In case anyone is wondering, Ani Tenzin Palmo is one of the coolest people on the planet. She’s a British nun who spent 27 years in a cave and then came out and opened a nunnery where she is presently educating 50-some nuns and is trying to re-establish this yogini lineage.
The minute we entered the room we felt we were in a great presence.I was one of the last people in the lineup, so I squeezed into the back after offering my khata. Ani-la has very large, wide-open eyes that seem to pierce right through you and smile into your deepest core while the lines on her face make her expressions severe. She sat in a rocking chair with her office filled to the brink with us. We talked about emptiness, the nunnery, her experiences on retreat, the importance of including children in the dharma, scientific studies about the effects of meditation on one’s happiness level, and many other interesting subjects. She told us that she found it interesting that we humans spend so much time and energy making the spaces we live in nice; it seems that we understand that our environment has an affect on us. But we don’t live in our houses, she said. And we live in our body for a time but not forever. It is our mind where we really live, and yet we fill it continually with junk! She noted that she was shocked at the level of junk-consumption that she has observed when visiting the West to give lectures. It was like junk food for the brain! Not just the over-sexualized and exceedingly violent images that are prevalent, but also the cheap and senseless material that people somehow seemed to know was a heap of garbage and yet continued to consume regularly anyway! Our minds are our homes, she said, and who we are and how we act depends so much on what we fill them with. That’s why meditation is so beneficial in the long-term for our happiness levels; why science has observed that meditation seems to be the only thing that raises our base-line happiness level and keeps it there: it’s like cleaning our minds and making the space nice to live in. It’s not about becoming a Buddhist, she said; it’s just about clearing our minds.
She blew us away for a couple of hours and then we toured her nunnery. What a gorgeous place!Nestled in the lush, green fields that surround Bir, a short bumpy jeep ride away from Sherab Ling Monastery—where we had set up camp for the weekend in the guest house—the place was astounding. Everyone was cleaning for Losar, getting down and scrubbing all the nitty gritty nooks and crannies around the property, and they all looked so happy! I told the people walking near me “I don’t think I’ve ever seen people cleaning look happier.” There is a building just for people on retreat that has an open court-yard supposedly where they can go outdoors and see the stars but not be seen themselves. There’s about four nuns on retreat presently. A lot of it is still under construction as well, and she’s in the process of raising funds with her lectures and awesome books—among them a personal story called "A Cave in the Snow" and a dharma book called "Reflections on a Mountain Lake."
The rest of the weekend was similarly amazing, though none of it really compared to meeting her. We went to the home where the remains of a much realized yogi was being preserved in a shrine room. Some of us sat in there and meditated for a while, and man I was blissed out! Incredible energy. There were also pictures of the rinzel that had appeared in his ashes in the form of tiny little perfectly shaped conch shells. This was the man that was going to give the empowerments to the women who wanted to take the path of the yogi-ma lineage, for he was the only one that Ani Tenzin Palmo knew of that had the empowerment himself. The rest of the yogi-ma (the female yoginis) are gone or wandering in the mountains of Tibet making themselves quite scarce. Now that he’s passed they don’t know how thye’re going to go about getting the empowerments for these women, but they’re working on it.
Days passed with many monastery visits and me sneaking away to sit in on the puja more than once. I continue to have really blissful meditation sessions here, probably because I’m in such power spots and also because I’m swimming in a constant pool of philosophy readings and lectures. It’s great, though I’m trying to not get attached to the super ecstatic feeling. One of the mornings my friend Lauren and I woke up early to go to the puja for a few hours and then take a walk. Every time we went to puja we were served tea or soup or whatever they were having at the time. The monks who were serving would come around to us sitting in the back on our little rug and give us paper cups and serve us from the big buckets that they’d brought around to all of the monks and nuns. People glanced over at us often and sometimes giggled, but it felt like it was out of curiosity and not scorn. At one point during a dinner puja I saw one monk holding out this bag of Indian hot-sauce to a monk in the row behind him. The second monk looked at it and gave his friend a disapproving look like “really?” but eventually he took it. The monks passed it around adding it to their soup and looking sheepishly giddy. They looked at us to see if we’d noticed and I smiled but tried to act like I hadn’t. After a while a few of the monks were nudging each other and pointing to the back corner. I looked and saw this big monk who was one of the two playing the gigantic horns holding up a bag of chili next to his face and grinning proudly. It was hilarious. But anyway, that morning we had some sweet tea and then went on a walk before breakfast. We went to this ridge that had countless prayer flags stretching on and on. It was gorgeous. Then we circumambulated the 7 white stupas that are all lined up down the road. Walking there past a few old grinning monks and a Tibetan girl walking with her dogs while the sun was rising, I felt like I’d entered heaven. I know I’m not walking through Shangri-La; I know there are problems here just like there are anywhere, but in that moment inside of myself I was completely at peace.
We decided to stay an extra day at Sherab Ling so we could go and see the Cham dance last Monday. Picture a huge courtyard filled with dancers in super colorful attire and tantric masks on and big swords, dancing around a mandala altar with gigantic statues of tantric deities against one wall and two stories of lay and monastic onlookers sitting on the ground and standing on the balconies. Chanting, horns, symbols, and drums accompanied the dance in a monotonous, scary-sounding rhythm, and at one point a Lama slayed a large demon-cake with bug eyes and an erection to symbolize overcoming desire. I’m no Cham scholar, so my understanding of the whole deal was limited, but it was definitely a sight.
We took the jeeps into town and stopped to see a gorgeous Hindu shrine on our way out of town where they were having some big festival. Lots of people were dressed in their best waiting in line for hours to see the Shiva Lingam that’s the main sight in the temple, and there we were in our four-day-old clothes all sweaty from the jeep ride. A few of us wandered off to get cold drinks and snacks, and once back in the jeeps we feasted on oranges and Indian sweets (which are always a little too sweet) and exchanged iPods.
Well yesterday was our one day of classes for this week, because today is the first day of LOSAR! Losar la Tashi Delek, everyone! It’s the Tibetan New Year! We had a group meeting last night to decompress after our adventures in Sherab Ling, and then ran off to bed because this morning there was 6:30 puja. This year’s Losar is not really going to be celebrated. In protest after last March’s atrocities in Tibet, many people are honoring those who were mistreated and killed by not celebrating. There’s also a hunger strike in McLeod. This is happening both in Tibet and in exile. Losar usually includes lots of parties, but this year it’s only the religious parts—the puja and the prayer-flag hanging, etc., so we all trundled down early in our Chupas to the temple. The first day of Losar is usually spent indoors with family. We’ll visit with our teachers and classmates in the dorms and try not to run into any inauspicious circumstances. In my and Emily’s case, though, we’re going to McLeod for a few hours to wrap up some loose ends before our trip tomorrow. We’re going to Riwaltzar (sp?) for Losar—this beautiful lake near Padma Sumbawa’s cave. Ledgend has it the lake formed when someone tried to light him on fire. I’m sure I’ll get a better run down of that story when I go there. Anyway, Chunnit and Bhuti are already there for Losar weekend, and so Emily and I are leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow to meet them. It’s about a 7 hour bus ride, and then we’ll have a long weekend of a last shebang with our roomies before our last week at Sarah. We’re all feeling pretty sad about leaving—getting back to campus after Sherab Ling felt so good, we realized that this campus has really become a second home to us. The home stays are just around the corner, though, so we’ll just have to tough it up and head on to the (hopefully) next good thing.
Signing off. Sending love. Happy Losar!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
"My inflated sense of self is extremely gratified by doing my laundry in a bucket"
Friday was intense. We went to McLeod and talked with Ama Adhe--an amazing woman who spent 27 years as a political prisoner in Tibet. She endured greusome torture and terrible conditions but lived to tell the tale. At one point she was in a prison camp where they literally were fed maez powder sprinkled in water 3 times a day for food. 300 women went into the camp. 4 came back out. She was one of them, and this she attributes to the fact that she prayed to Tara every day. She prayed even though they tied her to the ceiling and beat her and made her kneel on sharpened pieces of wood and told her if she cooperated they'd let her go back to her 3 year old son and infant daughter. She knew they were lying (and when she got out she found out that indeed, what they'd told her for years was rubbish) so she prayed and refused to give them the names they wanted of people who were involved with the resistance. She swore if she survived she'd go to the Dalai Lama and tell him everything. And even though when she was released (during the "soft period" in the 80s) her children told her "Ama, you have had nothing to eat for years but the leather from your own shoes--now you do nothing but sit and eat and pray and we will provide for you," she knew she couldn't stay. She escaped to India and kept her promise. The Dalai Lama listened to her whole story and told her not the hate the Chinese because most of them were following orders. He told her to spend her time now educating people. Though she's illiterate she's had a biography written which is published in 11 languages, including Chinese. She has also traveled to 10 countries to speak about what she's seen and lived through. Intense.
We went from there to go and have dinner and a movie with our roommates--a weekly ritual. Seeing as we'd had some pretty depressing movies in the past, this week we saw "Planet Earth," the desert portion. They were definitely impressed. When the part on Arizona came up I told Chunnit that I drove through that desert between school and home. It was kinda crazy sitting in the Himalayas and remembering that drive, not so long ago.
I was told that Valentine's day is pretty much not a thing in India. As an American, though, I got wished happy Valentine's day last Saturday probably more times than I ever have been at home. People here are fascinated by the taboo topic of a day of affection. Everyone was asking us if we celebrated it. And you know, even though I wasn't with any kind of sweetie, I had a pretty epic day.
We trundled down to a late 8:30 breakfast on Saturday (yeah, that's sleeping in here) and found little valentines on our places. Cynthia, our program director and probably one of the happiest, most positive people I've ever met, had stayed up into the wee hours of the night making overly sparkly cards for us. Adorable. After a breakfast of porridge, toast, and hard-boiled eggs, I went back to my room to wrangle up the troops for our valentine's day mission. Chunnit, Bhuti, Emily and I had decided to head to Kangra Fort.
We started out on a journey to Gaggle--the little town nearest our rural campus--me with my backpack strapped on carrying our essentials. On the way a cab driver asked us if we'd like a ride for 10 rupees, so we took that offer. Gaggle's a bustling bundle of intersections, little shops, advertisements, and fruit stands. We wove through crowds of cows, shoppers, beggars and stray dogs and caught a bus. We crammed into the front--Chunnit and I squeezed into open seats at the front while Bhutti and Emily sat on the platform next to the driver. We bumped and swayed our way to Kangra with the two of them holding our seats for support with every turn and laughing when they started to tip over. Every few minutes a whistle blew to announce someone's wanting to exit. It's funny to me how personal space feels different here. There was a guy practically sitting on my back for part of the ride, but I didn't really notice until I saw someone looking strangely our way. It's funny how fast you get used to that stuff. My roomie Chunnit stood up so a woman with a baby could sit in her seat. Cutest baby EVER.
From Kangra we haggled with a corner full of rickshaw drivers for a few minutes until one of them agreed to take us to Kangra Fort for 70 rupees. We took pictures and videos along the way and everyone tried on my big "American" sunglasses. Emily said she liked rickshaws better than taxis and I agreed--it's easier to see the countryside slide past when it's open air and not windows dividing you.
At Kangra Fort a sign read "Local admission: 5 rupees. Foreign admission: 100 rupees." It's only $2 but WOW. Kinda crazy. I managed to pay for everyone at that stop. The 4 of us are always wrestling with each other to try to pay or wash our tea cups or lunch bowls. My victory at that moment was minimal seeing as I was only really paying 10 rupees for our local friends. We walked up the road to a little shop and bought chips and mango juice while Chunnit joked in Hindi with the shop owner.
Kangra Fort's pretty epic. We climbed stairs stairs stairs, and I felt like we were in the Lord of the Rings. It's a really old fort that survived an earthquake and is still being restored. We sat on a cliff at the top and watched specks in a line of mules being led across the river and the huge birds flying next to and below us. The green on the other side of the river was stunning and the sun was HOT! I couldn't believe it was February. I showed Chunnit that youtube version of "Umbrella" on my iPod and told her it's our song. (For those unfarmiliar with the lyrics, the chorus goes "When the sun shines we shine together. Told you I'll be here forever. That I'll always be your friend--took an oath and Ima stick it out 'till the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we still have each other. You can stand under my umbrella. You can stand under my umbrella). She didn't really catch the words so I wrote them down for her. She said "A-le!" (An addictive Tibetan phrase roughly equivalent to "I see!") Then Emily and I busted out the fancy American chocolates that we'd splurged on for the occasion. (I forget what they're called--those awesome little chocolate balls with all the layers that are wrapped in gold foil...sweetness!)
A few hours of picture-taking, sun-basking, and laughing and we headed back down. We stopped in Gaggle for Chai and I was once again amazed at Chunnit's charisma. She knew so many people passing on the streets, and she joked knowingly with the Chai shop owner, who makes GREAT treats too, we found out. She stopped and got some green beans and red carrots for a friend of hers who had asked her to pick them up as a favor, and Emily and I got oranges for our rooms. (Oranges are the only "safe" fruits for us to eat since we can peel them ourselves and therefore don't risk eating stuff washed in local water. Pretty silly but supposedly pretty necessary).
Back at Sarah finally I treated myself to a hot bucket shower and did some laundry. Dinner was at 5:30 and then Chunnit whipped out her volleyball. We played (or tried) for a while. She's an all-star, I swear--her skinny little self flies across the court in her maroon robes and little black shoes. Some other students and a hand full of kids joined our game, during which we spent just as much time chasing the stray ball as we did actually hitting it. Then the ball actually flew into the drain. It's a big open pit that's easy to see the bottom of, and Emily and I offered to jump down and get it. Unfortunately the sun had just gone down and some bats were flying in and out of it. They all said "careful, they''ll bite your EARS!" Man, I don't know if they were kidding, but we backed off from that hole PRETTY quick. We decided to brave the hole the next day when we had sticks and zero bat-problems. Then the basketball came out! Even though it was dark and the court had no light, me and Chunnit played well into the evening. We didn't make many baskets, and when we did we usually couldn't tell since we couldn't see a damn thing and the hoop has no net--but we didn't care. It was a blast. We got some Chai in the canteen by the court with a friend of hers who lives downstairs. (p.s. the Chai here is served in the smallest cups imaginable, so having 5 cups of Chai a day isn't quite like it would be in America. a cup = like 4 gulps) Her friend's a sweet heart and speaks great English; she had actually partnered with me earlier in a Tibetan class when we were being taught commands like "sit down," "stand up," and "put your hands in the air." Now she drilled me about Valentine's day in America. I told her my Valentine was dressed for the occasion and put my arms around my red-robed roomie, which they thought was hilarious.
I worked the rest of the weekend on my own rendition of the "wheel of life"--a creative project for our philosophy class. I decided to depict the 6 realms within the relationships that women have with their bodies (hungry ghosts as women with eating disorders, animals as those struggling to eat at all, humans as athletes--the potential to do so much good and so much harm to their bodies, etc.) It took me forever because I'm creatively a perfectionist. I had fun, though, and I'll present it tomorrow with performance poetry and a hell of a poaster collage.
So yesterday we met with Palden Gyatso. He's a 78 year old monk who was born in Tibet and because he happened upon the uprising in 59 got sent to a Chinese prison. And because he refused under interrogation to "confess" that Tibet has always been a part of China, he remained a political prisoner for 33 years. 33 YEARS! Like Ama Adhe, since escaping into exile he has made his mission educating the world about what happened inside of Tibet in the prisons--the story that China still doesn't tell. He went to a huge concert in San Fran, for example, and told everyone about the treatment he endured. He brought cattle prods and other things that the Chinese had used to torture him and other prisoners. These things are brutal--one shock and you're out cold usually. They used to bury men alive when they went unconscious if they were trying to get rid of prisoners to make the food spread around more. One day when he was affirming Tibet's independence under interrogation, they said "you want independence? We'll give you independence." They took him to the other room and put the cattle prod in his mouth. When he woke up all of his top teeth were falling out and his tongue was burnt. He took out his false teeth and showed us the scars on his tongue while he told us this. Our translator couldn't contain his tears. He also told us that though it wasn't proper for a monk like him to talk about such things, since it was an important fact he felt obligated to inform us that they also used these cattle prods in women's vaginas. Nun's vaginas. Nuns don't even use tampons. That bit really fucked me up.
He said that he doesn't hate the Chinese because he understands that most of them were working under fear of being punished by the government. Ama Adhe had told us that the Dalai Lama had instructed her not to hate the Chinese but that she hated the government nonetheless. This man, though--though he claimed like the Dalai Lama to be a simple monk who was mediocre in the practice of compassion and wisdom--genuinely expressed his love and compassion for the Chinese. He said that he thinks it's really important for us to go to Tibet if we can because foreigners visiting puts pressure on the Chinese government to make reforms in their treatment of Tibetans. He also advised us that many of the cheap goods that are made in China are made by Tibetan prisoners who stay up all night in order to complete their impossibly numerous tasks so as not to be punished. I asked him if there were any arenas within Tibetan studies that presently need more attention since we are all going to be choosing research topics soon. He suggested the Dalai Lama's plans for autonomy, the recent cases of brutality inflicted upon Tibetans, and a few other interesting topics.
More than anything, this man's presence was most striking. He had a face so worn that you could picture his skull beneath the deeply-creased skin, but his expressions were so jolly and his bloodshot eyes were filled with so much light that you couldn't help but smile when looking at him. He kind of glows. His little apartment has pictures of the Dalai Lama, one of him & Richard Gere and one Tanka on the plain white walls. It's itty bitty and we all sat on top of each other on the seats and the floor in order to fit. He said that he bought the place with the help of foreigners like us, so we were welcome any time. When we go, he said, we should think of it as going to our own home. He blessed our khatas and the malas that some of him presented us with and we took our leave.
Not your average Monday night.
We're going for a field trip on Thursday and I'm sure I'll have plenty to write after that. Stay well and be grateful--every breath is a miracle.
We went from there to go and have dinner and a movie with our roommates--a weekly ritual. Seeing as we'd had some pretty depressing movies in the past, this week we saw "Planet Earth," the desert portion. They were definitely impressed. When the part on Arizona came up I told Chunnit that I drove through that desert between school and home. It was kinda crazy sitting in the Himalayas and remembering that drive, not so long ago.
I was told that Valentine's day is pretty much not a thing in India. As an American, though, I got wished happy Valentine's day last Saturday probably more times than I ever have been at home. People here are fascinated by the taboo topic of a day of affection. Everyone was asking us if we celebrated it. And you know, even though I wasn't with any kind of sweetie, I had a pretty epic day.
We trundled down to a late 8:30 breakfast on Saturday (yeah, that's sleeping in here) and found little valentines on our places. Cynthia, our program director and probably one of the happiest, most positive people I've ever met, had stayed up into the wee hours of the night making overly sparkly cards for us. Adorable. After a breakfast of porridge, toast, and hard-boiled eggs, I went back to my room to wrangle up the troops for our valentine's day mission. Chunnit, Bhuti, Emily and I had decided to head to Kangra Fort.
We started out on a journey to Gaggle--the little town nearest our rural campus--me with my backpack strapped on carrying our essentials. On the way a cab driver asked us if we'd like a ride for 10 rupees, so we took that offer. Gaggle's a bustling bundle of intersections, little shops, advertisements, and fruit stands. We wove through crowds of cows, shoppers, beggars and stray dogs and caught a bus. We crammed into the front--Chunnit and I squeezed into open seats at the front while Bhutti and Emily sat on the platform next to the driver. We bumped and swayed our way to Kangra with the two of them holding our seats for support with every turn and laughing when they started to tip over. Every few minutes a whistle blew to announce someone's wanting to exit. It's funny to me how personal space feels different here. There was a guy practically sitting on my back for part of the ride, but I didn't really notice until I saw someone looking strangely our way. It's funny how fast you get used to that stuff. My roomie Chunnit stood up so a woman with a baby could sit in her seat. Cutest baby EVER.
From Kangra we haggled with a corner full of rickshaw drivers for a few minutes until one of them agreed to take us to Kangra Fort for 70 rupees. We took pictures and videos along the way and everyone tried on my big "American" sunglasses. Emily said she liked rickshaws better than taxis and I agreed--it's easier to see the countryside slide past when it's open air and not windows dividing you.
At Kangra Fort a sign read "Local admission: 5 rupees. Foreign admission: 100 rupees." It's only $2 but WOW. Kinda crazy. I managed to pay for everyone at that stop. The 4 of us are always wrestling with each other to try to pay or wash our tea cups or lunch bowls. My victory at that moment was minimal seeing as I was only really paying 10 rupees for our local friends. We walked up the road to a little shop and bought chips and mango juice while Chunnit joked in Hindi with the shop owner.
Kangra Fort's pretty epic. We climbed stairs stairs stairs, and I felt like we were in the Lord of the Rings. It's a really old fort that survived an earthquake and is still being restored. We sat on a cliff at the top and watched specks in a line of mules being led across the river and the huge birds flying next to and below us. The green on the other side of the river was stunning and the sun was HOT! I couldn't believe it was February. I showed Chunnit that youtube version of "Umbrella" on my iPod and told her it's our song. (For those unfarmiliar with the lyrics, the chorus goes "When the sun shines we shine together. Told you I'll be here forever. That I'll always be your friend--took an oath and Ima stick it out 'till the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we still have each other. You can stand under my umbrella. You can stand under my umbrella). She didn't really catch the words so I wrote them down for her. She said "A-le!" (An addictive Tibetan phrase roughly equivalent to "I see!") Then Emily and I busted out the fancy American chocolates that we'd splurged on for the occasion. (I forget what they're called--those awesome little chocolate balls with all the layers that are wrapped in gold foil...sweetness!)
A few hours of picture-taking, sun-basking, and laughing and we headed back down. We stopped in Gaggle for Chai and I was once again amazed at Chunnit's charisma. She knew so many people passing on the streets, and she joked knowingly with the Chai shop owner, who makes GREAT treats too, we found out. She stopped and got some green beans and red carrots for a friend of hers who had asked her to pick them up as a favor, and Emily and I got oranges for our rooms. (Oranges are the only "safe" fruits for us to eat since we can peel them ourselves and therefore don't risk eating stuff washed in local water. Pretty silly but supposedly pretty necessary).
Back at Sarah finally I treated myself to a hot bucket shower and did some laundry. Dinner was at 5:30 and then Chunnit whipped out her volleyball. We played (or tried) for a while. She's an all-star, I swear--her skinny little self flies across the court in her maroon robes and little black shoes. Some other students and a hand full of kids joined our game, during which we spent just as much time chasing the stray ball as we did actually hitting it. Then the ball actually flew into the drain. It's a big open pit that's easy to see the bottom of, and Emily and I offered to jump down and get it. Unfortunately the sun had just gone down and some bats were flying in and out of it. They all said "careful, they''ll bite your EARS!" Man, I don't know if they were kidding, but we backed off from that hole PRETTY quick. We decided to brave the hole the next day when we had sticks and zero bat-problems. Then the basketball came out! Even though it was dark and the court had no light, me and Chunnit played well into the evening. We didn't make many baskets, and when we did we usually couldn't tell since we couldn't see a damn thing and the hoop has no net--but we didn't care. It was a blast. We got some Chai in the canteen by the court with a friend of hers who lives downstairs. (p.s. the Chai here is served in the smallest cups imaginable, so having 5 cups of Chai a day isn't quite like it would be in America. a cup = like 4 gulps) Her friend's a sweet heart and speaks great English; she had actually partnered with me earlier in a Tibetan class when we were being taught commands like "sit down," "stand up," and "put your hands in the air." Now she drilled me about Valentine's day in America. I told her my Valentine was dressed for the occasion and put my arms around my red-robed roomie, which they thought was hilarious.
I worked the rest of the weekend on my own rendition of the "wheel of life"--a creative project for our philosophy class. I decided to depict the 6 realms within the relationships that women have with their bodies (hungry ghosts as women with eating disorders, animals as those struggling to eat at all, humans as athletes--the potential to do so much good and so much harm to their bodies, etc.) It took me forever because I'm creatively a perfectionist. I had fun, though, and I'll present it tomorrow with performance poetry and a hell of a poaster collage.
So yesterday we met with Palden Gyatso. He's a 78 year old monk who was born in Tibet and because he happened upon the uprising in 59 got sent to a Chinese prison. And because he refused under interrogation to "confess" that Tibet has always been a part of China, he remained a political prisoner for 33 years. 33 YEARS! Like Ama Adhe, since escaping into exile he has made his mission educating the world about what happened inside of Tibet in the prisons--the story that China still doesn't tell. He went to a huge concert in San Fran, for example, and told everyone about the treatment he endured. He brought cattle prods and other things that the Chinese had used to torture him and other prisoners. These things are brutal--one shock and you're out cold usually. They used to bury men alive when they went unconscious if they were trying to get rid of prisoners to make the food spread around more. One day when he was affirming Tibet's independence under interrogation, they said "you want independence? We'll give you independence." They took him to the other room and put the cattle prod in his mouth. When he woke up all of his top teeth were falling out and his tongue was burnt. He took out his false teeth and showed us the scars on his tongue while he told us this. Our translator couldn't contain his tears. He also told us that though it wasn't proper for a monk like him to talk about such things, since it was an important fact he felt obligated to inform us that they also used these cattle prods in women's vaginas. Nun's vaginas. Nuns don't even use tampons. That bit really fucked me up.
He said that he doesn't hate the Chinese because he understands that most of them were working under fear of being punished by the government. Ama Adhe had told us that the Dalai Lama had instructed her not to hate the Chinese but that she hated the government nonetheless. This man, though--though he claimed like the Dalai Lama to be a simple monk who was mediocre in the practice of compassion and wisdom--genuinely expressed his love and compassion for the Chinese. He said that he thinks it's really important for us to go to Tibet if we can because foreigners visiting puts pressure on the Chinese government to make reforms in their treatment of Tibetans. He also advised us that many of the cheap goods that are made in China are made by Tibetan prisoners who stay up all night in order to complete their impossibly numerous tasks so as not to be punished. I asked him if there were any arenas within Tibetan studies that presently need more attention since we are all going to be choosing research topics soon. He suggested the Dalai Lama's plans for autonomy, the recent cases of brutality inflicted upon Tibetans, and a few other interesting topics.
More than anything, this man's presence was most striking. He had a face so worn that you could picture his skull beneath the deeply-creased skin, but his expressions were so jolly and his bloodshot eyes were filled with so much light that you couldn't help but smile when looking at him. He kind of glows. His little apartment has pictures of the Dalai Lama, one of him & Richard Gere and one Tanka on the plain white walls. It's itty bitty and we all sat on top of each other on the seats and the floor in order to fit. He said that he bought the place with the help of foreigners like us, so we were welcome any time. When we go, he said, we should think of it as going to our own home. He blessed our khatas and the malas that some of him presented us with and we took our leave.
Not your average Monday night.
We're going for a field trip on Thursday and I'm sure I'll have plenty to write after that. Stay well and be grateful--every breath is a miracle.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
pics!
The view from my little balcony
switching outfits (mostly)
McLeod
Need I say more?
This is a 600 year old Prajna Paramita text!!!
The library we un-dusted and un-packed upon arrival--the hidden wall is full of books!
Our lounge / culture classroom
"Nye ming la Lara ser khi yu"
yea i see this every time I walk down the stairs...
Chhunit and Bhuti--my room mate and her usual roommate
Chhunit laughing while playing my jimbe
random cow by the Guest House--where we have class.
We've finished finally at the foreign registry--where we spent two days. We're way excited. Note: my and Elinore's failure to launch, lol.
my little room--my bed on the Left and Chhunit's on the right (though it's re-arranged now with hers against the far wall so our heads are closer.
This is from the first week in Delhi
at a Sikh temple in Delhi
Dead Pigeon Position
Hello all!Wow so much has happened and yet I don't know what to say. Life has begun to settle down into a lovely rhythm. The classes are difficult but engaging and the campus is small but bustling. I've gotten pretty close with my roommate, though she's definitely a social butterfly and often has places to go and people to see. She's asked that I call her "Chunnie," which is what her mom calls her. So I call her my pocket-sized-Chunnie (to which she usually responds "I am no fit in pocket!").
Some highlights: Ani Kalsang Wangmo, our philosophy professor (who actually has the same official name as my roomie) arrived last weekend and we had a week of straight philosophy after the week of only culture class that we had in her absence. It's interesting because the class is a mix of people who are totally skeptical and new to the ideas in Buddhist philosophy and people who are gung-ho and very familiar. It's really awesome and much more well-balanced and fun that way if you ask me, though it definitely gets intense at times. Going over the 4 noble truths, the concept of dependent arising, etc. once AGAIN is sometimes frustrating for me, but I like the approach that our Gen-la is taking. She's a nun from Germany and very good at explaining the concepts to a "western" audience. In a week or so we'll have to turn in our own "wheel of life," with our own spin on the traditional image. We are free to collage and/or draw, and make it pertain to our own life or any creative angle that works and demonstrates our understanding. Whatever I do I think I'll present it with performance poetry. We'll see--depends on how much time I find myself to have.
Yesterday five of us took a walk and found a waterfall! We hiked over the large rockey river-bed (which only has a small river running down its middle) over to where it comes down. When we got there I only paused to think for about two minutes before stripping down to my jeans and a sports' bra (which is the equivalent of being nude here where showing shoulders is slutty) and crawled up to the fall. No one was around but my American friends who laughed and, in the case of my friend Allie, asserted "I like you." Totally worth it. Let's hope I don't get sick, lol.
Then yesterday night we had a "family dinner" with our roommates in our little dining hall and then watched Kundun together. My roommate had to go to spend time with her favorite teacher who left today to the dismay of all of her adoring students (they just had finals for fall semester). But man, it didn't matter that I'd seen that movie before--watching it in our little library with people who are so deeply affected by the history and present reality in Tibet was SO emotional. There's one scene in the movie that shows a young Dalai Lama holding his palms out and the shot zooms out in an areal shot to reveal a vision he has of a whole field of monks who have been shot surrounding him. Man, that was hard. In our discussion afterwards we found out some more details about our friends. Many of them had no idea about the historical events that have taken place since the 50s and considered themselves to be Chinese (though t hey were aware that they were a minority who were mistreated) until they left to India for their education and suddenly found out the history that their parents had hidden from them out of fear of severe penalties. Suddenly they knew they realized that they'd left a trap, and that they could never return, and that informing those inside of the reality was nearly impossible since phone calls are tapped and mail is screened and they usually aren't allowed back in if they've been studying where they are--in the Dalai Lama's school. Heart-breaking!
The other day my friend Elinore and I came to McLeod and took a Tibetan Cooking class. It was amazing! A man who walked here from Tibet in 98 taught us how to make cheese, veggie, potato, and chocolate MoMos (amazing Tibetan "pot-stickers" kinda). It was so fun and I have the recipees to make lots when I get back. He told us his story and showed us the region he's from in SE Tibet. He had to wait until 2004 to even contact his family--when a friend walked back to Tibet and carried a letter for him and tracked down his uncle. Pretty crazy.
My roommate has invited me to visit her family farm in Spiti when we're both out of school. I can't wait--it's part of India but it's definitely ethnographic Tibet--and there are Yaks! I'll be there in harvest season. She's really an incredible person. Her family is full of ALL women--her father, nephew, and her mother's unborn male child all died long ago. She's here to become a teacher when she returns to Spiti (did I already mention that?). If you ask her who her best friend is, she's likely to answer "everybody!" She's that charismatic and loving. She loves laughing laughing laughing, and spicy chips. She usually goes to sleep after me and we both wake up super early. I leave her attempted Tibetan notes on her pillow, written on the back of my Dalai Lama quote calendar sheets (one of those ones that you peel off a sheet a day to reveal the day's date and quote) which she refuses to let me throw out--she saves every one.
What else can I report? Last weekend almost all of us went to Jimmy's Italian Kitchen and indulged in some American food--pizza, pasta, wine, and beer. It was lovely--most of us had one drink if that, but the altitude plus our having abstained from drinking beforehand resulted in mild tipsiness and plenty of giggles. I'm still surrounded with Chai Chai Chai--it's just kind of water here. Oh, and Shiva Rae instructed a group of us (yoga DVD) to assume the "reclined pigeon" position the other day. We decided that since it's questionable whether live pigeons ever recline, we re-named it the "dead pigeon" position. Our "that's what she said" jokes have gotten out of control. We have begun to use the acronym "twist" (that's what she said too...yeah there's no "I" but whatever) to make it more publically acceptable. It adds a whole new meaning to "twisted." haha.
This week I've definitely started to feel homesick, but that's to be expected I guess. I miss and love you all. Feel free to contact me, but be patient with my spacey replies.
Love and Chai,
Lara
P.S. I wanted to upload pics since I have internet but my flash drive is being spastic. later. if you have Facebook I put some up there. xoxo
Monday, January 26, 2009
Arrival at Sarah
This place is incredible. It was really strange at first and I was feeling pretty sick (sore throat) but now that I've begun to adjust and settle in, I'm really enjoying it! We had half a week and a weekend to get settled and get to know the area, buy any last things we needed, etc. My schedule for the next 6 weeks will be as follows:
6:30am: optional temple
7am: optional meditation with just our program in our lounge or tea & bread with our roomies.
7:30: breakfast
9-10: Tibetan language class MTWTh
10-10:30: tea break for whole campus.
10:30-12: MWF Buddhist Philosophy class, TTh Tibetan Culture & Community class
on Fridays after class we'll have a field trip for C&C class.
12:30-1:30: lunch break.
1:30-2:30: language partner work and/or practice work in class.
2:30 till dinner = free time.
Usually 7:30 dinner with just us.
We're also starting an optional yoga class for an hour or so on the roof of the "guest house" (which is where we eat and have most of our classes and where the "American style" toilet is! yay!) in the afternoons. And soon there'll also be an optional meditation before dinner with our philosophy teacher who's a Buddhist nun from Germany. Then Friday nights we have our roommates join us for dinner and then tea and movie night.
SOOO MUCH TEA! It's amazing! And it's always what we'd call a "Chai tea latte" in America--very sweet and made with milk. Addictive as heck too.
So on our first day on campus we took a walk around, through the 3 story guest house and the large classroom building which has ping-pong tables downstairs in the lobby. We walked past the boys' dorm (strictly forbidden for we girls) and around to the girls' dorm and into the temple which is BEAUTIFUL. The buildings are pretty tall (girls' dorm is 5 stories) and have many balconies and windows that have laundry hanging all over them. There are friendly and well-loved dogs and cats, and kids of staff running around everywhere. The student population is about 250 students. You can walk across campus in a good 5 or 10 minutes. There's a basketball court in the middle which is well-used and a large field where we had tea with our roomies and professor the second day.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
We thought we'd be assigned roommates, but instead they decided we should all meet and choose for ourselves. We nervously approached an even more nervous-looking group of nuns and lay-women. We stood in a little cluster and Tawni, our lovely, glowing assistant-director (who was actually an Emory student in the first program here in 2001) introduced each of us Tibetan in turn by saying what we're all considering doing for our research projects and a little about us. She told them I was interested in doing something creative and possibly researching in the Tibetan Childrens' Village, and that I enjoy singing and dancing and entertaining everyone. (This is due to the bus ride out here which featured me wailing on my new jimbe while all of us re-mixed our favorite Beatles' and Disney songs). I didn't honestly know we were choosing roommates right then, but before I had a moment to think, a little grinning nun ran up to me and grabbed my hand and laughed nervously. I laughed too and we introduced ourselves while other people mingled and took their time choosing. Her name is Kalsang Wangmo and she's lovely. She's 22 years old and has been a nun since she was 16. She's here (like most students at the Sarah campus) to become a teacher and is from Spiti which, from the pictures, looks gorgeous--way high in the mountains.
And speaking of mountains, they're RIGHT HERE! We're basically in the foothills of the Himalayas, and every time we glance out the windows we're still in awe.
Hmm, what else can I tell you about campus? There are cows that punctuate the auditory sphere quite regularly, and the rooftops are definitely implemented as a regular chill spot. People often take walks after dinner. Showers consist of filling up a bucket from the "hot" water tap which basically secretes water that is a few degrees warmer than the rest of the icey taps, and taking it into a little stall that has one of those cold water taps in it. I myself usually bring in a bowl or pitcher for pouring and sing loudly to make use of my wow-that's-cold noises. And most toilets are little porcelain potties in the middle of a damp square of concrete with two raised blocks where you put your feet. Oh, and instead of toilet paper there's a little water tap and a small bucket. People told me I'd get used to it and I didn't believe them but honestly, it's not so bad. Especially since the program provides us with our own toilet paper (though we do have to throw it out instead of tossing it down the toilet...). The bad ones are in town where we're charged extra rupees (the "foreigner" price we call it--our pale faces earn us a higher price for everything) and there's usually no soap and the walls are really extra gross.
There's a bird nest above the sink in our bathroom so tooth-brushing is usually interesting in the morning: it's graced with bird song but plagued with fear of poop. Oh, and we brush our teeth with the water from our water bottles, and the water we wash our faces with is usually freezing since the "warm" water is only available during daylight hours since it's solar.
It might sound like I'm complaining, but honestly the whole there's-no-hot-water-or-sit-toilets thing is not only kind of adventurous and not so bad, it's also a great bonding experience for everyone on the program. We keep it light and end up laughing a lot. We're already way too comfortable talking about the bathroom and it usually comes up every meal.
So the first few days on campus I spent recovering from my illness and orienting myself. Then we had a talent show in honor of our arrival. We watched oodles of performances that ranged from traditional Tibetan song and dance to a guy liquidating to a modern mix. We were also expected to perform which was STRESSFUL! We pulled it off though. First we did a stomp while I sang a Tibetan song I'd learned when I was young. It was great. Then we all sang a modified version of "Let it be" with "His Holiness" instead of "Mother Mary," while I played the Jimbe. And finally we sang Kevin's "The 12 days of teaching": a spin off of the 12 days of Christmas. The whole cafeteria was cleared of chairs and 3 tables were set out in a "u" shape, behind which we were seated as well as the fac/staff, and then behind that were all the students, about 60 percent of which are in robes. It was dusty and noisy and lasted hours. We had a ball. We're still getting used to being treated like honored guests: it's insane! This program is really well respected, and a lot is expected of us.
We went to McLeod Ganj and...wow. We were escorted to the temple that's part of the monastery and the upper IBD campus. Room after room of sacred Tibetan art and meditation space left me speechless. When I placed my forehead to the Dalai Lama's seat (he wasn't there. every monastery has a special decorated seat reserved for his visits, whether or not they occur only...here they definitely do) I was filled with the most powerful energy. The tension that had been building within me the whole time since we started climbing the mountain in jeeps came out in tears and I walked around for about a half an hour crying in awe and ...I don't know what else. It was a lot of things. Part of me, I think, was amazed at the reality of my present state. I felt like my life had come full-circle. All the imagery that I had been surrounded by since childhood, all the things I'd looked to as a far-away place, was surrounding me and suddenly so tangible. I wasn't in Tibet, but I was pretty darn close. And also: I've known in theory for a long time about all the destruction that has come to Tibet and the religious places there. But here I was in a temple that was created for those in exile--it was easy here to imagine that which had been burned and shot and torn down right over the mountains. And also--I think I let go of a lot. I realized while standing there that the plan I had been formulating for my life had to change. I know that this place is part of my future. I don't know how. But everything in me was trembling as I looked out over the mountain-side city where people did laundry on rooftops and egrets circled. I don't know what my connection to this place is, but it's profound.
Well I bought a yoga mat and some comfy pants and ! a cell phone in town. My number is 9805693452. The country code (I think?) is 91. And I'm 12.5 hours ahead of NM time. Feel free to call! I called my Mum first, and she was heading for my Grandpapa's memorial. I still can't believe I'm the only grandchild that wasn't there. I missed not only the service but everyone being together in one place, including my new baby cousin! Sad, but at least I'm here and able to have deep meditation and connect with him and them that way.
Well today was the first day of classes and we have discovered that yep: Tibetan language is HARD! We've been practicing the alphabet and basic phrases since Delhi and are way ahead of schedule, but it's still a crazy language. I mean, there's a difference between the letter "cha," and "chha." Not to mention "dza," "sha," "shha," "tsha," and "tsa." *raises eyebrows* Class is fun though. Imagine a room full of us diligently repeating "Kha Kee-ku khee. Kha Shabqu khu!" time and time again after a lovely and patient monk who must think we're all impaired for not being able to say "nga" which is their word for I/me. whew!
So I'm going to read some of the 140 pages due tomorrow before yoga. Sending love and blessings.
xoxo
L
P.S. many pictures already taken, but I'll need to put 'em on a flash drive to upload them. stay tuned.
6:30am: optional temple
7am: optional meditation with just our program in our lounge or tea & bread with our roomies.
7:30: breakfast
9-10: Tibetan language class MTWTh
10-10:30: tea break for whole campus.
10:30-12: MWF Buddhist Philosophy class, TTh Tibetan Culture & Community class
on Fridays after class we'll have a field trip for C&C class.
12:30-1:30: lunch break.
1:30-2:30: language partner work and/or practice work in class.
2:30 till dinner = free time.
Usually 7:30 dinner with just us.
We're also starting an optional yoga class for an hour or so on the roof of the "guest house" (which is where we eat and have most of our classes and where the "American style" toilet is! yay!) in the afternoons. And soon there'll also be an optional meditation before dinner with our philosophy teacher who's a Buddhist nun from Germany. Then Friday nights we have our roommates join us for dinner and then tea and movie night.
SOOO MUCH TEA! It's amazing! And it's always what we'd call a "Chai tea latte" in America--very sweet and made with milk. Addictive as heck too.
So on our first day on campus we took a walk around, through the 3 story guest house and the large classroom building which has ping-pong tables downstairs in the lobby. We walked past the boys' dorm (strictly forbidden for we girls) and around to the girls' dorm and into the temple which is BEAUTIFUL. The buildings are pretty tall (girls' dorm is 5 stories) and have many balconies and windows that have laundry hanging all over them. There are friendly and well-loved dogs and cats, and kids of staff running around everywhere. The student population is about 250 students. You can walk across campus in a good 5 or 10 minutes. There's a basketball court in the middle which is well-used and a large field where we had tea with our roomies and professor the second day.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
We thought we'd be assigned roommates, but instead they decided we should all meet and choose for ourselves. We nervously approached an even more nervous-looking group of nuns and lay-women. We stood in a little cluster and Tawni, our lovely, glowing assistant-director (who was actually an Emory student in the first program here in 2001) introduced each of us Tibetan in turn by saying what we're all considering doing for our research projects and a little about us. She told them I was interested in doing something creative and possibly researching in the Tibetan Childrens' Village, and that I enjoy singing and dancing and entertaining everyone. (This is due to the bus ride out here which featured me wailing on my new jimbe while all of us re-mixed our favorite Beatles' and Disney songs). I didn't honestly know we were choosing roommates right then, but before I had a moment to think, a little grinning nun ran up to me and grabbed my hand and laughed nervously. I laughed too and we introduced ourselves while other people mingled and took their time choosing. Her name is Kalsang Wangmo and she's lovely. She's 22 years old and has been a nun since she was 16. She's here (like most students at the Sarah campus) to become a teacher and is from Spiti which, from the pictures, looks gorgeous--way high in the mountains.
And speaking of mountains, they're RIGHT HERE! We're basically in the foothills of the Himalayas, and every time we glance out the windows we're still in awe.
Hmm, what else can I tell you about campus? There are cows that punctuate the auditory sphere quite regularly, and the rooftops are definitely implemented as a regular chill spot. People often take walks after dinner. Showers consist of filling up a bucket from the "hot" water tap which basically secretes water that is a few degrees warmer than the rest of the icey taps, and taking it into a little stall that has one of those cold water taps in it. I myself usually bring in a bowl or pitcher for pouring and sing loudly to make use of my wow-that's-cold noises. And most toilets are little porcelain potties in the middle of a damp square of concrete with two raised blocks where you put your feet. Oh, and instead of toilet paper there's a little water tap and a small bucket. People told me I'd get used to it and I didn't believe them but honestly, it's not so bad. Especially since the program provides us with our own toilet paper (though we do have to throw it out instead of tossing it down the toilet...). The bad ones are in town where we're charged extra rupees (the "foreigner" price we call it--our pale faces earn us a higher price for everything) and there's usually no soap and the walls are really extra gross.
There's a bird nest above the sink in our bathroom so tooth-brushing is usually interesting in the morning: it's graced with bird song but plagued with fear of poop. Oh, and we brush our teeth with the water from our water bottles, and the water we wash our faces with is usually freezing since the "warm" water is only available during daylight hours since it's solar.
It might sound like I'm complaining, but honestly the whole there's-no-hot-water-or-sit-toilets thing is not only kind of adventurous and not so bad, it's also a great bonding experience for everyone on the program. We keep it light and end up laughing a lot. We're already way too comfortable talking about the bathroom and it usually comes up every meal.
So the first few days on campus I spent recovering from my illness and orienting myself. Then we had a talent show in honor of our arrival. We watched oodles of performances that ranged from traditional Tibetan song and dance to a guy liquidating to a modern mix. We were also expected to perform which was STRESSFUL! We pulled it off though. First we did a stomp while I sang a Tibetan song I'd learned when I was young. It was great. Then we all sang a modified version of "Let it be" with "His Holiness" instead of "Mother Mary," while I played the Jimbe. And finally we sang Kevin's "The 12 days of teaching": a spin off of the 12 days of Christmas. The whole cafeteria was cleared of chairs and 3 tables were set out in a "u" shape, behind which we were seated as well as the fac/staff, and then behind that were all the students, about 60 percent of which are in robes. It was dusty and noisy and lasted hours. We had a ball. We're still getting used to being treated like honored guests: it's insane! This program is really well respected, and a lot is expected of us.
We went to McLeod Ganj and...wow. We were escorted to the temple that's part of the monastery and the upper IBD campus. Room after room of sacred Tibetan art and meditation space left me speechless. When I placed my forehead to the Dalai Lama's seat (he wasn't there. every monastery has a special decorated seat reserved for his visits, whether or not they occur only...here they definitely do) I was filled with the most powerful energy. The tension that had been building within me the whole time since we started climbing the mountain in jeeps came out in tears and I walked around for about a half an hour crying in awe and ...I don't know what else. It was a lot of things. Part of me, I think, was amazed at the reality of my present state. I felt like my life had come full-circle. All the imagery that I had been surrounded by since childhood, all the things I'd looked to as a far-away place, was surrounding me and suddenly so tangible. I wasn't in Tibet, but I was pretty darn close. And also: I've known in theory for a long time about all the destruction that has come to Tibet and the religious places there. But here I was in a temple that was created for those in exile--it was easy here to imagine that which had been burned and shot and torn down right over the mountains. And also--I think I let go of a lot. I realized while standing there that the plan I had been formulating for my life had to change. I know that this place is part of my future. I don't know how. But everything in me was trembling as I looked out over the mountain-side city where people did laundry on rooftops and egrets circled. I don't know what my connection to this place is, but it's profound.
Well I bought a yoga mat and some comfy pants and ! a cell phone in town. My number is 9805693452. The country code (I think?) is 91. And I'm 12.5 hours ahead of NM time. Feel free to call! I called my Mum first, and she was heading for my Grandpapa's memorial. I still can't believe I'm the only grandchild that wasn't there. I missed not only the service but everyone being together in one place, including my new baby cousin! Sad, but at least I'm here and able to have deep meditation and connect with him and them that way.
Well today was the first day of classes and we have discovered that yep: Tibetan language is HARD! We've been practicing the alphabet and basic phrases since Delhi and are way ahead of schedule, but it's still a crazy language. I mean, there's a difference between the letter "cha," and "chha." Not to mention "dza," "sha," "shha," "tsha," and "tsa." *raises eyebrows* Class is fun though. Imagine a room full of us diligently repeating "Kha Kee-ku khee. Kha Shabqu khu!" time and time again after a lovely and patient monk who must think we're all impaired for not being able to say "nga" which is their word for I/me. whew!
So I'm going to read some of the 140 pages due tomorrow before yoga. Sending love and blessings.
xoxo
L
P.S. many pictures already taken, but I'll need to put 'em on a flash drive to upload them. stay tuned.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
From Praugpor, aka Paradise
Well our time in Delhi ended nicely. We went into the market and I ended up buying a Jimbe! I got a very good price and it's a very fine little drum. I have ALWAYS wanted a Jimbe ever since my brother Jason used to jam out on his. So then we all went back to the Y and had our last meal of the same stuff we'd eaten there every night- really good, but really HEAVY Indian food. At 4:30 we all got on the bus that was to take us to Pragpur --an Indian village where we would spend two nights before heading up the last 1/5 of the journey to Dharamsala. We sat in the bus for 14 long hours, never going faster than 50 mph, winding through countryside and slums, prosperous towns and a stretch of rotting corpses. It was overall a beautiful drive, and once the mist cleared we had our first dose of clear skies and clean air in India. What a sight.
Well the drive got to be a long one, so eventually the Jimbe came out as well as some other make-shift instruments and soon the whole bus was re-mixing our favorite songs from the Beatles to Disney classics. We also did some lovely freestyle-singing about drip drying on the side of the road and trying not to fall off a cliff or be spotted by the locals.
Finally we arrived in the village of Pragpur, and imagine our surprise when we are escorted to the most magnifiscent Indo-European style mansion with a fire in the courtyard out back and tea, cookies, and cucumber sandwitches being served. That was NOT what we pictured when we imagined an Indian Village! Turns out this man's ancestors were very well off in this little town and the house was beginning to crumble when he had the idea of turning it into a guest house. The whole town is quite midevil and gorgeous, full of happy people who will invite you in for tea and chat with you about their children. Our rooms are like mineature palaces with heated showers and gigantic beds. There are balconies and places to stroll, and every meal is catered. It feels kind of bizarre to be so doted upon, but we're all taking it in as our last (and in most cases our first) dose of this treatment before heading to where we'll be bathing in buckets. About 5 of us chose out some beautifully embroidered fabric from a very nice man in the market and then trotted over to the the tailor who made all of us beautiful salwars and cortas by 9pm. We sat and watched him work at first and a little crowd of men appeared at the door and made small talk while we waited. Someone brought us little cups of chai and we all accepted. What an incredible place.
At night the dogs and monkeys howl and there are a billion stars. In the morning the birds go nuts and caw and cluck and sing. Yesterday evening Geshe-la told us the history of the Institute of Buddhist Dialectics where we'll be studying for 6 weeks starting tonight. It was begun by the Dalai Lama when the refugees began to graduate from the schools he'd set up and many of them (less than 20 at the time, including Geshe-la himself) were looking to pursue higher studies within Buddhism. The second campus was begun a few decades later when the institute was out-growing itself. That campus, Sarah, is where we'll be--it's very peaceful and is about a 40 minute walk from "civilization." From the beginning the Institute has been controversial in its liberalism but has maintained its adamance about non-monastics and women being allowed to study alongside the monks. Pretty darn cool! There are about 250 students there total, so we'll definitely get to be close with the student population. Then Geshe-la led us in a brief sitting meditation which I actually found quite difficult because I was exhausted and half asleep. We had dinner which was divine as usual, and then began cleaning up before bed. I went to the lobby to see if I could make international calls with my calling card (turns out no phone in the whole VILLAGE can make international calls) and was on my way back to my "cottage" when my classmate Lauren told me to come to her room where we were gathering to watch the innaguration. I didn't even know we had television access, and we were all under the impression that the speech was happening in the afternoon in the US which would make it very late for us indeed, but no it turns out there was a COUNTDOWN to the end of the Bush reign on the TV station. We couldn't understand most of the commentary, but we sure understood the speeches. We cheered and got chills and, in some cases, cried. Almost all of us were huddled on the biggest bed you can imagine and for once felt so proud to be Americans in a foreign land. Maybe we'll stop telling the locals that we're Canadian now.
We're off now to Sarah and I'll have limited internet access there but I'll try to keep some posts going. I'm ecstatic to meet my Tibetan room-mate, as we all are.
Signing off from Heaven,
L
So last night after we'd had our lesson
Well the drive got to be a long one, so eventually the Jimbe came out as well as some other make-shift instruments and soon the whole bus was re-mixing our favorite songs from the Beatles to Disney classics. We also did some lovely freestyle-singing about drip drying on the side of the road and trying not to fall off a cliff or be spotted by the locals.
Finally we arrived in the village of Pragpur, and imagine our surprise when we are escorted to the most magnifiscent Indo-European style mansion with a fire in the courtyard out back and tea, cookies, and cucumber sandwitches being served. That was NOT what we pictured when we imagined an Indian Village! Turns out this man's ancestors were very well off in this little town and the house was beginning to crumble when he had the idea of turning it into a guest house. The whole town is quite midevil and gorgeous, full of happy people who will invite you in for tea and chat with you about their children. Our rooms are like mineature palaces with heated showers and gigantic beds. There are balconies and places to stroll, and every meal is catered. It feels kind of bizarre to be so doted upon, but we're all taking it in as our last (and in most cases our first) dose of this treatment before heading to where we'll be bathing in buckets. About 5 of us chose out some beautifully embroidered fabric from a very nice man in the market and then trotted over to the the tailor who made all of us beautiful salwars and cortas by 9pm. We sat and watched him work at first and a little crowd of men appeared at the door and made small talk while we waited. Someone brought us little cups of chai and we all accepted. What an incredible place.
At night the dogs and monkeys howl and there are a billion stars. In the morning the birds go nuts and caw and cluck and sing. Yesterday evening Geshe-la told us the history of the Institute of Buddhist Dialectics where we'll be studying for 6 weeks starting tonight. It was begun by the Dalai Lama when the refugees began to graduate from the schools he'd set up and many of them (less than 20 at the time, including Geshe-la himself) were looking to pursue higher studies within Buddhism. The second campus was begun a few decades later when the institute was out-growing itself. That campus, Sarah, is where we'll be--it's very peaceful and is about a 40 minute walk from "civilization." From the beginning the Institute has been controversial in its liberalism but has maintained its adamance about non-monastics and women being allowed to study alongside the monks. Pretty darn cool! There are about 250 students there total, so we'll definitely get to be close with the student population. Then Geshe-la led us in a brief sitting meditation which I actually found quite difficult because I was exhausted and half asleep. We had dinner which was divine as usual, and then began cleaning up before bed. I went to the lobby to see if I could make international calls with my calling card (turns out no phone in the whole VILLAGE can make international calls) and was on my way back to my "cottage" when my classmate Lauren told me to come to her room where we were gathering to watch the innaguration. I didn't even know we had television access, and we were all under the impression that the speech was happening in the afternoon in the US which would make it very late for us indeed, but no it turns out there was a COUNTDOWN to the end of the Bush reign on the TV station. We couldn't understand most of the commentary, but we sure understood the speeches. We cheered and got chills and, in some cases, cried. Almost all of us were huddled on the biggest bed you can imagine and for once felt so proud to be Americans in a foreign land. Maybe we'll stop telling the locals that we're Canadian now.
We're off now to Sarah and I'll have limited internet access there but I'll try to keep some posts going. I'm ecstatic to meet my Tibetan room-mate, as we all are.
Signing off from Heaven,
L
So last night after we'd had our lesson
Saturday, January 17, 2009
His Holiness...
Today we went to see His Holiness the Dalai Lama speak at a Global Conference on the state of Religious Affairs after September 11. He spoke mostly to the universality of the human condition ("we all have mothers. we are all predisposed to compassion) and the need for us to accept plurality and coexistence within religious communities. We sat five rows from the stage--right behind the VIPs and the Diplomats. It was amazing. He was all giggles and eloquent though thickly-accented English that was sometimes hard to hear if he wasn't close to the microphone. We feel so blessed that we got to see him by chance.
Afterwards we headed through market after market looking for a good resturaunt to eat. They were all so full that crowds stood outside on the already-crowded streets and sidewalks waiting for space. We were finally seated in a room that we had to walk through the kitchen of a big vegetarian south-Indian resturaunt to get to. The food was unbelievable and totally worth the 20 minute wait. We got giddy and lost track of time and before we knew it it was 4pm and our planned trip to the museum was out of the question. A handfull of people, including the directors and a student who has a 4 year old child, wanted to stay behind and rest, so we the young, reckless, responsibility-less ones set out on the metro for Old Delhi--a maze of shops colors and smells in tiny roads that are more like alleys where we'd buzzed through on peddy-cabs the day before. The twelve of us got there right as it was starting to get dark and set out on a shopping mission. We were looking for Cortas--short Saris that are fitted and ready-made. They're less hot and less expensive usually. It took a LONG time. We were definitely in Sari town, though most of the prices that were thrown our way were way higher than they should have been since we were a gaggle of westerners who didn't have our Hindi-speaking mother goose figure (Cynthia, the program director) with us. We got lost and found again, haggled over prices, held our breath in pockets of wretched air, and breathed deep near incense and frying snacks. Finally we haggled our way into a cheap rickshaw ride home.
Since lunch was late we'll probably wait a while to munch tonight, and then we're planning to have a "destress fest" in Carrie-and-me's room. We all need a good neck rub and yoga stretch after today's Saturday-crowds.
I keep looking in shop windows and wondering what I'll look like without hair--to the point where I'm always a little disappointed to see that I still have it. I have to keep reminding myself that in a few days I'll need it for warmth, but in a few months it'll be time and I can finally do it.
I'm starting to miss home a little--the people, the softness, the cleanliness, and the toilet paper--but I'm still in wow-this-is-such-an-adventure-mode, and so I'm in heaven. Meditating every morning and still unable to sleep through the night thanks to Jet Lag.
Anyway, much love and feel free to write. Blessings to all.
Afterwards we headed through market after market looking for a good resturaunt to eat. They were all so full that crowds stood outside on the already-crowded streets and sidewalks waiting for space. We were finally seated in a room that we had to walk through the kitchen of a big vegetarian south-Indian resturaunt to get to. The food was unbelievable and totally worth the 20 minute wait. We got giddy and lost track of time and before we knew it it was 4pm and our planned trip to the museum was out of the question. A handfull of people, including the directors and a student who has a 4 year old child, wanted to stay behind and rest, so we the young, reckless, responsibility-less ones set out on the metro for Old Delhi--a maze of shops colors and smells in tiny roads that are more like alleys where we'd buzzed through on peddy-cabs the day before. The twelve of us got there right as it was starting to get dark and set out on a shopping mission. We were looking for Cortas--short Saris that are fitted and ready-made. They're less hot and less expensive usually. It took a LONG time. We were definitely in Sari town, though most of the prices that were thrown our way were way higher than they should have been since we were a gaggle of westerners who didn't have our Hindi-speaking mother goose figure (Cynthia, the program director) with us. We got lost and found again, haggled over prices, held our breath in pockets of wretched air, and breathed deep near incense and frying snacks. Finally we haggled our way into a cheap rickshaw ride home.
Since lunch was late we'll probably wait a while to munch tonight, and then we're planning to have a "destress fest" in Carrie-and-me's room. We all need a good neck rub and yoga stretch after today's Saturday-crowds.
I keep looking in shop windows and wondering what I'll look like without hair--to the point where I'm always a little disappointed to see that I still have it. I have to keep reminding myself that in a few days I'll need it for warmth, but in a few months it'll be time and I can finally do it.
I'm starting to miss home a little--the people, the softness, the cleanliness, and the toilet paper--but I'm still in wow-this-is-such-an-adventure-mode, and so I'm in heaven. Meditating every morning and still unable to sleep through the night thanks to Jet Lag.
Anyway, much love and feel free to write. Blessings to all.
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