Nice Ovoos!

Our little botany excursion in the last post was fun, no? The detective work (finding cool sites like this one) seems to hit similar pleasure zones for me as birding. Except, of course, the plants generally sit still. But, as an unreformed language geek, the most entertaining part was reading the Latin names. Four stood out as ones I might have plucked had I been creating characters for a comic farce about the Roman Empire:

Scabiosa comosa – the alcoholic doctor
Plantago depressa – the moody teenage daughter
Rheum undulatum – the frisky but hypochondriac spinster aunt
Artemesia frigida – the frustrated emperor’s haughty wife

Then there were the hilariously impenetrable scientific descriptions. Dig this for Mrs. Artemesia. I mean, how’s the actress supposed to uncover her motivation or trace her arc in this?

“Root stout, numerous tendril-shared fibrillose. Stems 18-50 cm long, slender, leafy, simple or shortly branched. Leaves 2-4 cm long, 1-3 cm wide, dark-green, with hole-shaped doted gland, above glabrous, beneath cobwebby entangled hairy, bi-pinnately sected. Terminal lobes thin-linear, 3-10 mm long, 0.5-1.5 mm wide, acute, entire or sparsely teeth. Head 2-4(5) mm long, on drooping pedicels. Internal involucral bracts oblong, with light scarious margin. All bracts entangled hairy or glabrous. Petal glandular-dotted. Receptacle glabrous.”

That little graf contains no fewer than eight words I’ve never encountered in my life. Needless to say, given the Latin name, I barked out a hearty laugh when I read the last three phrases.

OK, well, since we’re a bit PG-13 today, I should report on changes at Khamar Monastery’s breast ovoos. I’ve described and shown these before; they’re the two ovoos resting on a plateau just before one descends to the temples on the valley floor. They really were created during Danzan Ravjaa’s time to resemble a dakini’s breasts. The deeper meaning reflects women as universal mother, their wisdom aspect of empty luminosity being the birthplace of all phenomena, thus deserving of the highest respect. Only women are allowed to circumambulate these ovoos, and up to now, as women have added stones, they had matured as kinda lopsided, but perfectly attractive:

Well, we were in for quite a surprise when encountering the ovoos this time. I don’t want to start rumors, or judge, but don’t they seem just a little, um, masonically enhanced?

Taking a few laps around were my new friends and traveling companions, lovely Daka and her sister and mother, all visiting Khamar for the first time. Before, it seemed that women made all kinds of offerings, but now, appropriately enough, they sprinkle the ovoos with fresh milk. In a livestock-based culture like Mongolia, milk is considered a very pure and respectful offering for a wide variety of occasions.

{Daka, by the way, in addition to being an ace English-speaking tour guide herself, is something of an entrepreneur. She runs a business offering authentic Mongolian gers – the wonderful round felt tents – to customers from abroad. Here is her very informative website, where you can also peruse Mongolian furniture, antiques, and even traditional archery sets.}

I saw that the kiosk housing Khamar’s sacred spring was open and suggested that as our next stop. Again, a small change. Before, we had been invited in to drink from cups. Remember this pic of Khamtrul Rinpoche lifting a glass to all of our speedy enlightenment?

But now, everyone is asked to receive the water as it flows out of the mouth of a concrete lion’s head attached to the outside. This is, frankly, far more charming and fun, even when it kinda trickles down to a drool.

Here, Daka gathers a healthy handful.

Her sister fared a little less well in a somewhat bizarre incident. The water is mineral-rich and thus appears cloudy in a clear bottle. The sister looked at it and said, “Ew, that water’s dirty.” Almost immediately after, she was struck with acute bowel distress that nearly doubled her over as she sprinted for the latrine. It was the only episode she suffered, and you can be sure she didn’t dis the water after that.

The rest of the day I spent as tour guide and storyteller. Often, pilgrims just do what everyone else is doing, without much understanding of the meaning. They told me they felt very fortunate to have their experience of the sites enhanced by my tales, and even though they had all described themselves as “not very religious,” they said they now want to find out all they can about Danzan Ravjaa. That was pretty gratifying.

The next day we split into two groups. My other travel mate, Daniel, and I wanted to have a little bit deeper Buddhist day at Khamar. We arranged to have ourselves dropped off there and sent the ladies off to visit Khan Bayan Zurkh Mountain, sacred to the third Gobi Lama, Jamyn Danzan (our friend Danzan Ravjaa was the fifth).

Daniel and I spent some time doing prayers at the Red Temple that enshrines the Statue of 10,000 Knives (partially pictured in the upper left of this blog) and then walked the three-kilometer path to the Shambhala site. I got a couple nice shots along the way. This one shows the abrupt change in the desert’s soil content from grey-brown to an iron-oxide red made more vivid by the recent rain, which also greened out the serpentine wash. You also see one of the eight pathside stupas, and the bell gazebo. I’m currently selecting pics to use for Khamar postcards, and that might be a contender.

And here’s a shot of some of the 108 Shambhala stupas. I know I’ve posted many images from this place, but never one where it looks like the lawn needs to be cut! And while I certainly appreciate subtlety in the natural world, there’s something about the boldness of the primary colors in the Gobi, like the green-white-blue here, that really knocks me out.

We took a different route back to the monastery, taking some quiet time at the site of my cave retreat. Daniel, seemingly a sincere Buddhist practitioner, is one of the few to whom I’ve shown this cave. He looks pretty natural and happy in it, doesn’t he?

The trip capped off as it always does, with a visit to the Danzan Ravjaa Museum, where I again rattled on a bit. Strolling through town, I was thrilled to see that construction was well underway on the sorely-needed new museum.

This will be two floors instead of one, with improved technology for displays and conservation. As early as next year, visitors will be able to enjoy the full array of artifacts illustrating the multi-faceted genius of Danzan Ravjaa, including many objects that have not even been unearthed from their 70-year desert hiding places, a true benefit for the Mongolian traveler.

Comments

[Tom Robertson]

"Thou hast sucked wisdom from my teat!"

:)

[Konchog]

What is that from?

[Palzang]

Well, rocks do have high silicon content, ya know. So I guess you could say they're silicon implants!

That's great to see they're building the new museum. Hopefully it will have environmental controls and better security as well...

[Tom Robertson]

Romeo and Juliet, actually, from the Nurse talking to Juliet...

[Dara]

Love those primary colors, it's one of the things I'm going to miss about Sedona. I will have to show the lion head to Atira and Tara and Alex and Ananda and Nathaniel and Ross - there was a similar one at...Glen Echo? Cabin John? that was a vacuum for the trash - lol.

[Carol of Seattle]

Positively glabrous! Thanks for the reminder that it's time for my annual mammogram!