Sylvia's Journal

We had a late start because we wanted to, and could, sleep in for a change. Once we got on the road we had car troubles and had to wait for a replacement car. Thus we skipped the sightseeing and went straight to the monastery where the American/Sikkimese parents of the headmaster have their simple lodgings, dad being a lama and both needing simple lifestyles to support their school-founding and school-running habit.

Waiting for lunch we walked several times (clockwise) around the large stupa that was built to honor the late rinpoche, listening to M’s stories about her Calvinist upbringing and its intersecting with her husband being a Buddhist and the son of lama himself.

We then followed her through the labyrinthine monastery up their quarters where a simple and delicious lunch was served. Over our meal we talked about the school, theirs and SOLA, living in Afghanistan, the art and science of teaching and the social mission we are all pursuing in our own individual ways.

Monastic living, though simple as I had expected, had some surprises: wireless internet connections, all the monks having Macs with Sikkimese fonts and prayer books digitized, internal phone lines and a gift shop where offerings were resold and various Buddhist paraphernalia for sale. We bought prayer flags and two amulets; one for mental clarity for Axel and an all-purpose one for me as we are now in the female-iron-rabbit year, a risky one for someone turning 60 in 2011. We also wanted to buy the ‘protection against weapons’ amulet that was listed on the 180 item catalogue that offered protection against just about everything including angry gods and water spirits. But they didn’t have the weapon one – it’s not one that is commonly sought in this peaceful little kingdom.

We said our goodbyes with an invitation to come back anytime, something that Axel is already contemplating. On the way down the hill we visited the Institute for Tibetology – housed in a Tibetan style building and filled with various treasures such as a series of Thankas (silk and brocade painted scrolls) describing the life of Buddha and various local deities, statues, old prayer books in Tibetan and other languages and ceremonial implements.

We had ourselves dropped off in downtown Gangtok where crowds were standing here and there in clumps on the pedestrian MG Marg mall watching TVs displayed in shop windows as Sri Lanka and India were vying for the World Cricket Cup. And then the later afternoon showers started again and Axel got drenched again.

We knew that India had won the world cup when all hell broke loose outside our hotel, firecrackers, gongs, drums. We are happy for India but I still don’t understand a thing about cricket.