and I waited patiently while Mr. Kadam engaged in an animated conversation with some local fishermen who seemed to be trying to sell him the catch of the day.
When we got back in the car, I asked, “Mr. Kadam, exactly how many languages do you know, anyway?”
“Hmm. I’m not really sure. I know the main ones needed for trade with Europe—Spanish, French, Portuguese, English, and German. I can converse well in most of the languages of Asia. I’m a bit weak on the languages of Russia and the Norse, know nothing of the islands or Africa, and I only know about half of the languages of India.”
Puzzled, I asked, “Half? Just how many languages are there in India?”
“There are literally hundreds of languages in India, both modern and classic. Though only around thirty are officially recognized by the Indian government.”
I stared at him in amazement.
“Of course, I only know a smattering of most of those. Many are local dialects that I picked up over the years. The most commonly used language is Hindi.”
We wound our way through two more mountain passes and finally began our descent toward the Tibetan plateau. Mr. Kadam talked in order to keep my mind busy during the drive down the mountain as I was feeling a bit carsick.
“The Tibetan Plateau is sometimes called the Roof of the World due to its high elevation. It averages around 4,500 meters, or roughly,” he worked out some calculations in his mind, “14,750 feet. It’s the third least populated place in the world, Antarctica being first and Northern Greenland being second. It’s home to several large brackish water lakes.”
I groaned and closed my eyes, but that didn’t help.
I tried to focus on something else and asked, “Mr. Kadam, what’s a brackish lake?”
“Ah, there are four classifications of salinity in bodies of water— fresh; brackish, or brack; saline, or salt; and brine. A brackish lake, for example, the Caspian Sea, is somewhere between saltwater and freshwater. Most brackish water is found in estuaries where a saltwater ocean meets a freshwater river or stream.”
Kishan growled softly, and Mr. Kadam stopped his lecture. “Look, Miss Kelsey. We’re almost at the bottom.”
He was right, and after a few minutes on a normal, flat, only somewhat bumpy road, I felt much better. We drove another couple of hours to the city of Lhasa.
15
Yin/Yang
Mr. Kadam had managed to secure a meeting with the Dalai Lama’s Tibetan office since a personal meeting was not possible. Mr. Kadam attempted to keep the reason for the visit vague so as not to reveal more details than were necessary with the staff. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Our appointment was set for Monday, which gave us three days to cool our heels.
To pass the time, Mr. Kadam took us on a whirlwind tour of Tibet. We saw the Rongphu Monastery, the Potala Palace, the Jokhang Temple, the Sera and Drepung monasteries, and also shopped at the Barkhor market.
I enjoyed seeing the tourist attractions and being with Kishan and Mr. Kadam, but underneath, I still felt an undercurrent of sorrow. The dull ache of loneliness swept over me in the evenings. I still dreamed of Ren every night. Although I trusted Durga to keep her promise and watch over him for me, I really wanted to be with him myself.
Mr. Kadam took us out of the city limits on Saturday to practice using our new weapons. He started with Kishan and the discus. The discus was heavy for Mr. Kadam, just like the gada had been, but seemed light to both me and Kishan.
When Mr. Kadam turned his attention to me, I was ready. He taught me how to string the bow first.
“The force you use to pull back the string is what determines the power of the bow. It’s called the draw weight.”
He tried to string my bow and found he couldn’t. Kishan was able to string it easily. Mr. Kadam stared at the bow for a minute and had Kishan take over teaching me.
I asked him, “Why are the arrows so small?”
Kishan replied, “Arrow length is determined by the size of the archer. It’s called a draw length, and yours is pretty small, so these arrows should fit you perfectly. The length of the bow is also determined by your height. An archer doesn’t want a bow that’s unwieldy.”
I nodded.
Kishan continued his explanation of the various workings of the bow and arrow, including the string notch, the arrow shelf where the arrow rests and