The Mission is Over (for now)

This is not the end of a chapter in my life but a wonderful beginning. I’m sitting in Delhi Airport with five hours before my flight to Chicago and I can’t help but being overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude.

Thank you to my family, all my friends and teachers without whose love and support I could never have made this journey in my life.

Thanks to MMW for pointing me in the right direction.

Thank you to the team at Vajra Varahi clinic:

Nicky you have a wonderful clinic and its success is due to your dedication and devotion.

Marce you greeted me at the door on a rainy Friday evening, yelled at me to take off my 

shoes, and have been a wonderful source of support and kindness since.

Joel it was an honor to meet you. Thank you for sharing with me your knowledge, experience, and advice. I hope to once again learn from you.

Lee, my British brother, you’ve taught me that life is much more fun and interesting if you               challenge it with a smile and meet it head-on.

Mac, Dayna, and Ben you’ve showed me how to treat patients with compassion and love.

You are amazing doctors.

My Nepali brothers and sisters: Prajwal, Satyamohan, Tsering, Ritesh and Manesha. You              accepted me for who I am and have been patient, loving and understanding. I will always               treasure what you have done for me.

Thank you to Ratna. You are one of the wisest people I know. Thank you for sitting with me, teaching me, and talking to me. I do miss our conversations.

And special thanks to HH Phakchok Rinpoche. You took time out of your busy schedule several times to talk with us and me. You are a great man and I greatly appreciate your candor and your vision. I hope you’ll allow me to have an audience with you once again soon.

Thank you to the Namo Buddha team:

Lama Yonten you brought me in and made me feel at home. I do not take lightly the trust you   have given me.

Jamyang Dorje I will meet you again. Your dedication, compassion, and knowledge inspire me   to work harder and be better.

Karma Norphel I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You have been a great friend and a   wonderful source of support.

Thank you to Lama Ritzen for the instruction and the tour – you make the world much more beautiful with your work. Khenpo Sherab for being patient and trusting me. Nyima, Dorje and Yamchung you always brought a smile to my face and made me feel at home. Michelle and Rima for all your support and friendship-we will work together again soon.

I invite you all to please visit these sites and learn more about the mission of these two wonderful and compassionate organizations. My work in Nepal is but a small drop in an ocean of the good that they do. If you can, please make a donation so that they can continue their mission. The money you give will help continue their work (and donations are tax deductible).

Vajra Varahi Health Care Clinic -               http://www.cglf.org/projects/activity.html

Namo Buddha Clinic -                                  http://www.namo-buddha.org/clinic.html

Himalayan Children's Fund -                      http://www.rinpoche.com/hcf.html

** I do apologize for the lack of updates in the last couple of months. I could easily blame the lack of internet connectivity (which there was), but I really did throw myself into my practice while at Namo Buddha. In the next several days I’ll make one more post with just pictures of my experiences at NB. Now that I am in the states please feel free to contact me jabkij@gmail.com if you would like to know more about my humbling yet amazing experience or maybe even if you’re interested in volunteering in Nepal.

Dr. Joe ?!?

“Doctor, can you help?”

 The humility I feel when I hear this question is indescribable.

Yes, the clinic is only open three days a week, but I’m on-call all the time. I’ll be lying in bed being lazy and spending an off afternoon reading when there is a knock on my door. Sometimes there isn’t even a need for words, “just show me where it hurts.” Sometimes I’ll be sitting in the canteen having a cup of tea when a monk walks up to me and points to his shoulders. Sometimes I’ll be walking back from lunch and a student in the school asks for a session. Sometimes the evening is rolling in and Lama tells me that someone is having trouble with pain and is coming to the clinic to see me.

Each time this happens I am filled with a sense of humility, responsibility, and honor. Whenever a monk asks for my help it’s always respectfully and sometimes bashfully. What they don’t understand is that I would work with them day and night if given the opportunity. The trust that they have in me and the friendship that they have extended to me has made me feel like a part of their family.

 Therapeutic and Mindful

Western/Eastern Massage and Bodywork

By Dr. Joe

NPR’s 500 / 45 minutes

Time:     4:00 – 6:00 PM

All the funds go to

Thrangu Free Clinic

This is a sign that hangs in the canteen and is in the guest houses at the monastery. With the clinic only officially open three days per week with the services directed toward the villagers, I thought that it might be a good idea to extend my practice to visitors and travellers. The clinic, like the school and the rest of the monastery, operates on the generosity of sponsors and donators. The medicine for the villagers, the treatment of the monks, and my board and housing are all made possible through a network of compassionate and kind givers throughout the world. Already on an extremely tight budget, I wanted to find another way to contribute and repay the kindness and generosity that has been extended to me. Humbly, I asked Jamyang if offering my practice to western visitors for a fee would be allowed outside the operating hours of the clinic. Like me, he thought it would be a great opportunity for the clinic and for my practice and created the sign.

So now I work with villagers three days, visitors in the evenings, and the monks whenever and wherever they could catch me. It has taken a little while, but finally my practice has become well interwoven with my daily life. I’ve learned that the two are not exclusive of each other. I cannot treat patients effectively unless I work on and improve my practice of mindfulness and compassion each waking moment. It’s with a complete sense of gratitude that I’m able to practice and grow in this wonderful place.

Peace and Namaste!!!

The Daily Grind

Namo Buddha is the site where, moved by extreme selflessness and compassion, Prince Ngingdui Tshenpo offered his flesh and blood to a starving tigress and her five cubs. The prince would then be reincarnated as Guatama Buddha.

This is my new assignment in Nepal. Here, about 2,000 meters above sea level and surrounded by large rolling hills and scattered villages, I am to continue my practice with the villagers and the monks of the monastery. Here I will also continue my education of compassion, impermanence, ego, and love.

My new home is much different than my home in Chapagaon where I spent the last three months. At Namo Buddha the clinic is only open three days: Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Unlike my previous assignment, I am pretty much on my own: there are no other westerners; no other body workers; no exclusive interpreter; no massage table; no internet; very limited cell service; and complete immersion into the Buddhist monastic life. Ahhhh, it sounds difficult and maybe unworkable, but here I’ve been learning that the only things that prevent me from doing good are my pride and my ego.

Although my situation may sound difficult, the support that I have been receiving here has been incredible. Lama Yonten is the clinic director. When I first arrived on July 1, Lama invited me into his office to express his expectations and to find out more about what I could do. He saw in me more than I saw in myself and was ready to entrust the care of the villagers into my trembling hands. Lama was the first monk that trusted me enough to ask for my help with some back and shoulder pain. During my time here he has been a gracious host in is home. Jamyang  Dorje is the operating manager and a brilliant monk. With compassion and a light heart he treats villagers and monks with everything from cuts to serious illnesses. He is my go-to guy. When I need something or have questions he is always willing to offer his help. And then there’s Karma Norphel. Karma has been my best friend here. His main job is to work the reception and pharmacy in the clinic. Even when he is overwhelmed with villagers all I have to do is poke my sad head in through the pharmacy window and say please help me and he drops what he’s doing to come and translate for me. When Lama is off teaching and Jamyang is off organizing another health-fare, it is Karma that keeps me entertained and answers my often naive questions about Dharma and the life of the monks.  These three monks have turned a very scary and difficult situation for me into one of great learning and great reward. There are many more monks here that have and continue to make this a wonderful experience. Without their support I shudder to think what a mess I would be.

My typical Monday…

06:00     Wake-up: usually I do this on my own. There are, however, many times that it’s Karma’s banging on my door telling me breakfast is ready that rouses me from my slumber.

07:00     Breakfast. Some habits have been hard to break. Unless someone brings breakfast or we decide to make it together, I’m happy with a cup of coffee while watching the clouds and morning fog move across the valley.

08:00     Shower. Most buildings in Nepal use solar panels to heat the water. Well this is monsoon season. Many mornings I wake the villagers with my screams from the cold shower.

08:30     Walk. This has become a regular practice. Most mornings I walk down the hill to the village because that’s one of the few places I can get a cell signal. It also gives me a chance to meet and play with the resident pack of dogs that protect us from intruders.

09:30     Clinic. Most work mornings I go down to the clinic a little early to set-up my treatment table open the windows and get ready for the patients.

10:00     Treatment. Now the people start to come. Knees, backs, shoulders, feet, etc.

11:45     Lunch. Here I eat lunch in a large dining hall with a hundred other monks (breakfast and dinner are also in the dining hall, but I rarely take advantage). The food is typical Tibetan and Nepali. I have never eaten so well. You can eat as much as you want, but the actual eating only lasts about ten minutes, so eat fast.

12:30     Canteen. The canteen is a general store for supplies, a café, and a hang-out for everybody. It’s a great place to make connections, have a few laughs, and treat locals, monks, and visitors.

13:00     Clinic. Back to work.

16:00     Tea. This is usually the end of the work day. We gather in the kitchen or sit on the terrace and share tea and stories.

18:00     Dinner. Sometimes I do go to the dining hall, sometimes we all make dinner in the kitchen, sometimes I’ll just stick to some simple noodles.

19:00     Canteen. The day winds down at the canteen. Here I sit most evenings and listen to stories (mostly in Tibetan or Nepali so I don’t understand what is being said), sometimes a game of cricket or soccer breaks out.

20:00     Walk/Read/Meditate/Sit

24:00     Sleep

If I had to give a schedule for a work day, this is it. Later I’ll explain how my life here is far too interesting to be scheduled so easily.

Peace and Namaste.

Namo Buddha - My New Home

This is such a special place. The Thrangu Tashi Yangste Monastery, above Namo Buddha, sits about 2,000 meters on a peak in the southern highlands of Nepal just east of the Kathmandu Valley. The hills are pock-marked with small villages, tall trees, vagrant leopards, and muddy roads. The weather is much cooler than the valley and I spend countless moments sitting on the roof of the health clinic experiencing being swallowed by vast, rolling clouds.

After lunch on July 01, I loaded my bags into a waiting taxi, exchanged heartfelt good-byes with my partners and took off down the rainy road to my new adventure. My knowledge of Namo Buddha and was limited to its location, distance from Chapagaon, and the length of my stay there as a therapist. The two-hour cab ride turned into almost four hours. That was my first sign that this would be, at the very least, an interesting experience and a memorable adventure. About half way up the muddy road, the cab got stuck. The deep trenches proved to be much too treacherous for the small car. Each time it lunged forward the wheels dug in deeper and large rocks scraped the bottom of the vehicle.

After several attempts the driver pulled over, shook his head, and in broken English declared, “no way.” To his credit, he didn’t throw me out. We were still about 6km away from the top and there was no way that I could carry my load alone up the hill in knee deep mud. We both got out of the cab and he lit a cigarette while, what seemed like, getting instructions from three boys fascinated by a cab and a white guy stuck half-way up a mountain. He pulled out his cell and made a phone call. I’m slowly learning that it’s customary for Nepali men to raise their voice when frustrated – not so much in anger as much as a need for the other party to clearly understand a situation. He shook his head and handed the phone to me. It was my friend from Chapagaon, Prajwal. Ahhhh, finally a friendly voice. His instructions were simple: call the monastery, tell them to send help because the driver can’t make it up, and then call him back. BLAHHHHHHHH!!!! Thanks for the advice Prajwal. What else could I do, but make the call.

A week before I had the fore-sight to purchase a Nepal cell phone. My thought was that it would make for a great way to stay in touch with my Nepali friends and if the occasion arose, emergencies. I called the monastery and spoke briefly sharing my predicament with a couple monks, before they told me to pass the phone to the driver. He spoke with them at length before handing the phone back to me – no one was on the other end and I couldn’t talk with the driver. My limited vocabulary of four Nepali words proves to be a bit lacking. So, we stood there looking at each other while he kept mumbling, “no way.” Ahhh, I guess this is how the universe speaks to me.

Some tense moments passed before I heard the telling jingle ringing from my hand. It was my phone – they called back. Good news, “Hello, this is Lama Yonten. Our van is in Kathmandu, so we can’t pick you up. Soon (an hour or two) a bus will come your way. Take the bus up to the top of the hill and call us; we’ll meet you. Whatever you do, don’t let the driver leave until the bus arrives. Good-bye. Now let me talk to the driver.” What else was there to do, but accept this situation as just another character-building event in Nepal.

I sat down on a rock overlooking the valley and tried to make myself comfortable. This may be a long wait. The urge to laugh became overwhelming and I broke out into a goofy chuckle. It must have been that laughter that scared the driver into his car. The engine turned over, he put it in gear, I turned around and saw him drive off. I’m not sure if it was fear, dinner, sense of responsibility, personal challenge, or just annoyance, but he flew through the mud. When he reached a small crest, the cab stopped and waving hand out the window invited me to run up to him. Once again we were on the move. This time it was with the determination to not let the muddy road get the better of us.

Finally we reached a little hamlet at a crossroad. An old wooden sign with the destination Namo Buddha carved into it on a post pointed down a little hill to the right. Ahhhh, that must be it. Finally, I’m home. We drove the couple hundred meters through the muddy town until we reached a barrier. An ornate gateway with a concrete step told us that this is it. I jumped out of the cab and called the contact number that I had, “We’re here. I’m standing near the stupa.” The voice at the other end told me to wait right where I am and he’ll come down to greet me. I unloaded my bags, paid and thanked the driver, and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited.

Hmmm, that was another lesson that I learned that day: Namo Buddha, the town, is different from Namo Buddha the monastery. After a while of standing in the mud with my bags being amused by the antics of roosters chasing each other, I saw two monks walking towards me. “Doctor Joe?” OK, Im not a doctor, but that never stops me from being amused and feeling warm and fuzzy. I’m not really a doctor, but I play one in Nepal. We grabbed my bags and walked through the gate to a little café next to the stupa. Karma, the monk that greeted me and the young man who will become my Nepali and Tibetan voice while I stay here, asked if it would be OK if he does a kora around the stupa a couple of times before we go up. “Of course, I’ll sit here.”

“OK, let’s go.” Karma instructed me after he returned to my side.

“Are we going to the clinic? How far is it?” I asked like an impatient five year old at the end of a long family road trip.

“From here, just six minutes.”

Hahaha…it was six minutes (more like twenty with my bags) up a steep concrete road. The three of us managed the bags pretty well until we reached the top and I got my first glance at the beautiful monastery. I’m still amazed by the site even after seeing it so many times. We entered the first building on the left – the clinic and my new home.