The man who couldn't cough

A splendiferous morning, worth the walk to the top and to the helicopter pad.  The Fishtail shows off for everyone fortunate to see her.  Even the chatty and bad singing Indonesians should have gotten something from it. 

In approximately one month I’ll be back in my host country’s armpit.  Flying back to the states, staying here, a trip to Tibet, a trip to Dubai.  I could still do Sri Lanka.  Hmm, with a stop in Muscat.  Hmmm…I have no problem staying here, but a restlessness simmers and I’m not sure why. 

Ram cleans the rooms next door.  He taught me a Nepalese phrase that isn’t used on this mountain but in his village 400km away.  Ke-Bonza (soft z)  What is this he speaks?  And I’m told it’s used when a serious discussion is in progress.  Still I like it and I’m sure I’ll find use for it when we’re concerned about something even though I still don’t know what the concerned discussion is about.  

A very poor night of sleep and the sun is quite strong now so it’s a nap before going to Baba’s house to pick up corn, squash, bo-day, I don’t know what that is, and corn.  I think I’ll be taking a basket.   Maybe I should take the car!

Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.  Good idea.  Almost sunset, clouds quietly drifting north.  Clouds look much larger at this height.  Straight ahead floating nonchalantly north is a dark bluish gray arrow shaped cloud that is the head of a long trail coming from the East.  So many ominous clouds and the threat only comes with the mother ships, a cloud that covers an area of Pokhara which has about 300,000 folks, it’s a big cloud and when you can’t see either end, it’s time to pay homage.

This morning I watched wispy white vapor rise from a pinch in the valley, collect, and become a cloud.  A new cloud.  That was a highlight.  For the past three days the pattern has been a threat of rain at the end of the day and then rain and definitely overnight.

9:43pm

A calm evening, anticipating rain but you never know.  It might not come tonite, it might wait until six in the morning.  With cold wind and rain and fog and you wish for that moment only, you were on the beach.  What to say, a pattern is being broken.  And there’s no idea when it’ll rain again.

Surakasha and I and a diminutive Prisma walked towards the homestead farm for vegetables.  Across from Suraksha’s grandparent’s home is a house, formerly an elementary school.  Sixteen workers from the big hotel under construction have taken residence, where the residents went I don’t know, but Ama has been feeding these fellas now for almost a year, and that comes out to 60 meals a day.  “Busy” she said when we left and headed back to the Superview. 

I have the door and the window open, it is hot in here but cool out there.  Why doesn’t that cool air come in.  Prisma’s little brother is an adorable kid, hands down.  As an infant I sat with him while he lay in the cold winter sun on seat cushions and blankets.  A cute kid then, especially when he’d lock unblinking eyes on you.  When he sees me now he starts laughing in a mocking kind of funny way.   

7.30.2014

Dry toast and masala tea and Tibetan incantations are the right morning order after a fitful night of sleep.  Maya sits at a table next to me, cleaning beans and wondering what to do with the potatoes that look a little too small to peel.   We’re gonna peel them.  Everyone’s corn is twice the height from last year’s paltry crop.  The right amount of sun and rain and humidity and maybe not a reason but the mice aren’t around. 

Taking the Bible, opening it to the beginning of the rift how do you read it, how do you interpret it?  A question arises, does God care how it is interpreted?  Sure, and not literally.  It must be accepted in the time it is read.  The word of God is divinely malleable and we must look at its meaning in light of change. 

The exercise today, if permitted, is to take the sacred text of the Jews and Christians and read, meditate, pray, and in a state of raised consciousness find what eludes everyone.  Peace.

Of course it would be helpful if I were fluent in Hebrew and Greek this would be an easier task. 

Suraksha has a dozen books in her bag and will carry water, an umbrella, maybe a snack, the bag is about 8kg, a considerable weight walking up and down a mountain.  The sun breaks free of the myriad of clouds strewn about in all directions.  The school has a bus or two but they’re for those who live horizontally far.  But really the secondary roads that you find wrapping around the mountain’s waist are rough and inclined to tipping things over.  Walking, what to do. 

What do you think your chances are of discovering something?  Slim to nil, it seems my thoughts go into overdrive when I am physically engaged.  Of course if I really want to get to where I need to be to whatever, interact with spirits, hallucinate, completely open to what is transpiring and discern, well that is not in my hands.  Sure it’s a hellava trip, with risks, but really, it’s for peace.  And having a lot of time on my hands. 

We are relieved the sore back wasn’t from a tear though I knew that was unlikely.  I think I’d see discoloration.  But I am able to cough again though the pain remains it’s not as bad.  It is good to cough.  Imagine a life of someone who couldn’t cough. 

What makes you so sure being in another dimension you’ll be able to know the right from the wrong.  Mischievous spirits I was told, are all around you.  I can’t deny there were a few mean misleading spirits uninvited, and this is understood in five years of hindsight,  but I guess the other way to look at that is maybe I was the uninvited?  Whose dimension did I crash into and through unintentionally? 

I thoroughly enjoyed this morning’s bird songs.  Sad, forlorn, sweet, wispy highnotes flick into air.  The snow capped peak of Lamjung peeks above the cotton thick clouds going nowhere.  Ram spot cleans the room, wipes up the mud from my shoes and I give him a piece of gum which may have been a highlight of some kind.  I had to show him not to eat the paper.

Maybe another hot afternoon.  Sigh. I am in favor of a nice afternoon thunderstorm. 

5:43pm

Dark clouds move north and coming from the east 800 story high post thunderstorm clouds spawning curtain showers.  Why do these clouds above all clouds feel the most demanding aside from their size.  No rain today despite the eminent threat.  For exercise I scrubbed clean sections of the eating area’s ceiling.  I needed an eight inch lift to remove an amazing amount of dirt in a year. 

Ok, really, isn’t what you would like to solve better done in a monastery somewhere else?  Let’s go to Jerusalem.  Not right now.  How about Union Theological Seminary? Ha ha.  Seriously again, you’re over your head, dude, you don’t know what to think.  I know.  I read the Cain and Abel account, sure protecting Cain introduced retribution-resolution conflict; "the Lord answered, if any one kills you, seven lives will be taken in revenge."  That was mighty kind of you Lord.  Can we understand that proclamations forever determining a person’s life would include their bloodline for, what 7,000 years?  How many generations is that? 

And I’m staying away from tangents here.  A solution is simple if you keep it simple. 

A shower curtain about 15km long falls on the east side of Pokhara.  The dark grays flying north over us have an end 50km in the east.  Ram closes the rooms and hums an animal song. Night is almost here.  Ram leans over to see what I am typing.  Oh I can type without looking.  That makes him laugh.  Oh he sees my hookah.  We know that word.  And the gray curtain over Pokhara is moving fast right toward us I tell the man boy as winds blow cooler. 

What is it about proclamations from God? If they are given to individuals do they, should they be considered for us now?

Wow, this black mother cloud is coming right at us and fast and bringing that heavy rain.  Ha.  And hitting the mountain they become one and we’re in a slashing rain white out close the door and the window.  The clouds remain, resting perhaps from their origins in the Bay of Bengal.  Birds bathe in the cornstalks. 

I don’t make it a habit of reading the Bible after a session with a hookah.  It’s a bit intense, there’s a lot to say hey what is this all about so the simple yet profound story of the two brothers was enough. 

The rain lightened up the clouds are moving and I thought, foolishly, that was it, but here comes another wall of water coming straight up with a vengeance. 

9.25pm

A light rain and fog make for the most peaceful moments on the mountain.  All goes quiet, any last thoughts before you pass out in exhaustion?  And it’s only 9.30? Them's monastery hours.