From Brahma to Buddha, Fall 2008

I can't help but compare the level and type of cultural contact I'm experiencing in this place with that of Dharamsala. Sure, I was in Mcloed Ganj, the refuge of a sizable body of Tibetan exiles and their spiritual leader, attending lectures given by proponents of the Tibetan cause, eating Tibetan food, witnessing traditional Tibetan crafts of all sorts, learning about Tibetan Buddhism, visiting Tibetan institutions, and living with a Tibetan family... but I didn't feel connected to that culture. I didn't feel as if I was living inside of that culture. The Tibetan presence that everyone spoke of seemed so distant to me, so blurred and unclear in it's identity. Don't get me wrong, elements of 'Tibet' were certainly thriving amongst the community of exiles, but the fact that I perceived these attitudes, philosophies, religious traditions, and tangible items of culture (The production of handicraft skills) as individual entities or elements as opposed to pieces of a larger Tibetan puzzle is exactly why I felt a disconnect. It's as if these motherland representation elements are delicious picked fruits, rich and full of sensational quality, but severed from their natural source- left without nutrition. Destined to slowly rot and shrivel up if left uneaten. I suppose that's where the interested and sympathetic foreigner becomes useful. This is where hope currently resides. The group was fortunate enough to enjoy the company of a wonderful series of speakers, all connected to the exile community in one way or another. Despite the wide range of topics, varying from speaker to speaker, there seemed to be one common message: A necessity to transmit the heritage of the Tibetan people not only to the outside world, but to the younger generations of Tibetans produced by those who were a part of the diaspora. So, instead of making contact with the spirit of 'The roof of the world', I discovered the culture of Mcloed Ganj- an eclectic mix of exiled Tibetans, Himmachal Indians, and foreigners of all shapes and sizes. I could continue on with my thoughts and observations of the community in Mcloed, but I feel it is enough to simply state that my run-in with the exile community was much different than what I had anticipated.

It was saddening at times to assess the Tibetan situation. Their plight is unimaginable for a fellow like myself. I have an enormous amount of respect for those who remain positive and determined to uphold their culture in the face of unrelenting homeland occupation and tradition sustainment strain.

A very special woman by the name of Rinchin spoke to us during our stay in Dharamsala. Something she said made quite an impact on me. "Living in exile could be miserable and depressing, but it all depends on your attitude. It can about facing the world and finding inner strength."

It brings to mind what wise Geshe Lhokdar discussed with the group in October. It brings to mind what the religious scholar/ pleasant Dutchman Rudi discussed with the group just a few days ago at a Hindu temple- the view that humanity chose the suffering involved with higher intelligence and self-consciousness- decided to undergo a tumultuous evolution process, and the inevitable gain that we shall attain through all of the toil and trouble. It brings to mind something Mirise said just before trek... that she hoped the venture would be rough. She claimed that she hoped we would reach what our fearless leaders oftentimes refer to as the 'misery zone', because only through the most difficult of situations do you learn the most valuable things. Perhaps one can learn valuable things without being in the 'misery zone', but I'd have to agree- discomfort can be quite a catalyst for positive development.

I must say, Dharamsala was nice. I longed for the place quite a bit in the days following our departure by taxi. My family was splendid... ah, good old homestay brother Dewe and his hilarious friends- nice memories are attached. I'll never forget the room in which I slept, decorated with the strangest little trinkets and nonsensical motivational/ cheesy sentiment slogan infested posters. Everyone was enjoying themselves, from what I can remember... ISP progress was in full swing throughout the group, which gave everyone something to chat about over tea, the atmosphere of our temporary home was delightful, and a cozy coffee shop bearing the name 'First Cup' earned our loving patronage, providing a large chunk of the group with a morning rendezvous location for bonding time and last minute Hindi homework.

Om. Tushita. Naughty monkeys. I plan on continuing meditative practice in the United States of America. I was able to transform a playlist of brain pestering memory music into a trio of Buddhist parody songs representative of my general knowledge of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy. Most importantly, the experience reintroduced me to the prospect of spirituality. It seemed comforting during the past four or five years of my life to believe in an ultimate lack of meaning in the universe- particularly in all that the human race is responsible for. I can no longer carry that outlook on life.

Man... Jaipur. I've gotta get around to that... later. I will say that my dance teacher is one of the most spectacular beings that I've ever come into contact with during my eighteen years of Joseph Wade Collier experience... OH, and her father: a lovable oddball genius who insists that I loudly sing what he refers to as a 'Rajasthani song' on a daily basis. I've run into so many folks that want to see me reap the benefits of my current situation-eager to an inspiring degree to impart a knowledge of Indian culture. Maybe this blogging thing isn't so bad after all. Consider this unwanted obligation fulfilled for now.

Sincerely,
Wa Deh Ji

P.S.

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