Motorcycles and bad luck

Current Location: Kathmandu, Nepal

Many of you will remember our trip to Greece in 2001 when we rented a moped and Joe returned home with a broken leg and a few pounds of extra metal. If you don't remember click here. Well our luck with motorbikes has struck again! This time we decided to take a trip out of Kathmandu towards the Tibetan border. The first few miles were a little stressful, but as soon as we got out of the city it was smooth sailing with beautiful scenery. We rented a Yamaha Enticer which lives up to its name. Its looks entice you to rent it, then when you drive it you realize it's just a fancy looking 125cc moped.

We headed to Durikel and enjoyed the day looking at ancient temples and a great view. It was too hazy to see the Himalayas but the terraced green valley below was beautiful. We decided to continue our trip towards Tibet to see the Bhote Kosi river. The scenery got even better and we made it all the way to the "Last Resort" which is home to the world's second highest bungi jump and is only 15 kms from Tibet. We chose just to walk over the huge suspension bridge without jumping off. The Last resort wanted too much for a nights stay so we headed back towards Kathmandu and found a place for 200 Nrps ($3) called the little Tibet Resort. It was right on the river and a very quiet and relaxing place to stay.

In the morning we headed out. We strapped our backpack carefully onto the back of the bike and took off. The roads are washed out in many places by landslides, so I had to maneuver my way over bumpy and rocky sections. We were both enjoying the trip and by this time I had gotten used to the bike so I was going a little faster. About 10 kms along the way, Sejal yelled STOP!!! Our backpack's zipper had come open and the contents were nowhere to be seen. We had lost a book, a shirt, and most importantly our CAMERA! In a panic we turned around to start searching. About 2 kms back we saw the shirt in the middle of the road. A local villager saw us looking and waved his hands. He had found our book and picked it up. He gladly returned it with a smile and we asked if he had seen our camera bag. He hadn't so we headed back down the road searching every inch. We found nothing!

Sejal continued searching on foot and I headed on the bike all the way back to our guesthouse. I then stopped by the police checkpoint. I caused quite the stir walking in as none of the police spoke English and seemed to be fighting over who would have to talk to me. Soon an "officer" came out causing everyone in fatigues to salute. He spoke English and I told him what happened. He handed me a blank sheet of paper and told me to fill out my "application". I wasn't sure what this meant so I wrote down my contact info and a short description of what happened. Knowing the police need a bit of a push, I promised to give 5000 Nrps ($77) to anyone who found our camera bag. I then headed back down the road at a snails pace. I stopped everyone I passed and with a mixture of Hindi and hand signals I explained what had happened. I was surprised at the immediate concern that all the villagers showed. They were so compassionate about our problem and so willing to help. We also made sure to point out that anyone who found it would get 5000 Nrps.

The search continued and we began to attract more and more attention. Strangers would come up to us and with a twist of the palm ask if we had found our bag. We attracted a search party of about 7 young men who hiked down the steep cliffs with me to search. The day was hot and we hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. Luckily Sejal found a shady hut near where we had found the book and shirt. I found her there surrounded by about 15 young Nepali women all chatting with her and suggesting ways to help. With the bike and one of my new helpers we headed back to town to check with the "book-lost guy". As soon as we arrived in town my bike was surrounded. Everyone wanted to know if I had found my camera...word travels fast in a small town. There was a lively funeral procession coming through town and people left their mourning to come and ask me if my camera had been found and to help. We checked every chat house and noodle stand and could not find the "book-lost guy" so we headed to the bus stand. There I was introduced to a old smiling man in the traditional Nepali Topi (hat). Apparently the police are of no help in finding lost articles (not a big surprise) so the town had given the responsibility to this man. He had not heard of anything so he told us to come back after noon.

As we were about to head out of town I was approached by a man who spoke perfect english and asked if I had found my camera. I was so relieved to talk to someone who could actually understand me. He was a trekking guide who spoke 5 languages and lived in the nearby mountains. He told me that he would help with the search and the three of us jumped back on my bike and headed out to the area we thought we lost the camera. We questioned the coolies carrying rocks up the steep cliff to be used in paving and stabilizing. They provided us our hottest lead by saying that a "paving man" (working on repaving the road by hand) wearing white pants stained with tar had been walking around the area at about 7 am. The rock carrying coolies had said hi to him and he had not returned their greeting. This was our hottest lead.

The trekking guide's name was Lila Lama, and he was so energetic and positive about helping us we both gained a little hope. He said that our best chance was to write up a flier and post it around the village. With his help we created a flier in Nepali and with the help of his brother we posted it everywhere. Now everytime I rode the bike into town, there was an immediate crowd around me of 15-20 people all asking if we had found anything. Many of these people do not own a camera and some may have never even used one. It's safe to say that none of them had ever owned a digital SLR, yet they showed unyielding concern. They could have easily just passed us off as rich spoiled foreigners, but instead they padded us on the back in consolation and dropped everything just to help.

When daylight was nearly gone and we had been searching straight for 12 hours, Lila Lama and one of his friends invited us to tea. He began to tell me that he understood what a great loss the camera and our pictures were. He explained that all things are temporary and attachment only leads to suffering. Of course these teachings were very familiar to me so I mentioned that Sejal and I had just finished a Vipassana course. He told me that he had taken two courses before and we both laughed at the fate that had brought us together. He promised to meet me the next morning to help put an ad in the paper. He also promised to continually look locally for our camera and send it to us if it is found.

The next morning we met with Lila Lama and got some more fliers made. We toured the whole countryside stopping to talk to everyone we saw. Everytime we got the same response, compassion and a neverending willingness to help. All in all we headed out over 90 fliers. By this time we had both accepted that the camera was gone. Although it is a great loss, our hearts cannot be saddened due to the wonderful experience of meeting so many loving and compassionate people.

Vipassana

Current Location: Pokhara, NEPAL

Yes, we survived it, and I am so proud of myself. Coming into the course, I was a bit nervous. My mom told me that they don't let anyone drive to the meditation center because they don't want people to drive away after the second day. The day before the start of the course, I was thinking of copping out. But I knew that it wouldn't hurt me...it could only help me. And I am so happy that I decided to stick with it. Joe did a great job explaining the principles of Vipassana in his blog entry. It is a wonderful technique that makes so much sense when you learn about it. You soon come to realize that we are externally motivated creatures. We are constantly faced with our everyday lives--work, school, stress, kids. We are reacting and doing, reacting and doing. All our inputs that we learn from and react to come from the outside. But when was the last time that you sat quietly and looked inside yourself? This is what I told myself before I started the course. I don't think hardly any human being in this world gets the opportunity to spend 10-days with just themselves and being inside themselves. It's such an amazing experience!

For me, I quickly came to realize that I had a lot to learn. All my life, I have never been alone. As a child, I lived with my family and then when I became an adult, I lived with roommates. I felt lonesome if my roommates were away, and would quickly consume my mind with busy work like cleaning the house or doing school work. Whenever, I had any problems or issues, I always had an outlet whether it be my family, my husband, or my friends. This was an opportunity to do something that I had always avoided. Being by myself, discovering myself, and being at peace with myself.

Vipassana isn't easy. After Day 1, I felt like an 80-year old woman, limping after sitting for a 4-hour meditation session. I have never had back issues before, but now I know what it's like to have back pain. And my knees were in continuous distress from sitting hour after hour cross-legged. At night I would go to sleep with nothing in my stomach but hunger pains and empty rumbling.

But the physical pain wasn't the most difficult part. The hardest part was the mental pain. Initially, I realized that I lack concentration and patience. My mind is what Goenka-gi would call a wild elephant. Running around like a mad animal. It needs a whip or a cage to contain it! I feel sorry for anyone who has to be inside my head! But after day 3, I learned to capture this wild animal and contain it. Then the deep incision started. Goenka-gii compares Vipassana meditation to a surgical procedure. You are making an incision to allow all the infectious material to leak out. Similarly, in meditation, you are doing a deep surgical procedure on your mind. You are discovering the reality of the mind. You are then forced to face these realities and conquer them. This wasn't easy at all. The 10-days was an emotional roller coaster ride. One day I would be elated and smiling from ear to ear, and another day I would be crying wishing that the course would be over. But I soon realized that I am the master of my mind. My mind is the one that creates these realities for me. I have control over my own reality. Just as the saying goes, "Is the glass half full or half empty?" It's up to me how I view things.

These 10-days was a time for serious self-discovery. I learned that I lack patience for myself. I beat myself up over my failures and don't give myself credit for my successes. Each failure is an opportunity to learn. I have the power to console and heal my own wounds. The most important aspect to any encounter is a calm and relaxed mind.

By the end of the 10-days, it was as much of a shock entering the real world as it was entering the rigorous course. My real test was a bus ride that we had to Mussorie. I found I was very sensitive to the usual shouting, touching, pushing and shoving that goes on in Indian buses. But I was able to detect these sensations of stress and extinguish them.

Joe and I are hoping to continue our meditation with an hour at morning and nighttime. It's a energizing way to begin a day and a relaxing way to end the day. Similar to seeing the sunrise and sunset each day. I feel calm and relaxed mentally and physically after each sitting. The best part is that after each meditation, we do what is called Mehta which is extending our happiness to those we love. It's my opportunity to share it with you and wish you all happiness. Be happy. मंगल हैं !