10 DAYS OF SILENCE AND MEDITATION

Maybe all the travel had us stressed out, maybe too many yoga-loving people in India talked us into it, or maybe because we knew Julia Roberts did it in Eat, Pray, Love (Kip denies any knowledge of this last bit), we decided to enroll in a 10-day Vipassana meditation course. 

Before you go buying us Kool-Aid or a ticket on the Hale-Bopp spaceship, understand that we knew little about the course beforehand, other than it involved a vow of complete silence and lots of sitting still in deep thought. And no, in case you're wondering, neither of us had ever meditated before.

Liz's home for 12 days.

But we were optimistic. The course would take place in the holy site of Bodh Gaya, where prince Siddhartha Gautama became "The Buddha" and found enlightenment while meditating under a Bodhi tree. We figured if a regular person could become Buddha here through meditation, maybe the two of us could at least put in a few days of deep thought and find some nugget of universal truth. Or at least get a couple peaceful night's sleep. Plus, it was free!


Our earliest moment of true enlightenment came on the very first day...after viewing the daily schedule. For the next 12 days (note to anyone interested: the "10-day" course is actually 12 days; arrange travel plans accordingly...), we would have a total of two vegetarian meals per day, we would be waking up at 4 am, and we would be sitting cross-legged in complete silence for 12 hours each day.

The beautiful pagoda that housed our "cells" for
meditation.

Those who know Liz will sympathize with the pre-sunrise wake up calls. Those who know Kip understand there's no way he's eating just two veggie meals per day.

Most of all, those who are human realize 12 hours is a LOT of sitting still quietly. Cross legged. On the floor. Not to mention, the first three days we soon found out would be spent contemplating our nostrils, literally. Man, we can say we know our nostrils REALLY well, now.

On the positive side, the grounds were vibrant, covered with flowers, trees, and an ornate, gilded pagoda. The sound of rustling leaves and birdsong filled the contemplative silence--most of the time. However, the walkways of the compound were covered with gravel, and the crunching sound of sandal on rock became excruciatingly loud after a few days of "nobal silence." The cacophony grew all the more grating once all the participants began doing what Kip nicknamed the "Dhamma Shuffle," caused by people so bored out of their minds that they drag their feet s-l-o-w-l-y on the way to and from meditation. 

Spelling is not important. Nobal silence is important.

In addition to the mind-numbing silence, lack of eye-contact (not allowed), and any kind of stimulation (no reading, exercising, etc.) we also had to deal with the natural noises of those around us. This being India, if  bodily functions marked the path to enlightenment, the subcontinent would be home to more Buddhas than beggars. 

It's difficult to explain the amount of belching, coughing, sniffing, and yes, farting, that exited so very audibly and frequently from this particular group of around 30 locals and 30 peace-seeking foreigners. Kip swears the longest unbroken span of total silence during the more than 100 hours of group meditation reached 14 seconds. Once. And he had lots of time to count.

Men and women were separated, but we could see each other hobbling around every now and again like elderly octogenarians after a game of lawn bowling.  Day two (really day three, but it's not like we were making hash marks in blood on the walls of our cells...) Kip passed Liz a note (totally illegal). She all too joyously packed her bags and was ready to get the heck out, too, as he was. 

But she didn't. Neither did Kip...at least until day eight (quitter!).

If you were wondering how we (Liz) felt after ten days of silence, this is a pretty accurate representation. All in all, we are really glad we did the course. It was certainly an experience.  Liz wavered between wanting to run out of the room screaming, and considering taking the 45-day course. Kip wavered between sleep, hunger, and scaling the razor wire-topped walls for a long run, a warm cheese burger and a cold beer.

One of the many beautiful flowers surrounding the grounds.

Despite the fact that it was probably one of the most difficult (physically, mentally, totally) things we've ever done, it was an incredibly valuable experience and we're glad we did it.  Liz isn't planning on signing up for another course for at least another week or two. Kip still can't believe he lasted as long as he did, but he is proud he realized he could sit for an entire hour without moving...while listening to other people burp, cough, and fart quite freely, which was certainly enlightening, at least for him.

Liz found it hilarious that her toilet was branded with
a completely ripped off Continental Airlines logo. It was
also one of the only things she could read for 12 days...

A view of the meditation cell. Yes, cell,
just like in prison.

Into the unknown at the Dhamma Bodhi center in Bodh Gaya...

EVACUATED BY HELICOPTER

One of four helicopters struggling to take off in the thin air near Lukla, Nepal.

Weather in the mountains is a fickle lady, as we found out at what we thought was the end of our trek. 

Thanks to a thick curtain of fog that welcomed us back to Lukla, we spent two days and nights there, waiting for a Kathmandu flight that never departed (no, it wasn't on Yeti Airlines). On the morning of day three, the sky nowhere in sight, we were forced to hike two hours down the mountain to join a crowd of other stranded hikers to hop a helicopter out, lest we all miss connecting flights scheduled for the next day. 

Small world story--while waiting in the cold on a remote hilltop in Nepal, we bumped into a guy from New Orleans, Tim Walsh, who's friends with our good friends Kristian and Emery. Over beers we toasted their recent wedding...congrats guys!

After waiting overnight, we finally hitched a ride with six Canadian hikers who'd been trekking for nearly a month. The flight was a bit terrifying, and it certainly wasn't cheap, but the views were stunning and we thankfully got a refund on the canceled flight.

Once out of the clouds, the views weren't bad at all, as seen from these terraced hills emerald green with rice. 

While stuck in Lukla before the flight, we managed to have a little fun, perhaps not surprisingly. Together with a crew of other travelers met on the trail, we ended up renting out the tiny town's theater, which more resembled a concrete bunker than a cinema house. The proprietor, a local Sherpa woman, thought we were crazy, but she still agreed to supply popcorn if we bought beer from her. In the musty basement, we watched Touching the Void, a documentary about two climbers who nearly died attempting to summit an unclimbed mountain.  

All in all, it was an incredible trip we were sad to see end. But it's time we moved on, hopefully to lower, more level ground, at least for awhile. 

The crew at Lukla's only movie theater, which we rented out for a night while we were all stranded.

The Lukla crew, which includes an Aussie, a Zimbabwean, a guy from Chicago, and a guy from Japan among others.

Touchdown in Kathmandu. We split the fare with six Canadians who'd' been hiking for four weeks. Fun, smelly times.