Day 1 – Stay at home Colorado

Joni and I have been sheltering at home since last Saturday. But this is no longer a choice – it’s the law. Colorado’s Governor signed an executive order effective at 6AM this morning; saying that the majority of Colorado’s 5.8 million residents must stay home. This order was made to contain the spread of the corona virus and the tendency of people to ignore less direct warnings. I guess “we” still need a parent.

Unprecedented events continue to unfold as we identify and adapt to our invisible enemy. The fact that our only defense is distancing is causing a host of related changes, the likes of which are scaring people even more than the virus itself. It is pulling us together as it creates tension between us. I hope that we can pass this test and emerge with greater understanding of our personal and collective power.

Last night I spoke to a friend in government who is on the front line of the response to corona virus. She attends regular community briefings to understand virus and the cascade of social and material consequences that it and our quarantine bring. These community leaders are organizing a safe response for our children who are isolated away from school They are planning to provide support, particularly food and supplies for children staying at home from school. They are grappling with the logistics of getting supplies from here to there. They have to move and deliver these supplies without inadvertently spreading the virus. First, they must secure materials from stocks and/or suppliers. Once they have identified the children in need (an ongoing process) they connect the children with the support. Of course they must keep track of all this movement; the product (like food or computers), the volunteers who transport it and the recipient. This is a multi agency/business/school endeavor.

Supply Chain – David McGavock

As amazing as this sounds, it is only one of the initiatives and groups in motion around this crisis. This effort may not seem as heroic as the work of our beloved health care professionals, but it is critical to prepare in these early days. We are but one small, rural, community. There are many counties and towns involved in this particular coordination but we are just a small microcosm of work being done at the level of the State, Nation and World. Connecting the needs of individuals, families and business with materials and support is what is necessary at all levels.

As an example of what is happening (or not happening) in communities around the world, this local effort reveals just how interdependent we are – how much we rely on each other, our businesses and government, our formal and informal organizations. Socialism, capitalism? call it what you want but we have to act with a single minded, social purpose, to provide for the basic needs of our community.

I am sitting at home, following the direction of my state governor who is acting on the advice of experts in the field of epidemiology. I trust that they take this responsibility seriously and should be trusted. I don’t trust them blindly of course but based on what I’ve read, they are taking a cautious and educated approach to the crisis.

This is a perfect time to reflect on the utility of government to direct the public for their own good. Would some call this socialism? Perhaps. Our taxes are invested to keep healthy bureaucracy in place – to prepare us for unforeseen events and to act in a coordinated fashion when necessary.

My personal action is not so much a sacrifice as it is a logical conclusion of the facts (yes facts) at hand. This action doesn’t really require that much of me except to listen and behave accordingly. Is that so hard? But staying home is relatively smaller sacrifice for me; a retired 64 year old with a pension. Staying home is a much larger sacrifice for many others. It entails a loss of income and for some it will lead to job loss and business loss and all the hardships that follow. I am fortunate to be in a stage of life where I am relatively insulated from this sacrifice.

Despite my particular niche, I know that I am connected to each and every person and that their sacrifice and their fate, is my fate. As this cascade of social effects continues, I will feel the effects of unemployment, business and investment loss. These and many other effects will become OUR new reality, our new legacy. They will require more sacrifice on everyone’s part. We will have to rebuild our economy in the same way we would reconstruct a community in any other disaster. Given that this disaster has affected all of us, without exception, the scale of the recovery will be on a scale we (Post WWII children) have never known.

It is time to prepare for collective sacrifice and action. My hope is that we will be considerate of all in this crisis, no matter their age, race, gender, or socio-economic status.

Storytelling for dis-ease

Yes, I have finally returned to my blog, to share my perspective on recent events, people, and personal adventures. Who needs more opinion, right? Please bear with me as I add to the noise with my own version of the truth. It will take me some time to get my writing feet again I’m sure.

Covid-19 is upon us and we are making an unprecedented adaptation to our way of living. It’s impossible to know how the virus will spread and the impact it will have. I think it’s safe to say that it will change our relationships and institutions. The change and the adjustments we make will be imprinted upon us like a duckling to it’s mother. I hope to record my version for myself and for anyone interested. So welcome… or see ya later.

No one can deny that there has always been a wealth of activity and change in our modern world. The speed of communication, and the pace of technological innovation are just two indicators of the rapid change. Yet human nature remains constant. Not only are our aspirations, history, and values pretty established, the security we seek and the pain we avoid keeps us on a path that can be traced – even anticipated. This can provide us with insight and (hopefully) save us from over reacting in times of trouble.

Memory

One of the biggest limitation we have is our memory. As we become bedazzled and entranced by the latest news, we lose track of the bigger picture. For example, how many times have you recalled a story in the press and been unable to recall who or where that story came from. Sometimes, within the day I have read a piece, I lose the reference . Our recall of yesterday’s events are also pretty cloudy. Younger folks probably are ahead of me in these memory tests but I would wager that you are taxed as well as you invite even more distraction into your life than I do.

Writing requires the exercise of my memory. When I commit my thoughts to the page I encode the memory a bit more. Our memories are an edited version of history rather than a snapshot. We re-write what has happened as we recall it. In the process of recollection (re – collecting memories) we interject modern impressions and hopes into the past collection.

Journaling as events unfold can help us be more conscious and therefore accurate in recording what happens. My hope is that this record will be worth looking at in the future, a fair account of my personal experience. A bonus would be that writing will enrich my experience and improve my decisions through these troubled times. At a minimum it will be a better record than the one residing in the soft grey matter in my skull.

It has been almost 2 years to the date of my last blog entry April 4th, 2018. That post described our re-entry into the United States from our travels in Asia. As we traveled, I was inspired to write by the novelty of our experience. There was never a dull moment and always a surprise around the next corner. Even in Nepal where we lived for 5 months and became accustomed to our friends and surroundings, surprises abounded.

Brace for Novelty

For better or worse, life has become pretty novel right here in the US lately. Human organization around the world are rapidly changing, adapting as I write. Changing fast and in ways that we cannot fully grasp. I compare it to my first automobile ride through Kathmandu, Nepal. As we drove from the airport, I stared out the window trying, but failing to make sense of what we passed. These pictures are too still to do justice to the inital confusion.

Streets of Nepal – David McGavock
Streets of Nepal 2 – David McGavock
Streets of Nepal 2 – David McGavock

Driving through the changing landscape of Covid-19, information is flying at hyper speed. At this point news organizations have given up reporting anything but changes related to Covid-19. If I didn’t know better I’d think that all those past problems are solved – NOT!

While I don’t boast great readership, I am going to re-invite some of you – my friends – to this site. I’ll try and provide some decent photographs related to my posts. Perhaps this will bring people back on occasion.

I hope you and your family and friends are finding your way through the new reality, safe from this silent enemy. I hope you are feeling some level of security and kinship with each other despite the storm.

Hello Thailand

It has been a 2 weeks since we said our farewells in Kathmandu. It seems like a lifetime ago. On Monday, the 29th of January, we arrived in Bangkok and found warm air and humidity. Fortunately the temperature has remained below 90 degrees so far. A 30 degree change is change enough.

Joni with the Rama Bridge in Bangkok.

Night shot of Buddhist Monk waiting for a water taxi.

In the first week I felt like I was emerging from a fog.  Perhaps it was due to our recovery from the cold (flu?) we had in the final days in Nepal. Add to that, we have been grieving the end of our time with the girls at Tsoknyi Gechak School. While the experience brought many challenges, our connection with the girls was strong, sweet and freeing. At home in the monastery we were wrapped in a community of caring people and the routine and rhythm; from the morning gong, meditation, breakfast, water bucket routine, school preparations, classes, lunch, more classes, afternoon walk and finally battening down the hatches for the cold night. As I often described in past stories, the rhythm had a periodic back beat of surprises and disappointment when water wouldn’t come or a special puja interrupted the normal day. But even these surprises became part of the pattern of living over time. Funny how we long for adventure and the unusual while, at the same time, we thrive on routine and regularity.

On the canal close to Sam Sen Sam Place – our hotel in Bangkok

As we have emerge from the routine and regularity of life at the monastery we have maintained a pretty mellow pace. Our first 3 days in Bangkok were spent touring a few of the temples (Wat) and enjoying scenes along the river, close to our modest hotel.

The buildings and flowers bring a lot of color to Thailand.

Traveling from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, Thailand we continued our slow pace, strolling around the town and enjoying the scenes of the street, the annual “Flower Festival” and the night markets. Our most ambitious activities in Chiang Mai were a trip to Wat Phra That Doi Kham (that’s a mouthful); a temple on a mountain overlooking the city.

Joni among the crowd making offerings to benefit friends, strangers and loved ones.

A Wat is a temple. There are over 300 temples in Chiang Mai alone. On another morning we went into the countryside where we visited an elephant sanctuary. After asking around for a few days, we found a short tour that promised to support a humane home for elephants. While it took an hour to drive each way, we were treated to a very interactive and hands on visit with 3 elephants (Pancake, Maya and Jumbo).

Elephant friends – up close and personal.

An evening at the park in celebration of the Flower Festival

After spending 5 nights in Chiang Mai, we took a day to travel to the island of Koh Chang. This required an hour flight back to Bangkok and 6 or 7 hour drive southwest in a mini bus. Fortunately the roads are smoother than those we left in Kathmandu. By evening we arrived at our new, temporary, home; the Oasis. An Oasis it is. Sitting in the Jungle on a hill about 100 yards above the beach, it is quiet and very relaxed. Our Dutch hosts have been running this place for 6 years and do a very good job of catering to (mostly) young and old, European, Asian and American guests. The open air dining room is home to 2 dogs and 3 or 4 cats (they come and go). The animals and humans are all very mellow and friendly, moving at a slow, steady pace. Things start late in the morning with breakfast at 8:00am. This is in sync with the beach parties we can hear (faintly fortunately) that last until 3:00am or so. My only complaint is that 50% of the people here smoke. They smoke on the streets, in the bars, on the beach and in restaurants. It’s a thing I guess.

I honestly can’t think of anything else to complain about in this slow moving paradise. It is a privilege to be here; hanging out on the beach, reading, meditating, eating incredible (and inexpensive) food, drinking beer, and enjoying relaxed conversations with Joni. Add to this we have both enjoyed 2 – one hour long massages on the beach, getting our skin bathed in Aloe after too much sun. What a life!

One more night left here on Koh Chang. Now we are north of Lonely Beach at Kai Bai where we are staying at “The Stage”, a little place just off Kai Bai Beach. This strip of paradise caters more to adult tourists and families so things are a little more polished.

Tomorrow we will take the 6 hour bus ride back to Bangkok where we’ll spend one more night. For better or worse, we won’t be staying in a hotel on the second day in Bangkok because our flight to Japan leaves at 12:05am on the 15th. It is a challenge to be present when another voyage looms on the horizon.

It has taken me forever to post this entry, so I’m going to post this now – without further elaboration. I hope that this message finds you well, wherever you are. Funny thing about traveling so much… I realize that wherever I go – there I am. In other words, it doesn’t really matter where I am. Most important is being present and making the most of it; with the people, my awareness and the most peaceful behavior I can muster. Cheers!

Gifts and Transitions

With only 10 days left here in Nepal I find myself looking back on my experience, forward to travel plans and home, and finally returning to the present; to the people and the activities that have taught me so much.

Preparing zung (long, printed prayers) to be placed inside statues in the new Lhakong

Everyone in the Trasang participates in Zung preparation.

more zung preparation.

As I recounted before, the cold air that descended upon the Gompa challenged us in many ways. While we’ve had a wave of warmer air lately, the cold and other conditions have left quite a lot of sickness among us. In some of my classes, half of the children are in bed. The remaining lack their usual enthusiasm, so our lessons are more relaxed. While I had a cold during the cold spell, I am (knock on wood), symptom free at the moment.

As our time here winds down, I am completing projects, attending class and taking time to say goodbye to the people who have nurtured and befriended us during our stay. The projects include a newsletter created with the Trasang nuns. The newsletter grew out of our photography class and the stories and poems that they chose to write.  The newsletter will be shared on the Tsoknyi Gechak School Facebook page next week. It has been exciting to watch these young women explore photography using the Apple mobile devices (iPod, iPhone, iPad, and my computer). They have an artistic eye that is evident in their photography and in the artwork included in their newsletter stories. Related to this project, I am preparing all the “iDevices” to remain here so they can continue to learn how to use them and tell their stories. While I had some ideas for introducing technology before I came to Nepal, my final preparations are quite different (duh). The good news is that these women are very bright, motivated and resourceful and so will make it work no matter what.

Trasang Photo of Nuns with iPhone… taking photos

Watching their sisters perform Puja in the Lhakong.

I’ll spare you the details of our travel plans except to share my wonder at how much forethought it takes to design an itinerary. Certainly we have chosen a more complicated path home than jumping on a plane for Denver. With planned stops in Thailand, Japan, Hawaii, Seattle and other parts USA, there are planes to catch, ground transport to consider, places to see, lodging to book, people to alert and on and on. Quite different than my trip to Europe in 1975 with my brother Rob when I purchased a plane ticket, and a six-week Eurail pass and made travel decisions as we went. “What, say, let’s go to Venice!” While the Internet is showing some of it’s flaws in the mis-information/mis-direction arena of late, it has been a godsend for planning our travels into parts unknown. Of course, we’ll see how well the plan fits with reality. It’s not whether but how much the experience will fit with my well-laid-plans. As long as we are safe, can find food to eat, and a place to rest at the end of the day, we’ll be happy. The unique sights, sounds and people will sustain us I’m sure.

While I am ready to go home, it is difficult to say goodbye to this place and the people. I have benefitted from their kindness and their intentional way of working and interacting. This environment has been of great benefit to my spiritual / mental development; not because it is comfortable and easy but because it is a layered cake of slow and fast, old and new; spirituality, love, chaos, construction, destruction, dissolution…  As I’ve recounted many times, it has challenged me physically and mentally. Let’s face it, I’m not as young as I used to be. The only flat surface here is the slab entry to the school where the children gather, play, study, and celebrate. The remainder is like a Colorado hiking trail, sometimes mixed in with a New York City street. I’m constantly mindful of where I step and aware that my body doesn’t respond well to impulsive twists and turns.

Our youngest students help and comfort the new students who just arrived.

While my writing leans toward romanticizing this experience (even the hard parts), I recognize that it is far from perfect. Regardless of one’s conclusion about what it is (idyllic or a pain in the butt) Nepal has been the perfect remedy for me at this time. A western friend of mine pointed out that some of the benefit that one gets here in Nepal is the disconnection from our accustomed living; the people, occupations, habits, pre-occupations, and so on that we leave behind. Our disconnection allows us to practice living (and meditation) differently. This reminds me of the often quoted Buddhist advice, “Those who are able to seclude themselves in an isolated retreat, put aside the worldly cares and activities of this life and practice single-mindedly, will gain liberation in this very lifetime.” While this place is not a cave in the Himalayas, it is secluded and isolated from my normal living.

We were fortunate to be invited to Khechok Sangpo’s (Tibetan) wedding. Bride and groom to the left.

I came here to help the students of Tsoknyi Gechak School but, as it turns out, the teachers, staff, students, Rinpoche, lamas and nuns have given me much more. I appreciate this opportunity; landing into the middle of their world and work, accepted as a team member in the service of the Anis. They have given me the freedom to test my (unproven) skill in English instruction and shown patience with my (sometimes comical) attempts to communicate. They have included me in their celebrations, making me a valued member of their community. While the news from home is dominated by stories of division and abuse, it is emerging from and within an increased recognition for inclusion and respect. I hope my experience here will give me the strength, insight and confidence to join that movement.

Cold – Cold – Cold

Sitting in my room; down coat, long underwear and pants, hat, slippers and 3 layers of long-sleeved thermal underwear (silk, wool and nylon blends). It’s COLD! Damn cold.

We’ve met many challenges in our time here but the cold has nailed me like no other. Sometimes it feels as if there is no escaping it though this isn’t completely true. At the school, during the day, the sun shines brightly on the south side of the building where the Anis and staff take full advantage to sit and plan and hold class in it’s glow. I don’t have a very accurate record of the temperature fluctuations but it is ranging from the low 30s to the low 60s. When the sun shines, it’s warmth brings my bones and my mind back to life. But when the day slips into darkness, the cold again creeps slowly but surely into my room and if I’m not vigilant to take cover, it overcomes me.

As the cold grips my body, my mind seems to restict. I find it more difficult to concentrate on work when I’m feeling chilled. My restricted state is the best excuse for my delay in posting to this blog. Right now it is morning and I’m sitting with my second cup of coffee. But the longer I write, the colder my fingers get, till I have to rest them in my pockets.

The sun is shining on the building across from me right now but my room sits in the shade. I just finished breakfast while wearing all of the clothes I’ve listed above. Fortunately we get a hot meal and I can wrap my fingers around a hot cup of coffee. When I’m not holding a cup of coffee, I fill my cup with hot water. It’s not only good for your health (according to the Chinese) it is a great hand warmer.

As you might expect, bedtime is earlier than usual. I can sit in my warm bed to read, meditate and use the computer. My sister in law (Kay) sent me a Christmas present through Joni; a hotpad. While it doesn’t heat the bed completely, it does a great job of knocking the chill off.  My feet love it. Joni and I pass it between us in the evening before bed. She purchased a second one at Wal-Mart for herself but, sadly it does not work. Note to self: test all products BEFORE hauling them to Nepal.

Teachers “lounge” on the south deck of the school

I hate to complain but the cold conditions make living much more difficult and require periodic attitude adjustments. I truly love this place; the atmosphere and especially the people. But this chill is leading me to dream of beaches in Thailand (only 17 days away). When I’m at school with the children and the sun is shining (which it consistently does) I can relax and let go. So, fortunately, the cold is not a 24 hour a day challenge. Going to school is like coming up for air. Not only do I get to see the girls but I can warm my attitude.

Lower Kinder children, working and warming their feet outside their classroom

Class 1 – morning sun and reading. Ahhh…

Despite the challenge of cold, there are a lot of things I want to accomplish before I leave here. Some of these will require pushing through the cold in my room. Some require the computer and a clear mind. Some are just the mundane activities for staying clean and fed. For example, this morning I had to get some wash done. I can’t bear to do it in stone cold water. Rather, I use our tea kettle to warm a couple pots to take the chill off. Funny how just a little bit of warmth makes such a big difference.

Construction worker catching afternoon rays. This is right outside my bedroom window.

Watching the US News I see that our country is struggling with many natural disasters and extreme conditions. In the Buddhist tradition we are encouraged to offer our suffering for the liberation of our fellow beings. And so I do. While my suffering here in the cold doesn’t compare to the loss of life or persistent and inescapable cold that some are experiencing, I pray that my fellow earth travelers are liberated from their suffering.