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...
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...
1 comment:
Ahhhhh, your blog brought me right back to the time I spent in Bodhgaya and Varnassi and warmed me from the inside out. Thanks for writing and can't wait to see the photos. Love to you both from Mexico!
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