Buddha, Dharma, Sangha

Introduction course to Buddhism and Meditation was ten days short. I had no prior experience with meditation and had only read one book called "The Art of Happiness" by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Dr. Howard Cutler. I was very excited to learn more about the philosophy that I had a positive feeling for.

Vipassana retreats that I knew about where you have to sit for 10 hours per day and meditate. I had felt this is too much too fast for me. This course however had semi relaxed rules. For 10 days one should not leave the territory of the institute nor have any form of virtual contact with the outside world (phone, email, books other than dharma ie Buddhist literature books). As from evening lesson until the lunch lesson the next day one should be silent. Between lunch and dinner, when one can talk, the subject should still be limited as much as possible to philosophical topics. Wake-up was at 6AM and day ended 7:45PM. Three meditations, two teachings and one discussion group per day.

Our group was 16 people, mostly above 25 years old. It was very nice to see and feel how almost everyone there is quite serious about learning and finding the essence of this course for themselves. I think on the second half of the course we really developed this nice group feeling and there was good energy. Our teacher was a monk from Israel, Ven Tingyal. Quite a serious guy mostly, but then sometimes showing a great sense of humour. 



It was really amazing to have this chance to take time to think things over with some new philosophical approach. Think about the values, the people around you and your own mind and behavior. I will not endevor to write down the Buddhist ideas that I learned or appealed to me the most. I already feel it quite risky when my friends or family here in Estonia ask me to explain some (which is quite natural request). Having so little insight I should not be giving teachings. So for sure I will not start writing things down here in black and white. But I did think that I'm very lucky to have met all these people throughout the previous year that have inspired me to get to this point where I'm sitting down on my meditation pillow in a Buddhist gompa and listening to teachings and meditating on the essence of things.

The ten days passed very quickly. I did not miss the outside world and facebook. In fact on the last day, when we were able to speak again and everyone started chatting so much, almost all of  us felt quite exhausted by the evening, the head buzzing. My flatmate Isabel and I decided we need to go to the gompa again to meditate before going to sleep. So we did so. And it was such a struggle to quiet the mind. On previous days I had of course sometimes thoughts popping up throughout the meditation session, but I was able to keep them on a short leash. Now, it was like sitting in an Indian train station at 5PM. Thoughts ramming each other and popping all over the place. I realised that keeping up the practice outside in the "real world" will be a challenge. But it is a challenge I want to tackle.

Train ticket

I entered the “Computerized Ticketing System” hall 8AM on 1st of December and had a warm welcome from 1000 Indians who were spread out in different queues everyone holding some paper in their hand. I observed for a while silently trying to figure out what’s the system. There was a big billboard with train schedule; there were some papers you could pick up. There was no white face to be found. No information point. 

A local (soon accompanied by another 6 curious locals) offered his help and explained me how to fill in the paper. Without it I would have failed immediately as on the billboard of the trains there was none that would have said train to “New Delhi”. Instead the correct one was “Purushottam Express”. How would I know that? Then I was guided to a back room and I managed to get a “special token number”. At the time I did not know it was a special token number. I got out and looked at the display with the current token number. I was 200 numbers  behind. I also could not figure out how to people choose the queue they are standing in. So I stood outside the queue for a while until another local started to chat up. Quite quickly he concluded that I should go out for about 3 hours so I don’t waste my time standing here. I did not like that perspective. Another local pointed out that I have a special token number and I should go and stand in the rightmost queue and that they will start serving those special token numbers at 10AM. 

This queue had only women. Well mostly. Women seemed to be hostile to any men that tried to enter this queue. As I was approaching the counter it started to get 10AM. Counter has a little round hole in the front glass and you mark your territory by putting your hand in the hole holding the filled in paper indicating who you are and which train you want to take. It was my turn! But I was told calmly that I need to wait a few minutes. I was impressed how calm the counter person was after having to have dealt with all those customers for a few hours already and still so many to come. Day after day. 

It was my turn and I heard what I had wanted to hear all those two hours: “Tickets are sold out”. I told that any train, for any price on the 11^th or 12^th December will do. “Only stand by tickets are available”. Then I asked him to explain the stand by tickets. Basically I have to come one day before to the train station and then there is a list of people who have been granted a train ticket. I wasn’t convinced. I emphasized again, that, please, any ticket, I don’t care which class, which price. Then he said that, well, if you want to pay 973 rupies, there is a ticket. I quickly calculated, that’s about 14 euros. He had told it in a voice which indicates that it would be like buying a villa in Switzerland. I don’t know what the II class ticket would be, but I guess just couple of euros. For me, to cover the distance of 1060 km, 14 euros  was fine.

Apparently this transaction was a special one, so he ordered that I had to come to the back room again. There I was standing hopefully while another counter officer was handling my request until he came up with the conclusion “There are no tickets available.” We had to go through the same explanation-pleading process again and finally his face lid up and I was ecstatic – I held in my hands a 3A class ticket to New Delhi. What a proud moment. I left the back room, looked with compassion to the big mass of people still waiting in the 7 queues and left. It was 11AM.

Journey from Kathmandu to Gaya

I had postponed my travel to India, but at some point the time ran out. I had to get to Bodh Gaya, which is just 500km away. It would be JUST 500km if it was Australia or Germany or US. In Nepal and parts of India the roads are following a different standard of course. I had read a warning on the web site of the Root Institute, where I was going, that part of the road is in extremely bad condition. And late at night travelling in the Bihar state is very dangerous.

So naturally I was very much looking forward to it. Actually almost the only preparation I had for that journey was to enjoy the last joint with Milan before I hit the road. He had organised me bus tickets and this is what I knew: take an overnight bus, then in Birgsanj, which is the border town I need to go to a specific hotel. They have my forward ticked from across the border to Bodh Gaya. Milan gave me an envelope with a beautifully handwritten letter, which explained who I am and how they should have a ticket for me. I was under strict orders not to lose that letter. Nor the leaflet of the hotel, because I need to find it the (but don't worry, it's easy:) So off I went like a ambassador of a king.

Milan explained to the bus driver as well, that I need to get to this and that hotel and maybe they can help me out. Entering the bus 7PM I decided to let go now of any sense of control and be ready for anything and everything.

4AM the man on the neighboring seat woke me up. We had arrived. He wanted to know where I need to go. I gave him the leaflet of the hotel. He didn’t say anything, just took it outside and I saw how he started to negotiate with the riksa drivers. Meanwhile I went to sit behind the bus driver and asked him if this hotel that I need to go to is close by and how do I get there? He just raised his hand showing the direction and said something in Hindi. Great. I went outside and meanwhile my neighbor had got me a riksa and was already putting my bags on it. I guess I’m going with this one then, I had to conclude. And off we went in the opposite direction of what the bus driver had indicated.

The streets were deserted with only few other late night passengers or random people drinking tea prepared on the fired glazing on the roadside. It was such a long ride. I had really no idea where I am, just sitting there on the riksa being carried into the darkness. Maybe 20 minutes ride further we turned between the big parked trucks. Interesting move, I thought. But then I saw the hotel behind them.

Hotel was closed of course. After yelling, knocking the door and ringing the doorbell so much that the whole neighborhood lost electricity, we heard some steps. Some weird looking young boy opened the door, they spoke Hindi to each other, I took my bags and entered the complete darkness of this hotel. Good I had my head torch. There was a bench in the hall where I could sit and then an old man gave who said “Hello”. I gave him the precious envelope and did not even dare to speak much to distract him. He read the letter, gave it back to me, stood up without saying one word and walked to the toilet where he peed without closing the door.

He came back, scratching his ass, took the letter and read it again. Against my better judgment I started to get worried. I asked him if he had the bus ticket. He told not to worry, that in the morning I can take the bus. I said that they should have the ticket already and it’s paid for and I want to have it now and I want to be sure that they have it and many other versions of the same plead. It all got the same answer: in the morning, no problem. And then he disappeared while the young weird guy continued screaming his name for no reason. And when he wasn’t screaming he was laughing in a equally weird voice. There was no other light except my head torch, which I every now and then turned off to save the battery. But it was too depressive to sit there in darkness with occasional hollow laughter or a scream.

An hour later the electricity came and the old man returned. It seemed as if he had completed a course in English meanwhile. It was actually possible to talk to him this time and I got to know, that they don’t have the bus tickets, but that’s of course not a problem. He will organize a horse riksa to take me across the border where I can take the bus and he will pay for the bus ticket. Waiting for the horse riksa I got the smallest cup of tea in my life. Outside I saw the sunrise and like all other sunrises I had yet to see in India, the sun was deep orange-red. Why is it so in India?

I crossed the border on the horse. Both immigration controls were easy and everything is done on paper like in Saint Gilles Commune in Brussels.

Across the border in Raxaul the riksa driver bought me a bus ticket – ripped of tiny corner of a paper with couple of words handwritten on it. With this I was supposed to transfer from this bus to another in Patna, India. Great, looking forward it.

It is a testament to the automotive industry, that during the next 3 hours the bus did not fall apart on that road. And then the 6 hours after that it was easy. In Patna, however, oh joy, it turned out we had missed the connection bus. That meant one thing, I will have to dive deep into the Indian experience at once – travelling by train.

Soon enough I was on the platform with 1000 Indians. These were all that did not fit onto the train that was standing on the platform already.  I was looking for a person on the platform who looks like he can speak English and then milked all the crucial information out of him. Like: am I on the right platform? When is the next train and how long it will take.

When the next train arrived I was mentally prepared for the fight of the survival of the fittest. Not letting myself be pushed to the back, I fought myself into the II class carriage. With the help of locals even got a seat and luckily had to share it with only one other person. 3 hours later I was in Gaya and found myself a guesthouse just opposite to the train station. I had been commuting 27 hours and even the occasional big ant or someone other sentient being walking on the bed could not disturb my sleep. I just hoped they will not crawl into my ears. I was happy to have made it to India. Bodh Gaya was now just 15km away.

People around us

One amazing thing about travelling is that you get to meet great people which such different backgrounds, aims and ways of going about their life and journey. Just a few examples here.

In a bus after my trek back to Kathmandu I met this Scottish girl my age who has one holiday a year from her busy work and she used it for volunteering in Nepal in an orphanage and old people’s home. She said working in the old people’s home was the toughest for her…washing bed linens dirty from human excrements by hand.  She left only couple of days of her stay in Nepal to use for a holiday and was trying to arrange a one day rafting trip at the time.

I met an older Australian gentleman who is now the very first person in the whole Australia to have an electric car. We talked a lot about eco products etc. He had collected all the plastic bottles that he had used/bought in Nepal and was planning to take them with him to Australia unless he can find out that in Kathmandu there is a place where they recycle plastic. He was also a very calm person. He had booked a two day rafting trip. It turned out on Trisuli river this time of year there is only a one day option. If you would continue from the end point of the first day onwards, there would be no rapids at all, too calm. So he will have to do the same strip of river twice. Of course the travel agent had not told him so. But he was not mad about it at all. Totally happy to do it again.

I met a group of Duchmen of 40+ who are dentists. They were 8 people and for 10 days they went from village to village to give dental services to the poor. Previous year they had done the same in Bangladesh and were happy that in Nepal it was also possible to combine volunteering with some amazing trekking in the Himalayas.

A Japanese girl with whom I flew together from Kuala Lumpur to Kathmandu was on a one year travel as well. Her whole luggage was like 6kg, no kidding. 

I met an American girl who had been volunteering in the villages in India and Nepal helping little businesses and some organizations with the business plans, customer service education and whatsoever. She also threw a big thanksgiving dinner, which was amazing. Stuffed turkey is indeed something to rave about. 

And this is just couple of examples of the foreigners. And then there are the Nepali people. Peace of my heart is left in Nepal. 

Manaslu cirquit and a lunch in Tibet

Last year I did two long treks in Nepal, so I knew what I was getting into. More or less.  I knew that for this time of year, there is an invisible line at 3000m for example. This line is a separation between the possibility to wash yourself or to continue with natural odor. In fact you are covered with so many layers of clothes, that the smell does not reach the outer space anyway. In other words, no problemo.  On Manaslu cirquit I was above 3000m for a week. I discovered there is another line at 4000m. That concerns washing your teeth. Running water is not available (because its freezing, doh) and buying hot water is so expensive that you don’t use it to spit it out as waste. 

So there I went, freshly equipped with all the new mountain gear bought in Nepal and Bishnu, my Guide-Porter in one person on my side to take care of me. I also had a ghost trekker as Manaslu cirquit you cannot legally do in 1pax, so you need to pay a permit fee of another trekker – your ghost. I believe my ghost trekker was from Czech Republic.

Trek was planned 15 days walking, plus transfer days (read: exhausting Nepal local bus drives that take the whole day). It was November and the peak season for this route was over, which was great because there where only a few other trekkers.

Last year when I went on a solo trek, I met immediately Ewelina, Chris and Mike with whom we became good friends and trekked together. So I kinda expected similar thing to happen this year, but  it didn’t. The first 4 days was cool as there was another German solo trekker with his guide and ghost, so the evenings and lunch breaks we spent together and had fun times. After that they made their way further up the Tsum Valley, but I continued on the circuit. 

For couple of evenings I felt stuck with groups and couples from Belgium and France. Very conscious of my narrow mindedness, but I concluded – French language just does not fit me. So there were few evenings where I tried to understand the conversation around me in French with not much success and then resorted to the only warm place – the sleeping bag. These were evening where there was no electricity and as I had not made a strong connection with anyone, after dinner there is only so much fun you can have in a dark dining room in zero degrees. So you get in your sleeping bag at 7PM and convince yourself to sleep, because this is the best activity for the next 10 hours.

I proved to be very successful in convincing myself to do so. I was in Namrung, 2650m, fifth day of the trek. Earlier in the morning had said goodbye to the German gentleman Joachim and his guide Rinzin. I had also had a bucket shower in the squat toilet. It works like this – you get a bucket of hot water and then you wash yourself. Easy. Only this time there was no dedicated shower room, so I had to do it in the toilet. So excited to pour some hot water on myself, first thing I do is to drop the soap in the toilet hole. How bad can it be? I decided it’s probably not too bad and reached the hand inside to rescue the soap. Oh yeah, nice, don’t you think. It was clean actually, no need to puke. One minute later my necklace becomes loose and the crystal drops to the same hole… ok, I did it once, I can do it again. These are the adventurous moments of a bucket shower. But you have to imagine how great it is to feel hot water on your skin after so many days. I think by that time I had not had hot shower since Malaysia. No kidding.

So after having such a special shower and even washing my clothes with the remaining warm water, I had a nice dal-baht for a dinner, made a phone call to Kathmandu to talk to Milan and decided there is nothing else to do than to go to sleep. Next morning I asked the Frenchies how they slept. Their face depicted drama as they said not so good. Why? Because of the cold? “No, the dogs!” Apparently there where a bunch of dogs howling and barking throughout the night keeping up not only the Frenchies, but anyone else that I talked to. I had no idea as I had slept my 10hours straight. People could not believe this.

After couple of boring evenings I met some new people again and soon we had a card playing team that lasted until the final day of the trek. 

The days itself where filled with walking and making pictures of course. Some views or places or the Tibetan kids are so beautiful-cute, you cannot believe. One of the more memorable days was a so called rest day (i.e. sleep in the same lodge) when Bishnu and I went to Tibet. Close to Sambdo (3875m), on the Manaslu circuit, there passes an old trading route between Nepal and Tibet. I had heard it’s great, finally met people who had just done it and where able to describe it well and explain how difficult/cold/long the trek is etc. The border is at 4900m, so just about 1km ascent.

In fact when I got to Sambdo, I heard that that morning a couple went on this trek so I was waiting for their return. One moment Bishnu indicates me, that the couple has arrived and this is their guide. I asked the guide how it was and he answered with exhausted voice “It was nice, but I'm now too tired to explain. They are in the dining room, you can talk to them.” Oookey…that sounds a bit extreme. I entered the dining room, saw a guy sitting and a girl lying down on a bench, eyes closed and figured it must be them. So they explained me everything and suggested not to leave 6AM as they did, because they were always in the shadow and it was very cold. Cold had been the biggest issue and they had to trek in the down jacket almost the whole time. The climb itself had not been so tough and the views at the border where amazing.

I was convinced I should do it. We started at 7.20AM and after an hour or so we where in the sun and it was possible to replace the down jacket with light wind proof jacket and it was comfortable. The route to the border was 3 hours of quite flat climb, though you still climb about 500m and then 2 hours of more tough uphill to the pass where the border post is. It is an unmanned post and no snipers around to shoot and kill so you can freely cross the border.

I'm quite helpless when it comes to maps and it was first time for Bishnu as well on this route, but we made it there without ever getting lost. Once on the pass, both the beauty of the Tibetan mountains and the cold wind struck us. With the down jacket on it was warm though and we ended spending about an hour in Tibet. We walked down to a better view point around the curve and had a chapatti-egg + green tea with honey picnic on the grass. It was really lovely.  Soon it was one a clock and time to start the 3 hour trek back. This reminds me – I think at 4000m there is another invisible border for me. Above that line to have a break, I will search for a place to lie down. Sitting just doesn’t seem to cut it. Lets say you are walking on this windy path and are quite tired and then suddenly there is this big enough rock to act as a wind shelter and flat enough rocks or even grass behind it - isn't this just a dream come true?

After Sambdo there was only one night left before the Larkya La pass i.e. the highest point of the trek 5100m. This one night was to be spent in Dharamsala 4460m. As I had done the side trip to Tibetan birder I was not afraid of the altitude, just hoping it will be good weather. 

Once we got to Dharamsala it was nice and sunny. They have one lodge there, built from stones, but the wind blows right through it. Thus my guide insisted that I should sleep in the tent and I trusted his opinion. In fact at that moment, because it was sunny, it was cosy and warm inside the tent. Around two the sun was behind the mountains though and it got so chilly. I decided to stay inside the sleeping bag until dinnertime. When I got off the tent the ground was covered with snow (just a few mm, but still) and it was very cloudy.

Had a dinner, played some cards, borrowed secretly an extra blanket and went to sleep at 8pm. I put my boots between the mattresses so they wouldn’t freeze. I tried to put the waterbottle inside my sleeping bag, but that stupid top kept on leaking so I put it between the mattresses as well. Well, it was frozen the next morning as it had been -7 degrees that night.

Breakfast was set at 4.30AM. I did not have an alarm clock, because the phone battery was dead. So before falling asleep I thought to myself that I have to wake up at 4AM. From previous experience I know that it is possible to set an inner alarm clock, to tell yourself what time it is needed to wake up. So I did that. Surely enough exactly 4AM I opened my eyes. I found it so cool when stuff like this happen.

5.20AM we where on our way with the headlights and star lights. There was no wind. During the dawn everything around us was in magical blue light, even the snow. It was like nothing else I have ever seen. Going to the pass I was sometimes the very first person to make the footsteps in the snow. It’s more playful trying to find the path rather than follow the footsteps of others. By that time the sun was high and bright, but the silence was complete. There was no wind. I had remembered from previous day, when I was lying down and resting (so above 4000) and it was not windy, but you could hear the wind circling around the top of one of the 7000+ peaks nearby and whirling the snow. But now, on the way to 5100m pass and even on the pass itself, it was so quiet. There were no birds, animals, no other people nearby. Definitely the loudest silence I have ever consciously experienced. Magical. 

After the pass you still have to walk a bit almost horizontally until you see what is on the other side and wow what a mountain range. Amazing. And then there was wind again as well so I knew the world is in order again. 5 hours descent was ahead. Some of it so steep and slippery that you have to be quite careful. I managed to limit myself to a single easy fall. The last two hours was not so steep any more, but relentless downhill nevertheless. It starts to feel like never ending and I was getting quite convinced that this place, Bimthang 3590m, were we are supposedly heading, has disappeared from the face of the Earth. Bishnu confirmed that the village is still further down beyond the bend of the river, so we can’t see it from this angle. For me it seemed that the bend of the river is so far that it is ridiculous that Bimthang is located so far. Why isn’t it closer? I have a slight headache and it’s 1PM and it’s time to call it a day. Ok, ok, I will stop complaining inside my head, I thought. I can do this, in fact it is not even that hard, I told myself.

2PM we were there. Bimthang existed after all. I had an amazing tomato package soup and fresh momos and celebrated the fact that I’m over the pass, it’s done and it was great and perhaps tomorrow I can have a shower. Since the shower in Namrung I had never taken off my scarf (you know the one from fleece that is just a circle around your neck or you can turn it into a hat by pulling from the string) and had taken off my hat for perhaps 20min in total. These garments stay on day and night. At some point you realize that combing your hair serves no purpose. If I was courageous enough to wash my face with ice cold water, I would just push the hat back a bit. Easy.

Hopefully this was about to change as next day took us down to 2300m. The lodge owner claimed there is hot water there and so there was. I stayed under the weak flow of water as long as my environmentally conscious mind allowed me. I still remember vividly how amazing it was to smell cent of shampoo on my hair.

After few more days the trek was over. It was time to celebrate. At the finish line the first thing I ordered was a beer and it tasted marvelous. I also ordered chicken curry which ended my vegetarian epoch.  Next day took me back to Kathmandu where I stayed almost the whole remaining time in Nepal.