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Sacred Respite
A stupa on the way up the mountain.A Colorful Beginning
We left Varanasi during Holi, the “Festival of Colors,” an fertility celebration glorifying the Hindu god Krishna. The festivities began the evening prior with huge bonfires on the street burning effigies of the demoness Holika. On the second day of Holi - the day that we left - the streets were lined with people of all ages throwing pink and blue paint on every passerby. No car, bicycle or pedestrian was safe from the colorful ammunition, so our driver strategically maneuvered us through a less crowded route to the train station from which our journey began.
Arduous Journey
Our 24-hour train to Guhwati was followed by a 10-hour overnight bus to Itanagard, the capital of the state of Arunachel. Arunachel is one of the last restricted areas in India so we had to pick up my entrance permit from the police station at the state’s border. Upon our arrival at 4 AM, the streets were empty except for a few machine gun-armed officers drinking chai in the chilly rain. The man bearing my permit was nowhere to be found and since our bus had to continue into the city, I was left there alone with
Our Tiny Helicopter
Hoping to avoid two days in a jeep, we attempted to cross the jungle by air. assurances that the permit would arrive eventually. I speak no Hindi, so the situation was somewhat disconcerting: a lone western woman and a number of non-English speaking, armed, Indian military officers. Several hours later, someone did arrive - a friend of a relative of the permit maker - who had somehow acquired my documents. Cold, wet, exhausted and still nauseous from the overnight bus, I made it to the hotel and joined my fellow travelers - Lama Tanzin, his son Kunga and Lama Sonam, a teacher who specializes in mask carving, astrology and traditional dance. We faced some obstacles initially - our taxi running out of gas with no open filling stations, my delayed permit, hotels with no vacancies, Lama Sonam needing to see a doctor - and me locking my luggage keys inside of my luggage on three different occasions. Lama Tanzin said that getting into Pemakö was always like this.
The rainy season was in full force in Arunachel, a dramatic contrast to the rising heat of Varanasi. It was cold, damp and dreary. Payingdem still seemed far off; we’d been traveling for five days and we still had at least three to go. Hoping to avoid
Preparing for Departure
Lama Sonam and Kunga, ready for takeoff. the two-day jeep ride through the jungle, we booked a flight for the next morning on the weekly helicopter to Tuting.
Although still raining, we managed to take off the next morning with a warning that we might not make it all the way to Tuting. Following the breathtaking course of the Brahmaputra River, our little helicopter capably maneuvered above the jungle to stops in the towns of Pasighat and Along. Beyond that, the windy rains grew more intense, knocking our tiny aircraft from side to side. I couldn’t see anything out a window in any direction - that’s how hard the rain was pouring. One of the pilots scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me: “Tuting - no go.”
The pilots turned us back and we again landed in Along. There, we hired a jeep and set out on the long road to Tuting that we'd been trying to avoid.
A Welcome Detour
For me, that drive was an unexpected delight. For two full days we ambled through the jungle on one-lane switchback. The Brahmaputra was constantly along our right side with waterfalls, grass-roofed huts, and the most incredible varieties
Holy River
The mysterious, curvaceous Brahmaputra. of jungle plants, trees and flowers lining the road. On the second day, Lama Tanzin pointed out a jackfruit tree, explaining that in the manuals about Pemakö dating back to the 9th century, one clue for finding the sacred place was the presence of a tree that bears fruit large enough to feed five people. That’s the jackfruit! Hearing this and seeing such extraordinary surroundings filled me with immense joy - enough to completely transform the effects of a stressful, dreary week of travel into excitement, awe and gratitude. After days of obstacles, we had fact made it into the Hidden Land.
Due to the heavy rains, we encountered two landslides on the way, delaying our travel by several hours each time. Still, I was overtaken by a spirit of adventure and I enjoyed every moment of passing time - watching the locals shoveling rock and debris from the road, enjoying the awesome beauty of the jungle, listening to the crashing waves of the holy Brahmaputra. That day, something inside me changed and I developed a certain fearlessness about the trip. Before that, I’d been like a fish out of water, relying upon the guidance of Lama Tanzin and
Hard Labor
Locals clearing the road after a major landslide. Kunga to navigate the unfamiliar world of Indian trains, buses, food and rickshaws. Suddenly, I felt peaceful and independent and I knew that I could have my own experience of Pemakö - taking in the nature and spiritual qualities of the sacred land in a way deeply personal.
We reached Tuting late on the second day and were greeted by beautiful, happy teens who had come down the mountain from Payingdem to greet us. I didn’t speak to them much - their shyness coupled with my apprehension about not speaking a Tibetan dialect they would understand meant that there were a lot of smiles passing between us and little more. Still, I was thrilled to meet them - many of them were faces I recognized from photos over the last six years. They were no longer children, but vibrant young adults.
The next day, we did last minute shopping and prepared for our two-day hike up the mountain. It was cold - far colder than I’d expected - so I scrambled around the tiny, rustic town of Tuting looking for hats, gloves, blankets, socks and foremost - rubber boots. That night I stayed alone in my little bedroom
Oldest of Three
A little girl caretakes her siblings while her parents clear the road. singing mantras and prayers, aligning my intentions with the blessings of Buddhas and spiritual lineage. Meditation in that place felt super-charged and I went to sleep with a heart full of devotion, contentment and courage.
On the Wings of Love
On the morning of our hike, I woke up at 4 AM filled with a strange sort of excitement. I felt strong, energetic and could not wait to set out on the trail. Having suffered some health setbacks in the previous year, I’d been worried about being well enough to climb the mountain but the strength I awoke with that day affirmed that everything would be all right. We set out around 7 AM, heading across the first major monkey bridge in a drizzly rain. Reaching the other shore was like passing through the first initiation; after that, I knew I could handle whatever the trip presented.
I wanted to soar up the mountain and so I took one of the students - a boy of 17 named Rinchen Zangpo - and he guided me up the trail. “I never saw a westerner walk as fast as you!” he said to me. I’d never seen myself walk
Total Beauty
Another spot on the Brahmaputra, near Tuting. as fast as I did that day, but I swear it was like having divine wings and I felt like I was being carried up to Payingdem. It may sound weird and pseudo-spiritual to say that, but it was obvious that a power outside of myself was supporting and guiding me. The path was thick, leech-filled mud with small brooks and streams to cross, narrow bridges made of single tree-trunks and two more bridges made of nothing but vines and bamboo. Rinchen wore plastic flip-flops, nonchalantly plucking leeches off of his bare feet as we walked. He turned out to have a decent command of English so we discussed all sorts of things and occasionally as a special treat, he sang a pop Hindi love songs at the top of his lungs for all the jungle to hear.
About three and a half hours into the climb, I decided that I wanted to reach Payingdem in one day instead of two. We reached a small canteen - a bamboo and grass hut where we could get snacks and drinks - and we stopped for lunch. Rinchen offered me the egg masala his Auntie had packed for him that morning,
Two Worlds Meeting
Lama Tanzin's aunt and I sharing turns on the prayer wheel and reciting Guru Mantra together. he himself opting to eat cookies and candy instead. Two attractive teen girls manned the canteen, cooking rice and lentils over an open fire. Rinchen clearly had a fondness for one of them, taking his time there and enjoying his seat next to her around the fire. When he could no longer delay our departure, he sprang to his feet and said, “Let’s move!”
The path up until that point had been a gradual incline with occasional slopes. What followed for the next four hours was a hike straight uphill with nothing but small rock footholds embedded in sticky, deep mud. At times, it was quiet treacherous - our path only hips’ width in size with a sharp drop off into the river immediately on our right-hand side. The constant drizzle kept the rocks slippery and there was nowhere to hold on to with our hands. Rinchen stayed closely behind me, ready to take my hand when I needed support, never losing sight of me for an instant. I felt totally safe with him, a young man of 17 who had already done this walk more than 100 times in his short life.
About 30 minutes from Payingdem,
Setting Off
The morning of the hike, students and I are ready to go. we were greeted by a handful of girls from the school. I was overjoyed to see them, but they seemed mostly stunned to see me - a sweaty, rain-soaked American woman who had run up the mountain ahead of the rest of the group. Girls in Payingdem are painfully shy, and they couldn’t say a single word to me. Some of the girls I met that day didn’t even look me in the face for a full week. I realized then that I would have to be very simple and gentle with them, so I toned-down my naturally effusive nature so we could get to know one-another slowly. My work with the girls was already cut out for me - how would I get them to open up, to engage, to trust me?
We reached the village at 4:15 that afternoon. My legs were like rubber bands, quivering and weak. Once I stopped walking, I could barely move! I was greeted warmly by Tapo, the English and Hindi teacher, Khenpo Gendun, the dharma teacher, Sangye, the Tibetan teacher and several of the older boy students who cooked me a warm, delicious meal of rice, lentils, vegetables and chilies. The
Monkey Bridge
The first of three vine and bamboo bridges on the hike, this one spans the raging Brahmaputra and takes a good 10 minutes to cross. girls who had joined me on the path sat quietly in the back of the room, eager to be included but too shy to interact. I sat on the floor next to the fire, allowing my soaked, muddy clothes to dry and the teachers and I all chatted and drank local varieties of barley beer.
I was happy to have come alone with such a simple welcome and without the pomp of arriving with Lama Tanzin and the big group. It was a perfect beginning.
(The Pemakö stories will take place over several entries, so stay tuned. BE SURE TO SCROLL DOWN TO SEE MORE PHOTOS BELOW!)
For more information about the work we are doing in Pemakö and throughout the Himalayas, please visit Vision Builders.
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Dadul
non-member comment
keep up the good work,
i'm so happy to know good work that you're doing and see pictures from my home town (Pyingdem) funny... i can't recognize none of the childrent in picture but i'm sure if i see theirs parent they'll be familiar to me, still so happy see them all. i'm so thankful to you and want to say keep up the good work.