Picnic, etc.

Tuesday, September 30

I did make it back to the mountain - thanks in part to a mad dash to a "super-mart' where I found a lonely umbrella in a corner and paid a ridiculous fee to make it my own, and to the hiking boots I bought while visiting my parents in Arizona in March (they were much more boot than I needed for Sedona but the perfect amount of boot for climbing up a muddy hill in Katmandu!). Monday was a relaxing day on the mountain, catching up with Emily on what she'd taught the classes I'm taking over for her and a date night with myself. I bought a copy of "Seven Years in Tibet" at the bookstore while I was waiting for the rain to let up. It was quite obviously a bad pirated copy and I do feel a little guilty and might have to mail a few coins to the movie company for royalties because I watched it and enjoyed it very much. Once you get over Brad Pitt's accent and yellow hair, it's really a good movie.

Today was the first day of "picnic" - three days of games/eating/playing to mark the end of the "retreat" here on the mountain. I boarded the Monk Bus and we proceeded through the filth and squalor of Katmandu to a park on the outskirts of the city where we took our spot on a covered cement slab to begin the festivities. There were four or five other monasteries there doing the same thing, each with their own sound system blaring a combination of Indian music and American pop music. The park was small but a nice sanctuary from the noise and pollution of the city and it was full to the brim with both monks and dogs (as you can imagine, the park is a prime spot for scavenging food). Breakfast was a boiled egg and a piece of bread (a Nepali McMuffin!), and I could see lunch being prepared and it was going to include meat (a rarity in Nepal let alone at a Buddhist monastery). Kenpo was not there and I don't know anyone else who speaks English, so I sat on the cement and watched them play badminton and football and swim. After an hour or so, one of the Junior monks came to fetch me saying, "Miss, you must leave". Although that was about the extent of what he could communicate, I picked up my bag and followed him. He was with three other monks, none of whom could speak enough English to answer the question, "Where are we going?". So I put on my Buddhist mindset and just went with it. We walked outside of the park, up a dirt road, farther up into the mountains. After about 20 minutes they all stopped and looked at me, and then we turned around so apparently it was a sight-seeing tour (and I did get a fantastic view of the Himalayas). I took a picture of them, with me and then without me so that if I disappeared my camera would have some helpful evidence on it;). Back at the park I once again took my place in the corner and watched the monks playing games and gambling (yes gambling). Then all of a sudden everyone scurried about, picked up the games and scampered away. Once again I was told to "leave", so I picked up my bag and started walking away when I noticed Kenpo approaching with an elderly man on his arm. Just like that, there were cushions and rugs and tables on the cement slab - obviously the honored guests had arrived. They consisted of the Rinpoche's mother, consort/wife, grandfather and a couple of other people. I was invited by Kenpo to sit with them and we drank sweet tea in beautiful mugs and munched on nuts and chocolate covered raisins as well as our noon meal. I was sitting on the end next to a woman who arrived yesterday from Malaysia, a friend of the Rinpoche (Rinpoche is a title, it means "precious one" and refers to someone who is an incarnation and in this case it refers to the man who built Osel Ling as well as many other monasteries and who is currently teaching in the U.S.); she spoke very good English and I was excited at the thought of having someone around to converse with. Unfortunately as of tomorrow she's taking a vow of silence for 33 days so there goes that dialogue partner.

I basically sat in a meditation pose for 8 hours (not because I was meditating but because there's really no other way to sit on a cushion on the ground), occasionally talking with the woman on my left, trying to process the experience. There was no way to avoid food touched by many human hands, no fresh water, bathrooms that made the Chicago Park District restrooms look like the Ritz, goats wondering about grazing, little beggar children staring wide-eyed at our plates of plenty, monks competing in a dance-off in the next station over and countless other sights and sounds and smells that were completely foreign to me. By the end of it, I was quite overwhelmed and looking forward to returning to the monastery. The return trip took two hours as we were stuck in traffic (I rode back in a pick-up truck with Kenpo and a few others in the front and about 20 monks piled in the back as the busses were nowhere to be found; along the way I taught Kenpo the words "mind-numbing" and "road rage"), and by the time we pulled up to the base of the mountain it was a few minutes from being completely dark. True to my form as of late, I didn't have my flashlight with me (we were supposed to return at 5, although I should have known that was Nepali time) but was fortunate enough to have one of the little monks lead the way up the mountain, pausing to wait for me whenever he got too far ahead. I returned the favor when there were a couple of big dogs in our path and it was obvious he was too scared to continue - I brandished my umbrella, put my arm around him and forged ahead while thinking, "Show no fear; I am the leader of the pack". Thrilled to be back and not caring there was no supper, I took a short, scalding shower and went to bed.

Wednesday, October 1

Nice to wake up to news that the U.S. economy is falling apart and is dragging the rest of the world's economies with it. I decided to decline the invitation to picnic today, for mental and physical reasons. I stayed behind, did some laundry, read a book and generally decompressed. At 6 pm, the new volunteer (Joules, from Cambridge) arrived and there was no one but me to greet her. Apparently there had been a fatal traffic accident on the way back and the monks were caught up in it. The power went out just as she arrived so we got her settled in as best we could and then went to bed again with no dinner. (Feeling a little Oliver Twisty now.)

Did I mention that my toilet stopped working? Of course it must be said that I'm thrilled to have a toilet at all! At any rate, I alerted one of the monks yesterday and he said someone would come today to fix it. There are no public toilets here so I'm not sure what he thought I would do in the meantime, but fortunately the problem was simply with the water tank not filling up. I've lived in enough dodgy Chicago apartments to know that if I manually fill the tank, it will flush, so that's what I did and thankfully it did.

Thursday, October 2

No picnic for me today; more laundry, getting Joules up to speed, and heading to town for more supplies. We've decided to give our guest kitchen a good rub down and to take advantage of our free time today to get some work done.

No water for a while as they were fixing the water problem but it came back on before long and it's like with the "power saving periods", you just sort of make note and then carry on with what you were doing.

Funny how we take for granted the abundance of clean water everywhere and being able to have whatever temperature water we want, anytime we want it! Sounds like quite a luxury to me now!