A Safe Journey, A Safe Return!

Phurba Dorji: A seven year old monk blesses a visitor!!

What is your name?

What do you like to eat? Hear his friend whisper 'banana'.  In the video that I took on my semi prof video camera he had said he liked Chocolates! 

What do you like to drink?

What time do you wake up in the morning? 

After I interviewed him I saw him play with his friends--just like any other child......After all 7 year olds the world over are the same.

I see a safe journey, I see a safe return

May I become at all times, both now and forever
A protector for those without protection
A guide for those who have lost their way
A ship for those with oceans to cross
A bridge for those with rivers to cross
A sanctuary for those in danger
A lamp for those without light
A place of refuge for those who lack shelter
And a servant to all in need. 

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama

The Dzong, is the first major building you see as you drive from Paro airport towards the town.  It is colored in the same colors as all buildings in Bhutan.  But the first day is when you notice it.  It leaves a sense of calm in you.
The building is painted white on the outside and all the windows and roof work is done in Bhutanese style.  Most of the buildings in the country are built that way to keep a uniformity.  The Dzongs are the fortress like structures.  Only they are meant to train the monks.

In all the Buddhist countries that I have been to so far, there is a wisdom that underlies many things. I am sure there is corruption and other wrong doings, that result from ego. But it does seem that they work from a stand point of developing the character of an individual.  Often those who are too poor to send their children to school send them to the Dzongs.  The young are then trained in reading and writing, the language of the country, and knowledge of the mind.  Other than getting education, these young men are made to think of character and its significance.  The focus is on impermanence and therefore a persistence in joy. 

In Lao, the young monks usually stayed in these monasteries till they were twenty and then joined the real world. In Thailand many adults, after being disillusioned by the 'real world' come to the monasteries as a refuge to save their souls.

In Bhutan, where like all buddhist countries, sending children to monasteries is considered praiseworthy, families often pride in sending one of their children to the Dzong --to get an education that might save the entire family.  

So, about ten days before I left, I finally made it to the Dzong.  It was a nice 25 minute walk from hotel to town.  And then about 10 minutes of an uphill walk that must equal an hour of walking.  When I arrived there, I was huffing and puffing.  But seeing the red robes of the monk flutter in the wind against the white backdrop of the fortress like building brought me the well needed rest.

The fun part about Bhutan was that most people spoke hindi.  After generic talk with the guard and other monks, I walked in.

One of the thing as a traveller is that you must have the time to actually understand the country.  Not in the country but before you arrive there.  I, am embarrassed to say that I do not do that.  But that is because my goal is different.  I never arrive as a tourist.  I arrive as a person.  I meet other people, make friends and  leave with friends.  But I learn much, because often I get the inside story.

So, when I enter these monasteries and temples, which after the first few all look the same, I look for the human element.

This time, I spoke with young monks, who were not very well versed in english.  I took some pictures --of Paro Cho (River Paro), some shots of the river and the surrounding area of the Dzong, was lucky enough to get an amazing shot of a plane flying above the mountains.  

And then I asked the monk if I could just stay inside the monastery for a short while, in silence.  They agreed.

I set my timer and sat there.  I could feel the gentle glow of the  butter lamps, sense the gaze of Buddhas carved in stone, breathe the colors inside the monastery.  It must have been only a few minutes when I heard this pitter patter.

I turned around to see this tiny thing fixing his robes. 

The littlest monk....7 years--my nephew's age.  But with a big commanding name--Phurba Dorji!!

I could not hold my chuckle, and got restless just looking at him.  I wanted to touch his forehead, pull his robe, ask him questions.

He spoke no English, I realized very quickly.  In in a few minutes monks of all sizes were around me. This tiny one ran out with the ones his size--probably playing a game of catch.

I could no longer sit in peace, I had to capture this.  

I went outside and I hugged him.  In fact, I could not stop hugging and kissing him.

Older monks helped me converse with him.  

What do you want to be?  What do you like to eat?  What do you like to drink is what I asked him.

His friend who was a year older translated some for him.  The older monk, who understood better, kept our conversation alive.  But interestingly enough there was a 7 year old-- a non-monk, who translated english to Dzongkha just as well.  Children in Bhutan learn both Dzongkha and English in schools. 

His father passed away, and the mother has six other children.  He was sent to the Dzong to become a monk, only a month ago.  So, the newest monk.  A month old....  

I told him that i will take him with me in my bag, if he was ready to come with me. 

I asked him who was his favorite sibling? 

'Mom' he said.

He told me that he aspires to be the head lama.  I told him he had to bless me now, since I wont be allowed to hug when he is the big shot!! 

He giggled at least 6 times before the other monk got this shot from my camera....

Readers will be happy to know that on my next planned visit, I took him bottles of mango juice and some chocolates, as he had asked me to.