With so many places highlighted by television and film, you begin to develop mental models of them, and form an ideal experience in your head that represents your fantasies of that place. For India this was certainly the case, and an overnight train was one of those things we felt we had to do.
Arriving at the crowded train station, we found our compartment; 3 light blue vinyl, fold down table beds, each with a pillow and a blanket stacked on them. There were curtains at the bed ends to close at night, but they may as well not have been there, as they must have been opened near 15 times by confused passengers looking for their seat, or just barging in. One man in particular returned 4 or 5 times, opening the curtains very abruptly as if he’d discovered some mystery, and then wouldn’t close them after he didn’t find what he was looking for. The night moved slowly, on pace with the train, and the sleep was light, often disturbed by the chai pusher, a crying baby, or a really loud cell phone conversation. We had a total of about 22 stops all together, and the train went well into sunrise. After giving up on sleep, we took turns standing in the open air galley between the train cars to photograph, and breathe in the fresh and cool Indian morning air. Pulling into Pathankot, we met our driver Ali, a boyishly chubby and jovial man, who was to drive us the rest of the way to Dharamsala. Tucked away in the Himalayas, we would be staying at the Norbulingka Guest House, adjacent to the Tibetan Institute and village there.
Morning Air in the Galley
Following My Dream (Compass)
Dharamsala, India has been the place of political refuge for the Dalai Lama since 1959, as well as many other Tibetans, who have fled from the often violent and oppressive Communist Chinese government, and a possible death. It is a sad and unfortunate situation of misplacement, and seems all the more unjust by the peaceful and compassionate lives that most of the Tibetans lead. They are some of the calmest and kindest people I have ever been around, and this peaceful contentment permeated the air of the small mountain town, bringing a sense of comfort and ease in an otherwise totally unfamiliar place.
The Norbulingka Institute we stayed at was a communal organization that taught Buddhism classes, promoted awareness of the Tibetan situation, and helped sustain some of the local efforts and pursuits. They had a store full of really beautiful hand made Tibetan goods spun from yak wook and raw buray silk. I could not resist buying most of it, and neither could Brady. From then on we would be clothed in raw and beautiful fabrics made right at the institute. Hand made by Tibetans in India.
The Norbulingka Institute
Flag Filtered Morning Light
While checking out, I overheard a group of what sounded to be Americans talking and trying on garments. It is amazing the amount of comfort you can feel around a total stranger when you find out they are a fellow countryman in a far away place, and so I struck up a conversation. The young woman I met was named Courtney, a Colorado native living abroad and teaching Tibetan studies for Emory students. The rest of the group there was comprised of her students, and she was helping these seeking souls to find a path of wisdom and compassion in the program that she grew to love in her participation a few years back. As her students made their shopping selections, Brady, Chad and I exchanged stories with Courtney of our mis-adventures, finding similar threads, and seeking common ground. She was an avid outdoorswoman, and had actually worked on a few projects with the famed filmmaker and mountaineer David Breashears, helping him document glacier changes on Everest. As it turned out, our man in Pakistan, Kaiser Khan, had helped organize some of the treks and expeditions in Pakistan for Mr. Breashears; my circle of connection was growing broader, more serendipitous. Courtney promised to put me in touch with him.
As her students finished their shopping, we all said goodbye, and Courtney invited us to come to an informal question and answer session with her famed teacher, Geshe La, the translator and right hand man of the Dalai Lama himself. She gave us directions to someone’s house, told us to meet her there by 5, and led her students out of the institute like a buddhist mother and her little buddhist ducklings.
Having time to kill before the aforementioned class, we decided to go to the Namgyal monastery in Mccloud Ganj, which was the main monastery of the Dalai Lama. A place like that had a very commanding presence, and the aura was one of peace and piousness. Monks preparing for a test of some form paced around clasping their prayer beads, pilgrims spun prayer wheels, and well wishers made donations at various altars. Everywhere were people praying, meditating, or just contemplating. All had a sense of harmony. A place like that teaches you something whether you are listening or not, whether you came to learn, or whether you came to teach, wisdom permeated the very air we breathed. Photographs seemed trivial to me there, and even in Dharamsala itself, so I really did not take very many while I was there. The spirit of the place seemed so much bigger and intrinsic than shutter clicks could tribute to, and I actively decided not to try, as I was overwhelmed.
Prayer Wheels Ready for the Spinning
Pious Pre-Exam Warm Up
There were vendors and artisans that lined both sides of the narrow and climbing streets, full of antique and hew Tibetan handicrafts alike, the kinds of things that many other things try to be as authentic as. There were hand made clothes, antique amulets and jewelry, old rusted coins, beautiful stones made into belts and rings, singing copper prayer bowls, and knitted yak wool shawls, hats, and socks.I haunted these streets for the remaining days we were there, and made more unique purchases than I could’ve dreamed of. The wares that I bought were impeccably beautiful and authentic, but I couldn’t acquire nearly as much as I would’ve liked to. I was more than satisfied with my unique purchases, and I would return home bearing many special gifts to family and friends alike.
Nearing 5, we met Courtney at the designated place, and climbed a steep hill to the home of our hostess for the evening; a very pleasant and smiling American woman who had lived in Dharamsala for some time now after stints in Italy and Texas. We had a few snacks and beverages, and prepared for the arrival of Geshe La. Our group was a motley crew of seekers and learners, mostly from the US, but also from Australia, Sweden and Austria. We all had different backgrounds and histories, but had a common purpose in wanting to live a more peaceful and happy life, to end as much suffering as we could, and be more compassionate and loving beings. As Geshe La entered the room, we all bowed, took our prospective pillow seats, and began to ingest the plentiful metaphorical wisdom that this man had come to impart to us. He spoke near perfect English, had an immaculate ability to relate things to a group of western minds, and smiled and laughed the whole time.
Destination Question (and Answer)
View Courtesy of the Hostess
As he addressed questions from various people, some submitted beforehand through emails, he calmly and eloquently put forth answers through his understandings of the teachings of the buddha. Brilliantly using metaphors and illustrative similes, he dispersed plain, yet poignant wisdom with the ease of water flowing downhill. No question was left unanswered, and though sometimes there was no answer, he would skillfully elaborate on some of the complex theories and conditions of human cognition, behavior, and suffering, and apply buddhist philosophy as a form of ailment and relief. All of us were smiling and nodding, each taking small bits of knowledge and wisdom from certain explanations, and applying it to our own struggles. But one of the most helpful things that I learned was to first understand your struggle, the root of your suffering, before attempting to pursue and eradicate it.
Blessings of Presence
When the session was over, Geshe La stayed and conversed with us for another hour or so, answering personal questions, offering blessings, and just plain being compassionate. The room was glowing, and the vibrations were very positive, as the whole experience was very nourishing for all of us. It is always rewarding to be in the presence of a genuinely pious person, and the confidence and compassion I witnessed gave me strength and courage, knowing that I already have that power if I should choose to pursue it.
We are all brought into this world with the power and ability to seek and cultivate ultimate happiness, and to eliminate suffering from our lives, which is very simply what “nirvana” means. We need not look any further than within our own hearts and minds. If you can quiet your consciousness, and create stillness of mind and soul, then you can master a spirituality that is God’s greatest gift to us all, one that has been so frequently clouded and polluted by conditions of modern society. The lack of understanding and even ignorance of our own power and responsibility to improve and heal ourselves and souls is the root of the suffering in many people’s lives. We are all divine, made from the stuff of stars and heaven, God’s children, and have this timeless knowledge and wisdom embedded in our own star dust bones.
A view high above Dharamsala
