DavidFordJournal

Photos: David_Slideshow

davidford — Mon, 11 Jul 2016 21:41:00 GMT

Slideshow

Goan, Goan, Gone

davidford — Sat, 30 Apr 2016 22:02:00 GMT

Well, that's it I'm afraid. I am typing this from Sukhavati Community in Bethnal Green, London, which means that, sadly in a way, I am now home.

There's plenty for me to update and photographs to add but for now only a few tappings from London.

I had a good journey home from Bombay, a speeding cab ride in the middle of the night, a long, long wait to get through passport control at the airport, a dither about whether to buy sunglasses (declined option) and a flight encompassing a snooze and 1.9 Bollywood films. A brief moment of terror when I was convinced the guy opposite me was a terrorist (what's he got out of his bag, why is he wearing a thick overcoat, why is he talking to that guy, where has he gone now?) but finally a landing in London and the welcome sight of my Dad greeting me at the airport.

A huge thanks to my Dad for all his support and love on this trip and to him and the family for keeping his ill health, only 4 days after my departure, from me. I love you all.

The weekend was full, meeting up with my friends Mike and Gill for a great breakfast near Marylebone station, in crisp, clean, clear beautiful Spring London, lunch with my Dad and siblings and then, on Sunday, watching my sister, Trudi, running the London Marathon for Children with Cancer. She's such a great person (subjective of course but it has to be objectively true).

Now I'm back in the community getting used to what used to be so familiar: the sound of the dinner bell, the smells of a Buddhist kitchen, cleaning and community nights. I'm not sure how long I will stay but I am very grateful to be back and to be with my excellent friends.

Right, enought of that. I will post some pictures of Bombay/Mumbai and write about some of my experiences there. I'm pleased I went as on the whole I loved it. I had actually spent a few months there before (albeit in Mum's womb) and it felt very familiar. Colonial grandeur not in the same decay as Calcutta.

Thanks for reading the blog. I can't tell who has been but have been able to see how many 'hits' I've had. This has felt very supportive, so the thanks is heartfelt.

Much love,

Davidxx

Photos: David_photogallery_Goa4

davidford — Tue, 12 Apr 2016 15:04:00 GMT

Goan for broke

davidford — Thu, 7 Apr 2016 18:17:00 GMT

Well the title is a bit misleading but I like it.

I remain in Goa in my shack, by the sand, by the sea and the season unfurls around us. Last night it felt like we were the last people at a party, a situation I generally relish.

I'll remain here a little longer, enjoying early morning strolls and now swims before breakfast and long days on the beach.

This would be entirely relaxing without the predominantly female sellers of wares, saris, trinkets etc, from Karnatika who prowl the sands, appearing over the dunes like mirror and metal decked camels and relentlessly badgering for business, if not today then 'tomorrow'. Maybe is a terrrible answer, no a one that needs constant repetition.

At times I have been moved to despair, others to anger, almost always my heart sinks and some days I have avoided the beach and 'my friends'.

Still, this is of course India, nothing is entirely as I would like it even the potentially idyllic Goa, and it's a good training for patience and the realities of life. I'm not the best student, neither the worst I assume.

Short and sweet today. I'm enjoying some cheap and good ayurvedic massages, the beautiful mornings and evenings and swimming in the sea. I feel fitter and stronger and hope this continues. This morning I went for a longish and vigorous swim and enjoyed that. No sightings of dolphins yet alas! Plenty of 'desert camels' of course and no doubt this will continue..

Much love to all,

Davidxx

Photos: David_photogallery_Goa2

davidford — Fri, 1 Apr 2016 01:31:00 GMT

Photos: David_photogallery_Goa

davidford — Tue, 29 Mar 2016 17:28:00 GMT

Not Goan Anywhere

davidford — Tue, 29 Mar 2016 17:19:00 GMT

First off. Apologies for not writing in quite some time. I was anticipating coming home soon and had lost the heart for it.

I have, however, now decided to remain in India a further 3 weeks to make full use of my visa and the opportunity to relax by the sea and sand of Goa, an opportunity I don't anticipate coming around, in this way at least, for some time if ever again.

This was a bit difficult to decide but now it is done and I will see what emerges in extra time. I am relaxing in a way I have not done for some time but also experiencing the usual sadness and anxiety too.

I will write again regarding my last week or so in Pune, quite difficult, and my time here in Goa, meeting up with old new friends, Elin and Fred, from Gangtok where we shared times in a very different climate.

A propos of nothing, I'm reading a great novel called 'Tree of Smoke' by Dennis Johnson which I picked up at Castello's restaurant on the beach. It's set around the Vietnam war.

Okey doke. I hope that everyone is well and I look forward to seeing some of you soon.

Love,

Davidx

Still Here..

davidford — Sat, 12 Mar 2016 23:30:00 GMT

Yes, I'm still in Pune and likely to be for a while longer as I need to see a notarary lawyer about my flat. Joy!

If, however, I do not make it to Goa or Kerala, well, c'est la vie as they say in Quebec.

With all this I have had some of the most enjoyable days of my journey (I was shaking my head Indian style as I thought of the best word there). The outing with Omkar to visit a hostel for boys and girls in rural Maharashtra was a highlight. The countryside is beautiful, the children were gorgeous, the staff were gorgeous and the local people were, well, gorgeous too.

During the two days I was away with Omkar I also gave two addresses (!), one at the World Women's Day festival at the hostel and another at an evening gathering given in honour of Omkar and his team and the work they are doing in the community. The first one was definitely sprung on me a few minutes before the start of proceedings. I should have anticipated the second..

I also attended another gathering of declassified (?) caste groups in a town about an hour distant from the hostel where thankfully I did not have to say anything, merely listen for a few hours to various talks and lively interjections in Marathi. After this and before catching the bus back to Pune we were invited for a fantastic lunch, cooked before our eyes by what had become one of my favourite Maharashtran families.

All in all I was treated with such kindness and hospitality that I was loathe to leave - ever! I also played an Indian tag game that I was just beginning to understand as we thankfully wound it up.

Reluctant as I was to leave I felt the pull of my travels with only three weeks to go and I also wanted to see a lawyer as soon as possible to sort out, hopefully (!) a detail to do with the sale of my flat. On the bus back I was befriended by two young Maharashtrans whose concern for me, though wonderfully kind, served somehow to undermine my confidence. How had I managed to get around Pune let alone India with no HIndi or Marathi? Suhas, one of the young men, then insisted on arranging a taxi for me, much as I insisted that I had got a rickshaw to the bus stand and could surely find my way back to Manusaki. He was having none of my increasingly irritated protestations and I finally caved in and accepted his unshakeable help.

Stepping off the bus, Suhas hailed an Ola taxi with my phone, arranged the pick up point and treated Nilish and myself to tea and himself and myself to a cigarette despite my weak protestations. In the end I was grateful for his kindness, generosity (he had earlier bought me a bitter apple like fruit and insisted I should go to his village next time) and help and was back at Manusaki in double quick time. I am only now, however, recovering my confidence that I can get from a to b and generally survive in India by relying on my native good looks, utter ignorance and the kindness of strangers.

Yesterday was spent getting a new Indian mobile sim card with the help of Vinod, Vivekmitra and other friends. I had finally given up on sorting out my old one, which apparently expires 90 days after activation on a tourist visa. Thankfully the Vodafone shop in Pune was far quieter, more helpful and far less pernitecky than the one in Calcutta where the assistant, Devdatta, had made me write and rewrite my signature as it did not match to her taste, even though she had my passport in front of her (ok I'm blaming). Even though the assistant in Pune, a man with the oldest and most battered Nokia I have seen, could not have been calmer and more helpful the process still took around two hours. BUT, I now have a new Indian number plus can tether my tablet to my phone thus avoiding the mosquitos in the dining room (the boys just do not shut the veranda doors - blame, blame..).

Getting the Indian sim also allowed me my first visit to the Osho heavy Koregaon Park area, a place that both attracts and repels me, where I came across several purple clad westerners who were enrolled, I assume, on one of the several Osho courses available. The idea of wandering around in public in purple robes that mark me out as an Osho student strikes me with fear and loathing, maybe a good enough reason to go ahead and do it. Not on this trip though!

I did start talking to a nice Iranian girl reluctantly studying English Literature so that she can stay in Pune and India. This was In a burger bar in street 6 (I believe). She suggested a restaurant in lane B by Hotel O where I later went to have a great ABC (apple, beetroot, carrot) juice. She also offered that I could call her so I hope to meet with her tomorrow evening for another adventure.

Today, equipped with new Indian sim (working) I successfully (yes, you read it here) made my way to Pune Junction by auto-rickshaw and from there to meet with a solcitor friend of Vivekmitra at Vadgoan (map and instructions supplied by VM). It turned out that Milind, said solicitor, was not only astonished that I had made it to Vadgaon unassisted but also was not a notorary lawyer, which is what I needed. He is, however, a lovely and generous man and promised to speak to a colleague of his on Monday. I hope this will work out even though it will mean another train journey and a further delay to onward travelling. I am, however, trying to see this as all part of the package of my India trip and a good opportunity to develop patience. Que sera sera??

Milind also invited me to stay for lunch and for the second time in three days I had a stunning Indian lunch, cooked by his of course lovely wife, with some of the best rice I have ever tasted from Milind's grandmother's farm. All of it, however, from the subji to chapati to curd was great!

And now I am back at Manusaki (I know, I know, how did I manage - actually I was ripped off for around 10 rupees by the rickshaw driver which peed me off), a little hot but happy. Around three weeks to go before my return. I feel a little sad now even though I want to see everyone again. Good!

Puneshing

davidford — Mon, 7 Mar 2016 22:50:00 GMT

As my trip draws to its conclusion my enthusiasm for writing the blog seems to be wilting. This may also have something to do with the heat in Pune and to a change in my itinerary, having spent the last month, pretty much, either on an organised pilgrimage or spending time in two Buddhist Centres, Nagaloka and now Manusaki in Pune.

I have been in Pune several days now and have made interesting and enjoyable visits. Twice to a project working in a Catonmnent near Dehru Road and once to the Bhaja caves and to the retreat centre near there. On my spare days I have popped into Pune to visit the Ambedkar and Kelkar museums and today I took a stroll over the bridge to enjoy a traditional Indian/German Black Forest Gateau and fizzy drink whilst watching the traffic and people pass by.

Today, in fact, I feel really tired and hope that my energy picks up before too long. There seem to be loads of mosquitos in the centre and I don't like them!!! I still, however, feel that I am learning, most particularly at the moment, not to care too much what I imagine others are thinking about me (the emphasis is on the imagining aspect) or to at least notice when I am inhibiting myself by engaging in this activity.

My visit to the cantonment project was very enjoyable and extremely informative. Not only did I learn about their work, I was also taken great care of and treated with conisiderable kindness and consideration and got to meet and spend time with Savita and the team, visit a local slum where the gold/jewellery making caste lived and where I watched whilst copper and steel items were created in front of me. I was finally gifted a tooth pick, ear pick and tweezer (nose pick?) set. On my second visit I was asked to conduct an English class (I chose a Shakespeare sonnet as my starting point - a tad ambitious...), which was fun and interspersed with local marathi songs by the students.

My trip to Baja was prompted by Devamitra and I was so glad to have gone. Not only were the caves quiet, peaceful and beautiful but I also got to spend time with Ratanasambhava and Guhyacitta who had stayed as guests at Sukhavati a year or so ago. I never thought that I would be returning their visit, invited as we had all been.

I also spent a night at the Baja retreat centre which is far larger, better equipped and beautiful than I had imagined. Once again I was hosted with care and grace, enjoyed great home made food (I'm loving chapatis) and went for a lovely walk in the surrounding hills with Ratnasambhava. One of the great things about the retreat centre, besides the beautiful countryside, is that you can see the Baja caves from it.

My trips also allowed me further motorbike rides and my first taste of local trains. On my first trip I really did not know how I was going to make my way out at my stop, so many were the bodies between the exit and I, but in the end I enjoyed the mad and eventually successful scramble. On my second trip I met a family from Rajasthan whose young son took to reading from my paper (the Indian Times), exerpts from the sports pages on T20 cricket. That was until another guy on the train pointed at and then proceeded to borrow the paper until he got off. India really is quite different. On the way back another friendly chap lectured me kindly on the similarities between our different cultures whilst unintentionally but consistently spitting in my face.

Tomorrow I leave to visit some tribal peoples where the Buddhist community is doing some work and where they will be celebrating Women's Day. Once back I shall head down to Goa as soon as I can for a few weeks prior to my departure. I have now been invited to an Inidan wedding on 27th March in Wardha so may try to rearrange my flight to go from Bombay rather than Calcutta-Bombay-London.

I should miss going back to Calcutta mind!!

I hope to have a great few weeks and then look forward to seeing my family and freinds!!! I hope you all have a good few weeks too...

Love,

Davidx

Photos: David_photogallery_Baja

davidford — Mon, 7 Mar 2016 03:26:00 GMT

Photos: David_photogallery_Pune

davidford — Mon, 7 Mar 2016 03:25:00 GMT

Going Doolally

davidford — Wed, 2 Mar 2016 22:37:00 GMT

I have now arrived in Pune from Nagpur via Aurangabad.

Manidhamma, having invited me to dinner the evening before, cooked by his lovely wife Sandhya and with fellow diner Sanghashree (their one year old daughter), more than kindly took me to a vodafone store to try to sort out a problem (not possible of course because I have to contact Vodagone Bengal and not Vodafone Maharashtra..) and to the railway station at Nagpur several days ago now.

Absorbed in the Buddha's teaching on craving and the middle way I did not talk to the pretty woman sitting next to me (regretted later of course!) but I did start talking to Ramakant, a retired engineer and Ghandian, principally because he came up to me and enquired knowlingly whether I was travelling to visit the Ellora and Ajanta caves.

Ramakant, rather like my former boss Nadeem and with a similar energetic force, soon rearranged my itinerary for me and not long after invited me to stay with him in Aurangabad. In a situation like this I try to say yes and did.

6.30 the following morning we disembarked at Aurangabad where his son in law drove us to Ramakant's home for a quick refresh before the first leg of my new itinerary which saw me being transported on the back of Ramakant's chugging 7 year old moped to the tourist office, where I was to be picked up, after some discussion, by the Government Tourist Bus, destination Ellora.

Post coffee and toast I embarked on the large coach, the only passenger, persuaded not to get off it and go by private taxi by the conductor who promised to secure me an autorickshaw should there not be enough passengers for the coach to go and at less cost than that quoted by the taxi people. With some misgivings and admiration for his altruism I remained in my seat until we reached the Bus stand, where sure enough there were not sufficient passengers forthcoming. Off the bus hopping (Indian) I scurried after the fleet footed conductor to an auto rickshaw and lo and behold who was the driver? The conductor of course.

Not to worry, Massi was a good guy and I was happy to travel by auto rickshaw rather than by ac private car (I had done that for a week with Manidhamma in any case). Massi dropped me in turn at the 'awesome hilltop citadel of Daulatabad', the Buddhist, Hindu and Jain caves at Ellora, Aurangzeb's (last great Mughal) tomb and the Bibi-ka-Maqbara.

In brief the citadel and caves had me wishing to have seen them in their pomp, so I was a little frustrated as well as hot.., I enjoyed the visit to Aurangzeb's tomb though this was fleeting and the Bibi-ka-Maqbara, modelled on the Taj Mahal but built, like much else, with a need to cut costs that made a little squalid it's conceptual splendour, I thought, uncharitably, was money not best spent. I feel bad saying that.

That evening Ramakant and I went out for dinner, there and back on moped, where we were looked after by an elongated Suyen lookalike for those who know her.

We were up early the next morning, Ramakant once again transporting me to the tourist centre where this time I was taken by coach, one of 5 passengers, to the Ajanta caves some two hours drive distant.

Once again I was frustrated by not having seen them in their magnificent heyday, frustrated with myself for not hiring a guide and, my puritan leanings emerging, wondered whether it was really such a good thing to have these elaborately carved and painted caves (they are more like buildings really) rather than a simple crevice that seemed to do well enough for the Budhha, Nagarjuna, Milarepa and others.

Later I reflected a bit more on the nature of conditionality, how things as wonderful and elaborate as the Ajanta and Ellora caves and the Daulatab citadel go to wrack and ruin or even disappear completely from sight once new conditions like changing trade routes, change of patronage patterns etcetera manifest. It's all going to come to an end, even the London Buddhist Centre!!!!! Maybe even ME (surely not)!

After the hectic schedule arranged for me by Ramakant I was very pleased when he offered me to stay an extra day with him for a rest, so my last day in Aurangabad was spent lying down, doing some reading (a life of the Buddha from the Pali Canon has now supplemented the Bodhicaryavatara) and eating a little.

Yesterday, I had yet another shave, this time with haircut, reproved myself (je ne regrette rien does not apply to me - I seem to have at least two or three a day.. at least!) for this time over tipping (!) and then took an autorickshaw, overseen by Ramakant of course, to the Bus stand where I managed to get on the correct bus to Pune and to the Manusaki centre, the local Buddhist establishment, with the aid of Ramakant, Manidhamma and the kindness of a number of 'strangers'.

So here I am in the city of Osho, having made a new friend in Ramakant.

The expression Going Doolally, by the way, I discovered to have come from the Indian cantonment town not too far from Aurangabad where Raj soldiers who 'cracked' were sent. Today I learnt more about cantonment's but that's another blog..

Photos: David_photogallery_Aurangabad/Elora/Ajanta

davidford — Wed, 2 Mar 2016 00:12:00 GMT

Nagloak

davidford — Thu, 25 Feb 2016 00:26:00 GMT

This is now my fifth day at Nagaloka (or more gutterally Nagloak). It has been a weird time with moments of low emotions and others that have been quite delightful.

On arriving it was lovely to see Akashamitra from the London Buddhist Centre, here in his Karuna capacity, who could not have been more welcoming. It was great to catch up over a couple of mealtimes and to be able to open my heart and mind to him. It was also good to meet other members of the Karuna team here in India and to informally accept a very kind offer to visit Pune and it's projects from Savita and Omkar.

Otherwise my first two days were quiet, catching up on my blogs from the pilgrimage, resting, sleeping and making friends with some of the boys who are genuinely delightful: energetic, friendly and warmly interested. They are also incredibly helpful, making sure I am fetched for meals and that I am well watered and fed.

On my second morning I joined them for a 6.30 meditation and yesterday for a two hour meditation session (mindfulness of breathing, walking meditation, metta bhavana/loving kindness meditation) all preceded by the tiratanavandana and starting at 6am.

This morning I reluctantly missed this to leave on the back of a honda scooter to visit Nagarjuna's cave some 50 kilometres away, and to see the temples and ruins of Ramtek and Mansar. This was one of those occasions where I felt genuine gratitude, for Manidhamma for arranging this and suggesting we leave early, for Nitish, Manidhamma's assistant, for driving and being such good company, for the early morning beauty of India and much else besides.

Nagarjuna's cave itself has been 'captured' by the hindus and was locked to us though we could still hear strains of what sounded like popular music coming from inside. A short climb above the cave, however, the view opened up over a large lake and Nitish and I spent a quiet and lovely 45 minutes there enjoying the place. No wonder that Nagarjuna, one of the greats of Indian and mahayana buddhism, settled there for a while. I could have spent the day and it certainly put me in mind to book a solitary retreat somewhere quiet and beautiful once back home.

From the cave we made our way to Ram Mandir, an impressive HIndu temple/fort and then to a jain temple which I had spotted from the ramparts. I really enjoyed the friendliness of the people at the jain temple and both Nitish and I thoroughly enjoyed a very good and extremely cheap thali lunch, freshly prepared and served by one of the nicest 'waiters' I have come across in India. We like the jains! I'll have to look into them a bit more but it seems that they are quite keen on nakedness from the statues on view.

So from the Jain temple, via the monastic ruins at Mansur and the well manicured and lush Dragon temple at Kamptee, we made our way home to Nagaloka.

A short rest later I met up with a new friend, Pranay and his wife Ashwini, for a chat around the Buddha statue. I had met Pranay a couple of days previously where he had served me at a post office in Nagpur. Not only had he been extremely helpful and saved me some money but he had also seen the 'from' address as Nagaloka and told me that he was also a Buddhist. After that he had introduced me to his friend who showed me zero point, the column marking the centre or navel of India, and took me to a local canteen that served a good coffee, a great samosa and a refreshing fruit beer (non alcoholic) and chocolate bar.

That had been on my second unaccompanied visit to Nagpur, a 30 minute bus journey away from Nagaloka. On the first I had made my way to the Deekshabhoomi, the scene of Dr Ambedkar's personal conversion ceremony to Buddhism after which he led the largest mass conversion in known history, hundreds of thousands of scheduled caste hindus to Buddhism.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Deekshabhoomi learning a bit more about this incredible man, who rose from untouchability to create the constitution of India and achieved much more besides. One of the highlights was sitting in the shrine behind a father with two young sons and one daughter, all imaculately groomed and dressed very smartly in white.

I had also enjoyed the experience of being on my own again, shy and with no knowledge of the local language and relying so much on the goodwill of others which, in Nagpur, was very forthcoming. From the stationery shop keepers who drew me a map to get to the Deekshabhoomi, to the young man who gave me a lift partway on his moped, to local resauranteurs exhorting me to patronise their establishments or joints. I even got a free ride on a bus to the bus I should have been taking. I love all that.

On the same trip I also paid an impromptu visit to the cinema to see a Bollywood film could Loveshhuda, part set in London with some awful, awful charicatures of English thugs and a beggar and involving a surprising amount of drinking. There was enough English in the film for me to understand the gist of a not very complicated plot line and to enjoy it. I also enjoyed a brief chat with a young Engineering student (female) from Nagpur to my right in the intermission and the frenzied excitement and cat whistles of the, mostly young, audience when any of the characters kissed or even threatened to.

Other highlights of my time in Nagpur so far have been an invitation to an English/ Indian wedding reception and attending a full moon puja and dharma talk (entirely in HIndi) with some of the boys from Nagaloka. Last night, again throught the kindness of Manidhamma, I was invited into Nagpur to dinner at an English teacher's home and into his classroom where I sat on a chair on a sort of stage and talked about myself and asked and answered questions. One of the things I was asked to do was to speak in French, which was a lot of fun and I think I managed to successfully set the French tourist industry from Nagpur back several decades in doing so (talking about awful charicatures).

I had a really heartwarming evening, great food, great company and to be with the children in the class room was a priviledge and delight.

Photos: David_photogallery_Nagpur/Nagaloka

davidford — Tue, 23 Feb 2016 23:32:00 GMT

Banares Silk or 'Hindu Madness'

davidford — Sat, 20 Feb 2016 19:46:00 GMT

There is a description of the lenght of time encompassed by one aeon which involves a very large rock and the rubbing of a piece of fine Banares cloth. I had not connected Banares to Varanasi before this trip but, another thing learned, found them to be one and the same.

At 5.15 am (I know!!) one morning Manidhamma and I awoke to make the short trip to Varanasi from Sarnath. I was keen to do the trip on several counts: friends who had loved the place and one of Guru's enigmatic/ unelaborated comments that I should go there. I was also delighted that we would be travelling by motor bike, a Honda Hero Splendour in particular. You can see I have the motor bike bug.

The journey to Varanasi in the misty morning was beautiful and quiet, the only slight problem being Manidhamma coming to terms with an unfamiliar machine that, in my expert opinion, was in desperate need of a service. Still, I loved it. We arrived at Assi Ghat, listened to some raga (?) music over chai and whilst Manidhamma bargained with a boatman I watched a bunch of Hindus doing their collective yoga practice, some pranayama and vigorous up and downing of arms.

The boat journey along the Ganga river was stunning in the early mornig light and Varanasi and the river reminded me at times of Turner paintings (I've never 'felt' much for Turner but will reconsider now) and images of Venice. Our rowman took us as far as a burning ghat, where bodies of the faithful are auspiciously cremated and where we floated for some time, an experience that I found unsettling, wanting to leave and stay at the same time.

On the way back to Assi Ghat we were dropped about half way and slowly made the journey back the bike on foot and after a good breakfast at a cafe with a great view of the river. We alsi dropped by at the Ashram of Anandamayi, I believe, in whose company and at whose ashrams Sangharakshita had spent some interesting times on his Indian wanderings.

The journey back on the motorbike was altogether different from our fairly solitary trip over, involving the usual Indian confluences of rickshaws, cars, motor bikes, bikes, cows, dogs etc and taking about three times as long. Still, it was a lot of fun and a good end to one of the highlights of our trip.

I have some good photos but am struggling to upload these at the moment, rather frustratingly..

Hindu Madness, by the way, is a Manidhamma term and not a complimentary one. Fortunately I have not had to be on the receiving end of this or centuries of caste based discrimination so I have rather enjoyed the colour, noise and exoticism of it (people throwing themselves into the Ganges or holding their noses and repeatedly self ducking, to wash away their sins for example). There is a contrast to the serenity and poise that comes with a statue of the Buddha but one that appeals to a part of me. Maybe I am looking to integrate the two (well definitely).

I am now in Nagpur, to bring you fully up to date, having travelled by train from Varanasi arriving after 17 hours at around 12pm yesterday. I am staying at Nagaloka, a campus for students of Buddhism, Ambedkar and Sociology that is much larger than I had imagined The boys I have met are charming and it has also been a delight to find that Akashamitra, a friend from London, is also staying here at least until tomorrow.

What I shall do I am not quite sure yet. So far I have been recovering from the Hindu (and Buddhist) madness..

Turning the Wheel

davidford — Sat, 20 Feb 2016 18:04:00 GMT

Sravasti was left behind after one further visit to Jetta's Grove for me to enjoy its quiet and, as mentioned yesterday, reflect on my irritability.. Also, after a good Indian breakfast, Manidhamma and I having given up on mock English breakfasts. What's the point of having something that vaguely resembles the familiar and tastes nothing like when the locals know what they are doing with their own dishes. Still, sometimes the pull for home food is strong enough to override the obvious good sense of this.

The drive from Sravasti to Sarnath is around 270 kilometres, again not too far in European terms but in Indian terms that's a whole days driving, this time punctuated by a really good roadside thali, a sort of a dash.

Arriving in Sarnath around 9pm we bid Guddu a fond farewell on my part and what looked like a begrudging one on his. Maybe the tip was not sufficient to his liking? A quick dinner and then a good night's sleep at the Dhammaloka Buddhist Centre, part of the Triratna movement and sometime home to ManiDhamma. For the first time I did not share with Manidhamma, with whom I had shared a room and a snoring duet for the rest of the trip. I had also slept really well in his company so I was a little anxious about how I would fare alone.

I need not have worried, as it turned out, as I was not alone in the room but merely a guest. Whilst attaching my mosquito net I had heard scurrying from the shelf above my bed, had quickly blocked this out, but was awoken in the night by the tinkling of pans and bells and the scurrying of little feet.

Needless to say I was a little perturbed but, thank goodenss for Shantideva, was able to reflect on the benefits of minor discomforts in the building up of the fortitude to bear major ones and, after a little while, managed to get to sleep. For the next couple of nights I was aware of my host, the sound of his scampering and the silhouette of his little tail and, besides opening the door to the adjoining room so my fellow guests could also share his hospitality, did little and was surprisingly unbothered.

As for Sarnath itself I generally enjoyed it. The Buddhist centre was a little haven off a main street, with birdsong and quietude, and some of the sites, notably the deer park where the Buddha turned the wheel of the Dhamma (as in taught his first discourse) afforded me time to meditate, reflect and get my photograph taken with a friendly bunch of school children.

The Sarnath museum, an attractive, collonaded sandstone (I think) building was also impressive, housing some very beautiful carvings, one in particular of the Buddha in the teaching mudra.

On my last day I found a very good reproduction of this (photograph taken) in the Chinese Buddhist Temple along with a lovley Dharmachakra (symbolic wheel of the Buddhist teaching that must have been heavy to turn). I spent about an hour in this temple quietly enjoying the sculptures and gardens, exhausted from 8 days of travel and pilgrimage and, once again, templed out.

The whole trip has been worthwile and I am pleased to have done it. Manidhamma has been incredibly accomodating to any wishes I have had and obviously concerned that I should have a good time, improvising with a cycle ride in Lumbini for example. Still, by the end I was pleased to be ending my spiritual tourist phase. I had the luxury of travelling in a car with a friend and guide (and entertaining driver) but each major site we were joined by bus loads of Burmese, Thais, Koreans and in Sarnath for some reason plenty of Europeans. This was in many ways fine (from my perspective) but it also made for much business and bustle.

In Praise of the Guddu

davidford — Sat, 20 Feb 2016 02:25:00 GMT

Guddu was our driver on this pilgrimage, who I earlier criticised for his rally driving and honking instincts. In fairness to him, however, and as reckless and impervious to the life and limbs of other living beings he seemed (he was more concerned with the tidiness of the shelf above the car's dashboard with hindu shrine and varous mobile phones), he is a good driver and got us all safely to our destinations on at least two long drives taking in poor roads and night driving.

In his way too he was entertaining and pleasant company, teaching me how to tie a turban (of sorts) and forcing me to listen to a stream of Bollywood and local music.

Sitting in the backseat of the car on these journeys was at times a harrowing and sressful experience, certainlly an assault on the aural senses but also a great way to see some of the countryside of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, albeit at high speed. With my water bottle, books and assorted junk by my side I could look out of the window and take in a succession of rural villages, golden fields of cumin, dry earthy plains, some hills and, quite frequently, improvised cricket games.

The roads too were shared with cycles (no lights of course), motor bikes (helmets?), rickshaws, ox drawn carts, people, cars, dogs, goats, sheep, an elephant and much else besides. To get us through all these at a decent speed took a certain 'no prisoners' style driving that seemed to come easily to Guddu. So hats off to you Guddu, you got us to our destinations in good cheer and without knocking anyone over (this time).

Sitting in the back of the car also allowed me to periodically dip into the Bodhicaryavatara which I always found inspiring, instructive and at times particularly relevant (about the hazards and shortness of life for example 'the body is an object on loan').

Our first really long drive was from Lumbini to Sravasti via Kapilavastu. Kapilavastu was the city of the Siddhartha Gautama from where he went forth but not much remains of it. We stopped fairly briefly to spend some time around the stupa and its surrounding gardens, which reminded me more of a golf course than a sacred site.

Sravasti was much more interesting, home as it is to the Jetta's Grove/Annathapindika's Park where the Buddha spent around 20 rainy season retreats and gave many of his suttas/discourses. The park is extensive and well maintained and houses several monasteries and many stupas as well as being home to monkeys and birdlife.

On our first visit there we bumped into a group of Western Buddhist order members and friends from the Inverness Buddhist Sangha who were conducting a puja ritual at the site of the Buddha's former residence. My reaction was typically misanthropic - I didn't want anybody else there let alone other Brits - but this soon changed once I met them and was subject to their warmth and friendliness. On my second visit and having recieved an email from Dayaruci exhorting me to actually enjoy myself and also reflecting once again on the Buddha's quality of kindness, I felt quite ashamed of my irratibility and decided that I must do something about this...

Sravasti also is home to a Angulimala's stupa and to another site given to the Buddha by Sujata and where he also spent several rainy seasons. Angulimala was a notorious and much feared dacoit who constructed a necklace consisting of the fingers of those who he had murdered. He tried to murder the Buddha, found that however much he hurried he could never catch him up and was instead converted to the Dharma. A teaching perhaps that however low one, or anyone else, has sunk it is always possible to begin to live a 'good' life. That's what I reflected on in any case.

Sujata's place we found after a pleasant 15 minute walk in the early evening dusk through what would have been the ancient city of Sravasti, now earth and fields. A Sri Lankan monk has made it his mission to restore it to the state of prominence he at least thinks it deserves and was kind enough to invite us into his shrine and offer us tea. Whilst Manidhamma talked with him at considerable length, however, I was happier outside enjoying the quiet beauty ot the cumin fields and the riotous and playful behaviour of the monkeys. There was something about the monk that, for all his good work, I didn't like (ok so I was going to work on my irritability).

With the Buddha (Continued)

davidford — Fri, 19 Feb 2016 23:54:00 GMT

I left this story in Lumbini, specifically in the car with Manidhamma and Guddu on our way to Kapilavastu and then Sravasti. The narrative thread, however, remained in Kushinagar, the scene of the Buddha's Parinirvana, so I will pick it up from there. Much has happened since then so I may be brief..

In Kushinagar, besides visiting the large reclining Buddha, stupa and the Burmese monastery where Sangharakshita was ordained, we also visited the stupa marking the spot where the Buddha's body was cremated and a smaller site where his ashes were distributed. These places did not have the same effect on me as the aforementioned sites but I did try to imagine again what it must have been like to actually have been at the Buddha's cremation. It must have been an incredible (poor word but it will have to do) event.

My memory is a little haphazard now of the events of this trip but I'm pretty confindent that we came to Kushinagar from Vaishali, home of the Lichavis and to another stupa containing relics of the Buddha. Our stay there was brief, notable for me personally mostly for a bicycle ride. This was prompted by me curiously inspecting a Hero bike (in photos) and being invited to take a ride on it by the owner who was also partaking of chai at the same retail outlet (stall).

Not only was it fun to ride the bike but it was also nice to be the recipient of what I took to be simple generosity and kindness.

I can't think of much else so say for ths blog so I will finish it there and move on......

Love,

Davidx

Photos: David_photogallery_Varanasi

davidford — Thu, 18 Feb 2016 15:06:00 GMT