1.6.09 from Kathmandu: Snowy Paradise

Helambu is heaven on Earth. In the book I put together called Compassionate Action, I have a chapter on this region, which the Tibetans call Yolmo. It is considered a paradise for Buddhist practice. Ian Baker discussed this region with Chatral Rinpoche, and he wrote, “Beyond Yolmo’s visible terrain of mountains, streams and forests, (Chatral Rinpoche) said, lies an inner level corresponding to the flow of intangible energies in the physical body. Deeper still, the subtle elements animating the environment merge with the elements present within the practitioner—the secret level. Finally, at the innermost level lies a paradisiacal dimension revealed through an auspicious conjunction of person, place and time. Chatral Rinpoche contended that this is not merely a metaphor for the enlightened state, but an ever-present, if hidden, reality.”

Chatral Rinpoche wrote about Yolmo, “…Surrounded by moats of water and walls of earth and rock, graced perpetually by clouds, mist and rain, the valley is naturally sealed from the outer world. If from among hundreds there are a few endeavoring to practice Dharma from their hearts, I say ‘Come to this place for the attainment of Buddhahood in this life.’”

It sounded like a perfect place to spend my New Year’s holiday.

On December 31st, I woke up at 1 a.m. to a strange sound—a heavy downpour. It only rains in December in Kathmandu “once in a blue moon.” Sure enough, on the blue moon day, it rained heavily. This was great news for me, because it meant that up in the mountains, where I was headed, there would be plenty of fresh snow to greet me.

I left the monastery at 5 a.m. and walked an hour in the dark to the bus stand. I had no idea what was in store for me. It turns out the $1.50 for the 5 hour bus ride was like putting six quarters into a mechanical bull riding machine at a bar in Texas. The single-lane mountain road descending into the mountain valley of Helambu had gigantic ruts and potholes throughout, made worse by the fresh rain. I bumped my head on the bus ceiling no fewer than five times. Once, when the guy next to me got up from his seat, the seat itself flew up about 3 feet in the air and onto the bus floor.

I survived the ordeal and met a local man who was going in the same direction as I, a village called Tarkegyang. It was 3 straight hours of uphill climbing, but the waterfalls and spectacular mountain scenery eased the pain in my legs and lungs. I was delighted to discover plenty of snow in my village, and after checking into my hotel, got to work making a snowman. I usually try to build an epic snow creature at least 9 feet high (one of which made the front page of a local newspaper in Northern Wisconsin two years ago), but since dark was fast approaching, I scaled it down a bit.

My quaint lodge, called Mountain View, offered a room for $1.35. I was the only guest and become well acquainted with the lodge owner, who thankfully spoke Tibetan. (Most people in this mountainous area speak a unique dialect that combines Tibetan and Nepali). He cooked up a New Year’s Eve feast for me that included steamed dumplings stuffed with cabbage picked fresh from his snowy garden, an omelet, and a pint of Everest beer. I am quite fond of games, especially around the holidays, so he taught me a popular Nepali card game called Marriage. The game involves three full decks of cards and took me three full nights to learn. By the end of my stay, I became quite adept at the game and managed to score a 45 in one game, which was considered by the hotel owner to be quite an achievement.

That night it descended into single digits Fahrenheit, but I stayed warm with six layers of clothing, a heavy-duty sleeping bag, and a thick blanket to top things off. The next morning, I set out on a steep, snowy trail that would take me to Chatral Rinpoche’s famous three-year retreat center in a place called Lhakang. The trail was very peaceful and quiet, with the only disturbance coming from the machine-gun fluttering of a family of mountain grouse. As I reached the mountaintop and began my descent to Lhakang, I met a menacing-looking local mountain man with a curved machete prominently displayed on his belt. He confirmed I was on the right trail and I soon arrived at a cascading stream, where I had my lunch. I entered Chatral Rinpoche’s compound and was greeted by a huge black yak. Must be the security guard. As I came close, he threatened me with his horns, and so I took a detour to get around him.


As I circumambulated the temple, I saw something strange in the distance—a couple of large white monkeys! I didn’t think there were monkeys in the Nepali mountains and was quite perplexed. I heard some people chanting prayers in the distance and continued past the helicopter landing area to a row of ancient stupas. Below me, a large herd of goats ran over to their feeding troths. As I descended to the edge of the compound, I was greeted by a wild-looking Tibetan man with a dragon shirt named Sangye (Buddha in Tibetan). He was very friendly and invited me for lunch. When I gave him a copy of Compassionate Action, he jumped around joyfully like a leprechaun. He made me a delicious dish with fried potatoes, vegetables and yak cheese and introduced me to the other retreatants there. One man, who looked very much like a young Chatral Rinpoche, had been there 10 years. He told me that Chatral Rinpoche last came here in the spring of 2005 and that there was no longer a lama in the compound, so they were more or less doing their 3-year retreats on their own.

My new friends asked me to take some pictures of the thriving goat herd to give to Chatral Rinpoche, and they gathered all 88 goats from their respective fields for the photo shoot. They were all male goats, and so did a lot of head butting as they sparred at the feeding troth. We then walked up to the temple and they gave me a tour. Chatral Rinpoche’s portrait was painted on the wall along with his root teacher and the main figures of the Longchen Nyingthig lineage. There were also Buddhist figures important to the region painted on the wall. Chatral Rinpoche is known for embracing the local culture in addition to flawlessly preserving his own Tibetan Buddhist lineages. The Hindu/Buddhist shrine he built in Pharping in 2008 is an example of that.

My friends built a small snowman and we all posed for a photo in front of it. I hope to return next fall for a one-month retreat if I can get the necessary permissions. They gave me one of their goat herding sticks and it seemed to possess magic powers to prevent fatigue. The same hill that had taken me 45 minutes to climb down took me 30 minutes to climb straight up.

That New Year’s Day Evening I took a photo of the full moon that I had no idea my digital Powershot SX10 camera was capable of. I admit, I am quite proud of my 80x zoom. To celebrate the photographic achievement (and the New Years of course) I invented an exotic mountain drink that combined hot chocolate and a locally made coffee liqueur called Mustang Roksi.
The next day, I climbed to the top of the highest mountain in the area, and thanks to the magic stick was able to climb it one hour faster than local estimates. A Guru Padmasambhava stupa topped the peak of the mountain and circumambulating it, you could see mountain ranges in every direction. I have captured that on video here. I spent four hours doing meditation and prayers there (and taking pictures of course), the best of which you can see here.I made a smoke/incense offering in the large burner by the stupa and repaired a number of prayer flags that had been knocked down by the wind. This mountaintop felt like home to me and may very well be my favorite place in the world.


The next morning, I descended toward the river to visit a cave that Milarepa had meditated in. Milarepa is the most famous Tibetan-born Buddhist of all time and you can read about him here. I meditated in his cave for ½ hour after offering a large butter lamp (Buddhist candle) and it was easily the most poignant meditation of my life. Thanks to being supercharged by this experience (and with the magic stick of course), I made it from the cave to my destination (Thimbu, where I caught my bus) in less than half the time estimated by the locals.

Yolmo is truly a paradise for Buddhist practitioners and I will do whatever I can to return in the fall.