About Vipassana

Nicolas

Craving and aversion...impermanence...remain equanimous...sometimes through both the nostrils simultenously...

4am. The bells ring outside. I open the eyes and stand up. In the bathroom I prepare a bucket of cold water. I stand for a few seconds, maybe a minute in front of the bucket. I breath, take a few handfull of this freezing water to wet my whole body, and soap everything. I look at the water left in the bucket. I take it with both hands and raise it in front of me. I have a thought for those times when I've been jumping in the snow after sauna, before to pour the whole bucket on my head. Fastly I dry, dress up and go to Dhamma hall.

Crossed-legs I will sit here for many hours today. After a cold shower I feel completly loaded. I could do anything, running, cutting wood, cooking, or I could be at school with a group of kids. Instead of that I go sitting and remain still until breakfast. Sometimes the record player tell us more about the technique. Observe the breath...be aware of the sensations through all the body...the true nature of those sensations is the nature of arising and passing away...arising and passing away... It is hard to concentrate, as the morning brings up sensual inspirations.

During 10 days we have been following the Vipassanā meditation courses. Vipassana is a technique in which one focus on his sensations, to be aware of them and to keep a healthy mind. It's not something abstract or spiritual at all. However Vipassana courses are known for being rather strict and tough. For 10 days, interdiction to speak, to use any form of communication, to have physical contact, to observe religious practice, etc.. Everyday waking up at 4am and going to bed at 9pm, we managed to fit about 10 hours of daily meditation between those times.

My main worry before starting the course was the food. The 3 meals were at 6am, 11am and 5pm and are strictly vegetarian. But the food during the 10 days was truly great. It was tasty and various, and we had possibility of making as much refill as necessary.

On the first days we observed only the breathe. This was hard. I could not stay on my own breathe more than a couple of minutes before my mind starts wandering away. But on the second or third day I experienced amazing sensations in my nose, like if I was feeling each single pores of my nose. In the middle of the week we started observing different parts of the body.

After 10 days, silence is over. And so one can speak to his roommate for the first time. It is funny then to hear my own voice. Like the voice of someone else. I went through the 10 days without breaking the rule of noble silence. I didn't even went to speak to any assistant teacher (although this was allowed). During the whole last day when silence was broken, I felt extremly euphoric. On this day I also got to know that there is possibility to have very hot water in the common bathroom. I had then a painful thought for each of my mornings.

Tince

On the very first evening as I enter my room I find a huge, hairy spider chilling out on the wall. The law of noble silence is being broken immediately as I have to cooperate with my roommate to get rid of the monster. Later on it turns out that our residential quarters are full of those. It seems that this week will be more challanging than I expected.

First three days we spent just observing our breath and concentrating all our attention on always smaller and smaller area around the nostrils. Me and my breath aren't very good friends for a long time already, this is not for me, I'm thinking. Mind that should be concentrating only on my nostrils is wandering from one thought to another without any sensible order. It seems that a human mind is one huge garbage pile, bigger than Getliņi or Delhi market, one can find anything necesarry and unnecesarry there! Maybe I should leave here and now, this idea doesn't let me alone for all the three days.

On the fourth day we have sharpened our concentration and are ready to start learning vipassana meditation technique. So all this torment was just the beggining, a training course? I'm worried about what will follow, but  vainly. From now on we have to examine all our body part by part paying attention to any sensations. As there are more things to focus on, it gets easier to stay attentive. Even sitting in lotus position becomes a bit easier, sometimes I manage to sit for 30 minutes still (teacher demands one hour). I do not hasten desperaingly to the yard for stretching myself on each five minutes break anymore. Walking back and forth in the beautiful garden of the centre now seems enough to take rest between long meditation hours.

Following days went like a roller-coaster, up and down, up and down. Joy about succesful meditation and excitement about the benefits I will get out of it, despair about the pain in knees and back, "wrong"  breath, drowsiness. Pictures from past and future rising up in my wandering monkey mind annoy me and as time passes I start to group them by topic acquiring a mental mosaic of myself. It's not an inspiring job. Remain purrrfect equanimity, purrrfect equanimity, I hear the voice of the teacher and go back to observing bodily sensations. From one part to the next one, next one... Everything is impermanent, one should not worry over bad luck as those worries will only multiply ones misery; one should not generate cravings for the goods of life as they will also pass.

For the ones worrying that I will return from this trip "too enlightened" and for the ones being interested in trying it themselves, please check www.dhamma.org . Even though this meditation technique is said to be the same that Gautama Buddha has been practising, it is not attached to any religion or sect. It doesn't involve any religious rites and rituals or cult of any personality and emphasizes that only ones own work and experience on this path matters. So even such a sceptical person as me can find it attractive.

The speed of time slows down again on last days of the course. I can't focus on meditation anymore as the only thing I think is - it's soon over! Soon I can go out of the yard, I can talk, I can meet Nicolas, I can finally ask the name of my roommate, oh,  I won't have to sit with crossed legs anymore! The tenth days is an adaptation period before leaving to the outside world.

Honey bike

Our last morning in Bundi we spent in the garden of our haveli, facing the artificial lake of Nawal sagar. But the most interesting view was in the opposite direction, in a corner against the neighbour's wall. An old bicycle stood against the wall, probably for a long time already, when we noticed something was definitly moving there.

Bees had totally invaded the wheels. Somehow the metallic structure of the wheels gives a perfect spot for the bees to install their little beehive. We stood quite amazed in front of the work of nature. Bees are incredible animals. The way they organize their society, the way they move within their territory, but also the way they build their beehives. Bees can adapt the architecture of it accordingly to what nature offer to them. And not only the nature... We were wondering also what will come out of this bike. Will there be honey in this bike? A honey bike, how cool is that!

Definitly, when we come back to Latvia and settle in the countryside, we've got to have bees...

Rajasthani gallery

Jodhpur

It's dawn. We just entered the market square by the south gate and are sitting by the central clocktower. The sun slowly rises and the massive fortress of Mehrangarh appears above. It is now time to walk into the blue maze and find a place where to sleep. We are tired and just arrived in Jodhpur, a blue city lying under a majestuous fort. This is the first place we saw in Rajasthan.

 

Our favorite street-food so far in India!

Jaisalmer
A train across the desert. We travelled from Bikaner with our friend Myriam, who volunteers with us. Of all India, Rajasthan is the state of postcards with its forts and palaces seemingly taken from the Thousand and one nights. Every single street's detail of the old fortified city could make one postcard. 

 

Here you can find everything with added marijuana (bhang) : bhang lassi, bhang chocolate, bhang masala chai... Governmentaly approved.

Pushkar
We finally escaped from Bikaner. Now sitting on the ghat, around the holy lake of Pushkar, we are watching a saddhu walking around with a bucket attached to his hair. While chanting, he makes it turn around his head. The sun is setting on Brahma's temple (one of the few that exists) and the other holy men are washing themselves in the water. Pushkar is a real oasis in the desert of Rajasthan. A small town that really feels small, despite its 400 temples. 

 

Cows, cows, cows.

Bundi
Rajasthan has to be seen from a rooftop, in any place you might be. Monkeys, blue houses, ancient palaces, and the picture is complete here in Bundi. Our friend Myriam was already here and we wanted to meet her again. And it was a great decision coming here! Streets are infested by monkeys and wild boars - mežcūkas bez meža - but people are really kind here and we feel good in this town outside of the usual touristic routes.

 

Tince and her "monkey stick" .

Tale of the Rat and the Camel

The New Year's begun, as we were leaving Varanasi. It's been almost a month now we are living in Rajasthan, in the desert. 2015 brings a lot of changes in our journey, in our destinations as well as in our ways of travelling. If we want to someday come back to Europe, we need to adapt our plans. This means : more volunteering (as we did last month in Darjeeling), to get accomodation in exchange of a few hours of work, and modifications in our route, as we realized less the countries, less the visas to pay. Bhutan was out of the list for a long time already, Myanmar would drive us out of budget, and even the rest of south-east Asia seems complicated now, as we want to take the trans-siberian railway later in the spring to come back home.

For the last three weeks we have been volunteering in a hotel in Bikaner, by the desert. Every morning I wake up around 5-5.30 to start the boiler, and feed it with wood continuously until 9 a.m.. No electric boiler here, so someone has to manage the fire every morning in order to provide hot shower for customers. It's a funny job. I like to work in early mornings, and finishing my work around 9.30, my whole days are free! We are not the only volunteers here. We share our work and our dorm with other volunteers from France and from Russia. Nice atmosphere and lot of fun!

In our free time we hang out in Bikaner. Bikaner is a town of Rajasthan, out of the traditionnal touristic routes. When we walk in the streets, people are usually surprised to see white people and like to chat with us. But English is not as well known here as in the rest of India, so conversations are sometimes limited. However when people know english, it's amazing how fast you can make friend with someone here. We met Praveen, a young and very nice student of Bikaneer, and he already invited us for diner with the whole family on our first week here. It was a surreal and magical moment. They were all very nice, and the cake so tasty. We still meet him very often and he shows us around Bikaner.

Bikaner is a real Indian city, with cows and rickshaws, temples and street food. The proximity of the desert add camels to the picture. Those big animals on spider legs are a common encounter in the streets. The absence of tourists make the city very "true" - sans chichi. Last weekend we spent in the desert. On camel we crossed dry lands of small spiky bushes and holes of sand mice. On the hottest hour we also crossed a desert village for our camels to drink. The village was made of small white houses with flat roofs. Children running around us on the sandy road with smily "how are you!". Later that day we reached our camp where we kept some rhum to face the cold night.

One the most "true Indian experience" we had here was definitly in the general hospital... A couple of days ago we went the hospital. We're both fine, but one of the volunteers had an accident on her way to Jaisalmer and we went to visit her there. The place was incredible. Like an Indian railway station with a hint of European war movies. We entered the dusty halls were the sick crowd was gathering. Pigeons were flying around old women in coma lying on medical beds in the middle of the corridor. Surgical rooms were less hygienic than a butchery in Europe. A nurse asked for backshish and rats were hiding in the bathrooms. The room where our friend was sleeping really recalled WWI movies. Busy nurses walking arround rows of narrow white metal beds in a big concrete hall. Inside the smell  gives you nausea more even than in the rest of the hospital. Tince almost fainted when she came along. This is India.

Today we saw rats in another place : the Karni Mata temple of Deshnok, about 30 km from Bikaner. This place was amazing. Inside the temple, hundreds of rats are running around, eating, playing, fighting, chilling... Because Karni Mata wanted to bring her young son back to life after his tragic death, she negociated the life of her child in a way that now on all the members of her family would be reincarnated into rats. Pilgrims bring them food and chill out with their family sitting in the middle of the animals. Either you are amused or disgusted, this temple is a very special place.

During our stay here, Tince took a lot of notes in her diary. Here are some quotes and pictures of Bikaner :

    Nav ne jausmas, kāds datums, Janvāra vidus, veļas diena
Tikai tagad, patiešām dzīvojot kopā ar indiešiem, sāku pa īstam apjēgt neskaitāmās kultūru atšķirības, gribas teikt, dīvainības. Es varētu rakstīt un rakstīt par to, kā viņi visi neatkarīgi no rocības un interesēm vēlas uzsākt savu biznesu (Pravinam vienalga, vērs vaļā skolas, viesnīcas vai varbūt slimnīcu); kā lai uzaicinātu meiteni apēst saldējumu vietējā kafejnīcā, viņu vispirms vēlams apprecēt; kā pilnīgs loģikas trūkums izpaužas visikdienišķākajās situācijās; kā ir pilnīgi pieņemami nostāties citam aiz muguras un blenzt pār plecu vai tukšā vilcienā apsēsties tieši blakus vienīgajam pasažierim; kā uz ielas garāmgājējs var pajautāt - Are you friends or... zīmīgs klusums... Jā, jā, mēs guļam kopā! Un tā tālāk, un tā joprojām. Tūrisma industrijas radītais reklāmas sauklis Incredible India! šeit iegūst pavisam citu nozīmi.

 Višnu templis, veidots Flinstonu stilistikā, drīzāk atgādina atrakciju parku nekā templi. 

    19.01.15.
Šorīt atgriezāmies no kamieļu safari. Sāp muskuļi un pašapziņa (par savu būšanu formā, haha). Jāt ar kamieli ir jautri, vislabāk ir sēdēt priekšā, no kurienes paveras labāks skats uz apkārtni un var novērot zvēra uzvedību. Aizmugurējais beņķis ir komfortablāks, taču nav kur pieturēties, līdz ar to zūd ilūzija par jebkādu kontroli pār savu kamieli.

    22.01.15.

Šodien piedzīvojām interesantu sarunu ar Pravinu. Par laulībām. Izrādās, Pravins zina, ka precēsies pēc aptuveni diviem vai trim gadiem, taču vēl nezina, ar ko! Jau tagad laiku pa laikam dažu ģimeņu tēvi apciemojot viņa māti, apskatot mājas un arī pašu Pravinu, lai izlemtu, izprecināt savu meitu šai ģimenei vai ne. Lēmumu, kura būs tā laimīgā, pieņems Pravina māte. Protams, meitene būs no hinduistu ģimenes un tas pašas kastas kā Pravins. Citādi laukos neesot iedomājams. Pilsētās, jā, tur precoties arī aiz mīlestības. Pravins jautā arī, kam mēs dodam priekšroku, laulībai aiz mīlestības vai aprēķina. Viņš grib zināt, kā tas nākas, ka es un Nicolas dzīvojam kopā, bet mūsu vecāki nekad nav tikušies. Indijā sieviete vienmēr pārvācas pie vīra pēc laulībām, savukārt vīrs visu mūžu dzīvo zem mātes jumta. Ģimenei jāturas kopā.  Ir savādi redzēt Pravinu stāstām, kā pie viņa precinieces jāj, mazliet smīnam, paskaidrojot, ka bija viņam reiz arī draudzene, bet to mātei labāk nezināt. Man savukārt nav skaidrs, kas notiek ar draudzeni, kad pienāk laiks laulāties ar citu, ģimenes izvēlētu kandidāti.    

    23.01.15.
Šodien pienāca ziņa, ka mūsu lidojums uz Taizemi ir atcelts. Savādi, jau otrais atceltais lidojums šogad, un jau atkal tas mūs nemaz nesatrauc! Drīzāk pat jūtamies priecīgi, jo jau kādu laiku domājām, vai tikai nesteidzamies par agru prom no Indijas, un uztraucāmies, ko līdz pavasarim sadarīsim Taizemē. Nu mūsu priekšā visi ceļi ir atkal vaļā, un briest jauni plāni.

    24.01.15.
Vakarnakt debesis rotāja horizontāls mēness sirpis. Kā mirdzošs Češīras kaķa smaids . Istabas biedrene Olga saka, ka ko tādu esot redzejusi agrāk, Taizemē.

Varanasi

Driving in a small rickshaw at high speed on the highway, slaloming between the huge orange sikh trucks, we are finally approaching the holy city of Vārānasī. This place should be one of the highlights of our Asian journey. Place of high spirituality and of dramatic water pollution, Varanasi is the place you have in head when you think of India, the place everyone wants to see, the place everyone should see perhaps, but a place that is not always easy to reach. It was with apprehension and excitement we did the trip to this place of extremes, and we arrived with fatigue as well. 

In the morning, the apprehension disappeared. Varanasi wasn't as scaring as we expected, in fact the place seemed to us somehow very peaceful. The atmosphere around the ghats, even when very busy, seem to hold on the time and give us a rest. Still the place remains an extreme concentration of Indian colors. The ghats step down in a chaos of irregular stairs to the river. The morning mist over the Ganga leaves slowly the place to the crowd. Boat drivers constantly come to offer their services. Men wash in the waters of the Ganges. Women dry clorful clothes on the dusty stairs. Children play with their kites while teenagers prefer cricket. Old saddhus meditate the whole day. Constantly corpses are burnt on immense piles of wood. Cows, goats, dogs, monkeys and other animals make Varanasi an open-air zoo. The city is so full of colors, action and everchanging details that makes it a perfect place to snap photos on every corner. We're joking, that after some time spent here one could open an exhibition of e.g. pictures of only cow shit.

 

 

The old bazaar is also a significant place, even if sometimes the city of Varanasi seem to be reduced at the ghats. The bazaar is articulated around the Temple of Vishnawath. We had a long walk bare-feet in the dirty streets to reach it, carrying offerings in a basket and making the queue with other pilgrims. But the place is highly protected by the army, and we had to walk the way backward to the market when we couldn't convince the soldiers of our hinduism... In the bazaar we found also am amazing lassi, in the Blue Lassi shop, where we could enjoy the creamy drink in a narrow room while outside corpses where carried under colorful cloth toward the nearby cremation ghat. Cremation in Varanasi was very different than cremation in Pashupatinath. If in the temple of Kathmandu we were immersed in the most intimate moment of one's life, in Varanasi cremation is just an element of the general picture. It seems normal and even the goats lay in the ashes.

 

In Varanasi the religious life never stops and temples come one after another. On our first morning in Varanasi we visited a few small temples. At the entrance of one of them, young men were selling bhang lassi, a lassi mixed with cannabis butter, a popular offering to Lord Shiva, allowed in Varanasi for this religious reason, but openly sold around by local smugglers. In front of another temple, we encountered a talkative saddhu who spent his morning teaching us mudras and mantras. We couldn't hold our laugh when learning one mudra of Ganesh wich looked pretty much like a raised middle finger...

 

It is true that in Varanasi some people are pushy when they see tourists. Beside the boat drivers who want to sell helicopter tours, some others sell drugs with a snaky voice "hassshisssh...", fake saddhus ask for money and weird men try to shake your hand to force you to a hand massage. Often a smily "No, thank you." is enough but sometimes you've got to be more imaginative. If one want to shake your hand, better join them in a traditionnal Namaste. Or like me, hide them in your sweater and explain that you were born with no hand.

 

Many people come to Varanasi to study Indian music. Varanasi is a center for Indian classical music. That's why, for this entry there will be no hidden songs (as in all of the entries of this blog), but you can listen here to one of India's most famous classical master. 

Indian trains

19 Ganeshs, 4 Toy trains, a dozen of Buddhas, several chinese cats waving their paws, numerous Indian gods, 1 Jesus on the cross and a portrait of Mother Theresa. The booking agency where we purchased our train tickets doesn't know the meaning of "too much". The agent is as his room, with huge rings at each fingers and an over-comforting speech. He promises us all the tickets to everywhere, as he "will not make a lady cry".

But travels in India can always keep some bad surprises on the way. And when you go by train, prepare for the worst. To reach Varanasi we need to take two trains. From NJP (Siliguri train station, downhill from Darjeeling) to Patna, we drive by night in a sleeper train. For this first train experience we decided to go for 1st class but somehow we got in second class, which was as nice but less private. In the evening we are joined by an old Indian man looking like a wizard with his two colored beard. His "collegue" (but apparently his servant/bodyguard) follows him with his gorilla's shoulders and his unexpressive face. We share dinner and stories, before sleeping.

We reached Patna in the early morning. We are already accustomed with the chaos of Indian train stations and decide to be patient and wait our train to appear on the screen. On the screen, the other trains show delays : some 20 minutes, some 3 hours, some 12 hours. After a while our train is announced with 14 hours delay! In the waiting room loudspeakers shout announcements in hindi and english continuously, while we have to accept that we'll probably spend the night in this place. But soon the voice announce our train is cancelled. The agent might have been right about ladies crying and so was the time for the gent to move some tables and get things right...

I went first to the office of the station manager, who sent me to another office, which sent me back to the first one, where I was sent again to the second. I happen by accident to smash a door while opening, so I decided to keep the following talk at the same level and started shouting at the manager until he followed me to the other office. I continued argueing until the director of the station came to ask what is going on here. In the end I got refunded and we got 100 ruppies tickets with which we could take any train we want from Patna to Varanasi.

We jumped aboard the first train, doors open. Other passengers were helpful, even if some didn't quite understand why we couldn't speak hindi. The real India was in this train. From the banch in front of us, as well as from the shelf for luggages where some men were sleeping, faces were looking at us, with teeth used by the chewing tobacco. A cockroach crawls on the ground where men took of their shoes. Young men comes in at every stations to sell chai and snacks. After few hours in the smell of chickpeas, toilet and tobacco, we reached the holy city...

Greetings

Priecīgus Ziemassvētkus, no Dardžīlingas tirgus!

Joyeux Noël, depuis le marché de Darjeeling!

Häid Jõule, Darjeeling turult!

Merry Christmas, from Darjeeling's market!