It was like a very big church picnic in the Gupta Buddhist Monastery Temple for the visit and teaching by the Dalai Llama. A sea of maroon robes with flashes of yellow. The temple was dedicated with thousands of flags, a humid hot day in India. Everyone arrived hours early, excited for the event, the monks, the visitors, the Tibetans. On the way up the walk way, painted with mandalas, the Thanka master artist from Norbulingka recognized me and took my hand, holding it while he talked, very excited, it seemed to see me there.
No cameras or electronic equipment of any kind was allowed, we knew that from when we got the passes a week ago. We told Clark, forget about taking your camera, but he took it anyway, whipped out a press pass he had fabricated, and they let him in. I had to hide my phone in a cactus, otherwise, how would I tell Mahi when we were done?
The introduction was like long Philip Glass prelude, repetitive, a deep rumble of very deep voices chanting a prayer, with the light English voice with a Tibetan accent offering a translation over the radio. It was both inside the temple and outside on the porches, everyone sitting on cushions, eating little lunches while they waited, meanwhile, the monks made a big lunch for everyone outside. "in constructing the mandala we must be very practical, you cannot remain empty handed" "we need a deep understanding of what empty-ness is"
The teaching went on for a long time, he laughed, told jokes about himself, visiting the doctor, who said, you are not 18 anymore, you are 80. He talked about 21st century Buddhism, and being skeptical, investigating like scientists, a good scientist keeps things open, using reason and logic, not just faith, but getting deep understanding. He talked for a long time, then said, it is time to take a break, the chorus of deep chants returned, and some young monks started handing out paper cups, and racing around the place with big silver pots of sweet milk tea, which they poured in the blue cups.
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