This is earlier this week: I woke up at 5 a.m. and went
running in a rocky, weedy, wobbly piece of land that an orphanage and prayer
rooms will be built for Karuna Home.
It’s the safest place, though, because the main road is the road near us
and people die on it all the time. It
was really lumpy and muddy and it was only ½ mile per lap, and only if we got
creative during the laps with crisscrossing and the like.
Tibetan camps. After
running, showering and breakfasting, we went to get my protected area permit
from the police station. We thereafter
took a rickshaw to town and bought groceries and other necessary items. After this we met up with Beau and Lori and
went to the Golden Temple and the Tibetan settlement camps. It is the most auspicious day in Tibetan Buddhism. Today is Saka Dawa, the day the Buddha was
enlightened. Karma counts twice as much
today, I’ve been told, and because of this, many offerings and rituals were
being done at the Golden Temple and throughout the camps. It was spectacular. Seeing the monks and the people worshipping
was beautiful. The sounds, the smells, the sights, all of it was sort of
unreal. I kept thinking of my brother
Brandon the whole time, who really was born in the wrong part of the
world. He should be among monks. I also let my thoughts wonder to the “Free
Tibet” movement while passing shops selling shirts, purses, bags, and other
items with the phrase printed on them.
As I was witnessing the worshipping and reading the phrase and
reflecting on Tibet, Tibet, I began
to feel a strong sense of connection to the need for the movement, and a
completely different interpretation of what it means. These people really have been in physical,
spiritual, and cultural bondage in many ways, and yet what they have to offer
to the world is beautiful and such an asset.
Without getting uncomfortably emotional, let it be noted that I was
totally floored by what I saw today.
Children’s
performance. Upon returning to Karuna Home, we were able to have a feast
and watch a performance by the students.
I cried silently, of course, at the end of nearly every performance.
Children with physical disabilities and mental disabilities—some mild, but most
severe—were the stars of the show, and the people really loved seeing
them. No one was pitying them, they were
admiring them. It was fantastic. I knew that these children are regularly
relegated to beggars or other positions in life because of confused societal
norms or inability to sustain them, but at Karuna they live. They have such meaning in their lives. My
participation was limited to sitting in the front row (!!) with my fellow BYU
classmates and other visitors and monks while we ate snacks and drank
soda. At the very end of all the dances
and song numbers the kids pulled us up to dance in front of everyone. My dancing is like that of Elaine from
Seinfeld, so they got the show of their lives.
My classmates probably felt ashamed when they saw the way my body
moves.
Research. The
people here are extremely eager about getting teacher training from a special
educator in a master’s program. I think
my sort of presence here is unusual—especially my being American. Well I’m a Young American. Like David Bowie says. I’m a young American
researcher/teacher/master’s student with many years experience and a very
confused sense of humor. The point is,
people don’t want me sitting around here for three months watching them I
guess. Who would have thought?
After talking with two beloved professors from the excellent
BYU, I’m relieved and happy to move forward with research. They said it’s normal for ethnographies/case
studies to have changing elements, and that I must complete my research as
planned (at least interviewing and observing portions) prior to any training of
staff, and that I could complete this in a shorter amount of time if things go
well and train after. Completing big parts of the original research more
quickly means I will be staying at Karuna thereafter entirely to train and
volunteer and do other interesting research. This makes me terribly happy,
as I sometimes resent that I'm not intervening. Soon!
