Chapter 6: Sacred Lumbini

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.