under construction most of the way; we occasionally attempted a question, but the results were invariably unsuccessful, and we sank into silence. We even missed a few of the stops we had planned with the earlier driver, able only to communicate "Kushalnagar"… so off we flew, the driver turning his music higher and higher, on a high-decibel beeline west into the Karnataka countryside.

We arrived in Kushalnagar, where we stopped to call our host, Tashi Wangdu, who is a relative of our friend Geshe Gendun, a monk from the local monastery who lives part-time in Newburyport, MA. We had communicated a few times, and he welcomed us to his home. But Tashi is the local Representative in charge of the Tibetan Settlements, and was stuck in Mysore with work. So off I went to a local telephone station to call his wife, Dolma.

Neither the driver nor the telephone caretaker spoke or read English, and it took some time before we managed to get through to Tashi, whose cell phone was busy. The directions he gave "Go to Office of Representative, New Camp TDL" made no sense to either the Mysore driver or the local telephone attendant. I wrote it down in English, which of course they couldn't sound out, and I could not even begin to guess the equivalent in Tamil script. I regretted yet again not travelling with a phrasebook — even the word "Busy!" would have saved some torture of non-communication — and had I even thought of Tamil before we left, perhaps it would have been in my pack.

We took off with our driver asking for Panch Camp (Fifth Camp), which was not where we were headed. At every place we stopped for directions, either Manny or I would get out of the car to say "NEW camp", and "Tashi Wangdu", until after 30 minutes and many stops, someone nodded at Tashi's name, and gestured up the hill… a small car passed by and gestured for us to follow. So at last we came to a settling point, and the most generous reception of this generous people, spending the evening with Dolma and Tenzin Tseylha, her 2-year-old daughter: treated to dinner, breakfast, tea.

This morning we have spent several hours with Sonam, Tashi's sister, who is a health aide in the local hospital. She took time away to guide us around the Monasteries here… and brought us to the internet, where she waits for us to finish our mail! Tomorrow Manny and I return, and I will spend more time with stories of these wonderful people.