Towards Kushinagar

We got up at 4 a.m. the following morning and jumped in the bus. Bhanteji led several meditations until it became a suitable hour for breakfast. We stopped at a very plush cafe and ordered masala chais all the way around, and after offering food to the venerable bikkhu, we tore into the bags of noodles and veggies that the monastery had prepared for us as the roar from the road outside began to pick up. It is wonderful staying at these monasteries-- they delight in being able to provide assistance to true pilgrims walking in the Buddha's footsteps and following his path of mental purification. They expect nothing in return, though we would give dana for the room and board when we left. We continued on the road, with the front seat left to me, where I found a little too much enjoyment in the vast scenes of India and Indian life stretching before me, and before the lens of my digital camera. Bhanteji, sitting behind me, began to point out good shots for me to take. At one point I took the picture of a water buffalo blocking our progress on the road, and he turned to me incredulously and asked, "you don't have these animals where you come from?" "Not really," I said, "and they certainly don't hold traffic up if we do." Here is one photo he wanted me to take of all the people sitting on the top of the bus:

And here's a photo of the typical kinds of towns we'd pass through...

We made a couple of stops in the old town of Vaishali, and visited places that even local transport no longer goes to. Five years after the Enlightenment in Bodh Gaya, Buddha came here, the capital of one the first republican states in the Ganga. It is bound by the hills of Nepal on the north and the river Gandak on the west.

The Lichchavi nobility came to receive the Enlightened One with a cavalcade of elephants and chariots bedecked with gold. As he set foot on the soil of Vaishali, lightning and thunder followed by a heavy downpour purged the plague-infected city. The Buddha preached the Ratna Sutra to those assembled, and eighty-four thousand people embraced his teaching. Later, the Buddha's foster mother, Mahaprajapati Gautami, along with 500 Sakyan women made a pilgrimage by foot from Kapilavastu to Vaishali, seeking to join the Order.

Vaishali is also renowned as the place where the Buddha delivered his last sermon. Following a severe illness, he asked Ananda to assemble all the bhikkhus. He told the gathering that the Mahaparinirvana (final extinction) was imminent. He asked the monks to spread the Dhamma in order to bring about the good and happiness of many.

We first meditated at a spot where there were some Buddha relics, walking past beggars and Hindu "caretakers" trying to make money for arranging our shoes outside (which I couldn't leave anyway since mine would melt if left out in the sun-- which made for an interesting two weeks for me!) Again, once we started sitting, they gathered around us and watched us the entire duration, wide-eyed and jaws on the ground. As we did at many places, we began and ended the sitting by following Bhanteji around the circumference of the stupa, hands clasped and repeating some Pali after him. I then took off my hat and camera, and unpacked the meditation items from the bag I bought in Bohdgaya. This included a very small cushion (that was actually smaller than the area of buttocks), a mosquito net and shawl (used as padding for the legs during the day and as protection from cold and insects at dawn and dusk), an umbrella if the sun was out, and usually a water bottle supporting one leg. Every single item had a use, and most had two or three.

For lunch, we casually walked over to a Japanese owned building, the men and women told to wait in separate sitting rooms, and had some disgusting Indian Chaat Street Doritoes until the food arrived with just a few minutes to finish it. Later I found out that we had made plans to have food elsewhere but these fell through, and it looked like lunch would not take place today. Somehow, through many complicated details I did not understand, Mahindra our driver (see photo) investigated this place, and food was prepared for all of us just in time, with Mahindra also behind the kitchen helping. He understood and respected our noon deadline and was now caring for us-- the vibes were spreading. I remarked to Kedaar how so much on this trip seemed to come about like this... doors would open where none seemed to exist, providing all our necessities for us. He said it was rather usual given what we were doing. One time we came into a town where we had not been able to reserve any lodging whatsoever, and we were arriving at 10 pm. Bhanteji smiled and said, "Don't worry. Let us meditate. Leave it to Dhamma. Dhamma will take care of us." And practically speaking, it did at every turn.

Our next stop was at a former nunnery that also happened to have the oldest preserved Ashokan column still in its original place (think I got that right-- actually saw the gigantic three lions and Wheel of Dhamma in a Sarnath museum-- unbelievable!!!). We sat here for some time in the sun as all the beggar children stopped to peer at us for most of the time. Some of them stopped begging and sat down to watch us fascinated, while Bhanteji had to yell at one who would make noise and walk on the structures-- this also seemed to happen in many other sites. Also found a well and was assured by Kedaar and Bhanteji it was safe to drink from. Had some doubts but also felt up to now I hadn't any real illness in India, perhaps I might try... when traveling always a very hard line to find the difference between being safe enough and then too safe... so had a couple sips to test myself. We washed our feet and continued on our way... here are some photos of this trip, click here!

We made another stop for juice at a small town where we had to make a phone call regarding our night's accommodations, but only fruit was to be found. This proved to be one of the most unusual stops of the trip. As Gilad, Anita, Alastair, and Janet and I began to walk down the dirt street, we soon had a few men and boys stopped and staring at us. As the minutes passed, this number grew steadily, until we found ourselves in the middle of a circle with a few dozen people outside. Everyone now walking or biking past saw this and though they'd better also come over to watch the show. We even started dancing to the very loud Hindi music blaring from somewhere. Eventually we got back on the bus, and felt like the Beatles-- several dozen people on all sides staring into our windows... and off again.

We drove for some time until reaching Kushinagar. This was where the Buddha passed away, the final "Parinibbana". We got another whiff of the death of his teachings in India as well. We wanted to stay at the Thai monastery, and they also wanted us to stay. But the local businesses had complained that they were taking visitors away from their establishments and were preparing to sue. For this reasons, legally, they didn't feel comfortable accepting us. We felt we were pilgrims, and had been staying at monasteries and Vipassana centers the entire trip, and the vibe at a hotel would be a severe change-- it was all about this, and money was insignificant. No matter. We drove around to Tibetan, Korean, and other monasteries, but no luck. We finally settled at a hotel as about 10 p.m. approached, which most of us later agreed was the most unpleasant and crummy hotel we had ever stayed at. A release valve must have been struck, as most of the males spent a fair amount of time engaged in a lengthy argument demanding that we pay half the costs for the room only. It was simply unprincipled to pay more, we said. Some sheets were burnt and torn, mosquitoes flew freely into the room, the beds almost broke upon touching them, there was no hot water, and during one shower I found hundreds of ants covering my towel. The next morning we paid half the costs and drove off, past the dozens of Indian men gathering outside and making a racket.

We woke before 4 a.m. and, the Kushinagar grounds being closed, meditated at the pagoda by the Burmese monastery. I kept falling asleep and wondered if I'd have been better off in bed. I asked Kedaar. "Even the fight you make is so important," he said, and it made sense. We had breakfast at the Thai monastery (they said they could feed us, even if they couldn't house our party), and it was one of the largest areas I'd seen yet. The architecture was in the elegant Thai style and there were many temples, meditation halls, bungalows, eating halls, and residences on site. It is ironic-- so many Indians have no understanding or concern for Buddha's teachings, but there is an incredible revival of Buddhism going on in Northern India. This started perhaps several hundred years ago when members of the British Raj began to discover these sites and decipher who the Buddha was and what he taught. So little was known (and the Hindu pundits purposely misled them because what had they to gain by revealing this man who taught self-purification-- all this meant to them was a loss of income by people coming themselves out of misery, rather than paying sums of money for elaborate rites, rituals, and sacrifices to take place) that many believed he had come from Ethiopia. A fantastic book that chronicles this is "The Search for the Buddha" by Charles Allen. Modern Buddhist studies actually rests on the hard work by these Westerners. And today, Westerners are also playing an enormous role, through Vipassana and other practices, to bring back these messages. On the other hand, non-Indian Asians, from Burma through Japan, have begun massive construction projects in all of the important holy sites. None of these existed as they did ten years ago, and mark my words, ten years from now the development is going to be stunning...

We then toured around the grounds of Kushinagar, paying homage, meditating, circambulating and chanting, leaving one place for another when a noisy group of Japanese or the infamous white Sri Lankans came, and I realized that everyone else is coming with their own cultural variances of Buddha-- our group was nearly alone in coming just to sit, to observe, to purify. Sometimes, I must say, in longing I looked at the other groups and thought about how much easier their yatra looked! One small room marked the spot where his Parinibbana actually took place, and a large Buddha statue from the 5th century showed him lying on his side. Bhanteji pointed out the face changed as you walked around it-- from one angle you saw suffering, from another joy, from the final, peace.

We went back to the Thai monastery for a delicious lunch, but I was starting to feel some fever pains of weakness in my body, so I couldn't properly appreciate the beautiful aesthetics of the low tables or the chanting of monks and nuns just as the noon hour struck. Janet and Alastair were also feeling a tad squeamish, so they stopped in the Thai's free clinic, waiting with the poor and elderly and babies, and after they got Western medicine, we were on our way.

I was happy to leave Kushinagar. Given that the hotel was unpleasant and I was starting to feel poorly, I also sensed the entire place felt of death and demise. I realized how much the spread of Dhamma seemed to be in the very air in Sarnath, and how his ultimate realization pervaded everything in Bohdgaya-- natural that this was, then, death. I looked forward to leave it though, this time at least, and find rebirth and growth in Lumbini, our next destination, where Gotama was born... here are some photos!

And some photos of the Thai dog and monastery...