Cha Am, Thailand

Cha Am. Blue Lagoon Guest House And Bar (happily, for us, doing no bar business). Off a main road, in a little “soi”, or alley/street. Picked up at Hua Hin train station at about 4:45 PM by Stu, Brit manager of the guest house, which I believe is owned by his (Thai) girlfriend?, who also owns and runs a little open air eatery a few blocks away, where we ate dinner on day one, located precisely between two soi's that are – TADAH! - the girlie bar district of Cha Am. Nancy gawked at the Lady Boy and Bar Girl young workers getting ready for the evening's business, primping, posturing and dressing, essentially in public, in the open store front bars on either side of our meal. While I ate my meal of rice and vegetables followed by noodle soup, little did I know that Nancy was quietly freaking out at the intensity of where we had just landed, versus where we had just been. It wouldn't be til the next morning that this distress became apparent and named, leading to a change of future plans for Chiang Mai among other things.

Now getting our bearings, had a good Indian lunch yesterday to help settle things, commited ourselves to honoring the rural, natural settings we need, access to a city ok, but not for staying in. Duh. It becomes, apparently, easy to forget where we have lived for the last quarter century, and why we have lived there, and who we are and what we need and want. A bit of culture shock coming from the idyllic rural beach village into the decadent city sex work scene. But I didn't realize that Cha Am was a city, did I?

Yesterday we met with the man himself, JC, originator and perpetuator of the Retire Cheap dot Asia website and Youtube video impressario, and, legitimately, THE guru regarding living in and retiring inThailand from every angle a Westerner would care about or need to know about. I've been watching his regularly updated videos for 7 months, participating in the forum on his member website, and garnering oodles of information – some of it misunderstood due to my own preconceptions and reference points – in prepartion for our travels. JC now lives in Cha Am, having lived in various places as a full time expat in Thailand for 16 years. He is generous with his time and help, especially with members of his site, and we met with him and his Thai wife Nat over coffee and tea for three hours, and talked about an array of subjects, sharing ideas and experiences, all in some direct or indirect way related to living in Thailand. Nancy and I both enjoyed this time very much, as JC is, after all, a great and thoughtful guy, and is accessible, and is a storehouse of pertinent information.

Next day was a busy and eventful one. I got a motorbike, and guess what? I'm liberated! Well, in terms of being able to get farther than a few blocks from our guesthouse. Of course I've gone through a number of reservations about safety – gear, or the lack of it; city traffic; driving on the “wrong”, ie., the left side of the road, etc. I guess though that we're in it now, and the intention is to stay in, within the limts that I can or will be comfortable with. But just riding up and down the beach front road this morning was a revelation: I discovered the beach! There's actually a real beach here in Cha Am, with, in some areas, a couple hundred feet of sand, rather than the barely walkable, rock blocked little non-beach “beach” near our digs. This has opened up an entirely new realm of appreciation for what I was almost ready to dismiss as pretty lame.


Nancy and I had lunch with Scott, from Southern California, and Mike, formerly from Tennessee and DC, and JC, and Nat, and Nat's stunningly beautiful and delightful 9 year old (?) daughter Da Noi

(meaning “small eyes”, which to my eyes, she doesn't really have). Another meeting up with some great people who all have at least one considerable thing in common: a lot or a little to do with Thailand.

So let's have a look at our responses so far to Thailand.

First reaction: this can't work; we can't even eat the food; the food thing could be a deal breaker.

Next reactions: settling into the Albatross at Thang Wua Laen Beach, and developing ways to eat the local food, we feel more hopeful about being able to spend time here.

By the end of two weeks here, we have met some wonderful people, enjoyed the small jungle village vibe, have begun thinking about spending more time here in the future, and feel some sorrow at leaving.

Cha Am: first impressions move on a spectrum from too big a city (unexpectedly) to Nancy's initial active distress at our neighborhood, to disappointment at the non-beach beach near our guesthouse, to working with the food issues more skillfully, to “nah”, we wouldn't come back here, to expanding our possibilites with a motorbike, to complete unimpressedness with the “big” Wednesday night market – just an ourdoor mini department store from which we need nothing.

To Date: Thailand so far is a very mixed bag for us. Not the “heart home” at all that India is for Nancy certainly, and in its way for me too. Neither of us is experiencing any particularly noticeable, ie. felt, spirituality here that we resonate with. The food in general is unhealthy, despite its reputation in the West as amazingly delicious – way to much sugar in almost everything; too much salt; white rice and white noodles; way too much fish and meat and way too little vegetables; and even in the relatively expensive farang restaurants, very little in the way of options: um........more rice or noodles, or eggs or meat or fish or white bread. White is King here in Thailand.

I suspect that in the end, the food issues may indeed be a deal breaker for us when it comes to spending extended periods of time here, unless we could settle into a place of our own outside of town and prepare our own food with expensive supplies that can be had only in a place like Chiang Mai, inside of which we clearly won't want to live, but outside of which (we had reiterated again today by a lovely LA woman who's been in Thailand for two years now teaching Bible stuff a la Jehova's Witnesses), which is extremely beautiful, perhaps. She encouraged us to not miss going to the north.

Today we each had a Thai foot massage (wonderful, of course, and about 7 bucks each including a nice tip for each masseuse), and we indulged ourselves with scones and spinach “pies” to celebrate Thanksgiving. It feels like we're biding our time here, although we haven't yet ridden out to explore the surrounding areas. Ah. There's a difference. In India, or at Thang Wua Laen, it felt like we didn't have to go anywhere to eplore anything. Just being there was it. Here, in Cha Am, it feels like we have to “go exploring” in order to maybe find something we might be moved by. Overall Cha Am still gets a big “Nah”on the “would you return there to spend more time” scale. Live and learn.

Thung Wua Laen - Part Three

A few nights ago we spent several hours, and shared a meal with Gail, an astoundingly kindred spirit from inland Western Canada. She spent several months here at the Albatross last year, and is just now back for more. What a delight to talk and share and laugh and discover so many striking parallels in our lives: Gail has trained and worked as an art therapist; is a cancer survivor; is “retired” and renting out her house; is like minded in areas of healing, eating, discovering, growing and being. And she's a great and easy and familiar person. She feels like good family.

(By special request {I'm mean it}, I'm including some photos and a video of our room with balcony at the Albatross Guesthouse. We were quite comfortable here for our two week stay. Cost, about 550baht/$16 a night)

 And then the next morning-ish we met Sidney, Gail's friend from last year, who lives permanently in a beautiful jungle neighborhood just around the corner, so to speak, from Thung Wua Laen Beach. An old boy from Brooklyn! So he and I have that certain instant Jewish New Yorker familiarity. A lovely mathematician retiree with a kind of soft hearted curmungeonliness and a ready smile of self deprecation that makes laughing with him quite easy. He agrees, for example, that we ought to ignore almost everything he says about anything. Also a fount of information about Thailand's ways and means, having been here for 12 years.

THEN, that night, we had dinner with some other friends of Gail from last year, John and Jane, also American expats from Seattle, now living in this area for the past 4 ½ years and loving it. This was a high octane, compressed, concentrated evening of all kinds of information, 97.8 % of which I have already forgotten or had never assimilated to begin with, but they were good people to spend some time with and hear from about Thai food options – they introduced us to a couple of wonderful dishes that we wouldn't have known about, both of which could easily be made vegetarian: massaman, a dark curry, and a different coconut milk curry – living in Thailand, diving (they're both enthusiastic divers, and Jane does underwater photography), and just a lot about their experience of moving to Thung Wua Laen. They're near neighbors of Sidney, and after renting for three years, and making lots of Thai connections, they had a house built.

So as I was saying in a previous post, even the other farangs here don't seem to have any interest in relating or connecting. Hmm. Maybe it just takes a little time in a place....................

News Flash!

(I'm not sure how to relate with the following just yet. I'm wondering about it, and, well, leaving my conclusions open).

Nancy is now a biker chick!

And apparently I'm a crazy, reckless, devil may care biker dude.

By this I mean that we did end up renting a little 125cc motorbike (we call them, usually with a derogatory bias, “scooters” in the US), and riding hither and yon around the surrounding areas of our rural beach location. Little, rather meaningless, I think, really, helmets, and no other safety or protective gear. I've violated my own dedicated American commitment to riding safety, AND, I've exposed my beloved wife to the same madness, which she now actually likes! What's going on here!?

After at first declining to rent a bike, and then Nancy riding several miles on the back of Pon's bike to the little town of Saphli to get some fresh fruit, and not returning traumatized by the experience, we decided to get one for ourselves and do a little exploring around the jungle surrounding Thang Wua Laen Beach. Going slowly, carefully, in an area with very little traffic and a leisurely pace of things, the fact that we were wearing shorts and sandals and no gloves or jacket became acceptable in a way that I can't imagine it being in the States. When in Rome...........etc.? I think the fact that I have motorcycle experience and training allows me to think that at least I'm not entirely unprepared for the potential risks. We're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

So farewell for now to our little beach haven, and on to Cha Am, a 3 hour train ride north. I thought Cha Am would be much smaller than it is, based on people's descriptions of the place as “pretty small and quiet”, but it turns out that my definition of “small and quiet” is based on our lives on Cerro Chato, where our nearest town, Madrid, is what I'd call “pretty small and quiet”, and not relative to a big city. Cha Am is in fact a “small” city on the gulf coast, and not exactly what I would call small and quiet at all, although we arrived on a Saturday, and the weekends are busier and noisier with Bangkok Thais coming here routinely for weekend get-away's and it just so happened that this Saturday night there is another BLARINGLY LOUD THAI AMPLIFIED MUSIC corporate party right down the street from us at the main courtyard/bandstand on the beach. I'm told that weekdays are truly quiet. We'll see.

Thung Wua Laen Beach - Part Two

New Day

OK, that was yesterday, and this is today, and today I'm not feeling so drained by the whole food dilemma. Today it seems like one of the many challenges one faces when entering into a completely foreign culture for the first time. All the things one doesn't know. All the details. All the adjustments and adaptations. And in this case, the heat too, which is really ok since we do have aircon, and Nancy is having a harder time with it than I am, and this isn't even the hot season here. It's just another factor.

Today we thought we might rent a motorbike for the day and go exploring, but when I asked about insurance, knowing that this is a legal requirement in Thailand, I found out that there would be some medical coverage, up to 15,000 baht (about $445) if I or Nancy were taken to hospital for treatment, but that there isn't any damage coverage for the bike itself. We would be responsible for these expenses ourselves should any damage occur, which would involve getting the bike to a shop or shops, and getting quotes, and maybe waiting around several days for the work to be done (and, I expect, paying unduly high “farang”, ie. “foreigner” prices). I opted out. We don't know enough about how things operate here to take on that kind of risk or stress; or so I feel about it. I'm happy enough to take our walks on the beach, to walk here and there, to hang out close to home, or in the broader foot-accessible neighborhood. I'm just getting my feet wet, so to speak, and don't feel driven to accomplish much of anything extraneous to our daily requirements. Maybe at our next destination, which we'll take the train to on the 21^st, we'll start to feel more confident and knowledgeable and adventurous in more extra curricular ways. Or maybe not. This is the kind of long term traveling I have in mind: slow, no undue demands, easeful and taking as much time for things as feels necessary. There's just so much to learn and to adjust to.

Now, for the other news from Lake Hereweare:

We happen to be at Thang Wua Laen Beach (we learned that “thang wua laen” means “running bull”, which explains the garlanded statue of a bull along the little beach road) just before and during a celebration at the local temple just a few meters down the road from us. This took place over two days and a night, with lots of people from the extended local area coming to party and donate money for the continued construction of a new building on the temple grounds. 

The restaurant/massage studio/dwelling that we eat at most often is also just a little ways down the road from us, and over the course of a couple of days we watched as a rotating team of several women cut and shaped and built and decorated with flowers what turned out to be candle lanterns, beautifully crafted from stripped and section-cut banana tree trunks. We watched the whole process, from stripping the trunks of their outer hairy bark, to cutting these trunks into sized sections, to peeling into half circle pieces the inner core, to coupling two of these pieces to create a cylindrical product about 12 inches high, to pinning the sections together with little staples made from small cut pieces of banana leaf mid-rib, to punching a whole in the installed bottom of this device into which the taper would be placed, to decorating the finished holder with lilawadee flowers (a kind of plumeria, Nancy tells me). After watching this for a couple of days – they had to make 200 of these holders, which all together took about 5 days – Nancy asked if she could help make them, which she was then invited to do.

These 200 candle lanterns would be used to light up the temple grounds and numerous Buddha statues when they were placed in pole holders made of bamboo stalks cut about chest high, which would be stuck into the earth around the temple complex, or on the bases of the statues. It turned out to be quite a beautiful sight on the night of the festivities.

Part of the “party” aspect of the whole affair was the EXTREMELY LOUD recorded Thai pop music accompanied by two karaoke type singers, and the dancing that accompanied all that, which we were of course invited to join in on, and even brought into the dancing area by Pon, the lovely manager of our guesthouse. The Thai people truly appreciated our participation, and I think also got a bit of a laugh watching these two farang whities groovin' to the heavily bass driven beat. There were lots of smiles all around, and after our first round of dancing we even went back in for a second.

When we first arrived at the temple grounds we were immediately invited to come and sit and eat. Such a universal welcoming gesture. Nancy communicated as best she could that we wanted to eat vegetarian, and we actually got MOSTLY that: lots of white noodles with two or three dishes of curies that contained more vegetables than we have been used to seeing, but also some chunks of meat, which we worked around, and a big side plate of cucumbers and fresh green beans. It was really “arroi”, delicious, and a bit hot, but there was bottled water to cool things off some with.

When we returned the next day to see what the continuing celebrations involved, we were again immediately invited to sit and eat. We sat, but having just treated ourselves to a farang/Western style breakfast at the Pirates Restaurant, I held my stomach and puffed out my cheeks to indicate that we were really full, and this got an imitation and a smile of understanding from the woman who had offered the food. One might think that, as Thailand is also known as the Land of A Thousand Smiles, or LOS for short, that this smiling thing might be worn out, but my experience so far is that a smile actually does seem to go a long way in just about all circumstances.

Vimeo Video Link: Watch the procession around the temple grounds with drummers and dancers setting the style and the beat  https://vimeo.com/145766069

 Of course, there is also, in the commercial world of service providers to tourists, what I would call a less friendly and more mercenary style that seems to prevail. We are, for the most part, fleeting sources of income, and probably nothing more. Here today, gone tomorrow. There's none of the curiosity about who we might be that we think we experience in India, for example. No desire or effort to connect, or communicate, except in ways that will encourage our spending. Even the other farangs we've seen here are stand off-ish and un-interested in communicating, for the most part. It feels strange to us.

Thung Wua Laen Beach - Part One

We've been at the beach for over a week now, and we've settled in a bit. We're learning ways to get some of our food needs met, thanks in considerable part to a suggestion offered by a member on the Retire Cheap.Asia forum. James is married to a Thai woman, and he shared her eating out strategy: she doesn't typically order menu items. Rather, she reads the menu to see what foods are on offer, and then orders custom made dishes based on these available items. Wow. This idea was revelatory, and has opened up otherwise unknown options for me. Now I'm able to order dishes that might typically be served with chicken, say, or fish, but specify that I want it with only vegetables. Or even with lots of vegetables: pak mak. This is only sometimes successful. Lots of vegetable doesn't seem to be a concept that Thai people readily understand or relate with. Their diet is so animal oriented, with vegetables typically being a side dish or a seeming after thought. Ironically, this is the exact misgiving that I had, months ago, when considering Latin American possibilites for travel or living. Too much meat in their diet. Who knew that Thai cuisine has the same bias. I simply assumed that being tropical, or being Asian (think Chinese or Thai or Japanese vegetarian options available in Santa Fe, for example), that vegetables and of course fruits would be major dietary components. Not so much for the vegetables. My bad for not doing my homework.

The other considerable dietary concern for me is the preponderance of white rice in Thai food. White rice. Who eats white rice any more? I haven't eaten it on anything other than a rare occasion for decades. Of course Indian food uses white rice also, but the abundance of vegetables in Indian food seems to somehow balance out some of the negatives of the white rice. White rice. Like eating Wonder Bread every day. How can anyone survive on this? Certainly people can't thrive, or be truly well. I have to find some affordable ways around this obstacle. White rice. Unbelievable. Well, not really unbelievable. It's what some billions of people on the planet eat every day of their lives. I really don't want to be one of them.

Diet is taking up a lot of my mental time here in Thailand so far. I have to think about every meal from a number of angles. Language. Communication. Ingredients. Variety, or the lack thereof. Spice. Quantity. (I'm finding that, like the quip about Chinese food says, after eating Thai food I'm still hungry and want to order another dish, which I typically do. The white rice and white noodles, having next to nothing in the way of nutritional value, also don't provide a feeling of satisfaction). As I'm writing all this I'm realizing how tiring these requirements are. Really, I wish I didn't have to think about it all so much. I'm hitting some kind of wall, just nine days into our Thailand experience.

And Now.....Heeeeeeeeere's Nancy!

So many amazing and unexpected adventures for Matthew and I here in India! We’ve been here 3 weeks, and it’s felt like time has slowed down considerably for us. Our usual reference points have dissolved here. What makes sense in the hygienic American psyche has no relevance here. It seems like our arrival in Delhi, and our travel north to Palpung Sherabling, the monastic seat of my guru Tai Situ Rinpoche was very long ago. For me, it is always a familiar joy to return there; and this time, it was such a wonderful gift to share this sacred place with Matthew. Now that we’ve traveled to other places in the country, we realize even more now, that Sherabling is indeed a refuge of peace and wisdom.

Nestled in the Himalayan foothills and pine forest, the country-side thrives in slowed-down routines that have probably not changed for centuries. Except for cell phones and access to the internet, which of course is a significant shift in changing one’s myopic view of the world. As soon as one goes to “the city”, the hectic pace is a powerful force which requires deep breaths and reckoning with. But we were fortunate to find an easy rhythm at the monastery, while the 400+ monks of all ages carried on in their duties of learning texts, studying English, learning the traditional lama dancing or other performing arts as part of their daily routine at Sherabling.

Part of our day was visiting Amma and Akka, my adopted Tibetan parents. Now 87, Amma is a great example of resiliency and devotion. She and Akka walked over the Himalayas in 1959, like so many at that time. The journey took months, and it’s incredible that they even survived. I first met them 36 years ago, during my first venture to Sherabling. They were the cow caretakers for the monastery at that time, and Amma would feed us “Engees” (Westerners) milk tea and chapati with home-made curd. This was a real treat, and it was then that I first came to love Amma for her nurturing fierce spirit.

An important part of our time at Sherabling was to catch up on much-needed rest. Our efforts over months, to move and prepare for Erin, our tenant, were exhausting. But we couldn’t really settle into the sleep we were missing until we “landed” at Sherabling.

And now, a month into our journey and so many images and memories already. Snippets to share from my point of view, and maybe a reiteration of Matthew’s sharings:

From Sherabling to Dharamsala and being in the great presence of Karmapa; waiting a whopping 3 hours for a minute of his time and energy, a blessing nonetheless

Back to Delhi for a day and night, waiting to take the overnight train to Bodhgaya

feeling so grateful for this journey and the spontaneous possibilities

hearing a lively puja happening when we were wandering and dodging cars, bicycles, people, motorbikes and rickshaws on the street, we were invited with an enthusiastic smile into a neighborhood Durga celebration. Durga is the mother of the universe, who eliminates everyone’s suffering and the evils of the world; a good omen to take with us in our continuing journey…

On the train to Bodhgaya, having flashbacks of my first trip to India 36 years ago; and how amazed I was that every material thing seemed to be considered a resource for something else after its original use…there certainly wasn’t so much trash or plastic back then, but there wasn't the billion human beings living here then either, just a mere 700 million back in 1979...Whew! I am aware of the stark difference of being an American, on so many levels, here in this love/hate place. How the States are so fat with the excesses of stuff, for so many of us, not all I know…but this addiction to “things” is so insidious and an addictive craving; and I’m not immune to this poison I know. For now, I will lug my stuff of suitcase, backpack and bag, like a turtle lugging my house around with me, but I’m thinking I’ll slowly eliminate some of this so-called “necessary” stuff, maybe even paring way down to the minimum, whatever that looks like…and then I also remember that we have so many boxes full of things, sitting in storage in Santa Fe….and do we really need any of it? Who or what is it all serving?

It’s momentous to return to Bodhgaya where Matthew and I first met so many years ago. 

  India and Thailand in Haiku bites:

I 

Leaving it open

Grateful for every moment

To share with Matthew;

What a time to be!

II 

Sherabling magic

And we are under its spell

Peace for our tired hearts,

Deep sleep refuge here

III 

Delhi chaos dance

Learning new steps to keep up

Ready for the ride,

Mother India!

IV 

Where does space begin?

Vast peaks of Dharamsala

And Karmapa’s heart:

Big Presence with Love

V 

Wise children; bright joy

Who could imagine this gift?

Bodhi tree treasure

I weep with such grace…

VI 

Is this possible?

Sacred and profane one breath

So many smiles here

And suffering hearts

VII  

We really did this:

All of us meditating

Together as one

At the Bodhi tree

VIII 

We will not forget

Our sweet Indian family

A love connection

We made in past lives

IX 

Varanasi blues

Toxic and Holy one thing

How does one survive

On Mother Ganga?

X 

We are in Thailand:

New food, new culture, new land

New adventures too;

Jungle seaside air

XI

Lots of adjustments

Grieving leaving India…

It’s all in my gut;

Great time to move slow

XII

Jungle fever sounds:

great frog symphony music

It's rainy season

green moist ooze of life
    

                                                           
                                                                                                                              
                                                                    

Bodhgaya - Part Three

We would mosey on down to the kitchen late in the mornings, after long nights of sleep, and there would be Sintu and Poonam and a child or two, and maybe Virmila, and Sintu would ask what we wanted for breakfast: omlette? chapati? milk tea? Usually I'd opt for ginger tea or black tea no milk no sugar, and maybe an omlette or something more Indian if it was available – some vegetable, maybe some rice - and chapati, and she would set to work preparing these. During these preparations, or during dinner preparations later in the day, conversation would inevitably ensue: about women's rights in India, about arranged marriages, about homeopathy and Sintu's study, about schools and schooling, of course, about the family's caste (milk sellers) and some history about the now deceased father who was a kind man we're told, whose picture, garlanded, holds an elevated place of honor atop kitchen cabinets, and who seems to have set a real example for his children, about Dominique (before she arrived after 2 or 3 days) and her building of the guest house, about our plans for the day, about Karmapa and his blessing of the school project, about the various Rinpoche's who come through or have temples in Bodhgaya, about Situ's coming to give special Mahamudra teachings next April.

The family, though Hindu by birth, have adopted Buddhism and its tenets and practices, due to Dominique's influence, and their experiences with the lamas and rinpoches and high level incarnate teachers. The exercise of compassionate action, service to others, meditation and devotion are part of their ways in the world.

We do spend one day being tourists, visiting by tuk tuk – this relentlessly intense and relentlessly rugged experience by itself can be exhausting - the cave where Buddha is said to have meditated himself down to skin and bones before being fed milk and rice by the lovely, no doubt, Sujata, and before beginning to understand that the extremes he was going to were unnecessary, and before descending back down to the plains and walking over to Bodhgaya and finding that bodhi tree to continue to sit under until he finally attained Enlightenment and, perhaps inadvertently, started a spiritual revolution. 

 

Included in this day was a visit to Sujata's temple (Vimeo video link) and to an old stupa said to have been built by her father, at which location we heard and met Peng Tao, the aforementioned Chinese contemplative musician who, along with playing his stringed instrument, says he will write a book about it and about his musical pilgrimage travels to Buddhist holy sites around the world. Have a listen (the instrument volume is pretty low, and there's a lot of loud talking in the background, but earphones are advisable):  Vimeo video link

This tourist day was attended to by Binay, the aspiring tour guide, so we were able to contribute to his aspirations by employing him for the day, and also by giving him Arun's contact info as someone who might be able to, one way or another, help further Binay's career. (Having just a little while ago as I write re-arrived in Delhi for one more night before flying out to Bangkok tomorrow, and having been met at the train and driven by Arun to our guest house, we have learned that Binay has indeed already made contact).

And finally regarding Bodhgaya, that magnet that draws Buddhist pilgrims from all round the world, that Mecca, as it were, of Buddhism: the Bodhi Tree and the Mahabodhi Temple. Nancy and I visited here several times during our days and nights, including on the Super Full Moon night in October, and she visited with our new friend Kat (Katherine Smith, LCSW from Hawaii, who also joined us on our outing day and at several kitchen meals/discussions) as well. Is it easier to sit/meditate here than it is in many other places on the planet? No surprise. The location has that quality derived from centuries or millenia of devotion and practice that can be experienced at other holy sistes, of a paradoxical quiet amidst the ceaseless motion and activity of visitors. Maybe it wouldn't be far wrong to say that it has a sort of specifically Buddhist quality, by which I mean one derived from Buddhist sitting meditation as well as from chanting and prayers and circumambulation and offerings. Or, maybe this is only my imagination.

 

At this point in our travels, we both feel that when we return to India, we will spend most of our time at Sherabling, a month or two is what we're saying, and maybe some time at Bodhgaya. We would most likely fly to the latter instead of taking an overnight train, just for the ease of it in the face of the cumulatively overwhelming psychic and visceral/sensual experience that India is. For all of its wonder, India is also a difficult, taxing place to be. For me the difficulty is largely physical, although the painful emotional impact of the grueling and widespread poverty can't be denied either.

When I was younger, and more emotionally shut down, and stronger physically, and more opinionated and more judgmental (can you imagine!?), I would have said, and probably did say, that India was more real, and more raw, and more authentic, and more gritty and a place that only the special few could handle well. Of course I was amoung those few. Now, I'm less charmed by the filth and the grime and the pollution of every kind and the aggression and the hordes and the destitution and the extremes. I find individuals and the connections to be made more appealing and more meaningful, even in the cauldron of India, and these are what make the rest of it now doable.

Vimeo video link

On the other side of that coin though, I have to say that there is also, again paradoxically, as India is nothing if not quintessentially paradoxical, a certain familiarity and comfort, even ease in being here. Sherabling is an island of relative calm and quiet in the madness of India, and Bodhgaya is just a special enough and small enough place to make the rest of it workable for a while.

(Street musicians playing for tips outside the MahabodhiTemple: naturally they caught my full attention: Vimeo video link)

At this very moment, maybe just because we are about to leave, and have just come from Varanasi via overnight train, on which it's not possible for me to get real sleep – more to come about Varanasi– and we're clearly tired and in need of rest, the idea of “exploring” more of India has little appeal for either of us. We're ready for a break, which Thailand, according to the people we've recently met who've been there, will undoubtedly provide.

Bodhgaya - Part Two

From Navin first, and later with equal passion from Anuj, we learned about the Shantindia School. Dominique started this school for poor and orphaned children who could not get any meaningful education from the Indian public school system, largely due to lack of funding or real concern. Some of the 250 students now served by the school, ranging in age from about 6 or 7 to maybe 17, had been beggars in the street before. All seem eager to learn, and come to school with bright intelligence and enthusiasm. Some are sponsored by foreigners at a cost of 15 Euros/16 ½ dollars a month, so that their continued education and care is more secure. My understanding is that it all began when Dominique initially met Navin and Sintu some years ago, and sponsored them to go to college. One thing has led to another.

We learned that the public school system, and the private school system in India is often, perhaps regularly, ineffective or corrupt, designed to reap profits for a few rather than to educate. In the face of this dilemma, Dominique, initially through her connections with Tibetan Dharma in India, somehow founded both the school and the guest house. I'm not sure how long the school has been open – maybe 5 or 6 years Nancy thinks – but in this time it has grown to be able to serve the numbers it now does, and three years ago the guest house was built and has begun to generate some income to support it. According to all the key players, parents for miles around clammer to have their children accepted into the school, but, alas, there is only so much room and so many teachers and only so much money and energy to go round, and people have to be routinely turned down. The need is immense, and the solutions are few.

We heard about the importance of learning to read and write and speak English. Without this, anyone's options for employment or betterment later on are severely limited. Local government jobs maybe, at best, for which their will undoubtedly be many thousands of applicants for every position, and probably, the positions will be filled through nepotism anyway. Any better prospects for work or education, including international ones, are eliminated without English, and so the school places great emphasis on this learning now.

Nancy and I spent a half hour at the school, each of us with a different class, trying to understand the developing and thickly accented spoken English and to answer questions if there were any. Where are you from? What is your name? What is your work? (It was especially interesting for me to try to simply characterize what my work has been!) How old are you? Do you have children? Mostly, I think, it was a chance to hang out with kids who are eager to learn, and who have few opportunities to interact with Westerners. In the end, as the result of Nancy's innocent question about whether the kids had ever gone as a group to the Mahabhodi Temple nearby, the youngest were sent home early, and about 100 of the older students were lined up and walked to the temple for an impromptu field trip (Vimeo video link). I stayed outside while Nancy and Sintu and school Principal Ravi took the children inside, where they all meditated together – having been taught a technique by Sintu, who had been taught by Dominique - and stayed for over an hour before walking back to the school. I had my own adventure while waiting for them.

Meet Bikram. About 10 years old, I'd say, and not hesitant about coming over to me, sitting himself down next to me and opening a conversation in pretty well developed English. At first we looked at photos I had been taking that were on my phone. He took control of this device in short order and scrolled expertly through numbers of shots. We exchanged a few words about all this, and then, having now developed a relationship, the ultimate purpose of Bikram's visit was revealed. “Will you buy me a dictionary?” he asked.

What kind of dictionary, says I to him, while to myself  I say, with, in my own defense, only the very slightest flicker of entitled American cynicism, Ah, of course.  English, he answers. Hmmm, I say, not wanting to appear to be too open to this suggestion just yet. How much does it cost? 500 rupees for a big one. Hmm, that's too much, I say. Ok, accommodating Bikram counters, maybe 300 for a small one. Hmmm, I say again, thinking all this over, extending my scam antennae a bit further out. How much can you pay? I ask. Hesitantly now.......50 rupees, he offers. Can you pay 100? I ask, and watch as his face sinks, and as he says, crestfallen, ok, clearly not meaning it for a moment, not because, I think, he wouldn't, but because he clearly cannot. Where do you buy this dictionary?

Just there, he points, into the local main market/bazaar. Hmmm. Ok, let's go there and see.

So we walk into the nearby market and he cruises immediately over to a book seller's stall where he asks for the English dictionary, which is proffered by the seller. It's bigger than I thought it would be, and the price printed on the back is only 255 rupees. I look it over, opening it, scanning the covers at the English-Hindi words of the title. Ok. You give 50 and I'll pay 200. He looks down. He doesn't have it. I remind him that he said he would pay 50. He asks/tells his friend, who has been with us all along, their exchange taking place in Hindi, to lend him, I suppose, 50 rupees, which the friend does, without any real hesitation that I saw. Friend digs into his backpack and hands Bikram a 100 rupee note (why this friend happened to have a 100 rupee note on hand I'm not sure) which he turns over to me. I give the friend 50 rupees, and the book seller 250, and the deal is done. It's a nice, brand new dictionary.

I'm not 100% certain that young Bikram isn't going to turn around later and bring the book back to the seller and collect his commission on a book that will be sold again. So we walk back to our original seats and I ask for the book. I open it to the blank inside page and write in it: This dictionary is a gift from Matthew to Bikram. I hope you like it. STUDY WELL!; under the day's date, October 28, 2015. I hand the book back to Bikram and ask him if he will study, or will he go sell the book back? His friend, the one who loaned him the money, speaks up and says clearly, He will study. He's a good boy. And I believe he is, and that he will. And so in this way I have the blessed opportunity to risk little, close to nothing really, and to contribute what may be a lot to a truly motivated student whose more developed command of English, already considerable, can only serve him well in whatever directions his future takes him. At least that is my hope, and my prayer. In this small gift giving, perhaps I have helped save the world after all.

Bodhgaya - Part One

Bodhgaya. Nancy and I thought, when we were planning our travels, that, of course, we'd have to return to Bodhgaya, the place where our first meeting took place in December of 1979. Although we didn't “hook up” until almost two years later, in Santa Cruz, CA, in September of 1981, we both know that the seed for this lifetime's adventure together had been planted earlier, in India, in Bodhgaya. What we couldn't have known is how much more than we'd expected Bodhgaya would hold for us on this second visit here, 36 years later.

It began with our arrival at Gaya, the big city closest to much smaller Bodhgaya, by overnight sleeper train from Delhi, at 4 in the morning, and our being met in the too-early dark by Navin and Chandan, cousins, who would drive us to Bodhgaya and to the Tara Guest House, where we had booked our room and had arranged this transport. We were of course tired, and didn't engage too much with them on the 30 minute or so drive. When we arrived at Tara they offered us tea or water, but we declined saying that we were tired and would just go to sleep. No problem. Ok. They carried our bags up to our room and left us to settle in.

Over the next 5 days we would get to know the family who live at and manage Tara Guest House, would regularly eat with them, would laugh with and learn from them, would visit the school they teach at, would hear about this project, about the guest house itself, about Dominique, the retired French nurse who started, organized, funded, inspires and oversees both the guest house, which was build with her money in order to provide income to fund the school, and the school itself, which exists because of her vision and dedication. And finally, we would meet Dominique herself.

The Principle Cast of Characters:

Navin: second son of matriarch Virmila, part time teacher of science at Shantindia School, soon, in November, to be a first time father, dedicated educator, arranged husband of Poonam, enthusiastic English speaker, knowledgable and communicative;


                                                                                     

Poonam: arranged wife of Navin and soon to be first time mother, some time cook at home, general householder, non-English speaker, more reserved and quiet than the others;

Sintu: younger sister of Navin and daughter of Virmila, dedicated educator at Shatindia School, principle cook at Tara Guest House, certificate student of Homeopathic Medicine, mother of two sons, 4 year old Prem and 2 year old Ananda, (aka “Monster”, for his predilection for roaming up to guest's rooms and making himself known, and reluctant breast relinquisher), enthusiastic English speaker;

Preens: adopted 12 year old son, blindingly bright light, all around helper and eager student, good and improving English speaker, the sort of boy you wish the world for;

Anuj: oldest son of Virmila, manager of Tara Guest House and Shantindia School and dedicated to both, traveler with and right hand man to Dominique, passionate and knowledgable about the school, about the Indian education system and about communicating in English regarding it all;

Virmila: matriarch, sharp, observant, knowledgable, non-English speaker, clearly though unobtrusively the boss, and the proper recipient of any gifts one might wish to bestow, to be distributed further according to her wishes;

                                                                                       

Dominique: sponsor, educator, guide and instructor into the world of cleanliness and sanitation and institution creation and management, fairy god-mother, business developer, overseer, scolder (lovingly), hugger, lover of all, dedicated Buddhist practitioner, Indiophile.

Supporting Cast:

Chandan: cousin, business competitor building another guest house within hand shaking distance from the window of our room, teacher, driver, English speaker, at home at Tara Guest House yet not living there.

Krishna: husband of Sintu, quiet, somewhat estranged but visiting his sons, formerly having a drinking problem but now two months sober and perhaps because of this more welcomed, non-English speaker.

Binay:  family friend, learning English speaker, former animal herder, aspiring professional and currently practicing/newbee guide, young and with some ambition and wanting to better his lot.

To be continued.....................................