Leaving Tibet

Waiting in the Airport

July 14, 1999

I’m heading home today.  The others, in my group, left two days ago. I stayed one day too long. So I am alone, anxious to get home to the comforts of my world.

This was a difficult trip. I have been on more physically strenuous trips, but this trip repeatedly pushed at every level of my comfort zone. I’m an American through and through. The open sewage, the dirty hands, the public urination, the runny noses, the sneezing without covering your mouth, these hygiene issues were difficult for me. I was repulsed by basic body functions, which we, as Americans, hide. But these were not important to the Tibetans. It didn’t even occur to the Tibetans that this was inappropriate or unclean. But it was an adjustment for me every time I saw it.

The people’s insatiable appetite to foster their spirituality astonished me. They placed their spirituality above all else. But I’m not really sure they knew why they do what they do. With very little formal education there’s no common thread of what people learn. Oral history serves as the primary means of education. I wonder how much is lost or embellished in the translation. I wonder how the teachings differ from village to village.

Most Tibetans lead a harsh, simple life. The quality of their lives isn’t much different from their livestock. They live in a small hut with very poor conditions, surrounded by their own sewage. They have very few material things.  But they sing together a lot. As an entire village, on a work crew, or in a small group of weavers, they sing together in harmony and work to the pace of the rhythm of their song.

The monks’ chanting was alluring to me.  I couldn’t hear enough of it. Most of the men chanted in a deep baritone voice. Several times I had an urge to sit right down next to them and chant alongside them.  Fortunately for them I thought it would be more prudent if I just left them alone.

They drink a lot of tea, mostly yuk butter tea.  Yoon Dern, our guide, always seemed surprised that we didn’t want any tea; I never had the heart to tell her it just tasted awful. The food was awful. I thought I didn’t enjoy it because I’ve been sick but Bob told me my illness had nothing to do with the taste. The food was just plain awful. It was a struggle to get the cooks to minimize the heavy use of oil but we continued to beg at every meal and sometimes we prevailed.

The scenery was gorgeous. I couldn’t get enough of it. Everything looks majestic. Beautiful magnificent mountains rolled one right after another.  The scenery went unspoiled for miles and miles and miles. Everything looks like a stunning painting.

 

After the trip I’m more agile than I’ve been in years. For the past three weeks, I have been up and down so many steps and ladders and mountainsides. Towards the end of the trip I didn’t even dread the side of a ladder. I just climbed it.

I learn more about Buddhism than I had anticipated. I thought I knew a lot about the religion.  But I discovered I knew nothing about the cultural aspect of the teachings. I didn’t know about the mystics and the mysticisms, the fairies, the good spirits, the evil spirits and everything else. I only knew the doctrine. I think the Tibetans only know the cultural aspect and very little of the doctrine.

As always, my travel mates were enjoyable. The six of us gelled quickly and their company was enjoyable.  I wonder if I’ll ever see this group again.  Some of us have tentative plans to meet Manhattan the fall. I wonder if we ever will.  We left rather haphazardly the other day. Our goodbyes were hurried.  We all left in such a manner that it will be easy to move on without each other.

When I reflect back on the trip I’m glad I came to Tibet.  I won’t come back here. The conditions are just too harsh. But as always it’s interesting to see that you can have a quality-of-life without all the extraneous material belongings and pressures I put on myself. But maybe next year, I’ll go to Disney World for vacation.

To read more stories, check out: bkmemoirs.blogspot.com
or bkmemoirs.wordpress.com