Momos - My Tibetan Love Affair

It feels very wrong to have discovered an addiction to momos, a Tibetan steamed snack of unmeasurable goodness, during a Tibetan hunger strike, but that’s exactly what happened to me in McLeod Ganjj. Dharmsala, or more specifically the small town of McLeod Ganjj, about 4 kilometres up a mountainside from Dharmsala, is the headquarters of the Tibetan government in exile and home to the Dalai Lama. We arrived in McLeod Ganjj right after violence erupted in Tibet over protests against the Olympics, so wandered through town on streets crowded with marching Tibetan protesters. Throughout town were strung banners of graphic photos of Tibetans tortured to death by the Chinese. And near the entrance to the HQ of the Tibetan government, a group of at least 50 protesters huddled under blankets conducting a peaceful hunger stike.

All of this made my experience in McLeod Ganjj all the more painfully superficial. We discovered an espresso bar and sat down to blissfully enjoy a cafe mocha and a divine toasted tuna sandwich. (I know it sounds like a vile combination, but it wasn’t.) We did tour Tibetan temples and Norbulingka, a cultural centre established by the Dalai Lama to preserve their culture, so it wasn’t totally pathetic. One thing that's fascinating about India is how multiple religions and cultures at least, to my ignorant eyes, seem to coexist quite peacefully. Because strolling along the same streets as the Tibetan protesters were drunk Indians in the middle of celebrating Holi, the Indian festival of colour, which marks the beginning of the hot season. Basically you run around throwing colours on friends and perfect strangers and douse them with water. Alcohol consumption enhances the experience, so we hunted down some Smirnoff Vodka and quickly became disturbingly buzzed. While we'd hoped to celebrate with the locals, given the celebration involved rubbing colour onto eachother's bodies, and the way anonymous Indian men tend to leer at us, it's probably best we had our own private party at the hotel. Craziness ensued – a week and a half later I can still find patches of colour on my skin, and let’s just say my bra is unlikely to return to it’s natural colour, ever.

A little bit too much Smirnoff and my dodgy ankle protesting combined to make an optional hike up a mountain the next day quite impossible, so Lisa and I shopped our way through town, bargaining badly. And basically at every opportunity, we ate momos. If you haven't had momos, well, I'm sad for you. They're basically a steamed dumpling stuffed with diced veggies, meat, cheese or some combination of the three. They're sometimes served with a hot spicy soup, chutney or even ketchup, and they are just simply gorgeous. I'm having a really tough time deciding which I like better - Indian naan bread or Tibetan momos.

The exciting thing is I think I may have found my calling. I'm going to acquire a tandoori oven for baking naan bread, and whatever equipment is required to steam a momo, and will open up an Indian Tibetan fusion restaurant in downtown Thedford. Perhaps I need a couple more items on the menu, but you're seeing genius at work here, kids. I think the locals will appreciate my efforts - though the chip wagon proprietor may get a bit nervous!