Friday September 18, 2009
Shangri-la
is not a place.
It is within
yourself.
Today, we
are free. No tours, no excursions, no
climbing.
And today we
with replenished our carry ons with all clean clothes. Life is good.
And, want to hear something really funny? We all agree that we brought too many clothes
and stuff.
Following
the suggested route from “Lonely Planet”, we decide to explore Old Town. Life is much more real here with hardly any
military, and the people are friendly and helpful. Local venders are everywhere selling
everything from yak butter to antique jewelry.
And listen to this, Carol Poe, we
even found pop corn, something like kettle corn back home. One young man was selling jewelry and old
relics so cheap, you almost feel guilty buying anything – and, on top of that,
everyone expects you to haggle. It’s
almost like a game they enjoy. We bought
several things from him, but left feeling like we could have easily purchased
his whole stand. Not because we had the
money (Don’t be silly.), but a carryon can only hold so much!
We stopped and
stepped in The House of Shambhala just because Anne saw an interesting necklace
in the inconspicuous shop window. When
she asked the price, a woman, who could not speak, ran next door and returned
with a very tall, very impressive looking man.
Turns out, he is Laurence Brahm, author of “Searching for
Shangri-la.” I couldn’t believe the
author of the book I meant to read before the trip just walked in the door, and
I told him so. He asked me if I believed
in karma. He spent a lot of time with us
despite the fact that he was leaving shortly for Hong Kong where a book-signing
tour started. Turns out he has written
more than 30 books. The House of
Shambhala is an ancient, rambling structure that he has restored and turned
into a small hotel, spa, and restaurant.
Really well done, all of it. The
shop, we discovered, sold only items made by handicapped Tibetans. We bought some of his books which he took the
time to autograph, and we later had lunch in the little upstairs
restaurant. The interior reminded all of
us of Jim Thompson house in Bangkok.
Only the best Tibetan antiques have been used, and the renovation is
most impressive. The whole complex is
tucked away on a back street that we found only by following the old town
route. We also purchase interesting
hand-made paper items on the way back to our hotel.
Tonight we
have our last dinner with the guide we have loved. Actually, I have fallen in love with the
Tibetan people. They are kind, friendly
and always praying even doing the most mundane daily things. No one is without prayer beads or a prayer
wheel. I grieve for their fate. Their country is occupied, and they have lost
their freedom, but still they remain spiritual, almost holy.
When
reflecting on why we made the climbs up to the temples and monasteries, I know
this much is true: When finally reaching
the top, our senses have been bombarded with incense, flickering butter lambs,
chanting and the low sounds of the common people praying.
Om Mani
Padme Hum, Om Mani Padme Hum, Om Mani Padme Hum is still sounding in your head
long after you have left the mountain.
Also remaining for me is the exhilaration I feel and more importantly,
the sense of peace.
Notes to
cute people:
Kevin:
Thank you so much for sending Lorna Doones. I have never had then before and most likely
will never have them again, but today in Tibet, they are my favorite food.
Dick:
What would I have done without the almonds?
Betty:
We have all enjoyed hearing your cute and clever comments.
