Holi War, Visiting Friends, Wild Meditation

Now that my days have become more routine, I am finding fewer exciting topics to write about and less time to write about them. Despite this natural progression, I will try to write at least twice a month from now on. In this episode I will recount the harrowing tale of Nepal's yearly Holi war, a trip to a commune where traditional meditation is turned upside down, a brief visit from a friend I met in Mexico, and some thought provoking lessons from a recent return-trip to Pokhara.

Holi War

The city was dead silent except for the tortured screams of children running in the streets, parents nowhere to be found. Every narrow alleyway became a dangerous gauntlet; the few brave souls who ventured out were quickly targeted and dispatched. Not even the grandparents were safe. The streets were littered with empty, plastic artillery shells. Bands of feral boys roamed the city in search of victims, screaming their victory cry, "Happy Holi!" after every successful attack. It was the 10th of March and all activity in Kathmandu gave way to the annual celebration of Holi.

When I finally worked up the courage to leave my apartment, I was protected by a rain poncho and armed with water balloons and bottles. My mission was to run to the nearest neighborhood shop to pick up some red, colored powder and a packet of water balloons. Within 30 seconds two balloons exploded in front of me, a third landed on my head. The aggressors were quick and had already hidden themselves in their windows, two, three, maybe four stories up. I saw the screaming children, chasing each other with buckets, balloons, and water bottles. The bands of roaming boys came from all directions, smiling, yelling, all painted and soaked. Buckets of water were dumped by unseen persons on rooftops. At any moment one of these boys might run up and cover you with colored powder.

The celebration concerns a story from Hinduism. I have heard that there are various explanations, and here is what Wikipedia says: "
The main day, Holi, also known as Dhulheti, Dhulandi or Dhulendi, is celebrated by people throwing colored powder and colored water at each other. Bonfires are lit the day before, also known as Holika Dahan (death of Holika) or Chhoti Holi (little Holi). The bonfires are lit in memory of the miraculous escape that young Prahlad had when Demoness Holika, sister of Hiranyakashipu, carried him into the fire. Holika was burnt but Prahlad, a staunch devotee of Lord Vishnu, escaped without any injuries due to his unshakable devotion. Holika Dahan is referred to as Kama Dahanam in Andhra Pradesh.
Holi is celebrated at the end of the winter season on the last full moon day of the lunar month Phalguna (February/March), (Phalgun Purnima), which usually falls in the later part of February or March. In 2009, Holi (Dhulandi) was on 11th March and Holika Dahan was on 10th March."
After spending the day roaming the streets, throwing water balloons from my rooftop, and exchanging clouds of powdered paint with the children in my neighborhood, I got on my bicycle and rode for about two hours to spend some time at Osho Tapoban. This international retreat center and commune is just outside the Kathmandu Valley and it based on the teachings of Osho, a controversial religious leader who died in India in 1990. I didn't know much about Osho's teachings or meditations before arriving at Tapoban and the experience was certainly challenging and eye-opening. I decided to stay or a few days in order to experience communal life and to participate in the meditations. In order to participate, I had to purchase two long robes, one maroon-colored for the daytime meditations, and one white for the evening meditation.

Each day there are five meditations, each approximately an hour long, with a longer celebration in the evening. Many of these sessions involved dancing, humming, and during Dynamic Meditation, perhaps the most well-known, everyone is encouraged to express themselves in any way they please, regardless of any social inhibitions. Most people spend this time screaming, yelling, dancing, some cry, others laugh. Some sit silently. For me, this was a revolutionary way to practice meditation. I found that it was actually an extremely effective method of catharsis which led to a previously unknown calmness of mind. I continue to practice the Osho meditations in my apartment, but I keep the volume down.

A couple weeks later I received a message from Eric Rockey, a friend I met while I was living in Sayulita, Mexico. After leaving Mexico, I spent some time couch surfing at Eric's house in Seattle, and he told me that he might be visiting Nepal sometime in the next year. I hosted him in my apartment for a few days and we even took a short return trip to Osho Tapoban. I had an assignment from Kathmandu University to interview a leader, so I decided to Interview Swami Anand Arun, the leader of the commune. Eric and I had a great time participating in the meditations and my interview with Swami Arun was very interesting. I gave a brief presentation on Osho Tapoban and Sw. Arun to my classmates and a few said that they felt inspired to go to the commune to begin practicing Osho's meditations .

I'll end with my most recent excursion, which was an unplanned trip to visit Safal's family in Pokhara again. Safal's brother, Baman, called me one morning last week and told me that I should take another trip to visit him and his family. I told him that I would certainly consider it, but that I should probably stay and go to my classes. Later that morning I received a call from Safal, and he said that he was leaving for his family's home that afternoon! I decided to join him and I'm so glad that I did.

Safal's family was even more friendly and welcoming than the first time I visited. I learned a new phrase from his mother, who would repeat the same question with a smile on her face throughout every day that I spent at the farm, "Nicklai, ke din?" This means, "What can I give you, Nick?" The Nepali people are teaching me the true meaning of generosity. I spent every day feeling full from the time I woke up and had my first cup of steaming milk tea, prepared fresh from the family's cow, to the last heaping plate of Dal Bhat Tarkari (lentil soup, rice, and curried vegetables) before bed. I took full advantage of this peaceful break from the chaos of Kathmandu in order to a lot of reading, writing, and catch-up on school and Rotary presentations. I also took a short trip with Safal and some of his childhood friends to visit a small village called Luan. We traveled by foot and by bus, sitting and bouncing on the rooftop as the bus rolled through a wide, flat river valley, often driving through the river itself.

We saw many people from the rural villages, bathing and washing their clothes in the crystal-clear mountain water, grazing their cows and water buffalos along the banks, and women dressed in brightly colored clothes, working in rice paddies, with water up to their knees. Because this is a generally hazy time of year in Nepal, we only caught a short glimpse of the Himalayas. I can't wait until the late summer season, after the skies have dumped all their monsoon rains and the mountains come into full view.

When we returned to Pokhara, I had the opportunity to spend some time with Baman, Safal's older brother. Baman is a very brilliant, successful, and inspiring teacher of high school students. His English is impeccable, which is especially impressive because he received his education from the government schools that are notorious for teaching sub-standard English. He is very highly motivated and takes advantage of all possible opportunities to teach anything to anyone. I discussed with him his restless energy and where it comes from. At times I felt confused and even frustrated by Baman's constant stream of conversation and inability to sit still or be silent. I asked him about this eternal dissatisfaction and he replied that satisfaction was his greatest enemy. This surprised me because satisfaction is what I am searching for every day. Then Baman told me the story of his family. I will recount an abridged version here, and I apologize for not being able to offer all the heart-wrenching, unbelievable details.

Safal had explained to me on my last trip to Pokhara that his family was quite poor. However, they appear to be quite well off when compared to most rural Nepali families. Baman gave me a much more complete explanation. Baman said that when he was preparing to enter the forth grade, his family did not have enough money to pay the 400 rupee entrance fee (this amounts to less than $10). They asked their family members for money, but they were told that Baman should not continue his education, but should learn how to work on the farm instead. Baman's mother sold her gold wedding necklace and got about 2000 rupees, which they used to send Baman and his siblings to school that year and to purchase a Nanny goat. The goat annually produced offspring which they sold and used to pay for the rest of his education. At that time, Baman's father had almost no money, he was illiterate, and he could only earn about one or two dollars per day by working in the fields of his neighbors. The family had to use this money to purchase food items like salt, cooking, oil, and sugar. Baman said that it was quite rare for the family to be able to afford tea, and that they could only have meat once every year.

Baman devoted all his time to his studies and by the time he was 15 he began tutoring other students who were his age and older. He was so successful at tutoring that his clientele grew exponentially. Before long he had earned enough money to build a small classroom on his parents’ property. His students would then come to him to learn and he began teaching English at a high school when he was 17. His energy, enthusiasm, and genuine interest in the wellbeing of his students have impressed enough people that he was recently hired at one of Pokhara's top private boarding schools. He is making a high salary and, during a visit to the school, I personally witnessed that his students absolutely adore him. Now he and all of his siblings have either completed or are working on a master’s degree. His parents enjoy a happy, comfortable life, and Baman promised his father that he would never have to work in any of his neighbors' fields again. He is supporting his family and has built another room on the property which serves as his own bedroom. He has also been able to purchase a motorcycle to get around the city.

So, why am I different from Baman? I have never had to struggle for anything in my life. I think that is the basic answer. I have worked hard for a few things and that always paid off, but I have never had to struggle like Baman. His ambition gives meaning to his life. It has led to the survival and success of his family. The books on meditation and spirituality that I find so inspiring send a very contrary message: ambition will only lead you away from the present moment, which is the only place where an individual can find happiness. I created some mental suffering for myself because I was trying to reconcile my worldview with Baman's. After a long, emotional talk with him, I realized that we don't have to reconcile our worldviews. We can co-exist independently and joyfully as we live our lives in our unique and beautiful ways.

In other news, I have been spending more time with the Rotarians and Rotaractors of Kathmandu. Just yesterday I had a great time giving a presentation to the Rotaract club of Kathmandu Midtown and I was so inspired by the energy and enthusiasm of these young people. They are involved in so many social service projects and they were genuinely interested in learning about my home and my experiences in Nepal. I even taught them how to play Backgammon as we sipped tea after the meeting. I am planning to visit some of their projects, which include a low-tech, low-cost, highly effective water filtration system that people can use in their homes, distribution of food and clothing to the poorest people in the valley, and the construction of a basketball court at a low-income school.

My classes at Kathmandu University are interesting sometimes, but lately I am spending more time and energy outside of school. I find that the people I meet and places I visit are much more meaningful that learning lots of economic formulas or Nepal's Environmental Impact Assessment Policy. Please leave me some feedback and I'll try to write more soon.