The night before the trip to Lumbini, the monk informed me that we were to catch a ride very early the next morning. One of the nuns had gone to Pokhara on social service and the other nun was too ill to travel, so the monk made the necessary calls and reserved two seats for us. My bags were repacked for the next journey of three days. By re-packing, I meant leaving behind all the gifts and souvenirs I had collected over the past few days.
Gurjudhara,
where the monastery was built, was located on the main highway
between Kathmandu city and Lumbini. The sun was not even up when we
left the monastery. After waiting by the roadside and inhaling fumes
of all the vehicles that passed by for what seemed an eternity, a van
arrived. Soon our bags were strapped to the top of the hood and we
got in. It was pretty crammed. There was hardly any leg space.
Everyone was glued on to the neighboring passenger due to efficient
use of seating space. I also got a seat at the back. For someone who
was known to have motion sickness, a seat at the back (that was not
next to a window) where the most vibrations occurred while driving on
bumpy roads, it was a nightmare. Luckily, my forward thinking brain
told me to buy a huge stash of mints before this trip, so those
helped me a great deal in keeping my food down and avoiding any
inconveniences to the other passengers. The driver played catchy
local hit songs on the music player and was very generous with the
volume, which I didn't mind actually. It was all part and parcel of
the sensory input of the journey. The mountain and river views that
we passed by were stunning. It was much like a winding drive along
the mountain slopes in the central province of Sri Lanka, where my
home is. For about eight hours, I sat, sometimes awake, sometimes
asleep in the same position, hardly talking or reading (that's when I
feel like throwing up!), sometimes eating and mostly looking around and thinking.
Stopover for meals and toilet breaks
We stopped by
several places for meals and toilet breaks. The monk took care of all
the talking at these stopovers so I didn't have to worry about a
thing. The dhal bhat tasted really good everywhere we dined (and I
had to struggle with the inconvenience of eating with a clumsy right
hand that was not well adapted to delicately mixing the food and
putting the food in the mouth gracefully). It is interesting to
compare how there is only one or two meal choices here (chapati or
dhal bhat, perhaps with the addition or subtraction of a meat dish)
where as in Singapore or Dubai, we are spoilt by so many food choices
at one stall and yet complain sometimes. Public toilets were mostly
dark places and unclean due to heavy usage by other travelers. Once,
I had to walk through the (dark) back kitchen of a roadside hotel to
the toilet at the back, passing by several smiling boys who were the
cooks. And to my dismay, a huge chunk off the bottom of the door was
missing (looked like it had rotted away with all the moisture) and
mind you, this was a pit latrine. One has to improvise for situations
such as these. I took off the shawl that I was warmly wrapped up in
and draped it over the door so that I was able to do my business in
privacy. Later I had to drape myself back in the same shawl, while
trying not to think about what I already knew about germs in toilets.
The monk had
made all arrangements for the trip early on, he had contacted his
friend who was to drive us around and he had also informed the
temples of our arrival so that we had places to spend the nights. We
got off at Bhairawa and met up with his friend who was to take us to
Lumbini in his small red maruti car. After an eight hour sore ride in the
van, the cushioned seats of the maruti felt really good! We made a
small detour to go and see the Ramgram stupa. It is believed
to have some of the Buddha's relics from the ancient times. Since it
is not a well publicised place, it was peaceful and lacked the hoards
of tourists. After paying our respects, we were off to Lumbini.
Ramgram Stupa - that was it, the small raised mound behind the Bodhi tree is what was left of the stupa
Lumbini is a
place of great historical significance to Buddhists (and Hindus). The
Hindus believe that the Buddha was an incarnation of their God
Vishnu. Every year, it is visited by millions of pilgrims and
tourists alike. It is believed to be the place where Queen Maya gave
birth to Prince Siddhartha (who would later become the Buddha) in 563
BC, while resting at a park on her way to visit her parents. There
are several monuments and temples to signify the places where he was
born, a pond where both mother and son bathed and ruins of the
ancient Kapilavastu palace. There is even a stone pillar with
inscriptions to mark the visit of the great King Asoka many centuries
later in 345 BC. Today, Lumbini is a UNESCO World Heritage Site of
about twelve square kilometers. With cooperation and generous funding
from various countries, several monasteries have been built on site
to showcase the unique Buddhist traditions (Theravada, Mahayana and
Vajrayana) followed in countries such as Nepal, Tibet, India, Sri
Lanka, China, Indonesia, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Korea and
Japan. A few monasteries were still under construction during the
time of my visit. This was a convenient one-stop place to witness
various Buddhist traditions practiced around the world.
A monastery under construction
The eternal peace flame
Later that night, I was introduced to the Head nun and little nuns at a Nun's Temple, where I was to spend the next two nights. Aside from being a place for worship, the temple quarters also served as a centre where pilgrims were able to stay the night while they completed their pilgrimage. The little nuns seemed happy to help me get comfortable and we smiled at each other a lot, they even had a fair grasp of English. There were about six or seven little nuns not more than fifteen years of age.
The nuns' temple where I stayed
The little nuns conducting religious rituals for temple devotees
Oh and I forget, I was suffering with a terrible cough and flu that was aggravated by exhaustion and my self-medication regime was no longer effective. They were quite worried and gave me strong flu medicines that they used, hot food, hot water and herbal drinks to relieve some of the symptoms. In places like these, where doctors and hospitals were hard to access, the monks and nuns had their own little knowledge and stash of medicines. For lack of a better description, I felt like crap. The huge swarms of mosquitoes that were feasting on my blood seemed less of a concern, when compared to how far my flu symptoms had advanced.
However, the
next morning, must be due to the heavy medication, I was feeling a
tad bit better and there was no way I was going to sleep off this
disease and miss the excitement of traveling. The next morning, the
monk expressed his concerns over my health but I assured him that I
was up for the challenge. Two little nuns were asked to accompany us
on the sight seeing tour and I am guessing it was mostly as company for me. There lies some disparity on the exact location of Kapilavastu –
the area in the ancient Shakyan Kingdom where Prince Siddhartha grew
up. Tilaurakot is believed to be the Kapilavastu of Nepal. There is also a Kapilavastu in India, a few kilometers from
Lumbini and very close to the India-Nepal border. It is possible that
in the ancient times, when certain areas of what is now separated as
India and Nepal were both part of one Kingdom.
On the way, passing stretches of paddy fields on both sides
It didn't take
long for me to bond with the two little nuns, they were very bubbly,
social and highly inquisitive about where I came from, what I did,
details of my family and if I was married, etc. I learned some
details about them too. At first, they called me “sister” and
later as we got more friendly, I was promoted to “didi” (I'm
guessing didi was a more affectionate term) and I had to
address them as “Guru Ma”, which was the respectful term used to
address a nun in Nepal. One was fourteen and the other was twelve
years old. They told me they went to a school
attended by regular children and the school was many kilometers away. Recently, they were given bicycles by a generous benefactor and it made the commute much easier. In addition to school, they were also taught at the temple by the
Head nun, they attended to daily religious rituals and helped to cook
and keep the monastery clean. Forgetting their pink robes and shiny
bald heads, they seemed like two little ordinary children to me. I
didn't ask about their families, in case it triggered any sad
memories. One of them liked operating my camera. They also seemed to
like the music playing in the radio of the maruti. For most of the
trip, they (we) were giggling about one thing or the other, sitting
at the back, while the monk and the driver had their own
conversations. It was a wonderful feeling - driving along vast stretches of
paddy fields on both sides of a very straight, narrow tar road with
the windows wide open allowing currents of wind to gush in and hit my
face, listening to local music of the older generations (I was no stranger to classical music of this part of the world) with these people that I met not
many days ago.
Kapilavastu of India
The Sri Lankan temple at Kapilavastu
We were also
able to make a quick trip to Kapilavastu in India! I was very
thrilled for having stepped on Indian soil for the first time,
although I had to promise myself that I'll visit the country another
time to explore it properly. On our way back, we also visited a Sri
Lankan temple where lots of Sri Lankan pilgrims dropped by to visit
the resident monk, offer rations, replenish their drinking water supplies and use the toilets in the temple. There was only one monk
that day and we were invited to stay for lunch. We had to cook lunch
ourselves, however. That was an interesting experience. The two nuns
and I offered to make rice, chapati, some leaves and dhal.
Since the kitchen had Sri Lankan spices, I took the head chef role
with the rice and curries and they helped to make the chapatis.
After offering the food to the monks and enjoying the fruits of our
labour, the three of us went to explore the neighborhood. There was a
paddy field next door. We had some time left to walk around and
attempt to swing on some low hanging branches of a huge mango tree.
Well, it was their idea so I won't take any credit for it.
The little nuns
When it was time to make our way back to Nepal, the monk at the temple packed several bags of rations that he received from the visiting pilgrims, for us to carry back with us. Clearly, he had more soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, herbal drinks, herbal balms, paracetamol, towels, food rations, etc than he needed. I learned that helping each other to re-distribute resources to monks and nuns in other temples where it was most required was a common practice they followed. Back in Lumbini, we made quick tours of all the foreign monasteries until night time. Each monastery had its own unique art and architecture influenced by the culture and country it originated from.
In the late evening, we were able to visit the peaceful Maya Devi temple, when the chaos of all the pilgrims had died down. The security guard let us go all the way to the centre of the temple where we caught a glimpse of the spot where Prince Siddhartha was believed to be born. It was such a great feeling of awe and joy to be here, knowing the religious and historical significance it held.
Inside the Maya Devi Temple
The Ashokan Pillar at Lumbini
It must have
been the thrill and company of the trip the day before and the
effectiveness of the medicines I was given, I was feeling a little better the
next morning. The monk told me that he had received a special
invitation to participate in the katina ceremony at the Sri
Lankan monastery in Lumbini. After three months (usually
corresponding to the rainy season) spent in one location mostly in
quiet meditation and teaching devotees who visit them, Buddhist monks
are offered a special robe during this ceremony called the katina
robe. It is considered to be an act of great merit to participate in
this annual event. Many other monks and nuns gathered here and they
were treated to lunch separately. Since I didn't have any company, I
mostly hung around on my own. I spoke to a few Sri Lankan pilgrims
but didn't find anyone my age.
Luckily, I spotted a young French girl
in the sea of people (she stood out very well from the rest and now I
can tell a French nose when I see one!) and from the looks of it,
about my age. First I thought she looked left out so I edged closer and introduced myself. Soon we were
friends. I learned that she was a PhD student in a university in
France and her project revolved around Buddhism and Lumbini. She had
arrived here on her own a few years back to study and complete her
project. She spoke the local language fluently, ate the local food
very comfortably, knew a lot of people and rode around different
places in Lumbini in a bicycle. She was anything but left out! She told me though that she missed
home and her husband back in France very much and her project was
near completion. It is amazing to see what some people are willing to
endure to do what drives them.
When the ceremony was over and I was
reunited with the monks and nuns, we went back to the nuns' temple to
collect my belongings and say our thanks and goodbyes to them. I promised the two little nuns that I would write to them and
send them a few photographs of our trip. It took long, but I eventually got around to keeping my promise. After that, it
was a long trip back to Kathmandu to the monk's monastery. But not before making a short detour to see Tilaurakot, which is believed to be the Kapilavastu of Nepal.
Tilaurakot - Kapilavastu of Nepal
The ruins at Tilaurakot
And with that, the tour of Lumbini was complete.
