“Lotus Love” Chapter 14- Rajpur & Clementown: Saga Dawa Wedding

Chapter 14- Rajpur & Clementown: Saga Dawa Wedding

The next morning the young couple woke up and went to the Tibetan market to visit Dolma and discuss their next steps on the paper trail.  Tsering handed Dolma his newly acquired birth certificate.

“Yagpo duk.  Good!” she said, looking it over and explaining that she was going to bring it to another office where she would help Tsering file a refugee certificate application.  This office was located in Clementown, Dolma’s home settlement, located on the opposite end of the city from the settlement named Dekyiling where they had visited the day before.  Dolma said she would go there together with them later that day when she was ready to return home from the market.  She rehearsed the story with Tsering a couple of times so that he was clear on the details of his new life history.  His parents?  Deceased.  His relationship to Dolma?  His Auntie.  His place and date of birth?  Dekyiling, Dehradun, 10/10/1978.  His address? House #203, Clementown, Dehradun.  Once Tsering seemed to have memorized his part, Dolma told the couple to return back to the market after lunch.

Jennifer and Tsering decided to explore the downtown area of Dehradun while they waited for Dolma.  They walked through the dusty, crowded city streets where Jennifer noticed a movie theater.  A poster of Madonna caught her eye and she looked up at the marquee where, sure enough, Madonna’s film “Body of Evidence” had top billing.  Jennifer found this odd– she expected Bollywood films to be playing, not American romantic thrillers starring the sultry Princess of Pop.

“Hey, Tsering, do you want to go see a movie while we wait?” Jennifer asked.  She wanted to escape the heat and thought it might be fun for Tsering to see an American film.  “Have you ever heard of Madonna?”  Tsering looked back at her with a blank stare.  Apparently he hadn’t.  “Come on, let’s check it out.”

They bought two tickets and entered the large, dark theater.  Jennifer noticed, as usual, she was the only white person and the only woman as well.  “Do women not go to the movies in India?” she wondered to herself.  She felt the Indian men staring at her and was relieved when the lights dimmed and the movie began to roll.  The movie turned out to be a dud.  Still, they were able to escape the heat of the noon day sun and seek refuge in the cool, dark theater for a couple of hours.  Even though the film was boring– Tsering had fallen asleep thirty minutes in– Jennifer took comfort in the familiarity of her American culture experienced through the big screen.  As they exited the theater they passed through a dark narrow hallway that was crowded with the other young male Indian audience members.  Jennifer lost sight of Tsering in the crowd and suddenly felt herself being groped by a stranger.  It was too dark to see who was responsible but as soon as they exited into the sunlight she turned around a gave a vicious stare at a young Indian man with a mustache whose bold, guilty smile did little to conceal his guilt.  He didn’t even divert his gaze from hers, enjoying the knowledge that he’d been “caught.”  Jennifer supposed that she had broken Indian custom going to a movie alone with a man and that the rude Indian had somehow felt entitled to take advantage of the situation to satisfy his own animal cravings.  Jennifer suddenly missed America for the first time since she had left home five months ago.  She missed the freedom and relative equality afforded her back home in the States, where women could attend movies without fear of chastisement, let alone sexual harassment.

Jennifer pulled herself together and started to look for Tsering.  He was waiting on the other side of the street for her, unaware of what had just transpired.  She noticed him standing on the outskirts of a circled crowd.  He saw her and motioned for her to join him.  Curious what everyone was looking at, Jennifer crossed the street and stood up on her tippy toes, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the attraction.  It was a street performer and his circus bear.  Jennifer remembered seeing a similar street act in St. Petersburg, Russia where she traveled with the Khenpos while they were giving Dharma teachings to the Russian sangha members.  She had a picture of herself holding the adorable brown bear cub on that cold sunny day along the banks of the Neva River.  Remembering this picture, she took out her camera and asked Tsering to pose with the Indian bear.  Jennifer noticed Tsering was scared to approach the bear so she explained that he was trained, not wild, and that he need not worry.  Although leery and hesitant, Tsering agreed to pose with the bear for Jennifer.  She took the picture and gave the owner some rupees as payment.  She felt sorry for the bear.  It was one of those situations where she did not agree with the exploitation of animals in this way but at the same time she wanted to help the creature by at least making sure his owner had enough money to take proper care of the animal.

It was time to return to the market and meet-up with Dolma.  She was waiting for them when they arrived.  They left the market together and took an autorickshaw to Clementown, the other Tibetan settlement just outside the city of Dehradun.  Dolma led them to the settlement office where she announced her arrival.  She instructed Jennifer to stay outside while she and Tsering met with the local leader.  It was not long before Dolma and Tsering came back out.  Dolma explained to them that she and Tsering had succesfully submitted the application and that it would take up to a month to process the Refugee Certificate.  She knew that they were working under a time constraint– Jennifer’s six-month Indian visa was due to expire in a month’s time– so she had requested Tsering’s application to be expedited.  Hopefully it would take just a couple of weeks to process.  She encouraged the couple to take some time to relax and explore their surroundings.  The holy month of Saga Dawa was approaching and the couple could make pilgrimage to the local monasteries and make offerings to generate good merit while they waited.

Jennifer was growing tired of staying in the city at the Rang Mahal and asked if Dolma had any suggestions for others places to stay.  Dolma told them about the village called Rajpur that was located just outside the city limits where many Tibetans were living.  Jennifer and Tsering had unkowingly passed through the small village on their way to Mussorie to go swimming.  They decided to go there that evening and check it out.  The rickshaw dropped them off at the side of the dirt road that led through the center of the village.  Tsering asked some Tibetans walking by if they knew about rooms for rent.  They directed the couple to a guesthouse down the road that also ran a small Tibetan restaurant.

Jennifer and Tsering were hungry for dinner so they sat down at a table and ordered two bowls of thentuk– Tibetan hand-pulled noodle soup.  They asked the young girl who served them about rooms for rent.  The girl replied that she would find the owner and send her out to meet them.  An older Tibetan lady came out to greet them and offered to show them the available rooms after they were through with their meal.  The home-style atmosphere was a welcome change from the dingy accommodations of the Rang Mahal and the couple agreed to rent a private room.

The following day they decided to visit the Sakya monastery that was just down the road a bit.  As they approached the monastery they noticed there was a large crowd of Tibetans dressed in their best gathering outside the temple.  They realized a ceremony must have been underway.  Tsering asked some of the people what was going on and they told him His Eminece Sakya Trizin Rinpoche was offering a Purba Wang that very day.  Tsering and Jennifer had received Purba Wang, or Vajrakiliya empowerment, together from Phagchok Rinpoche when they traveled to Nepal together.  Now they were about to have the good fortune of receiving it again from the Head of the Sakya lineage.

Inside the dark red temple with black trimmed windows, the higher ranked monks and lamas conducted the ritual ceremony while hundreds of devotees, both ordained and lay, continued to gather outside to receive empowerment and blessing.  The energy and excitement in the crowd started to mount as their numbers grew larger.  Jennifer noticed several large monks guarding the steep steps to the open doors at the main entrance of the temple.  They held long wooden sticks horizontally across their bodies, turning them into make-shift fences to keep the swelling crowd at bay.  Jennifer had never attended such a large gathering of Tibetans before.  She was used to the calm and orderly Dharma events back home with her Western sangha.  This huge gathering of Tibetans felt more like a British football event than a religious occasion.  The general attitude in the crowd was one of excitement and impatience.  Everyone wanted to be the first to make offerings and the first to receive blessings.  There was no line or clear flow of movement.  It was a hap-hazard dog-eat-dog fight to the front of the crowd.  Jennifer was bewildered and confused to see the normally mild-natured, patient Tibetans turn into a seemingly frenzied crowd of overgrown children.  The large security-guard monks used their large wooden sticks to push the crowd back when they got too close to the entrance.  Young and old kept pushing forward in swells and waves, almost crushing those up front.  Jennifer noticed that everyone around her was smiling and laughing, enjoying the sport of it all.  Tsering seemed to take great delight in it as well.  She heard some young men make cowboy-like shrill calls which just encouraged the frenzied crowd even more.  Jennifer started to worry that there might be a stampede of some kind like the ones that happen at the British football matches.

One of the security monks must have seen the fear in her eyes and had compassion for her because just as it was time to start allowing small sections of the crowd to ascend up the stairs to receive their blessings, he pulled her up over the wooden barrier and allowed her to be one of the first up the steps.  She turned and pointed to Tsering who was still in the seething crowd below her.  The monk understood and held his hand out to Tsering and lifted him, too, above the wooden barrier and allowed him to pass with Jennifer.  They both offered rupees wrapped in katags and were blessed with ritual purbas, or daggers,  on the crown of their heads.  They were both quickly ushered down the side steps and Jennifer was relieved to be out of the crazy congestion of the crowd.  Back out on the road they watched the continuing chaos from afar and laughed.

They took a stroll up the road towards Mussorie and stopped at a roadside resort for lassies.  The outdoor patio looked out onto a gorgeous view of the valley and a wind chime rang harmonic chords in the breeze.  After they were refreshed from their lassies they walked back down into the village of Rajpur.  The couple settled into a comfortable routine of village life for the next week, enjoying the simple passage of time together.  They spent the days in prayer and meditation, strolls in the hills, reading, study and language lessons.  They were completely free from work or worry.  All they had to do was wait.  After the passage of ten days they decided to return back to Dehradun to check in on the status of Tsering’s application.

They found Dolma at the market as usual and with a huge smile on her face she announced that Tsering’s RC had come through.  She took it out of her purse and passed it to Tsering.  After two years in India he was officially documented as part of the Tibetan refugee community.  “You now complete!” Dolma exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.  Tsering handled the light blue book in disbelief.  This was his golden ticket.  He was now eligible to apply for the International Certificate or Yellow Book which would allow him to travel out of India.

“Tu je che, Dolma-la!” Jennifer said to Dolma in thanks.  She reached into her back pack and took out Dolma’s 3,000 rupee payment as agreed.  She handed it to Tsering who then wrapped the stack of 100 rupee notes into a khatag and offered them to Dolma in payment and thanks.

“You go America, remember Dolma!” the old lady said cheerfully.

“We’ll never forget you, Dolma-la!” Jennifer replied affectionately.  This woman had helped them overcome a huge obstacle in their future lives together.  Without her there may have been no going forward with their plans.  Now that they had the RC book they could go back to Delhi and apply for Tsering’s IC.  Excited to proceed with the next steps, the couple went back to the guesthouse in Rajpur and packed their things.

The bus ride back to Delhi was uneventful and Jennifer was feeling relieved that things were coming together.  They checked back into the Tashi Delegs house in Majnukatilla and ate a celebratory dinner of Tingmo– steamed bread, and Phing Sha– bean thread noodles with stewed beef, at their favorite restaurant- Amala Dzakhang.  The next morning they took a taxi to the Tibetan Office with a completed IC application and the coveted RC book.  The clerk took Tsering’s paperwork and asked him to wait while she reviewed his documents.  When she returned she explained that the Director of the Office had requested a meeting with him.  She brought him to a small office and introduced him to a Mr. Thubten Wangtso.

Mr. Wangtso explained to Tsering that although he had all the required documentation for an IC, he did not have a compelling reason to be granted one.  He explained that there was a quota on how many ICs could be issued every year and that the number of applications far exceeded this quota.  Those whose applications were approved were usually students looking to study abroad or those who were seeking to reunite with family who had settled in other countries.  Unfortunately, Tsering did not present a compelling need for an IC in his application.  Tsering humbly thanked Mr. Wangtso for his time and left his office.

Jennifer had been waiting outside in the hallway on a bench.  She was anxiously awaiting the verdict.  She saw Tsering leave the office and tried to read the expression on his face to know the outcome.  Jennifer could tell that there was a problem.  “What happened?  Are you going to have to wait a long time to be issued your IC?”

“No,” he replied.  “No wait.”

“Well that’s great!  He’s going to issue you one straight away?”

“No.  He said no IC.”

“What?!” Jennifer was shocked.  “What do you mean no IC?!  You have everything required.  What’s the reason?”

“I no study in America.  I no family in America.”

“But I’m your family in America!  We’re going to get married!  Let me talk to him, let me explain.”

“No, Jenni.  It’s okay.  He said no.  Better no bother.”

“It’s not okay, Tsering-la.  We can’t take no for an answer.  I need to speak with him.”  Jennifer approached the counter and asked the clerk if she could speak with Mr. Thubten Wangtso.  The clerk looked confused and unsure of the protocol.  Jennifer pressed on and insisted that she be allowed to speak with the Director.  Mr. Wangtso happened to be passing through the front area of the office at that moment and Jennifer’s insistence had caught his attention.  He approached the counter.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“Yes, please, Mr. Wangtso, you can.  You just met with my friend Tsering.  He needs to be granted an IC.  Please, if you could give me a few minutes of your time I can explain.”

“Certainly.  Please come to my office.  Ask Tsering to come with you.  I will meet with you both.”

Jennifer and Tsering met Mr. Wangtso in front of his office door.  He invited them in and asked them to take a seat.

“Thank you very much for giving us your time, Mr. Wangtso.  It seems that Tsering may not have completely explained his situation, that is our situation to you.”

“No, he didn’t.  What is your situation?”

“Well, you see, we’re in love.  I don’t know how much Tsering told you about himself– I’m guessing not much.  Before we met he was a monk.  We met in Sarnath and over the course of a few months our friendship evolved into something very special.  Tsering has given up everything to be with me.  He gave up his vows.  My visa expires in one month’s time and he really needs to be granted permission to travel back to America with me.  He has no money, no work, no family here to help him.  He can’t go back to the monastery.  Please, understand that this is real.  We’re not making this up.”

Mr. Wangtso listened with an open mind as Jennifer presented their case.  When she was done he paused before responding, weighing his options with the sincerity of their request.  “You present a highly unusual request.  I do not doubt that what you say to me is true.  However, the amount of requests that this Office receives every day is quite large.  You are essentially competing against many strong applicants.  The waiting list for an IC can last up to a year.”

“With all due respect, sir, we can’t wait that long.  My visa expires in just one month.  Isn’t there a way to expedite Tsering’s application?”

“I want to help you.  I really do.  I suggest that you acquire a marriage certificate to add to Tsering’s application.  That will validate his request.  Once you have it, come back and request to speak with me again.  I believe I will be able to help you then.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wangtso-la, you are very kind.  We really appreciate your time and willingness to help.  We will see you soon.”

“I am glad to help.  That is my job.  Good luck and hope to see you soon.”

The couple left Mr. Wangtso’s office and as they walked down the stairs to the street Jennifer turned to Tsering and in a giddy rush of excitement said, “It’s time to get married!”  Jennifer had hoped that they were going to be able to wait to marry until Tsering had arrived in America and met her family.  She hadn’t planned on eloping.  But it was clear that there was no other choice.

Now they had to figure out how to make a marriage certificate.  They hired a rickshaw back to Majnukatilla and went to visit their friend Ngawang Tsering at the Sunshine Travel Agency to seek his advice.  Ngawang was glad to see his friends again and invited them over to his small one-room home for a simple lunchtime meal of rice and daal cooked in a pressure steamer on a single kerosene burner.  They related their story to him, catching him up on their travels and progress on Tsering’s paper trail since they last saw each other.  Ngawang was impressed with their speed, good luck and determination thus far.

“That’s really wonderful that you were issued the RC so quickly.  As a newer arrival here in India, that was possibly your greatest obstacle.  Congratulations!  As far as a marriage certificate– you have two options.  You can try to get one here in Delhi through the Indian government.  I have heard that some Tibetans do it this way.  Or you can return to Dheradun and get one issued by the local Tibetan Office that issued you your RC.  They may be able to issue you a marriage certificate.”

“We just arrived from Dheradun last night!  I really don’t feel like traveling all the way back there again so soon.  Let’s try making it here in Delhi.  Where should we begin?”  Jennifer asked.

“Well, you will probably need a lawyer.  I don’t know that much about the Indian legal process of marriage.  I can bring you to a taxi and direct him to take you to the Courts.”

“Sure.  Let’s give it a shot.”  Jennifer and Tsering thanked Ngawang for his hospitality and they all walked out of the settlement onto the busy road where Ngawang waved down a taxi for them.  The cab dropped them off in front of a Delhi’s City Court building.  The minute they stepped outside of the cab, they were approached by a throng of men both young and old, dressed in freshly starched white shirts and dress pants, who were vying for their patronage.  They waved their business cards at them and inquired their business.  Tsering spoke with them in Hindi but Jennifer was overwhelmed by their insistence.   She grabbed Tsering’s arm and rushed into the Courthouse.

Unlike the clean, quiet and sterile environment of the Courthouses back home in the States, Jennifer was surprised by the noisy, crowded and filthy condition of this Indian Courthouse.  Instead of white marble pillars and stairways there were cement walls and steps covered in the bright red stains of paan.  It seemed that every man in the building was addicted to the stuff.  She asked for directions to the Marriage Licensing Office.  They walked up the stairs to the second floor and located the correct room after several failed attempts.

Jennifer peeked her head in and saw a woman in a sari standing behind the counter.  She approached and said, “Excuse me, I would like to make a marriage certificate.”

The woman looked back at her with a confused expression.  Jennifer wondered if the woman did not understand her.  “Do you speak English?” Jennifer asked politely.

“Yes.  I speak English.  You are getting married to an Indian?” the woman inquired.

“No.  He is not Indian.  He’s Tibetan.”  Jennifer motioned to the door where Tsering was hovering.

“Marriage Licenses can only be issued to Indians here.  I’m sorry, but as neither of you are Indian, you may not be married by this Court.”

“Oh, I see.  Thank you for your time.  Goodbye,” Jennifer said as she turned to leave.

“The men outside say this, Jenni.  Inside no work.  Outside try better,” Tsering was not surprised by this outcome.  He had spoken with the lawyers outside the Courthouse who had explained that they would not be able to get marriage licensing inside.

“Okay, Tsering-la.  I just wanted to see for myself.  I always try to do things the proper, legit way first.  I don’t trust people who solicit my business like that.  But I guess we don’t have a choice.”

They walked back down to the ground level and exited the Courthouse into the yard.  They were quickly spotted by one of the men who had spoken with Tsering earlier.  He approached them and led them to a small building across the yard where he introduced them to his boss.  The Indian lawyer invited them to take a seat in his office and listened to their circumstances.  After reviewing their situation and he told them that he would be willing to make arrangements for their marriage license for a fee of 50,000 rupees.  He explained that this fee was non-negotiable because he was going to have to pay off several levels of officials in order to push it through.  Once Jennifer heard the astronomical fee she quickly thanked the man for his time and left.

“It looks like we’re headed back to Dheradun, Tsering.  Who in their right mind is going to pay 50,000 rupees just for a piece of paper that somehow proves the love between two people?!  This is crazy.  Why can’t two people just fall in love and be together?  What difference does it make what our nationalities are?  We’re not the first multi-national couple to want to get married!” Jennifer’s frustration mounted as she lost her patience.  She was starting to worry that the fast-approaching one-month deadline for Tsering’s paperwork was not going to be met.  She was worried about what would happen to Tsering if things did not work out.  Where would he go?  What would he do?  He couldn’t go back to Tibet without great risk.  He had no family here in India.  He had no work skills.  She was also starting to worry that her funds were running low.  She could always renew her visa and come back to India to be him after her sister’s wedding, but how would they live?  Would she be able to find work here?  What about her life back home in America?  She sat down on the side of the road and started to cry.  The emotional stress and pressure was too much and had to spill over.

Tsering sat down next to Jennifer and took her hands into his.  He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “Please no cry, Jenni.  You work so hard.  You try your best.  Everything okay.  Yes, now difficult.  Thank you.  Thank you for work so hard.  I no go America, okay.  I okay.  Please no worry me.  Maybe I go back Tibet.  Maybe I stay India.  Who knows?  I find way.  Thank you, Jenni.  Thank you try so hard.”  Tears began to well up in Tsering’s eyes as he said this to Jenni.  She knew that he felt responsible for her troubles and didn’t want to burden her like this.  But their souls were joined in sacred union, there was no going back.

“Don’t talk like that, Tsering.  This is going to work out.  I love you.  I can’t stand the thought of our lives not continuing together.  Even if you can’t come to America with me, I will come back here and live in India with you.  We belong together.”  Tsering’s heart warmed as she said this.  She really loved him and was willing to give up everything for him– just as he had given everything up for her.  In this moment their hearts and minds seemed to intertwine and take root deeply in the depth of their souls.  Tears turned into smiles and the young lovers kissed sweetly as the cows, rickshaws, taxis, bicycles, motorcycles and pedestrians of Indian street life passed by without notice.  And so from the dirty sidewalk of this crowded Delhi street the two lovers picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and recharged their conviction.  This had to work out.  They would make it so.

They hailed a taxi and drove back to Majnukatilla and bought to more tickets back to Dheradun.  That night in their room, Jennifer expressed to Tsering her concerns about the dwindling stack of rupees she carried in her backpack.

“Tsering-la.  We need to think of a way to cut back on our expenses.  All of this travel back and forth is adding up.  Even though our living standards are simple and cheap, we’ve got to find a way to cut back.   After all the application fees and baksheesh, we have only 150 rupees per day to get us through another month.  What can we do?”

“Yes, Jenni.  This is true.  I think it good to buy a cooker.  Like Ngawang has.  It is small and easy to carry when we travel.  Then we don’t need pay restaurants to eat.  Maybe we go market now and buy?”

“That’s an awesome idea, Tsering!  Yes, let’s go right now and find one.  Tan dro!”

They left for the market across the street from the Tibetan settlement.  They were able to find a small green metal kerosene burner, basically a camping stove.  Tsering also bought a small bottle of kerosene oil as fuel.  They had fun at the vegetable market planning their first home-cooked meal together.  They bought rice, lentils, tomatoes, garlic, onion, and cilantro.  They also bought a small pot, and two spoons.  When they got back to their room at the Tashi Delegs guesthouse they walked up to the roof and cooked their first meal together: rice and daal. As they ate, they watched the sun set past the highway and rooftops of Old Delhi while prayer flags and laundry fluttered gently on the summer breeze.  It was a romantic ending to an emotionally challenging day.

The next day they arrived back in Dheradun.  Tsering suggested that they take a ride out to Clementown where they were going to request their marriage certificate.  It would save them travel expenses to be close to the settlement office.  Jennifer liked this idea because she loathed returning to the Rang Mahal and she looked forward to visiting the Nyingmapa Monastery called Mindroling that was in Clementown.  Their rickshaw dropped them off in front of the settlement’s gate and they walked into Clementown carrying their bags and camping stove.  Tsering saw that Jennifer was having a hard time carrying her half of their luggage and kindly suggested she sit and drink tea while he found their accommodations.  He was sincerely concerned about her and also thought they would get a better rate if she was not present at the time of booking.  Jennifer gladly agreed and sat down at a table in a restaurant with a thermos of Boja.

When Tsering returned he had good news– there was a new guesthouse just down the road that had a big private room with a private bath.  The guesthouse was run by two Tibetan ex-monks who were willing to give them a very cheap rate.  Jennifer was pleased and when she saw the room she squealed with delight and gave Tsering a huge hug.  The room was freshly painted and had large windows and clean linens.  She was even going to be able to shower in the private bath.  The thought crossed her mind that she and Tsering would have to take advantage of this privacy.  “It’s like a honeymoon suite, Tsering-la!  Now we just have to get married and make it one!”

The following day the couple went to the Tibetan Welfare Office and inquired about making a marriage certificate.  They relayed their story to the Officer who had met Tsering a couple of weeks prior when he had applied for his RC with Dolma.  He remembered Tsering and was curious to meet Jennifer.

“Yes, we issue marriage certificates from our office.  But normally only for residents of the colony.  We have never issued a certificate for a foreigner before.  But seeing as how you, Tsering, are officially a member of our colony now, I don’t see why we couldn’t do so.  There is no rule stating otherwise.  Have you already had a wedding ceremony?”

“No, not yet.  We were hoping to wait until we arrived in the States so my family could take part,” Jennifer answered.

“Ah, yes, I understand.  In that case, I ask that you make an offering to our local monastery here.  We require that all marriages be conducted according to the traditional Tibetan Buddhist customs.  Are you a Buddhist, Miss?”

“Yes, sir, I am.  Tsering and I met in Sarnath.  I came here to India to make holy pilgrimage with my Lamas who are Khenpos in the Nyingma lineage.”

“That is very good.  Our monastery here is also Nyingma.  If you promise to go make an offering there as part of your marriage blessing I will agree to make your marriage certificate.”

“Thuk je che!  Thank you, sir!  This is really wonderful news.  You have made me so happy!  Tsering-la, isn’t this wonderful?  The Officer is going to marry us!”

“No, I am just making you this piece of paper.  Based upon what you have told me today and the love that I see between you two, you have already married yourselves!”  Jennifer appreciated this man’s honesty and sincerity.  He genuinely wanted to help them and had read their pure intentions.

“So, what shall we use as your date of marriage?  As Tsering will be applying for a visa to the States as soon as he is granted his IC, it is probably best to use the earliest date possible for your marriage certificate.  This will make his visa application more legitimate.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.  Thank you for the suggestion.  Why don’t we put April 4th– 4/4.  That will be an easy date to remember, right, Tsering?”

“4/4 Good,” agreed Tsering.  “Easy.  Lilapo re.”

The Officer typed the dates onto the certificate and a few signatures and stamps later Jennifer and Tsering were officially married.  Jennifer could not believe how easy it was compared to the nightmare they had experienced back in Delhi just the day before.  They thanked the Officer for his good faith and assistance and the newlyweds left the Office.  They headed straight for Mindroling, the Tibetan Nyingma monastery where they had promised to make offerings.

When they arrived at the monastery the temple was quiet and empty.  After making prostrations and offerings to the shrine they then sat in silent meditation and prayer, thanking the Three Jewels of the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha and the the Three Roots of the Guru, Yidam and Dakini for their blessings and protection.  They knew that they had only gotten this far in their journey by the pure grace of their blessings.

The newlyweds then retired to their room for the rest of the day to celebrate their union.  The Holy Month of Saga Dawa was coming to an end and they spent the rest of the week in blissful union, relaxed prayer and retreat, circumambulating the Giant Statue of the Buddha and its surrounding gardens and visiting the other local monasteries.  It was an auspicious start to what was turning into a never-ending honeymoon.