The (Somewhat) Royal Road to Namobuddha

I am wired toward skepticism. Well, that might be too charitably phrased. I am a downright contrarian, a through and through naysayer. I like to disagree and argue and eschew any form of reverence. There aren't any sacred cows that I won't prod (hey, see what I did there? A particularly apt idiom for Nepal). But despite this flaw of mine, this tendency to look for faults and hold on to them, I couldn't find any reason not to love Namobuddha. The experience has remained at the forefront of my mind for weeks: the hike, the serenity, the vistas, the architecture, everything.     

Sutra streamers (motion as prayer) 

As Nepal operates on a six-day workweek, Saturdays are my lone day off to explore the surrounding area. I am privileged to live so close to so many holy sites for both Buddhists and Hindus during my Pre-Service Training (PST). A few Saturdays ago, I suggested to my host sister that we walk to Namobuddha. And so, after handwashing my laundry and devouring the morning daal bhaat, I changed into a kurta (a long, loose shirt; not my usual hiking attire but when in Rome...), packed a bag with water and some oranges, and off we went. 

The walk was along a winding, steep road, with motorcycle and truck horns blaring as they approached us. Our path took us through Tamang villages, where Sutra streamers waved overhead. Motion is important in Tibetan Buddhism: with each flap in the wind, the prayer written on the Sutra flag is sent heavenward. I also encountered prayer wheels along the way. As I walked past, I turned the wheel clockwise with my right hand, again sending the prayer heavenward. The air became more refreshing as we climbed higher and higher, and we were afforded great views of the Himalayas. It was quite a journey to reach Namobuddha, but it was completely worth the physical exertion for a respite from the dust and dirt below. 

The legend of Namobuddha is fascinating and I've linked the full story here. The gist is this: A prince went on a picnic in the country with his family and their court. This prince and his older brothers ventured out on a hunt, coming across a weak and hungry tigress and her five cubs. The prince, in a great act of compassion, offered himself to the tigress so that she and her cubs could eat. His parents were distraught when they learned of his sacrifice; hearing this, the prince descended and spoke to his parents, saying, "Please do not be unhappy. The end of birth is disintegration, and the end of gathering is separation. No one can transcend this, for it is the nature of things." His parents were comforted. They built a stupa (a mound-like monument housing relics) over his burial place. The prince was later reborn as the Buddha, and thus Namobuddha became a pilgrimage site for Buddhists. In addition to the stupa, Namobuddha is home to a Tibetan Buddhist monastery, monks' quarters, a temple, and many small shrines. 

Stupa housing the bones of the prince

Gold roofed monastery with the Himalayas faintly visible in the background

The prince at his moment of sacrifice

Entrance to Kali Temple

Another Saturday, two fellow trainees and I traveled to the town of  Dhulikhel, known for its Newari wood carvings, well-preserved old town, and views of the Himalayas (shout out to Alyssa and her superb guidebook!). We climbed a thousand steps (hajar sidhi) to reach the Kali temple, with its panoramic views. Along the way, we passed both Buddhist and Hindu shrines, which is not unusual in Nepal.

I was surprised to learn that many Nepalis consider themselves both Buddhists and Hindus—especially in the Newar communities around Kathmandu—and that the line between these two religions is not always discrete. I had previously thought I was well-informed about Buddhism (admittedly, this knowledge came from the hippie movement and Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha) and Hinduism, but I can now confidently say I know very little. 

Western Buddhism, as I perceive it (and I hesitate to make the distinction between East and West, but this shorthand is practical), is more of a philosophy than religion, abandoning ritual and the supernatural and embracing method and theory. Regarding Hinduism, the main source of my confusion, I came to find out, is that it cannot be pinned down; the scripture is too vast, the practices too old and diverse. I think this quote from a book in our PST library, written by the Majupuria father-and-son team and entitled Religions in Nepal, nicely summarizes what I am discovering every day: "[Hinduism] has no dogma and no code and is utmost elastic. The greatness of Hinduism lies in its complexity and its simplicity” (pg. 46).

Shanti Ban Buddha

Although it was too overcast to see much when we reached the temple, I liked the mystique offered by the clouds—what lurked beyond the fog? The atmosphere below the temple was similar to a county fair: many families were celebrating, a man was selling rides on a pony, there were a few restaurants, carnival games, and a spot deemed the "selfie stone." I also had my first encounter with a saddhu—a holy man who has renounced material possessions and dedicates himself completely to spiritual life. He approached us while we were catching our breath after the trek up the hajar sidhi and urged us to follow him to his home behind the temple, which contained nothing more than a pallet for sleeping and a woodpile for cooking. 

I am conflicted: I admire anyone with the dedication to sacrifice comfort for some greater fulfillment, but this saddhu reminded me of the worst beggars I encountered in New York City. I think this is a moment that requires some reflection: was he actually being pushy, or do I have an innate suspicion and aversion to being approached in this way based on past experience? But this is what Peace Corps is all about: wading through unfamiliar cultural territory, examining our biases, and growing in intercultural competencies.  

That's it for this week, and I hope you have enjoyed my posts so far. I am more than halfway through PST and swearing-in is looming large on the horizon. This is a really exciting time, and I look forward to sharing it all with you! 

Old town street, Dhulikhel

Here I Yam! on the thousand steps to Kali Temple