Late Night Escapade

Out in Kodai late last night, I found myself in an unusually precarious situation. Sitting around a bonfire singing songs with some locals, I barely noticed the massive bison staring at me from across the flames. Thus, on my way home after hours through Kodai, aside from avoiding the usual miscreants that may be lurking in shadows, I must now also remember to make my way very slowly as not to startle any large bison that may be out for a late night snack.

Samsara

Every once and awhile, I find myself in one location more than once. Seeing as I’m constantly drawn by my own curiosities, I rarely seek out repetition in fear of boredom. However, as I’ve learned this past week, sometimes revisiting a specific place can also help bring about new revelations.

I was asked to return to Bylakuppe to chaperone a group of high schoolers to an Interschool Program organized by the Foundation for Universal Responsibility by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. In short, this was a week full of intense dialogue regarding various religions, global awareness, and approaches to conflict resolution. Overall, things that are basically all  my cup of tea.

Even though I had just visited the Tibetan community of Bylakuppe three weeks ago, this time I was able to experience almost a completely new side of Bylakuppe. That is, the Tibetans themselves. Throughout the week, I had the opportunity to study jewelry with a Tibetan refugee, learn the art of silk brocade Tongka making, sit amidst ten people who spoke only Tibetan for an entire day, envy the genuinely beautiful laughs that Tibetans emit on a regular basis, stand next to three giant unfinished bronze Buddhas, cry with elderly Tibetan spiritual seekers, visit a nunnery (below), and finally get to see Buddhist monks in their ‘natural’ habitat (not roller skating this time).

Since I can’t share all of these experiences fully, I thought I’d just quickly show you a glimpse of what was certainly the most bewildering thing I saw in Bylakuppe this time. Every sundown at the monasteries, there occurs an event known as a debate session, a sort of ritual that challenges all the 2,000 something monks at once on their knowledge of Buddhist philosophy in a very demanding way. Basically, one monk stands over his seated disciple, yells a riddle at him, and the seated monk must respond by the time the stander lurches forward and claps in his face (usually about 5 seconds). Every time their hands clap together, it is supposed to signify heaven and hell clashing together. If the monk answers correctly, order will be restored. Who knew it was that simple?

While heading back to Kodai, I found myself yet again in the middle of a countrywide celebration. This time however, the city of Bangalore was celebrating Diwali, the festival of lights. Crammed into one auto rickshaw with three girls and three pieces of luggage, our driver was forced to laboriously swerve around random spurts of fireworks shooting off in the middle of the streets all around us. Despite all the chaos, there’s nothing like getting hit in the rear end by a few pebbles blasted from the sparks of Indian firecrackers to remind you that you are back in India, a place where anything can happen, and festival season is still here. And, in order celebrate the occasion properly, and with this I mean in keeping with the theme of new beginnings, I did the unthinkable and ate at my first ever Indian McDonalds! I had a 'panir salsa wrap' which is apparently one of the staples of the veg menu here at MceeDees. As a somewhat American raised individual I'm not sure this is even koshir, however, I'm glad I was able to put some spice into my cyclical adventures. Thus, with this Tibetan/ Indian tale of samsara, the ongoing cycle of life, happy Diwali everyone!

Gandhi's Legacy

A few years ago when I was living in Delhi, on October 2^nd, I visited the memorial of one of India’s most beloved heroes, Mahatma K. Gandhi, along with thousands of mourners. This national holiday known as Gandhi Jayanti typically celebrates the affectionately dubbed Gandhi-Ji as the Father of India, devout vegetarian Hindu, political activist, national hero, father, husband, and icon for world peace.

(Gandhi Park, New Delhi, 2007)

This year, I celebrated Gandhi Jayanti by attending a school-wide American BBQ. There was no beef included in the buffet, yet, even though I’m not Indian, I couldn’t help feeling a little bit guilty enjoying my corn on the cob while knowing that Gandhi-Ji starved more than once to save his nation. Perhaps legacies are simply a thing of the past.

Party in Maisuru

On the way back to Kodai, we stopped in the city of Mysore (formerly Maisuru), one of the major cities in the state of Karnataka. There we saw palaces, Tipoo the Tiger's burial grounds (a sultan who stood up against the Brits, did well for awhile, then lost), and a very tall Christian Church that seemed to be aiming pretty high to the heavens. It makes you wonder whether they were trying to make up for something. Anyways, I was mostly impressed by the script that Karnata speakers use as it looks something akin to upside down macaronis. I will admit, however, that the languages here in South India are getting very confusing. For example, here, while there are five ways to tell people to be quiet (from top to bottom: English, Karnata, Tamil, Hindi, and Urdu), camera and mobile usage is presumed self explanatory with a mere icon. Hmmm.

Lucky for me, while being in Mysore, the city famous for it’s sultans and lavish royal families, we happened upon its biggest party of the year: Dussehra. Dussehra is a Hindu festival that usually lasts for about ten days, and involves a lot of colored lights, parades, fireworks, greetings, and food. Not only was I fortunate enough to spend this glorious occasion in the city most famous for its Dusserha celebrations but I got to yet again be part of the holiday honoring my favorite Hindu goddess, Durga.

Durga, the most awesome of all the female goddesses, sprung from the energy of all twelve major male gods to slay a buffalo demon that could only be weakened by female seduction. You see, despite all the male power present in the Hindu pantheon, it lacked a certain element called shakti, female power or essence. This special feminine energy is needed for the universe to exist. Yet, this energy is so powerful that it has the power to both maintain and destroy all the balance in the universe. Durga herself is the very incarnation of this shakti energy, as she is the all-powerful female goddess, capable of destroying demons in a unique feminine way that the male gods could never even begin to conjure up. Basically, nobody messes with this feisty lady.

Thus, my Durga rants and biases aside, happy Dusserha everyone! This tradition of Dusserha (known as Durgapooja in North India) has become so deeply embedded into Indian culture that even now, sitting in my house back in the Christian town of Kodaikanal, the sounds of Indian music and fireworks in honor of Durga sweep through the hills like wildfire. Shakti is indeed all around us.