Circumnavigating a Tibetan monastery (clockwise of course!) is a wonderful experience.  I walked slowly, letting my hands glide from one prayer wheel to the next, all the while watching an elderly Tibetan woman in front of me doing the same.  The feeling of the spinning wheels is simultaneously soothing and energizing; they whirl so quickly while I slowly float along the path. This monastery is in a small town called Kushalnagar, at the base of the Western Ghats mountain range in Karnataka.  The hills are subdued here, and fields of corn and tobacco stretch out across the landscape.

It is a strange place to find a bunch of Tibetans.  Being forced into exile is hard to imagine for most people, especially the dramatic shift from highest-altitude alpine landscape to the tropics.  But here they are, by the grace of the Indian government, which gave them some land on which to live – a refugee settlement in southern India.  There are about 20,000 Tibetans living here, and many of the men have populated 5 monasteries, where they continue their traditions of Buddhist meditation and prayer.  It is a peaceful place, and wildly different than the normal south Indian atmosphere.  Tibetan words replace the Kannada script on street signs – even signs to discourage cars from honking, which would disrupt the peace, just about opposite from your typical Indian-town cacophony.  The monks seem to glide through the streets in their red-and-yellow robes.  Likewise, the town is remarkably clean for an Indian town - the Tibetans seem to take some pride in maintaining a sense of serenity here, and it shows.  The occasional smells of incense and spices waft through the air as we walk, exploring the narrow streets and large empty courtyards, which are scattered throughout the town.

We visit the Golden Temple and the Sera monastery and university, a place where monks study the ancient Buddhist texts and traditions.  The Dalai Lama visits here just about every year, to uplift the spirits of the refugees and give his blessings.  The area around the temples is gorgeous, with big leafy trees dotting serene gardens.  In the distance you can just make out the sound of a couple hundred monks chanting, whilst the pure tones of singing bowls hover in the energized air.
We sit for tea – about 3 or 4 times – a respite that is commonplace in Kushalnagar and India as a whole.  The café owner has a small TV and excellent stereo system, which shows some over-the-top Tibetan music videos.  The videos seem to be concerned with one thing – exile.  You will see a Tibetan singer on the top of the world, with the wind rushing through his robes in a vast Himalayan landscape, singing beautiful and melancholy melodies, with interspersed footage of the Dalai Lama.  The depth of sadness could be hard to comprehend fully – but I try to empathize.  The pain of having your culture ravaged, being forced to leave your home and family to live thousands of miles away – knowing that you will likely never see those mountains again in your life – even in my brief experience with these people, that feeling is present now and I won’t forget it.  Just then, a small group of Tibetan boys rushes past in their red-and-yellow robes, giggling to each other about who knows what.  One of them has a hoop, which he is gleefully rolling along the stone courtyard - their laughter releases the pressure of the moment and I smile, so grateful for this experience.

For more stories from India - check out my girlfriend Erin’s blog:  erininthehills.blogspot.com

Tags: farmland, india, kushalnagar, monastery, temple, tibet, tibetans

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