Chiang Mai - November 2006

Looking up through the haze and smog of the northern Thai capital of Chiang Mai, Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep shimmers like a golden dream. Its golden stupa pierces the dark green forest and rises into the deep blue skies above the city of Chiang Mai and the holy mountain of Doi Suthep. A deeply sacred and revered site amongst Thai Buddists, the temple has been the spiritual guardian of the city since the 14th century. Making the journey up from the city, its not hard too see why. Colour abounds, brilliant polished white marble floors are pierced with purple and red blooming trees, gold and red Lanna Buddhist temples are intricately laid with bright mosaics and woven with gold leaf as orange robed and shaved headed monks bob and weave through the pilgrims. Excuisite Buddha images, colour, singing birds and burning incense and unparralled views over the city and the entire valley below combine to make this a truly sublime setting.

Doi Suthep sees hundreds of visitors daily. Most visitors are Thai and come during the daytime to offer prayers and mill around excitedly in large groups, as only Thai people do. Three years ago the monastery began taking falang or foreigners, for short stays, in order to practice meditation under the guidance of Buddhist monks. It is preferred that you take a ten or twenty-one day 'introduction' course, but I am of weak mind, thus I stayed for two nights and three days. The style is known as Vipassanā or 'insight' meditation, and for beginners the aim is to 'quieten down' the mind and to develop concentration and 'mindfulness'. The routine consists of a 4am wake up, followed by two hours group meditation (in the freezing cold mountain morning), 6am breakfast, 8am Dhamma talk, 11am lunch/dinner, followed by a meeting with your teacher at 3pm, then sleep on the hard tiled floor of your bare room at 10pm, all other times are for personal mediation practice.

I can safely say it was the most demanding, difficult and frustrating task I have ever attempted in my life. My mind raced, like a drunk driver out of control, with the most ridiculous thoughts spinning round and round my mind, like how long it would take to find a taxi to take me down from here, or how many thai green curries I've had in Thailand. At times I wondered was I in a reality TV show 'I am a Buddhist Monk Get me out of Here' or walking around in our all white robes, was this actually a mental hospital.

I did however, improve somewhat with practice, now I can do twenty undisturbed minutes (which is not great!). The human mind is incredibly powerful, and both science and ordinary people have a poor and limited understanding of how it works and its potential. Meditation can simply be seen as mental training, just as a marathon runner trains his body to run long distances, mediators are simply training their minds in concentration and application. The mind can be likened to a vast ocean, where in the course of everyday activity, we speed around the surface, frantically skipping one way then another. Meditation attempts to explore the vast, complex and poorly understood depths of the ocean. I left Doi Suthep after three days and I was as high as a kite, probably the best form Ive ever been in, but Im not sure if it was because of the meditation or simply from the fact that I got out.

There are many ideas in Buddhism which are supremely attractive to the modern western mind. The Buddha taught his followers to listen to their teachers, but urged them to always to find out for themselves, to think independently and not to blindly cling to dogma. Each individual has a personal responsibility to seek knowledge and the truth, and always to question received teaching. This factor is also what makes Buddhism diffcult, one must undertake a ardous and demanding personal journey, one that can only be achieved with sheer hard work and correct mental application. Yet it is reassuring to know that everyone of us ha

Katmandu Tuesday 26th Sept 2006

Almost three weeks in Nepal, and my second time to visit this exceptional country. The kingdom of Nepal and the mighty Himalayas are physically wedged between the vast flat plain of the Ganges and the Tibetian highlands, and politically, between the heavyweights of India and China. Immediately, place names - Ganga la, Langtang, Ganesh Himal, Kanchejunga – impress upon the visitor the magical and mystical quality of these great mountains and the people who live here. The inaccessibility and remoteness of the continuous high mountain peaks and valleys has helped generate great diversity, in languages and ethnic groups, as well as landscape, plant and animal life. This in turn has been both a blessing and a great hindrance to Nepal, providing sublimely beautiful landscapes, colourful cultures and mythical history– great for tourism, yet a severe physical impediment the country’s development.

Village life in the overpopulated hills is desperately poor, subsistence farming on difficult hillsides is the norm, and the few tourists, who only visit particular areas, provide the only form of external income. In contrast, the urbanized Katmandu Valley area is relatively prosperous. The valley is a trading and service centre but is also overly reliant on fragile tourist dollars. Despite being small for an Asian capital, Katmandu, due to its location in a high mountain valley surrounded by high mountains, suffers from desperate air pollution and chronic traffic problems which make Dublin look like a doddle. The ten year Maoist insurrection stems from the relative poverty of rural areas and the mismanagement and apathy of the King on his golden throne in Katmandu. Following mass street demonstrations (ie riots and deaths) last April, the King stepped down, and now a fragile caretaker administration has the perilous task of bringing the aggressive and armed Maoist army, who control almost all rural areas outside the Valley, terrorizing Villagers and demanding ‘Maoist tax’ from tourists, into the democratic arena.

The local Maoist commander, who we encountered at their checkpoint not far from the Tibetian border, was stoney faced and steely eyed when I, through an interpreter, tried to explain that I didn’t want to pay the tax, as I didn’t agree with the Maoist Party. Our petrified guide, who told us stories of Maoists breaking guides’ arms, advised we pay in full immediately, and judging from the look in his face, I decided it was best to pay the man. Still, at no stage did I feel under threat in Nepal, and tourists have never been targeted. Despite the perilous state of the country, every visitor remarks on the outstanding friendliness and genuine openness of Nepalis, and in comparison with India, even the hawkers, touts and beggars are chilled out, and always seem to have a smile even when you give them nothing.

I did a whitewater rafting trip with Ultimate Descents for seven days down the Sun Kosi river, which drains the hills of central Nepal and flows across the border to meet the Ganga in India. Fantastic buzz, you cant beat travelling through raging white water through steep gorges, surrounded by hills and stopping to camp on river beaches near remote villages, the four auzzies, two yanks and six Nepali crew were all amazing, I highly recommend rafting in Nepal. Aside from that, I jumped off a bridge 160m down the Bhote Kosi gorge near Tibet, lucky enough there was an elastic bungie tied to my ankle, but I’d have to say the first two seconds after leaping off the bridge were probably the most intense ever, mad craic altogether!

Anyway, enough, save to say I will come back to Nepal again and again, for one, I am determined to do the 15 day trek to the base camp of Everest (Sargarmatha in Nepali or Great Mother Goddess) at some stage. For now, my tour of politically fragile south Asian countries continues with Thailand, where tanks from the recent military coup are stil

Dhaka, Bangladesh, 5th September 2006.

Following two good weeks of farewells and farewell drinks, I was almost ready to die, then I flew to Bangladesh. From about 2,000 feet, Bangladesh reminded me of Holland, a vast, flat and green landscape criss crossed with waterways going everywhich way. At about 1900 feet the comparisons with Holland, with its rational and coherent land use, ended, as the chaos on the ground quickly became apparent.

At the airport, the immigration official had to ask me twice and looked at me with surprise as I told him again “Yes, I am visiting Bangladesh as a tourist”. At the baggage carousel, I got chatting to this Canadian-Bangla fella, who proceeded to tell me that last time he was here he was kidnapped and held for ransom for two days. All going well then, I thought to myself.

Dhaka, the capital city of some 13 million people, is on first impression, completely devoid of charms. What hits you first, The soupy polluted air? The many different and equally horrible smells? The heavy oppressive heat? the incessant noise? the mad rickshaw wallahs? the throngs of people staring at you? – take your pick. Funny thing is, Two weeks on, I’ve almost become endeared to the chaos and unpredictability of the place. There aren’t many cities in the world where it is acceptable for drivers to veer directly, into roaring oncoming traffic, Inshallah, and when you survive unscathed, it’s a real buzz. Not many places where random people on the street call out “how are youuu?” and “hello boss!”. Bangladeshis are a friendly if strange bunch, many will shout the above at you across the street, which may be followed by “your country..”, and if you’re luck is in, you might even get the classic “how much do you earn?!” Kind of different alright.

You’d be forgiven in thinking that there’s little or no hope for this place. Bangladesh is one of the most densely populated countries in the world, the majority of its land area is >2m above sea level, and the land and its people are annually threatened by monsoon floods, not to mention the looming and potentially catastrophic threat of globally rising sea levels. In to the mix throw tropical cyclones which meander in from the bay of Bengal wreaking havoc. For good measure Bangladesh is also located on the Asian equivalent of the San Andres Fault, where the Indian plate and the Australian plate have been rubbing each other up the wrong way for ages now, and are only dying for another session of ‘intense seismic activity’, which I have no doubt, the authorities are completely unprepared for.

Allied to potential natural disasters, Bangladesh has one of the most corrupt and unstable administrations in Asia. Partially due to being Muslim, the status of women is extremely low, you rarely see them, in fact walking down the street, you’d be convinced there are 90% men and 10% women in the place. Acid attacks on women for ‘refusing male advances’ have been outlawed, but are still common.

It seems to me that the country constantly lurches from the edge of one potential disaster to another. To be honest, you’d be inclined to say (and I have) “get me to the airport – and fast”. Sure enough though, people have been banging on about looming catastrophic disasters in Bangladesh for over thirty years now - and the country is still here, as mad and as bad as ever. More to the point, - what the fuck do I know??!!

Inanyways, I’m heading up to Nepal and the Himalayas on Friday with Biman Air, Bangladesh national airline, which has one of the worst safety records in the world. In Nepal, a fragile caretaker government is trying to keep the peace following April’s ‘street revolution’ which saw the King step down and the Maoist rebels enter a ceasefire following ten years of insurgency. I can’t wait.


Your bangla correspondent,

Willie