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.