"The Hem of His Garment"

"If I could just touch the hem of his garment, I know I will be made whole." --Sam Cooke

We have now been to the four major Buddhist pilgrimage sights and are resting our bruised tail bones (more on that later) in Kathmandu. The trek to the last two sites of Kushinagar and Lumbini began with a six or seven (or was it eight or nine?) hour train ride from Varanasi up to the crossroads town of Gorhakpur. From there we could take an hour and a half bus ride to Kushinagar come back and arrange our trip to the Nepal border and on to Lumbini. Corey and I bought "open" train tickets, and the officer told us to get on the train where we like and pay the conductor the difference. We ended up in some indecipherable class, which was very workable, and hoped for the best. The conductor never did come around, but we ended up paying our extra dues by being the "on train" entertainment for the locals. Many questions like, "is this your wife?" To which I replied, "of course, my of wife of two years now." Then the follow up, "So how many children?" I said that there were no children yet. "Oh that is terrible. What is your salary?" Hoping not to disappoint again I stated
confidently 60,000 US per year. I only got quiet nods, and it seemed like I was out of the woods. It was not so. "Come sit here next to me, friend." I tossed my head into a couple of traditional wags and took my place next to him. "Tell me, friend, was yours a love marriage?" With a smile and wonderment that such a question even exists, I declared in the affirmative. This tickled the whole crowd which had amassed at least twelve people by now. Just then a couple of women came through playing a hand drum and singing songs asking for alms or "baksheesh." A few of us gave a little and the atmosphere was very lively. Just then a wry smile washed over my new friend and he asked me if I would be so kind as to sing them an American song. "Oh, no," I said claiming my voice sounded like a howling dog, and howled to drive the point home. But they were not quelled and Corey was egging me on. "Come on Michael, just one song." To the request that I sing a love song, I launched into "These Arms of Mine," by Ottis Redding and took it as far as my vocal cords could. After the hooting and applause died down, I politely asked for baksheesh for my efforts. Another laughing fit ensued. Finally they were quelled, full as if after a feast with stomachs aching and eyes gleaming from laughter. I was allowed to return to my seat after a few pictures to commemorate the performance, and our new bonds of friendship. Looking across at Corey, I realized that no one was more tickled then her, and I was pleased to have brought a smile to her face.



more than generous just the day before on the and Corey and I sat contemplating impermanence at the supposed sight of the Buddha's cremation. As at Bodhgaya, Vulture Peak Mountain, and Sarnath these places attract many local Indian families for weekend get-aways. The crush of,From Gorhakpur the journey to Kushinagar was relatively painless, minus a wobbly stomach, "hello friend, which country? How long in India?" is almost abusive to a private fella like myself, especially after feeling that I had been train. Then of course they must have a picture with you. One picture each and there are twenty of them. Barely escaping with flesh still attached I turned to Corey and pronounced, "No more friends today." Funny to see my first real emotion around my western idea of personal space. Despite the various encroachments, Kushinagar proved to be an evocative place, especially the centuries old and few meter long golden Buddha in the reclining, or dying pose, which was actually excavated from the area. The layers of history and poignancy of the moment lay like a blanket on my mind.
(Michael being lectured on Buddhism by one of his new teenage "friends".)
(The public toilet in Kushinagar.)


We woke up they next day back in Gorhakpur on the 26th of January which happened to be the day Indians celebrate their Independence. Our guest house was directly behind the military base and we were woken early by the mic tests and the wails of a Felliniesque marching band. Everyone was in a festive mood, and most of the shops were closed. This presented a problem because the information we had been given about crossing into Nepal was that you needed $30 in US cash as well as two passport sized pictures to stay in the country for 30 days. We spent most of the day waiting for our truly bootleg pictures to be produced (we had only one left each after needing pictures for the most random things). This put us at the Sonali border crossing at dusk, later than I would have liked given the hour and a half left to Lumbini (the birth place of the Buddha). Quite confident in our research, pictures and dollars in hand, we approached the officers only to find out that the new government had changed the criteria in the last month or so and now we need $40 each and only one picture. All the time waiting for the pictures was apparently for naught. With only $60 in U.S. (three twenties) we decided on the spot that we would opt for the 15 day visa which cost $25 each. Pouring over the money, the officer decided that one of our twenties was not acceptable due to the smallest rip. You can't be serious. With all the dirt that goes on, our tiny and I mean tiny rip was going to keep us from finishing the pilgrimage at Lumbini. After a bit of pushing back and forth they relented that we could pay in Rupees and charged more than the exchange rate for sure. Trying to collect our humor, we thought, "well at least we got through."

Walking out of the immigration office we were immediately approached by endless taxis. All of which were telling us that the local bus (40 rps.) had made its last daily run to Lumbini, and we would have to take their car (500 rps.). With a healthy amount of distrust we avoided the taxis, and climbed into a packed jeep (10 or 11 people at ten rps. each) for the supposedly ten or fifteen minute ride to the next town and bus junction for Lumbini. Pitch black, cramped and in a total dead-lock traffic jam, the jeep ride took closer to an hour. Finally out of the jeep and walking to the bus stop letting the feeling return to my legs, we were again approached by a taxi driver. This time we were five feet away from the bus stop and still he persisted that the last bus had already left and his car was the only option. Feeling my skin thickening with almost every moment I said, "first we will find out if that is true." Of coarse we walked the five feet to the parked bus loading up for Lumbini. Like victorious travelers we boarded the bus. The bus driver seemingly so sweet, "yes sir, yes madam, I will take you there no problem." Only it was a problem as we unknowingly wizzed by our guest house and continued on for several miles to the last stop. The tiny village had only one guest house, which happened to be owned by a friend of the bus driver. Unwilling to be taken advantage of, tired, and in my case getting pissed off, we refused to stay there and demanded to be shown where our lodging was. Nonchalantly turning his head away from us, the owner of the guest house waved his hand down the road which we had come in on then turned and walked inside. Standing at the edge of this very small village looking down a pitch black road with no lights or town in sight, my stomach drooped. I reached for my pocket knife and and told Corey that I couldn't trust anyone else and that I would protect us and get us their myself! Ultimately less dramatic and more wise than myself, she promptly turned around to find the bus driver and demand he take us back. By this point he had slipped into the darkness of Nepal's electricity crisis (16 hrs. a day of power cuts) not to be seen again. "Then we will pay someone to take us," Corey said and we went about asking the villagers if anyone spoke English. One man did, Chinca, and he explained that there where no cars available in this small town but that he and his friends would ride us and our luggage on the back of their bicycles. The rest was a dream. Gliding through the night on the back of a bicycle powered by a man half my weight. Spontaneous memories of my childhood (the last time I have been ridden on a bicycle) playing through the movie of my mind. Dodging questions by the Hindu villagers like ,"Muslims are bad people, no?"

"Can't say I've met them all," I said. Privately I contemplated, "where the $%#@ am I." After the day of cramped travel ending with the hard steel of the back of a rickety bike, my haunches throbbed for sure. Making enough racket to finally get the attention of the man running the Lumbini Village Lodge, I turned to offer some money to our cheerful and goofy escorts. They refused making claims that we were guests to their village, but I would not budge. I grew up with Italians, Jews and Tibetans, there would be no defeating me. Our guest house and owner turned out to be very friendly and comfortable, although he couldn't understand why it had taken us so long to arrive? We'll tell you about it later.

Corey and I dropped our bags in the room and spent the next hour staring at each other and coming down from our adrenaline rush. "Now I can say that I've been to India and Nepal," I said. We laughed for awhile and proceeded to have a wonder filled conversation with many feelings and insights swirling in the dream landscape our minds had become.

Report from Shiva's City

1-23-09

It has proven to be quite difficult to think of what to include in these posts. This country is so vivid that I begin to feel that I should include everything or just forget it..........I think something in between, some kind of stream of thought is how it has to work. Since Corey last posted we have hunkered down at the Shanti Guest House in the "old city" of Varanasi with all the backpackers. It is sweet to hear everyone from varied countries making friends through the medium of broken English. Varanasi feels like the quintessence of the Indian experience with bodies burning, everyone pushing their wares (especially silk and hash), huge cows block the extremely narrow streets, monkeys thieving (we saw one snatch a pack of cigarettes and promptly put four in his mouth the right direction), gangs of red mouthed men chewing and spitting the famous Varanasi 'pan,' and so much more.

We witnessed the birthday of our beloved Corey and forged out for a night boat ride gazing back at the oldest living city in the world. A truly unforgettable sight. Unfortunately our gusto has been tempered by a nagging cold/flu which we undoubtedly picked up in Bodhgaya at H.H. Karmapa's teachings. A shrine room full of coughing westerners, we probably would have stood a better chance drinking from the Ganges. I was not at my most tip top for her birthday and I hope to make it up to her when we have fully recovered. Four days ago we collected our dear friend from Shambhala Mountain Center Carrie Marks from the Varanasi airport. Her red hair and big eyes reminding me of my own arrival in India only three weeks back. This place learns you quick. She only stayed a few nights and moved on her way to attend teachings from Mingyur Rinpoche in Bodhgaya. We also bid farewell to our spontaneous, intrepid travel companion and human Indian encyclopedia Stevie Brooks. Only before he left we made the trek to a fancy hotel, sat in the bar and watched as our President took his oath of office. All the locals have been very eager to talk with us about Obama. "Good man," "honest man," "very good for India," they say. Seems that he not only has America's hopes but those of the whole world on his shoulders.

Rousing ourselves, two days ago, we made the trip to Sarnath to pay our pilgrims respect to the old stupa at Deer Park. As with Bodgaya, I was struck and then touched by the ordinariness of these sights and places. Buddha's so called last words running through my mind, "Tell the people that an ordinary man was born and discovered the awakened state." Suddenly I found a tear falling during my meditation thinking of the simplicity of our deepest human wish to be free from the struggle to maintain our existence. But I digress. We then made the small walk over to the V.V. Thrangu Rinpoche's monastery in Sarnath called Vajra Vidya. I took refuge with him a dozen or so years ago and was hopeful for another meeting. As it turns out, Rinpoche was in Hong Kong but H.H. Karmapa was staying for a few days and giving a blessing. A bit of good fortune to clear up our congested heads.

We are now pulling up our boot straps and looking north toward Nepal with a stop in Kushinigar. Hoping to still be able to post with Nepal's new energy crisis mandating 16 hours of no power. We are a little weathered by very cheerful and closely watching as this remarkable trip continues.

Here's a smattering from the last few weeks (I added some to Michael's first post, below, from India, too, from the train...):

This is a long shot of the Kagyu Monlam- this is just a little portion of the sea of monks surrounding the Karmapa teaching from underneath the Bodhi Tree.

All these boys came running to have their photo taken by the squeaky old farris wheel behind the tibetan market in Bodhgaya.

Indian cop doing his job guarding the view at Vulture Peak mountain near Rajgir.

Muslim holiday celebrated with the loudest music you've ever heard and mock fighting with flourescent lighting tubes, observed from the roof of Deep Guesthouse in Bodhgaya.

A little view of the kite flying roof tops of Varanasi...


More photos soon...

on to the city of kites...

Well, we left Deep Guesthouse in Bodhgaya at 4 o'clock this morning, zipping through the Bihary dark in our little autorickshaw, picking up sleepy, scarf-wrapped men from the side of the road on the way to the train station in Gaya. (One of them had apparently little control over his sleepy self and couldn't help himself from staring at a white lady like me while attempting to vaguely place his arm on my leg- until he was scolded by yours truly and started minding his own business!)
Our two weeks in Bodhgaya was stellar in all respects. Sitting around the Mahabodhi temple hearing the handsome and humorous young Karmapa teach from the shade of the Bodhi Tree to the artfully arranged sea of maroon and saffron robed monks was, needless to say, a great way to spend our mornings. And evenings were often happily spent on our rooftop eating an unusually yummy veg thali and drinking too much tea. The Nepali Tibetan family and one Bodhgaya native running to brand new rooftop restaurant seemed to reciprocate the crush we developed on them- the older Tibetan mama bringing us special blessing cords for our wrists and endless pots of complimentary green tea.
The last few days we walked through the village in the morning to Tergar Monastery for the Karmapa's teaching for westerners, that Michael summarized above. Having gotten lost in the mini-sized and twisting lanes our first time through the little village behind the touristy and pilgrimy mayhem of the Bodhgaya, we ended up rounding a corner into what was basically someone's backyard- the teenage girl sitting on her back steps started laughing at as as soon as she saw us: two tall Ingies, so obviously lost and pointed us the right way. After we found our way, it was a great short cut: a gauntlet of cows and children yelling "hello, how are you!", practicing their school English on us. I especially liked the squatting pantless babies with balaclavas, the mounds of puppies and the one chicken dyed hot pink.
Also, we met up with the ever sardonic and thoroughly enjoyable Stevie Brooks, who was our thorough historical tour guide on a day trip to the ancient university of Nalanda and up Vulture Peak mountain near Rajgir- and who is hopefully going to meet us in Varanasi tonight. We ended up actually loving Bodhgaya but were happy to leave that dusty little town this morning.
Despite some phone mix ups, a steady man named Laxmi appeared in the crowd on the platform when we arrived here a few hours late and guided us reliably to our guesthouse above Manikarnika Ghat with its smoke rising for its many pyres of flaming wood and bodies. We dropped our bags in our room overlooking the smooth wide Ganga and went up to the roof, where we saw that the city was confetti-ed by a sky full of many colored kites from every conceivable roof top. Laxmi had told us today was a festival of kites and he was right.
Still no place to upload photos but soon...

Day Two "Living the Dharma"

*These are my notes from the second day of teachings from H.H. 17th Karmapa

Day Two
-Morning Talk
His Holiness Karmapa began the day by talking a little bit about a publication he created for proper conduct regarding the protection of the environment. He stressed how important it is to protect the environment and that doing so is an extension of our vows/wishes to benefit sentient beings. The book has five major points. Point one: Trees and forests must be cultivated and not mindlessly cut down. (I should say that most of this is perhaps common knowledge and that the publication is meant to be distributed to monasteries around Asia to try and effect some change in the cultural habits in India, Tibet, China ext.) Point 2: Protecting water sources, especially in Asia because the Himalayas provide water for a very large population. Point 3: The well fare of wild life. There is a strong push for vegetarianism from His Holiness and he asked us to consider all life of the animals as well as the amount of resources that are used in raising livestock for consumption. Point 4: Waste management. He said that Buddhists should be an example of good practices. He said that in Bihar (which is quite filthy) if the Buddhists would put their trash in the bins that maybe it would catch on with the rest of the population. Point 5: Climate Change. We should pay extra attention to ways in which we can minimize our footprint.
He then said that he wasn't feel that well and that if he tried to talk on one subject that it would be too boring so he decided to just spend the rest of the time answering submitted questions. This model continued for the duration of the day. Most of which turned out to be kind of tedious like "If we watch His Holiness Karmapa on a dvd and he is doing an empowerment, does that mean we also received the empowerment?" Some of the highlights (from my point of view obviously) were:
Q: How does fear arise.
A. Fear is a by product of the skandhas or the development of the self as a permanent entity in our minds. The antidote to this is to study and contemplate the teachings of dependent arising or interdependence. So if you really look at the development of what we call ourselves then there is no one thing that exists independently from the rest and no one element that is permanent. Therefore, if there is no solid entity there then there is nothing to protect or be afraid of.
Q. You talked yesterday about desire and attachment, can you discuss working with anger.
A. Anger is a very obvious thing to recognize, so in that way it is somewhat easy to work with because you don't have to look very far to first recognize and understand when it is happening. His Holiness said that what he finds difficult is that when he gets angry it is hard to let go of the reason, or the feeling that you deserve to be angry because of such and such a thing. He said that it helps him to think of great teachers and teachings and their example inspires him to let go of his anger. He also said that it is sometimes good to start to think about all the things that bother you because then you wont fixate on one thing and soon your aggressive energy will dissipate. He told a story to illustrate the point: A sheep herder got mad at one of his sheep for something and hit it with a stick. But that started a chain reaction with all the other sheep and they were all startled and acting out. He then had to try to hit everyone of his sheep and he soon wore himself out and collapsed laughing at himself.
Q. Please explain the antidote or slogan "victory and gain to others, loss and defeat to oneself"
A. He stressed that this slogan is about trying to train one's mind to move away from always thinking about one's own benefit. He said that you don't actually take on all the suffering, and that if the Buddha would have taken all the suffering that he would have just been sick all the time and that his students would spend all their time trying to collect enough tissues. He then said that in terms of implementing this slogan that one has to use wisdom and critical intelligence. You have to understand that what you are giving away will be useful and not harmful and that you are willing to give it away so that the act of giving doesn't cause too much discord in your own life.
* I will end with a slightly more humorous one
Q. Your Holiness, I have always wondered why people look the way they do. Why some people are beautiful and others ugly. Do you have anything to say on that.
A. His Holiness said that in Tibet they say that if a person has big ears it is because when they where young they misbehaved a lot and the teacher was always pulling them around by their ear. He went on to say that what we consider beautiful is usually cultural and that those conditions play a big role. He then conceded that their is some karmic element and used the example of the bodhisattva Avolokiteshvara. He said that Avolokiteshvara was always smiling with a lovely face because of all the good deeds done and merit accomplished.

*As always forgive the spelling and grammatical errors, I went to public school in California.

Living the Dharma

*Here are my notes from the first day of H.H. Karmapa's teachings to western students entitled Living the dharma. The summery is my own and not the words of His Holiness.

Morning Talk
-His Holiness began buy defining the practice of dharma as including formal practice (of course) but also more than that. Dharma practice is something that transforms our mind, like working skillfully w/ negative emotions. That kind of thing is not confined to formal practice alone. In his own life H.H. Karmapa said that as he gets older his schedule is more packed with responsibilities and he has less time to do formal practice. So he has made his main practice thinking of others as much as possible during the day. He emphasised thinking of people in a "lively" way wherein you see them with your eyes and feel like they are there. He said by really thinking of other people a lot during the day, that our minds naturally turn towards dharma and that transforming negative emotions is easier. He contrasted that by describing how selfishness and selfish thoughts keep our dharma practices stuck and we don't develop spiritually. So with little time to practice formally we can keep a dharmic lifestyle by continually considering others. He went on to explain that the development of compassion is the essential point, because compassion is what unlocks the dharma and makes it a real and valuable experience. In that way Bodhichitta is like a wish fullfilling gem, because when we experience bodhichitta our doubts are cleared away and we find real meaning in our lives. H.H. Karmapa then made the point that whether we are talking about dharma or our temporal lives, it is important to have a clear view and deep understanding of what we are doing and why we are doing it. If we have that depth of understanding then we will have less doubt and discursiveness and our practice will have more of a living quality. So real compassion which is like a wish fullfilling gem arises from integrated understanding and not just a conceptual construct. In order to develop that kind of deep understanding then studying the dharma and receiving instructions from qualified teachers is important. He finished by say that qualified teachers a hard to find, especially ones who you can truly take refuge in, so he suggested learning from teachers with good knowledge and then applying what you have learned from them. Taking instructions from the phenomenal world, such as watching the seasons change and contemplating impermanence.

Afternoon Talk
-The main theme of the afternoon was the importance of still maintaining a formal practice, but that it didn't need to be confined to a shrine room or something like that, but could happen throughout the day. He laid out an example of a possible daily schedule. His Holiness suggested that it is good start the day with meditation, sitting upright and letting your mind relax and be still for a little while. He said this would be a good time to do what ever formal practice you are doing. He also said that it is very good to finish your practice by making a strong intention for your day. When you arrive at work you should take a minute or two and just relax your mind. Let yourself fully arrive at work. He then suggested that you think that what you are doing is use full to sentient beings and that while you are doing it you will try to do your best job. When you finish the day and arrive home, it is very important to spend time with your family or living partner and make your household a loving and uplifted place. He said this is important because the love generated in the home will bleed out into the activities outside the home. Love and the development of compassion being synonymous with dharma practice. Then he said to take a load off. Give yourself some personal time to let your mind relax and to establish that space of relaxation and peacefulness as your inner home, or the place your return to again and again. He then went on to discuss the main obstacle to finding this restful mind as being desire and attachment. He said that other obstacles are more fleeting, but desire and attachment are basically there most of the time. In order to work with desire we need to investigate it fully and understand how it arises and what its qualities are. Desire has the quality of completely taking over ones mind so that we no longer see the object of desire as having any faults, but completely perfect and absolutely necessary to posses. He made a big deal out of pointing out that when desire takes over our mind like that then we are like slaves and have lost all our freedom of choice and ability to relax. So in order to transcend this time of wanting and attachment we have to come to the understanding that the object of desire does not possess any intrinsic "desirability" but that the desire is completely self generated. If we see that it is just our mind which is creating this desire then we can move towards letting go of the need for that particular thing. He finished by adding that going to the extreme of some kind of forced austerity is not helpful either. So it is not the desire that is the problem, only our enslavement to the desire.

*please forgive the grammar errors.

Landed

- "What have I done?" So surreal when thoughts produce action. You think, "I want to go to India," and then at some point you arrive. 2008 gave way to 2009 somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. In a somewhat hilarious display of European civility, the captian on our Lufthansa airlines 747 announced, "I am sorry to imform you that our company failed to stock enough champagne for everyone on board. Obviously we are very embarrassed about this. We hope you will bring in the new year with a glass of white or red wine, beer, baileys or congnac. We ask for your forgiveness." Both Corey and I forgave them several times over.

New Years day began with some Nuremburger sausages and eggs courtesy of Kafer's Bistro in the Frankfort airport. After breakfast the time drag set in and we slept for most of our seven our layover, as well as most of our seven hour flight to New Delhi. I received my first authentic Indian bobble head from the customs officer. Such a non confirmational look on his face as he hands me back my passport, I was reminded of Trungpa Rinpoche and the way he would say, "Good Luck." After collecting our bags and changing some money it began. Our hired car and driver cruzing along in a complete fog and mist singing, laughing and letting us know, "I really like your tips," and "I love tourist money." I figured that was true and decided not to argue that point.

One half day in New Delhi enjoying chai and korma, and then the train. The train? Is that our train? No, does our train still exist? Oh, yes no problem only four hours late. Finally on the train shacked up in a cabin with two Spanish women who couldn't speak any English. One could speak French and faster than a speeding bullet Super Corey comes to the rescue. It would turn out that they too were going to the Monlam. Brave souls what with having no English or Hindi. They called Corey their angel sent from Buddha, I have often felt the same way. Corey's kindness was returned when we finally arrived in Gaya around midnight and we were offered a ride in the two ladies hired car. How a 17 hour train ride becomes 29 hours somewhere along the route is beyond me, but then again this is India.

We have now been in Bodhgaya for two days, and it has not failed to live up to India's reputation. I have seen my first holy cow, leg-less beggar, random person pooping, and sea of saffron robes prostrating to the Karmapa underneath the Bodhi Tree with the great Mahabodhi Temple looming in the backround. Chaos and bliss alternating like the chin of an Indian man when you ask a question.

I promise pictures as soon as we find an internet hutch that will accept our request to plug into the USB port. Seems simple, but you know. So more to come, and I will close by saying both Corey and I are so happy to be here.

-Michael