Beyond, Bed Bath and Beyond

Loving linens as I do, I was perfectly able to leave them all behind. OK I brought a few towels I made especially for the trip; easy dry ones with just a little embroidery.

I also did not bring a sleeping bag. First I was staying at a hotel in Kathmandu, and then when 'I got me to a monastery'  I figured…

Needless to say, a shopping trip was in order.

Ready made sheets? What was that madam? (or at least that’s what it sounded like to me)

No No.

On to the next shop. And the next one and the next day.

I was shown some type of fabric that would remind us more of a bedspread with sham, no less, but they all had a similar, how shall I say, ummm, odor. Not good.

So using some fabric I had purchased in Kathmandu I got by. And then this. The moment I had been waiting for; a first for me, purchasing sheets off a bolt of fabric by the meter.

Total cost - around ten dollars American

This is the day; this is the day that the lord hath made

Let us rejoice, let us rejoice and be glad in it.
I can't help it but that song was one of the things I liked about teaching in a religious school many years ago; I can still hear the childrens' voices.
Today was the Sabbath and a bandt (stike) day also. No buses, cars or motorbikes. Walking is the available mode of transport. So, after a quiet morning of wringing and wash hanging, it was decided that en masse we would walk up to the Tibetan Refugee Village. The sun was shining, the air felt fresh and the walk was photogenic.

As we approached the village the poverty was striking and the children endearing.

All I Want for Christmas

Response to Connie

shared with all

Well, Connie I thought about it long and hard. First I thought of something to share with the kids. Then I thought some more. If I could have a Christmas gift from America it would be a can of pledge and a roll of paper towels. No fake. There is nothing available to clean with. I did get some rubber gloves and a bag of like 2 dish rags, but the rags smell so bad (they are brand new from a "department" store) that I need to sneak out one night and bury them.

Otherwise things have steadily gotten easier on one level and more stressful on another. I have 24 students in the Shedra class; the college philosophy students. They were assigned an essay which they are writing by hand. I have to correct and conference with each one, hopefully keeping the others interested in another project. I pulled an excerpt out of the book I was reading about Mumbai. India, as their neighbor is relevant and Suketa "tells it like it is". (The author Suketa Mehta earned a place on the Pulitzer Prize finalist list, title: Maximum City Bombay Lost and Found.)

My goal is to try and get the computer lab running, yes they have 4 computers, but no one knows how to use a word processor. They could then write on MSW save to my memory stick and then I would have to go into town to print. Yeah, nothing's very easy. Even getting into town is a chance; will there be a bus? Will there be room? Will I have to ride on the roof? Will I fall off the roof? You know things like that.

Now for the inside view:

New Temple

Built into a mountainside the monastery has an enviable view and a large property. The spaciousness allows the monks to walk around and be as contemplative as desired without distraction. All through the day I see the senior students, sitting, reading, studying away from the hubbub of the main building.

The entrance way is on the ground floor with the dining hall on the north end and a classroom wing on the south end. The two flights above serve as an office, guest quarters, and bedrooms. There is an open courtyard in the south wing; much air and light filter in.

Upon exiting the 3^rd floor, you find yourself on a new level ground. A temple is being constructed to your right and a row of guest rooms is a path's walk up ahead to your left. On this second level there is a precipice that drops down into the valley with its distant sounds of life and music often floating up. Oh yes, and much horn honking.

Morning View from My Bedroom Door

 

It is on this open plain behind the monastery where a new temple is being constructed. Every day as I open my door I can see and of course hear the construction activity. However this is a veritable "manual" labor activity employing both men and women.

From the pictures you may see the level of teamwork and rhythm established to pass the cement up the chain. The mixed, wet cement is placed in a hub cap, OK probably not a real hubcap but it looks like one from here. It is presented to guy two who passes it to guy three who chucks it to guy four standing on the top. Guy four has just tossed the last empty HC down, so look closely and you will see a saucer like item just below midway. Guy four then catches the next laden HC, turns and pours the cement into the correct area. He then tosses empty HC down, waiting for the next one full of cement.

UNBELIEVAVBLE!

Presently there is not enough money to finish the project as a total of 450,000 American dollars is needed. Work will proceed as funds come in.

On another note, yesterday a volunteer team of a father and daughter from Australia arrived; Robert and Amanda. In fact I had them over for coffee last night. (In no way does this look like any time we have shared coffee together at one of our homes, so don't think we were living it up.)

Upon their arrival they were immediately asked to teach a class. After their initial performance, Lobsang the school secretary requested that they teach hygiene while they were here. This is of course is very important and much needs to be put in place. HOWEVER, teaching kids to wash their hands with soap when there is no soap???? Teaching kids to use warm water, when there it is only available sometimes??? Teaching students to blow their noses rather than let the green mucous run down, when there are no tissues??? Well, there was one strategy for containing illness that we could teach them and it could be utilized: coughing into your elbow.

So I close with a snap of laundry day – all clothes are washed by hand. Fresh clothes are given to the little ones once a WEEK. (No wonder the flies like them by Friday.) And when the monks returned from the camping trip they WENT DOWN TO THE RIVER TO WASH THE BLANKETS. Yep, and I am sure they have a special rock of their own, well worn though it may be.

Life Before the Internet

Yes, I remember it well.

Breakfast at 7:00. Hang around till 8:00 or so. Start trek. First out from my room across the field entering the monastery from the back and on the third floor. Descend. Walk though entrance hall, out front door and through imposing but welcoming entrance gate.

Down the hill, wait for goats, or walk through same.

Out to road with some walking space and some open sewers. Cars, motorbikes, buses speed by. Walk up hill toward Tibetan Refugee Camp where there is a cyber store. Ascend extremely steep and narrow, no railing stone steps. Cyber shop very old, very dusty but one can connect to the US on phone for 6 NR (Nepali Rupees) a minute; about 7.5 cents a minute. Poorly lit booth, hard to see but call goes through to home.

Internet connection, not sure of fee, but extremely old computer, small screen and squeaky keyboard. But I can get to my email. Responding is something else all together because as mentioned the keyboard needs a few cycles in the dishwasher. Nice chat with the young man that runs the place and always I inquire about tomorrow's hours. (Not that it helps much; the Nepali word for tomorrow translates into sometime after the day after tomorrow. ???

One day while waiting for the cyber café guy I get shanghaied into purchasing a Tibetan Rug; NOT CHEAP. But I rationalize that I need one for stretching and also sitting outside in the sun on my "patio". (More on patio later) Another day while waiting I wander up the street and find Tibetan spiritual items shop. Shopkeeper is a young Tibetan girl; her English is passable. I check out the merchandise and buy some incense – Potala, a brand which I can and often do purchase in the Village. (Greenwich Village NYC) She keeps busy sewing prayer flags in the shop while waiting for customers. A family comes in to buy some fabric for a kata scarf. I wander back to connect to the world - maybe.

Test

This is not possible. I just registered my blog account through Word. If this works life will grow lovelier. It's 6:30 in the morning, I am wrapped in a Yak blanket and still freezing, BUT I have power so will test this and check to see if it does post.

Moi

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

"God damn right it's a beautiful day"

Just finished washing my hair for the first time at Pema Ts'al; last wash 7 days ago. This went well. Since I don't have hot enough water for the shower, I washed it in the sink with lukewarm water. Not too bad. But lo and behold I decided to risk tripping the breaker and plug my international hairdryer in - Yippee do, not only did it work, I found a live plug in the bathroom. I am in hair heaven.
A good end to a long day; a very long day at the hospital. Lucca a very lovely German girl volunteer came home from Lumbini where the school had been camping for a week. They were attending a festival of 4000 monks  all congregating at Buddha's birthplace. Yes, Buddha was born in Nepal.
She did not come to breakfast the next day; I did not know she existed. But then she appeared and was sick, so we talked and I gave her Vit C, cold medicine etc. from my stash and we hung out. The next day she was so so but now she had a fever; Tylenol brought it down. The following morning she did not appear as she was very weak and could barely get out of bed. The monks had offered to take her to the hospital but up to now she declined. I told her if she wanted my opinion that it was time to go.
So to the hospital we went. First we waited till one of the monks could go with us. Two hours later we walked down the hill from the monastery, (are they all on hills?) to wait for a passing taxi. Gee was I dumb, I thought we could just call one. So we waited. Lucca and I found rocks to sit on. Two water buffalo pass, roosters' crow, and overloaded buses glide by. And we wait. After at least 20 minutes, a taxi comes by but there is only room for two. Lucca and I get in, the driver lets us off at a little market spot, actually not that far down the road. We wait for the monk. He arrives shortly; haven't a clue how. We find a taxi to take us to the hospital. Fifteen minutes later we arrive. It is a large prominent building and the sign states that it is a teaching
hospital.

First reception, paperwork, then pre-exam, all walking, walking and Lucca is getting weaker. She begins to lie down on benches where ever we can find them; finally to a lie down bench outside the examining room. The female doctor is an ENT specialist; I know this because there is a sign in English. The doctor proceeds to adjust the metal disk suspended around her head by a band on an angle, turns on the light bulb, and reflects the brightness into Lucca's throat. Really. Then she checks her eyes, her lymph nodes and says she is very sick. We then proceed to the next place, I ask if we can't get a wheelchair, and I am told that would be another place???
At the next place they take her blood pressure and it is 90 over 60. Not good. Now she can barely keep her head up and of course she has absolutely no desire to stay overnight in the hospital. I kneel down and say to her softly, "I think you should stay." "OK", she responds. So Lucca is admitted; actually we take the elevator up to another floor, no wheelchair except the empty one we pass by in the hall. There is no bench when we arrive so she slides to the floor leaning against the wall. The monk confers with the 5 nurses at the nurses' station. They simply watch Lucca and me kneeling next to her. About 15 minutes later we are led to a room, semi-private where they then make the bed and Lucca falls in. Sheets are clean but grey; blankets WWI vintage. The monk then goes to get/buy her medicine. I find her another blanket. Monk comes back with a full bag of medicine; nurses proceed to set up a drip; Cipro, glucose and something else unknown to me. They use her shawl to support her hand.We talk about astrological signs while they stick her. No double birthday months in her family.
Now she needs food, the doctor says clear liquids and a lot of them. Well, just don't you know the hospital does not provide food. Again the monk goes out to get black tea with lemon from a shop down the street; we return the cup later. After that stays down we bring her more food; chicken broth soup. She eats it all in thirds, resting between each portion. The bed does crank up, but where is the crank? The nurses, referred to as "sister" return to reset the drip. We talk some more and then make plans for the monk to return with her MP3 player and dinner.
The monk tells me in the cab that "sister" said some family should stay with her through the night; this is customary. The monk explains that she has no family here, can't the they watch her. Sister says they have too many patients.
I come home and hand wash the pj's and t-shirt that had been soaking in the bucket since 6:30AM, rinse, rinse, swirl, swirl, heat hot water for final lukewarm rinse. Wring, wring, smack against a rock. OK so there is no rock, I left it down the river. Finally hang.

Sponge bath time - night all.
Listening to the Eels, Mr. E's Beautiful Day, with the refrain, God damn right it's a beautiful day", on my Iphone, while typing. Utterly right on. Thanks Jared.

 

I had to search through several closets to get Lucca enough blankets. Lama Rigzen went out to a pharmacy to purchase the prescribed medicines. Then the nurses administered the Cipro IV.