Sent on your behalf (translations welcome)
Posted by: lucie
Stonehenge
Posted by: lucie
Matt and I had the completely unexpected pleasure of stumbling upon Stonehenge on our way back from the Tar Barrels extravaganza (on which more later). To keep the toursts, hippies and party kids from slowly wearing down the stones, they've roped off a path around them. Look but don't touch.
Paragliding over Lake Phewa, Nepal
Posted by: lucie
Monklets playing gameboy
Posted by: lucie
Yeah, so anyway...
Posted by: lucie
Falling in love with someone over dinner is actually good fun as long as you don't try to take it too seriously. It was a perfect date, I got goofy and grinny, it briefly seemed like we should try to see each other again and now it's quite clear that this is a dumb idea and I need to forget about it. I'm forgetting about it. I wrote him an email saying it was great spending more time about him, I'm still thinking about him, and he has an open invite to visit me here. He wrote back saying he enjoyed himself too; such good conversation is uncommon. Thanks for the open invite, Merry Christmas.
We're adults. We're rational and sensible and realize this is going nowhere. We're done.
Not sure about the keeping in touch part, but I have other things to do now - like finding a place to live. Tom and I won't be sharing a flat after all, it seems. Judging by his lame excuses, he thought better of it, and I respect him for that. It would have been cooler if he had the balls to say so, but it's still okay. He's in North America until the end of next week - then we'll see how weird things are. Or aren't. Preferably aren't.
Rebecca is the most brilliant friend a girl could ever have. Our minds work exactly the same way and we make each other laugh until we cry. Last night we drank way too much wine at a restaurant way too expensive for us to actually be able to afford, and when the night was through and we were the only ones left in the joint she pulled the absolutely adorable Yugoslavian (no, there's no more Yugoslavia, but saying you're Yugoslavian instead of Serbian, Croation, Bosnian etc conveys the message that you didn't support that ridiculous war) waiter into the bathroom and made out with him. I'm not kidding. This is TOTALLY not her style at all and I was completely in awe and congratulated her repeatedly all the way home.
For New Years' Eve I'm either going to go meditate at a Zen Buddhist centre or go out and get plastered with Rebecca and all her girls. Rebecca's girls, I have to say, are all so ridiculously hot it kind of makes me uncomfortable. It would be difficult to roll with them on a regular basis.
Anyway, it doesn't matter if men wouldn't even see me in a room with these girls, because one thing I've decided about the precious time I have here in Prague is that I'd rather not spend it worrying about boys. I think the Buddhist Perfect Date Boy may have had a point. I'm practically living on free time for the next 8 months if I'm going to do the MBA; it would be good to spend it becoming a better person, not being boy crazy. My boy crazy phase has been fun. It came on the heels of a boyless period, which came on the heels of a 3.5 year relationship, and it did the trick for a while... but I think I might be done with it. I think it might be time to keep myself to myself, meditate a lot more, party a lot less and get some discipline in my life. I feel like growing up a little.
Don't worry, I'll think of something else to write about.
Heartache
Posted by: lucie
There are too many blanks to fill in just yet, so roll with me. Backstory later.
I think I fell in love and got my heart broken all in about 24 hours just now. It's quite an overwhelming feeling realizing that my heart is that open, so completely open, that I could fall for someone that quickly.
He was on the course. We chatted from time to time and even connected a bit when we had the occasional moment to ourselves, but he was intensely focused on his spiritual development and it wasn't the time or place. I crushed on him a bit, marvelled at him a bit, but quickly realized we'd never get to spend much time together. I left, he stayed for the meditation retreat, and that seemed like the end.
Until we ran into each other at the hotel on Monday afternoon, went for a cup of tea that turned into two pots of tea, had more time to talk than we'd ever found in a month and connected brilliantly. Next thing you know we were taking a cab to Boudha for dinner, ordering together, sharing all our food. It morphed into a date. He opened doors, noticed that I was cold and got us moved to another table (at which he graciously sat with his back to the open door in order to allow me a warmer spot), paid for dinner, was charming and adorable throughout.
We talked about everything; the more I got to know him, the more amazing he seemed. Let me tell you about this guy who came out of nowhere and proved that there was such a thing as a guy who could be everything I think I want in a guy but gave up believing I could ever possibly find.
He's incredibly smart. Not just smart, but he seems to know everything. He's read everything. He understands everything. He can explain everything - in simple terms. He's absolutely brilliant. He's got depth. He meditates, he understands Buddhism as a real philosophy of self improvement and follows it. He has his priorities in order. The boy understands what life is about. He's been successful but realizes it doesn't mean that much; is highly educated but not arrogant about it. Well travelled. Beautiful manners. The most adorable smirk. And completely relaxed with himself.
I think he's the real thing.
Anyway, we just connected. This date was like something out of a romantic comedy, I promise you. There were no awkward moments, no failed jokes, no silences; just flowing conversation, glowing people. And I think I just fell in love with him at the table.
We talked about getting married. Mostly joking, of course - I think I started the running joke at the monastery when he explained to a mutual friend of ours that the wise man remembers to complement his girlfriend occasionally for nothing. "You just say 'baby, you look beautiful today' for no reason," he instructed a younger friend, and I asked if he'd be my boyfriend. It started as a joke. A week later we were hanging out with the same mutual friend and he said something that caused me to look at him and realize, out of the blue, that he was adorable and I could adore him. I could just adore him.
So we discussed this marriage thing over dinner but took the joke about twenty steps further - we negotiated how many kids we'd have, where we'd live, how we'd approach problems in our relationship (everything is negotiable). Everything he said was perfect. Of course we were mostly kidding, but you don't kid 100% about things like that, and I kept looking at him and desperately wanting to blurt out "You're amazing. I love you. Let's get married. I'm serious."
Instead I kept saying 'Come to Eastern Europe.' He's down in the Balkans for the next month or two, seeing relatives, and has no definite plans afterward. He's quitting his job. He could wander. And he said he might just come up - that maybe he'd travel around for a while. 'Come to Eastern Europe,' I kept telling him. 'Visit with an open mind, hang out for a while, maybe move there.'
'What would I do in Eastern Europe?' he'd ask, and I'd say 'Anything. Same as anywhere else.' He has the kind of skills that allow you to work anywhere. It's as good a place to be as any, I'd tell him. Why not? 'Well, and you're there,' he'd say, and I would try to gauge what percentage of the statement was sarcasm. He's not a particularly sarcastic guy. He's a very nice guy. He's also a very laid back guy who wouldn't get caught up in any frenzy about any girl.
Which leads to the next point of difficulty: he's also decided he doesn't want to be involved with anyone for a year. He's taking his Buddhist practice very seriously and wants to focus on it.
So you know, you add it all up, it's 99% likely to be going nowhere. I may not even see him in Eastern Europe. I want to send him a soap opera email: "I can't stop thinking about you. I have to see you again."
This isn't how this boy works. It won't work. Nothing will work. Things will either move naturally in our direction or they won't. And given that wouldn't be that natural, they probably won't.
I'm all at once inspired and heartbroken by this. He inspires me. I admire him. He's amazing. I never actually thought I'd feel that way about anyone - completely amazed - and get the feeling back. That's a wonder. But just for one night? One extended dinner date, a kiss on the cheek, a hug, and a quick cup of goodbye tea the next morning? I actually couldn't get to SLEEP after hanging out with him; that's how much of an impression it made. I spent the whole flight to Delhi thinking about him, stunned and goofy, and finally realized dear god - I'm acting like a person in love. In love. It's pretty intense.
We hung out with a nun we met at the retreat the next morning - amazing woman - and when he went to his room for a minute I blurted out to her, "How adorable is he? I have a huge crush on him." Her reply: "I think you should!"
Amazing. Just an amazing man. I've never met anyone, been on a date with anyone, and felt like they could really truly genuinely be IT right away. Now I have, and he's in Kathmandu, I'm in Delhi, he's headed for the Balkans, I'm headed to Eastern Europe, and I don't know if I'll be lucky enough to see him again - or if it would just set me up for real heartbreak even if I did.
It's not a negative thing. He inspired me - inspires me - to be a better person. And he proves the existence of guys like him. They're out there. But I somehow doubt there are very many of them.
Still, you can't grab onto things. It never works. So there will be emails, and perhaps there will be visits, but in all probability we won't find ourselves living in the same city for long. It's all very beautifully tragic.
Anyway, I met someone who blew my mind. I might be reeling for quite a while. It feels incredible, but I also want to cry.
Pokhara
Posted by: lucie
Pokhara Joe's: coffee, hot chocolate, Oreo cheesecake, not entirely pathetically slow internet, peace, quiet and some softly-played Eagles (one of my favorite embarrassing guilty pleasures). This is definitely Pokhara's premier Internet cafe, and that's saying a lot as there's another one three doors down and another one three doors down from that one ad infinitum.
Nepal is amazing. Come here someday. Come look at the Himalayas, bask in the sun during the day and shiver at night, visit some monasteries, bungy jump, trek, raft or just wander around taking pictures and buying textiles and jewellry. Come here someday whether you're the India/Nepal type or not because it doesn't matter. You don't have to be a hippy or a nature junkie.
Nepali people are among the kindest you'll ever have the good fortune to meet, despite having very little in this world. When we left the monastery some course participants would inevitably gesture to the shacks, children in filthy clothes, dusty roads and skinny, mangy dogs and pontificate: "When I come out of the monastery, I see the teachings presented to me in real life. Birth, suffering, old age and death." Me, I saw people who were dirt poor but smiling. It's all a matter of perspective. The kids on the streets get as much of a kick out of rolling a bike tire around with a stick as kids in the West get out of their playstations.
Tourism is pretty slow this time of year in general, but this year it's particularly bad, or so the shopkeepers tell me. It's probably due in part to fear of the political situation here - most specifically the Maoists blowing up bridges and taking money from trekkers. But aside from their little trekking tax, which is administered with impressive equanimity and organization (everyone gets charged the same amount and they give you a receipt - you just show that to the other Maoists as you make your way around the circuit and they leave you alone), I've yet to hear any scary stories. It's the Nepalis they want to bother. They respect the income that tourists bring. They might still think Communism is a plausible system of government, but they're not entirely stupid.
When you take tourist buses, you glide right through checkpoints. But on semi-local buses, like the one we took to the bungy jumping site the other day (more later), you get stopped and all the Nepali people have to file off and have their bags searched. There are police with guns everywhere but it's no less intimidating than, say, a German airport.
I know I'm probably really naive and lots of scary things go down, but not to the average, sensible tourist.
A quick top five:
Laying on the hill at Lotus and looking at stars
The stupa, cafes and Tibetan community in Boudha
Bungy jumping / swinging at The Last Resort
View of the lake and the Himalayas in Pokhara
Shopping in Thamel
Honorable mention: watching a bootleg of the new Harry Potter on a TV in the corner of a Thamel bar, crammed into a tiny space with a handful of other Westerners as dance music banged on in the background for the other bar patrons.
Bottom five:
Food poisoning
Protozoal infection
Nasty sore throat and cough
The dust and fumes of Thamel
Seeing a few too many people flip out at Lotus
I think I'm going paragliding tomorrow. Pictures to come.
Here is a lovely man
Posted by: lucie
His name is Anup, he's from a village in rural Nepal and he moved to Kathmandu when he was 12. He worked as a dishwasher and room cleaner for a while, then moved on up to selling mandala necklaces and other cheap trinkets to tourists on the street. He learned English this way - no teachers - and eventually spoke well enough to guide tourists around Durbar Square and other areas in the Kathmandu Valley. He's been doing it seven years now.
He's absolutely lovely, a pleasure to hang out with, isn't pushy, doesn't overcharge and won't take you into expensive shops where shopkeepers will rip you off and give him a fat commission.
If you're ever in Nepal, I highly recommend contacting him at anilbabu17@hotmail.com . He can also take you around Patan, Pashupatinath and other places around here, or trekking from Kathmandu or Pokhara!
My new protozoal friends
Posted by: lucie
I made some new friends this week! They're called protozoa, but sometimes in layspeak we refer to them as 'worms.' They decided to move into my digestive tract and make my life a little bit more exciting. It's been fun but I have to kill them now.
One thing you can rely on when you come to Nepal or India or anywhere in Southest Asia, I suppose, is that you'll get diarreah. I mean, that's just a given. No way around it. I already had food poisoning and diarreah in the monastery (they called it "purification of bad karma" but I know food poisoning when I see it), but a protozoal infection is just that bit more special. It's not a parasite, quite, but it's bigger than bacteria!
I couldn't explain all my symptoms to the doctor on the phone because the phone was in the lobby of the hotel, so I was too embarrassed. I wanted to say 'dammit, I'm paying! It doesn't matter if I'm psychosomatic; you still get paid!' but I told him SOME of the symptoms: upset stomach, complete lack of appetite, diarreah. You just don't want to say 'egg burps' or 'horrific gas' in a public place.
Anyway, I got two pills for 40 rupees (just over $.50) and a 1500 rupee visit fee (about $20) and supposedly I'll feel better in 2 days.
International travel is just so exciting, people. And I haven't even been to India yet.
Thamel
Posted by: lucie
It's the off-season in Thamel and the men who mind pashmina shops and other tourist outlets lack the spark they had in November; business is slow and they're correspondingly listless. Where each once greeted you with a 'Namaste, Madam! Come inside!' nowadays you can nearly make it past a shop door completely unnoticed. A couple steps beyond it you might hear a lazy, halfhearted 'come in' from a man who clearly doesn't expect much. In December you can name your price.
The milk scammers are still out in force; boys who will tell you the capital of any country and then ask you to buy them milk in return ("Madam, I don't ask you for any money but please buy me some milk."), mothers holding babies and grabbing you by the arm as you walk past. If you stop and give them ten rupees they explain they don't want money - just milk for the baby. A friend of mine fell for this yesterday and was taken to a store and shown a special package of milk on the top shelf - 500 rupees. That's something like $7. Special tourist price.
When you buy the milk and wander off the scammers go back to the store, where they have a deal with the manager, and return it for the cash. The store managers get a cut.
Kathmandu Guest House, overpriced for the season but still worth the extra few bucks for the laid-back courtyard and wireless Internet, is quiet; the musicians in the courtyard overpower most travellers' talk. All except one shitfaced Brit who stumbled in last night and proclaimed 'Fuck off!' with a giggle to anyone who would listen, amused at the tone of the words, at his own nerve, at the reactions of the waiters who first took minor offense and then laughed along with him for lack of any other immediately plausible reaction.
'Fkoff! Fkoff!' matey drawled repeatedly to the waiters, to himself, to other guests' backs. Then he ordered a brandy and actually got it. That's how polite Nepalis are. It all worked out in the end; he ambled into the lobby, sipped the brandy and watched CNN, staff occasionally helped steady him, patiently, and no one told him to fuck off. He settled down.
It's funny doing journal entries on the computer again.
Yesterday I took care of business. I booked my bungee jumping and swinging trip at one of the highest sites in the world for Wednesday. Thursday I'll take a 6-7 hour bus ride to Pokhara, where paragliding, rafting and chilling out by the lake await, and Sunday I'll fly back. I may be repeating myself here but I'm too lazy to check.
Tomorrow I'm hiring a guide and a driver for $40 - they know everything about everything and will show me all the sites in the cities near Nepal. Crazy stuff like the monkey temple, cremation sites at Pashupatinath where bodies are constantly being burned, and all the palaces of Durbar Square. The guides, I'm told, memorize the Lonely Planet, which is ideal as you'd hate to see what happened to you if you walked around with your nose in a Lonely Planet around here. They tell you what you'd read and even quote you page numbers.
Today... Today I have no plans but I suppose I'll walk around and take pictures, perhaps get a massage, try to relax. I've bought all the pashminas a girl can buy and more than my fair share of jewellry; I don't need any more Moving Tigers Games or incense, one extremely unflattering fake $8 North Face fleece is enough and there's just no room in my luggage for a Singing Bowl. There's no room in my luggage for anything. I've bought far too much already and haven't even hit Delhi yet. Luggage is going to be a problem.
Freedom in Kathmandu
Posted by: lucie
I wish I could explain how amazing it feels to be free. It's not that we weren't free in the monastery; in truth we could skip as many sessions as we wanted with little hassle, go down into Boudha whenever we wanted, and generally partake of whatever we pleased. But there was something about it, you know? And there's something about being out. Despite the fact that I just left yesterday I feel like I've been out for weeks. Time moves in strange ways around here. I also feel like 'real life' is at least 6 months behind me when in fact it's just a little over 30 days in the past.
Everyone who left the course yesterday rather than stick around to have a Vajrasattva initiation (I'll explain this stuff some other time) met at a famous tourist/expat restaurant called Fire and Ice to enjoy some pizza and beer last night. It was funny to see all the same girls wearing makeup and jewelry, all the boys looking that bit more together and alert, and more than one person commented that it was as if we'd all had the same dream. We indulged in our fair share of idle gossip and alcohol and it felt great.
Other highlights of the last few days have included taking a long, truly hot shower and using wireless Internet at Kathmandu Guest House. Oh, and finding out that I got accepted into my MBA program! I'm in. Unconditional offer. I am 90% sure I'll go, too. It somehow makes the next 6-8 months feel far less serious, and I'm far less worried about the living situation, the Tom situation, the work situation... I may even take a couple of months to go backpacking before I settle down for 15 months of study.
Tomorrow I'm signing up to go bungee jumping and swinging near the Tibetan border. Apparently it's one of the highest bungee jumps in the world. If you're going to do it, do it up, right? Other plans include paragliding, rafting, and anything else that doesn't involve sitting on one's ass and listening to hypnotic lectures about practicing the dharma. I want to DO STUFF.
Edging closer and closer to the ability to actually write about the whole experience, but I'm not quite there yet. It was really good in the end. Really brilliant. Just not in the way I expected.
End in sight
Posted by: lucie
Phew. Okay, the whole thing is nearly over. I've been escaping to the nearby town a lot, and I can say for sure that the day I wrote my last entry was by far the peak of tension with this whole experience.
It's been interesting. Definitely definitely not what I expected, but such an experience. It's intense for everyone in different ways, which is the biggest trip. I've learned an immense amount about people, and an immense amount - academically, anyway - about Buddhism. I think I've learned, from spending more time in the library than the teachings, that Zen Buddhism is most in line with my beliefs up to this point.
I've learned some interesting things about how I relate to people, and authority figures, and people who try to tell you what to believe, and guys I like, and guys who like me.
You just learn a lot in a strange pressure cooker where there is no alcohol or TV and a lot of Westerners are packed into a small space looking for The Answers.
Still struggling with how much of my journals to post here and whether to do the freelance story about this course that I had planned, but I think I'll go as far as I can in the direction of honesty - with some edits to keep anyone's feelings from getting hurt. I figure everyone who googles intensively enough will ultimately find this blog as there is a real lack of personal accounts of this course, so it's important to keep it relatively kind.
The daily teachings never really did get around to inspiring me, unfortunately, but Lama Zopa Rinpoche is here now and I've found his teachings really valuable. He's gone on for two days about emptiness and despite the fact that he coughs every five seconds and is notoriously difficult to understand, I'm getting it all. It's going right in and leaving me breathless. Very few people are having this experience and I find it not half odd that his teachings are impacting me in this way, having been one of the most uninspired, but there you go.
Emptiness is pretty cool stuff. I probably won't try to explain it, but if you've studied Buddhism or done a lot of psychedelics you probably know what I'm talking about. Merely imputed me, merely imputed you, none of it is really real, all that jazz. Maybe I'll type up some of my lecture notes later.
Anyway... that's the update. I'm down in Boudha again, waiting to pick up an incredible Thangka (painting) of the Wheel of Life, which I'll definitely write more about later. I've been taking so many pictures it's untrue. This experience, this whole experience, has been disturbing and exhilerating and most bizarre but I'm glad I've had it.
Oh, and the people who got brainwashed - they wanted it. And they'll all be okay. So it's all good.
There's so much to say, it may just not all be sayable. I'll do my best later.
Oh, Tom's ex-girlfriend emailed to offer me a room in her flat. I'm not sure how much she knows or what that means, but the Prague situation is feeling a little bit shaky. Luckily it's a merely imputed flat in a merely imputed city, a merely imputed Tom and a merely imputed me, so there's nothing to actually worry about because none of us truly exist.
I'll try to explain some of that stuff later.
Best wishes to all of you out there in the real world!
xoxo
