Saturday, April 14, 2012

Light, Darkness and Sex

One of my favorite places to pass away the afternoon is the Ledge. The Ledge is really a span of concrete in the shell of a soon-to-be built (or previously built and now torn down, not sure which) hotel on our shortcut route down into town. It overlooks Temple Rd. and the _ Valley in which Lower Dharamsala is situated. Here is a picture to give you a better idea of the view:



This afternoon I was romanced on the Ledge, for in the hour or so that I sat there God sent to me thousands of yellow butterflies, floating out of the trees behind me and down into the valley below in broken streams. Then, in the midst of this migration, the hawks appeared. With wingspans of more than four feet they soared continuously on the updrafts, slicing between the butterflies in a harmonious interspecies dance of the air. I was captivated.

I have always loved panoramic views, which you could probably figure out by looking at my pictures. I’m not big on portraits; rather, I focus on the unassuming, expansive and diverse essence of nature. I suppose it is a pictorial representation of my general view on life, in that I am not a ‘black and white’ thinker but rather a ‘big picture’ thinker, finding it oftentimes difficult to dissect situations down to simple choices. When it comes to religion, though, everything eventually comes down to simple choices. Do I believe in God, or don’t I? Did Jesus die on the cross for me, or didn’t he? Should I sin, or shouldn’t I? And so on and so forth. One of the easiest differentiations is between darkness and light. No light, light. Easy. God is in the light, so we should be in the light. But we spend so much time in the darkness. Recently I’ve begun to realize something really rather obvious: God is in the darkness, too. If that’s true, when are we truly in darkness, and when are we ‘in the light’, when we’re surrounded by darkness?

My first foray into this exploration of God’s presence came with the reading of Psalm 139, which I think may be my favorite psalm. In a nutshell, this psalm is about the unknowable depth of God’s understanding of us. He knows us intimately. He has searched us. He knows what we will say before the words reach our tongues. It says, ‘Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.’ I think that many people, when they first read this, would inherently think: creepy. I admit I did, when I first read it. But why should it be? After all, he is our creator; he should know us intimately. As the psalm also states, ‘For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.’ At the end of the psalm, the psalmist comes to full understanding of God’s depth and power, he harnesses it and uses it as a tool for greater knowledge and deeper love. He says, ‘Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’ Oh, that this would be at the heart of our prayers!

The one line that hit me hardest in this psalm is at verse 11: ‘If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.’ At creation, God separated the darkness from the light, the night from the day. This means, of course, that both coexisted in the same space previously, a concept we simply cannot comprehend.

A few years ago, I was struggling through my own personal demons in a very real and painful way. In the course of my struggle I often found myself alone, depressed and in the dark. And it felt good. Even now (and I believe most people can identify with this) I find it almost peaceful to retreat into a dark place, into aloneness and melancholy. There’s something comforting about it. This comfort led me to believe that it’s a trap that ensares many people into never leaving the dark, that it keeps them from ever venturing into the light, into freedom. But what if, sometimes, God is venturing into our darkness, meeting us there and bringing comfort to us, romancing us to Him in the dark? I’m not saying this happens this way every time, for certainly depression and isolation are oftentimes degenerative to one’s growth. But God is always there too, right? We are never really alone.

One of the books I’m currently reading is ‘Praying the Lord’s Prayer for Spiritual Breakthrough’, by Elmer T. Towns (who, coincidentally, was a founder and vice president of Liberty University where Peggy and other friends attended college). In it, he relates the story of when he visited Mt. Rushmore late at night, just missing the spotlights normally illuminating the presidents’ faces. This particular night, in the pitch blackness, there was a lightning storm. And Elmer was drawn into worship. ‘That evening my sanctuary was the observation platform at Mt. Rushmore. God’s prompting was his lightning.’ As each flash of lightning revealed more features of the presidents’ faces, Elmer was discovering the many names of God and how each name reveals a different aspect, or role, of God’s character.

‘The blackness between flashes of light seemed even blacker. Maybe it was because when we see God’s light, everything else is night. Just as “night unto night sheweth knowledge” (Ps. 19:2), so the blackness of Rushmore illuminated for me the golden glow of God. The lightning storm passed over Rushmore and the flashes became less frequent, but God is eternal light. I felt comfortable in the darkness because “The darkness He called Night” (Gen. 1:5).’

Darkness for us is never darkness for God, because darkness is as light to him. He’s present, and His presence brings holiness into the dark. I’ve been trying for years to run in the opposite direction every time I feel the pull of the darkness, into those moments of isolation and aloneness. What if I was resisting His pull, into a quiet space where He can romance me and reveal more of Himself to me? What if, all of those times I found comfort and peace in the dark, I was feeling His comfort and peace without knowing it, instead of the trap of sin and decay that I had previously viewed it as? Surely sometimes that is truly what I am feeling, but if God is in the dark, and if where He is is holy ground, then even in those truly dark moments I can choose to see the Light that is also present.

(I’m now going to tag onto this a topic that I have no intimate experience with and won’t until I get married, but seems prudent to share particularly as all of these seemingly unrelated readings have simultaneously converged upon me with intertwined revelations and I feel inclined to include it)

The gist of all of this is really that we should be striving ceaselessly to discover and be romanced, known intimately and know intimately, God. M. Scott Peck, in ‘Further Along the Road Less Travelled’, another book I’m reading, talks about sex and how it is one of the physical acts that brings us closest to God. This acutely happens in the orgasmic experience. ‘Once we reach those heights we actually lose the awareness of our partner. At that brief peak point of little death, we forget who we are and where we are. And in a very real sense, I think, this is because we have left this earth and entered God’s country… So the sexual experience is potentially religious. Is the religious experience sexual?’ This, to me, is yet just another example of the ways in which we are being drawn to God in every experience, even (and maybe most especially) in the dark. Peck states that ‘if it is the best possible orgasm you are after, then the best way to achieve it is with someone who is deeply beloved to you.’ Shouldn’t God be deeply beloved to us? As I mentioned, this subject is uncomfortable to me because of my inexperience with it. But am I really that inexperienced? Like that abandonment of self and place when we achieve orgasm, don’t we completely lose ourselves in God when in worship and prayer? Well, we should, anyway. This of course brings to mind Song of Songs, basically a deeply romantic, sensual duet between God and us. As Peck mentions, ‘I don’t believe it is an accident that throughout history most of the very best erotic poetry has been written by monks and nuns.’ The example he gives is ‘Dark Night’, by Saint John of the Cross. An excerpt:

‘O guiding night! O night more lovely than the dawn! O night that has united the Lover with his beloved, transforming the beloved into her Lover.’

(I find it ironic how prevalent this poem’s title and content is to my earlier subject material, don’t you?)

So sex is a distinctly physical experience, done in the dark, which brings us into God’s kingdom each time we reach the pinnacle. Sex is a holy experience. Even atheists say, ‘Oh, God!’ when they achieve orgasm.

 I can’t wait to get married, for a multitude of reasons. I’m really looking forward to my wedding night, not only because of the physical act that will take place but because of the inescapable holiness and inexpressible love I will experience. To be with my beloved, my wife, and with my Beloved, my God, in the dark. To experience the light.

There are questions, questions with simple answers: Am I alone, or am I not? Am I being romanced, or am I not? Am I in darkness, or am I in light? Can I experience God? No, you are not alone. Yes, you are forever being romanced. You are in darkness, but the darkness is as light to God so through Him you are really in light. You’ve already experienced God, and you are now. I’m only beginning to understand the ways that He is with me. I struggle to find Him in the dark even though I know He is there. It’s a simple choice, the choice to see Him and interpret the comfort as His comfort, the peace as His peace, the aloneness as aloneness with Him. I’m learning to blend the dark and light, to understand an iota of what Genesis 1 meant, to recognize that He is in it all, that there is no escaping Him. I’m beginning to understand that an act that for so many isolates them from God also brings them immediately into His presence. As I said at the beginning of the post, I am a ‘big picture’ person. But sometimes, there is no big picture. No gray. Sometimes there is only you and God. Do you choose to see Him, or don’t you?

‘Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Flying and Serenity


Good evening, friends! It’s been another wonderful couple of weeks for me here and I’m excited to catch you all up on my adventures!

First off, I’ve been absolutely loving the babies I play with in the mornings. One of the best moments was when I walked in and they immediately smiled and ran up to play; they are beginning to recognize me and I’ve been able to pick up on their distinct personalities and am more able to respond appropriately. These moments only reinforce my decision to stay for a longer duration than most volunteers, so that I may have a lasting influence and provide more stability in the kids’ lives. I think that is extremely important to the overall welfare of them, especially with building a strong moral compass. I think  that is one of the more difficult aspects of this work, because in India and Tibet beating is a common reaction of caregivers, for even the smallest things. We actually had a conversation the other day with the full-time staff, and they were amazed that we don’t do the same, and would even get punished for it. Trying to work within that confine, then, is difficult but I think we do a good job.

I had been a little stressed recently about my ‘office’ work in the afternoons, but I have graciously been given reprieve from that with the news that Rogpa does, in fact, already have enough books for the library they want to open in less than a month. The work that I am doing is simply to get the entire scope of Tibetan children’s literature that’s available for them. With this in mind, then, I’ve decided to expand my project a bit for them and make an index of the literature they do have, compare it with the database I’m currently making, and procure a simple list for them of the remaining books they need. In the meantime, the building the library will be in should be completed (no, it’s not complete yet, but the skeleton from last week has at least been filled in) in two weeks, which means we have less than two weeks to paint, decorate and populate the library with furniture and books in time for the grand opening. I’m also doing some extra projects for Pema and Young, particularly coming up with info blurbs that will be on the tags of products they sell in the Rogpa café and shop, and my current project: contacting a publisher for the rights to use the words and artwork in one of their books in order to make postcards of Tibetan proverbs written in Tibetan and English. In fact, I’m also compiling a separate list in conjunction with my literature list, of all of the publishing companies of the books I already have compiled. So far, I’m at close to forty companies. Once all the literature is documented, I will contact each of these companies, list the books we already have documented, and request info for any more they might have. There’s also the matter of seeking collaboration on illustration projects from Tibetan artists, etc. Basically, I have my hands full. And I couldn’t be happier. My first couple of weeks here really felt like vacation, but it’s wonderful to have realized my purpose here and be spending the time to fulfill that purpose. I truly believe this is where I am meant to be and that these are the people I’m meant to help. My work is making a great difference, and I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to help.

In other news…. Today, I leapt off a mountain and flew.

My friends and I are currently in Bir, the ‘paragliding capital of India’, and also the home of Dawa’s family. Bir is essentially a village in a valley, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. We arrived Friday evening and took a walk out of the village, into the tea fields and just soaked in the sunset behind the peaks. This place is serenity exemplified. It’s so quiet. As ridiculous as this sounds, Bir is to Dharamsala, as Dharamsala is to Delhi. Delhi is just a cacophony of noise, odor, and filth. Dharamsala is quieter, less smelly, and slightly cleaner. With mountains. Bir is silent, pure of air and pristine by comparison. It screams nature; it screams holiness; it screams God. Oh, to live here. But I can’t do that; rather, I don’t know if I will ever be back. Part of me wants to say that I absolutely will, and a greater part of me hints that I never will. The girls are just as captivated as I am, perhaps even more enchanted, especially with the array of massive temples here (seriously; the Dalai Lama should move here. I have no idea why he’s in Mcleod Ganj when he could be in a place like this.), and they’re already making plans, clamoring to get back here. I understand, but I almost feel that, for myself, I’d be cheapening the experience, not really soaking in every moment, if I knew I’d be coming back. To think of it as a one-time experience forces you to embrace every moment and drink in as much as possible, and I don’t want to reserve anything for later. No. I want to fill myself up with the sacredness of nature here, and spill it out onto every natural canvass I encounter; seek out the most mundane shrub or small hill and recognize, fully, that the same hand made all of it, that every leaf and blade of grass bears the mark of holiness.

So, flying. Today I experienced my first ever ‘extreme sport’: paragliding. There are not enough words to describe what it feels like to leap off of a mountain (literally) and soar for forty-five minutes of bliss. And for only $30! It costs the same to do the same thing in Dharamsala, but for only 15 minutes and off a hill. Waiting was a good life choice. I have to admit something here: I have exactly one great fear: heights. Naturally (or unnaturally, depending on who you are), I’ve worked for years to overcome this fear by climbing trees, big rocks, and other larger structures I won’t mention. Today, there was no fear. Driving the half-hour up the mountain, I felt only excitement. And the time to jump came so quickly and suddenly I didn’t have time to be afraid; there was just running and then nothing beneath my feet. I wouldn’t say I’ve conquered that fear, but the only word to describe today is exhilaration. Yes, I took videos, even one of my landing which was absolutely perfect; I didn’t fall or anything. I’ll post them soon. Pictures as well. Truly amazing.

I am officially done with seven weeks of volunteering, which means only nine more! Almost halfway home.

Thanks for reading another long post, and I hope this sincerely finds you happy and well! If there are any prayer concerns on your mind, please feel free as always to send me a message or email. I’d love to be praying for you.

Take care, and have a wonderful day!

In peace,

Aaron

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Daddy Training and Faith

Hello friends,

It has been a little while since I last posted and, once again, so much has been experienced that I hardly know where to begin. As I mentioned in my last post, this week has been one of transitions: every two weeks, generally, a new batch of volunteers shows up to work in their respective serving stints, and often this also means the end for new-made friends who are leaving to continue travelling or head home. This week, seven new volunteers arrived, and one is leaving tomorrow. There is not enough room for all of us in Dolma’s house, so Dawa has found a new host family to accommodate everyone. Somehow, amazingly, it works out yet again that I have a room to myself and that I don’t have to move at all. Considering the vast amount of souvenirs (and random awesomesauce things for myself, of course!) that I’ve bought, I don’t relish the notion of having to move all of that elsewhere.

On that note, I am officially done with all of my souvenir buying so from now on I’m Cheapskate Chuck (yes, I did just make that up. I’m clever.). I have certain things in my future back home to hold into account, and I’m working very hard to set a weekly budget for food and stick to it in order to maintain realistic goals. The fact that six large oranges cost 50r, or about one dollar U.S., it’s safe to say that my budget is small and I can save a lot of moneys for the futures. That makes me very happy, and very excited too. I am not ashamed to say that I have legit bought pairs of handmade Tibetan wool socks for my future children. (Awww moment.) I have gotten many, many other neat things too so people should be getting excited for the amazingness coming their way. No, Dad, I didn’t forget you.

In the past week, I have seen the Dalai Lama twice more. The first of these two times, we went to the temple and he was sitting in an upper chamber surrounded by monks, chanting and chuckling. There was a never-ending procession of people bringing a variety of things up to the Dalai Lama to be blessed, which means that they basically processed in front of him and his very presence sufficed for purification in their eyes. We did not get to partake in that procession because we didn’t have passes, but we did circumnavigate the room he was in (in clockwise order of course, as is the way of everything in the Buddhist religion) and saw him clearly. Then we squeezed our way through the throngs of people down into the open teaching area, and a little while later he came down the stairs and passed less than 15 feet from us. It was nice. The second time, we showed up at the temple about 6:30am to listen to the Dalai Lally give ‘blessings’ at 8:30. We got excellent seats because of our early arrival time. When I say seats, I mean that we had excellent square foot squares on the concrete ground, surrounded and squished in on all sides. We were less than 50 feet away and had a clear view. Low points first: he spoke in Tibetan the whole time, so we didn’t understand anything he said… and it lasted three and a half hours. We didn’t stand up once. High points: the Dalai Lama’s funny (that’s for you, Paige!), Tibetans are extremely nice people, and we got fed tasty rice dishes.

 It is fascinating to watch the devotion that these people have for someone they consider a living god. Though I must, being Christian, ultimately disagree with them on many points, I greatly admire their principle and dedication to their religion. If only we Christians were so bold and focused! What would our lives look like if we prayed in public, read our Bibles on the subway and sang songs of praise in the streets daily? How could we change our community if we proudly got our Jesus freak on in public, and truly sought to live God-pleasing and Christ-like lives? We all pray for it, but what does that actually mean? What does it look like? It can’t be just going to church on Sunday and reading the Bible faithfully. The Word is our foundation, definitely, but are we actually using it as such? After all, it was everything for the Pharisees, and look how they behaved, how they treated Jesus. Do you read the Bible, underline a convicting line or two, then go about your day normally? Is that normalcy? Getting frustrated with the simplest things, thinking self-centeredly, praying for fifteen minutes max at bedtime and calling it good? What is normalcy supposed to look like in the Christian life? In Buddhism, they say that if you let even an ounce of anger or frustration enter your mind, years of meditation and focus on peace are wiped away and you start over again. These monks are extraordinarily dedicated, and some of the nicest (and funniest) people I’ve ever met. Their entire lives are centered around compassion, in the footsteps of their Buddha. Can you imagine that? We get angry and frustrated every day. What would our days be like if we constantly sought out peace? You can say all you want that it’s impossible, and I am acutely aware, as I said before, that Buddhism is centered on the wrong guy. In fact, Buddhists are by nature extremely self-centered, as the ultimate goal is to let go of any attachments in this life in order to reach Samsara. For all of their compassion, they are acting on selfish principles. But why don’t I see Christians with that kind of mindset? Are we not seeking to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, the Prince of Peace? Why haven't I upholded that, myself?
Le sigh...

In other news… I have finally started my original intended volunteer placement this week, and I could not be more thrilled. Unfortunately, I am not going to be working with Tibetan monks in the Dalai Lama’s temple after all, but that doesn’t dissuade me too much: I’m learning how to be a daddy. I get to spend every morning, for four hours, with Tibetan babies. It’s very tiring, but extremely rewarding. Then, in the afternoon, I have a truly unique opportunity: I'm helping doing research in the Rogpa office. This means that I get to go to other institutions in the area on behalf of Rogpa and interview their librarians about different aspects of their programs. This will include the kind of Tibetan books they have and how many, how they receive their books and that process, the process of loaning and other managerial things. Rogpa can then use the info for reference when they build up their library. I'm also going to attempt to get an estimate of the entire scope of Tibetan children’s literature  and folk tales that is out there for use. Then we're going to interview the elderly Tibetan community here in Mcleod Ganj. If they have stories that have only been passed down orally and never written down, we will transcribe them and compile new books of previously unpublished material. The end goal is to make a 'moveable' library that goes to different locations, collects cultural literature and also distributes the same, in an effort to preserve the Tibetan culture in a form that allows Tibetan children to understand their heritage. The whole process will last much longer than my duration here I'm sure, but anything I can do to help I can and will do. I feel I have a personal hand in helping to preserve a nation’s dying culture. Between this and the childcare in the mornings, I can’t think of a better way to be spending my time here. I am truly blessed to be given such placements, and I hope that I will be able to make a lasting difference.

As this is getting very long, I’m going to wrap it up. I have much more to tell, so another blog post will be up in a couple of days. Thanks for reading, and for your continued prayerful support. As always, please let me know, either in a private comment or through fb message, how I can be praying for you.

In peace,

Aaron

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Goodbyes and Hellos

Hello all!

So much has happened since my last post, and so much is yet to come. I hope this finds all of you doing well and having your own, unique experiences wherever you are. Remember, you can have an extraordinary experience every day, if you know how to look at things.

This past week  and a half, my friends and I have spent volunteering in lower Dharamsala at an Indian childcare program down there. It's a 15-20 minute ride down the mountain, and though I'm used to it now the trip is really a game of 'get as close as you can to pedestrians without hitting them...' The road is narrow and there are constant switchbacks. It's a wild ride, to be sure. Don't worry, I took a video this morning to remember the experience. The daycare itself is a one-room deal, literally. There is a table to set your bags on and a couple of benches, and the far side of the room is largely off-limits to the kids. There are a few 'toys' hanging from the walls, but we are forbidden from taking them down so the kids can play with them. We think that perhaps they have so few nice things there that the teacher and her assistant, an older lady who comes accross as pretty mean much of the time (she's been known to hit a kid or two) but then finds some things hilarious and has a delightful little cackle, are reluctant to let the kids demolish what they do have (sorry for the runon sentence). There are posters of the alphabet, numbers, body parts and other charts on the walls which are mighty useful, and we do have one ball that we use sparingly with the kids too. The whole thing has been a very interesting experience. All of the kids are adorable in their own way, but there are a few we lovingly call 'devil children' (aren't there always). The 'hitting' method runs rampant in Indian culture, and it shows in our daycare. Even the sweetest child will punch another kid in the face if he/she doesn't get their way, and I've watched them abuse and kick the two stray puppies who hang around outside the building multiple times. It's very frustrating, because I want to teach correct behavior but I know that, realistically, it's a lost cause. Many of the children are very intelligent, and it shows in the way they studiously complete the exercises their teacher prepares for them in their notebooks. Overall, it's been a great experience and I'm sad to leave the kids (especially the ones who have taken so long to open up), but tomorrow is our last day there.

Speaking of last days, the last member of my original group from Delhi, Suzie, left this evening. It was a very sad goodbye, and I am especially sad to see her go because I think I bonded with her more than any of the others. Not that they weren't all fantastic people, but Suzie and I clicked really well and have experienced the most together. Peggy and I will most certainly be visiting Suzie and her boyfriend in Quebec someday! (Hear that, Suzie? Be prepared for awesomesauce.) I feel very much like I am in transition mode today: new people have come in, one placement is ending and new experiences are beginning. I know that those are the tides of life, and I am truly excited for this next stage in the adventure, but there is always a sense of loss that accompanies saying goodbye to friends and places of comfort. There is always a sense of foreboding, of the unknown, when you venture into new experiences, but if you don't leap into the fray with your colors on your sleeve, what are you really doing with your life? I hope, as I've said before, that I am always displaying my colors proudly, and that the path I tread towards Christ would be well-seen and duly noted by others. It has been my greatest striving, this whole trip, to lead by example and show what a true Christian thinks, believes, and acts like. Hopefully my actions and behavior have glorified Him.

In the past two weeks, I have seen the Dalai Lama, witnessed angry Tibetans burn the Chinese flag, eaten delicious (and deliciously cheap) street food, shared a hard cider or two and enjoyed good times with some excellent people. Now, I look forward to this weekend and beyond: Tomorrow afternoon, Dawa, myself, the three new girls here and a group of Tibetan students studying German, are leaving Dharamsala to go experience a Buddhist pilgrimage south of Bir. Dawa hasn't been since he was a boy, and invited us to go along with him. Apparently a large aspect of it will be centered around meditation, which I am fine with. I could use a few hours of alone time with God. We are going to stay with Dawa's parents one night, and hopefully find a hotel room the next one, or two, nights. We don't actually know. It's a huge pilgrimage, so many people are participating and rooms are hard to find. However, I don't think we're coming back to Dharamsala until Saturday or Sunday. I'm really looking forward to it! It will be very interesting, and I get to have a sneak peek at Bir, where I'll be spending the last three or four weeks of my placement. There is a Tibetan monastery there, and I'll be teaching young Buddhist monks English. I hear it's an even nicer, more peaceful locale than Dharamsala so I'm certainly looking forward to that.

After we get back to Dharamsala, we start the 'real' volunteering, with Rogpa again. It will be a 'baby daycare' program, up to age 3, so I'm STOKED about starting! It's going to be a wild time, I just know it. Plus, March 10 marks the 53rd anniversary of the Dalai Lama's retreat to India from Tibet, and he will be giving a speech. There will also be, we hear, a massive demonstration of some sort.

Thank you for catching up with me! I'll post more pictures soon I'm sure. Please continue to pray for me, those I work with and those we are serving. So many people need the light of Christ in their lives here. I wish to continue being an example of what following that light looks like, and your uplifting prayers are much appreciated in that endeavor. Please also let me know how I can be praying for you! Send me a private message, or a fb message, or an email. I am happy to do whatever I can for you.

Take care all!

From Dharamsala,

Aaron

Monday, February 20, 2012

Tibet Burning

Good morning everyone,

I promised you a blog post about my first week in Dharamsala, and this is to be that post, but the events I experienced tonight have made me alter the last portion of the post to reflect the incredible, and incredibly horrifying, events of the evening.

Warning: there will be a video of a flag burning; it was not a riot, but might seem like one. Don't worry; I was in no danger.

First, the week until tonight:

The ride into Dharamsala took a little over 11 hours and was bumpy the entire way. Thank goodness we shelled out for the nice bus! I don't want to think what condition the other three types of buses could have been in. For their purposes, though, the drivers were exemplary I thought, and we even received free 1L bottles of water before we set off. Somehow, I managed to sleep most of the way through (aside from the moments I was jerked forward but a massive lurch of the bus).

Dharamsala is absolutely breathtaking. A view from the road I traverse every day:


... and that's not even a picture of the mountains to the east, which are spectacular!

The tent structure that you see on the bottom left of the bottom picture is the Dalai Lama's temple complex, and just past that is his residence. Part of me still can't believe that I'm living here. It's crazy.

I walk up and down steep hills multiple times a day, so I'm certainly getting my exercise and have already lost some weight. The people here are very friendly, and Mcleod Ganj is a very small town so it doesn't  take long to get places. In some ways, it is very similar to Delhi. There is still rampant trash everywhere, dogs are everywhere and a few cows straggle around too. In many other respects, it's completely different: the air is much, much cleaner, the moisture on the ground is more often rainwater than urine, and the population is dominated by Tibetans and Buddhist monks in red robes. We are staying with Dawa's cousin, who is married and has a 12/13 yr. old son named Balin (most likely not how it's spelled, but it's pronounced 'Buh-lin' and the LoTR dwarf Balin popped into my head as a wonderful pnemonic device) and a 2 1/2 month old terror named Jordan, who loves to throw things and shoot at you with cards. They are a lovely family, and have breakfast and dinner ready for us every day. Tonight, our host family dad made dinner: a soup with gnocci-style pasta and these delicous sweet-tasting little red things I later found out were ghoma(toma?), which it turns out is a root grown in Tibet and brought over. I'm hoping I can find some in the market to bring back home, because it was a rare treat.

As for my volunteering, everything has become a little convoluted because we arrived just as the biggest Tibetan holiday of the year, their new year Losar, so the childcare program we were going to be working with is closed for 3 weeks. Our weeks have thus been split between different organizations: this past week we assisted with a 5-day daycamp program for the Tibetan group Rogpa, which was finished up today. Starting tomorrow, we spend the rest of this week taking a taxi down to lower Dharamsala to help at a daycare program down there and then next week, I'm not sure. My longterm plan is to stay here in Dharamsala with the childcare program I'll eventually get to for three months, and then I'm going to transfer to Bir (about 2 1/2 hours away) to teach English to Tibetan monk children aged 7-19. Here's the thing about all of this, though: I don't know any Tibetan. My Hindi has not found much use up here. So, I bought a book today aptly titled 'Speak Tibetan Like a Tibetan', and am going to teach myself to speak Tibetan in the next three months. The children, thankfully, know some English and conversing with them isn't too difficult, but the monks don't know any English or Hindi. I think this book will become invaluable. As a side note, I also bought a book of Tibetan Folk Tales I'm absolutely stoked to read.

I received a rare opportunity the other day: Pema, the founder of Rogpa, asked me if I would be willing to write an article in the free Dharamsala newspaper about the organization, in an attempt to 'get the word out'. I wrote it today, and am quite happy with it. I'm going to hand it over to her in two days and hope it goes over well. I'm going to have something published in a newspaper in Dharamsala, India! Definitely bringing a copy of that (or two, or twenty) home with me.

This post is becoming very long, so I'm going to try to end it soon here. First, though, I need to get out what I experienced tonight. Since I've been in Dharamsala, there have been two candlelight vigils held to bring attention to the atrocities happening in Tibet by the Chinese. The first one I made it to and walked around the town with the crowd and my own little candle lit, then headed home after a bit. Tonight, my friends and I went to the second one, and I ended up staying through the whole thing. After the very long procession that went around town multiple times, the crowd gathered down in the same courtyard where we held our Rogpa activities.

At first, we were overlooking the courtyard. The showed a 15 minute video that contained both photographic and videographic footage of monks self-immolating (putting themselves on fire). It was gruesome and heartwrenching. After the video ended, I left the others and made my way down into the courtyard, where the leader of the candlelight vigil was speaking emphatically. Shortly after he ended, a woman took the mic and spoke in English about the videos. She brought up the question of why a person would commit suicide when, even in Buddhism, it is one of the most horrendous acts against the self. Here is her speech:



After she spoke... they burned a massive Chinese flag in the ultimate symbol of defiance. Here is that video:




I was speechless. Still am a bit. It was such a powerful moment, such a powerful evening. After the burning of the Chinese flag, there was a short 'thank you' to everyone who showed up to support the movement, and then they handed out a limited number of pamphlets. Luckily, I was able to grab one. The title is 'Tibet Burning', and inside is a horrifying booklet that's a 'factsheet' of every monk who has self-immolated, including details before, during, and after the act. Some details include Chinese police beating burning monks with sticks with nails on the end, not even bothering to put the flames out. In others, the Chinese police forbade the gathered crowd to weep or mourn for the monk who had died in front of their eyes, and stated they would haul away those who did. Such heinous, deplorable acts. Also in the pamphlet is a statement from the organization and a petition to the World Leaders... as well as a copy of the DVD they earlier showed of the monks self-immolating. I actually received two of those. I have in my hands two copies of extremely rare footage of monks setting themselves on fire and dieing for a purpose much larger than themselves. People risked their lives (some died) to get this footage out. Now I have two copies. My hands are shaking as I write this.

Friends, I hope you have been staying with me throughout this post, and that you feel as revolted and shocked as I am feeling. Hopefully, this draws attention to a wider audience of these inhumane acts being commited in a defenseless country. If you would like more information, please head to www.tibetanyouthcongress.org. That is the name of the organization who put this pamphlet out. Please keep the Tibetan people in your hearts and minds, and most definitely in your prayers. They are in great need of God.

I must go now, but hopefully I'll have another post up in a week or so (probably sooner rather than later). Take care all, and goodnight from Dharamsala!

In peace,

Aaron

Friday, February 17, 2012

The Unpreparedness of Sudden Purpose

WARNING: This is NOT a blog post about my first week in Dharamsala. That one is coming soon, but this is a special one about an absolutely unforgettable experience I had last night. Also, this post is very long... but it's full of juicy stuff!

As I mentioned, this all happened last night. I was so overwhelmed by everything that I had to get up early this morning just to write it all down so I wouldn't forget anything. After this experience, I must say that I truly feel like a missionary in a foreign land for the first time. It's terrifying. And thrilling, amazing, and feels a little bit ludicrous too. But doors are being opened in front of me, and I must go through.

I don't know how to begin this, so I'll just dive in.

Suzie and I were catching up on the day when Dawa (our IVHQ coordinator here in Dharamsala) and his friend, a very charismatic and engaging Tibetan, came in. When I asked his name, the man said ‘Bond. James Bond.’ and said he was from England. This was his type of humor, and he used it all night. Really a very funny, likeable guy. I never found out his real name, so I’ll just call him James as I did last night.

After a while of talking about unrelated topics (during which time Eddie and Sara got home and joined us), James started talking passionately about Tibet. As it turns out, he had come back from visiting Tibet for the first time only two months ago. James was born in India and grew up here, but visited his home country for the first time for two months. He said that getting into Tibet wasn’t difficult and that he had to get permission from the Chinese government as well as carry a piece of paper which stated clearly that he was a Tibetan from India. However, he said that paper meant nothing in China and that he feared for his life. Truly, he was not sure he would make it out alive because it’s extremely dangerous for a Tibetan to have come from India to Tibet, as the Chinese know then that his family had fled at some point in time and could us that knowledge as grounds for annihilation. He could easily have been killed. Killed. KILLED.
James said that, in China, rules and laws concerning Tibet are only ceremonial and that Tibetans really have no power. China has all the power, and there is no space for Tibet to move. Tibet never had a large military, and James said the border between Tibet and India used to be ‘the most peaceful, with only 75 policemen protecting the border’. Now, he said, there are tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers guarding the border. In the last ten years, it is estimated that at least 1 million Tibetans have been killed. James and Dawa explained that the Dalai Lama, as the political as well as religious seat of power in Tibet, has had numerous talks with China and that there is little leeway being given for Tibetan rights by the Chinese government. The Dalai Lama is asking that Tibet remain under Chinese rule, but be allowed to cultivate their heritage and way of life. He cannot ask that Tibet be autonomous of Chinese rule because that is simply impossible and they would be wiped out easily. The only choice really is the aforementioned request, but even that is not proving fruitful as the Chinese government is requiring that Tibet ‘acknowledge’ two things: 1, that Tibet has always been under Chinese rule, and 2, that Tibet acknowledge that Taiwan is under Chinese rule. The Dalai Lama cannot acquiesce because firstly, he cannot change history which shows blatantly that Tibet was not before under Chinese rule and secondly because he cannot speak for Taiwan. Hence, he cannot meet their demands and they will not move. Right now, it seems they are at an impass.

James said that, when he visited his home country for that first time, he felt two things very strongly: great joy at seeing the home of his people and great sadness. The sight of his country brought him to tears; it was almost magical. I am amazed that he made it out of Tibet alive, to be honest. We cannot comprehend what that type of persecution must be like, and we tried  to express what we were feeling to James and Dawa last night. James explained that he knew how difficult a situation it must be for us, because our countries (America especially) understands the moral abomination happening in Tibet but cannot do anything because of our dependence on China for goods and our indebtedness to them. It’s extremely frustrating to me, that our country can well see what is happening but is fairly powerless to do anything, and moreso that we are in fact supporting China financially. James quoted multiple occasions where American governmental heads have expressed support and sympathy for Tibet and anger towards China (Nancy Pelosi, Obama, etc.), and did not hold us responsible for our countries’ actions. In fact, he pointed out that when you cannot do what needs to be done at the national level, you can still work at the individual level and truly, that is what we are doing here. That was encouraging to hear, knowing that I can still make a difference for these people in my own capacity here during my visit to India.
Things are looking worse, though: James and Dawa told us that, four days ago, China prohibited any foreign media inside Tibet. No foreign newspapers, cameras, etc. This is largely because the anniversary of the date the Dalai Lama fled from Tibet is in March and that is the day the Tibetans have their largest riots. Basically, the Chinese government doesn't want the world to see how they react/behave on that day. My guess is that many more Tibetans will be slaughtered.

James (he liked to talk) then started talking about religion and stated that he is not very Buddhist because he prefers to rely on reason. He is one of those people who have looked at all of the horrible things that have been done in the name of religion and become disenchanted. However, he did wax heavily on the points of Buddhism that talk about how people should live their lives, essentially those ‘right’ ways of treating others and morality issues and such. I suddenly found an opening where I could share about my religion and faith. I firstly brought up the empathy I felt with James, in that I am all too aware of the many ways ‘Christians’ have abused our religion to do horrible, mindless acts on others. I conveyed that I understand the propensity of many people, then, to call us hypocrites and say that our religion is meaningless, that if we truly believed and followed our religion we wouldn’t behave these ways. On one hand, they’re totally right in their reactions to those situations. Heck, even if you go back to the Bible (which you always should), the Old Testament has multiple occasions where God instructs his followers to kill and pillage. How do you justify that? On the other hand, those people are wrong in generalizing us because of a few crazies. I get their frustration, but hopefully most of us are truly trying to live God-pleasing lives and hopefully those people would recognize that.

I didn’t go into some of that with James, but I did express my empathy and then talked about the Fruit of the Spirit, and about Jesus, and how a central aim for Christians is to strive to lead lives that are as close to Jesus Christ’s as possible. All of a sudden, I was being a witness of my faith to a room full of people, and it felt so good, so natural. We found common ground in this talk, in the points of both religious teachings that paralleled, and hopefully it opened the door for further conversations about religion down the road.
(By the way, if you want to know more about the struggle in Tibet and the monks who have been self-immolating in defiance of Chinese persecution, the fb group 'Students for a Free Tibet', is chock full of information which they update regularly. I've been a subscriber for more than a year now.)

Before all of this happened, though, there was another experience that I was also not prepared for at all. When James and Dawa first came into the room, Dawa sat by me and James by Suzie so naturally I started talking with Dawa. Dawa, by the way, must be only a few years older than me. He’s single and our host family mother, Dolma, is actually his cousin (I thought he said she was his sister at first, but in India and Tibet they often call cousins their brother or sister) so he’s here quite often. Interestingly enough, I found out tonight that the host family in Bir, where I’ll be going in a few months for my last volunteering stint, are his parents. I guess it’s a family business! Anyway, Dawa asked me what I was studying in school, so I told him psychology. I then had to explain the difference between psychologists and psychiatrists to him, but as soon as I did he said, ‘I can be your first patient!’, and completely unloaded on me. He talked about having taken a drug four years ago to ‘cure’ something that gave him hallucinations, and since then he’s had these uncontrollable fears about death, going to new places by himself, and being in new places with other people, as well as a few other things. Then he asked what I thought all of that meant. I spent at least a half hour with him, asking questions and trying to find out more information so I’d have something to start with. I gave him a few basic instructions, such as to stay away from funky drugs, think realistically about the fact of death but positively about his day-to-day living and some breathing instructions. I asked about the possibility of getting psychiatric help here, and he said that there are really only people down in Delhi and that they are too expensive. He said that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to go to someone and get real help, so he was pleading with me to help him. How can I not? I told him I would do my best to research his ailments and come up with possible scenarios, and I also said that we should continue to talk about all of this, try to probe deeper.

I feel completely inadequate for this. I never expected that I would be serving this way whilst over here. Serving children, yes. Having some conversations about faith with my fellow volunteers, sure. But talking with a Tibetan about national struggles and religion? Being thrust headfirst into counseling sessions with my project coordinator? I don’t even know where to begin. I’m not qualified for this. I haven’t had any training. I think I’m beginning to recognize the fact that I am a true missionary here. I think I’m beginning to understand God’s voice, telling me that I have a lot of time here and that He’s going to make sure I’m using it fully for Him. Last night, He was yelling in my heart. I’m scared, really, to be doing these things. However, I have great comfort in knowing that God has placed me in these situations to do the best I can, to stretch me and stretch others through me. I know that God does not give me more than I can handle and that I will be OK. I just pray I have the strength to keep up, that I don’t fall behind or become complacent and fall into the trap of believing that I’m not cut out for this. Please, folks, pray for me as I’m being confronted by these unexpected challenges. It would mean so much, and I need strength. Pray also for Tibet, while you're at it. They could use some compassion.
Take care, all. 
Peace,
Aaron

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Catch-ups and Highlights


Greetings, all, from Dharamsala in the Himalayan mountains! It has been over a week since I’ve posted, which means I have a lot to catch you up on including all of orientation week. For the sake of time and brevity, I have decided to focus on my thoughts during the past week more than on the actual events, though they will certainly be mentioned.

For how much I and my fellow volunteers have experienced this past week, there has been certain passivity to our day-to-day activities. Every day had something specific planned as part of our orientation week, as you could see by referencing my previous note on that. Some days we went sightseeing to specific places around Delhi, some days we had Hindi lessons. Mostly, though, we were given plenty of free time to do as we wish. This worked out quite well I think, as we had space and the opportunity to acclimate ourselves to India without being over-exposed in a short amount of time. I think that, if we had jumped right in, the culture shock would have been much worse but our easygoing days allowed elasticity and the opportunity to also get to know each other.

For much of Orientation Week, there were nine of us living together (the Fellowship, as I called us in my head a lot…yeah, that’s right. LoTR reference.). Four of the girls were doing Women’s Empowerment programs around Delhi: Natalie from San Francisco, Crystal and Heather from Canada, and Mathilde from France (her program is in Jaipur). Kathy from China was teaching English around Delhi, and Eddie, Sara, Suzie and I are all doing the Childcare program in Dharamsala. I developed a great fondness for our group throughout the week; I felt like we were sort of an archipelago of little nation islands clinging to each other in the sea of India, or something like that. There was an unspoken call for safety that we each enacted when walking places together, doing such things as surreptitiously checking every once in a while to make sure we were all together. Another unspoken rule we played out was the choice to walk in silence or the company of each other rather than playing our ipods or talking on the phone. We left space for each other to enter into conversation and respected one another that way. To be honest, while all of our sightseeing trips were fascinating and it was nice to see those hot spots of India, I think all of the volunteers would agree that the best moments came when we decided to go out on our own and make our own adventures together. As a group, we went into downtown Delhi twice; the first time to Connaught Place (a huge shopping district set in a wide circle) and the second time to an absolutely amazing bazaar, where we found quality items for very cheap prices. Our ventures closer to Ananta’s place, around Gurgaon, were exciting as well.

The monuments were very nice, but really they are mostly extravagant tombs. It’s a little creepy really, walking through the Taj Mahal with the knowledge that you’re actually in a mausoleum. It was beautiful, yes, and the 23 years of work that went into making it showed in the jewel-inlayed marble the tomb was made of. Afterwards, we even got the opportunity to go to a shop where they gave us an instruction class in how the work of setting jewels in marble happens. It’s a fascinating process, and takes so long! Depending on the number of stones, a kitchen table-sized tablet took them anywhere from nine to eleven years to complete. That just seems mind-boggling to me, and I’m amazed and so impressed at the guys who have the patience to do that kind of work.

Things I’ve learned:

1.                          Many more Canadians than Americans volunteer abroad this time of year. I guess our time is in summer, but right now it just looks the USA look sort of inhospitable.

2.                          Most Canadians don’t say ‘eh’, they say ‘hey’. It’s actually a noticeable difference!

3.                          Nahi danivad (no thankyou), is both very effective, and license to get laughed at by locals if you don’t know how to say it correctly. Really, just garbling everything in my mouth a little as the words come out makes them sound closer to the real thing.

4.                          Bartering is tough, and there are rules. Sometimes, there are fixed prices and you can’t bargain. Who knew?

5.                          Don’t go to the emporiums. You’ll only get ripped off.

6.                          The Indian National Zoo is the best zoo I’ve been to, but I’m judging that solely on the basis that all of the animals were out and about, coming right up to the fence. I was two feet from a jaguar. He looked hungry.

7.                          If you go to the Indian National Zoo (pronounced ‘ju’ in Hindi… fun!), you’re pretty much guaranteed an entourage. I think we were more exciting than the animals for the 5 or so guys who followed us the entire time.

8.                          The French might seem meek, but man do they like party music!

9.               Saying 'no' consistenly to beggars (especially the malnourished children) is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I hate it, but I have to.

10.                          Punjabi music is extremely fun, and gets in your head. Don’t worry; I downloaded an mp3 CD from our driver for the week, so I got 130+ Indian Punjabi songs free! Score.

11.                      Learning Hindi is tough, but exciting. Now, I’m trying to tackle learning Hindi AND Tibetan, so I can teach English to Tibetan monk children (aged 7-19) my last two (maybe one) months here when I transfer to Bir at the end of my volunteering stint.

12                      Monkeys are fun. And mischievous. Chalk that up for the children here, too.

13.                      Dogs are extraordinarily annoyingly loud at night when you’re trying to sleep. This nighttime warfare between the dogs and monkeys (they like to sit in trees and throw poop at the dogs. I’ve seen it.) needs to end. Or I need to invest in earplugs.

14.                      The people here are lovely and inviting. The children are so much fun, too!

15.                      The Himalayas are breathtaking. End of story.



Much more to come in a couple of days when I plan to blog again, especially about my first week in Dharamsala. So much has been experienced, and it’s difficult to believe I’m already into my volunteering! However, I’m having a blast and have been so blessed during my stay so far. I’ve met many new friends, seen once-in-a-lifetime sights, and I have the incredible opportunity to show the love of Christ to everyone I encounter (especially those kids!). It’s wonderful to be an example of outward-focused living in a world where so much is focused inward. Even if I can’t directly preach the Gospel to people, I know that I am living out the fruit of the Spirit daily by my actions  and demeanor. Please continue to pray for me as I start on my volunteering journey, that I may keep this points as the focus of my work. Pray for strength for me, as I continue to be challenged and stretched in myriad ways I can’t possibly yet unravel. Also, message me and let me know how I can be praying for you! I’m halfway around the world, but I hear prayer has excellent reception worldwide.



Take care all! Sorry for both the delay in posting and the relative briefness of my experiences. I’m sure there are tons of things I’ve left out, which I’ll remember in an hour when I don’t have internet access. Meanwhile, this is goodbye for now from McLeod Ganj!



Peace,



Aaron