Namaste everyone!

Long overdue from me, I am sorry. We arrived May 1st and started back in at the hospital. We brought a friend of ours from Los Angeles, a general contractor who volunteered one month time. He tackled the beginnings of the renovation project at the hospital, and it looks so much better, I will explain about hospital renovation in another blog hopefully.

Tom was doctoring away here when we got word that his 92 yr old mother fell at the beauty salon against a porceline sink and broke her sternum. The pain was unimaginable and Tom had to return to California to be with his dear mom, and to assist his family with medical decisions, and plan her care. We decided I should stay as we had begun the renovation and I needed to help with getting supplies and assisting to negotiate for prices here in India, plus my yoga classes here, and orienting our friend from LA to Dharamsala, (he had never been here before). The other factor is when I do have some time, often the electricity goes out for an hour or 4 or 5, enough to interfere with timing! Then I attended four sessions of His Holiness the Dalai Lama's teachings at his monastery here in Dharamsala. Felt like it was renewing, he is always so fresh and vital!

My husband Tom went to the Indian Consulate in San Francisco to see if the Indian government would permit him to re- enter India (India has a strange rule that once you leave India, you must wait 60 days before re-entry). Apparently it is a relatively new law for "anti -terrorism protection". Tom felt because he had a medical emergency, and because the hospital here needs doctors so badly, that he had a good shot at re-entry.

They said "no."

I am finishing up or actually getting a good head-start on the renovation project here; things move slowly in India.

"...As long as enthusiasm holds out, so will new opportunities."  

Norman Vincent Peale

Will be seeing you sometime hopefully in August. I will 'try my level best' to get some more blogs out~

Thank you for your patience with me

Gratefully yours,

catherine

Teaching Yoga on the Tuberculosis Ward              

Tibetan Delek Hospital                                                            

Dharamsala, India

There are all ages of yoga students on the TB ward: Some young women and men in their teens and early twenties, and some older students from 45 to 70 years of age. It is difficult to be isolated on the ward with very little space, and very few activities.

Isolation is just that - to keep infected people away from others, until the sputum count is low enough to be discharged and to continue treatment at home. They are willing to do anything that breaks the monotony. Since they have read and heard that yoga is helpful for dealing with illness, particularly respiratory illness, they approach it with a 'give it a go', or 'give it a whirl attitude' Very few have ever done yoga before.

Student named Shanti in savasanaThese patients have to wear a mask 24/7 which is tedious and hot, and often feels stifling to the breath. The type of mask, an "N-95", filters out 95% of airborne particles. Naturally while teaching, I must wear a mask as well, which poses challenges not only as far as breath, but in giving clear instructions.

One student or two will translate instructions from English to Tibetan for me. Although I can now say: "aug ya- leh" (inhale), and "aug ma tang"(exhale)!                                                      

Aside from being infected with mycobacterium tuberculosis, and the havoc it wreaks on the lungs, these students also suffer from anxiety, stress (tight muscles), insomnia, fatigue, weight loss and depression. All of these issues begin to improve slowly with on going yoga practice. As I explain: it is not a cure" but it will assist your body's ability to metabolize the medication more efficiently, and increase your stamina and sense of well being. This in turn contributes to your ability to fight the tuberculosis and finally to be released from isolation on the TB ward.

Skepticism seemed to disappear after the first two classes. Now when I arrive on the ward, the students immediately get their yoga mats ( I was able to obtain a large number of mats), and they ask to repeat certain asanas (postures). A favorite pose is a standing version of Paschimottanasana (a spine and leg stretch, opening the chest firstly). It is done with the porch rail for support. The porch looks out onto the street below. One leg up on the rail, as we inhale ("aug ya-leh") we raise our arms skyward; and then exhale ("aug ma tang") bringing the arms and hands down to the extended leg on the rail. This is a balance posture as well as an opener for the chest, which is so essential in the treatment of any lung disease. However, the fun part of this pose is when exhaling the students like to shout: "woo - hoo!" Folks on the street below look up, and then watch this 'yoga performance'...Savasana!

There is such liveliness within the group. Often, they say one hour is not enough. Bravo!

I am cautious about over exertion, because an immune system that is trying to deal with TB does not need to be exhausted. On the other hand I need to balance the class with enough movement to assist with stress and fatigue.

We practice limited amounts of what is called 'pranayama.' This is the process by which 'prana' (Hindi word) for life force, or breath (Qi or "chi" in Chinese), is controlled by regulation of external breath. Increasing lung capacity is a goal, along with releasing stress, and waste, (carbon dioxide) through the exhalation.

Ventilation is key also, and as the classes are taught on an open porch, it is certainly well ventilated, and provides an adequate space for the class. There are usually 7- 10 students in the class.

All of this has been well received! The patients report feeling better. Though I have not undertaken any type of organized study on the effects of yoga in treating tuberculosis, reportedly there have been some, with good outcomes. The students all feel resolved to continue a practice when they are discharged. I jokingly tell them that their yoga mat is their "magic carpet ride."

In summary, it has been a privilege for me to teach this class beginning last Fall/Winter, and continue again in May and June. I am humbled to the extreme by their gratitude.

In guiding the breath of these extraordinary Tibetans with their extraordinary lives, they have become 'my Guide'. They impress on me more than any other group of students that to "re-spire" (respirate), and to "in-spire" (bring in the spirit), has much more to do with LIVING than lung function. 

Their "spiritus" (spirit, or breath) carries me forward, and they will be with me until I "ex-pire." Latin = expirare = breathe one's last, die.

Thug je che - 

(Tibetan for "thank you")

They made me the poster girl for the TB mask!

Seen on the wall of primary school, Kanyara, India

Greetings, Namaste and Tashi Delek!

I apologize for not having blogged more "regularly", but nothing is "regular" about living in India. This is probably why I love her so much, and she is so frustrating all the same. Electricity cuts out regularly, and then comes on and off in the same day. This is why I can comment on Facebook, because the intervals provide little bits of time for commenting and posting, but not for e-mailing, and drafting letters or stories. Then, there is "energy conservation day". It is once a week, where the electricity is cut from 9am-5pm, HOWEVER, it is not on the same day each week! The post office which was operating in the dark (postal workers said "the government won't even supply us with candles") the day I asked about "energy conservation day" told me "get the Hindu Times it will give you the day each week". I asked whether I had to get this paper to find out, they nodded affirmatively. So.. the little refrigerator defrosts once a week, leaving water all over the kitchen floor (we find this when we return from a day at the hospital). I don't have a freezer, frozen foods are almost non-existent because most people don't even have a refrigerator, much less a freezer.

I have just recovered from dysentery; I had it for a week. The "culprit" was one unfortunate gulp of water I had at a roadside stand when I was going by taxi (6 hours) to Chandigarh. I was invited by two doctors who conduct free medical camps several times a year in an ashram in Rishikesh to help out with these busy clinics. Tom said he would "hold the fort" at the Delek Hospital.   

Doctors from Chandigarh & myself with Swami Chidanand Saraswati after free medical clinics at ashram in Rishikesh

The driver stopped for lunch, it was delicious, typical vegetarian Hindi fare: dal, rice & chapatis (yum, freshly made always). When the cook served me a glass of water I asked if it was bottled. He nodded that it was. I took a nice drink, and the taxi driver looked at me, and started shaking his head *no*...;then said "Catherine, I think you should throw that water out, I don't think bottled" he said in English with a Hindi accent. *Yikes*, I know what THAT means... (my brain began swirling with images of those tiny little  powerful, microscopic creatures) how do you get a gulp of water back...well you don't. Calmed myself down with 'hope for the best' thoughts, what else could I do? Gurgle, gurgle, bong, bong, clang, cymbals clashing in my gut, those bacteria in my intestines were having a blast :(  Tom is so fond of saying "they have survival instincts too." They took over and kept partying for days- I got weaker each day, but I thought I could ride it out. My doctor friends suggested I start the medicine, but I waited one more day, just "to see". You'd think I'd know better by now, that it is more difficult to get rid of them after they've reproduced like crazy...

So, those microbes didn't care if I was spent, they were diggin' my intestinal environment. Had to go on the warpath with them, a strong antibiotic combo that tastes like metal soaked in ammonia!! At least the Indian version tastes like this :()    Killed those amoebas (very common here) as well as giardia. Interesting in light of Buddhist philosophy, it's easy not to have compassion for them.... perhaps I will just be grateful they are gone, and think about the deeper layers of sentinence at another time! Hahahahaha.

It took a week to feel as though I'd kicked out most of the party-ers in my intestines. We see a fair amount of illness brought on by amoebas, in the liver, and lung (which are difficult to treat when they take over your body to that extent).

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Chanting with the nuns 6am; Kelsang, 21 year old nunTonight, I am at Dolma Ling Nunnery in my little quiet room. A young Buddhist nun called Kelsang Bhuti who was a patient in the hospital invited me to come down to the nunnery (this particular one is 30 minutes from Delek Hospital), and spend the night. I had tea with the nuns soon after I arrived, and then spent time meditating in the prayer hall. There are 210 nuns here. The youngest nuns are 13 years old, and some are elderly in their eighties. The nuns study English and in-depth study of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy (which could take lifetimes, at least from my "Western perspective"). They study the scripts going back 1300 years, and they remember so much! I am told their exams are unrelenting. Many of the nuns are from Tibet, others are from areas in India that are "Tibetan settlements", (like where I am living in Dharamsala). There are 35 Tibetan settlements in India.

Grounds of the nunnery in the shadow of the Dhauladhar Mountains. Highest peak:18,000 ft.The nunnery is situated on many acres in the shadow of the Dhauladar Range (outer Himalayas). I walked toward the mountains in this peaceful sanctuary, I saw rice fields terraced, upwards to nearly the base of the closest peak, having the effect of green life (a sort of "here I am for you"), cascading down from the mountains.  A monastery of Buddhist monks is close by, and I could hear their chanting in the distance. When visiting a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery, there is minimal talking. Meditation is a way of life. Silence is there for you, and being in India with such a tremendous population, silence is a gift, and cherished! There is a guest house for a visitor or two, and that's where I am staying. It has a hot plate stove, and a few kitchen items and a bathroom. So, one can have an extended stay for days or months if desired. It costs $10.00 per night.

Tibetan door hanging made by the nuns.The Tibetan Prayer Project was established here in 1987. One goal of the nunnery is to be self sufficient and self sustaining. They make beautiful Tibetan door hangings, (see photo), beautiful rosewood mala beads, painted cards, place mats, and napkins. I saw a box of several hundred beautiful rosewood mala beads that were bound for sale in a shop in New York City. 

 Monks and nuns have always been very important for the spiritual atmosphere that influences (shapes) Tibetans. Tibet as many of you know was a pacifist nation, they lived for the promotion of peace in the world. They feel it is the "duty" of human beings to give your life, for the greater good. One of their teachings of compassion is to "exchange your heart with another."

At the Delek hospital at least 30% of the patients are monks and nuns. It really makes the atmosphere at the hospital serene and calm. All staff and other patients seem positively influenced by their presence. Nuns and monks are always visiting either other religious (nuns or monks) or other friends of theirs in the hospital. Then, they make sure to include sick people who are Hindi, because Tibetans are very aware of being "guests" in India, and they are ALWAYS gracious about acknowledging this. Sometimes I feel as though I am in a monastery instead of a hospital! If someone dies, the monks will sit outside the room of the dead person/body, and chant for 48 hours. Beautiful a capella Tibetan chanting reverberating in the hallways. It is so uplifting and so ethereal. A live "concert", so to speak, and we are greeted by the sound on entering the hospital. Their studies are rigorous naturally (similar to the nuns).

Monks debating at Namgyal Monastery, residence of the Dalai LamaEnglish is taught  along with knowledge of Western thought, and philosophy, and of course Tibetan Buddhist philosophy. Meditation is at the core of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy. Debating is an essential part of learning the concepts learned in class (see photo from HH monastery), and it has become de rigueur for the nuns as well.  It is choreographed in a formal traditional manner. The standing "questioner" (a more experienced debater) poses a statement and claps his hands, the defender (usually a novice) sitting, needs to defend himself with a logical answer Then the questioner tries to undermine the logic of the defender, or comes up with a new argument, (why didn't my mom understand that I was merely debating "the concepts learned" when I was a teen?) Ha!

Fleeing to Dharamsala in 1959 has had innumerable effects on ALL Tibetans (including monks and nuns). I will only touch on a few. 

They have been in India for 52 years, many of them are fluent in Hindi as well. Most of them know Nepalese, and many know Chinese because of the establishment of Chinese rule in Tibet. The young Tibetans in Tibet today are forbidden to speak Tibetan in public. It is kept alive in the home. We see many new immigrants who have fled to Nepal (a 29 day walk/climb from Tibet), stayed in Nepal months or years and then made their way to their "temporary homeland" (with the thought that they WILL return to Tibet someday), and they just have to hang on until it happens) _ Dharamsala.  After the 1959 Uprising in Tibet, the then Indian Prime Minister Jawaharial Nehru gave the Dalai Lama and the government officials of Tibet refuge in Dharamsala, a former hill station during the British "Raj" in northwest India. The official name of the Tibetan-Government-in-Exile in Dharamsala is: "Gangchen- Kyishong" which is translated "happy valley of snow" (an affectionate reference to Lhasa, Tibet). "Gangchen-Kyishong" is also referred to as "little Lhasa".

Nawang, a Buddhist nun who left Tibet with the Dalai Lama in 1959.There are several nunneries in the region around "little Lhasa". The largest is Gaden Choeling Nunnery with over 300 nuns with new buildings being erected presently to accommodate over 100 more.  It is now considered the oldest Tibetan Buddhist nunnery in the world because they were all destroyed in Tibet. This nunnery where I am staying as I said earlier, has 210 nuns. Approximately 500 nuns in this area alone.  Many nuns in Tibet are political prisoners along with monks. It is estimated that 80% of the political prisoners in Tibet are monks and nuns.

The larger Tibetan settlements are now in southern India, primarily in the state of Karnataka. 50,000 Tibetans now work and live in this region. Dharamsala was not large enough to accommodate all of the fleeing refugees, so Nehru invited them to settle in the south as well. Many of the nuns grew up in Karnataka, and came to Dharamsala to become nuns. They all have strong ties to Tibet needless to say. The nuns I spoke with said they hope to change the spiritual energy of the world by example. Some going so far as to say they won't be impacting global warming with more people (by not having children), and one said: (they were in a group) "it's coming to a time that we can't be selfish anymore, we as humans have to learn to respect Mother Earth."  She went on to say  "all of us are part of this paradise why can't we see it, and act like it?".  They said they are very aware of the Himalayan glaciers disappearing, and aware that they (the nuns and monks) don't have cars, or central heat, or hot water, (I didn't mention my swimming pool).  These are amazing, giving intelligent human beings who are "giving it up" so to speak, to help the rest of us find our way spiritually on this Earth, and they feel most humans have "forgotten" (was their term).They said all of their parents and relatives are supportive of their decision to live spiritually oriented lives.

Elaborate paintings in Prayer Hall. Dolma Ling Buddhist Nunnery, Sidhpur, Kangra, IndiaThough many Tibetans live in the southern part of India, they all love coming to Dharamsala, a compound of "dharam and shala" meaning: (loosely translated) "spiritual dwelling". However, older and more literal translation for "dharam or dharm is: "something established, or firm"; "shala" (from ancient sanskrit): "sacred space or refuge"

In Hindi common usage of this word traditionally dharamshalas (pilgrims' rest houses) was the term used. When the place now called "Dharamshala" (Tibetan spelling without the "h" in "shala") was created, there was already one such "pilgrims' rest house" existing on the site, thereby giving the name: "Dharamshala" (Indian spelling). How prophetic that this would become the "resting place/home" of the 14th Dalai Lama and the Tibetans -in -Exile!

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This is the reason we see so many patients from south India.  Mosquitoes are a real problem in southern India, therefore the medical work-ups for people coming from there include screening for malaria and dengue fever, whereas in Dharamsala there are no mosquitos (no large numbers). I've spoken about tuberculosis previously: it is a huge problem among Tibetans. It is an awful disease, that takes the lives of many Tibetans. Tibetans for the most part lived isolated at 12,000 feet (Lhasa is that high!).

Prayer hall entranceThey were not exposed to diseases; similar to native Americans who were not exposed to fatal diseases. It is thought that immunological (the immune response) system cannot really develop in "pure environment." Immunological response only comes about when there is pathogen that triggers immune response, and then develops resistance (over time). We know how the "naive" immune system of the Native American was NOT ready, not mature/developed enough to withstand the onslaught of European diseases, namely the virulent small pox. The majority of Native Americans succumbed to this disease. Whole tribes were decimated. Similarly, when Tibetans were/are exposed to tuberculosis among other illnesses there is no developed resistance. Tibetans have the second highest rate of TB in the world. It follows the highest TB rate, which is in in South Africa, complicated by the very high rate of HIV/AIDS. In the Tibetan population there is virtually no HIV/AIDS.

We have seen some tortured monks. One in particular is a favorite of everyone. Thuptan is his name. He was imprisoned for 23 years by the Chinese in Tibet. He is 85 years old today. He was beaten several times a week and given very little to eat or drink. He presently lives with other monks and people who are ex- political prisoners. He suffers from anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder and often he is unable to sleep for days and nights. He allows me to give him massage! It has been so amazing working with him, he really is learning to relax (some). He told me through an interpreter that if he had enough years left to work this pain and stress out of his body, he might be able to do that. However, he feels there is so much "stored" that he can't reach all of it. He saw his parents tortured and killed in front of him, and when he was in prison he heard that his siblings (seven in all) were eventually tortured and killed. When he was let out of prison, he escaped to Nepal and lived there for years before making his way "back home" to the Tibetan homeland in India--Dharamsala. He is kindness itself, and has an irrepressible joy that emanates. That is the common denominator with the Tibetan Buddhist monks and nuns, a joyfulness that they impart, no matter how ill they may be. They are non-judgemental and open and they pray for all of us to have happy, joyful lives. They wish humankind to love themselves. In fact the concept of people needing to work out parental rejection, the notion of being 'unwanted", the idea of not having " self love" is totally foreign to Tibetans. They say how can you not love yourself? One of the teachings in Buddhism is to love yourself enough, to have compassion for yourself, [from the Latin cum (with); patior (to suffer, to endure),so that you may in turn have this for others. Compassion is related to the English word patient (= one who suffers), also related to "compatible." Incredible stuff. The hospital environment is where staff and patients for the most part try to earnestly follow (to practice) what the Dalai Lama teaches, and who can argue with a person who when asked "what is your religion?", answered "my religion is kindness."Thuptan, Buddhist monk, political prisoner, beatened and tortured for 23 years

I have one month longer to be around these beings who give so much of their "spiritual practice", their joy, to the world, "away", knowing (their "faith" I guess you would call it) that by doing this practice, they are contributing to energy that is uplifting and positive and hopeful.  They are emphatically leaving the world a better place than they found it. I bow to them.

Humble pranams.

Chanting begins at 6am with the nuns in the prayer hall, I'd better get some sleep. 

"Om mani padme hum". For those reading this who may not be familiar with this chant, the rough translation is: "Om, and salutations to the Jewel of the mind that has reached the lotus of the heart."

Good night, sweet dreams

catherine

A sign on the roadway near Norbulingka Institute dedicated to the preservation of Tibetan language and cultural heritage at Sidhpur, India (near Dharamsala).

A philosophy they like to instill...

India is such a treat to absorb because you end up wondering how you are still alive. Wondering why you are alive at the end of the day is something to ponder. Wonderment is about the idea of seeing life anew. Keith Bellows, National Geographic says it well: "...I had been seeing the world in black and white and when brought face-to-face with India experienced everything re-rendered in brilliant Technicolor."

Illustrating this, I will tell a story: Riding in a taxi the other day to go to the marketplace (I usually walk, but I planned on buying some heavier stuff, like milk, detergent for clothes, and some drinking glasses, as well as groceries). First of all there is a shrine on every dashboard (is there a message here?) of every driver. These are much larger than any of the St. Christopher medals that used to be more prevalent in American cars and taxis (and even buses of yester year - at least in Los Angeles) while I was growing up. Shiva, Shakti, Ganesha, Hanuman, Ram, Raven, Citta,...you name them, they are all there represented in force on the dash, often with a ring of traditional marigolds around them. Lovely to look at actually. If not shrines to the gods, then there is Buddha in the Tibetan taxi driver's cars. More of them are Indian of course. Sometimes with incense burning to offer 'pujas" (rites and rituals) while we travel.

Just a few of the gods and godesses seen on the dshboardOften the taxi driver will chant, (which I like), sometimes it is the radio playing India's "Top 40" - some of it not so bad if the truth be told (sitar, and old world instruments with fab voices). Anyway, this young taxi driver decided to step on it and speed through part of the marketplace with NO margin of error, inches away from small children and women carrying infants, older feeble people with canes trying to cross, motorbikes with women in long tunics and skirts sitting 'side saddle' with a child on their laps. He was swerving around large tourist buses on a two lane highway, playing what I would call "chicken", hoping the guy 'head -on' would stop, or pull over or both. Cows, oh those lovely sacred cows, often decide to cross very slowly. Listening to the rhythm of movement, they seem to "know" when to cross. The driver dodged and grazed two of them and they were unfazed.

In the hope of slowing him down (he was chanting ), I said, "you are a good driver, but I am really not in a hurry." He replied, "no muhm, I am not a good driver, God is good." I said, "well yes, but you still need the skill to do a good job driving, and not get killed." He laughed and said chuckling "oh muhm, I have nothing to do with it, God is good, God is good!" Then I said to myself Jesus, God may be good, but I really wanna see Tom and Robert and Mike one more time. Finally I reached the market, paid him and got out of the taxi and he said,  “see muhm, God is good."  Om, Om, Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmm.................. I'm still alive, the geometrics of that ride incomprehensible, "riddles at every turn..." to borrow a phrase from Mark Twain about India.

Indian proverb~ You can never enter the same river twice.

The Indians are laid back and tolerant and hospitable. Therefore each day one gets to experience their amazing attitude towards life. I was in a quandary recently about whether to cover my gray hair or not. Here I am in the land of authenticity and acceptance: a perfect place to practice moving away from the "false self." I have had a mixture of color in my hair to sort- of "confuse the gray" as it were, for about ten years now (for some of you, if this is "TMI" and boring, I apologize).  The story will make a little more sense with a bit of detail. A little blonde, a little red, a little brown and then the salt and pepper "natural" color dispersed throughout. The gray was (is) growing out and I was developing a grayish cap over the rest of my usual mixture. Picture the crown of your head with a gray cap.  One of the nuns suggested I just shave it (that's what they do). For a day, I was getting impulses to try it :0. Then I realized there are no wigs here if it was a completely scary experience having my head shaved. If the nuns wore veils I'd give it a whirl, but alas no veils for these Buddhist nuns. After a month, I decided I would go talk to an Indian hairdresser.

The salon has one sink at the back with cold water only and four chairs. The male stylists and the women stylists all decided I needed to cover the gray. "No, gray hair isn't a good color, and besides you will look more sexy." How that is possible at age 59 I am not sure, but they assured me that they would "help keep your American look, and anyway, you look like Susan Sarandon." Now I KNEW the Indian charm and mythmaking was coming into play! Then they added "why you worried 'authentic' (as I had explained my "spiritual dilemma' about authenticity); you not authentic with gray, leave that for grandma!" I started laughing so hard, and then they added: "you can be gray in your next life madum, you can reincarnate as a gray-haired goddess if you choose."  It was hilarious, beyond funny actually. Enough character study, and material for at least a one-act (maybe two-acts) play. I decided to put off reincarnation, and let these folks with 'wisdom of the ancients' to have at it!LLetting all the cars figure out how to get around him... cuz that's the look the cow gives when the taxi honks. It is soo funny!

They said they had just what I needed and they told me "it will be perfect." “We will do the roots madum to cover your gray”, they said. Now about twenty people had gathered in this tiny shop with no doors off the main square. They were asking me about Los Angeles, and why Americans and Europeans are "too concerned with being authentic." I said I just wanted to feel India for myself, and that I respect their long civilization. They smiled and said "yes we are authentic, so sure, sure madum, you will find what you are looking for and we will help you." They are so respectful and earnest.

The mixed concoction was painted to my scalp with at least three people giving direction (a tad nerve-wracking and exhausting). I saw that it was looking yellow, about the color of saffron at first. I said "yellow?" They said "yes, blonde is yellow." I said, "well, I know kind of what you mean, but not really.”  "Don't worry, it will be beautiful, you will love it”, they said and then placed me under the hair dryer for about a half hour or a bit more. Across the room I was getting thumbs up signs from the stylists and spectators who were watching this unfold. It was most embarrassing, to say the least.

Finally the moment we were all waiting for (and in hindsight, I am sorry I did not have a camera at the time, but that was the furthest thing from my mind)...*drum roll*… my hair was completely yellow!  A cross between saffron and lemon, like the cartoon Blondie's (Dagwood’s wife) hair color! Yes yellow, and personally I thought I looked like I was jaundiced, as it gave my skin a sallow cast.

They LOVED it! "We love American yellow hair, we are too dark to do that. You have beautiful white skin, and you can wear that color in your hair. We wish we were able to do that, see you can do it, and it looks beautiful."

I felt a sense of panic, and now I was truly "getting it"...hell with authenticity, I can't leave here with yellow hair. My patients, many of them monks and nuns in the hospital, wouldn't recognize me.

Finally I said, "what do you have to cover this with?". They said they had to get their manager and that they only had dark brown "this is the only thing madum." They had to dry the yellow hair first, and they asked me to do it, since they loved my new hair color and they hated to see their work covered. They said, "why madum do you want the color of our hair?" They were all black haired Hindis in the shop. I said, "anything to cover this yellow." They called in the manager, a seasoned guy who had been trained in Delhi, who entered and said, "madum, I can fix anything and everything."

He had an experienced air about himself, confident and laid back. He said, "madum just lay your head back, no worries, and he began to chant "OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI, OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI , Madum, SHANTI....” In a lovely, clear alto (strong, albeit sexy) voice. "You need peace madum", he continued, "and so while the dark color is settling in, I will chant 'Om Shanti, Shanti Shanti’ with you.”

"Let us begin NOW madum". He chanted and I chanted with him, and if I stopped even for a second, he would come over to my ear and chant  "Om shanti shanti shanti! Madum, I am trying to bring you peace: you are authentic whatever your hair color is madum, I can see your heart madum, it is a good one madum, but you need peace. Peace madum, because it doesn't matter if your hair is yellow, or brown or gray." Then he got out a little string instrument (small-mandolin looking piece) which reminded me of a hair dresser I knew as a teen, who would pull out his saxophone as my hair was drying. Raj (the Indian stylist's name) strummed as he sang "om shanti, shanti shanti” and I sang along with him. My yellow was covered, I am now a brunette and I don't care anymore. My concern soon faded under Raj's "care." The Indians, they are peaceful, and tolerant and they love elevating the person. He said "we like to make everyone at peace, we are all human beings, and Catherine I can see that you are now peaceful. I have done my job".Covered yellow!

Left in wonderment.

"An ounce of practice is worth more than a ton of preaching." Mohandas Gandhi

PS The cost of the entire day and two color jobs at the "beauty salon" as it is called here was *drum roll* 300Rs (rupees) about $6.00 US dollars.

"In India I found a race of mortals living upon the Earth, but not adhering to it, inhabiting cities, but not being fixed to them, possessing everything, but possessed by nothing." Appollonius Tyaneus

Greetings friends, yogis…

It's been awhile, I know. India is like that: The dissolution of time. One can really reflect on "time" whilst living in India. Small, mindful, awareness producing activities really get incorporated, if not dominate, the day/time. "Time" being what "clocks measure."

Filling the bucket from a slow faucet to try to flush the toilet (or "dilutes it anyway" as Tom says - not a true "flush" as most of us might be used to). Lighting the propane burner, filling the kettle, and heating hot water. A little tea anyone?  All dishes are washed with cold water, and then carefully assembled in the sink and basin so that boiling water can be poured over each plate, cup, bowl and spoon. Amoebas, giardia, and other unwanted bacteria are killed by water that has been boiled for 3 min. The old conventional wisdom is that the locals are all used to these bugs - not so. A local monastery had an outbreak recently and all the monks were into the clinic/hospital to be seen and treated by "Dr. Tom". Tom has seen amoebic abscesses in the lung on x-ray and others seen by scan on the liver. No thanks.

The kettle is filled again. Boil more water. Mix with cold and poured into bucket for our 'bucket showers" (even Tom has decided that husbandcide may be permissible when it comes to matters of the toilette.) Imagine.

TIME gets lost in translation, literally!

Let's take yesterday (and even today, but that's another blog). For example, I was in the town of McLeod/Ganj buying vegetables and toilet paper and curd (yoghurt). My cell phone rang, and I heard an Indian man's voice trying to tell me something in Hindi. "Miss Catherine" was all I could understand. So, I grabbed an innocent Indian bystander and asked, "do you speak English?" He nodded in the affirmative and I handed him my phone. He spoke in Hindi to the caller and kept nodding and repeated "dolphin career center" He finished the conversation and said "you have a package in Dharamsala (about 3 miles from where I was) and it is near the State Bank of India ATM." He continued "at a place", shrugged his shoulders, and said "at dolphin career center."

I thanked him for translating, and he said "no problem muhm" (Indian accent and often shortened for madam). 

When I completed my shopping, I called a taxi over. I asked to be taken to the State Bank of India ATM in Dharamsala. I couldn't imagine why any package would be waiting for me at a career center (?) in India. The driver spoke mostly Hindi, but also spoke great broken English. He didn't know of a dolphin career center but knew the ATM (which I actually knew as well; in fact there are two in Dharamsala). We slowly drove past the first ATM searching for "dolphin career center", and the driver (whose name is Azay) kept saying "dolphin career center" to himself, as was I: we sounded like we were chanting, it was in such unison! No signs of this “dolphin career center” place anywhere.

We then drove to the other ATM, saying out loud to ourselves "dol -phin car-eer center". Nothing! Suddenly Azay stops the cab almost in the middle of the road (not unusual in India). All motorbikes, cars, trucks, buses, rickshaws passing are honking loudly and continuously. Azay says, "stay here" and takes off. I get the dirtiest looks from the disgruntled drivers of all the passing vehicles. A few Indian children beggars pounded on the window, begging for money and I rolled down my window and gave two little girls thirty rupees. Naturally more children started coming over to this cab stopped nearly in the middle of the road with a moat of vehicles gingerly maneuvering around and past the taxi cab. Yep, I just gave them all the change I had. They were so dear with their "Namaste" and a slight bow with each tiny bit of money received. Mostly they can be a source of true irritation. It takes awhile to get educated about "the system" and where it is best to direct young children. Often, giving them money perpetuates a manipulating/hustling mentality and then they don't learn how to be truthful or upfront about what they really need. Many Indians and Tibetans have explained this to me yet when I see their faces and hear their sweet-voiced pleas it is difficult not to give in.

After thirty minutes, Azay returned and said, "need to park the car." He skillfully found a spot just off the road and said, "follow me." The town is crowded and I was following Azay closely down stairs, into alleyways, through narrow dank hallways and then up on a rooftop with a small office. The little sign on the door says "Dot.-In Courier Center". Light bulbs go off in my head: "oh, ah, awe, ah-ha", I say to myself, a "courier, not career" service. The Indian accent made “courier” sound like “career”!!  Azay was speaking in Hindi to a young woman who said, "not here, it is at Dolphin". Dolphin, not Dot In. They do sound alike, don't they? OK, I won't get into why the two courier services in Dharamsala shouldn't rhyme with each other, but that's for their marketing people to take up!

"Okay we'll go find Dolphin", said Azay. We began our journey through town again. Up stairs, down stairs, many doorways, dank & odiferous hallways, climbed over a fence, through a yard with three lovely cows hanging out and lots of cow dung to hop scotch around, and finally to a little room with a lovely screen door (an old wooden hand made door painted in rainbow colors). I said, "is this Dolphin?" Turned out not to be. The woman inside the room was kind enough to call "Dolphin" on her cell phone (she didn't know where it was either). She told the manager at "Dolphin" to look out for us on the street so we could follow him to the office, and she described what we were wearing. Out on the street Azay and I saw a man waving his hands excitedly, Azay turned to me and said "follow him, I go back to car."

The same colorful trekking as before, just in a different direction and into the bowels of Dharamsala we went. Ten minutes later we arrived at a little office filled with mostly large and padded envelopes. No signage for "Dolphin", so I blurted out "Dolphin?" The man inside smiled very proudly and said (Indian accent) "Yes muhm, we are ‘Dolphin’.  We are Courier (sounds like ‘career’!) Center".

I said, "package for me?" He said "you Miss Catherine?" He then pointed to two boxes. They were addressed to Tom and myself at The Tibetan Delek Hospital and were from Tom's sister Christina Coolidge in Los Angeles. I asked, "is there a reason these couldn't be delivered to Delek Hospital?" He said "Madam, I only have a bicycle, all of the others (packages) are envelopes and yours are boxes so I cannot deliver. We are FedEx for this area." “Oh, so this is Fed Ex”, I said to myself. Now, I was beginning to see this wild goose chase: a FedEx office tucked away called Dolphin Courier. 

As that was fading, I focused on the boxes Chrissy so generously sent. I had told her about the need for sheets in the hospital, and she sent a slew of them!! How thoughtful (and expensive, FedEx, etc., I was thinking to myself). The man at Dolphin helped me carry these boxes to the taxi as it was parked a good distance away.

I will be very excited to present these to the nurses tomorrow. Chrissy's thoughtfulness will be literally on the beds at Delek. The sheets will say it all, why I couldn't get back to the hospital, why I was late for patients: It all works out....that's India.

Possessed by nothing.

Tashi Delek

catherine xo

Butter candles made by the nuns at the Dalai Lama's Temple to bring light into the hearts of people in the world.

Along the mountain road on the way to the temple.

October 1-4 2011

His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Tsuglagkhang Temple

Dharamsala, India

Namaste

Time is flying and I want to tell you about seeing and hearing the Dalai Lama teach. With our work schedules, Tom and I attended one of the teachings together, and I attended one other teaching, (two of the days we just weren't able to get away from the hospital).

First, in preparation, one presents passport, and 2 photos to the Tibetan Government in Exile officials before going to the teachings. Secondly, a card is issued with one of your photos, the other photo is kept with a short application form. The card reads on the back: "no cell phones, cameras, match box lighter and knife at the teaching venue".

The temple and the residence of His Holiness is about a mile from the hospital. A lovely uphill walk (all the way...) over the mountain. The Dhauladhar Mountains are filled with stately Doludars (Himalayan Cedars). The name is derived from the sanskrit "devadaru" which means "wood of the gods."

Not unlike a pilgrimage, the roads were full of people walking to the temple. Buddhist nuns and monks greeted with nods, smiles, and "tashi delek". Accents from all over the world could be heard: Tibetan, Israeli, French, Hindi, German, Spanish, American English, Japanese, Taiwanese, Russian, Dutch, British; excited and anticipatory chatter, with a sense of lightness in the air. Momos (Tibetan dumplings) were being made freshly and sold. Hot tea with steaming milk, noodles and vegetables, Indian donuts, fruits and vegetable sandwiches were just some of the goodies to be had. Transistor radios were rented for 50 rupees in order to tune in for translation (Chinese and English: Chinese because this was a special teaching requested by the Taiwanese. Most of the rest of us know more English than Tibetan)

The pavillion at the temple complex including the monastery

Most people bring cushions though there are some at the temple yet the majority of people sit on the ground (cement, tile and terrazzo). There are some chairs brought out by request as the Dalai Lama has a policy for people unable to sit on the ground... the monastery will absolutely accommodate them. I had attended some of his teachings in Los Angeles in 2000 at (of all places) the Los Angeles Sports Arena. The rows of seats were naturally used, and the Dalai Lama and monks sat on the floor stage per usual. It wasn't filled then, but that is a little before he became a "rock star." Here, we were all settling and sitting in the cloth covered pavilion that surrounds the teaching room at the temple with a large statue of Buddha among other great teachers in the tradition.

 All are welcome at the house of the Dalai Lama

When the Dalai Lama came up the stairs and walked into the temple (all glass doors into the teaching room open) and appeared on two large video screens outside for viewing, everyone stood up. He smiled very broadly and bowed to people along the way. He put his hand up in a soft reverent wave that emanated a joyful hello and acceptance. This acceptance made invisible vibrations across the bodies of every person and there was a hush. He indeed brought heightened awareness to the moment.

He began to speak (naturally in Tibetan) and simultaneous translation began on the transistor radios. He had warm greetings and mentioned that we were there to learn from the great masters. This particular teaching was to emphasize the teachings of Nagarjuna. It seems he was born in south of India 400 years after Buddha died (passed into nirvana).

The teachings are quite heavy and philosophical & beautiful. Some instantly beautiful and others take much time and reflection and research.

Here is one from October 1st that I felt had more clarity on first hearing, whereas others had to soak and be processed a bit more (These were written out in a book to follow along):

5. Just as a lamp, sitting in a vase

   Does not illuminate at all

While dwelling in the vase of the afflictions

The dharmadhatu is not seen.

6. From whichever of it's sides

   You punch some holes into the vase,

From just three various places then,

It's light rays will beam forth.

7. Once the vajra of samadhi

  Has completely smashed this vase,

  To the very limits of all space

  It will shine just everywhere.

After explaining and reviewing some of Nagaruna's teachings he began to speak about the damage caused by division and divisiveness in religion. He spoke about condensing the best of all religions and not hanging onto "negative impact." He used the terms "celebrating" and "re- living" the finest parts of any religions. He chose Christianity/Catholicism as an example. I personally found this more exacting and direct than other teachings I'd read or heard before. He said " the positive impact" of Christianity and Catholicisim in its purest forms have done most in the world for social justice over the ages. He said no other religion built the number of hospitals, schools, universities and orphanages as the Christians nor did any other have such a presence on the street. He added very emphatically that all the rest of us/religions need to do this! He said "does the Christian religion also have a negative impact?" Then he answered "of course it does, but the negative impact is not to be celebrated or copied."

Continuing, he said "Buddhists bring great philosophy and calm and acceptance, this is our positive impact. Does Buddhism have negative impact? Yes. It is the lack of action in the world where good works need to be done.  The Christian can learn calm and meditation and clear negative impact in this way. It takes time and perhaps lifetimes. The Buddhists can clear negative impact by being more active! These are illustrations of the need to investigate positive impacts of all philosophies and religions."

His voice, as some of you know is lovely. He is quite animated and has great high and low inflections in the voice (it would be difficult to be bored). He chanted prayers at the end that were for the intention of enabling us to become more compassionate and positive.

Then he blessed the tea.

During the teaching, mid way through, the monks carried very large kettles of steaming tea and hot milk and making their way through the crowds poured everyone a cup of tea. Many people brought their own glass or cup, but if not, the monks provided a paper cup. All one thousand of us had a "cuppa" with His Holiness ^.^

It was hospitable and perfect.

The morning teaching was from 9:30 to 11:30. The next teaching was scheduled at 1:30pm.

MORE hospitality: everyone who stayed on the grounds of the monastery waiting for the next teaching was served a bowl of dal with rice by the monks; enough for one thousand people sitting under the trees, just quiet, listening to the sound of birds and faint Tibetan conversation by the monks serving.

No words needed. *Smile*

Oh, and the all day teachings, and two cups of tea (served mid morning and mid afternoon), and lunch cost ten (10) rupees, that is, 25 cents.

Namaste

Catherine

Hi Yogis~

I wish any of you who wish to be in India were here with me now!! We arrived late Friday September 23rd after our adventurous six-hour taxi ride from Chandigarh. Monkeys and lush forests all around as we continued to climb the foothills of the Himalayas. Feels worlds away from our usual atmosphere, and that makes it all the more exhilarating. Driving along narrow passageways, in some cases barely enough room for one vehicle. Often when two cars meet, the drivers assess which one of them needs to go in reverse to back up far enough to find a place to pass. This can be a whole new asana in "letting go." At some places, the road was washed out from monsoon season (July to mid-September, give or take a bit more time...we've seen torrential rain). The road becomes a pile of boulders that the driver skillfully navigates (acro-yoga of another variety, placing the body in a machine :) ). Dharamsala has an annual rainfall of 120 inches and most of that is during monsoon. So it is damp currently, and sunny with humidity. November is reportedly very sunny moving into winter. It can get down to 32 and lower with the snows.

On the road to the monastery

The Tibetans are extremely hardy and earth conscious. For example there is no heating system at all in the hospital, or in our quarters on hospital grounds. The nurses tell me "we just wear gloves and hats and coats and blow into our hands a lot if it gets too cold." They pile blankets up on the patients, and the patients bring most of these from home. They have begun doing this at night already on the ward. The patients do not wear hospital gowns - they wear their own clothes. We have several monks and nuns in the hospital. One of our patients is a monk in his seventies who was a political prisoner of the Chinese in Tibet for twenty-one years. He was beaten daily and fed poorly. He made his escape to Nepal three years ago, and finally got to Dharamsala. (By the way the official spelling is: 'Dharamshala', the Tibetans however use the spelling "Dharamsala" and do not use the "sh" sound). He is suffering from PTSD, along with esophageal problems. He has the transcendent face, and patience like I've never seen before except HH the Dalai Lama.

Kittens sleeping on a backpack at the monastery of His Holiness the Dalai Lama

I've been involved with tuberculosis screening. We have a very knowledgeable Infectious Disease specialist from John Hopkins Medical Center in Baltimore, Maryland. She has organized screenings in the local Tibetan school (TCV) Tibetan Children's Village, and a school for Tibetan refugees and the new reception buildings for recently arrived refugees called Soga School (about forty minutes from Dharamsala). History is taken i.e. contact with anyone diagnosed, cough, night sweats, fever, previous history of TB and other criteria. Depending on the findings they are sent for chest x-ray and a sputum specimen. I have seen many x-rays of people with pulmonary tuberculosis. It is endemic here. Trying to treat those with it and isolate them in order to try to shrink the population of infected cases. Unfortunately many of them have been infected with a mutation of TB: MDR tuberculosis "Multi drug resistant" and the medication regime for that is expensive and rough on the patient. Dr. Kerry is relentless and is out all over India where there are Tibetan settlements. I am learning so much from her. She wrote a WHO (World Health Organization) grant, which is part of the funding to try to stamp out this awful disease. 

The hospital is such a caring community oriented place. Supplies are minimal. Tom and I will try to get some equipment for the hospital, and organize fund raising. One hot water bottle for the forty-five bed hospital. Outpatient clinic sees up to eighty patients a day. One small exam room people wait patiently to see the doctor. No gurney in the hospital (one of Tom's priorities is to get a gurney for the emergency room and some lighting). Patient drinking glasses are Aqua Fina plastic water bottles cut in half, (good recycling!). Disposable gloves are re-sterilized in the autoclave. No extra pillows for propping and comfort measures (a nursing "specialty" of mine). One pillow, if that, per patient. Naturally, with the rate of infection and dysentery, the priority is lab x-ray and a fairly good formulary in the pharmacy. India has a huge pharmaceutical industry (much of what we get in the US is manufactured in India). So the pharmaceuticals are available, and Indian prices are low (particularly when compared to the inflated * read bloated* costs in the US).

A sign in Dharamsala, walking into town

It is quite amazing here. I will relay some more colorful stories in the next blogs, but I wanted to give you an idea of what is happening here. The kindness and the patience and the graciousness of people here almost makes me want to cry. They have MUCH to teach us. I love learning how to love and live better.  I’m overwhelmed in the best sense of the word. I will describe attending the teachings of the Dalai Lama at his monastery here in the next blog. The delay with the blog has been mostly due to connection problems with Internet, but working today, yes!

These are young girls on a road crew. They are very strong and carry the boulders over to the men who are rebuilding the washed out road from underneath. Laughing at me cuz I ran into a patch of nettles!

Sending lots of vibes and Namaste from here west over the mountains, over the the Middle East  (we are relatively close to Afghanistan), and over the Arabian Sea, continuing west over Europe, and over the Atlantic to the eastern shore of the United States, and continuing west over the Midwest, over the amazing Rockies, over the beautiful desert and Southwest, to the Pacific Ocean to reach most of you ^.^ 

Tashi Delek!

catherine

It's been a ride since arriving in New Delhi from Ghangzhou, China last Wednesday night. It was a six hour flight, and since it is traveled heavily by Indians there were delicious vegetarian choices for the meal . One knows to be in India when straight ahead in the airport there is a beautiful life size sculpture - series "Surya Namaskar".

We went to a small Indian Hotel near the airport as we were scheduled to leave for Dharamsala the next day.

Thursday: waking up, it was a glorious morning with birds singing and the temp about 75 & humid (with a mild breeze). Fresh strawberry kefir and the best fresh darjeeling tea. Arrived back at New Delhi airport to find that our flight to Dharamsala had been cancelled two months ago. After much discussion, many phone calls (within the airline personnel),and calling Dr. Tseten at Delek Hospital (he was expecting us); we decided to fly to Chandigarh and take a six hour taxi from there.

Chandigarh, India named for an ancient temple called "Chandi Mandir" devoted to the Hindu goddess "Chandi." It turned out to be a "blessing in disguise" to go to Chandigarh first. It is the nearest large medical center to Dharamsala. Referrals for complicated medical and surgical conditions are made here from Tibetan Delek Hospital. We were met at the airport by Lobsang Dhondup, a former Tibetan monk who runs "Sangye- Menla" (Budda Medicine) House/Hostel/Hospice. It is very low cost for the family members of those patients referred to Chandigarh from Dharamsala, and in some cases for the patients themselves when they are discharged. He drove Tom and me there to tour the house. Naturally it is very simple and made as comfortable as possible with the extreme limited funds (mostly charity). It is a welcoming and nurturing abode, with children and dogs around to add to the liveliness. Lobsang took us to a hotel nearby. The security is extremely high presently because of terrorist bomb blasts: running mirrors under the cars/taxis searching for bombs and xraying all bags going into the hotel. All persons were wanded as well.

Friday morning Lobsang collected us early to tour the hospitals where we eventually will be referring some of our patients from Delek. The staff at both hospitals were so welcoming with "Namaste" at each meeting. Dr. Manveer gave us a tour of the hospital complete with gowning and gloving to see the OT "operating theatre", what we call OR (operating room). Also in the OB/GYN Dept. the obstetrical birthing table/bed is hot pink! Indians are not afraid of color :)  Then at each place they brought out tins of favorite and "best" biscuits with tea and steaming hot milk.

Our laptop screen was broken in transit, so Lobsang took us to a computer store where we purchased a monitor screen and keyboard to hook up to our computer. It was here that I saw a group of women in a sit down strike.  They are child care workers who were protesting the government of Punjab because they are paid nil and have no benefits. They asked me to join them and of course I did (photo at top). These women are determined to be heard!

We made arrangements for the taxi to Dharamsala. If any of you have been on Indian roads, you know it is like a daring, life defying, adventure ride at Six Flags. Many flowering bushes and eucalyptus trees along the way, as we got closer to Dharamsala there are beautiful pine trees and the monkeys all around. The monsoon season had partially wiped out roads, so the cabbie was extremely skillfull with the wheels going right to the edge of a cliff, and all that great spiritual karma coming into "play." INDIA JAI!

Stay tuned for our arrival in Dharamsala.

Love and Tashi Delek,

Catherine

PS This spider was in our room at the Delek Hospital when we arrived. What a greeting! We carefully moved this guy outside :)

Bao Junn, Michael, and myself

We are here for five days visiting our son who has been living and teaching English in Haikou, Hainan China for the last nine months. Previously he taught English for one year in Lin Yi (closer to Beijing).

Hainan is an island off the southern tip of China in the South China Sea. Eight million people live on the island, two million of them in Haikou (the biggest city on the island). It is lush, green, humid and tropical (it is monsoon season now).  Michael lives on the fourteenth floor of an apartment building with his girlfriend Bao Junn (see photo above). She works in real estate, and she is a hell of a good driver! There are no rules for the cars, buses, rickshaws and thousands of motorbikes (very often there are three people and a baby on one motorbike).  Many women ride motorbikes with high heels and others drive them with flip-flops. Nobody wears helmets, of course.

We will take a train ride to Sanya with Michael and Bao Junn later today and return tomorrow. We fly from China to India on Wednesday.

There is a yoga class nine pm at the hotel (across the street from where Michael lives). I will go to that class on Tuesday night.

Far away, yet close to you.

"Bye, Bye" (the slang here for "good bye")

catherine

The view from Michael's apartment.