PART II: Karmic Crossing
Chapter 7- Sarnath: Their Paths Cross
Jennifer arrived at JFK three hours before the flight was scheduled to leave, just as the Lamas had instructed her. She had to wait with her luggage until the check-in counter opened for her flight. She walked around the hall looking for her Teachers but they had not arrived yet. Soon she saw the distinguishing flash of maroon and saffron robes enter the hall and approached the Lamas, asking if she could help with their luggage. They declined explaining they needed to get some exercise before the long flight. They had arrived just as the check-in counter opened. Once their luggage was checked and their boarding passes were in hand, the Lamas suggested they go pass the two remaining hours before their flight over tea. They found a small round table and the younger Khenpo brother went to get tea for three. He returned and they all drank tea with milk, no sugar, as the brothers were diabetic.
“Have you seen Katherine, yet?” the Lamas asked Jennifer. Katherine was one of the other American students who would be travelling to India on the same flight.
“No. She must be arriving any minute, now. I’ll keep my eye on the check-in counter for her.” Jennifer replied. The Lamas asked Jennifer how her acting career was going.
“Not so well,” she replied. “I’m working some short circus jobs here and there but not having any luck getting any long term acting work in the City. The auditions are really competitive. I am considering giving up on acting and getting into teaching.”
“Teaching what?” the older brother asked.
“French or theater. I have a degree in both these areas and both my Mom and Stepfather have suggested I follow in their footsteps– for a steady income and job security,” she replied.
“You should continue acting. It gives you a lot of freedom and you are unattached. This allows you to travel and be like a wandering yogi, just like the Buddha!” the younger Khenpo brother explained. Jennifer appreciated their confidence and approval of her bohemian lifestyle.
Just then, Jennifer saw Katherine approach the check-in counter. She excused herself to go greet her. Katherine and Jennifer were good friends. They had grown close in the Sangha, attending teachings together and working on the temple walls together. Katherine was a bit older than Jennifer and the two had a sisterly relationship. They looked like they could be related– Katherine had long strawberry blond hair, fair skin and pale blue eyes. They also shared a common past as Katherine had once attended the same summer camp in Vermont as Jennifer.
Katherine had arrived just in time, their flight was called for boarding and they all headed towards the gate. The Lamas spent the entire flight in silent recitation of mantra and meditation. Jennifer noticed that they hardly slept like most of the passengers. She was too excited to sleep and spent most of the flight reading, writing, and praying alongside the Lamas.
They had a short layover in Europe and then continued on to Delhi. They arrived early in the morning when it was still dark. The moment they landed the Lamas took a very protective role over her and Katherine. Having never travelled to Asia before, they felt responsible for their safety. Soon after passing through customs they were greeted by Loretta, wearing a red beret, who had arrived in Delhi a few days previously after a shopping trip to Nepal. She helped them all find their luggage which did not ride around a conveyer belt like Jennifer was used to back in the States but sat randomly all over the terminal floor, waiting to be claimed.
They left the terminal and were bombarded by hawkers looking to carry their bags or give them a lift in a rickshaw or taxi. The Lamas and Loretta shooed or pushed them away and made their way through the crowd to a white hired taxi where two Tibetans were waiting for them. “This is Dr. and Mrs. Tashi,” Loretta said in her British accent, introducing Jennifer and Katherine to the Tibetan couple. “They are long time friends of ours. They have found suitable accommodations for you both while we stay here in Delhi for a couple of days before we fly to Varanasi.” Dr. Tashi was dressed in western clothes and Mrs. Tashi wore a salwar kameez, traditional Indian attire for women of a tunic worn over matching pants. The couple greeted the Lamas with white katags and Dr. Tashi quickly took their luggage and put it in the large trunk of the taxi.
“These are our good friends, Katherine and Jennifer,” the older Khenpo brother explained to the Tashis in Tibetan. “They have joined us for pilgrimage.”
“Welcome to India!” said Mrs. Tashi in perfect English to the young women. “I hope you had a comfortable flight and that you are not too tired. Were you able to sleep at all? Is this your first trip to India?”
“No, we didn’t get too much sleep. We were too excited!” replied Kate. “This is our first trip to India. Thank you so much for helping us. Is it always this busy at 4 AM?”
“It’s always busy in Delhi!” Mrs. Tashi replied.
“And I thought New York City was ‘the city that never sleeps!’” Kate laughed.
The American women were dropped off at their hotel to rest and Loretta came in to make sure they were comfortable. She told them to rest, wash up and then get ready for a nice meal and tea in the city center with everyone. The two were so jet lagged that as soon as Loretta left they both fell on their beds into a deep sleep. Eight hours later, they were woken by the phone. Jennifer answered. “Hello?”
“We are waiting for you in the taxi downstairs.” It was Loretta. “Are you up and dressed, yet?”
“No, we’ve been asleep since you last left us. We must have slept straight through the alarm. We’ll be down in ten minutes.”
“All right. But please hurry. The Lamas are waiting for us at the restaurant,” Loretta said before hanging up the phone.
“Kate, Kate, wake up!” Jennifer said as she jumped off the bed and scrambled to find her toiletry bag in her suitcase.
“What? What time is it?” she said in a confused manner, looking at the alarm clock. “Oh no, I forgot to set the alarm!”
“Loretta just called. She’s waiting for us downstairs in the taxi. We’ve got to move,” Jennifer said through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“But I need to shower and change.”
“I know, so do I, but there’s no time. The Lamas are waiting at the restaurant for us.” The two fumbled their way down to the lobby feeling no better than they had eight hours before. The jetlag had a strong hold on them yet. Loretta looked bright and chipper and opened the door for them to climb into the large cab. There were two rows of seating, one facing the other, and the driver wore a turban.
“Connaught Place, please,” Loretta said to the driver. “We’re going to eat at this great old Tea House, very British,” she explained. “It’s right in the center of Old Delhi with some great shopping.”
This was the first time the two Americans had seen Delhi in the daylight. The sights and sounds quickly woke them up out of their jetlagged daze. The streets were crowded with taxis, mopeds, rickshaws, both electric and man-powered, many bicycles, pedestrians and even cows. As they sat in the quiet and safety of the taxi they held scarves over their mouths to keep from breathing in the exhaust and pollution. It was like watching a three-ring circus. Everywhere they looked there was an interesting scene to behold. Street vendors, shops, and so many people! “How do they all manage to fit into this space together?” Jennifer wondered to herself. “It’s like a controlled chaos of some kind.”
They arrived into the big circle of Connaught Place and Loretta directed the driver to the restaurant. They got out of the cab and entered the restaurant, greeted by the host. He recognized Loretta and brought her to the table where the Lamas were patiently waiting and drinking tea at a large round table set with a white tablecloth, silver and china. “Tashi Delegs!” the Lamas greeted them in Tibetan. “How did you sleep? Are you hungry? The food is so delicious here. This is our favorite restaurant in Delhi!”
“And it’s very clean, too,” added Loretta. She had warned the young women about the dangers of bacteria in the food and water in India. She told them they couldn’t be too careful.
They were soon joined by Dr. and Mrs. Tashi who sat in the last two chairs. They all enjoyed a delicious Indian meal of curries, rice, daal, and naan. After the meal the Lamas were taken back to the Tashis home to rest while Loretta and Mrs. Tashi took Jennifer and Kate to the shops around Connaught Place. They bought some postcards to send home and enjoyed the sights. A few hours later the Americans took a cab back to their hotel and were finally able to freshen up. They wrote postcards and chatted excitedly about the next leg of the journey to Varanasi.
That night they were invited to eat dinner at the Tashis’ home. The couple had three children, all around the same age as Jennifer, in their twenties. The Tashis’ home was large and comfortable with an air cooler. The daughters had prepared a delicious meal and they all dined together, listening to the stories the Lamas told about their shared times together with the Tashis over the years. After a simple dessert of refreshing papaya, Dr. Tashi swore by it as a daily digestive, a taxi was called to take the Americans back to their hotel. “Sleep well tonight, girls,” Loretta said as she saw them off. “We’ll be fetching you early in the morning for the flight to Varanasi. Don’t forget to set the alarm this time!”
Kate and Jennifer tried desperately to fall asleep soon after their return to the hotel room. It was futile, though. Their inner clocks were still on American time. They tossed and turned, watched TV, wrote in their journals, and finally fell asleep just two hours before the alarm clock rang. They jumped up and made sure to be waiting in the lobby when Loretta and the taxi arrived to take them to the airport.
The flight to Varanasi was short, just a couple of hours. The airplane was a small commuter plane and their party seemed to take up half of the seats. The plane touched down at a small airport that had only one runway and as soon as they stepped off the plane the Rinpoches were greeted by a group of Tibetans with white katags in hand. They were led outside to more taxis and all together the group made a caravan of white taxis and motorcycles to the village of Sarnath, just outside the city of Varanasi.
During the ride to Sarnath, Jennifer got out her video camera and taped this moment they had anticipated for so long. They passed fields of mustard greens in yellow full bloom lined with tropical palm trees and occasional shacks along the road. The driver was playing Bollywood songs, Indian pop music, that had a catchy rhythmic beat and beautiful Hindi vocals. She and Kate were making pilgrimage to the Khenpo brothers’ monastery in Sarnath. They had heard so much about this sacred place from their Teachers and found it hard to believe that they were now moments away. They saw the lead taxi that was driving the Rinpoches turn into a small side street and Jennifer read the sign that said “Pema Samye Chokor Ling.” They had arrived!
The taxis stopped outside the gate to the monastery and as they got out they heard the sounds of traditional Tibetan ritual instruments: the high pitched wails of the lingbu, a Tibetan clarinet that is played with rhythmic breathing, and the deep blows of the rarung, a long Tibetan metal horn that sounded like elephants’ calls. There was quite a commotion as the Khenpo brothers were welcomed with great ceremony. A red-robed crowd of monks and lamas lined the courtyard, all holding white katags and burning Tibetan incense sticks in their hands. Some of the monks were as small as five years of age. The stone ground was decorated with white chalk in the traditional Tibetan designs of auspiciousness and wealth.
The Rinpoches were led into the temple where they prostrated three times and then took their seats on their thrones. The rest of the ordained sangha then filed in and respectively prostrated to the Khenpos and took their seats in a hierarchical order according to years ordained. Kate and Jennifer were unable to squeeze into the temple and Jennifer continued taping from outside. They soon realized that they were not going to be a priority at this point. The Rinpoches had not visited India for two years and they were going to be in high demand. There would be a lot more protocol to be followed now, too. Things were much more casual back in their American sangha. Here in India the Tibetans kept a very tight etiquette of respect and tradition in regards to ceremony and the Rinpoches.
Jennifer noticed that she and Kate were not the only westerners who were there. There were several others, taking pictures and trying to catch a glance of the Rinpoches through the crowded temple doorway. Loretta came and got Jennifer and Kate, telling them that a traditional welcoming tea ceremony was taking place and she wanted Jennifer to film it. She ushered them through the crowd in the door and brought Jennifer straight to the center shrine and instructed her to film the ceremony from that angle. Jennifer felt shy and intimidated to be in front of the large crowd of monks and lamas but tried her best to capture the moment on film. Everyone was given a cup of Tibetan butter tea and a plate of drisi, sweet butter rice with raisins. They drank and ate in silence while all the devotees lined up to offer their katags and receive blessings from the Khenpos. At the end of the ceremony the Rinpoches were taken up to their private apartment and Loretta introduced Jennifer and Kate to Thubten and Kunga, two young Tibetan men who worked for the monastery.
“Jennifer and Kate, I want you to meet Thubten and Kunga,” she said. “Thubten lives here at the monastery and runs the office. He is our administrator. If you have any questions or concerns he can help. Kunga is our doctor and lives around the corner where he runs a small clinic. Many of our young monks come from Kunga’s village in Nepal.”
“Tashi Delegs,” said Thubten and Kunga simultaneously, welcoming them both in Tibetan. Thubten continued in school-learned English, “I will show you to your room. Let us take your luggage for you.” He and Kunga went to the gate where the luggage had been dropped off and the Americans helped them find their bags.
“Are you staying a long time?” Kunga asked as he picked up their heavy bags.
“We are planning to stay the entire month; we are following the same itinerary as the Khenpos,” replied Jennifer.
“I may stay on a bit longer to also visit Nepal,” answered Kate.
“Yes, you must visit Nepal. That is where I come from. You have come all the way from America, you should stay a long time,” said Kunga. Kunga and Thubten were both Tibetans born in exile. Kunga was born in Nepal and Thubten in India. Both had been schooled by the refugee communities and were fluent in Tibetan, Hindi and English.
The Tibetans carried the luggage up the stairs to the second floor of the monastery where there was a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Their room was just off this balcony. Thubten opened the double French doors which were painted orange and put the bags in the corner by the shelves. “I hope you will be comfortable here. Unfortunately we are having trouble with the plumbing right now so the shower is not working. You will have to fetch water in a bucket from the pump in the courtyard near the kitchen if you want to wash. Kunga and I have some business to tend to so we must excuse ourselves.
“Thank you for your help, it is nice to meet you both,” said Kate.
“Yes, thank you for the help with our luggage. Sorry our bags are so heavy and caused you trouble. We Americans have too much stuff,” excused Jennifer as the Tibetans left their small room. Their bags seemed to take up half the floor space in the small room. There were two beds, hand-made out of wood, with very thin and hard mattresses.
“We shouldn’t have any trouble getting up early sleeping on these beds,” said Kate as she sat down on one to try it out. “Do you mind if I take this one? I’d rather not be next to the courtyard window.” she asked Jennifer as she started to unpack her bags.
“No problem,” said Jennifer. “I have no preference.” She joined Kate in unpacking and felt like she was back in summer camp, dividing up the shelves between each other in the humble shared space. Jennifer found the chocolate bars she had brought over as presents for the monks. She knew that most of them were children and figured that chocolate was one of those universal pleasures that she could share with them. She told Kate she was going to make rounds introducing herself to her monastic neighbors and gift them the chocolates.
She stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the courtyard and watched some of the monks playing below. They were admiring the motorcycles parked by the gate and taking turns riding a bicycle that belonged to the monastery cook. She then knocked on the orange set of doors to the room just next to her own. A shy, skinny monk in his twenties opened the door.
“Tashi Delegs,” she said, in her fledgling Tibetan. “My name is Jennifer. I am from America. I am staying next door and wanted to give you this chocolate as a gift.”
“No English, no English,” was all he was able to say as he nervously accepted the Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bar from her hand before quickly closing the door to his chamber. “That did not go over as planned,” Jennifer thought to herself as she continued on with her rounds. She did not see her neighbor emerge from his room for the following three days. The other monks were very social and the children were especially playful and appreciative of the chocolate. The young monks were very excited to learn English and were like little circus clowns, daring each other to speak to her with beginner expressions like “Okay!” “Hello!” “How are you?” “My name is,” and “Bye, bye!”
At meal times some of the older monks helped her learn Tibetan, teaching her the names of food and objects around the room like “Choksi” for table, “Kembi” for spoon, and “Dri” for rice. The food that was served at the monastery was simple and unchanging. Jennifer noticed that her shy neighbor always took his meals in his room. She wondered if this was his normal routine or if her presence had scared him away. It definitely wasn’t routine for women to stay in the monastery but the Khenpos allowed their American students, both male and female, to stay in the guest rooms. “Perhaps it was her red hair and outgoing nature that intimidated him?” she wondered.
Kate and Jennifer adapted to the monastery routine, rising with the morning gong at five AM and joining the monks for prayers in the second floor shrine room dedicated to Guru Rinpoche which also served as a library and classroom. They had no need to set an alarm while staying at the monastery– the Hanuman (Hindu Monkey God) temple across the street did a fine job of waking the entire village at 4:30 with taped musical worship over their loud speaker system. The first morning that Kate and Jennifer heard it they burst out laughing and danced. It sounded like dance party music and they promised to somehow get a recording of it as a souvenir before they returned home.
Jennifer also attended the Tibetan language classes taught to the young monks. These classes were taught by her shy neighbor. She learned that he was named Tsering. After a few days adjusting to his new pupil, he grew more comfortable with her presence. Jennifer had started to study Tibetan the previous year as her practice of the sadhanas, or spiritual practice, had deepened. After mastering the Tibetan alphabet she had taught herself how to read and write basic words and phrases. Most of the Tibetan she had learned, however, was not conversational but related to the Dharma. So she was unable to speak at all. Tsering noticed that Jennifer had a steady artistic hand and instructed her in the practice of Tibetan calligraphy. She enjoyed the artistry of the beautiful script but unfortunately did not understand the meaning of the words she was copying using black ink from a glass bottle and a calligraphy pen. Tsering gave grammar lessons to the young monks who sat cross-legged on the marble floor that was covered in thick straw mats. He wrote with chalk on a small green chalkboard and the monks copied his lessons onto their own small black slates or notebooks. Most of them were too young and antsy to follow his well-planned lessons. They chatted amongst themselves in Nepali, their mother tongue, and giggled at the red-headed American lady who had joined their class.
English class for the older monks was given on the roof top of the monastery when the younger monks were on break. It was taught by another American, also a student of the Khenpos, who was living in India while working on a thesis. Jennifer asked Dennis if she could join him to help the monks learn English. She watched as Dennis gave his lesson and then worked with them individually on their conversation according to the lesson of the day. She wasn’t sure if she was helping them progress or causing more distraction. They all seemed to be nervous and laugh a lot in her presence. “Was it because they were monks and she a woman? Or was it the usual nervousness about learning a new language?” she wondered.
A few days had passed since their arrival and Jennifer and Kate had not seen the Khenpos who were busy receiving students and colleagues that had not seen them in two years. Their schedule was tight and they took their meals privately in their apartment that was in the other side of the monastery. One day while Jennifer and Kate were eating lunch upstairs, a monk knocked on the door saying that Rinpoches wished to see them. They quickly followed him back to their apartment, happy to have the opportunity to see their Teachers.
“Tashi Delegs!” they both said to the young women as they entered the apartment. “Are you comfortable? Are you eating well? How is the food? We hear there is a new cook.” The Rinpoches were being cooked for separately by one of the older monks.
“We are great, Rinpoches, thank you. Our room is quite comfortable and the food is healthy,” said Jennifer.
“The evening thukpa isn’t too salty or spicy for you?” they asked. The young women had both left their soup bowls half full the past couple of nights for this very reason. Jennifer and Kate looked at each other, unsure how to answer.
“We will ask the cook to not put in so many chili peppers. We hear he is from Nepal. Nepalese like chilis too much,” they laughed. “How do you like the village of Sarnath? Have you ventured out of the monastery, yet?”
“No, not yet. We have been enjoying the monastic routine and getting to know the monks. The children are so full of energy!” replied Jennifer.
“Well, we should all take a tour of the village together then! We can visit the museum where many beautiful architectural artifacts and stone carvings of the Buddha are housed and then walk to Deer Park. There we can circumambulate the Stupa and take a tour of the ruins. How does tomorrow sound?” they asked.
“We look forward to it!” the women replied.
The next day the Rinpoches led a group of the Americans and senior monks on the tour as promised. Deer Park was beautiful. The younger Khenpo brother explained the historical significance of the different ruins to them as Jennifer took photos of the many red stone carvings of miniature Buddhas and pillars ornately carved with decorative floral designs. At the far end of the park there were deer who roamed in the woods. Villagers sold vegetables and grain to the pilgrims to feed to the animals. Jennifer and Kate enjoyed offering the deer carrots through the holes in the wire fence that separated them. The deer were young and their coats were soft and spotted white. Jennifer was able to stroke their soft noses.
The group then made their way to the large red brick stupa that had been built on the very spot where the Buddha had given his first teaching on the Four Noble Truths over two thousand years ago. Jennifer watched as the Khenpo brothers held their hands in the lotus mudra over their heart centers and offered prayers before entering the circumambulation path that led pilgrims clockwise around the stupa. They then approached the structure and touched their foreheads to it to receive blessings before they began to make circumambulation. The group of monks and Americans followed behind them, chanting mantras and joining the many other pilgrims who had come from all over the world to this very spot to purify, make offerings, and walk together in this clockwise rotation towards enlightenment. Jennifer noticed that some of the Tibetan women who had travelled from Ladakh were prostrating themselves around the stupa, their foreheads dirty from touching the ground continuously. She was deeply moved by their devotion.
After the group had finished their circumambulation the Khenpos led a ceremony during which many candles were lit at the base of the stupa and prayers were chanted. The monks joined in while the Americans sat and meditated, absorbing the serenity and pure energy of this sacred place and moment and then offering it back to the universe. After the ceremony the group slowly dispersed, each going their own way at their own pace.
The next few days at the monastery were spent in preparation for the upcoming celebration of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, the biggest holiday in the Tibetan year. Everyone in the monastery was busy cleaning, cooking, painting, washing, and organizing for the upcoming festivities. Loretta asked Jennifer and Kate to help clean the Rinpoches apartment. The older Khenpo brother was busy cleaning out his closet and the two women asked if they could help. He joyfully welcomed their assistance and enjoyed telling them anecdotes as he pulled various objects down off the shelves, taking a trip down memory lane. He particularly enjoyed finding two little finger puppets of a dark-haired boy and a red-haired girl. He playfully put them on his fingers and pretended that the red-headed puppet was Jennifer. They all had a good laugh.
Then Khenpo sat on his bed and asked Jennifer if she wanted to help work on some of the painting projects that were going on. He told her that one of the senior monks, Tsering, was a skilled painter and needed assistance painting two of the statues housed in the second and third floor temples of the monastery. He explained to her that Tsering did not speak English at all but that by working together they would have the opportunity to learn each other’s languages. She accepted the Khenpo’s proposition with enthusiasm.
The next day she found Tsering in the second floor shrine with many brushes and paints. “Tashi Delegs,” she said to him. He stuck his tongue out to her as a sign of respect. Jennifer had noticed many of the monks doing this when they were in the presence of the Rinpoches so she knew it had to be a respectful gesture in the Tibetan custom and was not insulted. Jennifer pointed to the paints and then made use of her clowning skills as she made charade-like gestures of painting as she said, “May I help you paint?”
Tsering looked at her with a confused expression and laughed nervously. “What is she doing? Is this the way Americans always talk, with their hands?” he thought to himself. Knowing that she didn’t understand Tibetan he just nodded. Jennifer thought his silence was just due to his shyness and continued to do all the talking.
“What are we going to paint, then? This statue of Guru Rinpoche?” she asked.
“Guru Rinpoche,” Tsering repeated, happy to understand something of what she was talking about, finally.
“What color, then?” she said as she started opening the cans of thick oil paint. The statue had originally been painted by the Bhutanese sculptors who were commissioned to make the statues for the monastery, but the Khenpos were not happy with the colors they used. They explained to Jennifer that they were particularly displeased with the color of Guru Rinoche’s skin, that it was too pink. It was true, the shade of pink was very close to the color of Pepto Bismol, Jennifer thought. The Khenpos explained that the scriptures describe Guru Rinpoche’s skin to be creamy white with pink undertones. Jennifer found a can of white and red paint each that could be mixed to find just the right tone.
“Red,” she said while pointing to the can of red paint.
“Marpo,” he replied.
“White,” she said as she pointed to the other can.
“Karpo,” he replied.
“So Marpo means red and karpo means white,” she confirmed to herself. “Marpo red, karpo white,” she repeated out loud, as she always did when learning new terms. Tsering just stared at her curiously as she started to mix the two colors in an empty glass jar. She showed him the new color and taking the jar from her hand, he held it up to the statue. He took over the mixing, adding more white to the jar as he said, “Karpo, karpo.” Jennifer thought that the color was too pale now and added more red to it saying, “Marpo, marpo.” Tsering disagreed and added more white, “Karpo, karpo.” They went back and forth like this several times, finally arriving at an agreement. This unlikely pair continued to find a way to communicate together and grew comfortable in the silence that was shared when words could not be found.
The night before the Tibetan New Year, Kate and Jennifer thought to venture out into the village to find fresh flowers for sale to offer to the shrine. They had not been out of the monastery at night before and it was exciting to see the village lit up by fire, candles and little electric lights strung on wire. They stopped at every stall to look if there were flowers for sale but it seemed that all the flower sellers had sold out of their wares or had returned home for the evening. Kate had an idea.
“Let’s go to one of the Hindu temples. I know they have marigolds. Maybe if we make a small offering they will let us take some leis with us as a blessing,” she suggested.
“Really? Is that kosher?” asked Jennifer, surprised that Kate would think of such thing.
“Why not? Our intentions are good, right?” Kate asked.
“All right, if you say so,” agreed Jennifer. She hadn’t thought of Kate as so daring and was not used to the sudden change in roles. The girls heard the sound of drumming and bells up on the moonlit hill.
“That must be a temple up there, let’s go!”
Jennifer felt a rush of adrenaline as they ran up the stone steps to the temple. She was nervous to be entering a Hindu temple at night. Something about the energy made her feel uneasy. She reminded herself that they were on a simple quest for flowers and to just be calm. When they reached the top of the hill they were at the entrance to an open-air temple made of stone. They slowly entered and were greeted by the warm smile of a tall, skinny sadhu with thick dreadlocks wrapped on the top of his head who attended the shrine.
“Namaste,” the two women said, holding their hands in lotus mudra to their hearts.
“Namaste,” the sadhu replied. Kate noticed the large stone lingham in the center of the temple and giggled. She nudged Jennifer and looked over at it saying, “This must be a temple in worship to Shiva,” knowing that the symbol of the lingham is related to the popular Hindu God.
“Shiva,” the sadhu repeated, indicating a statue of the Deity in a small alcove off the main shrine. He gestured that the women should enter and worship. Jennifer nervously followed Kate into the alcove and they looked at the statue respectfully. When they came out the sadhu was holding marigold leis in offering of respect to the women. Kate bowed her head first as the sadhu put the bright orange necklace of flowers around her neck. Jennifer followed. The sadhu smiled and put his hands in lotus mudra to his heart and turned to walk away.
“We should probably leave now, Kate,” Jennifer said. She was appreciative of the old sadhu’s hospitality and did not want to offend him.
“But we need to at least offer him some money for the flowers,” she answered. “Let’s follow him and give him twenty rupees at least.” She looked around the temple and found him standing at the edge of the hill looking out into the starry night. “There he is. Go give him the money.” Jennifer knew it was not necessary but walked up to the old sadhu and against her better judgment held out the paper bill. The sadhu’s face was no longer pleased and he refused to take the money. He had sensed her insincerity in the offering.
The two women quickly left the temple wearing their marigold leis. “Don’t feel bad, Jennifer,” Kate said, sensing that Jennifer had regrets. “Our intentions are not impure. We’re going to offer the flowers to Guru Rinpoche- the Allstar of Indian Gurus!” Jennifer laughed; Kate was absolutely right.
When they arrived back at the monastery the gate was locked. It was late and they had to call someone to let them in. They called several times but no one came. The nearest rooms housed the youngest monks and they must have been fast asleep. Jennifer suggested that she climb the gate and find someone to come back with the key. Still fit from the circus she was able to climb the iron gate and jump back down into the courtyard uneventfully. She saw that the light to Thubten’s office was still on and found him working at the desk. She asked him to follow her back to the gate to let Kate in. Thubten wondered how Jennifer had gotten in and was surprised to find out that she had climbed the fence. He noticed the marigolds around their necks and asked where they got them. He laughed at the two strange Americans as they told their story to him.
Kate and Jennifer climbed the stairs to the second floor and saw that the shrine was still open. Some monks were finishing up preparations for the big celebration that would start before daybreak the next morning. The women entered the shrine and offered the marigolds to the statue of Guru Rinpoche and the two Dakinis, or consorts, at his side. They then went to sleep for the few hours that remained before they would have to rise for the early morning ceremony.
For the next three days the normal monastic routine was put on hold as the three-day holiday was celebrated. Loretta passed out gifts of clothing, school and toiletry supplies to the monks donated by the American sangha members. Kapsi (traditional Tibetan fried dough cookies folded into different shapes), fruit and sweets were handed out to all in generous portions. Everyone offered katags to the Rinpoches and the shrine in a large procession. Rinpoches gave teachings to a large audience of monastics and lay people, many who were students at the Central Institute of Tibetan Higher Studies where the older Khenpo brother had taught earlier in his career. There was also a traditional debate performed for all. Tsering had been challenged by another of the senior monks, Acharya Govinda, on the topic of the madhyamaka, the Buddhist tradition that views all phenomena to be empty in nature. Everyone was thoroughly entertained by the debate even though most of them could not grasp its meaning. Tibetan debate is stylized with a kind of dance in which the monks take steps towards each other, swinging their malas, or prayer beads, in the air as they clap their hands together loudly to emphasize a point or intimidate the opponent. It was a sight to behold–these two monks who were so physically different in size, stature and demeanor in debate. Acharya Govinda was a very large Indian man, both tall and robust. Tsering, a short and skinny Tibetan man, was dwarfed in comparison by his opponent. Govinda was extremely confident in public speaking and seemed to almost bully Tsering who was nervous and shy in front of the crowd, constantly clearing his throat before he spoke. Even though Jennifer could not understand the content of the debate it was obvious who had won.
After the three-day Losar festivities had concluded, Loretta told the girls that it was time to pack a bag for the pilgrimage to Shravasti, the holy site where the Buddha spent the rainy season in retreat. The Khenpos owned a piece of land there that they wanted to consecrate in preparation for the construction of a stupa dedicated to world peace. The Rinpoches invited the senior monks and the American students to join them for the journey.