A Wandering Monk and Happy Endings

Leaving Kathmandu with plenty of time felt like it was going to be an easy task. Various group members expressed their sadness to leave. We got stuck in a long line due to the computers being down, and once we got on the plane, started to calculate our other barriers. All but one had no boarding pass to LAX, and 7 of 9 had bags booked to BKK, Bangkok, rather than direct through. Our close connection of 90 minutes was now much shorter, and we had some things to figure out. Thai Airlines are gracious and professional above what most American airlines do. I guessed that a friendly customer service rep would be happy to assist once we were on the ground.

Meanwhile, there was a lama in Business Class. I was on an aisle seat with a Tibetan grandma by the window bowing over prayer beads. A young girl was assigned the middle seat, and kept getting up to go up to Business to do something related to the spiritual teacher. We exchanged a few words and realized we were both transferring to the LAX flight. A very elegant Thai woman who had been the companion to the lama came back when the seat belt lights went off. She traded seats with the young girl, and in a very serene way thanked me for helping the lama find his way to the next flight. Holding 14 baggage claim receipts and being the taskmaster for my own group to make the transition, what could I say? The more the merrier. The lama took my hand and was a radiant little man. We jumped off and on the moving sidewalks to get through the long corridors. My own companions laughed and questioned the curious sight of us together. Many others stopped to pay their respects to the holy man.

The airline was heroic in pulling our unmarked bags off a very crowded flight and getting them on to the LAX flight. It was another long flight, and the birthday of my seatmate, so we celebrated for two days since the clocks seemed to move backwards and extend the joy.

I am exceedingly thankful that I went on this trip. I am grateful for my companions who added to the photos for this blog and for all the travelers who each individually were excellent human beings. For all those rooting for me and those who offered support to the Madave Ghimire Foundation, thank you.

Pokhara and news in Nepal

The first thing about coming off a mountain in Nepal is the sounds of horns honking. It is a "hello, I'm here!" rather than a hostile act, and there are a lot of people driving here, so a lot of horns honking. Some of the young ones in our group are thrilled at the opportunity to ride atop the bus with the porters and guides. We see their reflections and hear their cheers, songs, and greetings as they all call out to other bus top riders. The mountains recede in the background and we go an hour and a half down windy roads full of colorful vehicles to the town of Pokhara. Our guest house is on a quiet street near the lake. This is a tourist town full of restaurants that sell specially purified fresh vegetables and excellent coffee. Although it is still a very international mix, there are more Caucasians here than seen previously. We do a lot of shopping. The town is set up for tourism and again we seem to be participating in something that keeps the whole machine functioning.




It is with reluctance that we reengage with Western news. Amazing the far reaches of tabloid journalism and catty news of American celebrities behaving badly. I wonder if the non-English papers include this same perspective.

Last night in the mountains

Berenthanti. We had a relatively easy walk to this town, and we are at the river's edge. The town surrounds both sides. We stay on the mountain side, not crossing to the side that takes us out of the region and back to civilization soon. Our lodging is rugged by Western standards, but glorious compared to the tea houses along our way up and down the Annapurna Sanctuary trek.

There is a magnificent dinner of my favorite-daal bhat. It is presented on a stainless steel tray, a tasty combination of lentils, rice, and curried vegetables. We sit in a common room around a roaring fire in a circular pit. The guides and porters join us and this is when we give each of them generous tips, gifts, and applause. These guys have been amazing, and I am wholly convinced that in this culture it is a vital part of economy to participate in this type of transaction. It also made all that elevation a lot easier!

A hot shower and a new card game

I have not mentioned squats until now, but will mention them at the point of getting my first warm water in days. The tea houses have rarely had baths or toilet facilities in the rooms, and it meant getting up and navigating cold and dark outdoor walks in the night.

We hiked back down from the top, and on our second night we are back at Jhinu, a tea house whose bathrooms at the end of the hall have both toilets and enough hot water to take a modified shower. Some of my companions have endured the bitter cold water, but I know me, and if my body temp dropped in response to a cold shower, it would be extremely difficult to bring it back up. We never seem to stop and have time to bathe when a hot sun is pouring over us! It is a curious phenomenon that although we all must smell pretty rank and can occasionally smell ourselves and the traces in our clothes, we are immune to being conscious of the smells of one another.

Although we are back in the land of the hot springs, my knees are strained and vote NO on any optional walking. I enjoy my milk tea and later learn to play a new card game from the Brits. It is a game a few of us will continue to play for the rest of the trek, and one I look forward to teaching my nephews when we are on our holiday trip later.

Namasté

Namasté: A word meaning The Light of God in Me recognizes and honors The Light of God in You and in that recognition is our Oneness.

This is a conventional Hindu expression on meeting or parting, used by the speaker usually while holding the palms together vertically in front of the bosom.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namaste

As we venture further into the mountains, we pass many porters, trekkers, locals and guides. Because there is an international population here, many greetings are expressed, including bonjour Ciao, halo, hello, etc. But definitely most common was Namasté. I would pause every time I said it, especially with porters carrying what looked like an impossible amount of weight: I pause to honor the divine within them, that they may continue to draw upon that strength. It feels great to offer this greeting more than fifty times a day.

ABC

We make it to the top! After spending the night in Himalaya, we have lunch at MBC, the base camp for Fishtail, and are in the official sanctuary itself. The path is not steep, but the air is thin since we are moving above 13,000 feet. The meadow follows a small trickle of water, and there are trees, shrubs, and boulders. To look beyond the immediate is to see that we are encircled by peaks rising above 20,000 feet. Although there are huge chasms between us and the base of some of these peaks, it feels very intimate as their grandeur looms over us. These mountains are Annapurna I, Hiun Chuli, Annapurna South, Machhapuchhre (Fishtail), Gangapurna, and Annapurna III. When I go outside around 9:30 and the moon is yet to rise, the mountains glow under the most star-filled night sky I have ever seen. When I go out again at 3 AM, the full moon has risen and the change in light makes the mountains feel like they have moved in even closer. I know this is an uncommon experience to stand in this spot, and I embrace it.

The Community Table

One of the most intriguing components of tea houses is the community table. There is frequently a heater lit under a large wooden table, complete with LIVE FLAMES! The bottom of the table has a metal plate to absorb the heat, and it is imperative for all to remember to not stretch your legs out unconsciously, or one might find himself on fire. Wide benches surround the tables, and a "skirt" holds in the heat, making the dining halls very cozy places. Workers and overflow trekkers sleep on the benches when we all retire.

We are an international gathering during these meals, with people from Britain, Germany, Holland, China, the Nepali, and various other representatives. There are few American visitors, perhaps because of the travel warnings, although I will say that this is the safest I have ever felt in any foreign land, and ironically feels safer than some portions of my own neighborhood in Venice. Perhaps Nepal is "too far" or "too foreign". Many of the travelers return here repeatedly. I understand the calling.

Zen and the Art of Trekking

Musings on the trail:
1. Thankful to Shing Shiong and Qi Gong training 11 years ago to teach me how to walk trails using a 70/30 balance of my weight. It keeps me balanced on uneven surfaces.
2. The landscape at the Getty Museum taught me to listen to the sound of water on rocks and their variations
3. Thich Nhat Hanh for teaching me about Mindful Walking
4. Buddhist monks for teaching me Mindful Eating, to slow down and savor each bite as I practice being in the here-and-now in silence and appreciation. Limiting comments to the direct experience.
5. The Santa Monica stairs! All those mornings of repetition built up my tenaciousness.
6. Decades of hiking with my brothers, Nita, Paul, Randy and others
7. "Sure and Steady is my Step" is the mantra I adopted in the Grand Canyon a couple of years ago. I was happy to revive it for these trails. No precarious edges and cliffs, but still many roots and tripping challenges for a naturally clumsy girl like me.

Jhinu and Chomrong

We stop for tea in the mornings, and on this occasion, we left most of our stuff on the rooftop of the teahouse and hiked down to the hot springs. Extra walking seemed like an ordeal, but the treat of the springs was so incredible.

We spread out this day while trekking, and I am left alone with my thoughts and the sounds and smells of nature. There is the spectacular river, the Modi Khola, which has a lot of vibrant energy. Prior to this, I thought the Great River in Yellowstone was the most impressive. This river surpasses that due to its clear color, a light blue/green, lovely waterfalls tumbling down, and a variety of bridges to help us traverse.

A striking discovery is walking up on huge marijuana plants. One was drying in the sun; ww roll its buds through our fingers and smelled great. There are other pungent plants, the sources of incense and herbs.

Fishtail breaks through the clouds and is a majestic sight to behold. Locals play full-court basketball on one of the multi levels of Chomrong, their laughter wafting up the hill. After dark, as arranged by our guide, a group of locals come up to dance and play music. Our porters slide right into the group, boldly flirting with the dancing girls and joining in the drumming.

In the mountains

What had been far away was now near. I got up at 6 AM and climbed above the town, seeking first light. It was hard to imagine that with a drive and one day's climb, the mountains looked more attainable. We had numerous days to go, and we could set our sites on our destination. There is one mountain known as Fishtail that is particularly looming, The stories are that this peak has never been officially climbed, and the mountain is considered holy. The other peak shown above is Annapurna South.

Thanksgiving Soup and fried rice

First day on the trek. We were transported to a spot where we met our guides and I think had some additional porters join us. Our group was now nine, or rather eighteen because of the three guides and six porters. At first this felt incredibly indulgent, but then when we saw the route and means of carrying stuff, it was a good thing there were many to share the burden.

The countryside is beautiful. There are paths-stone walkways through the trees. Rolling hills, and as the day progresses, the clouds sank to fill the valleys below.

We had an amazing lunch of vegetable soup with ramen noodles, then vegetable fried rice. It is easier in teas houses to order as a group, and although I am the only vegetarian in the group, all are happy to comply with a more limiting menu. No one is disappointed.

Dinner includes fried chicken for most of the crew, and a lively boy builds a fire for us outside. The guides set up chairs for us, and someone brings a guitar for Scott. He takes turns singing with the porters, who dance and sing traditional Nepali songs. A local drunk comes by to enjoy the light and the heat, dancing in and out of the flames and feeling no pain. This is another layer of getting to know one another in the clearness of mountain air.

The Bandipur schools

Our visit to the second elementary school was Notre Dame. This is a well-financed school specializing in science. As we looked in the windows and heard the lessons, I wondered how I would fare in the 11th grade class. The science lab is well stocked, and there was a room full of brand new computers donated my someone from California.

The nuns are smart, politically astute, and committed. They told us of a recent U.N. report that the conditions for girls were worse in Nepal than any other nation.. I would expect that it is more due to devaluing women and neglect rather than any direct hostility. The women are working hard laboring in homes and fields. It is a minority that get to stay in school.

The county is in political transition, or more so, deadlock. As we are here, former president Jimmy Carter is also in Nepal trying to help the government mediate their differences. The press reports on his commentary, but it seems like it does not go far enough. He leaves before true resolution is established.

5o% of the education budget is covered by funds from beyond Nepal. This balance contributes to the precariousness and lack of resources. When we asked the nuns about how they promote Catholicism in a Hindu/Buddhist culture, they explain that the mission of their order is to educate, not proselytize, and that religion is not taught in the classrooms. In the same way the two major religions are morphed together for many, Catholicism is also integrated rather than dominating in this setting.

When we went to the public school next, our outgoing members led the students in song. A group of the Nepali students danced, and a splinter of the older males gathered around Scott who played some music on a guitar for them. This town is more influenced by outside culture. In spite of the uniforms, just as in the USA, students found ways to creatively express their individuality, including rock, punk, and hip-hop influenced accessories and style.

Camping above Bandipur

It is incredible to be eye level with the Himalayas. Our porters are great, and we are treated with milk tea and hot water in the mornings upon awakening. There is a long table in a tent where we dine, and they prepared amazing meals.

In town, we visited a few of the homes of scholarship recipients. One proud father talks of his daughter studying by the light of their campfire. There is no electricity in their home,and the entire inside of their dwelling is a low-ceiling
space not much bigger than my walk-in closet.

We met the twins whose mother has AIDS. Mother walks with them two hours to come to town where they attend school, and waits for them to finish. Then they walk the two hours home. This is a mountainous region, and no walk is without effort, even for the healthiest among us. The next day, they do it again. Students attend school six days a week. Because the extended family has rejected this woman, the Foundation and specifically, a newly married couple living in Spain have taken on the financial responsibility to assure the girls can attend school. The go to Notre Dame, which also boards students and will do that after the mother has died.

Hospital visit and dinner at Kirin's home

We toured a hospital, including the birthing room just as a baby was breaching, and then post-natal care. Most striking was how quiet everyone was, even the women in the throes of labor. The next room had a woman holding a newborn, and the next cot held a woman who looked crestfallen. Surely she had lost her child or something had gone wrong, and her grief was a palpable contrast to the joy of the woman with child.

Then we saw a father holding one twin, and mother holding the other while an older sibling quietly and joyfully looked on.

It felt intrusive, this group of white strangers walking through people's lives at such an intimate time. We headed on to Kirin's home, where attached to the property was a pharmacy and more birthing rooms. She is a exceptionally hardworking physician in this community.

Friends, relatives and local dignitaries abound. Amazing dinner, and once again, Kirin's husband was very entertaining. I am struck by the generosity and kindness that seems so integral to the Nepali culture.

Balkumari College in Chitwan

The next day was our consultation at Balkumari college. We were greeted warmly by many faculty introductions and then broke into small groups. My group had a focus of health and sexuality, and the group was matched between our public health faculty, myself, some students, and their nursing and education faculty. We exchanged ideas around how our cultures handle health education differently. There is a strong curiosity about what a counseling program would look like, as well as how to be helpful to cancer patients and drug addicts. I did my best to communicate the value of being heard, or giving someone the respect of our rapt attention.

As we joined the larger group for tea, a gentleman approached me and asked for feedback on his English language psychology textbook. He had many pages of his draft, and we excused ourselves from the room where people were giving summaries of the small group discussions.

Much work had gone into this manuscript. Professor Shyam Sedai has had many books published, including another English language text on the subject of physical education. Unfortunately, the references in this book were all woefully out of date, with citations from the 1960s. There were many harmful stereotypes, and the task of editing was too daunting. I am not good at skimming, a practice my roommate Andrea tried to school me in to simplify my grading, but I still have the internalized High School English teacher in me.

I gave a few ideas and asked if my new friend would be able to communicate with me electronically after I return home. Shyam's goal is to receive a doctorate by 2010. I tell him I would be happy to assist via email. I wonder if he is ambitious enough to follow up?

A panel of us speak to a classroom of business students. It was a teat to see that perhaps 40% were young women. This was a first year class, and they asked about education requirements to go to school in the USA. One was eager to know how to improve her English.

Sarenpur Village: The Homes

After ceremonies and gifts at the school, the Americans split in two groups to go to the girls' homes. Some elders had been at the school, but many were thoughout the village, either working their farms or small stores. We walked with one of the village leaders to four homes. We met mothers, sisters and grandmothers. Barbara would state our deep respect for their daughter and that we wanted her to grow up knowing we beleived in her . The village leader translated and the family members would humbly nod. Each recipient was loaded down with a bag of school supplies, and we passed out candy and toys to the children that surrounded us.

It was a peaceful walk through the village, and we saw a lot of goats, dogs, two oxen, but typically women and men working in the fields. After the visits we headed back to the school and spoke with more children and a couple of the teachers. We saw the classrooms, whereupon the benches from the earlier ceremony had been returned. Few books lined the library shelves, and the classrooms were dirt floors.

The children were energetic, curious, and joyful. There is a way they would look intently. How is it that we are here, these people who differ from them? We joked around and asked questions of one another.