This morning Joel, Mac, and I were sitting at our dining table in the communal room each doing our own thing. Joel was diligently pouring over international emails and directing the building of the Buddhist shrine, Mac was pounding through an old bi-lingual Kathmandu cookbook she found stashed in the kitchen that was written by the wives of international delegates, and I was staring at the clouds roll over the not so distant mountains after reading the transcript of a recent teaching by Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche. Ben was up on the roof running through his daily yoga practice and Lee was giving Marcela a ride to visit the new location of a satellite clinic. This was kind of a typical Sunday morning. Saturdays we usually spend doing laundry and running around while Sundays are typically dedicated to gathering our minds and bodies, resting our souls, strengthening, and preparing for a new week of treatment, instruction, and fortifying our beds against the merciless nightly attacks of the Kathmandu mosquitoes.
We all have adopted Joel as our cool uncle and good friend. As a Thai-American who has spent the last thirteen years in Nepal, his knowledge and experience is invaluable. Whether it be Buddhism, Nepali culture, or life advice, Joel always stops what he’s doing to listen and share – always with a smile and a laugh. This morning was no different.
Mac and I were sitting across from each other while she was explaining to me the characteristics of ghee and the benefits of cooking with it. We shared a good joke a hearty laugh and changed the subject to culture.
“Hey Joel, how do you say I’m sorry in Nepali.”
Mac and I knew that when Joel closed his laptop to address us, this was going to be a good lesson. Ahhh, time for class to begin.
As a Westerner, I was raised to always say thank you as a beneficiary of kindness and benevolence. I’m sorry always followed any perceived or actual slight, mistake, and/or offence that I caused. So far I’ve been blessed in my life with countless opportunities and reasons to utter thank you. Unfortunately, I also have had countless reasons to sadly mutter I’m sorry. These two phrases have proven to lose some of their weight and value in my overabundance of their use.
My perceived problem with these two phrases is that, much like the Nepali Rupee, they have become over-inflated. Words, when not backed-up with sincere action, are cheap and cheaply used. A thank you without the sincerest meaning and without the desire or earnest attempt at reciprocation has the danger of becoming another cliché.
The same can be said of I’m sorry. I generally mumble this apology with a lowered head and shrugged shoulders when my speech or action has caused harm or made life even a little more difficult and uncomfortable for another. I’m sorry is always supposed to be followed with an earnest attempt to modify one’s life to ensure that the apology will never again be needed for the same reason. I’d love to say that my thank you’s and I’m sorry’s always meet these standards…hmm, I’d love to say it.
So, now we come to Nepal. Aphsos I’m sorry and Dhanyabaad thank you are rarely uttered.
Do something nice for someone and often you won’t receive a thank you. After a month of dhanyabaads and receiving in return strange looks and even giggles, I started to get a little self-conscious over my pleasant manners. Was this an inside Nepali joke of which I’m not aware? I don’t care…I’m going to force my Western values down their throats until they accept my niceness and courtesy.
“So Joel, how do you say I’m sorry in Nepali? I’d love to know for those occasions that I hit a tender point in the middle of someone’s back a little too aggressively.” After Joel’s quick lesson on the nuances of Nepali culture, I learned that the best way to say I’m sorry is to not have a reason to say it.
For a month I’ve been focusing my attention in the wrong place – being nice. The most important word in Nepal and one that I hear and exchange constantly is NAMASTE the divine in me greets the divine in you. Namaste is much more powerful than I’m sorry and thank you could ever be. By truly recognizing the divinity and the holiness in each person I meet and greet, there is no need for those overused phrases.
The lesson I learned on a sunny Sunday morning while sitting at a table in Chapagoan and listening to two wise people is that if I truly treat each person as if he/she is a vessel for divinity then there is no need to trouble myself with Thank You and I’m Sorry.
NAMASTE!!!
PS: Hugs and kisses from MollyMac to all her friends and family. She’s doing splendidly and is now cooking dinner for us all.
