A Wonderful Opportunity to Help Build a Stupa

A stupa is a concentration of blessed and sacred objects, contained within a structure in an auspicious place.

As Buddhists, two of the most effective practices we can engage in on the path to Enlightenment are to accumulate merit and to purify obscurations. A stupa is an ideal setting to effectively engage in both of these activities. In Chatral Rinpoche’s A Brief Summary of the Benefits of Building, Circumambulating, Prostrating to, and Making Aspiration Prayers at a Stupa, he quotes the Buddha as saying,

“A stupa (is) the vajra essence of all Tathagatas (Enlightened Ones)…(A stupa is) consecrated by the secret essence of all the mantras of the Tathagatas…Whoever pays reverence and honors (a stupa) will eventually achieve the unexcelled and completely perfect state of enlightenment…All Tathagatas will bless the entire area that surrounds the place the stupa has been built in.”

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had such a powerful monument to our highest potential here in the United States─a stupa as awe-inspiring as the great Boudhanath Stupa in Nepal? (above) Well, fortunately, there is a collection of people from around the world with pure compassionate motivation working on just that─the Maha Bodhivastu Stupa in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York. (model on the right) Best of all, we have the incredibly fortuitous opportunity to help build this

stupa ourselves! Chatral Rinpoche quotes the Buddha as saying,

“If you make a stupa with your own hands, you will be able to purify your body even if you have committed…inexpiable sins.”

Engaging in the virtuous activity of building or supporting the construction of a stupa will also create enormous amounts of merit, which can propel us forward on the path to Enlightenment. The Maha Bodhivastu Stupa is prophesized by the high Oracle of Bhutan, Druk Chokyong Tsimar as a sacred structure that will benefit countless beings at this crucial moment in world history. The project is supported by many holy beings around the world. I strongly encourage you to join us in building it. The Stupa will be a focal point for our collective efforts to restore peace and harmony on the earth.

To learn more, please visit www.bodhivastu.org.

For more on Chatral Rinpoche’s teachings, please visit www.compassionateaction.info.

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.

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.

12.14.09 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/