Friday, November 9, 2012

Day 64

As an officially Hindu state, and the only one in the world, Nepal is an intensely spiritual place. Kathmandu is speckled with countless temples, both small and grand, where Nepali's make daily offerings to each of the mystical gods and goddesses. While the city is attempting to rapidly modernize, building plans are revolved around the centuries old religious structures, leaving malls woven between Laxmi temples and Shiva lingams. On Sunday, we visited one of the most powerful places I have ever experienced, not because of any individual religious connection, but because of the undeniable interconnectedness of all life that penetrates this place. Pashupatinath is where cremations are held. Lying along a murky river which flows through Kathmandu are countless temples and cement ledges upon which the bodies of the dead are burned. Families dress in the purest white. Some wail and others are stoic as they carry the body of their loved one to the funeral pyre. I sat along the river, opposite the burning logs, brush, and flesh, and watched as families performed the final death rites and rituals. It was intense to say the least. I found myself crying in echo of the family members, for their relatives and for mine. At Pashupati, where even the royal family has been cremated for generations, death is made public. Whereas in the U.S., grief is private, and often suppressed or hidden, Nepali's, both Hindu's and Buddhist's recognize death as an inseperable part of life. Further, many travel to Pashupati as newlyweds or with a newborn infant to receive blessings from the Hindu swami's and baba's, or renounciates. Thus making this place of cremation just as well a symbol for beginnings. What an incredible intersection of spirituality!! And of course this is all in accordance with the Hindu belief in reincarnation, the life/death/life cycle that characterizes the entire infinite universe. And while many in the East spiritually believe that all beings are innately interconnected, I think we can all at least agree that we are unified by the experience of loss. Even if one has never endured the death of a loved one - it could be the loss of a spouse, a friend, a home, a job, even a shoe, we have all experienced how it feels to have something taken from us. By no means am I trying to say that the loss of a material item is equal to the loss of a grandfather, but maybe through this universal experience of loss we can learn compassion.
The only thing that was really a bummer about Pashupati was the mass of tourists with their huge multi-thousand dollar cameras taking pictures of the burning bodies. How inconsiderate! That's someone's family member! Damn tourists! (Ke garne, what to do. Maybe I should develop compassion for them too).

"Para mi solo recorrer los caminos que tienen corazon, cualquier camino que tenga corazon. Por ahi yo recorro, y la unica prueba que vale es atravesar todo su largo. Y por ahi yo recorro mirando, mirando sin aliento. (For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse it's full length and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.)"
- Don Juan Matus

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