‘If there be anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe,
I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. But this was shown;
that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same
precious love……’ Julian of Norwich
I finally got my own copy of ‘The Mountains of Wales…an anthology of verse and prose compiled and edited by Ioan Bowen Rees’. He lived on the edge of my village and I came across this contribution by him……
‘Welsh-speaking streams’ - Langtang Himal hid the remainder of the main Himalayan chain. We were now aiming for its foot, most frequently along a trace of path scratched in the sides of the precipices, like the well known path around Foel Cynwych above Llanelltyd except that the river was up to eight thousand feet below. Soon the white silk of the great mountains melted into the wool of the clouds…..And at the edge of the mist, Welsh-speaking- streams raised hope that there was some lost Welsh tribe in Tibet as well as amongst the Red Indians.’
Milarepa meditated in cave retreats and sung endless Vajra Dohas in this area of Nepal. He frequently used nature as a metaphor in his teachings on mind. I sometimes spend time at night sitting in the rocky cairn on the summit of Moel Faban behind my house or sleeping on her flanks amidst the ancient bronze age burial sites…..it allways feels ‘safe’ however once I lay buried in my sleeping bag in the the snow when I heard heavy foot prints….something poked the bag….I leapt out only to find two curious frosty mountain ponies………….Many years ago I carved Om Mani Padme Hum on a summit rock and one full moon I spent the night there contemplating Milarepa and reading his songs. My dogs were allways with me and would remain alert all night, standing guard. That night they were very, very nervous, something was about……so we headed back home!! …..I should have stayed.
Since returning home from Nepal the pilgrimage has continued…………in reality I guess it never ends …..no goal, only the path. Things have been a bit grim, illness and significant deterioration in my kness, legs and now hips. To quote my doctor….”terry you are fucked!!!” Regular physiotherapy and loads of pain killers have not helped so I have been struggling a bit. At least the weather has been good and now I am back in the pool trying to regain some mobility….the seals are waiting!
At times like this we need support…………I keep a picture of brave smiling Choetar-la, resting on his crutch and stick by the stupa, on my table………it puts my grumblings and self pity into context. I have my walking poles, the mala blessed by Rinpoche on my last day at the stupa and a Milarepa statue blessed by Rinpoche that I bought in Patan……what more do I need !! In some strange way the pain I experience 24 hours a day is like a ‘protector’ …… a constant reminder that I should always be mindfull of my actions and the results that are generated (karma) ……….what were the causes of these obstacles? I can at least rejoice that those karmic threads are comming to fruition and ‘walk’ on.
The weather is wonderful….hot clear days as the garden struggles into bloom….unusual for april/early may in these parts. Few birds at the feeders though….I wonder if it is my new neighbours cat? No rats this year either, in the past I have live-trapped a dozen or more around the feeders. The neighbours want to poison them so I have a quiet word with them(the rats that is!) and release them safely in the quarry with a prayer. The garden is a sanctuary…watered from holy wells….stones from sacred places…prayer flags and the garden Buddha.
‘Valley dogs bay
Above Moel Faban
Full moon………’
Last night I grabbed my poles and hobbled through the gate onto the mountain and sat in the darkness bathing in the healing light of the moon. Venus, a shimmering point of light in the west…….the dim house lights of Tal Sarn where Ioan Bowen Rees lived in the valley below. The first sign of the moon a subtle change of light on the ridge behind my house then her silver body slowly edges into view…….she rises in all her glory and never fails to take my breath away…………
It is full moon……………that same moon that rises over Moel Faban behind my house will shine upon the stupa at Boudha and the cremation ghats of Pashupatinath. …In the still pool at Lumbini and the ancient rocks of Vulture Peak….On my son somewhere in Australia and my teacher in Sikhim…. On the clear-cut rain forests of Brazil and the broken bodies of my brothers and sisters in Baghdad….. Reflecting in the wide eyes of the Anglesey seals and the clear deep waters of Llyn Idwal…..on the rainbow scales of returning salmon as they seek to spawn in polluted rivers….the snow covered peaks of Langtang Himal and the ‘wesh speaking streams’…. in my tears of joy and sadness as I watch these myriad worlds unfold in the ‘misty crags and valleys of this world’……
At times like this when I go to the mountains or by the sea I sometimes read some words of inspiration such as these by Milarepa………………
I stare upward at the deep blue sky
I realise completely the empty nature of being;
Of palpable existence
No anxiety or fear have I.
When I look at the sun and moon
I realise their nakedness, the radiance of Mind-Essence;
Of distraction and drowsiness, no fear have I.
When I gaze at the top of the mountains,
I clearly realise the immutable Samadhi;
Of change and flow I have no fear.
When I look at the flowing river,
I fully realise the running nature of all flux;
Of the wrong view of Non-Cause, I have no fear or misgiving.
When I contemplate the rainbow-like (illusions of existance)
I clearly realise the indentity of form and voidness;
Of the nihilistic and realistic wrong views
I have no fear.
When I see the shadows of the moon-in-water,
I fully realise the self-radiance of Non-clinging;
Of subjective and objective thoughts I have no fear.
When I look inwardly to the self aware mind,
I clearly see the light of the inner lamp;
Of ignorant blindness, I have no fear.
How stupid it is to sin with recklessness
While the pure Dharma spread all around you,
How foolish to spend your life without meaning,
When so precious a human body is so rare a gift.
How ridiculous to cling to prison-like cities and remain there.
How laughable to fight and quarrel with your wives and relatives,
who do but visit you.
How senseless to cherish sweet and tender words
which are but empty echoes in a dream.
How silly to disregard ones life by fighting foes
who are but frail flowers.
How foolish it is when dying to torment oneself with
thoughts of family, which binds one to Maya’s mansion.
How stupid to stint on property and money,
which are a debt on loan from others.
How ridiculous it is to beautify and deck the body,
which is but a vessel of filth.
How silly to strain each nerve for wealth and goods,
and neglect the nectar of the inner teachings.
In a crowd of fools, the clever and sensible
Should practice the Dharma, as do I.
Milarepa
terry…..Full moon….Rachub….Wales
Filed under: Blogroll, Pilgrimage, tibetan buddhism, Uncategorized, wales
Well….I am back now. All that effort trying to see the Himalayas to no avail and then but as the bus climbs to my village the sky is ice blue and the mountains glisten under fresh snow……..!!
When I left the Dragon the sky was clearing so I rushed down to the stupa to see if I could get a view from the terrace…no luck..it was closed. Huge colourful arches were erected around the square and along the main road….lots of folk were gathering….monks in costume were arriving. A few weeks ago Chogye Trinzin from the Sakya monastary had died and his body was returning today. He had remained in samadhi for nearly 20 days…that is his body remained upright in medtation posture and stayed warm! A helicopter circled overhead strewing paper flowers as the huge bell tolled….the procession of monks arrived in colourful costume, a truck led the way with young women scattering flower petals on the road. A old tibetan man in cowboy hat and boots waves to the helicopter….devotees cover the vehicles with kata’s as they pass with the body.
The final teaching from the stupa……………….impermanence.
I say goodbye to Jules and do some kora for the last time….I see the little boy with the bamboo zimmer frame still laughing…I put some notes in my palm and shake his hand….I have lunch in the Three Sister’s and donate the rest of my nepali money to the Kagyu gompa. The old monk is there and comes over full of smiles…I tell him I am leaving but maybe I will see him next year….he says that will be unlikely as he dying!! Impermanence……..
Tibetans say the greatest teaching a Lama can give is his own death.
I collect my bags and walk back down through Shechen to get a taxi. The security guard wishes me well and monks call out “safe journey”. Jules is sitting by the bell and insists on helping with my bags….one last farewell.
I taxi to the airport and begin the long tedious journey home….my heart a little lighter as something has remained, forever at the stupa. There is still snow lying as I travel into Wales….so nice to see the sea again….and then the mountains above the green green grass of home.
terry
Well …….this is probably my last post from Bouddha, I spread my wings and fly back home tomorrow….the forecast for home is snow on saturday…..snow is auspicious in Tibet I believe. That is assuming the ‘troubles’ do not impact here. There is still fighting and killing along the borders, petrol rationing, a shortage of cooking fuel and drinking water in some areas and powercuts here everyday
It is warm again today after some more rain, the dusty lanes around the stupa are treacherous in places. I am doing some shopping, taking some photo’s and of course saying farewell to friends…….many of whom I will not meet again in this life. Perhaps the next as the connections made here are powerful. Earlier I met Ringu Tulku on the way to the stupa….a wonderful suprise and a perfect closing of this pilgrimage ‘circle’ as he smiled and shook my hand. I have mentioned his kindness but I also feel that he is absolutely ‘authentic’ in everything he does………this is rare in this world………….do you know what I mean.
I have made many good friends here, it is like that when you are travelling. Old tibetans who smile as we communicate without language, Dharma pals and stupa folk ………… the kora continues and the old dog still wastes his life ‘eating, sleeping and pottering around!’
Tomorrow I will walk, perhaps for the last time (Impermanence is a definate teaching here!) through beautiful Shechen monastary as the uniformed guard says “namaste sir”, past the eight stupas and prayer wheels and onto the waste area where the men piss against the wall, women sleep rough in piles of rubbish and children beg. Past the man with leprosy….the beggar in saffron robes….the man laying on the ground with tube from his navel to a medical bag, staring vacantly into space….the nepali punks playing hip hop……the butchers stall with flyblown hunks of meat. Ahead is the golden crown of the stupa and the hum……the hum of devotion and I will step into the fast flowing river of ‘pilgrims’ for the last time……………………….terry
The other night I sat around the big table in the Regency chatting to some folk about the ‘troubles’ on the borders. Some had got through without any problems but others had not been so lucky. One woman had been stuck for four days only to have the bus wrecked . The horse and cart she hired was vandalised and she ended up abandoning her luggage and walking 22kms with the other passengers! There is a fuel shortage and huge queues of taxis and motorcycles, some waiting 24 hours!!
Yesterday we went by taxi to Namobuddha, a very sacred pilgrimage site in the forest just over the valley rim. It is where, in a previous life, the Buddha ( then a prince) gave his body to a tigress and her starving cubs. It was great to get out of the valley smog and see fields and trees. Alas no mountains as it was very misty, however this created a lovely atmosphere. Something like a chinese painting….reminded me of Bettws y Coed back home. The last part of the journey was along a dirt track that Kieran and walked seven years ago.
We first went to Thrangu Rinpoches gompa which runs along a ridge high above the valley. Apart from the monks we were the only folk there and we were welcomed with a cup of tibetan butter tea…..definately an aquired taste!!! We sat and talked on a terrace as the mist swirled through the tree below. Later one of the monks told me that it was still very dangerous here due to the maoists. Lots of birds and there is the occassional leopard. There was lots of beautiful tibetan buildings being built as the Bouddha monastary is being moved here. Prayer flags everywhere, butterlamps offered and the site of the offering by the prince. If I ever come back to nepal I will stay here for a while but even more dangerous than the maoists is the likelyhood that I would never leave!
Our friendly taxi driver drove us down to the stupa where the princes remains are held. A small stupa surrounded by some old buildings and a very old shrine. We had some dhal bhat at one of the simple tea houses, food cooked on a clay stove, the driver thoughtfuly brought us a fork and spoon which he wiped with his hands! You enter the area from the forest through an arch ,friendly dogs and beautiful children play and there is a extremely beautiful buddha enshirined in the stupa surrounded by offerings, butter lamps, huge bells , all very ancient and well used. In a land where evermore huge buddhas are being built this proved the point that ‘small is beautiful’. All around was forest with views down to the small farms in the valley below.
One of the amusing things here is thes spellings etc. on menus and signs, you could write a book about it. As we drove through the forest we saw signs for the Namobuddha Motel! It turned out to be a teahouse by the stupa inaccessible to cars except perhaps a 4×4! A notice said ‘please do not smok’.
We drove back down the forest track pasing small homesteads, lots of goats, people comming and going and onto the main road that leads to Tibet some 80kms north. Numerous army check points, soldiers carrying guns and sandbag defences ……… the mist did not lift so no views of the mountains and it looks unlikely that I will see them now, only a brief glimpse as we drove up from India. As I have mentioned before it was my dream to end the pilgrimage looking towards Tibet and Milarepa’s land….perhaps it means that I will have to return! That the pilgrimage will not end! I now think that it is like the proverbial ‘dust on the mirror’ obscuring the truth…….it is not where Milarepa lived that is importent but the realization of his ‘mind…..encountering my ‘true face’ if that does not sound to pretentious.
Last night when I passed the stupa on the way to the Regency I saw old Choetar-la and the tiny handicapped boy in his bamboo zimmer frame doing the kora together , all smiles despite the obvious suffering…….two generations…..it brought a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye. The boy never asks me for money but apparently supports his entire family on what he is given , a huge burden for a eight year old!
Jules tells me that Choetar-la is ” a beacon of perseverance in the eye of tremendous suffering. In spite of his constant pains because of a joint deforming illness he walks his rounds. With crutch, stick and beaning smile he would slowly do the kora. Jules quotes Choetar-la…..”This illness is my luck, it brought me here. Easy and hard are in the mind, it is neither easy or difficult. There is no difference…..” I first saw Choetar-la as I was leaving the Peace Restaurant, he was climbing the damp, dark stairs to where he lived with unbelievable difficulty.
So another day here, three to go and then I will have to leave….it is going to be hard.
terry
So…….full moon at the stupa was very interesting. I usually avoid talking like this but the energy was very strong….. a great flood of folk now all mixed up with the tourists…..beggars…touts and shops playing music and selling the Dharma……all swept along in this great torrent of devotional energy. I spent the day in the stupa attempting to practice and doing the kora….an old man sits beside me and listens to my mumbling and then a great beaming smile of approval and a thumbs up as he gently touches my leg on leaving. On the way the lama from the kagyu gompa calls out “hello” from a shop just as another in a dust mask walks towards me with outstretched hand….it is my teacher Ringu Tulku with his family heading for the kora. I thought he was in Sikhim! Full moon……..
On the way back from the Regency ( more cheap good food!!) there was a crowd around the Ajima shrine on the edge of the stupa. Ajima is one of the terrible Newar mother goddesses. All week there has been tsok (offering) puja here with a huge mound of rice covered with cakes, sweets etc., this is then given away. Tonight the shrine is open revealling the silver image of Ajima and in front is a pallequin being decorated with katas flowers and branches etc. Musicians arrive from several directions with drums, horns etc. The music is chaotic and to me, unsettling, groups of young men start pushing and shoving and things work up into a fenzy. Men carrying torches, incence burners and colourful banners etc. arrive…the image goes to the pallequin which is carried away.The all seeing eyes of the stupa looks on….. A young Nepali woman explains that it is a Newari festival but I leave as I don’t feel comfortable and it seems to conflict with my sense of a deep peace that normally pervades here.
I walk back up the dark dusty lanes to the Dragon and the gate is opened by the young man who seems to have several roles here. In the evening he wears a security uniform with cap and badge and I jokingly salute him. He shows me a picture in his magazine of a indian man hanging out of a giant alligators jaws, another of the man covered in blood and wounds…..it somehow seems in keeping with the evenings events. I had a disturbed sleep that night.
The next day the weather changed, it had rained in the night….at least it kept the dust down. Dorothy and I planned to get a taxi to Namobuddha today but postponed it in the hope that the weather might clear and we will get to see the mountains but it looks unlikely. I go to the ‘White Monastary’ where Chokyi Nyima is giving his saturday teachings. There are several lanquage and buddhist courses here and the gompa is full of wetern students learning about ‘Good heart”.
Last night was not good, my legs were worse than ever and I had little sleep and strange dreams…..I was being offered a soup made with severed heads!!!!! I had a peaceful breakfast in the Dragon garden and then called at Ringu Tulku’s house but he was out. I changed some money and bought some tibetan medical herbal teas from the Kailas medical centre that claim to cure everything. Later I called again at Rinpoches’s house and he was back……a very helpful interview…many questions answered …..what did I say about ‘kindness’?
Every cloud has a silver lineing………….
terry
( I should explain about the ‘old dog’ reference…..around the stupa there are several old dogs who sleep all day oblivious to the auspicious nature of the place….sometimes they stand to stretch their stiff legs…..most of the time they are eating, sleeping and pottering around. Wasting their precious lives…….teaching comes in many strange forms….!)
It is full moon tomorrow and last night it was bright as a clear mind over the stupa….I think of the hiils behind my house where I walk sometimes when the moon is full.
The other day I sat talking to Jules on the bench by the stupa, earlier a full marching band passed followed by folk carrying offerings, I think it was a wedding. Jules, a dutchman, lives here and devotes his time to the kora and to date has done over 20,000……he could have walked back to Holland! He studied Welsh at University and worked on the Mabinogion….I brought a copy of this to Nepal for Ringu Tulku! We watched the old folk struggling to walk the kora and he pointed out a old man, almost bent double in pain supported by two sticks. He manages three or four kora a day and allways has a great beaming smile….”pain is in the mind” he says. A monk joins us and strokes my hairy arm…..
Later I am harassed by some drunken men demanding money and it gets a mite nasty for a while….most folk seem to think there is a bit of an ‘edge’ here sometimes. I visit the small Kagyu gompa and talk to the Lama there. The previous Karmapa visited here and they are so kind when I say that I met him. An old monk threatens to rob me of my Karmapa’ pill’ which I carry in my neck in a gau and we fall about laughing!
The next day I caught a taxi to Yanglesho (Pharping) with Chistopher and a Australian guy from the Dragon. This is an area high up in the valley with many sacred sites. As we walked up the road we met a monk who is a relative of Ringu Tulku….a warm smile and a long lingering gentle handshake. The touts arrived as we walked up the steps to a shrine housing a rock from which a image of Tara is slowly appearing….next to a shrine with a large statute of Guru Rinpoche . More steps and we reach a small cave under prayer flags full of butter lamps which is dedicated to Tara. Up again and through a small gompa and we reach the famous Asura cave where Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava) cleared obstacles before establishing Dharma in Tibet….a very special place. The roof of the cave is marked with his hand prints! While I was bathing in the warmth of the butterlamps in the cave the monk from the previous day in Bouddha arrived, burst out laughing and pretended to steal my gau again. We go up onto the hill above and raise prayer flags before going down to the Vajrayogini shrine…an ancient sacred place little changed in hundreds of years.
We find the taxi and go back down the road to a complex of ornamantal fish ponds above which is a shrine toVishu under a overhanging cliff. To the right is a cave where Guru Rinpoche practiced… a jealous naga sent snakes to disturb him so he struck them with a phurba and turned them into stone transforming them into the stalagtites that hang from the cliff above.
Yeterday I returned to Pashinipatinath to try and find a way to the caves . I climbed a small grassy hill where many people were picnicing and sat on a bench in the sun looking out over the temple roofs. I was soon surrounded by a group of school children wanting to practice their english we laughed and joked, often at my expense…….if this were in a park at home I would probably be arrested!! Soon more folk arrived to join the fun …………….pure delight. I found some steps down into the Bhagmati gorge which led to the caves..despite the smelly river ( everyone was doing their washing upsteam!) and the litter it was a very serene place and I sat for ages beside the cave entrance. There ware two small caves with grills, peering inside I could see katas and statues of Tilopa and Naropa, founders of the practice lineage that I humbly attempt to follow. Next door was a tiny entrance into Hindu cave where a little old man lived, he would sometimes pop out for a fag and sweep the path! Two young men came up to me and asked if I believed in God…I sad we were all brothers and they shook my hand with genuine emotion. A old sadhu stripped and bathed in the river below. Above the caves, on a ledge was another cave where a young sadhu lived along with lots of dogs, puppies and doves. Several young men were climbing up and calling me to join them, I had a hunch that it may be a drug scene! I sat and soaked in the incredible peaceful atmosphere of the place……..I could live here! I could die here!! The sound of tabla, harmonium and bells came from the cave above filling the gorge with sound and then a beautiful voice singing devotional songs joined in….a tear emerged from the corner of this old cynics eye………………………just what have I done to deserve this? As I tried to do my practice the two young men returned and kept asking questions, I waited for the punch line but it never came……as I left someone from the cave above came down carrying several puppies and said I was welcome to visit them any time……………..downstream I could see the ghats and terraces and the smoke of a pyre in the fading light.
I climbed back up the steps onto the hill, in the distance the valley hills were clear, I was not sure if I could make out snow mountains or if they were clouds….pehaps it was all a dream……
I said good by to Christopher this morning, he is having his third attempt to get to Sikhim, there is still a lot of trouble along the borders . I brought some Nepali cheese and fresh croissants and sat on ‘my’ seat in the sun…the old folk were starting their labour of love and devotion around the stupa , a smallboy played with a radio controlled jeep and a man pushed a barrow laden with fresh mushrooms. The stupa has been painted and new prayer flags and decorative banners hung, probably for Losar (Tibetan New Year). I have eight days left and it is going to be very hard to leave….so much to do………………..and feel.
So if the skies are clear tomorrow where you live and the full moon rises in all her glory think of me…the old dog terry who just wastes this precious life eating, sleeping and pottering around …………………………
terry
Not a good night last night I had a flask of tongba in the Double Dorje last night, it comes in a wooden jar packed full of fermented millet, you pour boiling water over it and drink it through a metal straw topping it up from a huge chinese flask…someting like warm wine…nice!. I thought I would sleep like a log but instead……stange dreams…little sleep and that tooth! Looks like a abcess….I just hope the antibiotics keep a lid on things until I get home…root canal work here does not bear thinking about….! Anyway….’mustn’t grumble’!
I am tired, my legs are sore again after a good few days and I feel a mite lost, worrying about the tooth I guess, so I decide to walk down to Pashupatinath and the wooded hill above. I wander down the back lanes, shake of a bloke selling drugs and stumble upon a group of large colourful tents, in each one there is a wedding taking place….and I left my camera behind!
I cross the footbridge and start to climb the temple steps to the woods but I am stopped by a policeman wanting money so I stroll along the Bagmati which is literally an open sewer but holy also….bathe here and you have release from the cycle of rebirth…..just like the Ganges. I think it must give a quick release from this life also!!!! I work my way up through the woods and along the path that ends on the terraces above the ghats. Courting couples sitting in the shade..Nepali men strolling, holding hands…gangs of scary monkeys run riot through the trees and along the terrace walls.
I sit for a while in the sun, a good vantage point to look into the inner temple precincts. Opposite there is a dilapidated white building hanging over the river….a hospice for those who come to die. The ghats below are the ones used by royalty and young children wade in the filthy water panning the gravel….pilgrims on the temple terrace above toss coins and the children fight and scramble like monkeys. The breeze wafts smoke from the burning pyres over me…it certainly helps focus the mind…..impermanace….this fleeting life..! A young man in white with shaved head, probably the oldest son, pushes charred and blackened human body parts into the flames….a beautiful deep sound of a bell rings out over the rooftops. There is a huge bell by the stupa and last night I watched an old monk walk around inside it bashing the side with his stick
I climb the steps up into the complex of tombs and temples…a old man welcomes me to Nepal..he.knows all about Northern Ireland and Wales. A gruff looking soldier asks where I am from, thinking he may ask for a ‘ticket’ I smile, say “namaste” and amble on. On the steps there is a ornamental hole in the wall and young girls holding their hands in prayer close their eyes and walk towards it…if their hands enter the hole everyone cheers. A wild looking sadhu is building a bamboo shelter and fire pit on the edge of the steps and below a old sadhu covered in ash is handing out little packages to a group of young men. As I pass they beckon saying “ganga, ganga” …..I shout back “bom shankar” and they all collapse laughing…even the sadhu who calls back “bom shankar” in return……..laugh and the world laughs with you! The old scoundrel sadhus who tout for a fee for a photo are surrounded by a large group ao Japanese tourists…business looks good.
I sit for a while by the bridge and joke and flirt with the women trying to sell me bracelets etc., they laugh and home in on another group of tourists. I make my way back to Boudha along the dusty lanes flanked by endless piles of rubbish, houses sit crumbling beside fetid pools…abandoned paddies I guess? Dogs…goats..and children with catapults…teenagers playing with their mobiles. In amoungst this I pass english and music schools …..the’Brainy Shine Acadamy, a english medium school’ and others with quotes from Francis Bacon painted on the walls….another says ‘the desire for dicipline is the beginning of wisdom’!
In the distance I can see the golden spire of the stupa covered with prayer flags……..
terry
More frustrations with Qatar so I go to e.mail their head office with complaint..easier said than done. As I leave the road is lined with monks holding banners and parasols, little monks with bunches of flowers……a famous Rinpoche is due to arrive at the Sakya gompa by the stupa. We wait then we are told that it is running late so I go into the stupa and climb to the top level to see if the snow mountains are visible. They are still shrouded in mist but Phulhari floats above the trees. I hear trumpets, drums and horns so I join the rushing crowd to get a glimpse a three 4×4′s slowly pulling into the monastary compound….these little old Tibetan ladies take no prisoners if you are in the way!!!
The next morning after a sleepless night ( barking dogs and some poor soul throwing up for ages!) I phone Qatar again and am told no problem. I taxi into town only to be told by the patronising clerk that ” you have to pay”……manifesting my wrathful aspect I demanded to see the manager and finally got my free flight change, I decided not to push my luck and ask for a upgrade….back home on the 10th of Febuary….all being well!
Walked down through Kathmandu along backstreets full of crowds on the move…endless shops selling everything you could imagine and much more …facinating….courtyards with temples and shrines,then the main square in the old town. A fierce looking policewoman says I have to pay entrance to the square so I slip around the backstreets and find another way in. The old pagaoda like buidings are mostly under repair but the touts and fake sadhus are still there.
I walk down Freak Street ( Jimi Hendrix stayed here in the 60′s) declining the invetitable offers of dope and found the Snowman cafe…a legend in its own right from the days of the hippy trail. Not much has changed since I was last here with Kieran listenting to Neil Young in the gloomy room….it has some of the best cream cakes in the universe……!!! Eating, sleeping and pottering around……………
I walk back through the square with an eye out for the policewoman and head through the backstreets towards Thamel. My tooth is playing up so I buy some clove oil only to find that the street was full of shops selling false teeth….and some very scary ‘dental clinics’. By chance I stumble into a courtyard….. there is a large stupa called Kathesimbhu and a Gelugpa gompa, the stupa is a small version of the one at Swayambhu. I read that a visit here brings considerable merit to the aged and infirm…….how appropriate!!! One guy, a student he says but really selling thangkas, asks me where I am from…I say wales…he says “North Wales?” I jump up and shake his hand much to his suprise!!! I hit the german bakers in Thamel , get a taxi back to the stupa and sit on my bench in the sun.
When I set out on this journey it was my intention to travel from the Bodhi tree to end up looking out to the mountains where Milarepa roamed…….Tseriningma (Gauri Shanka)…we will go up to the valley rim at Nargako hopefully in the next day or so. The last few years I have sat by my stove in winter looking at maps of the Yolmo valley where he stayed in a cave…the plan was to walk out there, a couple of days from Kathmandu but my knees say no way.His heart-son was Rechungpa who visited Nepal several times and would have been at this very stupa a 1000 years ago. Milarepa is an inspiration for my practice and study…..when I walked the misty crags and valleys back home I thought of him…………..
A monk from Kopan started talking to me and it was nice to have a Dharma conversation sitting there is the warm sun. Later a old monk sits down resting from his kora. He is from Yolmo near Milarepas cave………….a very distant paternal connection with Milarepa ( I did not quite understand, he had little english and my tibetan is non-existant) …..I sat in the fading sun as we exchanged information about our so different lives but connected by the thread of Dharma and Milarepa…..he asked my my name and said his name before ordination was ……Rechungpa!!! The plot thickens folks……
The relationship between teacher and student in Buddhism and so clearly illustrated by that of Milarepa and Rechungpa is sometimes difficult for westerners to grasp. If I was to use one word it would be kindness ……. a profound kindness that is deeply, deeply humbling. Without the kindness of Ringu Tulku Rinpoche and Chime Rinpoche before him as well as the many teachers I have beem blessed to meet none of this would be possible………I really don’t deserve this good fortune as I waste this fleeting life ……’eating, sleeping and pottering around’ and yet they still patiently offer advice and teaching. This journey in particular would not have been possible without the inspiration of Ringu Tulku…without his kindness…I will never forget it. If I were using pen and paper instead of a keyboard it would be damp with my tears of gratitude………….I offer kata, dana and the best intentions but so little of myself. Perhaps, with their guidance , in some distant lifetime…I will be able to express that unconditioned ‘kindness’ in some small way. So the pilgrimage continues…… maybe I will see the mountains …maybe not……I sense that this has been going on for lifetimes and will continue…..the ‘narrow road to deep heart’……….a solitary journey through ‘Myriad Worlds’….for now I have to look for antibiotics as my tooth is painful again and swollen…..there is snow on the mountains back home and it warm and sunny here….reality calls folks…..
terry
Kathmandu…..paradise….well thats really stretching a point but I had to think of something! Listening in on my radio to the BBC world service I hear that all is well in Nepal now and yet when I read the paper its is different. Along the Indian border there have been killings and trouble between the Maoists and a separatist group leading to the burning of buses and then a total countrywide transport strike for a few days. Cabs on the road were wrecked, I saw a couple of rickshaws and a cab surrounded by men by the stupa entrance a couple of days ago. Maoists with a banner by the stupa! Things are back to normal now….for the time being!
I am doing OK but my body is not so good..the usual Kathmandu colds, bugs and coughs…..the tooth problem threatening to return and my knees ( now legs and hips) are very painful at times …often at night. I found a local pharmacy on the main road with lots of boxes of pills and antibiotics covered in dust ……just in case. I have been sleeping well despite the dog that barks all night….I tell myself it is sitting with a prayer wheel and repeating mantras! I said tashik deli to the owner just now….thats compassion for you!! Anyway as I said ‘I’ am fine…….
I went into Thamel yesterday to change put my flight forward a week, I had one free change…or so I thought. The last 24 hours I have been phoning and e.mailing as they want money for the change….it will get sorted but it is a drag. Still at least there were the german bakeries……at the junction by the palace young beggars stick their hands through the cab window….”rupee, rupee, hungry hungry” and as we drive off they spit a well practiced “fuck off” in perfect english!! I get back to another power cut so dinner by candle light at the Dragon. Chat to Christopher who is off to Sikhim and share his delicious bar of german chocolate…an Italian guy offers biscuits…it is his birthday….I am doing OK!! Yesterday on my bench at the stupa I offered a wonderful old Tibetan man some crisps which he offered to the Gods with a huge grin…..
This morning I lay in bed reading and at last found a term that fits….’bhusuku’, (from Shantideva I think) someone whose behaviour is restricted to eating, sleeping and potters around…………………….
I made some more fruitless calls to the airline and checked my mail then in a very grumpy mood hobbled past the eight stupas at Shechen that are dedicated to the stages of the pilgrimage and remind me of my good fortune. I enquired at the Shechen gompa as to when I might be able to see the shrine dedicated to Dilgo Khyentse, one of the great realised beings of our time. I was shown into the room and then invited to sit down and chat to one of the monks…you know..”where are you from” ….”Wales”……silence. Then completely unprepared (no kata etc) I was shown into a huge room where the Yangsi (Hope I have got this right?) was sitting. Again solid as a rock and now a strong teenager, I met him seven years ago. Totaly taken by surprise I tried to explain and offered my kata loaned by the monk. Incredibly he said he remembered me from long ago with my son………………..!!!!! The Yangsi is the incarnation of Dilgo Khyentse. I forgot all about my problem with the airline.
With a spring in my step ( well almost) I headed for the Double Dorje for lunch, chatted to a french woman who helped at the Monlam and compared illnesses and ‘obstacles’! Read in the Himalayan that a big earthquake is expected in the Kathmandu valley….nothing would suprise me now.
Sometimes I wake and wonder what is going on….it was only a few weeks ago that I was floating down the ganges at dawn and seeing Ringu Tulku Rinpoche in the following boat with his huge infectious grin……………..
terry
Woke this morning with another cold starting and my legs painful after the long walk yesterday. It is getting colder now and this morning there was a thick mist enveloping the stupa. A fight started as two burley men attacked a beggar, soldiers with big batons and the stupa police looked on. I went to the Double Dorje early as I was planning to attend te saturday teachings by Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche. Had a good breakfast of real porridge with bananas, toasted tibetan bread with jam and a ginger tea ( a glass half full with fresh ginger ) and read the news in the Himalayan paper. Incredibly I could hear bagpipes and a drum ……….a marching band passed through the mist in national dress…..I think they were Tamangs. The teachings were cancelled so I walked around the stupa…..piles of juniper and incence , the smoke merging with the mist. Proud Tibetan men in cowboy boots and leather jackets , mala in hand….ancient women being helped by their children……men from Mustang with red cords braided into their jet black hair, chubas and worn out nike trainers….curious tourists……a young boy in a bamboo zimmer frame…….colourful Tibetan women in striped aprons and torquoise jewlery…a teenage girl texting with her mobile phone and repeatimg Om Mani Padme Hum……and the hum……………in one of the side streets there were lepers begging, filty rags covering their sores and a man who everyday sits unmoving with a tube from his navel to a medical bag….
I returned later and sat for a while in the sun watching the parade….a man next to me asked me where I was from and then asked about the rules of rugby…he was listening to BBC world service. I know I am big and from Wales but I know nothing about rugby!!! He had been tuning in to the BBC for a couple of years trying to learn english and there I was with my tibetan phrase book knowing nothing of their language…………..Harry and John ( from the pilgrimage) passed on the Kora so I joined them for lunch at the ‘New Orleans’, an upmarket ( or at least they thought they were) cafe by the stupa. Jazz playing, stroppy waiters who would say ”hello man” and overcharge….bad modern art prints……a western toilet with toilet paper……..expensive, not very exciting attempt at a sort of european tibetan fusion!! We sat in the garden and swapped Dharma stories for a hour or so. Nice to relax with friends but give me the old dark mo mo houses any day. The snake charmers are in town with their cobras in waven baskets…the men look shifty and one spots me and lifts the snake towards me ….I move on. As I write dusk is falling on the stupa, the mist has finally lifted….people are sitting on the terraces which are now draped in fairy lights and the endless flow of pilgrims do the kora, when I leave here onto he stupa it is like stepping into a river, no choice but to go with the flow. Tonight I will try the Yak , good cheap tibetan food I am told reliably. The reason for the fairy lights is that it is Nepali new year, there was some kind of festival on the fooball ground with bands etc. but I missed it. Bed by 8 and up at 11…sunday lie in…still full of cold. There is a total transport strike today, the main road which is normaly full of dust and fumes is almost pleasant. A taxi and a couple of rickshaws with a western woman are surrounded by men but it looks fairly calm. The Yak was a real find…delicious veggie mo mo’s, big plate of fried rice , another big plate of mala tofu and free green tea in a huge chinese flask….all for about a pound!!! The cook came out to see me and practice his english, offered a pair of chopsticks (which he wiped with his hand!!!) my kind of place…friendly honest food and service …what a contrast to the New Orleans……..another day at the stupa.
terry
