TRAVELS w/P: Tales of Adventure Here & There

Five a.m. sure comes fast, especially when the alarm doesn't go off, you wake from a hot flash and find out you have 15 mins! Now sleep-sitting at the train station. So, here goes catch up:

SUNDAY NOV 7 - after sending off an early morning note via cyber cafe, returned to mohabodi temple. Snapped lots of pics. Found a quiet spot to sit under "the" bodhi tree. Two Tibetan nuns accepted request to bless mala picked up along the journey. Taking beads in hand they knelt at the north side of the bodhi tree where Buddha is believed to have attained enlightenment. They chanted and bowed and chanted for some 20 mins. When returning the mala, in broken English too muddled to follow, they tried to explain what they'd done. Something to do with three repetitions and light and ???... What I could understand was that the blessing was special, not a typical thing. Moved nearly to tears, big frog in throat, I offered a donation and a simple leaf that had fallen from the tree to my feet. They refused both, bowing and wishing me a "good life."

MON NOV 8 - last day in bodh gaya. A Sri Lankan contingent have moved into town for annual pilgrimmage to clothe and feed and provide other necessities to monks. Many robed monks are staying at our hotel, the Mahayana, which is owned by a local Tibetan monastery. Many of the front desk workers are former monks. It strikes me a bit odd to see monks wandering the streets here purchasing tourist trinkets and the likes. Oogling the sites and sounds and tastes like the rest of us.

Took a photo of soldiers spinning prayer wheels at the stupa site (but can't post). Military presence has become dramatically visible. BBC press vehicle moved into town two days ago. Seemingly elections are imminent and all transport in and out of this area will be restricted. Tension between Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists is cause for concern. We're leaving around 7:30 to catch a night train back to Delhi. A good time to "get outta town."

In afternoon we visited a school in a severely depressed area where a good number of the younger residents beg for a living. Parents didn't want them attending school, preferring the rupees they'd bring home over education. Over time this mindset is changing, thankfully, and in fact children are bringing home what they learn, taking on role of teacher to their parents.

Then took a drive to a remote village where women have organized to improve their lives, collectively. They offer small loans to one another, rather than turn to the streets as prostitutes or beggars. One told the story of borrowing 40 ruppes (about 10 cents) to purchase supplies for a wee vendor stall. It took three months to pay back the loan. Her stall has since grown in size and offerings, earning some 6,000 Rs. Another told the story of using her loan to buy a cow. She sells the milk and dung. Both reported their husbands were resistant at first, angry even. But once money started coming in.... To get to this village, we pulled up to the edge of a rice field. Walked along a worn footpath, snake slithering into the paddies, passing towering stands of bamboo, giant banyan trees and lots of gleeful children hopeful one of us would take their pic.

Before heading out to catch our train, I returned to the stupa one last time taking a seat on a bench overlooking the grounds. Tibetan faithful in the midst of 100,000 prostrations. The tree near where I sat was roosting place for a huge flock of loud nattering birds. Chanting in all directions. Muslim call to prayer sounding off in the dustance. An old Tibetan monk on the bench beside me, praying aloud with a deep gutteral voice. What a cacophony of exotic sound.

LATER: sitting on luggage at gritty Goya railway station waiting to catch a sleeper coach at 10:30. Been here a few hours now. Beggars are testing our compassion quotient. One, a man with no fingers. Chopped off for bad behaviour? Leprosy? Watching rats forage through the dust and filth. Bugs are hungry. Lots of bites on toes, ankles and legs. Fingers, palms and wrists. Regularly spraying deet but not sure of its efficacy. Armed police are mulling around. Yvonne and Norman made to move under less than friendly terms. Suppose it has something to do with the fact that we've plunked ourselves in front og police headquarters. Yeesh! These men in uniform are grossing me out. Hawking away. Pulling up phlegm from down deep and spitting as though a sport.
Train is 30 mins late...errr, make that 50 mins off schedule... Now 12:15 am. A coal train sits on the tracks where the Delhi-bound should be... Ahhh 12:45 am. Luggage chained, berth bed made up, train's a rock'n. Lights out. Good night.