The King of Dharamsala Valley

Meeting the King of Dharamsala Valley

Have you ever met A real king!

Have you ever had a whiskey with a king! I have!

I thought it might be fun to tell you about my experience meeting and drinking whisky with the King of Dharmsala Valley in northern India.

I was invited to India to interview, or what the Tibetans call, having an audience with His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama for a documentary I produced on the politics of Tibet. I had been to China earlier in the year and had interviewed nearly 100 Chinese government officials on the subject, including the then head of the Tibetan Autonomous Region as China calls it today,

This story took place while I was in India, getting His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama and The Tibetan Government in Exiles view on the subject.

While in India we would interview nearly every authority involved in every aspect of Tibetan life in exile

In a months’ time, we had interviewed nearly 80 officials including the Prime Minister of the Tibetan Government in Exile, President Samdong Rinpoche, and His Holiness himself. I even interviewed the mysterious Oracle of Tibet.

We would do three interviews a day, for 24 days. Time flew by, it was really grueling, but I, nor my crew felt it at all. IT was just great to immerse ourselves in this unique culture in a faraway land.

We were working a one-month long stoke of adventure,

This story isn't about the documentary or the making of IT. This is a story about something that took place ad hoc, extra, something unexpected.

We stayed in a hotel near the home of His Holiness in McLeod Ganj. Located in the most populated province of India, known as Himachal Pradesh,

McLeod Ganj sits above the Dharmsala Valley, at around five thousand feet above sea level

In the mornings, I would go onto the roof of our hotel and photograph the sunrises. The sun would rise from behind the Himalayan mountain tops, its beams would shoot upward in a dramatic fashion. McLeod Ganj is located in the foothills of the Himalayans, with the great mountains rising up towards the Northeast, and the beautiful sun-washed Kanga valley and plains of India to the South. Dharmsala is a special place on earth. Enough about the scenery! All of India is beautiful.

Our schedule would be intense, every day up at 8 am and done 10 hours later

After work, we would land back at the hotel and figure out what to do for dinner, then afterward go exploring around the hilltop town.

There is a big tourist industry built around The Dalai Lama living in McLeod Ganj, but most of the businesses that feed off of his presence and his home being there out of Tibet, are run by people from Kashmir, they sell a lot of Tibetan things, mostly knock offs, there are a few Tibetan businesses but not like you'd think.

After dinner one night we happened upon a large tourist gift shop, run by Tibetans, it was pretty amazing, the things they had for sale, from silks to furniture, were simply beautiful.

We were just five guys wandering around, not big shoppers, on break looking more for a cold beer more than a stylish mala. As a traveler you will look behind any door, so we are in this wonderful gift shop. Browsing through some used notebooks. I hear someone say to me in clear European Danish English, “How do you like India?”

I look and there is a mature woman with dark black dyed hair, smiling at me, I smile back and say, I love it. She then responded, “It's a free country, completely free”

I said "yes, it is the kind of freedom that you'll never find anywhere else".

We continued to chat, she was a Danish researcher, doing some work with one of the monasteries.

I said so long.

Her name was Halina.

Not thinking we would meet again, I picked the most used of all the notebooks in the basket, made the purchase, I flipped through the first few pages and noted a few words, it looked like a diary, so I thought why not, it cost twenty cents.

The crew and I had dinner and a few drinks, we were exhausted as always, it was a good exhaustion. We would as with most nights be back at the hotel and be in bed by 11.

The next day we are scheduled to go to the Ganjchen Kanshong, the offices of the Tibetan government-in-exile AND the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives are located here.

We'd be spending the day there doing three interviews, one with the Prime Minister the Venerable Samdong Rinpoche, another with the now-retired director of the Tibetan Works and Archives the Most Venerable Achok Rinpoche shay and finally, the Nechung Oracle, Venerable. Tubtin Nordrup. These are some of the highest of high ranking Tibetan religious figures in the world. All on the same day!

While at the Ganjchen Kanshong, between these interviews, we had lunch just off the library, much to my surprise, we ran into Halina my Danish friend again. We spoke briefly and parted. She claimed to be doing research for a documentary also.

So, the interviews went beyond well, I can tell you something about Tibetan Buddhism, how it strengthens the mind, how it works, how the oracle or medium of Tibet functions, but that’s not what this story is about. This story is about a Hindu, the King of Dharamsala Valley.

It’s now Friday, thanks to some proficient planning on my part, who was now being referred to jokingly as Dr. Quest by my production team, we had scheduled weekends off.

This Dr. Quest thing was a much better nickname than the crew I used when shooting in China gave me, who seemed to want to call me Chairman Mao, they also like calling me Hu Su, meaning black beard. Camaraderie is a great thing when working and traveling,

These guys on both crews, I will always be indebted to.

It’s the weekend and everyone is thinking about finding some real beer and adventure in a faraway land. We were getting ready to go to dinner, now the food in India is really great, but getting 5 guys to agree on where to eat is always a problem in any country.

We are standing on the street in front of our hotel bickering about what restaurant to go to, it's a one-lane street, and a car pulls up and stops and the window rolls down, it's our Danish friend Halina again. She reaches out her hand with a card in it, and says, “here is my number, if you guys want to have some fun, call me tomorrow and I'll be happy to show you a good time."

Guys CAN BE funny, THE crew laughed, AND lurched back,

I said fine, thanked her, and took her phone number.

McLeod Ganj has about twenty thousand people living there year-round, a small town by India's standards, the main town area is around 3 square miles made up of shops and restaurants, with mostly tourists milling about.

We spent the off day just hanging around, talking with the locals, some of the crew tried and succeeded in scoring some hashish from a local Kashmiri rug vendor,

I visited the Nymgal monastery, they have a coffee shop there, hung out, met some tourist, talked to the locals, did some souvenir shopping, just taking it easy, we had 2 more weeks ahead, including our final week, which I had set aside for exploring as a reward for the crew, no work, Just Delhi and tourist sites around Dheradun.

It's Saturday night in McLeod Ganj, I figured, if a door opens, it's always better to walk through it. I decided to take Halina up on her offer.

I called her from the hotel lobby phone, she said to come to the bottom of the hill and she'd be waiting for my film crew and me at the end of the driveway located near Metzakahn the Tibetan medical school, and then she said, I'm going to quote her,

" It’s the driveway of The King of Dharamsala Valleys home".

Ok, now I had never before met a king, but thought, gee this is getting interesting. Halina went on to say that they would be attending a Himalayan festival in the valley and we would be guests of the King!

Its a Himalayan Festival you will enjoy

I then ran back upstairs to tell the guys I had talked to Halina, and we were going to a Himalayan Festival with the King of Dharmsala valley.

"Get dressed, and tell our driver Tapa Ji, he'll get some overtime pay". The crew had mixed emotions about it, it was strange because all they and I knew about Halina was her invite, "are you guys looking for a good time" and her exotic look, mature, attractive, and worldly,

The crew really had some apprehension.

On the end table next to my bed was the black book I had purchased earlier, I had planned on reading it, but because of the hustle I had fallen asleep.

For whatever reason I picked it up, and tucked it in my back pocket, thinking I could at least take some notes on this impromptu adventure.

We piled into Tapa Ji’s Montero, and headed down the hill from McLeod Ganj, sure enough as promised, Halina was standing at the end of the driveway. She climbed into the truck and told Tapa Ji to drive on.

It's dusk and the road is now perfectly paved, one of the only roads we would travel on that was without potholes and dust. It was the Kings driveway, to be sure.

I'm thinking, at the very least, this King, if he is really a King, will have not only cold beer, but ice too.

The driveway is a 2-mile road that winds through the jungle, there ahead perched on a small mound is a large palatial two-story home, made of poured concrete, surrounded by professional landscaping and landscape lighting, it was the Kings home.

India does some interesting and beautiful things with lighting its beautiful, when there is electrical service of course.

We get out of the truck, and walk towards the home, we enter into this perfect outdoor piazza. Halina invites us to have a seat. This home is a walled home, including the piazza, with poured concrete benches, tables, and low lighting radiating from every corner, it's warm and humid.

The Kings home, well, it’s a dark mysterious place, sitting in the middle of the jungle, I'm thinking maybe my crew’s apprehension was correct, maybe we've explored far enough.

Our driver, Tapa Ji, didn't come in, he stayed with the SUV but Dorje our monk production assistant, did.

We are all sitting in this wonderfully strange place in the middle of the jungle, and then as if in a scene from the movie Apocalypse Now, out of the homes great doors comes a large man in traditional Indian white attire, he strolls over to us, and Halina says, “Gentlemen allow me to introduce the King of Dharmsala Valley.”

As the leader of our group, I stand up and he reaches his hand out to shake hands, I think to myself, ok, so maybe he is not so kingly, and he says, in a somewhat deep and mumbly voice, "welcome to my home, so you're the American film crew, thank you for coming"

I look at him and say "thank you for having us".

This is the first and only King I've ever met, I'm kind of beside myself, my crew is sitting there, with some kind of look between shock and fear on their faces, then in a Brandoesque tone the King says

"Beer, whiskey beer, whiskey?"

He said it twice, really fast and mumbly. I said "that would be fantastic' I hear, our sound recordist, Todd, in the background say

“It sure would".

So here we are sitting with the King of Dharmsala Valley in the middle of the jungle making small talk. I find out, in a very a matter of fact way, that his wife is the head of India's National Health Administration, equal to AMERICAS surgeon general, and Halina, who has been in India for 30 years, is his mistress. The king in a very Kingly way stated these facts as nonplussed as anyone about anything, from one man to another.

Having a mistress is a manly kingly kind of thing I suppose. The King, and he knew the trick to being King is to be focused, manly, and at all times nonplussed.

It’s an impressive thing to be a King.

Our conversation turned to our experiences and what we had been doing I for some reason to make conversation pulled out the little worn black book I had purchased two days earlier for conversation, I said, “I think it’s someone diary, but I can’t read it.”

I handed it to the king to look at, he opened it and look strangely up and me after reading the first few lines, and sighed deeply.

After having a few drinks at the king’s home, it would be time to part for the Himalayan festival in the valley, we would be guests of the King and his mistress.

We piled into the SUV, and Halina got in the truck with us, the king had his own driver, and a white car, a model known as an ambassador. We would drive deeper into the jungle, thru winding roads,

It happens in India, every evening in the jungle, a fragrant flower opens, it's called night queen.

It has a very sweet smell. This heavy sweet scent is wafting through our car, so strong was the smell, I asked Halina what it was. She said “night queen”

After about fifteen minutes, driving on very dark roads in the forest, we pull up to what is a decent size hotel, the interior light is radiating from the rooms on all floors, the lobby lighting is glowing into the dark jungle, our headlights cut deep into the darkness, the building is some sort of resort. Tapa Ji parks the truck, Halina says wait in the car. It was the Club Mahindra Kangra Valley Resort.

I'm watching her as she goes to the Kings car, he gets out, they turn and walk rapidly into the hotel.

The resort has some kind of event going on, its buzzing with people, all well dressed, the King and Halina disappear inside.

From the passenger’s seat in the Montero, I'm looking at the building, and I see through the hotels second floor windows the King entering into this large room, the people in the room are part of the event taking place there.

Then in less than a minute from the Kings entrance, people start to flood out of the place, hurriedly, piling into their cars, all these white government cars of India that you see in movies.

One by one they leave the parking lot, the lead car with a blue police light flashing on the dash. Tapa Ji cuts into the motorcade at about the halfway point, following the cars and the king in his at the front of the line. All these white cars and us in our ragged maroon s u v

We travel another seven or so miles at high speed, through the jungle, finally arriving at an outdoor stadium, there are people everywhere, we are still moving very fast, too fast for conditions, we arrive at the gate to this outdoor stadium, parking is to the right, I'm thinking we are not going to find a parking space.

Instead of going into the lot to park, there is an arched entrance going into the stadium, with a red carpet on the ground going through it, people walking into the stadium. We and the Kings motorcade turn left onto the red carpet, people are literally diving out of the way of the cars, we drive into the stadium, there is seating on the field in front of the stage, not just any seating, but theater seating for VIPs, our cars all pull up and we get out.

The monk Dorje is seated next to me, and then the crew. All the people at the festival seemed to look at the King as he and we arrived. We are center front row with the King and other dignitaries

There were about 30 thousand people in attendance, all brown people, we are the only Caucasians except for Halina. Around the perimeter of the field are booths set up with games and food, it's no different than a festival or county fair in America, it's a public get together, with families, teenagers, police on guard, music, dancing, all very nice. And lots of home- style Indian cooking.

About halfway through the program, Halina hands me a glass of whiskey, public consumption of alcohol is frowned upon in India, I take the glass, and I hear the monk Dorje whisper in a low voice,

"Don't drink it”, now that’s strange and interesting that he would say that.

I smell it and take a sip, it's whiskey. I hand the glass to the crew member, without hesitation, he drinks it all.

It's about an hour into the show and I decide I want some video, I have only my 3-chip handy cam, portable, so I get up and walk around the stadium, it was wonderful to mix it up with the locals, no English spoken by the folk, particularly at this folk festival, but you don't need language to communicate joy, everyone was happy, a loving joyous community.

There was great food everywhere, it would surely make me sick if I ate it.

Throughout the journey, we would always joke as Dorje and Tapa Ji our guide and driver would warn us constantly about eating things, by saying,

"No, that will kill you! "

They, not wanting us Americans to get what is known as Delhi Belly.

I returned back to my seat, and Halina says to me, "the king and his friends are going backstage to have drinks, you should join them.”

This was an invite from the king for me only, I looked at the crew and said I’ll be back shortly.

I followed the king backstage and there were 8 men, all in classic Hindu white garb. I’m in a T-shirt and hiker pants, we made our introductions. The King found me to be a novelty, introducing me with excitement to his friends.

We drank more whisky, and then the King did something that caught me off guard.

He reached under his robe and pulled out the small black notebook I had asked him to read earlier that evening. He had said it was a diary and had put it in his pocket. At the time I thought he felt he would get back to me. I had actually assumed it wasn’t anything to anyone and he just took it.

He then looked at the men standing around us and said “My American friend has given me a most wonderous gift” I looked at them with must have been quite a daft look on my face. He went on to say, “this is my mother’s journal, she passed when I was a child of 5”

If you have never heard seven men gasp at once, it unforgettable.

I had no idea. The King smiled and said, “you are a lucky man and I more so, I wish to pay you for the diary.” I laughed and said, “no such thing, I paid 20 cents for it at the Tibetan gift shop, you’ve been so gracious and we have had a wonderful time.” “It is yours to keep”

He then said, this is a gift from his mother, and turned to his assistant and said Raj, get me the gift for the American” Raj turned and trotted off towards the carpark.

Raj returned, winded, with an ornate gold box and immediately handed it to me. I thought it was really cool and figured I’d put it on my dresser at home to hold tie tacks and watches, it would be a nice desk butler.

Raj looked at me and said, “open it”

I lifted the lid and there was a bundle of rupees. I looked up and Raj said “it’s one thousand American for the diary, one thousand for every penny you spent” 20,000 dollars!

I want to drop an f-bomb and tell him, no, but this custom is apparently very important, and you don’t turn down a gift or reward from a King, I didn’t know this beforehand, but by the looks in these men’s eyes, I got the point. I thank him and invited him to my home in America, he then said “Let's bounce” I laughed as did his entourage, and we headed back to our seats.

We watched the rest of the music and dance on the stage, I with my gold butler in my lap, looking around in a dizzying state of mind, it wasn’t the whisky, the events had shaken me to the core.

I looked at Halina and I looked at the King, and I said “thank you for having us, it’s been a wonderful evening, we should be leaving.”

The king stood up and gave me a bear hug, and whispered in my ear in his deep voice “thank you for coming to my home.”

He was the unofficial King, recognized as the descendant of the oldest line of kings in India, kings are still important in India, this fact I did not know, they still have local influence and wealth.

When I asked Dorje about this "King" status, he said that in his province of Laduk they have a queen, and this "royalty" can be traced back thousands of years.

The moral of this story, be bold, every step takes courage and never not trust your instincts, even in faraway lands, there are no such things as strangers, only love.