When I travel, I generally make an effort to learn four words in the local language: Hello, Goodbye, Please and Thank You. Thankfully, in Ladakhi, "Julay" means all four of these.... Spent the weekend at the lovely "Open Ladakh Trekking Meditation Camp," run by a former monk named Vivek who has studied in Thailand and done time as a monk in Burma, now has a family house where he runs retreats outside of Leh. I had arrived late, having been packed into a collectivo like mini-minibus packed with tibetan monks who were playing with their cell phone ring tones.
Although a silent retreat, the western participants all met and chatted beforehand at an opening dinner. It was kind of a scene- a hippie schoolteacher from vermont, an irish guy who the first time he wanted to travel he worked as a mechanic on an oil rig, and saw ports from Saudi Arabia all aroudn Africa, South America, the Caribbean and the states without being allowed off the boat- he quit his job and bought a ticket with the money to go see the world. He was pretty cool. There was an American who had recently graduated from Antioch college, and was surprisingly square (I've emt many Antioch dropouts, but never an alum) who was named Jim and looked like Jim from the office, though much smarter and less smarmy. An American crystal therapist who lives in San Marcos de Atitlan Guatemala (home of the pyramid school), a few woofing Europeans, a Gibraltan who had been travelling for seven years and came to India after a breakup with her boyfriend- the lion tamer in the Japanese circus. This was funny and made for great conversation, because a canadian hippie had also been in the circus in Australia. Anyway, these were a few of the more colorful characters, but most of the people were pretty out there, save one American lawyer who I liked a lot and Jim the American , both of whom I talked to a bunch on the last day when silence was broken.
So, as I said, it was a silent retreat, sleeping outside in tents in a valley of the Himalayas right outside of Leh. The stars were magnificent at night, the mountains majestic by day. We sat outside for much of the first day, in yellow pastures of barley and wheat with crumbling stupas in the distant fields of the other local farmers. Day two we did some hiking in the hills, and then rested again in the fields. The last morning we broke silence and most people decided to stay and trek a bit more, exploring the local palace and monastery. It was a fun day, and then some of the people that had done yoga teacher trainings while in India put on a yoga class which we all did before dinner. It wasnt bad, though a bit embarrassing when they couldnt remember whether to breathe in or out in various assanas. Many of this group then decided to share a jeep the next day to visit more monasteries in the valley.
The monasteries were, as usual, extremely impressive. There was Likir, (below) classically tibetan with a cool museum that had bizarre artifacts like a skull drinking bowl and femur flute for ceremonies, as well as a gigantic buddha outside. Alchi was very different from the other tibetan style gompas, with wooden architecture influenced by Kashmiri mosques, and extremely
intricate murals (above) painted on the inside walls. Basgo (left) was built perched on a crumbling cliffside ina moonlike valley that looked rather like Arches or Canyonlands national parks back in the US. I had a great time at the monasteries, but the shared jeep with the hippies really started to grate on my nerves by the end of the day. I really didnt think I could take one more converstaion about how Jesus lived in India, or a debate about auras. I was relieved to return to Leh with a real room, real bed and the first hot shower since arriving in the Himalayas. 
Of course, woke up super early again, accustomed to arising at 5:00 for meditation, and headed back to Phyang Gompa where a festival was happening. Decided to go local transport on the bus, which was packed full of locals and gringos. The seats were filled overcapacity, so it was standing room only on the bus with a ceiling that came up to about my shuolders. Not the most comfortable half hour ride, stooped over, and the bus stopping to let on more excited monks and local villagers with each town we passed
through. The festival was very cool- elaborate masked dances that represented... something... and a festive air at the monastery with merchants, food stalls, and of course beggars everywhere. I finally had the disturbing realization that the beggars I thought were suffering from burns are actually lepers, not burn victims. I also continue to be an Indian media darling, as I was niterviewed about the festival for some Indian TV station. Back today for internet, and signed up to bicycle the world's highest road tomorrow assuming by border region permit comes through...
So, as I said, it was a silent retreat, sleeping outside in tents in a valley of the Himalayas right outside of Leh. The stars were magnificent at night, the mountains majestic by day. We sat outside for much of the first day, in yellow pastures of barley and wheat with crumbling stupas in the distant fields of the other local farmers. Day two we did some hiking in the hills, and then rested again in the fields. The last morning we broke silence and most people decided to stay and trek a bit more, exploring the local palace and monastery. It was a fun day, and then some of the people that had done yoga teacher trainings while in India put on a yoga class which we all did before dinner. It wasnt bad, though a bit embarrassing when they couldnt remember whether to breathe in or out in various assanas. Many of this group then decided to share a jeep the next day to visit more monasteries in the valley.The monasteries were, as usual, extremely impressive. There was Likir, (below) classically tibetan with a cool museum that had bizarre artifacts like a skull drinking bowl and femur flute for ceremonies, as well as a gigantic buddha outside. Alchi was very different from the other tibetan style gompas, with wooden architecture influenced by Kashmiri mosques, and extremely
intricate murals (above) painted on the inside walls. Basgo (left) was built perched on a crumbling cliffside ina moonlike valley that looked rather like Arches or Canyonlands national parks back in the US. I had a great time at the monasteries, but the shared jeep with the hippies really started to grate on my nerves by the end of the day. I really didnt think I could take one more converstaion about how Jesus lived in India, or a debate about auras. I was relieved to return to Leh with a real room, real bed and the first hot shower since arriving in the Himalayas. 
Of course, woke up super early again, accustomed to arising at 5:00 for meditation, and headed back to Phyang Gompa where a festival was happening. Decided to go local transport on the bus, which was packed full of locals and gringos. The seats were filled overcapacity, so it was standing room only on the bus with a ceiling that came up to about my shuolders. Not the most comfortable half hour ride, stooped over, and the bus stopping to let on more excited monks and local villagers with each town we passed
through. The festival was very cool- elaborate masked dances that represented... something... and a festive air at the monastery with merchants, food stalls, and of course beggars everywhere. I finally had the disturbing realization that the beggars I thought were suffering from burns are actually lepers, not burn victims. I also continue to be an Indian media darling, as I was niterviewed about the festival for some Indian TV station. Back today for internet, and signed up to bicycle the world's highest road tomorrow assuming by border region permit comes through...
1 comment:
Sounds amazing. I´m beginning to tire of hippies and backpackers as well, but I can only imagine the degree of insuffrability India engenders in those same people...
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