From Rajasthan to Kathmandu

After two and a half weeks of high tech business networking in Bangalore, we left on a 44 hour train ride for Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan, where we spent a week visiting textile stores, clothes shops and historical sites.

We made some block print cloth purchases and added a new facet to our trip: sourcing, negotiating, making and shipping wholesale clothes to my son Kevin, who started selling Indian objects on the markets in the South of France.

We visited the timeless monuments of the Mughal era. In Jaipur, the Maharajah’s City Palace; Hawa Mahal, the Palace of the Winds built for the Maharajah’s wives; Jantar Mantar, the Royal observatory that has told time for over 200 years with a precision of two seconds. A few miles away we extensively explored Amber Palace, where the Maharajah was established before moving the capital to Jaipur.

Jaipur City Palace

 

Jantar Mantar, the 18th century royal observatory
http://picasaweb.google.com/Frenchyrjm/RajasthanJaipurAmber#

We were in awe at the beauty of the Mughal architecture of turrets and ramparts, archways and galleries, terraces and interior gardens, waterways and fountains, geometrical vaults and inlay marble work, built-in cooling systems, and ceilings of convex mirror mosaics reflecting evening candle light like stars in the sky.

Jaipur, Hawa Mahal, the Palace of Winds
 

Amber Fort and Palace

The following week we spent moving from place to place, experiencing shifting realities while discovering some of India‘s most beautiful sights. From Pushkar, a small holy town on the edge of the Rajasthan desert, we headed by early morning bus back to Jaipur, bustling, noisy, hot, dry and dusty; a day later another bus took us to Agra to visit the Taj Mahal, the next day a train brought us to hectic Chowk Bowli, the main bazaar in New Delhi, for our last night in India. Finally, a plane flew us to Kathmandu in Nepal.

Sunset in Pushkar

Taj Mahal

In Agra, the all white marble Taj Mahal reflecting the early morning sun, shifting from pink to orange to yellow, awakened our hearts by its perfect proportions and the finesse of its semi precious stone inlays, expressing ultimate beauty, permanence and eternity. The Agra fort and Palace revealed to us how the Mughal emperors brought refinement to its culmination, before their decline.
 

Agra fort - Haziz, our vivacious 70 year old guide

http://picasaweb.google.com/Frenchyrjm/TajMahalAndAgraFort#

 

We could appreciate a taste of the palace lifestyle they created, cultivating and integrating arts in every form into their daily life. We felt its inspiration, traveling across centuries, and calling us to bring some of this intentional creation, this quest of refinement and beauty into our own lives.







Agra fort, details of semi precious stone inlay in white marble

Thirteen months after debarking in Calcutta we landed in Nepal, leaving India and its overwhelming turbulence behind us. We gave up the restless masses of people in every town or city, the chaotic traffic where crossing any street spurs a heightened sense of danger and self preservation and where any open road space around you is immediately filled with a vehicle, most often blowing its horn.

We turned away from the staring looks, from the haggling rickshaw drivers and the “everyone pushes to cut in front of everyone” approach, encountered on the road and every time we had to wait at a restaurant, post office, shop or ticket counter, or enter or exit a bus.

Jaipur traffic - Agra: 3 tourist vendors to each tourist

We abandoned the trash, strewn in the streets and the sidewalks, heaped in the ditches and vacant lots and its indescribable odors. We walked out on the broken plumbing, flawed electric outlets, the short circuits and power surges that burnt-out three of my power supplies and melted four of my power cables.

We also left temperatures well into the 100’s that combined perfectly with the Rajasthan desert dust to completely dry us out. This year in India has been a challenge to our sensory tolerance level, to our mental adaptability, a strain on our physical health and hygiene standards, and has shaped our resilience day, after day, after day.

We have come closer to accepting what is and letting go of our expectations of what things could or should be. We’ve learned about ourselves as much as about the world around us; we’ve focused on cultivating patience, “radical acceptance” and open-mindedness, while dropping our wish lists and secondary needs.

Sweet family rickshaw greeting – Women in beautiful saris recycling cow dung

Departing from India we’re also renouncing the beautiful smiles and the laughter, the “Hello, what’s your good name?” or the post office manager who stops his work to take me on his scooter to an ATM, the elegance of Indian women -even when hauling cow dung -, the impeccable uniforms of school children and the courage and relentless, selfless labor of the lower social groups.

Last morning in India: School rickshaw ride – Comic and efficient Indian freight…

Thirteen months have for ever bound us emotionally and in spirit to Mother India with her infinite diversity of colors, prints, shapes, tastes and faces; her lively, colorful, welcoming and engaging people, her timeless wisdom, her heart beating with devotion at every street corner, her enchanting music and rhythms, temples and rituals...

 

Evening sari shopping in Jaipur – Rajasthani bangles shop

We now have a third mother-land in our lives to which we will return and who will continue to nourish our minds, inspire our dreams and challenge our assumptions.

After a seamless check-in at Indira Gandhi International airport, a quick flight and a swift Nepalese immigration process, we took an epic “taxi” ride to the neighborhood of our guest house, finally parking alongside a torn down main road that covered it with dust in a matter of minutes. Just off of the dirt street stood a gate and an alley, leading to Kathmandu’s “Boudha” neighborhood.
 

The ripped up dirt road and the gate to the Boudha area, barely noticeable

The shift of realities we had been experiencing during our week of moving from one place to another culminated when we hauled our luggage across the 4 lane dirt road and entered the Buddhist area of the stupa, through the decorated white gate.

All noise ceased; the air felt clean. Tibetan music was playing from the shops around, bells were ringing in temples, and the biggest stupa in the world revealed itself to our eyes with its procession of monks clad in red or orange, traditionally dressed Tibetan refugees and young people wearing jeans.

Passing the gateway to Boudha – The 1500 year old stupa, biggest in the world

Hundreds of people were circumambulating, reciting mantras, counting beads on their mala rosaries, turning the multitude of prayer wheels in the walls as they paced around the immense shrine, earning merit on the Buddhist way to wisdom and realization.
Just like the millions of others before them, right here, every day, for the past 1500 years…

Circumambulation around the stupa – Setting sun behind the thousands of prayer flags

We felt like we were passing through a portal of parallel realities that instantly affected our senses, emotions and state of mind. The air had become soft and protective; everything our eyes met inspired inner contemplation, quest of harmony, divinity and peacefulness. We had arrived at a very special place on our journey, where time was at a standstill.

Our intense weeks’ travel, lugging baggage on and off the bumpy rickshaws, bustling taxis, buses taking dirt trail detours, hectic train stations, narrow trains, up and down the stairs of one-night guesthouses, in one instant, was all behind us.

Arriving at Boudha, we at once felt at home in this yet unknown place. We were secure, relating to and uniting with the world around us at a subtle, compelling level. We circumambulated the stupa, turning each of the hundreds of prayer wheels; the first drops of rain we had felt in more than six months started to fall.

This was an auspicious welcoming to Nepal, where our Asia journey is coming to an end… for now.

Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram

Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram (KYM) is the one and only thing that brought us to Chennai early September 2008 to attend a one month, holistic yoga course called “Universal yet Personal, the Yoga of Krishnamacharya” followed by a 2 week class focused on Vedic chanting, named “Pilgrimage of Sound”, that covered Vedic chants, methods and ancient texts.

KYM has the unique value of being an established school coming from a lineage of masters, with structured programs, proven methods, knowledgeable and fluent English speaking faculty and multiple departments (Vedavani, the chanting branch; the Yoga Therapy department which is the principle activity of KYM).
KYM is recognized by the Indian government as a charitable organization, i.e. non-profit, and leads daily outreach programs that provide yoga instruction to the mentally and physically disabled and to underprivileged communities around Chennai.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sage Patanjali ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~T. Krishnamacharya

Sri T. Krishnamacharya (1888–1989) was the teacher of four 20th century world-renown yoga masters: BKS Iyengar, Patabi Jois who created Ashtanga yoga, Indira Devi and TKV Desikachar, who happens to be Krishnamacharya's son. He studied 30 years with his father before Krishnamacharya passed away at age 101. Desikachar founded the Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram in 1976 (see www.kym.org) as an offering to his teacher, with the goal of perpetuating his father’s teachings. Desikachar’s son, Kasthaub, following his father’s steps, created the Krishnamacharya Health and Yoga Foundation in 2003 (http://www.khyf.net/) to spread Yoga and Vedic chanting knowledge around the world through trainer certification courses.

25 people attended the one month yoga class; most were from the US, Germany, Australia, Spain and the UK, and mainly referred here by their teachers. We’ve found that people who come to India to perfect their yoga are often calm, insightful and self aware. Someone who invests their vacation time and money to come all this way is committed to yoga, and their attitudes reflect that.

As I wrote on my previous blog “Chennai the small town of 4.5 million”, we love Chennai and the neighborhoods where we lived. But it’s also a tough place, environmentally speaking. The air and water quality are very bad, it’s dirty, and a number of people arriving directly from abroad fell sick for a few days during that month. We were staying about 20 minutes away from the school by rickshaw and would return in the evening through the polluted Chennai traffic. This improved drastically after our first month when we moved 5 minutes walking distance away from the school. With a very full schedule, at the end of the day we were ready to go home, have some dinner and get to bed…

Schedule
5:50 Get up
7:00 Our landlord drove the 6 students staying at his guesthouse to school
7:30 - 8:30 Asana (postures) and Pranayama (breathing) practice
8:30-9:00 Breakfast
9:00-10:00 Principles of Asana (texts focused on postures, such as Hatha Yoga Pradipika)
10:00-11:00 Yoga philosophy (mainly Patanjali Sutras)
11:00-12:00 Vedic chanting practice
12:00-3:00 Lunch break
3:00-4:00 Application of yoga (functions and adaptations of postures, yoga therapy)
4:00-4:10 Chai break
4:00-5:00 Meditation
5:15-6:30 guest speakers 2-3 times per week

The KYM quality statement~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Preethi Villa yoga students

Asana

KYM teaches classic “Vinyasa” yoga as taught by Krishnamacharya. Vinyasa consists of sequenced postures synchronized with breathing, and in contrast to Iyengar yoga, with relatively little time spent holding the postures. Significant importance and level of detail is given to breathing in all classes, stressing the importance of breath as a vehicle between the body and the mind. The one month course becomes progressively more straining and demanding, each class being a succession of sequences, building up to a goal posture and coming back through counter postures and breathing steps. KYM also emphasizes the need to adapt the practice to the individual, not to the teacher’s preferences. Though this is not applied in the group sessions, it is the principle behind the yoga therapy consultations and individual classes. Given the short morning Asana practice, Kamala and I would stay between noon and 1:00 to put in an hour of postures before heading out to lunch. This completed the class schedule very well.

Principles of Asana
This topic was drawn from several ancient texts such as the Hatha Yoga Pradipika; the Yoga Samhita or the Yoga Vasishta. All the elements of asana and pranayama practice were clearly spelled out in texts that have been unchanged for several thousand years. From the purpose of asana practice to the classification of all of the postures, to the detailed execution of each asana, to principles of asana and pranayama breathing methods; how to design a sequence of practice or class, or how to plan a long term progression of practice… We learned the essential semantics of yoga, the concepts behind the language that give access to how these concepts apply across life, well beyond yoga practice itself.

Patanjali Sutra / Yoga Philosophy study
Certainly a highlight of the month’s classes. We delved into the theory of yoga that included the ultimate purpose of yoga –to achieve liberation-, how our consciousness works, the different categories of the mind and its activities, how to stabilize our brain’s effervescence, what are the lifestyle obstacles to a successful practice of yoga, techniques for reaching peace of mind, precepts for living a healthy and fruitful life,… This course was dense, rich and highly interactive, bringing out much discussion and debate.

Application of Yoga
Different from the practice and the principles of Asana studied in other classes, this course covered how and when to practice, how to adapt a practice to a lifestyle or to a given period of our life - the goal of a teenager’s practice and that of someone in their 50’s is completely different. We covered the specific function of each asana and pranayama, how to modify and adapt them to specific needs, simplifying them to accommodate someone’s limitations or intensifying them to make them more challenging. We worked on case studies of yoga therapy to address ailments related to specific professional situations.

Meditation
I was expecting to be sitting for an hour with some breathing instruction. In fact each evening we were given a meditation object and led through active meditation, including dynamic and static postures, breathing and chanting techniques. The purpose of the meditation object was to identify oneself with the intrinsic values of a symbol, for example the healing and pacifying qualities of Water, or the energizing, purifying attributes of the Sun.



Vedic chanting
The Veda-s were passed on from teacher to student for thousands of years by chanting in Sanskrit. A young student would learn the chant by heart before even learning the meaning in such a way to ensure that the intellect would not alter the content. Applying the strict rules of classic chanting was the only way to preserve the integrity of the tradition through ages, though fewer and fewer schools or even temple priests know and respect the classic Sanskrit rules of chanting.

For many centuries only men were allowed to chant; Krishnamacharya took a strong stand to open the teaching to women. KYM now gives daily Vedic chanting lessons to Chennaites, mainly women, who maintain the classical tradition that was close to being lost.

Of all the classes, Vedic chanting was a revelation to Kamala and I. We registered in the first place because we love to sing and chant together. Vedic chanting is a powerful meditative and breathing practice with many therapeutical benefits, calming, energizing, leveling, balancing… During the two weeks of “Pilgrimage of Sound”, we deepened our knowledge of the origins and meanings of the chants, as well as learned the technical aspects of pronunciation, meter and tone, practicing chants several hours per day.

Yoga therapy
We attended individual therapy consultations and private practice classes, learning specific sequences of postures and breathing that in my case focus on rebalancing my hip/pelvis/sacrum and shoulder/neck areas that were diagnosed as severely out of alignment, tilting in opposite directions. This has greatly helped me since then, a reference sequence I can practice, or choose elements from, depending on what my body needs.

The Teacher’s role in the Indian spiritual tradition
It is challenging to undertake a spiritual path all by oneself, since the nature of the quest is one’s own consciousness and inner life. Guidance and counsel are constantly needed to overcome the different obstacles that appear at each step of the journey.

In the still current Indian tradition, the young student, around age 7, enters the Gurukulam - literally the house of the guru-, to undergo 12 to 14 years of study of the Veda, learn the texts by heart from chants, then learn the meaning, and finally study specific arts and sciences such as Sanskrit, Yoga, Ayurveda, Astrology and Vedic rituals. During this time he would serve, and learn as much from observing the guru role-model values, disciplines and behaviors, as from the formal study of texts. Since the Veda-s were taught exclusively through oral tradition for thousands of years, the lineage of gurus was an assurance of the quality of teaching the student would receive.

~~~~~~~~
Gheeta our program Director~~~~~~~~~Guru Shrine, created for a puja

The guru - one who takes from darkness to light (gu=darkness, ru=light) - would share his personal experience and adapt the individual mentoring to each student’s capability and progress. When the student was learned, he would then go practice in the world, and in turn become a teacher, accountable to the standards of the lineage of teachers.

In the West we associate the notion of Guru with personality cult, someone who is above questioning, when in fact a Guru is considered here as a teacher with his/her strengths and weaknesses. It is mainly someone who has a total commitment to a spiritual path and to sharing their knowledge and experience with their students. The point was made very clearly to us that to pay one’s respect to a Guru is, in reality, to acknowledge the entire lineage of teachers that has enabled the teaching to reach the student.

Evening discourses and presentations
During the 6 weeks we attended captivating talks on the Veda-s, Yoga Therapy and Healing, the Science of Ayurveda, the Role of the Teacher, Preparation for Meditation, the Role of Women in Vedic chanting and the Young Spiritual student’s first steps. We also attended a traditional dance show given by Nritya, one of our teachers and a couple of Vedic chanting sessions by the senior staff of KYM led by Mrs. Desikachar. We also had two –much too- short question and answer sessions with TKV Desikachar.

Saturday morning talks
TKV Desikachar has a weekly one hour talk covering verses of the Patanjali yoga sutras. For example: "Bhuvana Jnanam Surye Samyamat", ”Understanding the Sun leads to understanding the Universe”. He would explain different reasons to be grateful to the Sun and take it as an object of meditation, stating that it is also the most universal and commonly accepted symbol of divinity around the world. It’s the one that young children are given in India to grasp the concept of the divine, of something greater than ourselves. His words are always simple, accessible and spoken from the heart.

In summary
We loved every bit of KYM. The faculty members role-model yogic values, i.e. introspection, self awareness, humility, gracefulness, discipline, personal practice and continuous learning. Learning the breadth of theoretical elements of yoga based on ancient texts with such a knowledgeable Indian faculty provided precious cultural depth to each subject. Our teachers would answer our questions and elaborate on any given topic, telling stories by heart from the ancient texts or relating examples of how yoga principles pervade daily life in India. We had “insider” information on the religious festivals happening while we were in Chennai, including descriptions of the rituals held behind closed doors in every home.



Richard and TKV Desikachar ~~~~~~~ The KYM staff for our month program

Attending these programs was an important financial investment, especially relative to our travel budget and to the price of other yoga classes in India. We wonder where else could we have received such depth of knowledge and tangible illustrations, as given by the KYM faculty.

We very strongly recommend KYM to serious yoga practitioners and even more so to yoga teachers who have the significant responsibility to convey much more than asana practice to their students. KYM teaches a holistic science of yoga that addresses all aspects of life and is taught unaltered from the most ancient traceable origins of the Veda-s and Sutra texts.

We are grateful to have had access to this transformative, life changing body of ancient knowledge, and hope for a long life, in order to integrate even a small fraction of it…

At the foot of Arunachala, the red mountain

Towards the end of October, as we were preparing to leave Chennai after 2 months of studying yoga, a sense of open, undefined space surfaced. It was the first time in 9 months that we were without any plans or definite destinations. We were heading south and wanted to experience ashram life during the winter. I knew above anything else that we needed a place to settle down and just have time to ourselves.

We now had to integrate all the learning of the past 6 months. Integrate by creating a complete, daily, personal yoga practice. Integrate by having time to read reference texts and add to the notes from our classes, taking time to reflect and time to write. To attain any depth and to shape long lasting habits, these activities require stability, space, focused time and regularity.

A challenge when you are working and under time pressure, which was a good reason to do this now that we actually had the luxury of time, but equally difficult to accomplish if you’re traveling around. Using our time to settle somewhere and concentrate was clearly the next “right thing” to do. We had been consistently selecting our experiences based on the purpose of our journey formulated last December, “… to put our lives into perspective, claim our spiritual aspirations through learning and practice…” and we firmly intended to maintain this direction.

But our travel budget was expiring with an end-date mid January, extending to mid March if we reduced our expense rate 50% that was feasible only if we stayed in low cost locations for a few months. In order to replenish our travel budget, I had initiated networking contacts in September for potential consulting work in Bangalore that at first gave several promising responses. With the impact of the US financial meltdown on corporate expenses and the challenge of remaining on people’s minds when so far from the US, things slowly came to a standstill. What to do? You can’t force networking; you can only keep at it…

It took a day to make our way to Pondicherry, several hours of which we waited at mid point, on the side of the road, in the beating sun. Our challenge was to get a bus to stop, be it with standing room only but that would also have room for our luggage...

When we arrived at the Swades guesthouse in Pondicherry, we were welcomed by Ilyas, the owner of this charming 5 room home stay http://www.swades-guesthouse.com/. Ilyas is Pondicherry native –it was French at the time of his birth- and left for France as a kid. He lived there 30 years before coming back to the family house a couple of years ago to improve his family’s quality of life. His story reminded me of my own, leaving Ohio for France at age 9 and returning to my mother land 33 years later... Ilyas was a source of warmth, attentive care and peacefulness during our stay, half of which we spent sick in bed with a flu virus we had brought from Chennai.

For a long time Pondicherry http://www.pondicherryonline.in/Profile/History/ was one of the few French colonies in India, until it was handed back over to India in 1956 . The French Quarter that lines the waterfront spreading inland for several blocks is designed as a grid of tree bordered, stone paved avenues, lined with 100 to 300 year old colonial houses and mansions with lush green tropical courtyards, fountains and grand staircases leading to roofed terraces above colonnades.


The atmosphere is quiet and relaxed, the streets clean and well paved, all of which are rare in India. It’s a lightly populated part of town with a good deal of the real estate belonging to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. We fully indulged in several of the French restaurants there, as a change from months of daily Indian meals. French families still own property there that has been passed down from one generation to the other. And many current owners have never seen the property they inherited, that is often going to wrack and ruin.

I was feeling at home in this islet of French history and culture; it reminded me of one of my favorite cities in the world, Aix en Provence. But my mind was struggling with our travel issues. Our visas are due to expire in January and we’ll need to leave the country to get new ones. We still don’t know where the optimal place to go is or for how long new visas will be issued, despite my research on the topic... We were also hoping to attend an intensive yoga program in February for which we needed funding, and had put aside the idea of spending a month at an Ayurveda center in Kerala for the same budgeting reasons.

Kamala and I were getting tired of packing and unpacking, moving every several weeks or days. I was feeling anxious with the open-endedness, needing more direction and control on our life.
I needed some longer-term plans that would direct the coming months. Along with my networking for short term consulting in Bangalore, I had been contemplating starting a fully-fledged consulting business here and was researching legal status and administrative procedures. I was feeling the urge to locate and design our future life and my next professional venture.

Not one single question we faced had a straightforward answer. The buildup of interdependent issues and timelines was drastically changing our experience of the trip from the preceding 9 months. All the actions I had initiated on any of these moving targets had been fleeing, at best. How any of this would play out was unknown.

Here we were, again treading the curves of the great labyrinth (see Jan ’08 blog in the archives).

Pondicherry was a sharp turn in my outlook on our journey. Kamala and I both loved the place and I started feeling that we could actually live there. Ilyas explained to me that Pondicherry had specific, simplified procedures for business creation and how the network of French entrepreneurs there could be a support system to my endeavor. Kamala and I visited the Sri Aurobindo hand made paper manufacture and before I knew it I ended up with freshly printed business cards including my India cell phone number and the name of a company to be.

We headed inland after 10 days in Pondicherry, fully recovered from our Chennai virus. The idea of creating a company and visions of a life in India were growing and getting me more and more excited every day. The idea of having my own business to manage –just like during the first 10 years of my professional life– and the prospect of being in a unique position, as an American-French global management consultant based in India felt like a great adventure to shift into!

Then we arrived in Thiruvannamalai to stay at the Ramana Maharshi ashram. The town is one of the major holy Shiva sites in India, at the base of mount Arunachala, the red mountain, where Ramana Maharshi spent more than 20 years in meditation in the early 1900's. His main teaching is about finding the divine essence of who we are through the path of self inquiry.

On our second day here, all of our questions and wonderings clashed.
Our trip was actually hitting a wall.

Kamala was feeling empty and out of energy for the first time in 9 months; I was clutching to my latest idea, like to a buoy that would save us from the deep, dark waters around us. Then, I understood that my excitement around creating the future was in fact my best answer to close the open-endedness of our unresolved situation and regain the sense of control of our trip and of our life.

Thiruvannamalai leads to drastic readjustments; several people have told us how empty and aimless they felt for the first days after arriving. It is as though there was some cleansing power to the place itself. This could be associated to Shiva, the god who destroys illusions and ignorance through the devastating fire of divine truth. The same friends explained that their vision became clearer after their initial helplessness and that they found new direction thereafter. In our case we could see it happening; we were here at a very special point in our trip.

For all I know, our “productive” travel may be accomplished at this point. Perhaps is it time for a deeper journey, one that extends beyond the uplifting learning experiences, yoga classes and travels; one that confronts us with our deeper selves, with our desires and our fears. This could be a time to integrate our philosophical and spiritual learning, by putting equanimity, perspective, insight and clarity into practice.
On the spot.

A time to see how we can actually deal with the challenges we have created for ourselves.
A time to learn to surrender to the process we’ve generated and maintain faith in the outcome.

We are smack in the midst of what Bill Bridges’ calls the “Neutral zone” of personal transitions.
The Past is over, with a point of no return.
The Future remains to be created, completely undefined yet inevitable.
Everything is in flux, unpredictable and with an uncertain outcome; insecurity can paralyze the ability to move forward.
People don’t like being in this uncomfortable phase and try to get out of it as quickly as possible.

A few years ago Bill told me that because so much is happening at the subconscious level, the neutral zone is the richest period of development for individuals and organizations. It’s actually a time of gestation and profound transformation, where new, unexpected ideas can sprout and grow, where learning from the past and fresh insights on one’s self foster creativity and renewal.

The past week here in Thiruvannamalai has illustrated typical behaviors of such a period. We have each been going through ups and downs, ranging from confusion and emptiness to acceptance and excitement. We have been processing, reflecting alone in silence or talking together, about limitations, possibilities, what-ifs, yes-buts, about our expectations and our doubts. Two days ago we actually spent the entire day in our ashram room, without setting a foot outside. We did not want to go out into the world, were needing solitude and retreat. And no decisions or actions were coming out of any of this.

We have since felt more centered, ready to take each day for what it is. We are settling down here to work on our learning and practice for a few weeks, avoiding hasty decisions and allowing the future to shape itself during this period. And creating a business may be in plan, or not. With the inner work, we will delve deeper and with time create a new life.

A major requirement of the Neutral zone is to let go. Let go of control, let go of the past, let go of needing the future to be definite and reassuring. Only at this condition will the future actually bear the rich possibilities of transformation and renewal.

Yesterday, November 6th 2008, our return flight to San Francisco left Bangkok at 6:50 am. Without us.

We are here to allow our process to unfold.

Tibetan Exile Brothers Connection

The first I heard about JJI Exile Brothers was from my son Kevin, who had spent some time in McLeodganj, the town above Dharamsala where the Dalai Lama lives. By the way, in Hindi, Dharamsala means “abode of people in pursuit of the Divine”. Dharamsalas are hostels on pilgrim routes, where pilgrims or sadhus (wandering holy men) can find refuge for the night.

Kevin told us about the best restaurant in town, with the nicest staff, the healthiest food and the most interesting music.

He also mentionned that JJI were three brothers, rock musicians and really nice guys. Once we had settled at the yoga center in Dharamkot, we went a mile down the road to McLeodganj, to eat at JJI Exile brothers on Bhagsu Road. The restaurant we entered was really intimate, with 4 tables seating a maximum of 20 people.

We rapidly became regulars. We came for the family who runs it, with Tashi-Tashi, the brothers’ uncle and Niema, the brothers’ mother and Tashi’s sister, the two of them most often in charge of the place; and for Max, the gifted young cook.

Romantic evening ambiance during monsoon power shortages


We would study the antique decorations on the walls, read the dozens of faded cards and notes sent by customers from around the world, listen to the outstanding, eclectic choice of music, and of course taste the homemade, healthy Tibetan and Italian cuisine. In the evenings the ambiance would sometimes have a romantic touch, especially when monsoon rain power shortages would have us eat by candlelight, one candle per table.

Jigme and Max preparing dumplings and salsa


Tashi, Niema and Max have this warm, humble and deep authentic presence that we found in the whole family. Tashi and Max would frequently ask me for updates on Kevin' travels throughout India and Nepal, as they had made friends with him before his departure.

While eating we could hear Niema read the Hindustan Times in English to other Tibetan women sitting together. Like most everyone in McLeodganj, they would follow every statement, commentary or trip account concerning His Holiness the Dalai Lama. After all, she had immigrated as a child just a couple of years after he had, when the Chinese invaded Tibet in 1958, and had lived here ever since then longing for the day her country would peacefully regain its freedom and her family could go home.

One evening, as we were savoring our favorite dishes, –Thunthuk for Kamala, a Tibetan soup of fresh vegetables, subtle spices and fresh home made flat noodles, and cheese gnocchi for me -, a young man with a round face, dark mid-long curly hair and a warm, outgoing smile introduced himself. Jamyang, the older of the brothers sat down next to us, and, as we were commenting on the unique quality of the ‘40s and ‘50s crooner music playing that evening, gave us the short story of JJI.

The brothers’ Tibetan rock band, “JJI Exile brothers” had become increasingly famous several years ago, touring in the US and Europe, and generating a large following among their generation of Tibetan refugees in India. They recorded a CD that Jamyang popped on for us; it was a mix of traditional Tibetan music, rock, blues, country, and poetic ballades, all admirably composed, with Tibetan lyrics. Track four started with a few notes, immediately awakening a deep, stirring melancholy. As I shared my feeling with Jamyang, he explained that the song was called “If” and talked about what life would be like for his people if the Chinese invasion of Tibet had never happened.

The Three JJI Exile brothers, rehearsing in the basement before the concert,


and at the restaurant jam session


Regarding the Tibetan topic, India is in a challenging position. Tensions with neighboring China continue to make the headlines on several inter-related topics: the sensitivity of India hosting the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan Government in Exile, the waves of incoming refugees, as well as the indefinite border between Northern India and China, since a brief border war in 1962. See http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/19/world/asia/19india.html.

A quiet yet very present tension exists between Indians and Tibetans in the areas that have welcomed increasing numbers of refugees, currently estimated at around 100 000. Quiet because there is rarely any visible outbreak between non-violent Tibetans and peaceful Himalayan Indians; present because when you start asking about the topic, the Indians will share their frustration and irritation about the economic gaps between refugees and locals. While the Indian government and many NGOs are financially helping the Tibetan exiles, numbers of locals are still living in dire poverty. There is certainly a lot to be said from both sides; the Indians are more sensitive to the economics, while the Tibetans can legitimately question their uncertain future as refugees in a hosting land. These are just some complexities of the reality of Tibetan refugees that are visible only from here.

I asked Jamyang if the brothers ever put-on any concerts in McLeodganj. They hadn’t been playing in concerts for the past couple of years, he explained, other than in Vienna a few weeks earlier and in Amsterdam back in January... He told us they held regular music jams at the restaurant on Sunday nights and invited us over. That proved to be a challenge, as we rose before 5:00 am and started yoga practice at 6:00. We rarely would go down to McLeod to spend the evening…

Several weeks later, late June, after my 6-day return trip to New York for my daughter Meaghan’s graduation, Kamala and I decided to have lunch at JJI to celebrate my return. It was the ideal way to come back to the very particular pulse of McLeodganj and its surroundings.

As we greeted Niema and settled at our table, I was intrigued by some little flyers she was writing on. She told us the brothers were having a concert a week later, with a guest star, Raf, on the saxophone. When Jamyang came in towards the end of our meal I shared my excitement with him. We would actually hear them in concert before we left the area! He proposed that we come to listen to them rehearsing later that afternoon.

I postponed the visit to the next day, showed up at the restaurant to notice drum and electric guitar sounds arising somewhere from the rear of the restaurant. Max took me down the outdoor stairs, over some corrugated tin roofing the rain had made slippery a few minutes earlier, down a few more moldy cement steps and into to their small practice room. It was decorated with Tibetan images, prayer flags, graffiti, and crammed with a chaos of instruments, amplifiers and cables.



JJI stands for the 3 brothers’ names in order of age: Jamyang (Bass and lead vocals), Jigme (lead guitar, vocals) and Ingsel (drums and vocals). They were ending their first rehearsal set with Raf, so I had time to listen to a couple of songs before their break. Raf has been living in McLeodganj for a couple of years now, developing his personal style and composing for alto saxophone and clarinet, and attending meditation retreats. He had met the Brothers a few months earlier, but had only played with them a few times at the Sunday evening restaurant jam sessions.

He kindly offered me to play on his alto saxophone during the break. This was an exceptional treat since I hadn’t blown into a sax since I had moved out of my apartment in January! Jamyang and Raf stuck around and we had a little jam based on my very modest jazz repertoire. I was having a fabulous time; playing with musician friends contrasted from the more serious things we had been focusing on during our trip… personal discipline, fasting, learning and practicing yoga with the associated efforts and pains…

Talking with Jigme at the break, I learned that when the group was at its peak, several tragedies hit family and friends. The JJI Brothers lost their desire to play, tour and live the life of stage stars. They felt the loss in their family and the weight and despair of the cause they were advocating; the tragedy of their people became even more real to them through their own hardships.

Chinese government policies have been geared to eliminate and completely eradicate Tibetans from the cultural, social and economic picture by marginalizing them in their own country. These policies include taking housing away for a variety of “reasons”, moving Tibetans to ghettos, providing employment exclusively to the thousands of Chinese immigrants that arrive every week in Lhasa, making public schools not only payment based but too expensive for any unemployed Tibetan family to afford. Now Tibetan children are actually being kept away from public education in their own homeland.

The finishing of the direct Chinese train line to Tibet has since a couple of years drastically increased the number of Chinese immigrants coming to Tibet as a land of opportunity. Lhasa has been developed from the centuries old mythical spiritual center into a downtown of karaoke bars, brothels and gambling halls. “political prisoners” have been detained against human rights and monks demonstrating pacific resistance systematically tortured.
Many well documented films have been made on the topic. If you are interested in knowing more, look into the following documentaries : "Tibet: The Cry of the Snowlion", "Windhorse", "Dreaming of Tibet", "Tibet's Stolen Child".
http://www.studentsforafreetibet.org/article.php?id=83
http://www.studentsforafreetibet.org/

Jigme Mandul, friend, protest artist and stage performer /acrobat


Jigme Mandul painted half Tibetan flag, half skull.


The structured policies of the Chinese government have pushed young men towards rackets, drugs and alcohol and young women to prostitution. Despite a high degree of sympathy in principle for the Tibetan cause, the world continues to ignore how systematic and effective China has been in executing this program for the past 50 years.

For several years the Brothers had stopped playing, dropping into depression, “auto-medication” and hopelessness.

Raf explained later that the Amsterdam and Vienna concerts earlier this year had brought back some hope, re-building their interest to resume more serious music endeavors. He had started playing frequently with Jamyang over the past two months and this had just recently stimulated Jigme and Ingsel to want to play all together again. When I met them they were actually just starting to rehearse together as a group. Jamyang had the idea of planning a local concert and the date was set for July 6th, the location was Yongling Crèche and Kindergarten school hall on Jogiwara Road. They had but a week to prepare…

The practice resumed an hour or so later as I sat in a small humid corner, listening and observing how photogenic this tiny room tucked below the restaurant was. I could envision the beauty of some natural light pictures with the graffiti walls, the Tibetan decorations and the youthful energy they exuded. I had just brought a camera from New York and had found a perfect subject to explore! As they enthusiastically agreed for me to come back the next day with my camera, I thought it was definitely going to be a lot of fun, combining my passions for photography, music and for discovering people. It was going to be their first concert in McLeodganj for 3 years and had all the oomph of a come-back. And I wanted to encourage them and help turn the volume up!

The idea of having a Tibetan rock concert in McLeod had its detractors, even though the Brothers called it “The Freedom Concert”. Since the violent Chinese repression of Tibetan protests in April that cost the lives to hundreds of Tibetans and imprisonment to hundreds more, there was a moratorium on any public Tibetan entertainment.

Daily candle vigils at 6:30 pm in McLeodganj


Even the usual performance of the TIPA (Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts) for His Holiness’ birthday at the Dalai Lama’s temple in McLeod was cancelled this year. Protests throughout India and the regular evening candle vigils in McLeodganj were the only accepted forms of Tibetan public gatherings. This was one of the many ways for the Tibetan refugees to express their solidarity with their brothers and sisters back home.

To make a long story short, there were several days of practice below the restaurant and final rehearsal at the school. The sound equipment was minimal, several instruments feeding into the same amplifiers, microphones and guitar pickups crackling, cable problems to be soldered at the last minute. Raf and the brothers worked on details and solos of each song, while I took dozens of pictures, distributed flyers, put posters up and played some saxophone now and then.
The concert date had been chosen by chance, and happened to be the birthday of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. This was a very special day in Dharamsala. We had endured full monsoon weather for the past month with regular downpours, grey, foggy skies and very little sun. We had spent up to 10 days without seeing the sun at all.
Then, the day of the Dalai Lama’s birthday, in McLeodganj where His Holiness is established, the sun shone intensely in a perfectly blue sky all afternoon. It was as though we had been living in a bowl and the lid had been taken off, revealing a world above us that we had forgotten……the colors, the immensity and the depth.

Find the sign! The modest signage to direct people down the path


Everything was almost ready. Jigme, a cousin, and I made up a few last minute signs indicating where the concert was, out of paper bags from the grocery store next door, and taped them to the walls on Jogiwara road.



By the time the concert started, the hundreds of Tibetans, Indians and tourists from Korea, Japan, US, Europe and Israel that had lined up for their 100 rupee ($2.5) tickets had filled the school hall. Jigme, the cousin, lit candles along the stage as Niema welcomed everyone with words of peaceful protest and unconditional support for the guidance of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Then everyone joined in for a special Happy Birthday song. The concert took the form of an unassuming protest, with on-stage activist live-art creation, a painted dancing protestor and the activist lyrics of their songs.

Family and friends were volunteering at the desert and beverage table, serving homemade cakes, hot chai and soft drinks poured into plastic cups from half gallon bottles bought at the local grocery store. It really felt like a neighborhood fund-raiser, which in fact it was. All the proceeds were collected to buy a washing machine and dryer for a Tibetan old folks’ home.

The event was a big success. The audience was ecstatic, appreciating a rare live rock concert and the Brothers’ talent and overflowing energy level. With more than 300 tickets sold, the retirement home would get its appliances. The brothers had made a statement about their passion for their art and their audience.

We left around 10 pm, shortly before the end; when I saw the group the next day they were worn out. I think it was the emotional rush of being on stage again… in their home town.

In the following days I created a slideshow from the best of the rehearsal and concert pictures and distributed it to family and friends. It was my way of acknowledging the Brothers’ fine talent and encouraging them to be themselves in their art form.

Every Sunday evening the restaurant is transformed into a little theater for the jam session. Jigme offered that I play a couple of songs on the saxophone with them the following Sunday. That week was like the sequel of the previous one; we got to spend more time together, this time rehearsing “Gypsy”, a ballade evoking the migrant lives of refugees that Raf composed, and “ The Rose“ a blues -rock tune about freedom.

Rehearsing for the jam session

with Raf and Jamyang


The instruments and amps created a small stage space in the back of the restaurant and seating room for about 25 people was set up after ending the dinner service early and piling the few tables in the street. Tibetans and tourists filled the room while Niema served chai and deserts. After half an hour of music, Bhagsu Road was filled with people glued to the windows of the restaurant and listening from the street.



Kamala told us it was the evening she had the most enjoyed since we arrived in Dharamkot, 3 months earlier. It was such a blessing for me to actually work on a couple of tunes with musician friends and to perform with them in such an intimate, friendly atmosphere. I had spent a lot of time getting to know the brothers and family, my incursion into the world of Tibetan exiles in McLeodganj.

Looking at the concert pictures


The restaurant jam session


After the concert of the previous week, the Exile Brothers had made their come back to the McLeodganj scene and were making plans to tour the Tibetan schools in the area and share their art with refugee children. The next day Kamala and I started our Vipassana meditation retreat for 10 days… The day it ended, on our way to the train, we went to have lunch with Niema. She and her sons had gone to the US Consulate in Delhi to obtain visas to play in a couple of concerts in New York and the Midwest in the following month. The visas were not granted. Niema thought it could be because the Consulate was of Indian origin…

Our new family in Mcleodganj...
As Jigme put it one day, when I wanted to pay for our meal:

“Why would you pay? It separates us. Don't. We are together.”

On leaving McLeodganj, what we left behind was our Tibetan family.

That some day very soon we will come back to be with... and just be with...

Niema and Kamala


In the meantime, the Brothers are still preparing their tour of the schools and spending time sitting in front of JJI restaurant on Bhagsu Road in McLeodganj. They might be shooting the breeze, or composing their next tune, planning their next CD, or wondering again about that eternal homeland they have never yet seen...