Buddhist Brainwashing
Posted by: lucie
Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it's like brainwashing. You'd be shocked to see how much time people in this monastery spend talking about brainwashing. Seriously... I'm taking a day off of the today because it's all getting to be a bit much. I'm in the nearest town, which is called Bhouda.
The course is nothing like what I expected.
Before you start thinking I'm crazy, it's not just me. About thirty people have left so far (out of 180), many of them devoted Buddhists. Many more are still talking about leaving and pondering the decision every single day.
There isn't much time to get into it and I'm struggling already with the dilemma of how much to criticize the course on this blog - I've written easily over a hundred pages in my journal so far. For now I'll just say some basics:
It's not a meditation course.
It's not philosophical.
It's very religious.
It feels like a kind of indoctrination.
The meditation sessions feel more like hypnosis sessions.
The Lam Rim, which is kind of like the Tibetan Buddhist bible, is being presented VERY LITERALLY. There's reincarnation, definitely. There are hell realms, definitely. Karma is a kind of science with exact, predictable results, definitely.
People are bugging out. It's all a little bit nervewracking. There are people becoming die hard Buddhists in a disturbingly short period of time, and there are die hard Buddhists who intended to become monks losing faith because of the way the teachings are being presented.
Tomorrow we start taking precepts, which means just one meal a day. We're all a bit sleep deprived already because the schedule is hard core. Lots of us skip a lot of the teachings because it's simply too much. I'm a little worried that it's going to get even more Looney Tunes than it already is when people are calorie deprived as well as food deprived.
Some of the people who have gone to speak to the nun in charge of the course have been told, upon saying they're not sure this is for them, that they're arrogant, superficial and negative minded, and that they'll never find happiness outside the gates of the monastery.
I guess it will work out well for some people, but I have to be honest with you: if it wasn't a Buddhist program, people would be calling it a cult. Seriously. The way things are presented, the way you're told it's all true, the way they cut you off from the outside world and deal with doubters... it's just kind of troubling.
Like many people, I've thought about leaving... especially on days four to seven or so, when I had food poisoning and wanted to die. But once I was able to eat crackers and Sprite again I thought screw it - I'll stay. I'll watch the people, take it as a sociology lesson, ponder the nature of religion and group behavior/hysteria.
I also thought in a way it would strengthen my character. You know, if everyone is just going to get crazier and crazier - and I think they are - it'll be good for me to stick it out. Today someone challenged me on this view and suggested it would be braver to leave, and that sticking it out just for the sake of it was an ego thing. I don't know whether that's true or not.
Boy, it's pretty crazy. Sometimes it doesn't feel much like a retreat.
Tomorrow we take the precepts at 5.30am, before dawn. Then we'll see how crazy things get. I need to ponder whether my resolve to stay here is just an ego trip. Maybe the biggest lesson I have to learn in life is How To Walk Away.
Anyway... it'll all be fine. I'm glad I'm journalling so much because there's really no time to process any of this stuff. That will come later. I look forward to sharing more... though I might go back through and delete the name and some details about the monastery.
I'm definitely not doing the 7 day retreat afterwards!! I think I'll check out other meditation programs in Nepal for a freelance story. I wanted to write it about this course, but I don't think it's appropriate anymore. It's just too weird, it's different for everyone, and no one should come to this thing unless they're already a Buddhist or feel pretty confident that they want to be one. In fact, no one should come to this course without reading the Lam Rim.
Anyway, more later. Two weeks later, probably. Unless I break out early. Best wishes to everyone!!
Blackout
Posted by: lucie
This is it. My last little post. I'm going in. Tomorrow morning, I'm going in! I've packed all my contraband stuff in a small bag to leave in the monastery office for the duration of the course. It contains:
Powerbook
iPod
English phone
Czech phone
Underwear that is black and lacy
Condoms
A cute pair of shoes you'd never wear in a monastery
Two Lonely Planet guides (non-dharma reading)
Two perfumes
Lots of makeup
Non essential beauty products
One ring
Onward flight tickets
...and a few other bits and pieces.
Today I walked around Kathmandu and tried really hard not to buy EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. I ordered two rings to be custom made - you can pick out the gems and the settings they size you and make them exactly the way you want them. I love rings.
I've been hanging out with a couple of girls from Canada who teach at a rich girls' school in Abu Dhabi. Apparently most girls, or most people, are rich in Abu Dhabi. Apparently of the 12 million people who live there, only 8000 of them have to work because the rest of them are rolling in oil money. Ten percent of these girls' students are princesses who are not allowed to have any contact with boys after they start their periods. I said what, you mean they can't actually touch them? And they said no, they can't talk to them or look at them. Sheesh.
Anyway, that's my last entry for a month. Not very inspired but I've little time! Bye everyone! I'm entering the blackout period! Goodbye!
Kathmandu Guest House
Posted by: lucie
I've arrived in Kathmandu and already managed to make something of an ass of myself. You know, I like to think I'm well travelled but actually I'm just as clueless as the next tourist.
It wasn't that bad, really, and I could lay blame on my hotel, which was meant to have someone there to pick me up, if I wanted to... but still, a girl should be able to secure a taxi to her destination without being swindled. I did, mostly. I avoided the taxi drivers pretending to be from Kathmandu Guest House (the most popular place in town) who actually then tell you it's full and take you somewhere else, where they're paid a commission. I avoided the people who tried to grab my luggage and then demand tips for carrying it.
The hotel said they'd pay for a taxi, so I jumped into one and got to my destination safely. "Kathmandu Guest House always full," he kept saying, "so if it's full I can take you to nice place." I said it was okay, I had a reservation, but silently worried about what would become of me if it had been lost. Being a girl traveling on my own, I prefer to stay somewhere safe and known.
Anyway, we got here and he asked me to pay him in dollars, and of course I don't really know the exchange rates so I got ripped off. "Five dollars?" the hotel man said, his eyes widening slightly, when I told him. I said "Is that way too much?" and he politely told me no no no, but I should get my money back from the man and let the hotel pay him directly. The taxi driver was still hovering for some reason, probably preparing to ask for a tip from the hotel even though I'd reserved a room with them, so I brought him over. He wasn't about to give up his 5 bucks, and an argument ensued. I stood there embarrassed, feeling like a stupid tourist.
It's 8pm. I've made my way through a 6.5 hour flight, another 4.5 hour flight, the visa and customs procession and taxis and seen some spectacularly third world market scenes on the way in to the centre - all kinds of whole plucked and skinned animals sitting on tables in dirty alleyways. There are lots of fumes. I've breathed in more fumes in the past hour than in two years in England, I think.
I'm in an area called Thamel, which is beautiful and touristy, filled with markets selling pashminas, incense and jewelry for probably double the normal price but still dirt cheap.
Tonight I'll stick around here, as the Guest House practically has its own little village... I'm off to eat some Nepali food now.
10:00pm Sunday, Heathrow
Posted by: lucie
(posted 10:00am local time from Abu Dhabi airport)
I've finally had the freakout moment that I knew had to be coming. I'm at the gate for my flight to Abu Dhabi now and suspect the worst of it has passed. It happened when I was in line to check in. The line was moving slowly, it was hot, I was sweaty, everyone around me was brown and I was white, everyone around me had their family with them and I was alone, everyone around me was going on holiday or returning home and I didn't have a home, and I had the 'oh shit what am I doing' feeling.
It's just scary making big life transitions. Part of me feels like I should be settled down somewhere with a consistent job and group of friends building some kind of future for myself. I live very much in the short-term. "That's all it is anyway," Matt said this weekend. "It's just a string of adventures, and that's your life." We dodged flaming barrels or tar in Devon. It felt like the running of the bulls - people placing themselves in harm's general vicinity, then screaming in fear and panic when it actually came their way. It was brilliant. I have pictures. I'll post them someday, but probably not soon unless I happen to luck out with a wireless connection in Kathmandu.
There can be nothing negative about going to live in a Buddhist monastery for 40 days, I tell myself. It's the bit on the other side I'm nervous about - going back to Eastern Europe, going back to journalism. I'm not sure why, though. I mean, in terms of big life transitions, this one should be the easiest I've ever made. I have a flat lined up, I have a job lined up. I have friends there. I know the city. Most other places I've moved completely blind and it's still worked out. It's just the twinge of 'you should really be back in the Northwest thinking long-term, not messing around with career changes' that sets me off once in a while.
I would have stayed longer in England, though obviously not in the grim North. It's okay, though. Everything is okay, and I think it's normal to fight back tears (unsuccessfully) for ten or fifteen minutes in the Gulf Air queue in such a situation. Seriously, if that's the biggest freakout I have about this, I'd say I'm doing pretty well.
I'm doing pretty well.
Anyway, if the move turns out to be a poor decision I'll just move back to the States or do the MBA (still no idea whether I've been accepted). At least I'll never wonder whether I should have pursued journalism.
I can't wait to have a four hour chat with Rebecca and hug Tom and kiss him on the cheek. I have friends in my new city. Good friends. And a good boss. And a good flat if I want it. As life transitions go, this one is luxuriously smooth. I'm reminding myself of these things. It's going to be okay.
That doesn't change the fact that every time I think about holding back tears in the check-in line, I find myself holding back tears again. I could really enjoy a good cry in the bathroom right now.
Time to board.
