12.28.09 from Kathmandu: Monks and Blood-Guzzling Dogs

Many people have asked me what a monk is. Do they get married? Are they highly evolved spiritual beings? How do they become monks? Who supports them?

Monks are by definition celibate and live in monasteries away from society. Some of the monks here are orphans, some of them were sent by their parents to receive an education, and a handful came here because they wanted to pursue the spiritual life. They are supported by local and foreign patrons of the monastery, and some by their families. They receive spending money when they are asked by a sponsor, for instance, to say prayers for a deceased or ill family member.

Monks are students in a same-gender boarding school, which happens to focus on religious topics such as rituals, prayers, meditation, and philosophy. As you know, I teach them English and they sometimes receive other kinds of secular instruction as well. As with any school, you have your students who would rather play than learn, and those who have an insatiable intellectual curiosity. The former often times become householders when they reach their 20’s and they have received an education. The latter may stay on and get the equivalent of a Ph.D. in Buddhism at a Buddhist University or a monastery study program and become teachers or leaders for the next generation of monk-students or Western Buddhist students.

Every Friday is song day in my middle school class, and over Christmas I taught them such classics as Frosty the Snow Man and Jingle Bells. Along with singing the songs, we had highly animated dance moves choreographed for every verse. If I would’ve brought my video camera, it may well have become the biggest YouTube sensation since the Philippino prison workers did the Michael Jackson Thriller dance. Maybe next time.

The most notorious resident of the monastery is Kali, a ferocious black dog that bites pretty much everyone not wearing a monk’s robe. The dog’s name comes from the Hindu Goddess Kali, who is considered to be the most avid blood guzzler in the universe. In Nepal, Hindus kill many thousands of goats, sheep, buffalo, and chickens at her shrines and spray the blood on her statue to satiate her thirst. In the movie Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, all of the blood sacrifices that go on, including human sacrifices, are done in her honor.

Kali the dog has seen me many times per day every day for about two months, but still can’t resist lunging at me for a good leg munch once in a while. I thought we had a truce going until I came home one evening last week from my friend’s house. The other three dogs recognized me and didn’t bother getting up from the chairs they were laying in. About 3 feet from the hallway of the building I lived, Kali jumped up and clamped her chompers right into the back of my knee. I yelled at her and took a swing with my foot. My shoe was not all the way on, and flew off my foot about 30 feet into the air to the top of the monastery roof. The monastery caretaker intervened and helped to subdue the seemingly rabid demon-dog, but not before I had a painful wound on my leg. I now carry a stick to ward off attack.

12.23.09 from Kathmandu: Pharping

I first heard about Thinley Norbu Rinpoche in 2004 from my friend Adam in Nepal. I was told he was an other-worldly, amazing spiritual master, but kind of scary at the same time because of his dynamic energy and powers. It was rumored that it was nearly impossible to meet him now days, because of his advanced age, reclusive nature, and protective students. I was intrigued. Thinley Norbu Rinpoche arrived in Nepal last month, amidst much fanfare to inaugurate a monastery. An arch was constructed over the main highway in Kathmandu next to the airport to display a message welcoming him. Even though he was at the monastery leading ceremonies, it was still “not possible” to meet him according to various sources. I basically gave up on the prospect and assumed that he left the country while I was in Malaysia. While at my Tibetan friend’s bookstore last week, however, I heard from my British friend that he was still at the monastery for a few more days.

Last Friday, I hopped on a bus to Pharping, the town where I lived during the fall of 2004. The bus was packed and the roof was only 5’10” tall (plenty high for the average Nepali), so I had to stand in a bent position for the bumpy 2 hour ride. I was very happy to see my old town again and went to the guesthouse I had stayed five years earlier to get my $4/night room. I then walked to the home of one of Chatral Rinpoche’s close disciples to get some advice on the best way to make offerings to Chatral Rinpoche (who no longer meets people). He kindly asked his wife to drive me to Chatral Rinpoche’s home to set up an appointment with Chatral Rinpoche’s daughter.

Later that evening, I walked to the spectacular new monastery with offerings in hand and joined about 200 others in the beautifully decorated temple. We read through a Tibetan offering prayer that went on for about 90 minutes and featured melodious chanting and many prayers I was familiar with. Thinley Norbu Rinpoche had not made an appearance during these nightly prayers for three days. As the ceremony neared the end, I looked to my left and an elderly man walked into the monastery wearing large trekking boots and a huge poofy jacket. He had amazing long hair that made him look like a mystical wizard. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that this was the great Thinley Norbu Rinpoche. He walked around for a while to inspect the offerings and sat for a few minutes in his throne in the front before leaving through the back door. We all assumed that was the last we would see of him that day.

After the ceremony, I asked one of his assistants if I could meet him, and naturally, was told it was not possible, but I could get my mala blessed if I put it in a bag. I filled the bag with an offering, ceremonial white scarf, and a copy of my book on Chatral Rinpoche to accompany the mala and gave it to the assistant. As I walked into the courtyard, I noticed everyone was frozen and looking in awe at something in the distance. Thinley Norbu Rinpoche was talking with some friends of his close disciples. His five person security detail was not pleased with all the loitering students and asked them to “keep it moving.” I managed to drift back and wait for the right opportunity to meet the great master. I made it through a few layers of security and then spoke in Tibetan with one of his guards to ask if I could listen to the Dharma talk he was giving to one of the people he was meeting. This was the “secret password” and got me within a few feet of the legend.

I managed to get in line with some “special exceptions” to the doesn’t-meet-anyone rule (such as a child with a terminal illness) and prepared my offering. As my turn came, I introduced myself and presented him with a copy of my book, which featured old photos of his father Dudjom Rinpoche, and a chapter on the relationship his father had with Chatral Rinpoche. He seemed genuinely interested and asked me where I was from. He made a joke that my name Zach sounded wrathful. I shook his hand and pressed it to my head for a rare blessing and he put a white scarf around my neck. I thanked him and floated the two miles back to my guesthouse in the pitch dark.

The next morning, I get up early to meet with Chatral Rinpoche’s daughter and delivered 25 copies of the book Compassionate Action for her to distribute to his English-speaking disciples. She asked for my help publishing a few books of one of Chatral Rinpoche’s Western disciples and I gratefully received a protection cord, blessed pills, a holy text, and other sacred objects.

After breakfast, I hired a local man to take me to all the monasteries and holy sights in Pharping. Many spectacular photos can be found here.

I took the bus home in a way more accommodating to my height, by riding on the storage rack on the roof with about 50 Nepalis in their 20’s. Aside from the tree branches that regularly brushed our heads as we descended the mountain road, it was an enjoyable ride that offered a beautiful view of the Himalayas and the countryside.

12.14.09 from Kathmandu Part Three: Malayasia

We had an early flight to Malaysia and I decided to enjoy the Hong Kong nightlife instead of sleeping. I developed this tradition in Norway when I was visiting my relatives there in 2003, deciding to party all night with friends and relatives instead of sleeping prior to an early flight.

I was put in charge of supervising 8 monks and keeping tract of their whereabouts during the 9 days, taking them to restaurants for their meals and making sure they got to various places at various times. The problem was, we were staying at a hotel attached to one of the largest shopping malls in the world and the monks wanted to explore the entire 4 square mile, 4 floor complex on their own. Many of them did not know English and I felt it was pretty much guaranteed they would get hopelessly lost if they wandered as they wished. Therefore, I had to do a lot of monk-herding, which incidentally, is similar to cat herding. The only advantage I had was their maroon robes, which caused them to stand out from the typical teenage girl shopper crowd.

The second day I was there, I found out I was being appointed the Master of Ceremonies for the two-day teaching and that the crowd was expected to exceed 600 people. I had to write my script the next day (introducing and transitioning the various teachings and activities planned for each day), learn it, and then report to the venue at 7 a.m. the following morning to practice with my counterpart, the Chinese language emcee. We worked well together, despite the fact that she was 18 inches shorter than me. My opening line, “gooooood mooorning laaaadies and gentlemen” was a favorite among the monks and they would repeat it back to me in their best Zach impersonation throughout the trip.

One of the speakers the first day was Grand Feng Shui Master Yap Cheng Hei, who was a beautiful old man with a sharp sense of humor and a comprehensive knowledge of the ancient Chinese art of Feng Shui. After his talk, I went around the audience with my cordless mic and took questions. Somehow, the topic quickly turned to ghosts, as Master Yap was a “ghost whisperer.” People asked him about his experiences, and he described seeing “zombies with their eyes and half their brains hanging out” causing havoc in a house. He said he would say prayers for the ghost and then “give them a passport to heaven” after which they would no longer bother anyone.

During the day, I kept reminding the audience to submit questions for the evening Q&A session and boy did they respond. As the emcee, I sorted out which questions to pose to Master Yap and Shyalpa Rinpoche among the 50+ submitted. Some were very personal, such as “what do you do when your husband cheats on you and beats you but you don't want to get a divorce because it might harm the children?” Some were very abstract, “what is the difference between the experience and the experiencer?” And some were controversial and timely, “What is your view on same-sex marriage?” I managed to keep the questions coming to both teachers for 2 straight hours while keeping the audience engaged.

The next day featured a long life empowerment, which is always a big draw. Fortunately, in terms of crowd management, the people of Kuala Lampur are generally not devout Buddhists and were therefore not as eager as, say, devotees in Nepal to get such a blessing. Sometimes in Kathmandu, when crowds are not carefully contained for long life empowerments, near-stampedes occur when the blessings-starved people make a mad rush to the temple to receive the empowerment at the conclusion of the ceremony. This time, everything went smoothly. As the day was coming to an end, I orchestrated a group of 15 local Malaysian volunteers to hand out the blessed food (fruit and cookies) to the 650 people in the crowd.

The next day, the monks went to the homes of two wealthy patrons to perform ceremonies for their continued success in business and life. At one of the homes, I got a chance to watch my favorite football team, the Minnesota Vikings, perform live on television. Unfortunately, it was their worst game of the year by far and they lost in disgraceful fashion.

After 7 days in the mall, we were ready to get out and see Malaysia. We chartered a large van and went on a 12-hour tour. The first stop was a major Hindu pilgrimage place featuring huge caves that had temples and images of the gods inside. Many pictures of this awe-inspiring place can be found here.

At the top of the climb to the stairs, a man with two large snakes awaits for those looking for photo props. I was such a person and the 30-pound yellow boa was placed around my neck. It was pretty nerve-wracking at first as it came toward my neck with its slithering tongue, but then became more relaxed and we were buds toward the end. You can watch a video of it here.

We then went into the heart of Kuala Lampur to the famous “Twin Towers”, which unlike the former Manhattan versions, are connected near the top with a walking bridge to enhance stability and functionality. They reigned as the highest in the world for a few years last decade.

After lunch came the highlight of the day, a trip to the beach. The monks changed out of their robes and into their beach shorts and we frolicked in the ocean. We then hired a speedboat to pull us on an inflatable device made for 7 people. One of the older monks was terrified but agreed to give it a try after much re-assuring that it was perfectly safe. We played a few games of beach soccer and enjoyed ice cream and cold drinks under the hot sun. We then headed back to the city for an hour and a half of laptop computer shopping for 3 of the monks in a chaotic technology-centric mall. Dinner didn’t come until after 9 p.m.

I was the group leader for the trip back to Nepal, so naturally continued my tradition of staying up the night before our early flight to be on the “top of my game.” Fortunately, though, the trip was without incident and a group of us even got a complimentary business class upgrade. We arrived in Nepal in the morning, and I spent the day sleeping and dreaming of my Southeast Asian adventure.

12.14.09 from Kathmandu Part Two: Hong Kong

We arrived in Hong Kong after a sleepless red eye flight via Dhaka, Bangladesh. As the plane touched down, we were quite surprised at the beautiful steep mountains and ocean bays that compose the city. Another surprise came when I saw how all-out our hotel was celebrating Christmas. Christmas music on loop, trees, lights, decorations everywhere. It apparently became an entrenched part of the culture during the 150 year British occupation, which ended in 1997. (China had given Britain a “lease” on the territory). We then enjoyed what is the Hong Kong uni-meal, enjoyed for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks—“dim sum.” A multitude of small dishes are shared by the group. Unfortunately, Hong Kong is not a vegetarian friendly city and if you don’t eat exotic sea creature body parts (squid eyes anyone?), you don’t have many options in certain restaurants.

It took me a few days to recover from the sleeplessness/over-eating at Thanksgiving party, just in time for a spectacular tour of the city. We started at the ocean-side convention center and then climbed (by bus) to the highest point in Hong Kong. continued past Jackie Chan’s castle-like mansion and to the beach. Then came the marina and a fun boat ride (several pictures on my flickr account) to a floating restaurant aptly named Jumbo. After lunch, we proceeded to a nunnery and a lovely garden area, where we had grand views of the full moon. The evening concluded at the Walk of the Stars along the ocean, which features a life-like statue of Bruce Lee, Hong Kong’s most famous star.

The next day, we were in full event preparation mode for the launching of a nonprofit organization named after the Chinese Princess who was instrumental in bringing Buddhism to Tibet in the 6th century (Wencheng Gongzhu). The dinner took place at a fancy hotel ballroom and was designed to bring in large crowds of celebrities and influential Hong Kong residents. I could no longer get away with flip flops to match my suit and tie, so had to get some dress shoes. By some miracle, they had a size 13 available in the clearance section (though I had to settle for size 9 dress socks, which is as large as they come there).

Before the dinner started, I joined a team of 5 Tibetans to fold up 500 ceremonial silk scarves, which would be offered later to the Buddhist teacher. I was then informed I would be the teacher’s bodyguard, along with my Tibetan friend. I picked the teacher up at his room and brought him down the stairs onto the red carpet area, which was teeming with models, actresses, businessmen and even China’s top golfer. The tabloid photographers snapped away on the red carpet and the next day over a dozen carried photos and a short article on the dinner.

The dinner program started with a series of Tibetan dances. A group from India came to lend their talents, which was especially impressive during the snow lion dance. Two performers team up inside a snow lion costume and dance around the room while doing a comic routine. It has to be seen to believed and left many with their jaws on the floor. You can see the video here.

After the dances, Rinpoche spoke to the crowd about the organization and all came up to offer him traditional white scarves. We then worked until about 1 a.m. to clean up and pack up the stage decorations.

The last night in Hong Kong, I went out with my friend to the tourist bar district. There were hundreds of freelance prostitutes there from the Philippines and some from Thailand. At the bar, they would swarm the rich American and European businessmen, often 5-6 prostitutes per person. They got about 50% commission for each drink purchased for them at the bar and tried to arrange additional services beyond that as the night progressed. Fortunately for me, I was not dressed like a businessman and it was evident to the savvy prostitutes that I was not worth much. Some of them frowned in disgust when they found out I was a Buddhist helping out with a teaching rather than a CEO on a business trip. Despite this strange dynamic, the dance club we went to was fun and we met some nice people there.

Many good pictures of Hong Kong at my Flickr account.

12.14.09 from Kathmandu

Between dodging cows, chickens and goats and negotiating tractors and a swarm of motorcycles on both sides, Kathmandu is probably one of the most challenging cities in the world to drive. One of our monks, a 17-year old Tibetan boy, just received his driver’s permit and we are using him to drive the monastery van from place to place. On one of his first trips, a senior monk instructed him on when to hit the clutch and the brake and when to shift based on his experience playing video games that involved driving. I myself took the role of driver’s ed instructor when we took the van to get another monk’s foot injury looked at. He was quite scared of the higher gears (perhaps because of past experience stalling on steep uphills) and I had to plead with him to shift into 4^th gear as the RPM’s hit 9000 on the highway around Katmandu. Fortunately, though, he finally became comfortable with the higher gears and showed great improvement from that trip alone.

As the assistant of a spiritual teacher, you must have great flexibility to do anything and go anywhere at any time. Thus, on November 27^th, I was told that I may be going to Hong Kong the following day and asked for my passport so plane tickets could be arranged. I went to the travel agent on the day of the flight to pick up tickets, and only after a few hours did my name clear the wait list. While in the area, I went to the Royal Palace, which is now a museum after the illegitimate king and his murderous son (see previous entry) were kicked out of the palace. It was quite fascinating to see all the royal rooms, including the king and queen’s bedroom, office, dining room and so on. The mixture of Buddhist and Hindu iconography throughout the palace was particularly interesting for me, as the previous king was considered an emanation of a Hindu god and I didn’t expect him to have loyalties to Buddhism as well.

The splendor of the palace rooms transitioned into the macabre sorrow of the 2001 royal massacre sight, which was an adjacent billiards hall. The building where the massacre took place was dismantled but signs commemorated the events and there were some bullet marks still visible in some of the walls left standing. Later that day, I talked to my Nepali friend about my “conspiracy theories” and he confirmed my belief that the criminal-minded prince most recently kicked out (who survived the massacre) was most likely the one who carried out the plan.

After the palace, I made my way to Mike’s Breakfast to purchase an authentic American pumpkin pie to bring to my friend’s Thanksgiving party. Mike was a Peace Corps volunteer in the 90’s and founded this American food oasis about 15 years ago. When I was on the UW-Madison study abroad program in 2000, we enjoyed the food and atmosphere on several occasions. I then stopped by the fancy grocery store in town to pick up ice cream and beer for the party and caught a local bus to my friend’s house.

The Thanksgiving party was quite the scene—primarily ex-pat Americans who had lived in Nepal for 20 or more years, as had the hosts (the Director of my UW Nepal Program and her husband). To preserve the spirit of the original American hippies who first came to Kathmandu in the 70’s, marijuana-laced desserts were even past around.

The primary cooks for the feast were Manbahadur, a chain-smoking tough guy Nepali with a heart of gold and Baidai’s son. Baidai and Manbahadur were the cooks for the UW program when I went on it 10 years ago. Baidai died of cancer, but his son took over for him and worked for the UW program until it shut down in 2005 due to political instability. Hopefully, the UW will renew the program soon and they can feed a new generation of college students with their considerable culinary talents. I ate as much as I should due to the spectacular and rare nature of the foods available (at the monastery there is only rice and lentils).

That same night, I left with 14 monks to the airport with a plan of going to Hong Kong. That’s when things got interesting. The customs officials at the Kathmandu airport had been drinking and it was closing in on 11 p.m. They felt like getting some spending money by essentially hassling the Tibetan monks in an effort to get bribes. This was in part due to the fact that some of the monks didn’t speak Nepali, yet had Nepali passports. One monk, a big burly character who only spoke Tibetan, had in his mind to answer every question posed to him with the location he obtained the passport, “Sindhupar Chowk.” Therefore, when the official asked his name, he replied with great enthusiasm and his finger in the air, “Sindhupar Chowk!” When he was asked what country he was headed to, he replied with great vigor, “Sindhupar Chow!.” This incident provided many laughs for the whole group throughout the trip.

The other monks’ passports were questioned and backup documents were demanded. One of the monks took a taxi back to the monastery to retrieve the back-up documents, but this did not satisfy the officials. They wanted a bribe. One of the group leaders in Hong Kong talked to one of the Nepali airport officials and promised them that “Tenzin from Boudha” would give them whatever sum of money they wanted if they just let the group through to board the plane. (Boudha is the Tibetan part of Kathmandu). The official took down the cell phone number and stamped all of the passports so we could leave.

To be continued... Photos at www.flickr.com/photos/crunkman29/