Thursday, July 7, 2011

A Disfunctional Diary of India - Kibber to Kie Gompa to Kaza: DAY 30


A frustrating beginning to the day prevented us from making it to Kie Gompa on time for morning 'Puja' – meditation, prayers and offerings to the Gods (and free porridge). It was an easy 7km from Kibber, and we were up n' ready to go with time for Chai. But when we went to fire up the dusty bitches, I found a small stick jammed into the ignition key slot. The teen-dude-brat squad of the village had taken a liking to our bikes. We had noticed but never expected a dumb move like this.
When I was a real young turd, I stabbed holes in the dashboard of my Dad's new car for no reason but childish curiosity. Curiosity for what? I still don't know. It was the only time I can remember getting spanked. Finally, I can completely share that anger my Pop's felt. It took Jon and I just a shade under a bloody hour to fix the ignition and as we rode out of town I wanted to kick every boy we passed on general principal.
It was 9:00am when we arrived at Kie Gompa. The 'Puja' was over. I could smell the leftover porridge as we entered the monastery grounds. One of the monks greeted us and took us to a very old kitchen that felt more like a cave. There we were introduced to a monk named Tenzin. Every monk in the monastery is delegated different duties that they carry for a full year. The concept is to become as professional at your duties as possible in those 365 days. And when it's over, you take on a new duty and pass your last ones on to other monks. These are things like cooking, making trips to the village for supplies, painting, and serving as an English speaking spokesman to all visitors. Yeah, there aren't too many monasteries that have spokesmen but a place like Kie Gompa is in the monastery Hall of Fame. Tenzin was a tenacious monk who was as hyper-active as a monk can be. He had come to live in the monastery at the age of 8 and had been present for the last two visits from his holiness, The Dalai Lama. He took us up to the decorated room where his holiness stayed. There was so much art to look at, and so many questions to ask about Tibetan Buddhism. That's where Jon n' I first got interested in Thangka art. Tenzin was doing his best to explain the meaning of the Buddhamandala and TheWheel of Life, but he couldn't always get the words right. He kept writing his English blunders on a small pad of paper he kept at his side. Then, like classic Shakespear, our Indian friend Agee entered the room and I recognized him right off the bat- he was the guy who taught me the rules of Cricket, seven days back in Sarahan. He had made it to Kie Gompa by hitching a ride with the jeep-full of Americans we met the same night. Agee turned out to know even more about Tibetan monasteries than Cricket. The dude had done his homework, and was happy to act as a tour guide alongside Tenzin. We spent the rest of the morning in the monastery and learned a lot about reincarnation. I admired how strong Tenzin's faith was in the Buddhism. I'll probably never know that kind of faith, but I respect the hell out of it. Some carpe diem type cats from Goa had just set up a small restaurant and guest house near the Gompa, so we had a meal there and then Jon n' I took an hour to hike up to the top of rocky mountain that overlooked the entire region of Kie. We headed back to Kaza in the mid afternoon. It was a slow, peaceful ride because I had Agee on the back of my bike. He was coming to Kaza for the same reason as us; the next day was Buddha's birthday and there was a festival in town. It was sunny n' warm when we arrived and checked into our cheap guest house with no running water, but a spectacular view of the mountains. I walked over to Jamaicas to pick up our backpacks that we'd left with him. Jon took Golden McEnzie to the mechanics again. I forget what the problem was this time. It took quite a while to find Jamaica, but eventually he hooked us up with two bottles of home-made apple whiskey, which we took back to our room and sipped on while playing chess with the windows open. Neil Young provided the soundtrack and Agee showed up to teach us the strategy of proper “castling”. Jon won his second game against me before we went for a late dinner at Jamaica's restaurant. He was making chicken curry just for us. It was our first time eating meat in a month. I didn't miss it as much as I thought I would, but it was good.
We had a relaxing pow-wow with Jamaica, who brought a third bottle of apple whiskey. I think I liked him a lot because he reminded me of Flan- always either workin', drinkin' or eatin' (sometimes all at the same time). He talked about his big plans for the future of Spiti valley and I agreed to help him with a website he was working on (it's not very good at the moment). We also talked about the Rainbow people, with whom he'd hung out with for 2 days. I don't remember where or when I'd first heard of them, but I'm a bit intrigued. The apple whiskey tasted strong, but didn't last. So Jon and I stretched the night out, smoked some more charas and played two more games of chess. Tomorrow is the rubber match. 

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