India – Tibetan Monastery – Part 1 – Getting There – The Journey
My colleague, Peter, and I had scheduled another training trip to Bangalore that was to take place in three weeks. I was sitting quietly at home reading my favorite Buddhist Magazine, (Tricycle) when I came upon a very short article about a Tibetan Monastery in southern India. The Dalai Lama had established an entire Tibetan community in northern India in 1959. He also had sent 10 monks in 1963 to southern India to found a second monastery (Namdroling Monastery) on 3,000 acres of jungle land provided by the Indian Government and the Maharaja of Mysore for Tibetan exiles. By 1999, the small group had expanded significantly and, with the help of world-wide donations, built what is locally called the “Golden Temple.” The settlement is also home to a community of over 5,000 lamas (both monks and nuns), a junior high school, a religious college and a hospital. I received the article as an irresistible invitation, as if it were written to me personally. I discovered that Mysore was only three hours from Bangalore and then another 2 hours to the monastery. I checked with Peter and he was all for the adventure. We made a slight adjustment to our schedule and designed the following half-baked plan. We would fly to Bangalore as usual, except on Friday instead of Saturday, arrive at 2AM, go to the Leela (hotel), sleep for a few hours, eat breakfast, and find a train to Mysore. We would spend the day in Mysore, find a place to sleep, and next morning go to the monastery arriving back in Mysore late at night. Then next morning, back to Bangalore and after a little rest and meeting other colleagues, begin teaching at night. The how, where, and when details would not be filled in until we were on the journey. By this time in my life, I had established the very helpful habit of imagining that the “good angels” would help me along my way. This was not a literal thing but more of an emotional call to be alert to all the good and useful possibilities right in front of my nose. The plane trip went well and we had a few hours sleep at the Leela. After a large breakfast including making sandwiches for later, we took an auto-rigshaw to the train station. We discovered there were two types of trains. The “slow” train was the one packed with Indians doing their daily business and making many stops. The fast train was almost direct and a significant upgrade in style. We asked for the “slow” train because, after all, this was an adventure. To our surprise, the man at the ticket booth told us that he would not sell us a ticket for that. Since we were American (westerners), only the fast train would do for us. At first, I wanted to argue but I remembered the “good angels” and accepted. In fact, it was a perfectly nice train with almost no passengers. Peter and I looked out at the Indian countryside for a while and then took a refreshing nap. The train felt “western” but when I went to the bathroom and opened the door there was no toilet. Hmmm? I looked more closely and there were two places to put your feet and then squat or whatever. Pulling a chain simply opened a trap door and whatever I had deposited went on the tracks. Ah, India! The main attraction in Mysore is the Maharaja’s Palace. (see photo) I recommend the website since it is quite indescribable https://www.mysorepalace.gov.in/ especially the architecture, artwork, temples, courtyards, gardens and even a zoo. Entering the palace and its grounds is encountering another world. We spent hours there, wandering inside and outside. I don’t remember seeing many other westerners. This is place for Indians as well as others from Asia. It is always interesting to be the outsider. Next stop, before it closed, was the large and rambling Devaraja Market in Mysore. http://www.global-gallivanting.com/reasons-to-visit-devaraja-market-in-mysore-a-photo-essay/. This website has wonderful photos of the market. It goes on for blocks and includes flowers, fruits, saris, essential oils and spices piled high just to name a few of the offerings. Someone we met told us to sleep at The little White House, a local mini-version of the American White House. It was just a bit out of town, so we took a cab with a very pleasant driver. On the way, we told him of our plans to visit the monastery and wondered if he would be willing to drive us, spend the day, and then drive us home. He agreed for what we considered a fair price so we were all set for tomorrow. Ah, the good angels again. The hotel, at that time (around 2007) had the feeling of having outlived its former glory. The lobby and dining room, perhaps once, had been venues for many dignitaries but certainly not now. It was slightly eerie as there was only one person who appeared to be doing everything. We had our choice of rooms since almost no one was in the hotel. We selected the second floor overlooking the pool. “Good choice” he said but warned us to keep our doors and windows closed when we were not there because the monkeys would definitely enter and cause a mess. We did sit out on the balcony overlooking the pool, saw one family with children swimming and many monkeys in the trees. For a fixed price, the hotel restaurant served a multi-course delicious traditional Indian dinner. As a surprise, two India musicians arrived – one playing an Indian flute and the other an Indian drum (tabla). The music was hauntingly beautiful and they played for an hour without stopping. By evening’s end, Peter and I were the only ones in the restaurant and it was time to sleep and get ready for an early start to the monastery. .
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