Archive for April, 2009

Signs 3
I have never done well with heights: My nose bleeds in Taos, New Mexico a mere 9,000 feet. When Dr. Rotelli and I visited Kunzang Dechen Lingpa’s monastery in Arunachel Pradesh—after a day of winding through heights of green pine—my breathing came in involuntary pants and sighs all night. AMS, also known as altitude sickness, is often mild and usually comes on gradually. But it can occur unpredictably, suddenly and intensely. It is the reason why I have never gone to the dizzying heights of Tibet, at 12,000 feet above sea level. The problem is not just the lack of oxygen, but the pressure changes, as fluids leak out of compartments and fills lung and brain cavities. Confusion, lethargy and death can follow as water perfuses into that tight compartment. One of the side effects, or balancing acts of the body in order to equalize pressures, is ridding itself of water with frequent urination.

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Signs 1
The road trip began. We set out on our long journey from Thimpu to Tashi Yangtse, mounting the first heights overlooking Bhutan’s small capital city. Within a few twists and turns of the road, we were consumed by forest and mountain, wild rock and broad sky. As we rounded that first curve on a road that led steeply away from human habitation, a black Yak came into sudden view. It was unusual to see these wonderful creatures at this low elevation and so near the city. Yet as we rounded that bend, we saw all five black yaks and a central all-white one—facing towards us as we mounted the hill. No eating, not moving, just staring back at us, as our  truck bounced past them. Had we seen their rears, it would have been a different sign to us, but their welcome gaze cheered and delighted us. We knew that MaChik and the five-deity mandala of Troma would guide our path from here onwards.

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It had taken three years, a lot of disappointment and considerable stress to get here. But finally, it had all fallen into place. I could still use the ticket I bought last year, a mere day before it would expire, and Rinpoche and Pema had come through on the arduous visa process, in which I was an invited guest. This avoids having to pay $240 dollars per day as a regular tourist, something most dharma practitioners can’t afford. After three days in Kathmandu, I boarded the small aircraft and headed over the Himalayas. The short one-hour voyage was pleasant but uneventful, as clouds preventing us from seeing the majestic snow-covered ranges. We did see the mountains however, for Bhutan’s one small airport is nestled in a valley, and in order to land, the pilot has to deftly thread through the crags and peaks, to the horror of some tourists!

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