I just came back from a 3-day vippasana meditation retreat. It was my first time doing anything like this. On Sunday I hopped on a local bus to a small village outside of Leh called Choglamsar. The Mahabodhi International Meditation Center is located in the middle of nowhere in a dry, barren deserted mountainous landscape. It’s a huge center, but everything is spread out with lots of empty land in between each building. The meditation building had a handful of private rooms, and one large dorm room full of beds. All the rooms faced a sweet garden of sunflowers and apple trees. There were about 25 people of all ages at the retreat. There were a lot of couples and a handful of single participants like myself. It was a silent retreat, meaning no speaking to each other at all for three days, no eye contact, no writing and no reading. This is meant to support practicing mindfulness at all times.
Our day started at 5am. We did a 45-minute gyro kinesis session (self massage) to wake up our muscles, and then we sat in meditation for another 45 minutes followed by breakfast. Then from 8am until 12 we alternated in 45-minute sessions of sitting mediation and walking mediation. I never did walking meditation. I figured it was little like walking normally. But the kind we practiced was walking about 10 steps very, very slowly and mindfully concentrating on all the movement in the body, especially the feet. At 12 we had lunch and a short break. Most people napped. But because I’m so used to being more active, I left the meditation complex and went frolicking and running around in the surrounding flat land. It felt like being in the Sahara, except it’s not sand but dust and gravel everywhere. At 1:30 we started again with an hour-long sitting meditation session, followed by an hour and half of yoga. Afterwards we alternated again between sitting and walking meditation until dinner. After dinner there was a hour long dharma talk, and we ended the day with another hour of sitting meditation. I was in bed and ready for sleep by 9:30p.
I’ve always wanted to try a meditation retreat. There are many 10-day courses around India, but 10 days is intense so when I heard about this 3-day course, I decided it was a good opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up. When I first arrived, I was so excited and thought, ‘Three days seems so short. I wish this were longer.’ And by mid-day on the first full day, I thought I might go crazy, or escape and try to catch the next bus to Leh. Although the complete silence was strange at times, I didn’t mind it too much. It was sitting for so long, all day, and just walking back and forth in the same space, all day, that my mind couldn’t be happy with. I found myself thinking about the most random things during meditation, and memories, or ideas would arise out of nowhere, without context or reason. I realize how untamed, anxious and restless my mind is. It was frustrating because I couldn’t turn it off when I wanted to.
The dharma talk we had after dinner each night was just an informal lecture about different dharma topics. The first night the instructors talked about the five hindrances to meditation practice and the second night was about 4 types of mindfulness. This was my favorite part. One of the instructors had a Conan O’Brien humorous charm that made his lectures really entertaining.
I stayed in the large dorm room. There was a large sheet draped across the middle of the room that divided it into separate men and women’s sides. The beds reminded me of the kind of beds that are in orphanages with creeky steel frames and thin hard mattresses. But I like it because it was cozy in its simplicity. The bathroom was in a nearby building. That too was very simple. A few squat toilet stalls, and cold water spickets for showers. It wasn’t the cleanest bathroom, but at least it wasn’t that smelly.
At meals it was so strange not to say anything to anyone, not even thank-you to the kitchen staff. There were many tables in the dining hall, but we all sat separately. I felt so lonely and dark. Everyone was so concentrated on eating mindfully and slowly. Sometimes it felt so serious. I realized that I’m so frequently outward dependant on my emotional state of mind. Seeing everyone so serious, at first, made me feel depressed and lonely. I guess I take things very personally, even when it has nothing to do with me. Or when the instructor made a joke during the talks, I looked around to see if other people also appreciated his humor because that makes me enjoy it more too. I don’t think this is neither good nor bad, but just something I observed about myself.
The best part of the day was the sunset. Right after dinner and before the talks, everyone would go onto the roof and just watch the sun retire into the horizon. The sunsets here are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life. The sky is so pure blue, and the way the rays stream through the clouds, it creates the most amazing, vivid displays of light.
By the third day I was so happy for the retreat to end. It was a powerful experience and one I’d like to do again, but I was ready to return to the chaos of life.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
I'm in the Himalayas!
The road to Leh is like the road to hell despite that it’s breathtakingly gorgeous. The travel conditions are terrible. The trip from Manali to Leh is usually done in 2 days, with an overnight camp or hotel stay in a small village along the way. We did it straight in 21 hours.
Twenty-one grueling hours of mostly unpaved, rocky mountain passes. The suspension on the minibus was virtually non-existent. And since there aren’t seat belts there were a lot of times when it was so bumpy I flew out of my seat and hit the roof of the car. The good thing is that the driver stopped when we had to pee, and we had a couple of opportunities to eat at roadside dhabas.
Poor Eva got extremely sick. She has a low blood pressure problem in general and is prone to fainting. She fainted and vomited so many times on the bus. The longer we were on the bus, the paler and paler she became. It got to the point where literally her face looked green and corpse-like. We all offered to switch seats with her, but she wouldn’t. She doesn’t like to burden other people so she stayed seat. She even took one of my Dramamine pills, but it didn’t help. Later we realized it wasn’t carsickness as much as it was altitude sickness.
Sitting in the very front also had its ‘perks’. Since the road is unpaved, other trucks or cars that passed us created huge dust and exhaust clouds that came into the car, even through the air vents. I blew my nose at one point and everything that came out was black. My face and all of my clothes were covered in dust and my hair was one step away from being dreadlocks. I was so exhausted. All I wanted was to sleep, even a little, but I couldn’t because the car ride was so bumpy the moment I put my head back it would slam back and forth against the headrest. It was like some medieval torture technique. Amazingly, the girl right behind me slept sitting straight up. We were meant to arrive in Leh by 5 or 6pm but the roads are at mercy to the elements and several of the bridges were barely there. There was one bridge that only the frame was left. All of us had to get out of the bus and walk across the narrow beams so the bus could be lighter when it crossed. I shot some video of that.
The climate in this part of India is extreme. In the day it gets up to 90+ degrees, and at night it can be as cold as 30 or 40 degrees. There were times I was scared the bus was going to get a flat tire or that it wouldn’t be able to handle the steep passes. . The road to Leh gets as high as 18,000 feet. And as the bus climbed higher and higher, I could feel the air get thinner and thinner to the point where it became really hard to breathe. By the middle of the trip everyone looked worn out.
In spite of all of these intense road conditions, the trip is equally as rewarding. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’m in the Himalayas!’ Never in my life did I think I could or would come to see the Himalayas. It was a shitty drive for sure, but when I woke up at 6:30am in the car with my head bumping against the seat, I woke up to an utterly amazing view of towering mountains lined with beautiful mountain streams, and dotted with wild flowers and plants, And the views only got more and more beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so vast or bare, or untouched. Just looking at it I could begin to sense the depth of age and history that belong to this mountain range. There are parts of it that remind me of the mountains in Utah on a much larger scale.
It’s amazing how far Leh is from the rest of India. There’s not much civilization in that part. We passed three villages, and by village, I mean a small roadside camp of tents that sell the basics like instant noodles, bottled water, and tea. It’s amazing how these people live. They come down from Leh during their summer season (July to September) and set up these camps to sell food to tourist and trekkers. They’re true nomads. They live in the harshest conditions. It was sunset when I ate there and the sun had just fallen behind the mountain casting a huge shadow on the camp. The temperature instantly dropped. It made me wonder what these people do during their winter.
And when the sun finally left us and the sky became pitch black, I saw the sky as I’ve never seen before in my life. We happened to be on the part that’s elevated nearly 18,000 ft when we stopped for a bathroom break alongside the road. The sky was a deep midnight blue and revealing every single star living inside it. It was such a gift to see.
We finally made it to Leh a little before midnight. Eva and I found a nearby guesthouse and crashed for the night.
We had finally, and actually made it to Leh.
Twenty-one grueling hours of mostly unpaved, rocky mountain passes. The suspension on the minibus was virtually non-existent. And since there aren’t seat belts there were a lot of times when it was so bumpy I flew out of my seat and hit the roof of the car. The good thing is that the driver stopped when we had to pee, and we had a couple of opportunities to eat at roadside dhabas.
Poor Eva got extremely sick. She has a low blood pressure problem in general and is prone to fainting. She fainted and vomited so many times on the bus. The longer we were on the bus, the paler and paler she became. It got to the point where literally her face looked green and corpse-like. We all offered to switch seats with her, but she wouldn’t. She doesn’t like to burden other people so she stayed seat. She even took one of my Dramamine pills, but it didn’t help. Later we realized it wasn’t carsickness as much as it was altitude sickness.
Sitting in the very front also had its ‘perks’. Since the road is unpaved, other trucks or cars that passed us created huge dust and exhaust clouds that came into the car, even through the air vents. I blew my nose at one point and everything that came out was black. My face and all of my clothes were covered in dust and my hair was one step away from being dreadlocks. I was so exhausted. All I wanted was to sleep, even a little, but I couldn’t because the car ride was so bumpy the moment I put my head back it would slam back and forth against the headrest. It was like some medieval torture technique. Amazingly, the girl right behind me slept sitting straight up. We were meant to arrive in Leh by 5 or 6pm but the roads are at mercy to the elements and several of the bridges were barely there. There was one bridge that only the frame was left. All of us had to get out of the bus and walk across the narrow beams so the bus could be lighter when it crossed. I shot some video of that.
The climate in this part of India is extreme. In the day it gets up to 90+ degrees, and at night it can be as cold as 30 or 40 degrees. There were times I was scared the bus was going to get a flat tire or that it wouldn’t be able to handle the steep passes. . The road to Leh gets as high as 18,000 feet. And as the bus climbed higher and higher, I could feel the air get thinner and thinner to the point where it became really hard to breathe. By the middle of the trip everyone looked worn out.
In spite of all of these intense road conditions, the trip is equally as rewarding. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’m in the Himalayas!’ Never in my life did I think I could or would come to see the Himalayas. It was a shitty drive for sure, but when I woke up at 6:30am in the car with my head bumping against the seat, I woke up to an utterly amazing view of towering mountains lined with beautiful mountain streams, and dotted with wild flowers and plants, And the views only got more and more beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so vast or bare, or untouched. Just looking at it I could begin to sense the depth of age and history that belong to this mountain range. There are parts of it that remind me of the mountains in Utah on a much larger scale.
It’s amazing how far Leh is from the rest of India. There’s not much civilization in that part. We passed three villages, and by village, I mean a small roadside camp of tents that sell the basics like instant noodles, bottled water, and tea. It’s amazing how these people live. They come down from Leh during their summer season (July to September) and set up these camps to sell food to tourist and trekkers. They’re true nomads. They live in the harshest conditions. It was sunset when I ate there and the sun had just fallen behind the mountain casting a huge shadow on the camp. The temperature instantly dropped. It made me wonder what these people do during their winter.
And when the sun finally left us and the sky became pitch black, I saw the sky as I’ve never seen before in my life. We happened to be on the part that’s elevated nearly 18,000 ft when we stopped for a bathroom break alongside the road. The sky was a deep midnight blue and revealing every single star living inside it. It was such a gift to see.
We finally made it to Leh a little before midnight. Eva and I found a nearby guesthouse and crashed for the night.
We had finally, and actually made it to Leh.
Monday, August 6, 2007
On the Road Again!
The past week and half was really good. I started traveling with a Flemish girl my age from Belgium named Eva. It’s so strange how well we get along like we’ve been friends for a long time. There’s something about traveling around with someone too that cuts right through the formality of getting to know someone, and instead you start right from the heart of being good friends.
We just arrived in Vashist, a small village-town outside of Manali. We caught 8:30p bus from Dharamsala and survived a 10-hour hell-prison-like bus ride. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the road was paved or even straight, but it was rocky and windy the whole time, or if the driver didn’t wake us up 3 times throughout the night for a ‘dinner break’ and ‘tea breaks’.
But we made it! and arrived in Manali at around 6am where we caught a rickshaw from the bus stand to Vashist. Autorickshaw are tiny and it barely fit me and Eva and our stuff. Eva had to sit up front with the driver. Had I known he was a filthy creep, I wouldn’t have been so polite. It was only after he dropped us off that Eva told me he was feeling up her leg the whole time. Ugh!!! That kind of thing happens a lot in India. It’s disgusting.
It was definitely time to leave Dharamsala. I was already feeling antsy about leaving Dharamsala, but after I met Eva I had the opportunity to travel with her. She’s on her way up to Leh, the highest livable place in India. From here, it’s a two-day bus ride with an overnight stay in tents along the way. Just before I left Dharamsala I got a bad sinus cold. The weather was terribly cold and damp. My feet were always wet. Even my blankets felt damp at night because it’s so humid there. I found out that Dharamsala is the second wettest place in India. In the morning it was foggy and rainy and since it’s up in the mountains the clouds that come down trap and carry bacteria and pollution.
There were some other omens that it was time to leave too, like
1) the giant monkey that broke into my room while I was inside and stole my bananas and then hissed at me and ate them one by one in front of my door leaving the peels there, and
2) my next-door neighbor, the delusional, tactless (she had good intentions though) Vietnamese nun that started to make me feel crazy with all of her talk of demons and ghosts possessing my massage therapist and the little Indian boy who cleans the toilet trying to poison her because she has magical powers, and
3) the creepy Tibetan guys that kept following and harassing me and Eva.
These kinds of things just screamed that it was time to move on. The energy there was stagnant and foul. So our arrival in Manali, despite the creepy richshaw driver was much welcomed.
The weather up here is extreme. It’s really cold in the night and morning, and hot and sunny by the afternoon. Leh is supposed to be even more extreme. Vashist is charming little village-town situated in a mountain valley along a rocky river. The mountains are gorgeous here and remind me a lot of the Rockies except with more rich-green trees. It’s nice and quiet because most of the backpackers and tourists stay on the other side of the valley in Old Manali. There is a natural hot springs just up the road from out guest house that the locals use as a public bath and near to it a small temple for Shiva. The local Indians come and do puja (offering) ceremonies in the mornings which scent the air with perfumed incense. There are several juice bars along the main road here. It's wonderful and whole room of every fruit you can imagine and they can blend whatever you want. Me and Eva went for a walk and there are apple trees everywhere full of beautiful ripe red and green apples. Another thing that this place is lush with, is marijuana --everywhere. It's a weed and grows like one amongst all the other flora. It's just a trip to see it so casually growing in field-like proportions.
We're headed to Leh in the next couple of days. It's going to take us 2 days to reach Leh, and the road to gets to 5400m high so altitude sickness is probable. But from what I hear, the landscape in Leh is like heaven on earth. It's so high, it's above the monsoon, so the weather should be nice and sunny. There's supposed to be terrible internet and phone service there. So I might be a bit out of touch, but I'll try my best to keep in touch.
All my love,
Lien
We just arrived in Vashist, a small village-town outside of Manali. We caught 8:30p bus from Dharamsala and survived a 10-hour hell-prison-like bus ride. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the road was paved or even straight, but it was rocky and windy the whole time, or if the driver didn’t wake us up 3 times throughout the night for a ‘dinner break’ and ‘tea breaks’.
But we made it! and arrived in Manali at around 6am where we caught a rickshaw from the bus stand to Vashist. Autorickshaw are tiny and it barely fit me and Eva and our stuff. Eva had to sit up front with the driver. Had I known he was a filthy creep, I wouldn’t have been so polite. It was only after he dropped us off that Eva told me he was feeling up her leg the whole time. Ugh!!! That kind of thing happens a lot in India. It’s disgusting.
It was definitely time to leave Dharamsala. I was already feeling antsy about leaving Dharamsala, but after I met Eva I had the opportunity to travel with her. She’s on her way up to Leh, the highest livable place in India. From here, it’s a two-day bus ride with an overnight stay in tents along the way. Just before I left Dharamsala I got a bad sinus cold. The weather was terribly cold and damp. My feet were always wet. Even my blankets felt damp at night because it’s so humid there. I found out that Dharamsala is the second wettest place in India. In the morning it was foggy and rainy and since it’s up in the mountains the clouds that come down trap and carry bacteria and pollution.
There were some other omens that it was time to leave too, like
1) the giant monkey that broke into my room while I was inside and stole my bananas and then hissed at me and ate them one by one in front of my door leaving the peels there, and
2) my next-door neighbor, the delusional, tactless (she had good intentions though) Vietnamese nun that started to make me feel crazy with all of her talk of demons and ghosts possessing my massage therapist and the little Indian boy who cleans the toilet trying to poison her because she has magical powers, and
3) the creepy Tibetan guys that kept following and harassing me and Eva.
These kinds of things just screamed that it was time to move on. The energy there was stagnant and foul. So our arrival in Manali, despite the creepy richshaw driver was much welcomed.
The weather up here is extreme. It’s really cold in the night and morning, and hot and sunny by the afternoon. Leh is supposed to be even more extreme. Vashist is charming little village-town situated in a mountain valley along a rocky river. The mountains are gorgeous here and remind me a lot of the Rockies except with more rich-green trees. It’s nice and quiet because most of the backpackers and tourists stay on the other side of the valley in Old Manali. There is a natural hot springs just up the road from out guest house that the locals use as a public bath and near to it a small temple for Shiva. The local Indians come and do puja (offering) ceremonies in the mornings which scent the air with perfumed incense. There are several juice bars along the main road here. It's wonderful and whole room of every fruit you can imagine and they can blend whatever you want. Me and Eva went for a walk and there are apple trees everywhere full of beautiful ripe red and green apples. Another thing that this place is lush with, is marijuana --everywhere. It's a weed and grows like one amongst all the other flora. It's just a trip to see it so casually growing in field-like proportions.
We're headed to Leh in the next couple of days. It's going to take us 2 days to reach Leh, and the road to gets to 5400m high so altitude sickness is probable. But from what I hear, the landscape in Leh is like heaven on earth. It's so high, it's above the monsoon, so the weather should be nice and sunny. There's supposed to be terrible internet and phone service there. So I might be a bit out of touch, but I'll try my best to keep in touch.
All my love,
Lien
Friday, July 27, 2007
Karma Karma Karma Karmeleon
No. 1: The other week when I went to HH’s teachings I met a sweet Australian couple, Rob and Jude. I spent the next week and a half hanging out with them. They took me to Tushita Meditation Retreat Center on the Turning of the Dharma Wheel day. I met a young couple from New Zealand, Jacqueline and Robin, during lunch there. I was looking for a place to stay in McLeod Ganj. Rob and Jude showed me their place because they were leaving. It’s not a guesthouse, but owned by a Tibetan lady for long-stay travelers. I really liked the room and ended up moving here. There aren’t a lot/any Vietnamese people here. It so happens that my next door neighbor is a Vietnamese nun. She lives in Houston now, and escaped from Vietnam the same year my family left. She loves to dance and sing. She’s 62 but doesn’t older than 50. I spent hours talking to her and getting acquainting. And by the end of our talk we were dancing Cha Cha Cha and the Twist!
No. 2: The other day, I was buying water in a convenience store. There was a man, in his forties, and his young daughter, in front of me paying for their stuff. The little girl was extremely cute. I told the man his daughter was beautiful. After I paid for my stuff and left I ran into them again in the street. We were walking in the same direction and got to chatting. He was an interesting man—half Spanish, half Italian, grew up in Switzerland, was a successful Deutsch Bank director, abandoned it all after his wife died in a car accident, became a Theravada Thai monk for 12 years, disrobed to go back to Switzerland to take care of his sick mother, met a Thai woman, had a baby, and after finding out she married him for money and was actually lesbian, has been raising his daughter alone ever since. Now he teaches in Buddhist universities in Thailand and other South East Asian countries.
These two people are completely opposite of each other in every way. I have a feeling that I’m going to learn a lot about Buddhism from both of them.
No. 2: The other day, I was buying water in a convenience store. There was a man, in his forties, and his young daughter, in front of me paying for their stuff. The little girl was extremely cute. I told the man his daughter was beautiful. After I paid for my stuff and left I ran into them again in the street. We were walking in the same direction and got to chatting. He was an interesting man—half Spanish, half Italian, grew up in Switzerland, was a successful Deutsch Bank director, abandoned it all after his wife died in a car accident, became a Theravada Thai monk for 12 years, disrobed to go back to Switzerland to take care of his sick mother, met a Thai woman, had a baby, and after finding out she married him for money and was actually lesbian, has been raising his daughter alone ever since. Now he teaches in Buddhist universities in Thailand and other South East Asian countries.
These two people are completely opposite of each other in every way. I have a feeling that I’m going to learn a lot about Buddhism from both of them.
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Three Jewels: Buddha, Dharma, Sangha
I’m not sure where I left off since I last posted, so I’m just gonna start with when I got back to Dharamsala. I think it’s only been about 10 or 11 days since I got back but it feels like I’ve done a lot since then. I remember wondering what it’d be like to be in community where spirituality and Buddhism were central values, and now I’m living in it every day, all day. Aside from the typical ups and downs and challenges of traveling, the past week has been great. HH gave teachings all week. They started at 8am and went until lunchtime. Thousands of people came from ALL over the world. I don’t have pictures of anything from this week because we weren’t allowed to bring cameras into the temple so I never had one with me. People pack in to the temple grounds. Every spot on the floor, ground or steps is a seat. The teachings were on the Boddhisatva’s Way of Life and the English translation was broadcast on an FM signal. My friends went up at 6:30a to secure good seats and even when I’d wander in late, they’d scoot over to fit me in. At the end of every teaching HH walked right past us bowing and waving ‘hello’. I got to see him several times week, at the end of every teaching, and during the Long Life Ceremony, which concluded the week of teachings. No matter how many times I’ve seen him though, his presence is still so undeniably moving. I can’t describe it in words. You can literally feel a powerful energy around him. During this week I also became connected with a handful of people through other friends who attended the teachings. There’s something about studying the Dharma and traveling that brings people together so fluidly so quickly. Everyone was in their twenties or early thirties and from everywhere – New Zealand, Israel, Boston, Ohio, Australia, Indonesia, England, Spain, and of course Tibet and India too. We ended up spending so much time together at the teachings and then having meals, it was like a little dharma family.
One thing I continually impressed by is how devout this community is. The foreigners who came to the teachings had to travel from afar to get here. And then arriving at 6:30 every morning where we sit on the ground until 11:30 or 12p and judiciously listen on a small FM radio to translations. And since it’s monsoon season, some days out of nowhere it would start raining/flooding from the sky, for hours. And the wind is blowing so hard the rain is shooting sideways. And the temple grounds would become filthy with mud or dirt tracked in, and people would still do their full prostrations on the ground. It was amazing.
Somehow I’ve been karmically swept up in this group of friends who have all been studying Tibetan Buddhism for the last 5-10 years so through them I met very special, realized high lamas and Rinpoches. Today I went with some friends to a private teaching with a special Rinpoche from Tibet. The whole rest of the day turned into a mini pilgrimage when we went to visit a several other Rinpoches and received blessings from them.
Being immersed in this world sometimes I wonder what my previous life was that I’m so blessed to be here and be able to not work for a year and run around India meeting very special individuals while studying Buddhism.
But it’s not all perfect and sweet all time. Traveling can be intense. There are times, despite having made good friends here, I feel really alone. Because when it comes down to it, I am alone. The end of last week and by the end of this week, all of the people I met will be gone. Some people are leaving because monsoon in Dharamsala is a total deluge, and for some it’s time to go home, and for others, they need to leave the country to renew their visas, but whatever the case, they’re leaving. It’s just like a testament to the true impermanence of everything. And then some days the starving children and lepers and other beggars can be intense, or all of the cow dung and human feces or trash and pollution, or incessant horn honking and dangerous drivers, or the variety of foul smells, or contaminated water or the fact that my clothes can’t dry properly because it’s too humid and smelly here or having chronic upset stomach can really get to me. But even that is impermanent, so it’s not soo bad.
One thing I continually impressed by is how devout this community is. The foreigners who came to the teachings had to travel from afar to get here. And then arriving at 6:30 every morning where we sit on the ground until 11:30 or 12p and judiciously listen on a small FM radio to translations. And since it’s monsoon season, some days out of nowhere it would start raining/flooding from the sky, for hours. And the wind is blowing so hard the rain is shooting sideways. And the temple grounds would become filthy with mud or dirt tracked in, and people would still do their full prostrations on the ground. It was amazing.
Somehow I’ve been karmically swept up in this group of friends who have all been studying Tibetan Buddhism for the last 5-10 years so through them I met very special, realized high lamas and Rinpoches. Today I went with some friends to a private teaching with a special Rinpoche from Tibet. The whole rest of the day turned into a mini pilgrimage when we went to visit a several other Rinpoches and received blessings from them.
Being immersed in this world sometimes I wonder what my previous life was that I’m so blessed to be here and be able to not work for a year and run around India meeting very special individuals while studying Buddhism.
But it’s not all perfect and sweet all time. Traveling can be intense. There are times, despite having made good friends here, I feel really alone. Because when it comes down to it, I am alone. The end of last week and by the end of this week, all of the people I met will be gone. Some people are leaving because monsoon in Dharamsala is a total deluge, and for some it’s time to go home, and for others, they need to leave the country to renew their visas, but whatever the case, they’re leaving. It’s just like a testament to the true impermanence of everything. And then some days the starving children and lepers and other beggars can be intense, or all of the cow dung and human feces or trash and pollution, or incessant horn honking and dangerous drivers, or the variety of foul smells, or contaminated water or the fact that my clothes can’t dry properly because it’s too humid and smelly here or having chronic upset stomach can really get to me. But even that is impermanent, so it’s not soo bad.
Monday, July 9, 2007
The Past is Always Present
More photos and entries from Bir
***********
(OLD SCHOOL ENTRY)
June 30, 2007 - Good Food Makes Everything Better
I managed to find my way into the kitchen scene here at Deer Park. I really love the food here, so I asked the kitchen staff if I could hang out and watch while they prepare meals. I’ve watched them cook several meals in my free time. This past Sunday the staff had a day off from cooking for the workshop people, so I showed them how to make a fried tofu in lemongrass and chili, banana bread, and oatmeal cookies.
The young guys that work in the kitchen are really funny, sweet and hard working. Chotu is the head cook, and he and his younger brother Dilep are from Bodhgaya, Bihar where the Buddha attained enlightenment. Bihar is the poorest state in India, and many cooks and laborers around northern India are from Bihar. Chotu has a delightful disposition. After spending some time in the kitchen I learned that Chotu is here working and earning money, and his wife, who is 5 months pregnant is in Bihar. She was just here and I asked him when he’ll see her again and he said maybe when the baby is a toddler. Then Chotu said proudly that he had a photo of his wife in his room. Chotu’s positive and happy demeanor amazes me. He’s the kind of person who is always smiling, and his smile evokes the kind of energy that makes you smile and feel happy inside too.
Arun, the second cook is from Nepal. He’s only 20 years old and left to come find work in India when he was in his early teens. He said he had to bribe the police on the trains so they wouldn’t beat him. Indian police aren’t paid well so many of them are corrupt.
Rejinder is also works in the kitchen, but not in a child labor sort of way. He just looks to cook, and he loves being with Chotu and Arun, who have become like his older brothers. Rejinder came from the nearby Indian village. His mother died and his father is an abusive alcoholic. Rejinder dropped out of school a couple of years ago. Prashant found him, and sent him back to school, but Rejinder failed out of school. He didn’t like the Indian school system and preferred to cook and bake with the other kitchen staff at Deer Park. Rejinder is extremely talented and bright. He has so much indigenous knowledge of the plants and trees in the area. He knows exactly how different plants or bark can be used to cure or treat illnesses, or used in cooking or teas. He also learns languages easily. He knows how to speak Tibetan, Hindi and English. And he knows how to bake different breads, and even how to make fresh cheese. He led us on the hike the other weekend off the trail, along the rocky river bank and he was hiking in sandals and was climbing up and down rocks like a monkey. It was amazing!
I’ve gotten so used to being here at Deer Park. I feel like this is becoming home. I almost forgot that I’m going back to Dharamasala next week. Some new professors arrived and some will be leaving mid-week. Ed, the astrophysicist invited me, Sangey, Eleanor, Hunter and Pema out to eat at City Heart. The food there is gorgeous. Everything is so tasty that it’s easy to overeat.
The other night Prashant invited me out to a birthday dinner for Pao, this Bhutanese guy. Aside from the workshop there are a handful of students studying Buddhism here and at their affiliate Buddhist school down the road. I’ll have to track down some photos, but it was a beautiful night. There were about 25 of us sitting around tables we had pushed together outside underneath the night sky and moon. After lighting Pao blew out his birthday candles, we passed around a lit candle to each person. It beautiful. As we sat out under the moon on a hillside overlooking the valleys of wheat and rice paddies, I looked down the table filled with glowing birthday candles, and realized their were 13 different countries represented at the table including the Bhutan, Spain, France, India, Tibet, Taiwan, USA, New Zealand, Australia, England, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
Having just come to India and meeting all these people who have been in India either because they live here, or have been traveling here for a long time, I felt a little anxious like I was the new person. One of the major teachings in Buddhism is the impermanence of all things. The only constant is change. I’ve been reading a lot about this. While I sat there in the company of all these wonderful people on a night so lovely I didn’t want it to end I truly realized that I the only way to live is in the moment and in the present, because everything that has past and everything yet to come is as faint as a dream.
***********
(OLD SCHOOL ENTRY)
June 30, 2007 - Good Food Makes Everything Better
I managed to find my way into the kitchen scene here at Deer Park. I really love the food here, so I asked the kitchen staff if I could hang out and watch while they prepare meals. I’ve watched them cook several meals in my free time. This past Sunday the staff had a day off from cooking for the workshop people, so I showed them how to make a fried tofu in lemongrass and chili, banana bread, and oatmeal cookies.
The young guys that work in the kitchen are really funny, sweet and hard working. Chotu is the head cook, and he and his younger brother Dilep are from Bodhgaya, Bihar where the Buddha attained enlightenment. Bihar is the poorest state in India, and many cooks and laborers around northern India are from Bihar. Chotu has a delightful disposition. After spending some time in the kitchen I learned that Chotu is here working and earning money, and his wife, who is 5 months pregnant is in Bihar. She was just here and I asked him when he’ll see her again and he said maybe when the baby is a toddler. Then Chotu said proudly that he had a photo of his wife in his room. Chotu’s positive and happy demeanor amazes me. He’s the kind of person who is always smiling, and his smile evokes the kind of energy that makes you smile and feel happy inside too.
Arun, the second cook is from Nepal. He’s only 20 years old and left to come find work in India when he was in his early teens. He said he had to bribe the police on the trains so they wouldn’t beat him. Indian police aren’t paid well so many of them are corrupt.
Rejinder is also works in the kitchen, but not in a child labor sort of way. He just looks to cook, and he loves being with Chotu and Arun, who have become like his older brothers. Rejinder came from the nearby Indian village. His mother died and his father is an abusive alcoholic. Rejinder dropped out of school a couple of years ago. Prashant found him, and sent him back to school, but Rejinder failed out of school. He didn’t like the Indian school system and preferred to cook and bake with the other kitchen staff at Deer Park. Rejinder is extremely talented and bright. He has so much indigenous knowledge of the plants and trees in the area. He knows exactly how different plants or bark can be used to cure or treat illnesses, or used in cooking or teas. He also learns languages easily. He knows how to speak Tibetan, Hindi and English. And he knows how to bake different breads, and even how to make fresh cheese. He led us on the hike the other weekend off the trail, along the rocky river bank and he was hiking in sandals and was climbing up and down rocks like a monkey. It was amazing!
I’ve gotten so used to being here at Deer Park. I feel like this is becoming home. I almost forgot that I’m going back to Dharamasala next week. Some new professors arrived and some will be leaving mid-week. Ed, the astrophysicist invited me, Sangey, Eleanor, Hunter and Pema out to eat at City Heart. The food there is gorgeous. Everything is so tasty that it’s easy to overeat.
The other night Prashant invited me out to a birthday dinner for Pao, this Bhutanese guy. Aside from the workshop there are a handful of students studying Buddhism here and at their affiliate Buddhist school down the road. I’ll have to track down some photos, but it was a beautiful night. There were about 25 of us sitting around tables we had pushed together outside underneath the night sky and moon. After lighting Pao blew out his birthday candles, we passed around a lit candle to each person. It beautiful. As we sat out under the moon on a hillside overlooking the valleys of wheat and rice paddies, I looked down the table filled with glowing birthday candles, and realized their were 13 different countries represented at the table including the Bhutan, Spain, France, India, Tibet, Taiwan, USA, New Zealand, Australia, England, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
Having just come to India and meeting all these people who have been in India either because they live here, or have been traveling here for a long time, I felt a little anxious like I was the new person. One of the major teachings in Buddhism is the impermanence of all things. The only constant is change. I’ve been reading a lot about this. While I sat there in the company of all these wonderful people on a night so lovely I didn’t want it to end I truly realized that I the only way to live is in the moment and in the present, because everything that has past and everything yet to come is as faint as a dream.
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