Pilgrimage Week

Welcome to the Tibetan Studies Blog! My name is Berto, and I’ll be telling you about our recent pilgrimage week to Spiti Valley, which was a treat for everyone. We spent a few days of driving, staying in luxurious hotels along the way, seeing some sights and meeting some locals.

On the way to Kaza, our main base of operations in the Valley, we drove along a veritable cliff edge. Most of the roads we traveled were under active construction by the Border Roads Association, or BRO for short, and we could look down to the side to see a complete drop to the river hundreds of feet below. Once, we were held up for two hours because BRO had been blasting dynamite in the road and had to clear the rubble. 

The group sharing music and ghost stories at our first stop in the city of Shimla.

A section of the drive to Spiti.

Once in Kaza, we took daily excursions to various sites, including monasteries, the highest village in the world accessible by motorable road, and countless gorgeous views. I think I speak for most of the group when I say that the experience was deeply moving. Our first night in the Valley proper, we stopped at Gue Monastery, home of a five hundred year old monk mummy; the monk is said to have entered a clear light state at the time of his death, which has preserved his body in the centuries since then. According to the Tibetan tradition, the subtle breath continues within the body well after the heart stops beating, and experienced meditators are able to prolong this state for days and even weeks after death, during which the processes of decay and rigor mortis are put on hold. Housed in a modest building next to the monastery, the monk’s hair still grows and his teeth are in good condition. As someone with a scientific background, this was particularly humbling because it directly challenged so many assumptions I have about life and death. It has made me rethink much of what I understand about the world, from biology to consciousness to the afterlife itself. 

When stepping through doorways constructed one thousand years ago, I was constantly struck by the scale of the places we were visiting. In Tabo Monastery, one of our last stops, the paintings had been undisturbed since their creation in the 11th century. The monastery had opted to avoid restoring them in an effort to keep the originals. Though cracked and faded, they remained recognizable. One in particular that struck me was a mural of the one thousand Buddhas that will come and go in our age. The sheer scale of time baffled me, and stayed on my mind well after we left the valley.

The Tibetan Studies group outside of Tabo Monastery.

We also had the opportunity to visit the highest post office in the world, located in Hikkim village. Evan and I scoured the town looking for it, asking locals for directions. We finally found the nondescript building; inside, it resembled nothing more than a living room, but when we asked, an old woman reached into a cabinet and pulled out a stack of postcards. We each wrote a few and sent them out; their journey will probably last many months before they reach their destination.

One evening, we were treated to a rare sight; Damchoe, our de facto guide for the trip, led us out on a dirt road and then down a small winding trail to a cave in the cliff face, walled on the front side with rocks and mud. Inside was a rudimentary living space, complete with a kitchen, bed, and stove. Damchoe told us that the cave had been used by a nun in retreat, and legend has it that she had a virgin birth to an exceptional child who went on to perform several miracles, including lifting the roof of the cave by simply pressing his finger to the roof. Inside the cave, Damchoe showed us the fingerprints on the cave ceiling. Inside, I could feel the life that had happened in the cave; the rocks were stained with soot from years of chimney usage.

I’d like to end this weeks blog by giving thanks to everyone involved in the trip. We couldn’t have made it all the way out and back without the generosity and flexibility of everyone involved. From exploding roads to unexpected illness, we had to change or delay our plans numerous times. The drivers in particular made us feel safe the entire time, and I am deeply grateful for them. When we were forced to change our route home because some roads had been snowed over, the cooks at Sarah College contacted their family in the area. Thanks to their generosity, we had a place to stay and full bellies despite being total strangers. Additionally, most of our group fell ill at one point or another. Everyone kept up good spirits throughout, bearing through hours of driving every day without complaint so as not to be a burden on the rest of the group.

Jared embracing the wild energy of youth!

Kisses for Kaza!