Strange Bedfellows

The moment Percy walked into our room at the Mystic Waterfall Hostel in Yubeng Village she stuffed all our food in a sack and hung it from a rusty nail on the wall. Very mater-a-factly Percy stated, "could be rats" and left it at that. As a frequent backpacker I was all too familiar with treeing my food from bears, mountain goats, deer, and marmots, so her actions seemed so reasonable and obvious that neither of us thought to mention it to our fellow travelers.

That night, as Percy, Roy, and I each dimmed our headlamps and snuggled into our respective cots we were startled by an alarm piercing through the disjointed paper thin walls. "Something just ran over my head!!!" Doug called from the next room. "Ohh...It just ran over my feet!" cried Gail. For the next hour Percy, Roy, and I, tried to stifle our laughter as Doug, Gail, and James tried to trap the rat scurrying about their room. The traps were remarkably sophisticated given our location, resources, and the fact that they were constructed in near complete darkness, but the trio was ultimately unsuccessful in their efforts to trap the rat and had to co-exist with it for three long nights.

Personally, I think the rat chose their room intentionally, not for the bananas they left on the counter, but because the rat in the Chinese Zodiac is emblematic of each of Doug, Gail, and James' good traits. Being the first sign of the Chinese Zodiac, rats are leaders, pioneers and conquerors. They are charming, passionate, charismatic, practical and hardworking. Rat people are endowed with great leadership skills and are perhaps the most organized and systematic of the twelve signs. Intelligent and cunning at the same time, rats are highly ambitious and strong-willed people. They are energetic and versatile and can usually find their way around obstacles, and adapt to various environments easily. That sounds about right.

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept through the slats of the single-paned walls (for it is in Yubeng Village that our scene lies), rattling along the rooftops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the head lamps that struggled against the darkness. Through one of the obscurest quarters of China, and among haunts little loved by the gentlemen of the police, a group, evidently of the lowest order, was wending there way. Together they gathered, furtively sharing a flask (of hot water), to learn from the masters the music and lyrics of an ancient tune. Though much of the song's meaning was obscured from the group, for they spoke little of the language in which it was sung, they knew that it resonated in the deep places of the heart where beauty, sorrow, and hope reside. When the time came for each to leave the masters' room and wend their way through the cold and lonely storm back to their rickety beds trussed by worn blankets and dusty pillows, they quietly hummed the tune's final verse, "and I will tell them proudly that this is my home."

The lyrics have been preserved as follows:

(1) lan lan de tien shawn-bye yuen peow

(2) bye-yuen sha-mien ma er paw

(3) tsao yuen shawn^shung chee boo luoha-de-tai yong

(4) yao-shur yoh-ren bye wen wua

(5) jua sheh shen-mua dee fong

(6) wua jyo jiao-ow-de gow sue ta-ah jua-sheh-wua-de goo shawn

P.S. You've got to love Baron Edward Bulwer-Lytton for creating the "dark and stormy night" writing style. Did you know there is actually a contest each year sponsored by San Jose State University to determine the worst "dark and stormy night" stories in existence? I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Garyupa Nunnery

The Tibetan word for pilgrimage, neykhor, means "to circle around a sacred place," which is fitting since the goal of a pilgrimage is less about reaching a particular destination and more about journeying to transcend the attachments and habits that restrict our awareness.

So, upon our return from the Mystic Waterfall, Spring led us to a Nunnery, well hidden on the side of the mountain and tucked away from the less aware, to circle not only around but through a shrine to Kawa Karpo. The rock alter was nearly polished smooth by the millions of hands and knees that squeezed through the granite tube that allowed us to come full circle three times around the shrine.

As we left the Nunnery we all remarked reverently at the life the nuns there must lead. They are literally on the edge of no and where. The trail to their home is long and a bit precarious. Bringing in supplies could not be easy. They sleep and cook in a small wooden six foot by six foot box adjacent to the temple. Their days revolve around prayer, meditation, tending the shrine, and assisting pilgrims. Their needs are few and wants even less. Ascetic though their life may be, I left feeling a bit envious of their situation. They are the first women I have ever met who could truly call themselves free.

The Mystic Waterfall

The Mystic Waterfall is a bit of a mystery. There is no way to climb to the top (and I know the climbers among you are skeptical, but seriously, Tommy Caldwell would have trouble) so there is no way to know where the water is coming from. Sometimes it runs, sometimes it doesn't. It isn't dependant on the rain, it isn't in the downstream path of the melting glacier, it is presumably too high for a spring, it is simply a mystery and I hope it stays that way.

We each took our turn getting wet in the falls to receive the blessing of Kawa Karpo and then hung our prayer flags together. Prayer flags have been hung in the area for thousands of years. They actually pre-date Buddhism! Each of the five colored prayer flags represent one primary element: fire, earth, water, air, and space. Shamanistic healers used them in ceremonies to balance out the elements in a patient's body to promote physical and mental health. As Buddhism entered the consciousness of the Tibetan people, they began to add prayers, sutras, mantras, and symbols to the shamanistic flags. We hung health and longevity flags for our friends and family and I was particularly happy to find a bomber pinch around which to tie my end!

Pomegranates in Greece

After arriving at the Mystic Waterfall we all shared a pomegranate given to Tao by a monk at the start of our pilgrimage. I'm not certain of its symbolism in Tibetan culture, but I know that the Greeks served pomegranates as offerings to the spirits of the dead and to honor the compassionate nature of the god Dionysus. Given that we had traveled 7000 miles to build memorial shrines for our ancestors, hang prayer flags for the health of our families, and to bathe in the waters blessed by a compassionate god, I couldn't think of a better symbolic gesture than to eat a pomegranate, except maybe to have toasted with a pomegranate martini. I wonder how shaojiu would work as a mixer. Next time I vow to find out.

Blame Him

This is Alberto Gonzales. He is both my boss and the bane of my existence. Please blame him for the lack of recent blogs. I do.