Tag Archive for 'ping pong'

I have gone sightseeing.

What have I found?

Oh, SuperForest, to say that a lot has happened in the intervening moments since I last wrote you would be an understatement of gigantic proportions, a poverty of expression, a lilliputia of latency, and for that delay I do apologize; I have been busy Leaping Tiger Gorges

and spinning Shangri-la prayer wheels

and visiting more mountain lakes of Yunnan.

And then a little over a week ago, I went over the hump, flying from China to Nepal. And Nepal, my friends, has opened up to me incredibly so.

I landed, as I often do, by surfing a couch, where I had a handful of days adventuring with a cadre of fellow photographers, canon-necklaced nerds f-stopping at every possible point, wandering to and fro in this sacred valley, wearing in our soles and smiles.

I thought often of the magical nature of friendship, of this soft music that is formed in the harmony of hearts and minds and agreements and disagreements and shared interests and places and smiles and sharing and togetherness; it has been to wonderful to form bonds with Hungarians and Australians and Scots and English and Lebenase and Swedes and French (Oh, the French!) and all and all and being the Representative American (hey guys, Obama’s pretty cool right?) and sharing this magical country where everyone smiles and it penetrates to your spine and echoes out your eyes and all of a sudden everyone is smiling, panting with delight like “mom just got home!” golden retreivers but you’re home and you’re mom all at once. Kathmandu.

I’ve gotten to know Shiva, who is an entirely awesome dude, given to multiple incarnations, some playful, some flaming-sworded, the creator and destroyer — for this is a positive destruction, removing what you don’t need in order to grow into even more! Do not fear Shiva’s blade; he comes to give your soul more range. In fact, last Wednesday was the beginning of Shiva-ratni, one of the biggest Hindu fesitvals on earth, and I was lucky enough to be a part of the aforementioned myriad band to participate in these grand swathes of humanity, so many colors (ah, the Hindu palette! so powerful! so vibrant!) all together and babas (ashen holy men) and cremations by the bagmati river (powerful) and street parties (also powerful).

 

 

Orange and red and green and smiles pressing pressing pressing inside,I smell, I breathe in, smoke ashes of another and another. Their remains remain in my nose in my face in my hair in my heart. beat beat beat it goes and faces face me taste me (em)brace me all of this together and together death death death in order to live in orange and red and green and

 

Then my sister came.

 

MY SISTER! ALL THE WAY FROM HAWAII! AFTER HAVING DINNER WITH JACKSON AND MELISSA!

WOW.

 

And then things really got going. You know, the usual, wandering about this magical city that doesn’t have electricity most of the time, getting to know Boudha this neighborhood of Tibetan Buddhism, some 30 or 40 monastaries all together, young monks chilling in the corner store, dogs that act like monks sleeping (meditating) next to them, beggars and holy men (often one in the same), candles at night and chlidren running up with smiles (nameste! hello!).

 

And, being incredibly blessed, we wandered into a small corner bar in the neighborhood next to ours, to a collection of nameste (literally, to the god in you) from then strangers, and were welcomed by a wonderful mother, and three daughters who run the place. They gave us rice-beer and curry and mo-mos (that’s Nepali dumplings) and so much sweetness and love. We went back a few days later, and this morning (which is Woman’s Day in Nepal) Mena, (14), cooked us breakfast and then with Akriti (10) and Pernooma (5) showed us around the center of town, it did not matter where we went we were walking on air and puffed up by the sweetness of their cotton candy giggles. I have never believed in anyone more than these girls; Mena wishes to be a gerontological doctor one day, and with my whole heart know that she can and will, and I (and I hope you) will help to make that possible. Mother says to give respect to elders, show love to juniors; sounds like the rule-sets on the path the enlightenment, my compadres. I love this family. We’re going to be friends forever.

A few days ago I went back to Pashupatni, the holy site of Shiva-ratri, with Liza. The place was less shoulder-to-shoulder, but still full of sadhus, the ashen death-fascinated holy men who ask for money and be careful of taking pictures, or even connecting eyes — it’s all quite capitalistic it seems, indulgent if you will. We wandered by the once-mighty, now dammed Bagmati iIver and toward Yogi Caves, where men of yore would sit and meditaded. And we heard music

So we walked up the stone steps, into a small, simple structure, and sat with some dudely dudes playing guitar, harmonium, the usual. And there was a young man of particular vibration, clad in orange and tan, who the others referred to as Baba, meaning holy man, whose eyes shone brilliant amber enthusiasms.

We went up to his cave, the next flat up in the complex, where he has been living for more than a decade. Only 25, he is pursuing a pure life, and radiates so much wisdom, and sometimes, regarding the aforementioned pay-by-the-blessing practice, the wisdom of Christ in the temple:

They sell the habits of holy men!

I am angry with them, he
says, pointing out, within the
river and tower and monkeys
to all the orange-ashed asking

many asking many asking many
money tap your shoulder,
touch your shoulder
give!

drumbeats and harmonia drift in
from the cave below

“we must not follow money
we must not follow sex,
when I choose this path,
only what is real,not the flood, the flood
in your eyes”

where they found
enlightenment
“two months?”
“no! many years!”

he smiles.

“you are very lucky!

meditate
feel the power within
give love to the world

that is all.

do you agree, my brother?”