Since living in Rewalsar (Tso Pema name in Tibetan) for some time, what naturally arises is the desire to be of some benefit to the community. With the training I have in Traditional Chinese Medicine and various modalities of massage I can’t help but notice when people are suffering and in pain in their bodies. So this is how I’ve come to reach out by offering to ease the pains of people who might not otherwise have the benefit of treatment. Also just up the road my friend Lena is a good example of someone serving this community through her knowledge of the body.(She's lived here about 20 yrs.) Recently when I wasn’t feeling so good I went up and she gifted me with a Chi Nei Tsang treatment which is how I came to find out that many years before she had also studied with Dr. Angela Wu (Chen) and the connection doesn’t stop there. My first week on the job at Spirit Rock she arrived with Lama Wangdor and translated for him. While he was talking I hoped that if I ever made it to India I would accidentally meet them again and as the fates would have it here I’ve landed.
It all started with my dancer friend Meenu who had a broken leg. Then her sister Tara wasn’t feeling well and I knew I could help her. Then I was walking around the lake and I noticed one nun was holding her back as she walked. With my limited Tibetan and the help of a friend I got it across to her that she should come up to my room and I would work with her.
Later that afternoon she arrived with another nun in tow. These sessions were interesting of course since the communication was very limited. But anyone who’s ever had a massage knows that at some point language isn’t necessary…However there are some basic things that it is necessary to get across. Like pointing out when someone needs to breath or when they need to let go of holding their muscles and relax into the ground or table or whatever. I imagine in time I will find the words to express these things but for now it is a practice in patience and trusting that through the process they will come about naturally. Maybe not in the first 3 sessions and maybe not ever (though I doubt that, eventually everyone under my touch relaxes).
In my 2nd session with Ani Tsherin Dikki as we were working together there was one profound moment when clearer than anything I saw/ met/ felt the presence of Medicine Buddha. Now, when I used to find myself at a loss in my work I would call in vain for insight to know what I needed to do next. But here I was just doing what I do and voila, Medicine Buddha appears. He didn’t stick around but just let his presence be known. Now I could only think that it was the great faith of this Ani that brought him so clearly to mind.
That was just last night, after our session Ani la invited me up to her house in Spiti in the Pin Valley which I didn’t visit last time as the road was closed due to a mud slide. (A funny coincidence is that the name of the last village in the Pin Valley is Mud, pronounce mood). So in about 10 days I will journey up there with her and about 4 other nuns. During the time we will be there Dzongsar Khentse Rinpoche (who made the movie The Cup) will be giving some important teaching of Dudjom Rinpoche.
Recently on a visit to Bir I had the chance to attend the last day of a teaching he gave on Boddhicitta. Perhaps it’s better not to go on the last day of a teaching. Even though I got it, that I was missing the 3 previous days I left feeling quite skeptical (which turned out to be really good for practice). So now due to whatever karma, I find myself about to take a very long journey on a road you don’t want to imagine back to a really beautiful place to receive teachings from this very famous, popular guy. What’s not to be skeptical about.
Back to the important issue...
I’d like to find a way to stay in India and offer massage to people in need. The way of life of people in Himachal and Ladakh is incredibly hard on their bodies. Often it’s not a doctor they need but just some good bodywork sessions. These people are poor and hard working farmers who carry everything on their backs. Even if you could afford it you could never use machinery here due to the landscape. The lack of machinery is one of the things that has kept the culture and landscape alive. Most people are incredibly strong and able to handle it but you can see the wear of it on the old people stooped over barely able to walk. Even there is a lack of doctors and though massage isn’t intended to replace medical treatment it can at least assist people who need help in the moment. So, what is it I need. Well, about $250 a month would cover all expenses. So if you know of anybody looking for a project to support please pass this info along. They can contact me here by clicking on the comment button or go to facebook.
p.s. I will probably need help setting up some sort of N.P.O. in order to make this work so if anyone can help with that would be great!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
chauntra
Chetsang Rinpoche who is the head of the Drikung kagyu lineage came to bless the new gonpa and spend a few days. The area around the gonpa was strewn with hanging flowers, strands of yellow and green marigolds while arrangements of gerber daisies and (the long stemmed ones we use for weddings and funerals) hung in bunches throughout the center. The mornings were filled with prayers while the afternoons were festive with entertainment provided by some of the local schools and a few performers from TIPA.
The day I decided to stay in Bir. I found myself at the small Drikung gonpa behind the guest house I was staying at where lots of local tibetans were waiting for Chetsang Rinpoche to arrive. So...nowhere to go I hung around. The nice thing was that compared with Chauntra the group assembled to get blessing from him was quite small at about 150 people compared to about 1,500 or more. Once he arrived and the prayers were said and the tea drunk we all lined up and as I bent my head to receive blessing to my surprise he asked me in perfect english where I was from. From that I couldn't help mentioning that we had been at Lamayuru in Ladakh on the same day he departing as I arrived.
The next day he gave Phowa instructions in the morning and blessing to every person who stood in that line in the afternoon. Even though I'd received blessings the day before I found it worth it to stay. I waited till closer to the end and I think that was about 2 hrs. before I got into it. So impressive and beautiful to see.
Many of the sponsors for this new gonpa were from Taiwan. May they be happy and continue to have the good fortune to support the dharma.
The day I decided to stay in Bir. I found myself at the small Drikung gonpa behind the guest house I was staying at where lots of local tibetans were waiting for Chetsang Rinpoche to arrive. So...nowhere to go I hung around. The nice thing was that compared with Chauntra the group assembled to get blessing from him was quite small at about 150 people compared to about 1,500 or more. Once he arrived and the prayers were said and the tea drunk we all lined up and as I bent my head to receive blessing to my surprise he asked me in perfect english where I was from. From that I couldn't help mentioning that we had been at Lamayuru in Ladakh on the same day he departing as I arrived.
The next day he gave Phowa instructions in the morning and blessing to every person who stood in that line in the afternoon. Even though I'd received blessings the day before I found it worth it to stay. I waited till closer to the end and I think that was about 2 hrs. before I got into it. So impressive and beautiful to see.
Many of the sponsors for this new gonpa were from Taiwan. May they be happy and continue to have the good fortune to support the dharma.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Guru Rinpoche Day
The streets are so crowed it's almost a hazard. The one thing going for it is that most people, 99.9% of them are all walking in the same direction...kora...around the lake. This is a time when I would have to say it's great I've been here for a few months. Local faces stand out in the crowd and smile and greet me in whatever native dialect is theirs and invite me to sit or take chai and we both comment on how many; mangpo, mangpo; people there are and it seems like a relief for both of us to have a familiar face to chat with; whoever it is at the moment.
I can feel the strain around my eyes from a long day spent watching the Cham dancing: lama dances. And trying to get a good angle for a camera that's only good use now is to dispay the magnificent color. Talk about abstract. A few close ups come into focus but it's now a 2% chance that a given photo will take.
but it's been a long day anyway for everybody...
this morning I got up early and walked around the lake watching the sun rise: pink. Dark forms silhouetted prostrating and bare trees reflected on the mirror surface. The outside kora is lined with bags and fabric laid on the ground for offerings to the poor. this early and they aren't out yet but their spots are deffinetly allocated. my regular food stops being full already I stopped at a new chai stand and had a paper cup full. gone are the days of ceramic cups I used to hear about. however it's still only 5r.
Another round and I hear my local I.T. guy, "Hey, Joe", that's his nickname to me. I've tried to explain that I don't have any guns but it goes over his head. Imagine never having heard Jimi...so now that's my nickname for him.
He looks like he might have had a long night so coming around to the "hotels" (just another word for a restaurant) I offer him a chai. We're in Topchen upstairs just across the street from the Nyinma Gonpa G.H. watching the crowds. Everybody is in their finest chuba, blanket, wool jacket/vest or kira. We're having fun locating groups by how they're dressed. Having spent the summer travelling through most of the areas where these folks are from I'm doing pretty good, there's just one blanket style that has me stumped. It's a heavy, natural thing folded into pleats in the back and belted so the top hangs over and back down. the only color is a red stripe with some dark designs on it...the one thing giving me any clue is that they also wear a himachali cap...so they deffinitely aren't from farther north than Lahaul. Zangpo, Jimi, says they're from Kinnaur. That could be, I was moving fast through kinnaur and didn't get to as many places. It was apple season when I got there.
Later in the morning it was costumes of another sort...Cham costumes. The dancing has been going on for a couple days already but since this is the BIG day things were taking longer to get sorted out. fortunately there is usually some sort of comic relief. In this case it was young monks masked as fools making fun and pulling older people onto the stage area to make them dance with them.
Of course before it all began there was the poking and prodding and being told I was too tall before anything was even happening by the little Lahauli ladies. Space...think small...think, make yourself as small as possible. One lady was almost crushed this morning when Dudjom Rinpoche was passing by when everyone around her rushed forward to get a blessing.
People were up on every surface available but one which was impossible to get to...Later I noticed even that one was got to. Then there was no gaurantee that your location would be any good to see around the official camera men and various other obstacles that never seem like obstacles till the performance starts. It's all just a mellee but once your committed to being there that's it... I really mean it cause there is no room to make a path to get out.
Which brings me to the fact the this gonpa is where I'm residing and when the crowd is "in" there's no leaving and when the crowd is "at the gate waiting to come in" there's no leaving and when the crowd is "in" there's no getting to the room so be here where you are and when you want lunch you better just tell tenzin la that you'll take whatever she's got because she doesn't have time for special orders and that includes Thukpa! (noodle soup)
Soooo, mmmmmomo's it will have to be.
I can feel the strain around my eyes from a long day spent watching the Cham dancing: lama dances. And trying to get a good angle for a camera that's only good use now is to dispay the magnificent color. Talk about abstract. A few close ups come into focus but it's now a 2% chance that a given photo will take.
but it's been a long day anyway for everybody...
this morning I got up early and walked around the lake watching the sun rise: pink. Dark forms silhouetted prostrating and bare trees reflected on the mirror surface. The outside kora is lined with bags and fabric laid on the ground for offerings to the poor. this early and they aren't out yet but their spots are deffinetly allocated. my regular food stops being full already I stopped at a new chai stand and had a paper cup full. gone are the days of ceramic cups I used to hear about. however it's still only 5r.
Another round and I hear my local I.T. guy, "Hey, Joe", that's his nickname to me. I've tried to explain that I don't have any guns but it goes over his head. Imagine never having heard Jimi...so now that's my nickname for him.
He looks like he might have had a long night so coming around to the "hotels" (just another word for a restaurant) I offer him a chai. We're in Topchen upstairs just across the street from the Nyinma Gonpa G.H. watching the crowds. Everybody is in their finest chuba, blanket, wool jacket/vest or kira. We're having fun locating groups by how they're dressed. Having spent the summer travelling through most of the areas where these folks are from I'm doing pretty good, there's just one blanket style that has me stumped. It's a heavy, natural thing folded into pleats in the back and belted so the top hangs over and back down. the only color is a red stripe with some dark designs on it...the one thing giving me any clue is that they also wear a himachali cap...so they deffinitely aren't from farther north than Lahaul. Zangpo, Jimi, says they're from Kinnaur. That could be, I was moving fast through kinnaur and didn't get to as many places. It was apple season when I got there.
Later in the morning it was costumes of another sort...Cham costumes. The dancing has been going on for a couple days already but since this is the BIG day things were taking longer to get sorted out. fortunately there is usually some sort of comic relief. In this case it was young monks masked as fools making fun and pulling older people onto the stage area to make them dance with them.
Of course before it all began there was the poking and prodding and being told I was too tall before anything was even happening by the little Lahauli ladies. Space...think small...think, make yourself as small as possible. One lady was almost crushed this morning when Dudjom Rinpoche was passing by when everyone around her rushed forward to get a blessing.
People were up on every surface available but one which was impossible to get to...Later I noticed even that one was got to. Then there was no gaurantee that your location would be any good to see around the official camera men and various other obstacles that never seem like obstacles till the performance starts. It's all just a mellee but once your committed to being there that's it... I really mean it cause there is no room to make a path to get out.
Which brings me to the fact the this gonpa is where I'm residing and when the crowd is "in" there's no leaving and when the crowd is "at the gate waiting to come in" there's no leaving and when the crowd is "in" there's no getting to the room so be here where you are and when you want lunch you better just tell tenzin la that you'll take whatever she's got because she doesn't have time for special orders and that includes Thukpa! (noodle soup)
Soooo, mmmmmomo's it will have to be.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
time flies when your havin fun
Tso Pema.
Faces of pilgrims change in waves that match the bus schedule. One week they're all from Ladakh, the next Bhutan, next Spiti, Lahaul, & Kinnaur. Now the Tibetans are back. All this means I get to practice saying, "Hello", in several dialects. Losar is comin' up on valentines day. Losar is the day the Tibetans celebrate their new year. This year like last it will be a quiet celebration to remember the loss of lives that have occurred due to peacefull demonstrations this year in Lhasa. Last year it was in Amdo.
In December when I spent another month in Mcleod Ganj I got to watch an incredible theatrical account of the events in Amdo. One which moved the audience into action; one young guy jumped over my seat to get up on the stage and punch out one of the actors who was playing a chinese policeman and goading the audience...
Anyway...here; Tso Pema...pilgrims circumambulate the lake...feed the fish to gain merit...and chase the monkeys when they get too rowdy. This morning I saw some guys with nets actually gettting ready to fish. Hmmm...there's a new take on an old proverb. I'm guessing those fish are fat from all the food but I wouldn't want to eat one.
Last week I had my first bite of chicken in about a year. (I know land of Tandoori and all). Well it was delicious. MMMMmmmmmmgood. Ate half the chicken in the shop and took the other half home for the next days lunch. Punjabi dhaba. I think some far off memory lurks of a time when Floria and I were driving back up through Mexico and hadn't anticipated "O" food opportunities...when we found an isolated "food" stand near Tequilla and got what was quite possibly the worst meal I've ever eaten. Anyway those kind of lingering memories can have an impact on experimentation in other developing nations....I'm not sure how Bourdain does it.
Anyway it turned out to be a great chicken and now will be on my "to do" list at least once a week till I finally get on that proverbial bus home.
Yes, You read it right...my days are numbered. I haven't bought the ticket yet but the inevitable day is coming. The day I cry, cry, cry. The day I have to say "goodbye".
Fortunately there are still allot of places I'm not going to make it to this time....so....I'm already planning where I'll be going when I come back...So stay tuned if you wanna make a trip to Incredible INdia.
Faces of pilgrims change in waves that match the bus schedule. One week they're all from Ladakh, the next Bhutan, next Spiti, Lahaul, & Kinnaur. Now the Tibetans are back. All this means I get to practice saying, "Hello", in several dialects. Losar is comin' up on valentines day. Losar is the day the Tibetans celebrate their new year. This year like last it will be a quiet celebration to remember the loss of lives that have occurred due to peacefull demonstrations this year in Lhasa. Last year it was in Amdo.
In December when I spent another month in Mcleod Ganj I got to watch an incredible theatrical account of the events in Amdo. One which moved the audience into action; one young guy jumped over my seat to get up on the stage and punch out one of the actors who was playing a chinese policeman and goading the audience...
Anyway...here; Tso Pema...pilgrims circumambulate the lake...feed the fish to gain merit...and chase the monkeys when they get too rowdy. This morning I saw some guys with nets actually gettting ready to fish. Hmmm...there's a new take on an old proverb. I'm guessing those fish are fat from all the food but I wouldn't want to eat one.
Last week I had my first bite of chicken in about a year. (I know land of Tandoori and all). Well it was delicious. MMMMmmmmmmgood. Ate half the chicken in the shop and took the other half home for the next days lunch. Punjabi dhaba. I think some far off memory lurks of a time when Floria and I were driving back up through Mexico and hadn't anticipated "O" food opportunities...when we found an isolated "food" stand near Tequilla and got what was quite possibly the worst meal I've ever eaten. Anyway those kind of lingering memories can have an impact on experimentation in other developing nations....I'm not sure how Bourdain does it.
Anyway it turned out to be a great chicken and now will be on my "to do" list at least once a week till I finally get on that proverbial bus home.
Yes, You read it right...my days are numbered. I haven't bought the ticket yet but the inevitable day is coming. The day I cry, cry, cry. The day I have to say "goodbye".
Fortunately there are still allot of places I'm not going to make it to this time....so....I'm already planning where I'll be going when I come back...So stay tuned if you wanna make a trip to Incredible INdia.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
saga con'd.
So I had just fallen...and...well, I had to have help to get up.
It was the night after Dewali and it seems that my karma had caught up with me but who knows the workings of karma after all it's one of those mysterious things that even the Buddha said don't try to understand the workings of because you might go "mad".
It wasn't like I wasn't prepared for the "fall." I was paying attention. I was remembering last year the night after Dewali when I fell into a 4' deep concrete trench which fortunately for me had 1/2" of sludge in it which was probably why I wasn't more injured than bruised. It happened on my way home from picking up my passport from the Indian visa agency the day after Dewali...because the day before was Dewali...and when I got there they were closed which was why on the 2nd attempt I decided to ride my bike which was why it was dark when I got off the ferry because I missed the earlier one by 5 minutes which was why I was paying attention this year because I didn't want to have a repeat experience because what I took away from the first one was to pay attention to where I was walking in India in case of potholes, etc.
After all the treking around in Ladakh and Spiti and even walking on the "sidewalks" of Mcloud Ganj (which is a very noisy place, not peaceful like you'd expect the town that the Dalai Lama lives in to be), after all this hiking throughout the Himalayas, after all this, you wouldn't expect, I wouldn't expect to fall, simply going to my room after dinner on a little marlbe step.
And why you ask didn't I have my flashlight? Because I was being stubborn. I can tell you I didn't want to be bothered by a phone call I new I might get so I decided not to take my new phone with the flashlight attatched so conveniently with me.
I had come back to the Gonpa from the upper village where I was invited to stay with my friend Meenu and her family...I was there on Dewali and we lit candles and danced (at least I danced, Meenu still had a cast on). We ate sweet things. I had the thought, "I should be careful because I fell last year at this time." Her father the local priest was pretty insistent that I stay another night but I did really have to get back to my suitcase because not only did I need a change of clothes what I also needed was a tampon. So now here I was back in the main village of Rewalsar showered and clean and "stuffed" and being stubborn and somehow at the moment, the critical moment of going down a few little marble steps in the dark I missed my footing and everything went into slow motion but not slow enough for me to right myself and in the next moment it had happened. Searing pain in my foot. Pain that made me cry out. Later I would wonder that my friend Claire had sprained both her ankles at the Drukpa Kinley (the "mad/naughty monk of Bhutan") place and somehow I hadn't even noticed. How was it that I was such a baby! I mean compared to her. I was crying out, "OUCH, OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!" and no one was seeming to notice. But then a kind family who had been turning the gonpas prayer wheels came over and at the same time one of the local guys who sits at the gate everyday came and he had some personal experience with sprains and so they all helped me get to my room and the "guy w/ the personal experience" came to my humble room with a tub of warm water and rubbed my foot, "OUCH!" and rubbed some sort of tumeric mixture on it and wrapped it in some toilet paper before putting my sock back on (my foot was yellow for weeks). The sweet ladies from Lahaul who had helped me up to my room also checked to help me to the toilet before they retired for the night and then came to check the next morning. At least I could sort of slide my foot across the floor as I went to toilet....I remembered helping my friend in Bhutan and how trecherous a few few feet could be but I didn't have anybody to go buy me a plastic cup thingy...and though the ladies were nice, communication with all the folks who were trying to help me was minimal at best. Fortunately for me "the Blue Cave" restaurant was just around the other side of the building (I was on the 2nd floor) and I could call down to Nyma from the balcony to deliver me some lunch. After her initial suprise of being "called from above" she came with hot water and food and her cell number so I could order without leaving my bed. Which she generously did daily till I was able to hobble downstairs and across the street. As it turned out she was the best cook in Tso Pema (Rewalsar) and I miss her everyday since she went on pilgrimage to practice in Bodhgaya for the winter. Since she left it's Veg. Thukpa (noodles) everyday for me...that or momo's. Both of which are good...but I'll just say I'm starting to miss having my own kitchen.
It was the night after Dewali and it seems that my karma had caught up with me but who knows the workings of karma after all it's one of those mysterious things that even the Buddha said don't try to understand the workings of because you might go "mad".
It wasn't like I wasn't prepared for the "fall." I was paying attention. I was remembering last year the night after Dewali when I fell into a 4' deep concrete trench which fortunately for me had 1/2" of sludge in it which was probably why I wasn't more injured than bruised. It happened on my way home from picking up my passport from the Indian visa agency the day after Dewali...because the day before was Dewali...and when I got there they were closed which was why on the 2nd attempt I decided to ride my bike which was why it was dark when I got off the ferry because I missed the earlier one by 5 minutes which was why I was paying attention this year because I didn't want to have a repeat experience because what I took away from the first one was to pay attention to where I was walking in India in case of potholes, etc.
After all the treking around in Ladakh and Spiti and even walking on the "sidewalks" of Mcloud Ganj (which is a very noisy place, not peaceful like you'd expect the town that the Dalai Lama lives in to be), after all this hiking throughout the Himalayas, after all this, you wouldn't expect, I wouldn't expect to fall, simply going to my room after dinner on a little marlbe step.
And why you ask didn't I have my flashlight? Because I was being stubborn. I can tell you I didn't want to be bothered by a phone call I new I might get so I decided not to take my new phone with the flashlight attatched so conveniently with me.
I had come back to the Gonpa from the upper village where I was invited to stay with my friend Meenu and her family...I was there on Dewali and we lit candles and danced (at least I danced, Meenu still had a cast on). We ate sweet things. I had the thought, "I should be careful because I fell last year at this time." Her father the local priest was pretty insistent that I stay another night but I did really have to get back to my suitcase because not only did I need a change of clothes what I also needed was a tampon. So now here I was back in the main village of Rewalsar showered and clean and "stuffed" and being stubborn and somehow at the moment, the critical moment of going down a few little marble steps in the dark I missed my footing and everything went into slow motion but not slow enough for me to right myself and in the next moment it had happened. Searing pain in my foot. Pain that made me cry out. Later I would wonder that my friend Claire had sprained both her ankles at the Drukpa Kinley (the "mad/naughty monk of Bhutan") place and somehow I hadn't even noticed. How was it that I was such a baby! I mean compared to her. I was crying out, "OUCH, OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!" and no one was seeming to notice. But then a kind family who had been turning the gonpas prayer wheels came over and at the same time one of the local guys who sits at the gate everyday came and he had some personal experience with sprains and so they all helped me get to my room and the "guy w/ the personal experience" came to my humble room with a tub of warm water and rubbed my foot, "OUCH!" and rubbed some sort of tumeric mixture on it and wrapped it in some toilet paper before putting my sock back on (my foot was yellow for weeks). The sweet ladies from Lahaul who had helped me up to my room also checked to help me to the toilet before they retired for the night and then came to check the next morning. At least I could sort of slide my foot across the floor as I went to toilet....I remembered helping my friend in Bhutan and how trecherous a few few feet could be but I didn't have anybody to go buy me a plastic cup thingy...and though the ladies were nice, communication with all the folks who were trying to help me was minimal at best. Fortunately for me "the Blue Cave" restaurant was just around the other side of the building (I was on the 2nd floor) and I could call down to Nyma from the balcony to deliver me some lunch. After her initial suprise of being "called from above" she came with hot water and food and her cell number so I could order without leaving my bed. Which she generously did daily till I was able to hobble downstairs and across the street. As it turned out she was the best cook in Tso Pema (Rewalsar) and I miss her everyday since she went on pilgrimage to practice in Bodhgaya for the winter. Since she left it's Veg. Thukpa (noodles) everyday for me...that or momo's. Both of which are good...but I'll just say I'm starting to miss having my own kitchen.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Saga at Tso Pema
So it's been an interesting month here in Tso Pema...the place where Guru Rinpoche eloped(?) with Princess Mansarovar and when her father found out he imprisoned her (the main road in Mandi is still called Jail rd.) and then attempted to burn Guru Rinpoche to death...which of course didn't happen as the lake formed around him the more fuel they put, the king repented that he hadn't realized what an accomplished yogi G.R. was. O.k that's the short version for all who don't know the story so I don't bore those who do. One thing about this pilgrimage is that Guru Rinpoche plays a major role...seeing how he was also in Bhutan...that big cave up on the mountain we visited called Tigers Nest...lots of Guru Rinpoche places in Ladakh as well and the whole kora around Tso Pema...and my long intention to visit Bodinath in Nepal...yep he was there too in his previous incarnation as the womans son...who helped build it...So now when the foot heals enough to get up to Lama Wangdors statue gonpa (see photo)... I have been invited to help paint the interior...I'm only just starting to shake in my shoes...can I possibly do this...well I can at least just put up the base coat...and maybe some decorations...I'm sure I'm nowhere near ready to paint a life size mural of any buddha or tara or vajrayogin...and it terrifies me that I might be asked to...but all things in time will appear as they will. ( Tashi the sculpture who invited me to help paint if I have time.)
So on arrival here back when I could still trapse about one of the local attractions is the visit the cave where G.R. and Mansarovar spent their time in meditation, etc. so I went up the mountain for a visit and met the nuns who live all round about the place...which is preserved with help from Lama Wangdor who visited SRMC during the 2 mo retreat back when I was there...anyway it was a lovely quiet place and the village on top of the hill is maybe one of the sweetest I've seen maybe ever...instead of taking the bus back to town or the direct stairs I decided to have a walk about the lake I had seen...there used to be 7 lakes here and they fit into the Hindu cosmology so there is a big statue of the monkey king Hanuman near one of them...this walk took me away from the road and behind the hill with the village...I saw no one except one sheep herder yelling at his goats...so it was the quietest place I've been in India ever...astonishingly quiet...for a sunny 3 hour walk cool in the shade, occasional bird noises and lizards hiding under bushes.
This walk turned into an adventure when I got back where the road meets the path near the 1st lake and I tried to hitch a ride on a scooter but there were already 2...so I thought I could walk or wait, so I walked a few paces down the road and discovered a stone stairway of sorts down the mountain and started to skip hop down not knowing where this path would go but knowing down was at least the right way for now...at one point through the tops of the trees I spotted a temple that looked intriguing...for the lack of much else around...I mean there are temples everywhere so why this one looked so intriguing I can't say, something about seeing it through the trees like that, I just had to try to find it...of course the thing about being in a forest is that at some point you can't see the tops anymore...so I kept my bearing and eventually found that I had skirted my destination and had to back track a bit...but finally success. As I reached the place a young woman and elderly man on a porch noticed me approaching and came around from the back of the temple when I noticed that the girl was on crutches....and she was very pretty. (theres a pic of her at the top of the page.) Meenu is her name and her father has been building the temple for as many years as she's been alive...work has slowed in the last years due to his health and the cost of materials needed to finish...but what is so astounding is that this temple that he built is to Tara of all the Hindu deities...and they told me many fascinating stories about the construction...and I became friends with Meenu who is herself a dancer...and the cast is from an unfortunate accident on a bus...hmmm...and she speaks perfect english...which in this small village suddenly surprised me. We had a lovely afternoon and they fed me lunch which I needed after all the walking and not a shop anywhere...till the late afternoon when I felt I needed to find the rest of the way back to town which turned out to be not so far away...which meant that I revisited my friends again a couple times...before...well...I fell.
Friday, November 6, 2009
NO News
Wow. What a long time it's been. One thing about using this is that I can tell when I haven't been near a puker for awhile...So after getting unstuck from Leh...I made it down to Spiti (fotos coming to a f.b. near you), kinnaur and back to Shimla...once in shimla my friends in the refugee camp wouldn't hear of me getting ripped off as high season was upon the hotels...and if you could find a room the price (by India standards) was unreasonable...so once again I stayed in the alley. Then I discovered that the Rinpoche (he is the head Ngima lama) that I had met on my way to Ladakh had just returned from travels so I was able the meet him again on my way back from Ladakh...this time he asked who I was and from where..."Ameriga ne in", I said. Ahhh he said and pushed my head closer to the floor after dropping a blessing cord in my outreached hand. So now in Tso Pema for the last few weeks for those of you with out F.B. I have been recupperating from a bad sprained ankle which is almost better now so hopefully soon I will be back on the move to Dharamsala and beyond. Pics just finished uploading so I better get back to that.
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