Circumnavigating the Dalai Lama’s home and the main Tibetan temples up on the hill. Clockwise. Through forest and hills, a narrow paved path. Flat stones with Tibetan words I cannot read; alcoves filled with pages from books, small Buddha statues, and two little Ganesh figures hidden amongst the Tibetan relics. (Oh Ganesh, of course you’d be hiding out here!) Prayer flags everywhere: white, blue, green, red, yellow. Tangled together, blowing singularly, strewn across the trees. The wind carries the prayers. A man walks by me when Carson is ahead, and tells me it’s not safe to be by myself on this walk; mere weeks ago, there were several reposts of muggings on this very sacred path. How sad! Such a peaceful special spot, and to think of someone hiding out in those bushes waiting to take something from someone….? We walked halfway around and came to prayer wheels; painted red with flowers and swirls; bronze ones carved with symbols; three large ones, taller than a body, with a bell to chime with each go-around, a female monk in deep maroon robes walks around and around with her hand on the wheel, prayers ascending to the sky, circling the earth, vibrating into the ground. Prayer flags, prayer flags everywhere. The sun in our eyes; more prayer wheels to spin. Views of the valley down below, our legs tired and getting stronger from the hills.
On the lookout for His Holiness the Dalai Lama; we still haven’t seen him, but we noticed a large crowd down by the temple area today and it turned out to be the cricket players emerging, car-after-car, from a press conference with His Holiness. So many people in town this weekend due to the IPL cricket matches happening just down the road; the traffic is too much for this small town, and if I hear one more horn honking….?!! But of course another horn will honk, and then another, right next to you as you scoot to the edge of the road as the car just slides right by you…We have gotten in the habit of covering our ears when a car is approaching, to save them from the horn blast that will almost definitely ensue.
I am learning Tibetan Massage from a real sweet hearted man named Sopa; he came to India three years ago after a 35 day trek across the wintery Himalayas from Eastern Tibet. Despite his limited English skills, the three of us have a lot of fun and I am enjoying learning some new massage tricks. Carson is the happy demo, receiving the work once from Sopa, and once from me as I practice. Every day at 11:30 we walk up four flights of stairs to his small green room, which overlooks the street near the temple. We all smile and enjoy our time together; so easy and light, simple. I am a quick learner because I am already a body worker, so the teachings tend to take half the time as they usually do for him. We always walk to our favorite restaurant afterwards, up the Temple road and then back down Jogiwara road to Lung Ta….oh, Lung Ta. The greatest food here, a Japanese restaurant, non-profit, helping Tibetan woman and creating a place for them to sew bags, clothes, etc. and also providing English classes. We eat Okonomiyaki (photo in a previous post, a shredded vegetable Japanese omelet with the tastiest sweet soy sauce and pickled ginger on top), vegetable curry with fluffy Japanese white rice, a cabbage cucumber tomato salad…maybe some croquettes, or sushi if it’s Friday….lemon curd bars, shortbread cookies. We’re in heaven, and we’re not feeling bad about eating there once or (twice!) a day. J
We’ve taken a momo making class from another sweetheart, Sanjye Tashi. With two people from Israel, and two from the Netherlands, we learned how to make momo dough, roll it out with our palms and fingers, and twist it into varying dumpling shapes around different mixtures of vegetables, as well as a chocolate/sugar/sesame seed sweet treat. We walk many times up and down these hills here, strengthening our weak traveler legs. We look out across the valley from our guesthouse, looking north into where the Himalayas lie, wishing we could go farther into them. We visit our friends Shine and Kajsa at the Rogpa café, another non-profit space, cozy and welcoming, and drink hot lemon ginger honey tea and read books about Buddhism and Mother Theresa. We eat Tibetan brown bread toast with peanut butter and honey (oh peanut butter and honey, you remind us both of being kids!) and listen to tender and moving piano music there which reminds us of our favorite place in Pai (Thailand), La-Liead. Remember me writing about us sitting there with our friend Aie for hours, listening to tear-producing piano music and appreciating his beautiful art made with found objects? The First Cup café here has nearly identical music, and Carson and I are both transported to that time in Pai. La-Liead (slowly slowly) has been one of the themes of this journey; I have never heard that phrase “slowly slowly” before, and I swear I’ve heard it at least 20 times since we’ve been in India from random people. Whenever someone says it, I take it to mean that we’re on the right path, the right track. It snaps me to awareness….oh yes, slowly slowly, that’s right. Slow down, take notice, listen, look at this, go this way, this is it. It’s like a signpost, a spark of intuition, a guide.
Yesterday at lunch a Scottish man sat next to us and told us stories about Krishna and the various sacred stories of India. We are journeying next week to Vrindavan, Krishna’s childhood home and one of the holiest cities in India with over 6000 temples in a city of only 60,000 people. We are enjoying staying put in this place of McLeod Ganj for nearly a week now; I truly wish we had more time to spend here. It is refreshing to be in a place where so much is happening; specifically, where so much of Importance is happening. This place, which is a home to so many thousands of Tibetans who have had to flee their home land in search of refuge and a place that they can study, learn, live with the freedom they deserve. I wish I could hear more of their stories, and commit myself to volunteering with the kids; teaching English classes; any of the many opportunities that abound here. I would also like to take Dharma/Buddhism classes down at the library, or do a Vipassana meditation course (there is a center in the area). Many westerners also come here to learn the Tibetan language, so that they can later help in translating Tibetan works.
Two days ago, I was walking down Temple Road and heard the sound of monks chanting; I followed it to the temple, where I saw hundreds and hundreds of Tibetans sitting on the grounds of the temple area, chanting mantra. I sat with them for about 20 minutes until the prayers ended and everyone dispersed, and then I sat on a bench facing the golden Buddha temple, watching people leave, watching them circle the temples clockwise over and over, watching old wrinkled beautiful smile eyed Tibetan woman stop and bow to the Buddha; watching women behind me prostrate on a long smooth wooden board over and over; watching Indian men watch the Tibetans; watching a little white dog with bells on it’s collar jingle along; watching prayer wheels spin; watching women holding small prayer wheels in their hand spinning around and around; watching malas (prayer beads) in hands, om mani padme hum om mani padme hum, bead after bead, prayer after prayer, sent out to the victims of the earthquake the day before in Tibet/China.
I see the news about the volcano in Iceland….so many earthquakes…so much happening in the world that we cannot control! I feel scared at seeing these things, thinking, where next? What will happen next? I am so far away from home, from my family, from so many people that I love! And yet here I am, still on a journey for another month, still visiting these holy places, eyes opening, observing, learning, participating, growing, reflecting. All I can do is pray that everything will be okay and that the universe will take care of everyone. I walked around His Holiness’ home on the little path today, spinning prayer wheel after prayer wheel, the wooden handles at the base of each one worn with oil from thousands hands spinning these wheels, year after year, over and over, the prayers inside circling and circling, spinning, like the hands on the malas to bead after bead, and the lips murmering prayers, and the deep smile lines at the corners of eyes, and laughing with a language barrier, and healing hands, and the enjoyment of food, and hands in prayer to a man with no leg, and maroon robes, and the journeys we all make, and hot ginger tea, and karma, and how blessed I am to be right here, right now.
I love you all!
Melissa
No comments:
Post a Comment