A month in India was not nearly enough to see all I needed to see. I will most certainly return. I already miss my new friends in India. The six of us shared an incredible learning experience. We watched each other grow in all ways. With every week our flexibility with bends and folds improved, our mind became more still and less distracted and mantras became more natural and accessible. All of this came with dedication, sweat, grunts, groans, people snoring in savasana and inappropriate outbursts of laughter. It felt like family. I haven’t laughed this much in a very long time. I have officially completed my Meditation Teacher Training and Sound Healing certification!
Currently, I am in Kathmandu, Nepal. I have been here now for about 5 days. On the first day, I took myself to a modest, tucked in the middle of an alley, spa and had my feet scrubbed. The young lady used what looked like a metal scraping tool on my calluses, periodically looking up at me with astonishment. All I could do was shrug.
I found a lovely boutique hotel, Dom Himalaya Hotel, in the Thamel district. Thamel, in its geniuses, was a medieval site of Buddhist learning, and is the main commercial area of Kathmandu.
It is a network of crooked roads, busy with vendors and hagglers, road construction, and a wide selection of shops and hubs for mountaineers gearing up for treks.
Traffic is busy and chaotic though it seems tame compared to India. I’ve spent the days roaming as I do-familiarizing myself with nearby yoga classes and cafes while slipping into various local must-sees. The staff at this little hotel are so consistently sweet and kind. Each day they ask how my day went, genuinely inquiring about the things I have seen and done and how I am feeling.
It took me no time to find an authentic cooking class here in Kathmandu. As luck would have it, I was the only participant. On the menu for the day was Aloo chop(Nepalese type of croquettes); Chicken Momos (dumplings) and Carrot Pudding for dessert. We started the class with a cup of Cheya, a Nepali version of Chai. The benefit of a solo class is the closeness one experiences cooking with another. She shared stories of cooking alongside her mother…these stories became the masala in every dish she taught me to cook. I had tried momo before and I can honestly say these were the very best momos I have yet to eat. It is all in the dough!
Given the level of intimate disclosures that I have shared with you readers over the years of blogging (from being lost and feeling overwhelmed to heartache and distress; scary run-ins and dirty feet to name a few) why stop now? I will take no shame in sharing with you that over the past week, I have struggled with a terrible case of Delhi belly. This has only happened one other time in all my years of travel. The other time was in Peru the day before hiking the Machu Pichu trail. I have been in denial about this and keep eating too many spicy foods. Now, after indulging in all these momos, I can no longer deny it. The natural remedies I tried were not working. I pushed it too far. It was time to bring out the big guns.
While here in Kathmandu, I was introduced to a local man who shared his contact information and told me if there is anything I needed during my stay, to not hesitate to reach out. Well, the day came. “Um Dinesh? Do you think you can help me find a pharmacy?” Within seconds he replied, “Of course!!!”. I threw on a light dress and made my way down the path to the main road. There he was, on his motorbike. Fortunately, I had some yoga pants in my bag. “Just a second” I slipped behind the wall while a security guard looked at me perplexedly, threw on some pants under my dress and hopped on the back. The community pharmacy was the same as it was in Peru. A small open store with metal shutters.
He asked what was wrong so he could tell the lady standing behind the counter. I tilted my head and contorted my face in disgust “um diarrhea?” He smiled and translated. She asked how long I had felt that way. He told her and in seconds, and I mean seconds, she had three different types of pills lined up and confidently asserted how each one was to be administered. I don’t question much when I travel. I bowed. “Namaste”. She smiled back, “Namaste”.
Off we went to the grocery store so I could buy some spices. While there, a mantra was playing in the store that I had learned in India. Dinesh was also familiar with this mantra, so down the aisles we sauntered, basket in hand singing the mantra. I had struggled to remember the Sanskrit words for the mantras. My teacher said it just comes, you will start dreaming about them. And, I kid you not, one night I woke with this one particular mantra playing in my head, word for word. All these fragmented pieces of learning were coming together with cohesion and integration.
Later in the day, another friend I had met here, took me to dinner in the Garden of Dreams where I had visited earlier in the week.
After dinner, Dinesh returned to take me to the Monkey Temple. This time I was prepared for the bike. Oh how I love riding on the back of a bike where every sense is awakened. I am more of a ‘hop on the back of motorbike with a local’ than a tour bus kinda traveller and these opportunities seem to always find me. It was late when he picked me up so the gates were closing. Up the mountain we rode, the lights of Kathmandu even more illuminated by the full moon above.
With Dinesh being local, we were allowed to enter despite how late it was. There was not one tourist. There were only a few locals who lived up on the hill, the monks, ‘holy’ monkeys and stray dogs. Swayambhunath Monkey Temple is a sacred Buddhist temple. It was said that Manjushree, who is considered to be the oldest and most significant bodhisattva, raised the temple hill for the Stupa. He let his hair grow long when he was supposed to keep it short and in doing so the head lice grew and transformed into ‘holy monkeys’. We walked around the various ornate shrines and temples. The monkeys were tucking in for the night.
I let him know that on full moons I make wishes and asked if he would like to do the same. He was intrigued.
We found our way to the highest point and on the ancient stone with our faces to the bright moon, I told him to release whatever he wanted to let go of and make wishes for all he wanted to receive. He smiled and nodded. We started with three Oms and then began our private dialogue with all that laid above. Several minutes had passed by the time I had finished and when I opened my eyes, his eyes were already open and he was smiling at the moon. He turned to me and said peacefully, “I did not take long”. “Oh”, I said, shamefully tallying up my long list of requests. “Yes, there is nothing I need to change and I only had one wish. Peace for everyone”. My heart dropped and I was bumped into profound humility. This young man, like many here in Nepal, works 6 days a week without the luxuries and privileges that we take for granted. And he, without thought, offered his wish to the benefit of others.
Dinesh and the others I have met connect with such sincere kindness. “Did you take your meds this morning?” Dinesh reminds me. “Tell me what you did today” the staff here ask every time I come back and listen with genuine interest. I have been on my own for some time since my divorce. I have become used to taking care of myself and not relying on anyone. Perhaps too much so. I suppose I am not always so comfortable with such gestures of concern or care. To be able to lean into that is not easy for me. I realize how self-protected I have become. Here in Nepal, I cannot deny how utterly hindering rather than helpful this is. The journey inward is not so much about finding self. It is about being ok with self when alone with self and ultimately loving oneself. And in doing so, be better able to receive love from others. To find the sweet spot between independence and interdependence. I now can’t accept anything less than this feeling of sincere love and kindness. I can’t go back from this feeling. I don’t want to. It’s not complicated. Our fears make it complicated. What if I get hurt again? What if I’m let down? What if ..what if ..what if. But what if when we put fear to the side, and open our hearts while refusing to abandon ourselves, we find the peace we desire? It’s a risk I am willing to take. Keeping out the potential for hurt also keeps out the potential for love.
Nepal is a deeply spiritual multi-ethnic and multi-religious country. I have heard consistently from the locals I have met, how accepting one another is of religious differences. It’s as though they see past the separateness and duality, unlocking the most important common denominator-love. We are in such a hurry in our Western world. Too busy to make time for ourselves and those we love. Where are we in such a hurry to go? If the end of this human life on earth is death, then why are we in such a hurry to race time? A bit of a ramble. This happens when left alone with one’s thoughts surrounded by temples, holy monkeys and smiling faces.
Love is all you need.
Namaste.
