Yes, I know I said Wednesday pix, but there have been unremitting interruptions to the internet connection here, driving your normally serene author slightly bats. Luckily, one of the alternative sites for wireless is Michele's French Bakery with good coffee and croissant, so try not to shed too many tears.
Since the last post about Amaa, I’ve learned a bit. First I'll share what turned out to be a lovely portrait of Amaa with her main disciple Enkhee.
It was Enkhee who first wandered into one of our classes this past spring, told me about Amaa, and got the whole wonderful ball rolling. In a recent conversation, Enkhee told me that her grandfather, Namsraisuren, had been a very famous itinerant yogi in his time, practicing chöd – the profound meditation of offering the body to cut through ego-clinging – in a ger. And not just any ger; that specific ger we were in. That is, after he passed away, they saved the wooden framing and door. What Batbaatar provided were the funds for new inside and outside coverings. Here he is with Amaa in front of the reconstituted meditation and chanting shrine:
Once we gathered inside, the three yoginis offered many prayers to Padmasambhava, Tara, etc.
Dig this shot. The light hit just so, and doesn’t it look like Amaa’s praying hands are aflame?
I also love this one, not because it’s a particularly great picture, but because it captures three generations of Mongolian women. The young girl accompanying her grandmother was so steadfastly attentive and devoted toward Oyunaa:
Afterward, the yoginis donned the fringed eye coverings used in chöd meditation (I confess I’m not 100% sure of their meaning/purpose) and employed the traditional instruments of the large damaru drum and kangling horn made from a human thigh bone.
I found out that the instruments Enkhee uses also belonged to her grandfather.
Amaa said she got her tantric instruments at age sixteen (imagine that Sweet 16 Party!) and it was clear that the devoted local people (look at the cutie in orange!)...
...considered it a great blessing to be touched by them on the tops of their heads:
After the chanting was over, the tsog food offerings were distributed...
...and because I had my camera out, it was time for endless group photos:
We repaired to the family ger...
...where Batbaatar received a final blessing.
On the way out of town, we stopped in to see Enkhee’s mother to fuel up on the ubquitous meat noodle soup and more of that killer Buryiat bread. I captured this portrait of the two:
Then overnight back to UB, managing to avoid further collisions with roving equine herds.
After the chanting, I said to Amaa, "Since you have this wonderful new ger, you must live longer in order to use it! Please!"
She made a fascinating reply: "Well, while we were chanting, I noticed that the flames on the butter lamps had very good color and shape. Maybe that means I'll live a bit more."
At this, everyone was really joyful.
The title of this post is a common expression in reggae music for vibrational opposition to the iniquities of material culture.
how delightful!
Posted by: Samaya | October 18, 2008 at 03:59 AM