"Going Forth", Dancing Bears, and Count Dracula

January 11, 2010

“Going Forth”

Laura gave me a biography of Buddha (thank you, Laura) to read on the plane but I confess, I have already started it. It’s the story of Siddhatta Gotama, a young man who left his wealthy father, his wife and child and set forth into the world of sixth century B.C. India to seek enlightenment. He had never encountered suffering due to the machinations of his father, but the gods intervened and sent to him a senile old man, a sick man and a corpse to show him the suffering in the world. Disillusioned by his sterile and false existence, he left his palace in the middle of the night, leaving his wife and child behind without a “goodbye.” This was his “Going Forth.” And mine? The gods didn’t send me a senile old man, a sick man and a corpse to show me the suffering in the world. And I did say “goodbye” to Sugar and my Kandi Kisses and left with Lee and Bay for Bangor. And my quest? I would like to be “enlightened” as well (who wouldn’t?). Can I attain it without shaving my head and wearing an orange monk’s robe, as Gotama did (although I did have a haircut before I left)? Without joining an ascetic sect as Gotama did? Without fulfulling all five of the “prohibitions” in his life, that is, no violence, lying, cheating, sex and intoxication? I figure 4 of the 5 will be good enough for this trip. I don’t think a little amount of intoxicating beverages can hurt too much.
Does anyone know if Gotama rhymes with Obama?

Dancing Bears

On the plane to NYC, Bay was reading to me from the guidebook all the terrible things that will confront us in India and Nepal. Stories of air pollution so bad we will need to wear a mask (we didn’t bring one); water that is not potable and that, together with the food, can give you three types of gastrointestinal viruses that will ruin your vacation if not kill you; how we will have to get a jar of peanut butter and eat only that and bread; she read about people who will steal your shoes when you leave them outside of a mosque which you cannot enter with your shoes on; pickpockets; swarms of beggars who will drive you crazy; thieving monks who collect alms at the doors of religious sites for the poor but who just pocket the money for themselves; planes with inadequate maintenance; and if you love animals, according to the guidebook, “you will be horrified” by starving dogs, cats and cows eating plastic bags and cardboard for sustenance, and bears made to dance for the tourists. Dancing Bears? I would love to see Dancing Bears. I can’t wait.
Bay shakes her head in despair, and we haven’t even gotten to India yet.

Count Dracula

As we went to pick up our bags at LaGuardia, a bearded large middle-aged man with a foreign accent asked if we needed a taxi. I told him we did but we had to pick our bags up first. He said he would wait and he did. When we returned, he took Bay’s bag, told us to follow him, and led us outside, racing past the rows of yellow cabs (a warning sign as I look back on it now), across the busy street to the parking area, to a large black Lincoln-type car. So I’m wondering if he’s kidnapping us, and we can’t even get out of the States before we encounter the “suffering.” He puts Bay’s bag in the trunk, grabs mine and puts that in the trunk and tells us to get in. We get in. We tell him where we’re going and before long, perhaps even before we get out of the parking lot, he knows we are going to India and Nepal, he knows how much the trip costs (he asked), and how many days we’re staying there. I asked him a few questions about his origin - he escaped from Rumania with this brother 30 years ago when he was 27 and handed us ratty old postcards of his hometown, Bran, Rumania, supposedly the hometown of Dracula. When we discussed Toby’s living arrangements and his move from Manhattan to Brooklyn, he told us the story of this young female teacher who lived in a very small apartment in Manhattan, how he told her her tiny apartment was a dump and she was paying way too much for it. She should move out and get a real, normal-size and less costly apartment in Queens, like he did with his family. She didn’t. She proceeded to get very sick due to carbon monoxide poisoning in her Manhattan apartment and she sued her landlord. She lost. She called Dracula and said she had to move and could she move into his house with his wife and two children. He said, “Absolutely not,” He would not jeopardize his relationship with his family for this woman and if she moved in, it might be “misconstrued.” She cursed him and said she wouldn’t see him anymore, but in his eyes, the relationship with his family was more important than his relationship with this woman. And he knew that if she ever moved into his house, he would never get her out. Listening to this, I felt like a priest listening to confession. Maybe this enlightenment thing is taking hold?
And I still have a little money left after paying off Dracula.

It’s going to be an early night - Toby’s going to meet us for breakfast. So good night and when you hear from us again (Thursday), we should be in New Delhi. Love to you all, Nat, Matt, DB, Dad, Nate, and whatever else you call me