May 31 – June 5, final days in the Kathmandu Valley

After the intensity of Tibet, I was happy to have some quiet days in Kathmandu. When I could, I spent early mornings and early evenings walking with perhaps a thousand other people around the Great Stupa of Boudhanath. It was the most welcoming crowd I’ve ever been in. I always felt uplifted.

The kora around the Great Stupa of Bhudhanath

Between morning and evening I usually wrote and did some shopping.

Getting cleaned up at the street-corner barber next to the Shechen Monastery

In five days I went on just two outings: to Kopan monastery, 3 miles away, and to the UNICEF World Heritage city of Bhaktapur, 10 miles away.

Pottery Square in the preserved town of Bhaktapur

On June 5th I began the journey home with a 90 minute flight to New Delhi, a fourteen hour flight to Newark, New Jersey, and a 60 minute flight in a puddle jumper to Dulles Airport in Virginia.

It was good to be home.

Plaque at Kopan Monastery

My 29-30 Back to Kathmandu

We left Tingri in the early afternoon and headed west on the paved road that stretches from the Nepalese border to Lhasa and beyond.

After three hours we passed through Nyalam where we had begun our acclimatization to high altitude 22 days before. From there is was just 38 kilometer (and a drop of 4000 feet) down the mountain to the border town of Zengmu.

At the Chinese border station

We stayed in small hotel and were out early in an attempt to be near the front of the line when the Chinese border station opened in the morning. Several groups of Indian tourists seemed to have made it out even earlier.

Friendship Bridge -- China on the right, Nepal on the left

Even leaving the country , the Chinese border staff scanned our bags and carefully  hand-checked them. They were particularly interested in  my little computer. They asked whether I had Tibetan documents on it and asked to see any photos I had on it. I showed them a file with photos from the blog, and after a few minutes they lost interest and told me to pack it up.

On the Nepalese side, the only concern seemed to be that we had valid visas. I needed a new 15 day visa — $25 in U.S. currency.

Our tour agency had arranged for a bus to bring our group and our Sherpa cooks back to Kathmandu.

Tour buses loading on on the Nepalese side

By late afternoon we arrived in the Kathmandu suburb of Boudhanath,  where we had started. I was grateful to be back at the Shechen Monastery Guesthouse: a comfortable room with an attached bath, a vegetarian restaurant, smiling staff, and wifi when they had electrical power.

Shechen Monastery, Boudhanath

May 28 — Tingri and the cave of Machik Labdron

Mt Everest from the main street of Tingri

Our schedule called for an overnight trip to the Chinese Everest Base Camp. (Everest is on the border, so there is also a Nepalese Everest Base Camp.) Though it was less than 30 miles away, the trip required a several-hour drive over very rough roads. The main attraction was a closer look at Mt. Everest. Half of us decided we had enough car time and would rather stay in Tingri.

Local transport on market day in Tingri (Timothy photo)

Fortuitous circumstances then came together. Patrick works as a volunteer at Machik, a Tibetan development organization based in Washington, D.C. (My daughter, Juliana, also worked there as an intern, and one of the founders spoke a year ago at the Still Water Mindfulness Practice Center.) Machik is named after Machik Labdron, a beloved 12th century Tibetan woman teacher, known especially for teaching laypeople practices that helped them reduce self-centeredness and attain Emptiness. Our guide grew up near Tingri and mentioned to Patrick that there was a cave/shrine near Tingri where Machik had lived and taught for several years. Though our guide went with the group to Everest Base Camp, his brother was a monk at a nearby temple and could show our driver the way.

Off we went, away from the main road towards the mountains. We traveled on tracks through the sand, pass several villages, and seemingly backwards in time. We passed people on horseback, herds of goats and sheep, and patches of barley growing in what looked like irrigated rice paddies. We parked the Land Cruiser and hiked up a valley to a set of adobe buildings on a hillside. The nearby hilltops had very old ruins, perhaps of fortresses or monasteries. (Like Tsaparang, this was an area where irrigation was possible, and thus a year-round settlement could thrive.)

The outside of the Machik cave/shrine

A young man had come from the nearby village with a key and opened the shrine building for us. Inside were lit butter lamps, thankas, and a variety of ritual objects. Nothing elaborate. Nothing official. It was simply a shrine the local people had maintained in memory of Machik Labdron for perhaps 800 years. 

Inside the cave/shrine (Timothy photo)

As I looked out from the shrine/cave at the enormous vista, I felt nourished by the view that had nourished Machik Labdron so many years ago.

The view from the cave/shrine (Timothy photo)

May 26-27 — The Long Drive

From Darchen we begin the long drive back toward paved roads, the border, and Kathmandu. May 26 is a nine-hour drive to Trongba. May 27 is a 10 hour drive from Trongba to Tingri. We drive through beautiful desert valleys, with constantly changing colorations and views. However, the ride itself is physically numbing. About ninety percent of the journey is through a road construction project, so each minute or two we shift from gravel road, to rocky detour, to an improvised road through the desert.

The changing desert (Gabriele photo)

Periodically my thoughts move to the lives of the hundreds of workers building the road. Though some heavy equipment is used, much of the work is done by  laborers shoveling sand, placing large rocks, delivering wheelbarrows of cement, and other manual tasks. Most are young. Many are female. They seem to be a mix of Tibetan and Chinese. I was told by our guides that they work 12 hour days. Often they smile and wave as we pass. (Looking through my pictures, and the pictures of others, I’m amazed how few pictures there are of the road-workers. Even though they were an almost constant presence, I think we all felt it was somehow intrusive to photograph them.)

One of the few pictures of road workers (Timothy photo)

An interesting moment occurred on our way to Trongba. We had pulled off the road to have a simple picnic lunch by a stream. Several hundred feet from us a canopy had been set up with chairs underneath, and a few feet away a white-coated chef appeared to be working on a meal. Several minutes later six speeding Land Cruisers, their horns blazing, pull up to the canopy.

We continued eating our beans and rice chapatis, and, after a while, a few members of the new group walked over to us. They were young, smartly dressed Chinese carrying cameras with large telephoto lens. We exchanged the usual questions: Where are you from? What are you doing here? Apparently they all worked for a company in Shanghai and the owner had decided to take his staff of 17 on a road trip through Tibet. The ones who had come over were articulate in English — one young woman had a masters from Stanford — but they didn’t seem to know much about Tibet.  (For example, they knew little about the cultural and spiritual significance of Mt. Kailash, where they would go in several days.)

It seemed like for them, we were very interesting exotica: a scruffy group of Americans, Germans, and Japanese Buddhist on a pilgrimage through western Tibet. As if to emphasize this, a few minutes into our exchange four Tibetan women carrying children walked close by our group, apparently looking for hand-outs of food or money. The Chinese stepped back and raised the cameras to record the interactions. (Accustomed to being subjects, we were now objects.)

A head-scratching translation on the main street of the town of Saga.

May 25 — Back to Darchen

We wake to a below freezing morning. I huddle in my sleeping bag as long as I can. After breakfast, we break camp and  in small groups pick up the pilgrim trail. We follow the trail near a river and in the distance can see a wide plain, where we turn right to head back to Darchen.  Compared to the previous two days of walking, the first three hours of walking is easy, a gradual descent with a few small ascents — and many majestic views. Mainly I walk alone, aware of my body and breath. Occasionally I smile with amazement at the unanticipated series of life-events that have brought me here.

The trail back to Darchen

The end of  the kora is something of a let down.  After the transfer point where the yaks trains are met by trucks, the trial turns into a dusty road with a strong head wind. At a fork in the road I am uncertain which one to choose, so I stand and wait for a group of Tibetan pilgrims to catch up to me, then follow along with them for the next twenty minutes. They seem to understand what I am doing, smile kindly, and invite me to sit with them when they stop for a rest.

The final approach to Darchen is especially grim: the area appears to be an unregulated dump strewn with glass, metal, and plastic.

Gritty Darchen, with Mt. Kailash in the background

Everyone in our group finishes the kora: some quicker, some slower, some with the help of a horse or a truck.

There is a confusion about our rooms. The guide finds an alternative, another Tibetan guesthouse — the nine of us will sleep in a room with eight beds.

During our afternoon in Darchen, everyone in the group visits the Chinese-run bath house, which advertises “God-healing water.” Somehow they produce vast quantities of hot water with a solar heater — it is appreciated.

May 24 — Droma La / Tara Pass

We wake with a sprinkling of snow on the tents and ice crystals in our water bottles. The snow has also given the north face of Mt. Kailash a new look.

We set off at nine for the Droma La / Tara Pass, the highest point on the kora. At 18,600 feet it is 2400 feet above Dirapuk Monastery.  The trail we are told, ascends steeply, flattens out for a while, then ascends again very steeply. The views are wonderful: the powerful presence of Mt. Kailash is available for much of the way. For me, it is a very hard climb. Again my heart aches. It is not racing, but rather simply trying to get enough oxygen. Every few minutes I stop and rest, learning again my poles. I try every remedy or aid I can think of: the altitude medication Diomax, some gly-coramin squares another pilgrim has given me, honey-based energy bar from home, lots of water.

A glacier pack just before the pass

I just keep pushing on. After five hours of walking I reach the pass. I join with other pilgrims in throwing up in the air a small pack of papers with blessings on them, thanking the gods for allowing me to make it safely this far.

The celebration upon reaching the pass

Then I unroll my prayer flags. Seemingly everyone brings prayer flags. I tie them between two rocks already festooned with flags and think of the many people I want to send blessing to.

After a half hour enjoying the festivities of each new group attaining the pass, I begin the descent. It is a steeper and rockier trail, requiring more attention than the ascent. Three and a half hours later, I descend into a gentle valley. There is a small tent tea house there and I meet up with five of the slower walkers from our group. We are all exhausted.

After hot noodles and other refreshments, we learn from our guide that out camp is several more hours away.  “Just stay on the left bank of the river,” he says.

Yaks with our bags. (Four yaks for the tents and kitchen, two yaks for our sleeping bags and duffles.

I begin walking again at 5:45.  The trail is easy and after an hour I begin to look for our encampment. Probably over the next hill or just beyond where the river turns right and is out of view. Hope after hope is dashed. Nothing to do but keep walking.  Three hours later there is still no camp in site. Part of me wants to complain or argue, but it makes no sense. The only thing that makes sense is being with my breath and my body and moving on. I walk for a few minutes, stop to breathe, and walk again

After the tea house, on the (seemingly) endless walk.

Finally around 9 pm, just as it is getting dark, I see the blue tents. I make it to camp by 9:20, have a bowl of soup, and am quickly in bed and asleep. One wonderful and exhausting day.

The elusive camp

May 23 — Dirapuk Monastery

We have a free day before climbing over Drolma Pass. While most of the others go off to explore a glacier at the base of Mt. Kailash, I stay at camp to write. Then late in the morning I walk up to the monastery.

Dirapuk Monastery (Gabriele photo)

I gravitate to a cave at the back of the monastery and sit quietly on the side of the small cave for 40 minutes. I try to still my mind and feel the energy of the place. No words, memories, or images come to me. However, without thinking about it, I begin to say blessings for the well being of my family, my community, the people in my life, and for all sentient beings. I repeat the blessings over and over, wishing that specific individuals and groups may be well, happy, and peaceful. Saying the blessings just feels right and my spirits are buoyed up by it.

Later in the day most of our group goes together to the monastery. Again I gravitate to the cave, however this time I notice there is a sign, in surprisingly good English, not far from from the entrance doorway.  The sign notes that in 1215 Master Gotsampa found the cave and began three years of practice in it. Since then it has been continuously used as a practice site by the Dakpo-Kagyupa sect.  It is said that Master Gotsampa answers all wishes for health, longevity, and wealth. “For this reason it is important for pilgrims to pray for the well being of all sentient beings at this wonderful site.”

I return to the monastery several more times during the afternoon, so sit in the cave and to sit with the monks who are chanting for the day. I feel honored by the head monk who noticed that I had come several times and motioned for me to sit down on the bench reserved for monks.

Dirapuk Monastery towards the back, our tents to the left, in the foreground is a lodging for Hindu pilgrims

By dinner time there is a light snow and a cold wind.

View of Mt. Kailash from our tents (Timothy photo)

May 22 — The Kora begins

We start off with first light, about 8 am. We follow a river stream up a wide valley. Initially, it is a very gradual ascent. We walk silently. I settle into my steps and my body. I call to mind individual people in my life, in my family, in the Still Water community, old friends, and ask them to walk with me for a while.

Starting the kora (Gabriele photo)

I pick up two stones as I approach a cairn and place them on top in memory of my parents.

As I walk I think again about the bad karma/ negative energy I carry with me in this life: the irrational fears, the pettiness, the insecurities. I think about the role the play in my life, how they came to be, what it would mean to let them go.

At the Saga Dawa pole, Mt. Kailash in background (Gabriele photo)

After several hours, however, my attention turns from the spiritual to the physical. I am now walking at close to 16,000 feet and my heart is struggling to get the oxygen it needs. I walk a few minutes, then stop and breathe for 10 or 20 breaths, then walk a few more minutes. The trail here is not difficult (much easier than the trek in Nepal), there is no significant discomfort in my feet, legs, or back, but my heart hurts. It is not racing — it stays at about 120 beats per minute. It just hurts. For a few minutes I entertain thoughts about how messy it would be to have a cardiac event at Mt. Kailash, then realize that these thoughts are not helpful.

Twice during the day we have the opportunity to stop at “tea houses,” large tents that Tibetan families have set up that offer butter tea, soft drinks, noodle soup, and a few other items.

I stop at each and am grateful to sit for a few minutes and talk with some of the others in our group. At the second stop I take a half of a Diomax (an altitude sickness prevention medicine). When I start walking again, my heart hurts less, though it is still struggling to give me oxygen.

I walk by myself and just keep moving, following the river on my left and Mt. Kailash on my right. Periodically I stop and lean on my walking sticks and marvel at the quiet beauty of the land and the majesty of Mt. Kailash.

The long trail (Gabriele photo)

Nine and a half hours after we started walking, I arrive at our encampment, beautifully situated near the Dirapuk Monastery. I lie quietly in my tent for two hours, until dinner, then after dinner go right to bed.

May 21 — Darchen (Great Flag)

After 8 hours of driving we arrive in the village of Darchen (altitude of 15, 100 feet), the starting and ending point for the Mt. Kailash Kora (circumambulation).

The town is pretty bleak: two or three wide unpaved streets and trash strewn everywhere.  There are Tibetan guest houses, a few “supermarkets” selling general supplies, and many tents and strore-fronts selling practical goods (walking sticks, gloves, lighters) and religious goods (prayer flags, incense, katas).

Darchen (Gabriele photo)

For me, the high point was a Chinese public bath house which had 8 small rooms, each with a shower and a changing area.

The low point, again, was trying to get an internet connection. Apparently, the internet store-front from last year had not re-opened. One of the guest houses kept promising internet, but could not provide it.

More lessons in letting go.

In the evening our group makes practical plans for the kora (timing, a buddy system) and talks about the inner kora (or transformation) that accompanies the outer kora (the actual walking).

May 19, 20 — The Guge Kingdom

With an early start, we drive Northwest for about 140 miles. Aside from the workers on the road (it seems all the roads we travel on are being rebuilt), we see few people, settlements, or other vehicles. It is a rocky road through seemingly desolate landscapes.  We pass over an almost 17,000 foot pass and then descend several thousand feet into an area that reminds me of the the desert near Albuquerque, New Mexico.

(If you look at a map, we are almost at the edge of Tibet, 1200 miles west of Lhasa, at the place where northern Nepal and India meet at the China/Tibet border.)

We have come here because in the 10th to 17th century this part of Tibet was home to the Guge Kingdom, then one of the most powerful force in Tibet and the neighboring area. (One source said it controlled an area of 100,000 square kilometers,)  In Tibetan history, the Guge kingdom is known as the primary promoter of the second diffusion of Buddhism in Tibet (after its persecution by Lang Darma). Numerous Buddhist monasteries and temples were constructed, first in the capital of Tholing, then later in Tsaparang.

Our group at the official entrance to the ruins of Tsaparang

Then in the 17th century it all collapsed — some cite the divisiveness caused by the presence of a Jesuit mission as the precipitating cause. An army from Ladakh overran and sacked the kingdom. For hundreds of years the buildings sat there abandoned. Lama Govinda came through in 1948 and made sketches and photographs of many of the remaining paintings and sculptures. Sadly, most were destroyed in the next twenty years by the Red Army and the Cultural Revolution. Later, in the 1980s, what remained was recognized by China as a cultural treasure. Now it is a national heritage park.

Looking down into the ruins

We stay for a day and half, climbing over the ruins of what was once a whole city with royal compounds, monasteries, and places for workers and administrators. Care-takers unlock for us the once richly decorated temples. I feel privileged to have this window into history.

The way up to the top of the ruins

May 18 — to Tirthapuri

I wake up feeling better and after breakfast climb with others to Chiu (Little Bird) Monastery. The monastery clings to a pinnacle that reminds me of the Chapel of St. Michel in Le Puy En Velay, France.

Chiu Monastery on the hill

From near the Monastery, one has magnificent views of Lake Manasavorar and the surrounding peaks, and also a great sense of calm. With some Tibetan women I walk three times around a large collection of prayer stones, prayer wheels, and stupas.

Tibetan Pilgrims at Chiu Monastery

Mani / prayer stones at Chiu Monastery

After lunch, we drive several hours Northwest to Thirthapuri, the third most important pilgrimage site in Western Tibet (after Mt. Kailash and Lake Manasavorar). We walk for about 90 minutes around the site, which has a Temple built about a cave where Guru Rinpoche lived in the 9th century and massive collections of prayer stones.

Tirthapuri site

I talk with our guide about the prayer or mani stones. Most often they are inscribed with the mantra “om mani padme hum,” “The precious jewel in the heart of the lotus,” which is a metaphor for enlightenment. The whole mantra may be on one stone, or it may be spread out across four or more adjacent stones. Sometimes the stones are brought here, and sometimes pilgrims camp and prepare and inscribe the stones on site. It is also possible to make a donation to someone else to prepare mani stones for you.

Long wall of Mani Stones at Tirthapur

We spend the night in a small town near Tirthapuri and after dinner have a discussion about Tibetan, Theravadan, and Mahayana conceptions of reincarnation.

May 17 — Trugo Monastery to Chiu Monastery

We travel by Land Cruiser further along Lake Manasarovar. Unfortunately, much of the day is a blur to me. I wake up with an upset stomach and hot and cold flashes. It may have been something we ate as at least three people in the group have similar symptoms. We all throw up in the afternoon and begin feeling better.

May 16 — Cranes on the shore

We have a day without driving or a program. Again I am drawn to the lake and spend several hours walking along the shore. There are many large water birds, including ducks, geese, and a bird that looks like a sea gull, plus a magnificent pair of cranes.

Favorite photo: cranes, lake, and Mt. Kailash

All the birds are skittish. I take a picture from a distance. Walk six steps closer. Take another picture. Repeat the procedure until the birds back away or fly away.

As I walk I sometimes think about purification, which is a core part of pilgrimage. I think about the negative karma that is in my life, that has come from my culture, my upbringing, and the many poor/self-centered choices I have made in my life.

I think about how different my sense of self is not from the person I was in 1989 when mindfulness practice first entered my life at Suan Mokh Monastery in southern Thailand.

Walking back to our encampment, I stop at the Trugo Monastery and walk three times around the courtyard, spinning the prayer wheels. The thought comes to me, “What I need to do is not complicated: Embody love, express joy, for the sake of all beings.”

Courtyard at Trugo Monastery

May 15 — Seralung to Trugo Monastery

The day is warmer, less overcast. In the morning I walk for an hour along the shoreline, much of it in the company of Tibetan pilgrims who are intermittently collecting seaweed. (There are many fewer pilgrims now than there will be in several weeks, after Saga Dawa, the celebration of Buddha’s birthday.)

We continue our journey around Lake Manasarovar. I catch a ride with our supply truck for 5 miles, and then get out to walk to our encampment some distance ahead.

I walk alone along the shore, not a sign of people or cars, just the whispering of the wind.

The views are gorgeous.  Deep blue to turquoise water, blue skies, sandy hills, snow capped peaks in the background.

Along Lake Manasarovar

My heart feels open. I begin to sing to myself “Gonna lay down my sword and shield, down by the riverside,” and I tear up. I don’t know why. Maybe because it is a song about renunciation and transformation.

After an hour I realize this is not an easy walk.  The altitude — 15,000 feet — is getting to me, and also the strong sun.

I continue on and take a path through brush covered sand dunes. Collections of beautiful red prayer stones have been placed facing Mt. Kailash in neat squares.

Prayer stones -- Most read "Om mani padma hum" It is a mantra honoring Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion

After three hours of walking I arrive at our encampment next to the Trugo monastery. Because our tents are all hot and exposed to the sun, I seek the peace and coolness of the monastery. I sit by myself in a shady part of the small monastery courtyard.

Our camp: sleeping tents, dining tent, cooking tent, and supply truck

May 14 — The Ocean of Peace

While others in our group walk over a hill to see some hot springs, I take a solitary walk along Lake Manasarovar, The Ocean of Peace.

When I start at about 10 am it is overcast and quite cold — about 20 degrees Farenheit — with a wind off the lake. I am totally alone for two hours. Our guide was concerned about dogs and advised me to be fierce if dogs approached. I carry a walking stick and put rocks in my pocket to throw at the dogs — the typical strategy used by Tibetans and one which the dogs are used to.

Frozen socks on the clothes line

I walk slowly. There are no people, no dogs, but many birds: orange-breasted Brahminy ducks, bar-necked geese, and many smaller birds. A primordial stillness at 15,000 feet. (It is said to be the highest lake on the planet.)

Lake Manasarovar, The Ocean of Peace, with Mt. Kailash in the background

We have been talking about the meaning of the Mt. Kailash pilgrimage. In ancient Indian mythology Mt. Meru, (or Mt. Sumeru) was considered the metaphysical center of the universe. The place where the male energy (Lingam) joined with the female energy (Yoni) to create the 84 trillion manifestations. At some point in history Mt. Kailash, the source of four of Asia’s greatest rivers, was identified as the mythical Mt. Meru. A pilgrimage to Mt. Kailash is a way of going back to the undifferentiated source, before duality. Mt. Kailash represents the unborn center of the mind/universe, a state of bliss and freedom.

To approach the source is to transcend our attachment to the five aggregates, to let go of ego attachments. The pilgrimage is a physical journey and a mental journey.

As I walk I think about the ego attachments, the negative karma, I would like to let go of. I think about my father’s anger and discontent; my mothers shame and passivity. I think about my own pride, insecurities, and sense of entitlement.

Then I let it all go and bring myself back to the present moment: to the wind against my chest, my pounding heart, the birds, the calming waters.

Brahminy Duck ( also known as the Ruddy Shelduck)

Late at night I go out to pee and am awed by brilliant stars and the Milky Way.

May 13 — First views of Mt. Kailash

Overnight the temperature drops: there is a half inch of ice in the water basin.

Another long day of driving. Endless detours.

This is big sky country: immense landscapes. In some valleys there is sparse rangeland and we see herds of sheep, goats, and yak. I also spot some chiwas — marmot-like mammals.

In the afternoon we reach a view point from which we can see lake Manasarovar and Mt. Kailash. I follow the Tibetan custom and do three prostrations and three circumambulations (koras) of the prayer flags.  Afterwards I feel revived and more centered.

First view of Mt. Kailash: the pyramid shaped snow-capped peak in the distance

In the 12th century Milarepa wrote of Mt. Kailash: “This is a place in the Himalayas where once can barter the vortex of life for endless bliss.”

We drive about six miles further to the Seralung monastery guesthouse, where we will stay for two days.

May 12 — To Trongba

Our departure is delayed because of a frozen fuel line in our support truck. At first they try hot water on the line and manually priming the carburetor. That didn’t work — then I watch in horror as the light a fire under the fuel tank.  I stand back.  There is diesel fuel on the ground and the truck driver is smoking as he works on the fuel line.

The fire under the fuel tank

Somehow it all works out. Thirty minutes later we are on our way.

Our destination is Trongba, about 200 kilometers (120 miles) away. Normally it takes 5 to 6 hours, however it takes us 9 hours of dusty, bumpy, driving. The Chinese are rebuilding the road for the next 1000 kilometers (600 miles) and their approach seems to be to first cut the culverts and pour concrete for the bridges — along the whole expanse. We drive for about a minute on the road, detour down and around for a minute or two, then are back on the road for another minute.

Lunch on the road

We arrive at Trongba mentally and physically numbed from the journey.

May 11 — Off the paved road

We leave Nyalam on a paved highway that goes to Lhasa and then all the way to Shanghai: the first kilometer markers out of Nyalam was 5379 (3300 miles).

Our caravan: three Toyota Land Cruisers and a support truck

We pass over Pang Pass, a prayer flag festooned pass at 16,600 feet. A Tibetan pilgrim gives me grain to throw in the air: a celebration that we have made it to the pass with incident.

On Pang Pass

An hour later we turn left onto a dirt road — no more paved roads for 20 days.

We stop in the late afternoon at Pelku Tso at a Tibetan motel.  It is simple to the extreme: no electricity, no running water, a simple latrine on the other side of the highway. We occupy one large room with ten couches/beds.

Our Tibetan "motel"

Inside our room

In the evening there was a fierce dust storm, however by morning the wind had died down and the views were spectacular.

May 9, 10 — Nyalam

We stay in the village of Nyalam for three nights in a small house leased by Snow Jewel, our Nepalese travel agency. This gives us time to begin acclimating to the altitude — we are at about 14,000 feet — and to get to know each other as a group.

The seed of our pilgrimage to Mt. Kailash first sprouted 25 years earlier when Bhante Rahula, an American Theravadan monk with a long history of traveling in the Himalayas, conceived of making the journey. A year or so ago it seemed that conditions were favorable and Bhante Rahula began contacting students and friends of his, asking if they might be interested in going with him. Thus our group was formed. Four of Bhante’s students came from Germany: Claus and Myako (his Japanese wife), Stefan, and Gabriella. One came from the U.S.: Noriko, of Japanese origin, but now an American citizen. Patrick is a decades-long friend of Bhante Rahula and a board member of The Bhavana Society in West Virginia where Bhante lived for 23 years.  Last November, when several people hoping to go dropped out, Bhante Rahula invited Patrick to talk with a few other compatible people about joining the group. Patrick called Timothy (a friend from New York), and myself, and we both signed on.

I first met Patrick in 1973 through the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, and we had kept in touch through the years. Also, about that time I first met Bhante Rahula at The Bhavana Society (though we had not kept in touch).

Our group, left to right, Mitchell, Claus, Gabriela, Timothy, Patrick, Bhante, Myako, Stefan, Sonam (guide), Norbu (truck driver) -- Noriko taking the picture

In Nyalam we established some routines. Those who wished to sat in meditation with Bhante Rahula for 40 minutes or so in the morning and evening. Bhante offered a meal blessing in Pali with breakfast and I offered the five contemplations meal blessing in English over dinner. Often after dinner we talked about the next days events, or shared our understanding of the spiritual significance of things we were encountering. (We were something of an odd group in that while many of us had extensive experience with Buddhist practice, no one had Tibetan practice as their primary focus.)

During our two days in Nyalam we also explored the surroundings. At the far edge of the town was a cave of great importance to Tibetan history: in the 12th century Milarepa, a great saint and teacher, lived in the cave for several years.

Inside Milerepa's cave

My special encounter was with the local internet shop. Most often it was filled with young Tibetans or Chinese playing internet computer games. The proprietor allowed me in his tiny office to hook up my small computer directly with an ethernet cable. I had a connection, but it was so slow, especially for uploading photos to my blog, that I spent 90 percent of my time waiting. I despaired of being able to stay in touch with people.  Then I remembered there was an indirect way to update the blog through email, which would not require me to communicate with the WordPress site directly. With a little work I figured it out. I could simply set up the entry as an email (off line, whenever and wherever I wanted), with the title in the subject line, and WordPress did the rest by itself. I was pleased.

The long gap in updates explained

Dear Ones,

The expansiveness and isolation of western Tibet far exceeded my expectations. Once we left the Kathmandu to Lhasa paved road, for the next twenty days there were endless miles of uninhabited deserts, no internet (rarely even electricity), and no indoor plumbing. Fascinating, beautiful, difficult.

Now I’m back in Kathmandu, exhausted and happy. Almost all the daily blog entries are already written.  I’ll send them along as soon as I can.

Also, there were some problems with some of the earlier posts send directly through email — sections were dropped — so I will be correcting those, too. If you get updates by emails you may see some you have seen before.

The picture below is on the last day of walking about Mt. Kailash.

Warm wishes,

Mitchell

On the Mt. Kailash Kora

May 8 — Into Tibet

We leave Kathmandu early — 4 a.m — to avoid the Maoists demonstrations. Tourists are supposed to have safe passage, but the driver wants to avoid the hot spots, anyway. Because of the strike, there are very few cars on the road and we make good time to the border.

On the Nepalese side of the border we fill out a simple five question form in a crowded, dingy room. On the Chinese side it is like security at a American airport. Everything is polished. There is a machine overhead to take the temperatures of people as they enter: a swine flu prevention. Security guards both scan our bags and search them by hand, paying special attention to our printed material. The guard looks carefully at my Trekking in Tibet book, and then puts it back.

On the Chinese side of the border we met up for the first time with the vehicles we will be using and the rest of our support team. For the nine of us traveling we have four vehicles: three Toyota Land Cruisers and a truck to carry large bags, food supplies for 23 days, tents, and a very simple portable kitchen. Each of the vehicles has come from Lhasa with a driver from a partner travel agency, plus a guide has come with them from Lhasa to handle the many practical problems we may encounter and to offer translations. Additionally two Sherpas have come with us from Kathmandu. (Sherpas are a Tibetan speaking Nepalese ethic group.) They will be our cooks and support staff when we camp.

Once we are over the border, we wait several more hours in Zhangmu for the special permits we will need for our trip to Mt. Kailash and other special security areas..

Then we drive up the mountain. In several hours we rise from 8000 to 13,000 feet, leaving the wet, high jungle on the west for the dry Tibetan Plateau.

upthemt

nyalam

May 7 – The Tourist Express

A bus does come. It is quickly filled by tourists, guides, and a few Nepali, including our hostess and her two children. We make a stop at a shop down the road where a large, bilingual, “Tourists Only” banner has been made for the front of the bus.

An hour or so later, we make another stop in Dunche, another trekking base, where another large group of tourists and Nepali get on. The bus is now stuffed with many people riding on the roof.

As we pass through small towns on our way to Kathmandu, there are often blockade lines of Maoists. When they see our banner, they smile, wave, and part for us to pass.

Six hours later we are dropped off on the outskirts of Kathmandu. The army checkpoint apparently advised the driver to go no farther.

With our backpacks we walk through a vehicle-less Kathmandu. We are guided by a monk who is going, as we are, to Boudhanath. Two hours later, at about 6 pm, I arrive at my guest house. The meeting with Roger, our Tibet tour organizer, was scheduled for 6:30, gets started at 7, and ends at 9. Roger tells us that because of the strike, we will leave by bus at 4 am. I have enough time for dinner, repacking for Tibet, and three hours sleep.

May 6 — God laughs

We are still in Syabrubasi. Over and over jeeps and buses were promised and expected, and none appeared.

There is an old expression: Man plans and God laughs.

In the morning a group of stuck foreigners go as a delegation to the head of the police, to ask for their help. New promises.

TV images from Kathmandu and other cites show outbursts of violence. In some cities there are counter demonstrations.

— The restaurant, lobby, and family room of our guest house –

We wait. I spent part of the day discussing Dharma topics with Bhante Rahula. Another part of the day I play cards with our host family.

People try to work their connections. The Nepalese guide calls the head of the Nepali Trekking Association to ask for help getting a jeep or bus. Instead he is offered a helicopter: $6000 for 20 people.

I call Roger, our Tibet tour operator in Kathmandu to advise him of our situation and ask if there is anything he can do. An hour later he calls back and tells us he can do nothing.

The hotel operator tells us he has arranged for a special bus for tourists that will come in the morning and it will cost 2000 rupies ($28) each. We shall see.

May 5 — Waiting for the Jeep

May 5 — Waiting for the Jeep
Eight a.m., no jeep comes. We are told another jeep left later and will come at 3 pm. No jeep. We are told the drivers are afraid to drive because of the general strike. We and perhaps 15 other trekkers in Syabrubesi are in limbo. Some are concerned about international flights. We have our briefing for our Tibet trip at 3 pm on the 6th.

— View of the Syabrubesi main street ____

Nothing to do but wait. We are well-taken care of by the staff/family in our small guest house. We spent much of the day in a a 20 by 20 foot space that is the guest house reception area, kitchen, restaurant, and family room. We watch television and talk about the strike. Krishna, a Nepalese guide who is accompanying a French mother and adult son helpfully translates for us.

May 4 — Back to Syabrubesi

May 4 — Back to Syabrubesi

We set off from the village of Lama Hotel at 7:30 am. After 30 minutes the roller-coaster begins again. Even coming down, with a lighter pack, it is tough. I take my time, taking pictures and occasionally talking with people coming up.

I talk for fifteen minutes with two Tibetan teen-agers who seem happy to try out their English. Their school in Syabrubesi, at the bottom of the mountain, has been closed because of the general strike and they are walking up to their small village. Both are orphans and living with their grandparents. To my surprise, they have email accounts. (If you know of any young girls who would like a Nepalese-Tibetan email pen pal, please let me know.)

A few minutes after talking with the girls I hear rustling in the trees above me. A black-faced monkey crosses over the path, soon followed by ten or so others, including babies clinging to their mothers.

—Air flower – no roots to the ground –

Eight and a half hours after starting out I arrive exhausted at our hotel in Syabrubesi.

We are told the public buses are still not running. The hotel owner offers to arrange for a special jeep to come from Kathmandu for the five people in our group. Hew will leave Kathmandu at midnight and arrive by eight in the morning. We agree.

May 3 — Down the mountain

May 3 — Down the mountain
Our plan is to walk down in two days the trail we walked up in three days. On the way down I am more aware of the changing vegetation: larger trees and more variety.

At the village of Thansap the owner of the restaurant wants Bhante Rahula to chant for him. For six months he has been attacked by monsters in his dreams and feels great pressure on his chest. There is a shrine at the far side of the kitchen. Bhante kneels and offers several Pali chants for his health.

At the moment there is a tense and complicated political situation in Nepal. The Maoist Party, which is the largest political party with one third of the electors, has declared an indefinite general strike beginning on May 2. No vehicles are moving in or between the cities and small towns. Though it is said that the Maoists will make exceptions for vehicles carrying tourists.

Our plan was to take the regular bus back to Kathmandu on May 4th.  We shall see.

img 1943

marley

May 2 – Kyanjin Gompa

The third day of walking is through alpine meadows with distant views of snow-capped peaks. Often I am totally alone with no humans in sight, no sound but the river and the wind. I feel peaceful and alive and very fortunate to be here.

May 1 — The Going is Easier

May 1 — The Going is Easier

Over breakfast, Bhante Rahula and I accept our age limitations — he is 61 and I am almost 65 — and discuss hiring a porter to carry some of the weight from our back packs. The guest-house owner sends someone to inquire in the village, and within ten minutes minutes a young man appears. His name is Dorje, he is home from high school in Kathmandu, and he agrees to carry a pack for us for four days, at a cost of $15 per day, the high side of the going rate.

The trail up

:

One of several suspension bridges

With less weight to carry, the going is much easier. Also the trail is easier, with a more gradual ascent and fewer ups and downs. The scenery is different too, with mountain views rather than a jungle canopy. I walk alone, taking my time, enjoying the views and an occasional tea stop.

Mountain view

After another long (nine hour) but less brutal day of waking, I meet up with Bhante Rahula at a guest house in Langtang Village (The other, younger, members of our group have gone ahead further up the mountain.)

Mountain Magnolia?

April 30 – Starting the Trek

Our plan is over several days to hike up from Syabrubesi, at 4,800 feet, to Kyanjin Gompa, at 12,600 feet.

At the beginning we are in a jungle forest with lots of bamboo, ferns, moss, and hardwoods. There is just one path up the mountain, roughly parallel to the Langtang River, so there is little chance of getting lost.

Along with trekkers, there are locals coming and going, as well as porters carrying supplies to the guest houses and shops up the mountain. And also porters carrying packs, suitcases, and supplies for trekkers and mountain climbers. (One group of five Italian climbers had 30 porters with them, carrying food, supplies, tents, and a pizza oven.)

The hike is not easy for me. It is like a roller coaster, going down several hundred feet where a stream enters the Langtang river, then climbing back up again. But unlike a roller coaster, I am gaining altitude. Often during the difficult parts I do a focused walking meditation, aware of my steps and my breath. It helps me stay connected to my body and reduces my tendency to complain or think about how many more difficult parts are ahead. By the end of the day I am completely exhausted. I felt as if I had been climbing up and down stairs for seven of the last nine hours (two hours for lunch and rest stops).

Bhante Rahula and I stay overnight at the small village of Rimche. In the six room guest-house are a group of Adventists from Korea, a young Japanese couple, a Dutch mother with her two 20-year-old children, and a Canadian from Vancouver.

April 29 — To Langtang Park

Five of us are going off to Langtang National Park for conditioning hikes before Tibet. The group includes Bhante Rahula, Noriko, two German friends (Stefan and Werner), and myself.

We leave at 5 am to avoid some of the Kathmandu traffic. The first 40 miles go relatively easily and take two hours. The next 40 miles are on roads that only four-wheel drive vehicles, special buses with double wheels in back, and motorcycles can manage. It take seven hours. At about mile 60 the suspension in on Toyota Land Cruiser fails. The driver pulls to the side, takes out a bag of tools, and deftly takes the suspension apart and puts it back together.

Finally we arrive in the small town of Syabrubesi, a collection of hotels and stores mainly catering to park visitors. We cross the bridge to Old Syabrubesi, a village of Tibetan speakers, and spend the night in a simple guest house: the cost is about a dollar per person.

Ethnographic note: In the Nepal there are many ethnic groups, such as Sherpas, who speak a dialect of Tibetan and practice a form of Tibetan Buddhism, as well as many ethnic Tibetans who have lived in Nepal for centuries. Additionally there are many Tibetans in Nepal who left Tibet in the decades after the Chinese invasion of Tibet in the 1950s. Some were resettled in what is now Langtang park. There are also Nepalese ethnic groups, such as the Newari, many of whom are Buddhist and have their own distinct forms of religious practice.

April 27-28 Details

The people I am going with to Mount Kailash begin arriving in Kathmandu. The first three I meet are Bhante Rahula, an American who has been a monk in the Sri Lankan tradition for 35 years; Patrick, an old friend from Buddhist circles in Washington, D.C., and Noriko, a Japanese immigrant to the United States who has reoriented her life from computer programming to Buddhist practice.

Bhante Rahula, Noriko, Mitchell, and Patrick having lunch in a Tibetan restaurant in Kathmandu

For several days we are caught up in details: visas for China, permits for trekking in Nepal, supplies, arrangements, etc. We need to be in different parts of the city and Kathmandu is one of most difficult cities to manage: traffic is horrendous, roads are decaying, walking is difficult because of traffic, fumes, and dust. Add also open dumps and burning garbage. Not much fun.

Kathmandu traffic

April 26 – The Stupa in Boudhanath

On my own, back in Kathmandu. I move from my first hotel to the suburb of Boudhanath. The Stupa in Boudhanath is a very sacred place both for Tibetans and for Nepalese (who are 90+ percent Hindu). Especially in the morning and the evenings, many hundreds of people circle the Stupa: monks and nuns, families, young people, old people, Tibetans, Nepalese, and Westerners. The place is alive with myriad forms of spiritual practice, most of which I don’t understand: At one of the gates of the stupa I watch uncomprehending as a dozen monks and many lay people perform a ceremony in which they create a four-foot high mound of food offerings: rice, popcorn, grain, candy bars, all mixed together.

The Stupa in Boudhanath

The eyes of the stupa

Circling the stupa

April 24-25 — The Asura cave

The Asura caves are up in the hills, about an hour from Kathmandu, near the village of Pharping. One special cave is associated with Guru Rinpoche, the 8th century Indian Buddhist Scholar who brought Tantric Buddhism to Tibet. Some years ago the monastery was given to a renown Lama, Choky Nyma. It is now a practice center associated with the White Gompa in Boudhanath, near Kathmandu. The center in Boudhanath is primarily for study, the center in Pharping is for long term practice. Several westerners were there for solo retreats and a group of Tibetans were in the midst of a three year retreat.  — there was three-year retreats. My friend, Karma Gonpo, asked an old lama to bless my pilgrimage to Mount Kailash. He did a divination and told me I would face no major obstacles and that I should do Tara practice during my circumambulation.

[Out of Order Post -- Catching Up]

Dear Friends,

Sorry for the long pause. The national strike in Nepal stranded me in a Himalayan village for several days, with no transportation, computer, or internet. I got back to Kathmandu just in time to leave for Tibet, where I am now. Many stories to tell and pictures to share. I will as soon as I can.

Many Blessings.

Mitchell

April 23 — New Friends

The day’s outing began with the ambitious effort to find a house on my own, a 40-minute walk from the Vajra Hotel. All I had was the address (rewritten in Nepali by the hotel staff) and the vaguest of instructions: go to the stupa and turn left. I walked to the Stupa, and then bounced along, every five minutes walking up to someone and showing him or her the address. (It didn’t help that street names and numbers were all in Nepali script,)  Ten bounces later, and some decoding of Nepali numerals, I was at the house.

I had been invited for lunch by the sister of an old friend. The sister lived in Kathmandu with her husband, a retired American professor of Asian languages, and their two children.  The hostess was a expert in Newari women’s Buddhist practice. The other guests were a visiting cousin (who was also an experienced Tibetan practitioner), a good friend who directed public health projects in Nepal, and a visiting American-Cuban  woman who  practiced with a Tibetan lama and had been coming back and forth to Nepal for twenty years.

After the nourishing lunch I accepted a ride with the American-Cuban woman who offered to help me get oriented in Boundhanath, a suburb of Kathmandu that has a famous stupa and many Tibetan monasteries. Through a series of unexpected encounters, within an hour I received a blessing for safe travels on my pilgrimage to Mount Kailash from one of her lama, a safe-keeping amulet, and another blessing from Karma Gonpo, a monk who was in charge of a monastery an hour outside of Kathmandu.

Then, after a brief visit to the stupa, Karma Gonpo, the woman, and I set off on a series of errands.

First stop was a high end home furnishing store where the woman made the final arrangements and payments for a high-end kitchen she had bought for the senior monks residence at one of the monasteries.

Next stop was on the other side of Kathmandu, at the the workshop of a master sculptor. They were picking up two statues, a Buddha touching the earth for the lama, and a Maitreya Buddha the woman was taking back with her to Mexico. Both statues were refined and beautiful, especially the faces. The sculptor sat me down and, using pictures on his laptop, explained to me the stages and processes involved in making one of his statues. It was a lost wax process, but rather than working from a mold, the beeswax itself was sculpted and then covered with clay and rice hulls to create a form for the molten brass. Each sculpture was therefore unique, every feature created anew. I was touched by the obvious love the sculptor had for the ancient methods and for the resultant products.

We ended the day with a exquisite Nepalese meal and talked about the difficulties that sometimes arise when Westerners and Asians have different ideas about how things should be done. The gift of the kitchen had created a small drama.  I told them about Plum Village:  that Western lay people often focused on outcome — getting things done — and that the monastics often gave priority to process — maintaining harmony in the community. The beginning anew practice helped people understand the suffering that may be created by well-meaning people.

At the end of the evening I was invited to go along with my new friends the next door to a practice monastery an hour from Kathmandu, the Pema Ösel Ling Hermitage at the Asura Cave. I looked forward to continuing our discussions and also, to getting out of the congestion of Kathmandu.

April 22 – First Day – Swayambhu Stupa

Two hours after touching down I’m in my small “Trekker” room at the Vajra Hotel, a quiet cultural center just north of the main tourist area. After a shower and lunch I resist the temptation to nap and begin a 20 minute walk up the hill to the Bijeswori Temple Complex and the 2000-year-old Swayambhu Stupa. Descriptions of the hilltop all seem to note that it is one of the two “power places” of the Kathmandu Valley, the other being the Stupa at Boudnath.

After a final climb of what seemed to be a 1500 step stairway, I arrive at the hill top and look back down to a view of the now urbanized Kathmandu Valley.  Because of development and migration caused by a decades long Maoist insurgency, the Kathmandu Valley grew in 20 years from 300 thousand to 3 million (numbers very approximate).

Sywambhu view

The stupa and temple complex are bustling with tourists, locals, monks, and monkeys — and  temple dogs that are mainly dozing. Besides the views and the stupa, the complex is home to a number of temples and shrines. Swayambhu is especially associated with Newari Buddhism, an indigenous Nepalese variant of Buddhism which blends Mahayana, Tantric, and Animist practices. Nepal is also home to many who practice the Tibetan traditions, some whose families have lived in Nepal for many hundreds of years, and some who have joined the community as refugees. My inner compass leads me into the a small, ancient, Tibetan temple near the stupa where I sit for a restful half-hour listening to a single monk chant sutras and invite bells.

Monkeys grooming

By 8:30 pm I’m back at the hotel and sound asleep.

April 20-22 The Long Journey

My original ticket was to fly from Washington to Frankfort, then to New Dehli, then to Kathmandu.  Because of ash from the Icelandic volcano, it appeared that that would not be possible.  With luck I was able to get through to United Airlines, and with what later appeared to perhaps have been a mistake on their part, they agreed to reroute me through Dubai, then  Qatar, and then Kathmandu.

Taking off from an almost empty Dulles Airport on the evening of April 20, I noted that my original flight to Frankfort had indeed been cancelled.  I felt fortunate and blessed to be on my way.

Thirteen hours later I was in the Dubai airports, which contains a duty free area as large and as varied as a department store — a mind-numbing overflowing of luxury goods.

Dubai Airport / Shopping Mall

Another 14 hours later, after a short hop to Doha, Qatar, and then a long flight, I arrived travel -weary in Katmandu at 10 in the morning on April 22. (Which corresponded to 12:15 a.m East Coast time — Nepal being exactly 9 hours and 45 minutes ahead.)