Dreaming Of Danzan Ravjaa

Hidden in Plain Sight

For months I’ve been fretting that I couldn’t find a comprehensive history of Buddhism in Mongolia (don’t know what you fret about, but this is what I fret about). Well, on Saturday I began the project that had brought me to hitherto unknown levels of procrastination: sorting my belongings into Stuff That’s Going and Stuff That Ain’t. This involved sifting through stacks like a geologist; I could actually date the layers. The germane case in point being the discovery of two stapled, xeroxed sheaves made by my mother (a librarian) and handed to me, I can’t lie, on December 31. One of these was the five unread pages on, you guessed it, Mongolian Buddhist history from the Encyclopedia of Buddhism. Running through my head is my mother’s childhood refrain for me: “You know, for a smart kid, you’re pretty dumb.” The other sheaf was a very interesting snapshot of Mongolia provided by the folks at CultureGrams (turns out Mongolia’s having a presidential election this year – like I need to go through that again!).

So, here’s your Cereal Boxtop Version of Early Mongolian Buddhist History (we’ll do middle and later the rest of this week) as told by a monk who grew up in New Jersey:

Mongolians can’t have failed to have had significant contact with Buddhism via wandering monks and yogis, as well as converted traders, from at least the 7th c. CE. But the indigenous shamanistic beliefs and practices dominated the culture until the time of the Khans.

The empire built by Chinggis Khan (no Mongolian says “Genghis”) in the 12th and 13th centuries was expanded by his son Ogedei Khan until it stretched from Korea to present day Poland and Hungary (can you imagine?). Around 1240, Ogedei’s second son, Göden Khan, led a small army to penetrate Tibet and see about its annexation. Göden Khan compelled the great Tibetan lama Sakya Pandita and his two nephews to go to his court. Here’s an exchange I found in this fantastic book:

Namkha Bum (pronounced “boom” – don’t be funny) the Kadampa: Is there any beneficial reason for your going to the Mongols?

Sakya Pandita: These Mongols have told me that I must definitely come to serve as their “priest” and that if I don’t come, an army will arrive. My going was because I feared that harm might befall Tibet if an army turned up. Besides going in the hope that it will prove to be beneficial for beings, there is no assurance of benefit. Still, I know that I don’t completely lack the ability to give up my body and life if that will help beings.

Here’s the funny way I read this: the Mongols basically did the opposite of what usually happens. They showed up in Tibet in their usual fearsome display and said, “Convert us to your religion or we’ll kill you.” And that’s just what went down. Pretty astounding. (Quick Fact: In 2600 years, no war has ever been fought to advance the cause of Buddhism.)

Ogedei’s nephew Mongke established formal rule over Tibet in 1252 and took as his lama the second Karmapa, Karma Pakshi.

Mongke’s successor, the famed Qubilai Khan, assumed emperorhood of the Chinese Yuan dynasty, elevated Sakya Pandita’s nephew Phagpa to “Imperial Preceptor” (apparently he impressed the Khan by inventing a script with which to write the Mongolian language), and basically co-ruled.

Fortunes ebbed after this and the Yuan dynasty collapsed. Buddhism was relegated to an elite aristocracy in what is now Inner Mongolia. Then in the 16th c., as the Ming dynasty was getting ready to bite the dust, an upstart named Altan Khan recaptured much of Mongolia and scared its neighbors into alliances. It was he who met Sonam Gyatso, the head of the Tibetan Buddhist Gelug tradition, and bestowed the title of Dalai Lama (dalai means “ocean” in Mongolian and Sonam Gyatso is actually recognized as the third, with two others given the title posthumously).

Stuff That’s Not A History Lesson

On Friday night I finally saw The Story of the Weeping Camel. It’s a simple, lovely film set among a family of Mongolian nomads in the south Gobi Desert. To save you time and puzzlement, make sure to set up the DVD at the beginning for English subtitles. They’re not automatic because there are also options for French or German.

On the Dulaan Project front (the scheme my cousin Ryan and I cooked up to get knitters to make toasty clothing for Mongolians in need – dulaan means “warm”), mad love goes out to Janine of Feral Knitters fame, for hosting a smashingly successful Dulaan Knit-in in the Bay Area Friday. Also, I received a box at our Sedona center full of wonderful, warm items for the project. While this is deeply appreciated, please make sure to mail your knits to F.I.R.E.

In The Beginning

It all started at the dentist.

One of KPC’s nuns, Ani Ella (Ani is an affectionate/respectful term Tibetans use for all nuns), worked as a dental assistant in the Maryland suburbs of DC. In her chair one day several years ago sat a woman named Maijargal, who just happened to be the wife of the Mongolian Ambassador to the U.S., Choinhor (Mongolians often just use one name). Maijargal and Ani Ella really hit it off and a close friendship developed that lasts to this day. She accepted an invitation for her and her husband to visit our temple. They really enjoyed themselves, became regular visitors and honored guests, and thus began our connection to the DC-area Mongolian community.

Oh this is too weird. Just as I was typing this, I got my first email from Maijargal in Mongolia which I’ve been waiting for for days! Cue Twilight Zone music…

My chronology’s a little fuzzy at this point, but I do recall well a sunny spring day when several Asian guys on bicycles wheeled up the temple driveway followed by a carful of other guys with big video cameras, microphones, etc. Turns out it was a world tour of Mongolian cyclists aimed at generating awareness and goodwill for the new democratic state. Members of Mongolian national TV were along to document the proceedings. Yours truly was asked to show the group around. The cameras whirred and off we went. So, unless I ended up on the editing floor (likely—hard to counter the glare off my head), I think I’ve been on Mongolian TV. Maybe I’ll be greeted at the Ulaan Baatar airport like some kind of rock star (um, think latter-day Elvis minus the sequined jumpsuit -- on second thought, don't think that, especially if you're eating), who knows?

Another funny thing happened that I wish I had seen, but only heard about. One year, Ringling Brothers Circus was in town. Apparently, they had a Mongolian acrobat troupe that year and they were all bussed out to visit our temple. I heard hilarious stories about lithe young Mongolians spending the afternoon tumbling across our big front lawn. I’ll check with our archivist to see if there are photos or video to share.

In short, the DC-area Mongolians have come to consider KPC “their temple”, which we have encouraged.

Next week: Who was Danzan Ravjaa and why is Konchog dreaming of him?

BTW, I ordered a digital camera yesterday, so it won’t be long before photos are incorporated.

Auspicious Launch

Today is one of the four holiest days on the Buddhist calendar. The Tibetans call the day Chotrul Düchen. It’s the full moon day which commemorates the culmination of 15 days on which Shakyamuni Buddha displayed a different miracle to increase the merit and aid the devotion of future disciples. “Düchen” means “Great Occasion” and it is said that on such days the effect of positive actions is multiplied 10,000,000 times (the same is true for negative actions – ten million times – so behave yourself). So it seemed the most auspicious day to launch this blog prior to my March 18 departure for Mongolia.

My name is Konchog Norbu. I'm an American Buddhist monk going to Mongolia as the first representative of my teacher, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo and her organization, Kunzang Palyul Chöling. My function will be to begin the process of fulfilling Jetsunma’s wish for her community to do what we can to help with the revival of our Tibetan Buddhist lineage, the Nyingma, as Mongolia emerges from 65 years of the suppression of Buddhist practice under Soviet occupation. As far as I can tell, I will be the only Western monk in Mongolia.

My aim with this journal is to provide readers who may never go to Mongolia or participate in such a project to feel like they’re there in some way. Prior to my departure, I will provide some background, including an explanation of the title, so folks will at least be somewhat oriented (“at least be somewhat oriented” is what I’m hoping for myself, too, but I’m not holding my breath). Once there, I will do what I can to bring Mongolia to life for whoever cares to drop by for a visit.

At first, I plan to post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This may increase once I’m there and find my rhythm. We’ll see. In the meantime, please know that this is strictly a personal journal and should not be viewed as any kind of official outlet of Kunzang Palyul Chöling.

Sain saikhan bükhniig yörööi (“Wishing you all good things”),

Konchog