Hit by Enlightenment (India Report #2)

23 11 2010
Mahabodhi Temple – day and night

Day and night at Mahabodhi Temple

I’m a little slow on my India follow-up. It’s been an exhausting week of finding out that the worsening “Kathmandu cough” I’ve had is actually bronchitis, probably brought on by the enormous amount of pollution in this city (since I’ve never had bronchitis in my life). In addition, I was working on a presentation on the influence of the “East” on American art for an upcoming international arts conference. Now that some of the more dramatic moments of my Nepal life have been temporarily settled, I can finally sit down to post about Bodhgaya, India.

Bodhgaya is where Buddha supposedly attained enlightenment while sitting under a bodhi (pipal) tree. The town is a major pilgrimage destination for Buddhists and others alike, and every nation with a healthy number of Buddhists has erected their own temple and/or monastery. First, we had to get to Bodhgaya from Varanasi, about 6 hours away, with our trusty driver Ram. We had tour guides within each town, city or at major tourist destinations but between each of those, we had Ram. He and my husband chattered away in Hindi and from Ram we learned probably more than we did from any of the guides. He told us about local customs, which industries were big in certain areas, and food. Did you know that Indian chapati bread tastes best when cooked over a fire fueled by dried cow dung patties? I know some are thinking, “Oh, that’s gross,” but somewhere in the world, someone probably thinks it’s weird that Americans enjoy hickory-smoked bar-b-que.

We did have a good guide in Bodhgaya, because he was actually interested in the topic of Buddhism on a personal level. When I have hired travel guides (not just in India, but in other parts of the world including the U.S.) I’ve found that 60% of the time you get someone who just rattles off a list of facts they’ve memorized from a book. (Being a professor on the lookout for plagiarized papers/presentations, I’m pretty good at spotting this trend). When someone isn’t invested in a topic and they don’t really know it in-depth, it makes it difficult to follow their delivery, and asking follow-up questions is nearly impossible because they’re unprepared. But our Bodhgaya guide had informally studied Buddhism with various monks and was excitedly planning to take part in a 10-day meditation retreat next year. So, his delivery of the material was passionate and based on both factual information and his own experiences. He was actually happy when we asked questions!

The major Enlightenment sites are clustered around the Mahabodhi Temple and document each stage of Buddha’s final quest for enlightenment. He didn’t just attain enlightenment and head immediately to Sarnath to preach about it, but stuck around for a while to meditate upon his spiritual journey. Surrounding the temple complex are wooden planks that people can rent in order to prostrate or meditate upon holy ground. It’s even possible to meditate all night within the complex so long as you purchase a ticket before they lock the gates, and local vendors were selling mosquito tents for those wishing to meditate more comfortably throughout the night and day.

Monks under shade of Buddha's bodhi tree

Monks under shade of Buddha's bodhi tree

The bodhi tree itself is huge. You can’t actually sit against it since a stone fence surrounds it, but the long branches extend far enough out that you can sit in their shade, as you see the saffron-robed monks doing in this photograph. This isn’t Buddha’s original tree. Emperor Ashoka’s wife, so the story goes, jealously killed that tree, because Ashoka devoted himself to Buddhism after converting in the 2nd century BCE. Before she killed it, a cutting from the original tree was planted in Sri Lanka and the Bodhgaya tree is a cutting from the Sri Lanka tree.

As I was photographing the tree, a small branch fell and hit me on the head. Maybe I was too “in the moment” to be anything but annoyed and should’ve realized that any branches or leaves from Buddha’s tree would be highly sought after, but within seconds, several people dove toward my feet (including a couple monks and my husband) to collect the leaves and now broken bits of branch that hit me. Does getting hit by a sacred tree branch mean I’m blessed? I sure hope so. At least, that’s how I’m interpreting it.

I was able to photograph some nice water images as part of my ongoing water series. During our Bodhgaya tour, we drove across the Falgu River, to the spot where Buddha, in one of his pre-Buddha moments of frustration, threw a metal bowl into the river and said something to the effect, “If I am to reach the highest spiritual plain, let this bowl float upriver against the current. If it floats downriver, I’ll give up my quest.” Well guess what? The bowl did the impossible and floated upriver, pointing the way to the bodhi tree. Hence, the story and symbolism of this place made it the perfect spot for me to be creating splashes, as I’m sure Buddha’s bowl would have done.

My photography assistants on Falgu River near Bodhgaya

My photography assistants on Falgu River near Bodhgaya

During the photographic process, we attracted some attention from the local village children. They became my helpers and you can see them in this image. The oldest, whom you see in the front, was very interested from a scientific perspective and told us about his studies into nature and the human body. He’s very hopeful of one day becoming a doctor and asked if we could send him books about brains (the mind) and lungs and the diseases that affect them. So, any of you Mount Mercy nursing and biology students reading this blog: if you have entry-level science materials that we could send in a care package, please pass them along to Jane Gilmor and my husband will FedEx them to our curious young friend in order to encourage him toward achieving his dream. My husband was once a small boy in a village home with dirt floor and no electricity or running water. With the help of family, friends and complete strangers who extended their kindnesses (like the Catholic nun who gave him some money for the last little bit of money he needed for his plane ticket to America, or the volunteers from English-speaking countries who helped him improve his English) he made it to the United States. Now, he’s one of those immigrant success stories you read about all the time. When we met this studious boy who clearly could succeed if given the chance, I thought of my husband and all the other people like him who just need a break.

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Varanasi, Benares or Kashi – take your pick (India report #1)

11 11 2010
Ganges sign

No caption necessary

Okay, finally a post on our recent trip to India. I’m breaking the trip into segments beginning with the biggie: Varanasi. Varanasi is the city’s official name but it seems most residents call it Benares because, as our driver informed us, Varanasi is a tongue twister. The city was historically/religiously known as Kashi, or “city of light”. How fitting, coming on the tails of my “festival of lights” post. Of Varanasi, the Lonely Planet guidebook says,

  • “Brace yourself. You’re about to enter one of the most blindingly colorful, unrelentingly chaotic and unapologetically indiscreet places on earth. Varanasi takes no prisoners. But if you’re ready for it, this may just turn out to be your favorite stop of all.”

They speak truth.

I’ll throw in a few images here and there, but you can see the majority on the Flickr link at right. It was really difficult deciding which images to include after photographing a colorful, chaotic and unapologetically indiscreet place! Either it’s impossible to take a bad photo here or I’m becoming a really good photographer. I suspect the former.

Altogether, we spent a week there between the couple days at the beginning and the few days at the end of our India tour. I packed for 70-degree weather but in most of our India itinerary it was 90 degrees. The trip might have been even more chaotic were it not for the fact that my husband Suresh is fluent in Hindi (in addition to English, his native Nepali and a smattering of Bengali and Urdu…doesn’t it make you sick?). Because even the northern part of India, where they predominantly speak Hindi, is so vast, he could pretend to be Indian. So even though he had me, the Westerner, in tow, we were still able to navigate the city and score much better prices for goods and services. And let’s face it, Americans buy most everything at fixed cost so we’re terrible at bargaining. Being from a part of the world where bargaining is common, Suresh is good at it so I let him do all the talking. The only problem we encountered with our travel together is that at every hotel, they kept giving us rooms with 2 single beds. We finally came to the conclusion that everyone assumed Suresh was my local guide instead of my life partner. I don’t know what that says about me if they assumed I’d be sharing a hotel room with my guide, but we got a kick out of it.

Ganges View

Parlor of Ganges View Hotel

Here’s an image of one of our hotels, the Ganges View, which was amazing! We had extra excellent service to boot because half the hotel staff are Nepali! The hotel is the former home of the Indian version of a princess and passed down to family over generations until the current family converted part of it into a guesthouse. It still retains a palatial air and they home-cooked delicious vegetarian dinners for guests in the spirit of this holy city. What made this place even more special is the attitude of the owners toward art and culture. The current owner studied art in school and maintains a large collection of artworks and books in every nook and cranny of the hotel. He and his family are true patrons of the arts in the traditional sense because they host a cultural lecture/peformance series, actively buy artwork, and employ 3 generations of artists on commission (where the transaction occurs before the artwork is created) rather than on speculation (where the artist finds a buyer after creating the artwork). The grandfather artist has been coming to the hotel to paint nearly everyday for 20 years, and now his son and grandson accompany him. They copy historical works, Indian miniature painting and the like, which are displayed in the hotel and (I’m sure) sold for profit to gullible tourists like me. So picture me drinking sweetened milk chai on the rooftop garden of our hotel with a river view while enjoying artists paint and monkeys scamper on the railings. Here’s an image of the grandfather artist copying a painting:Copy art

Part of the overwhelmingness of Varanasi is its association with the cycle of life and death. To die in Varanasi and especially along the banks of the Ganges River is most auspicious for Hindus and an almost guaranteed way to achieve moksha (release from rebirth). I’m sure you know that Hindus believe in reincarnation after death, but the whole goal is to escape that cycle of rebirth and achieve true union with God. So even though we think of Hinduism as polytheistic, at its core is monotheism. Those who want to achieve that spiritual union come to Varanasi to die in “death hostels” along the riverbank so they’ll be that much closer to the cremation ghats. This could be why there’s such a distinction here between hotels for Hindus and hotels for non-Hindus and foreigners. We were told that Varanasi has 84 ghats (access stairs or platforms at river’s edge) but only a few are reserved for cremations. However since this city is the beating heart and soul of Hinduism, cremations occur 24/7 with at least 30,000 cremations every year (around 100/day). These are done in open air and in public view, hence the overwhelmingness of the city. The same plein-air cremations occur in Nepal and the rest of India, but not to the same extent. The air is constantly thick with smoke and I’ve discovered that I’m allergic to cremating bodies…not exactly something I’ll report on my next doctor’s visit. The bodies of the deceased are prepared and carried through the small lanes to the water. In fact the morning we left, we were walking through the lanes to catch a rickshaw to our hotel when we saw a body just laying in the middle of the walkway as it was prepared and wrapped for the final journey. Seconds later, I was accosted by an overly aggressive postcard vendor who, when I told him to leave me alone and have some respect for the dead, barked, “Varanasi is a nice city and people like you aren’t welcome here and shouldn’t return.” This little story is probably a good example of the “take-no-prisoners” guidebook quote.

Prayag Ghat

Varanasi Ghats

 

Despite the emotional rollercoaster complete with guilt trip sales pitch, I still had a wonderful time. We went on several dawn boat rides to watch the sunrise on the Ganges. We visited a copy of Kathmandu’s Pashupati Temple for visiting Nepalis, where I could actually go inside to view the garba griha (temple’s inner sanctum) unlike the original Pashupati in Kathmandu, which is reserved for Hindus. We saw the evening aarti (river worship) ceremony and it was great even if it’s performed primarily for tourists. The food we ate was delicious and I took advantage of the range of Indian food that doesn’t really exist at Indian restaurants in the United States, where the fare is mostly Punjabi. I love Indian breads dipped into different dhaals (lentils), vegetables, or dairy products such as yogurt or paneer (cheese) and let me tell you, there’s more than just naan bread in India. Plain or potato parantha is my current favorite but chapati is a simpler but equally delicious flatbread. South Indian breads and snacks are very popular throughout India and I ate my share of idli, a fermented dhaal/rice bread, and paper-thin dosa breads scooped into or covered in rich sambars. Bread and sambar makes a perfect breakfast comfort food that may replace my American egg and hashbrown breakfast cravings! Thank god there are a few good South Indian snack shops in Kathmandu where I can continue to indulge my taste buds for the next couple months. Yum!

Varanasi is particularly renowned for their silks and brocades, so you can bet I took advantage of the silk factories and markets! If my “sis” is reading this, she can look forward to a fancy new silk outfit for next year. Varanasi’s silk industry is entirely run by its large Muslim population. Despite being a Hindi epicenter, upwards of 40% of the population is Muslim, which reminds me of the old Delhi Muslim neighborhoods. Close to Varanasi are several of the major Buddhist pilgrimage sites such as Sarnath, Kushinagar and Bodhgaya. I guess all that cosmic energy attracts a diverse crowd.

The cosmic energy on a holy water site was good for my art karma, and I was able to create a slew of new artworks in my water series. I still have a lot of work to do, but I’m very excited about the the new body of work! Here’s a taste of images to come…

Kathryn Hagy splash

In process splash image from Varanasi's Scindhia Ghat





Talk about Nothing (and Everything)

20 09 2010

I’ve been busy these days so I’ll lump a few posts into one instead of breaking posts down topically.

Shiva Bhairava sculpture

Shiva Bhairava (The Terrible One); Nepal; ca. 16th century; Gilt copper alloy; Rubin Museum of Art; C2005.16.14 (HAR 65436)

An American colleague at Kathmandu University Centre for Art and Design, Adam Swart, gave a talk on Himalayan art earlier this week. Adam was a Peace Corps volunteer in Nepal a while back and after returning to the States, began working at the Rubin Museum of (Himalayan) Art in New York City. Now he’s back in Nepal teaching art and working on museum projects. The Rubin was built after I moved away from NYC to Iowa, but it looks spectacular and I’ll have to visit next time I’m in NYC. I checked out their website and I love their current lecture series, a nod to Buddhism, entitled Talk about Nothing. The description states that:

  • “How we perceive and conceive of what is and what isn’t is a universal question. It may, in fact, be the biggest question. It is at the heart of Buddhism’s Diamond Sutra, Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and Einstein’s theory of general relativity. And here at the Rubin Museum of Art–itself, a museum of ideas–we have brought together some of the world’s most active minds to talk about…nothing. There will be a lot to say.”  -Tim McHenry, Producer

Adam discussed the Rubin’s collection scope of Himalayan countries, including Mongolia, which isn’t really that close to the Himalayas but whose work is stylistically similar because, historically, Mongolians employed Himalayan (specifically Newar) artists. He showed representations of objects and images from various Himalayan cultures through time and the ways in which influences traveled from place to place through travel and trade (e.g. Silk Road).

I’ve  been teaching much more lately and my schedule is really filled these days between classes, workshops, my own research, and day-to-day life in Kathmandu. Because Kathmandu is the capital city, there’s a lot happening. I also attended a gallery reception and lecture for an exhibit of Nepali and Indian photographers entitled Rivers of Pilgrimage. Since I’m photographing sacred water sites in Nepal, the exhibit timing couldn’t have been more perfect. There are so many festivals and rituals involving water here (and in India) that I feel like I need another grant to even begin tackling the vastness of this topic! Speaking of water, I attended a fundraiser for Pakistani flood victims the other night. In Cedar Rapids, we were all affected by the 2008 floods somehow, which maybe makes the devastating images from Pakistan hit home for Iowans. The area impacted by the Pakistan floods is larger than the entire country of Nepal. I’ll just let that fact stand on its own.

Kumari on IndraJatra

Kathmandu's Kumari on the eve of the 2007 Indra Jatra (Photo credit: Manjari Shrestha)

There’s a little interruption in life this week because guess what? Another holiday is here! This Wednesday is Indra Jatra to celebrate the symbolic end of the monsoon when, as I mentioned in an earlier post, the Kumari (living child goddess) makes her yearly appearance in Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. You can read more about Kumaris here but briefly, the Kumari is revered and worshipped by Nepali Hindus and some Nepali Buddhists. Kumaris are chosen when they are quite young and their goddess role ends when they reach puberty. The autobiography From Goddess to Mortal, written by former Kumari Rashmila Shakya (in conjunction with author Scott Berry) attempts to dispel Kumari myths such as that it’s bad luck to marry a former Kumari (they do marry, but have to deal with this stigma). Fascinating reading if you have the time and interest. Traditionally, Kumaris bless Nepal’s ruler on Indra Jatra but since Nepal’s monarchy was abolished a few years ago and there is currently no prime minister due to political in-fighting, I’m wondering who the Kumari will bless? I’ll let you know when I find out.





16 09 2010
Sundarijal on the Bagmati River

Sundarijal on the Bagmati River

Last time I visited Nepal, I was dying to see a place called Sundarijal, but we never made it for various reasons. The name Sundarijal means “beautiful waters” and if you’ve seen my artwork, you’d understand why I wanted to go there. Located in Shivapuri National Park, Sundarijal is a watershed for Kathmandu Valley where several tributaries of the Bagmati River converge and cascade down the hills and mountains into raging waterfalls that are especially forceful right now because of the monsoon rains. I finally went this week! Through a Facebook chat session, I recruited my bhanja (nephew) Bharat to be my guide, translator and body guard. Bharat’s older brother Dilip is currently an art major at Kirkwood Community College in Iowa. Bharat had never been to Sundarijal so he was just as excited as I was.

The trailhead was an hour from downtown by bus and the official park entrance was another hour walk (uphill). Nepali citizens pay an entrance fee of 10 rupees and foreigners pay 250 rupees – a pretty steep markup! Still, that only translates to about $3.50 for me, so I can’t complain. Bharat talked to one man who told him about a place on the trail called Chisopani where we’d have a view of the entire Kathmandu Valley. He said it wasn’t far. Everyone we talked to along the way said, Yeah, yeah, keep walking and you’ll get there, it’s not far. The problem is that Nepali people don’t like to give  “I don’t know” answers because they lose face. They were telling the truth when they said we’d get there if we kept walking. But it turns out that Chisopani is a full day’s hike. In Nepali, Chisopani means “cold water” and we didn’t have enough chiso pani to get to Chisopani! Bharat was crestfallen, but I was secretly glad to find out we’d have to turn back because my poor knees were dying after walking 2+ hours uphill. Plus, it was about 80 degrees that day.

But I have to say, the pain was worth it because the sights were amazing! We walked beyond the riverbank to terraced rice fields. Bharat, originally from rural Nepal, decided we could shortcut through the rice paddies on farmer’s footpaths and along farmhouses where we’d occasionally stop for directions. Corn cobs hung from balconies. Corn kernels dried on blankets in the sun. Cute little goats were everywhere. We didn’t make it to Chisopani but there was still a valley view from our highest point. I’ll shut up now and share some images.

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Portfolio of splash images…

22 06 2009