Insight Adventures

After a week here in Nepal, I feel as if I have been gone for over a month already. Time is stretching out. Last night I came up with the theory that if life is really just about loving and learning then my perception of time must be based on the amount of learning or loving going on. Thinking back to times in my life when I was deeply in love, I remember totally loosing perception of time. And now that I’m in this intense learning environment, with massive amounts of new experiences flooding my brain, my perception of time has slowed down, emotionally and intellectually. Here is one day that had much more than your average 16 hours of living:

I woke up in the dark, popped out bed and went running to a local Buddhist monastery. On the way over, I ran by a tiny little tailor shop and noticed that the sliding door was half open. I peeked my head into the shop and did my best tourist mime asking him to sew my shirt. He agreed, and slid the metal door open to reveal that his shop was also his house. His wife was still in bed and I was standing there shirtless feeling a bit awkward. He completed the work quickly and his wife stayed in bed and just smiled at me. Locals walked by and didn’t really take much notice. I started to wonder if this was a not an uncommon request from tall shirtless white people at 6:30 in the morning.

Arriving at the monastery for sunrise, I was the only person around not in red robes. The gate guard kindly let me in to watch their morning prayers. Feeling a bit insecure and out of place, I hid out in back and tried to not be noticed. (In my neon blue running shirt) Fortunately, they were deep in their process and only a few younger monks peeked over at me. Whew… I made it virtually undiscovered and managed to not invade their sacred morning ritual. I have no photo for you, I didn’t even consider pulling my camera out. Just imaging hundreds of monks and nuns all dressed in red, singing in chorus in a beautiful hall, with rays of warm golden morning light pouring in through the windows. Now imagine you are the only visitor there; alone standing in the back in the shadows, soaking up the moment, trying to not bee seen. It gives me shivers just telling you about it.

On my run home, I saw a dog chewing on a huge bone, he looked so happy. Only when I got closer did I realize it was previously owned by another dog. ( I forgive myself for judging that dog as a bad dog cannibal.) =)

Back at my Hotel, I stood out on the balcony and watched the sun climb over the mountain and illuminate the Bodhnath stupa. Bells in the distance let me know that prayers had begun in my neighborhood.

Hours later, I found myself in the ancient part of the city, Durbar Sqaure. walking along with a Danish tour group and my new friend Tina, the fashion guru from Dubai who runs the Diesel Jeans flagship store there. No Diesel jeans around here, I think they are a bit pricey. Sorry Tina. After a bit of architectural and historical gluttony, I thought it might be time to have a bit of fun.  It turns out that some of the most fun people in town are the multilingual, tourist manipulating sales people and their charming -wish I could take you home- adorable and uber-tourist manipulating children. The girl scouts could become a multinational conglomerate in weeks with these kinds selling cookies. Just a thought.

The best of the lot was Abdi. This 10 year old kid spoke 5 languages! After playing around and trying to teach him pig-Latin (a very useful language), I noticed that I had lost my group. Oops. Never fear, I had made friends with most skilled person around. Over the next two hours he managed to find our group that was walking 15 minutes ahead of us, rally up random children for photos, keep away beggars and other salespeople and teach me a bit of the local language. Apparently “buy me milk sir” is another way to say hello. I decided to just use “Namaste.”

Determined not to fall into the pay-for-friendship tourist trap, I decided that he would surely love to go for a run around town on my shoulders as a thank you for our time together. Wrong. It turned out this poor guy had a serious fear of heights and started screaming bloody murder when I picked him up and threw him on my shoulders. Everyone in the neighborhood was truly entertained, except Abdi. Feeling a bit like a schoolyard bully, I acquiesced and bought him a milk to make peace.

At lunch we sat on a roof top terrace and watched two boys fly a kite from the roof next door. I wondered if they were practicing for future kite battles. After lunch, yes, after lunch, we went over to the Ghats just out of town to watch cremations along the river. Sneaking around the back, so as to avoid paying to watch a funeral (a moral dilemma that I’m sure we could discuss for hours), I witnessed two bodies being burned on the pyre. Silently I watched for just a few moments. I could feel the intense heat coming off the burning bodies and quickly decided that this was  not a scene to be gawking over. I did not take a picture of this one either. Fortunately before I had a chance to change my mind, we were escorted out by a woman in a sari with a stick in her hand. “You must pay ticket,” She said. We walked away. I later learned that people with money get to burn their relatives in private areas. What we witnessed was the all-too-public “cheap seats” burning section for the dead of the poorer casts.

 Later, I made my way over to the other side of town to walk several silent clockwise laps around the Bodhnath stupa . (One of the most important places for Tibetan Buddhists in Nepal) The scene was a fascinating combination of ancient tradition, modern necessity, western tourists, worshipers, dogs, a cow and pretty much everyone else that could possibly have a reason to be there. And… despite all of the different influences, the place maintained its magical power. I climbed up onto the stupa and for a moment the sounds all slipped away. I just focused on the prayer flags gently swaying over my head and the sun going down in the distance.

Ahhh.. I found my moment of peace.

What a day.

PS.. I just had to drop in one more thing. This bus driver has a real live grass lawn he planted on the dashboard of his bus. It even came complete with a cricket and a couple other bugs living in this little mini eco system!