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My first service in Ambedkar Colony
I recovered from the jet-lag, both yesterday and today my internal alarm rang at 7am. Yesterday morning there was time for lot’s of nembutsu before the alter (I’m sleeping in our shrine room here, up on the roof, above our flat) this morning, I fell back to sleep and was woken up my alarm clock, several presses of the snooze function later, I managed a bleary eyed prostration before coming down to the flat.
Two days ago I bought an Indian sim-card for my phone, but the law is that foreign national have to register their passport details when they buy a sim-card, and leave a passport sized photo. I thought I’d bought a couple of spares with me, but couldn’t find them, so yesterday Suvidya took me to a little photoshop near his house, in Shanti Nagar, to have some more taken.
Shanti is in UP, the state on Delhi’s northern border. It’s the biggest state in India, stretching right up to the top of the country, and there’s a lot less money around than in the capital. It’s noticeable as soon as you cross the border, the potholes in the road increase tenfold and the standard of the buildings around drops. Cows and bulls roam the streets, mingling with the children (once the schools have closed) and old people sitting watching the world go by. Spaces of empty land, without buildings become dumping ground for waste, which the rag pickers will work over, finding anything of value.
Off the main road, the tarmac disappears completely, deep open sewers run alongside the road (I rescued a puppy from one of these yesterday), the shops above them, one room in the front of somebody’s house, have a step or ramp across the narrow stream of black water, leading up to them. It was to one of these one room shops that we went to find a photographer. Up the steps, and behind the counter, a photo studio: A wall with different coloured curtains for the background, and a stool. I had my photo taken, and handed over the money. Only problem? No printer in the studio, so we’d have to wait another day to get the photos that were already a day late.
Suvidaya promised to bring them to the flat this morning at 9am. At 10am Prakash was here waiting to take the form and the photos back to the phone shop, but no Suvidya. We called and found he was outside the shop in Shanti – waiting for the photos. With no way of knowing how long the photos were going to take to arrive, phone shop calling to find out where we were – we decided to try somewhere else.
Prakash and I jumped on his bright red bike, and we headed up Loni road, just over the crossroads (four lanes of traffic, a stop light with a countdown and everyone jostling to be first when the lights go green) we pulled upside another photo booth. India is a land of contrasts, from the vast wealth divide between the upper classes, and the street people, to the mix of spirituality and materialism, and the contrast between the litter strewn streets, covered in dust from the millions of exhausts, and the road works – to the expensive camera and PC inside the shop. The newest technology in the most unexpected places, like the TV’s I have glimpsed inside the tents of people living on the roadside.
Getting the photos printed here was no problem, so I’ve now got a working mobile phone. The only must have accessory for people of all castes in India.
This afternoon, another bumpy dust rickshaw ride down Loni road, just across the Delhi/UP border into Ambedkar colony. This is one of the new outreaches this year. Today was a special day, the performance of English here, and then an hour of Buddhism, but today it was two hours of Buddhism. The first a chaotic drama, with about 50 children all pressing up against our chosen performers. The second a Pureland service, just for adults and the children of the family hosting us.
It was wonderful to hear the sound of nembutsu from all these different voices, from the 10 month old baby (more of a gurgle than a nembutsu) to the oldest adult, our rikshaw driver, joining in for the first time today. I shall have to tell you more about him sometime. I confess to being nervous before leading the service, I wasn’t sure how much people would understand, even with Pratap, our wonderful translator, and knew that they’d been doing things in a different order to what I’m used to. I think the main issue for me is learning at what level to pitch what I’m saying, I can feel resistance to ‘dumbing down’ the dharma, I expect because I know how much it means to me, the depth of the teachings I have received. But our practice is very different to what people here are used to – it’s the first time many of them have done formal practice, or received Buddhist teachings of any kind at all. Usually the chanting and meditating is left to the monks, and there are simply not enough qualified and willing teachers around to explain the dharma, so it will really be a case of keeping it very basic.
We’ve two services tomorrow here in the shrine room, so I’ll shall try to keep that in mind, channel my enthusiasm for the depth and complexity of the teachings into a simple heart practice.
Namo Amida Bu
Two days ago I bought an Indian sim-card for my phone, but the law is that foreign national have to register their passport details when they buy a sim-card, and leave a passport sized photo. I thought I’d bought a couple of spares with me, but couldn’t find them, so yesterday Suvidya took me to a little photoshop near his house, in Shanti Nagar, to have some more taken.
Shanti is in UP, the state on Delhi’s northern border. It’s the biggest state in India, stretching right up to the top of the country, and there’s a lot less money around than in the capital. It’s noticeable as soon as you cross the border, the potholes in the road increase tenfold and the standard of the buildings around drops. Cows and bulls roam the streets, mingling with the children (once the schools have closed) and old people sitting watching the world go by. Spaces of empty land, without buildings become dumping ground for waste, which the rag pickers will work over, finding anything of value.
Off the main road, the tarmac disappears completely, deep open sewers run alongside the road (I rescued a puppy from one of these yesterday), the shops above them, one room in the front of somebody’s house, have a step or ramp across the narrow stream of black water, leading up to them. It was to one of these one room shops that we went to find a photographer. Up the steps, and behind the counter, a photo studio: A wall with different coloured curtains for the background, and a stool. I had my photo taken, and handed over the money. Only problem? No printer in the studio, so we’d have to wait another day to get the photos that were already a day late.
Suvidaya promised to bring them to the flat this morning at 9am. At 10am Prakash was here waiting to take the form and the photos back to the phone shop, but no Suvidya. We called and found he was outside the shop in Shanti – waiting for the photos. With no way of knowing how long the photos were going to take to arrive, phone shop calling to find out where we were – we decided to try somewhere else.
Prakash and I jumped on his bright red bike, and we headed up Loni road, just over the crossroads (four lanes of traffic, a stop light with a countdown and everyone jostling to be first when the lights go green) we pulled upside another photo booth. India is a land of contrasts, from the vast wealth divide between the upper classes, and the street people, to the mix of spirituality and materialism, and the contrast between the litter strewn streets, covered in dust from the millions of exhausts, and the road works – to the expensive camera and PC inside the shop. The newest technology in the most unexpected places, like the TV’s I have glimpsed inside the tents of people living on the roadside.
Getting the photos printed here was no problem, so I’ve now got a working mobile phone. The only must have accessory for people of all castes in India.
This afternoon, another bumpy dust rickshaw ride down Loni road, just across the Delhi/UP border into Ambedkar colony. This is one of the new outreaches this year. Today was a special day, the performance of English here, and then an hour of Buddhism, but today it was two hours of Buddhism. The first a chaotic drama, with about 50 children all pressing up against our chosen performers. The second a Pureland service, just for adults and the children of the family hosting us.
It was wonderful to hear the sound of nembutsu from all these different voices, from the 10 month old baby (more of a gurgle than a nembutsu) to the oldest adult, our rikshaw driver, joining in for the first time today. I shall have to tell you more about him sometime. I confess to being nervous before leading the service, I wasn’t sure how much people would understand, even with Pratap, our wonderful translator, and knew that they’d been doing things in a different order to what I’m used to. I think the main issue for me is learning at what level to pitch what I’m saying, I can feel resistance to ‘dumbing down’ the dharma, I expect because I know how much it means to me, the depth of the teachings I have received. But our practice is very different to what people here are used to – it’s the first time many of them have done formal practice, or received Buddhist teachings of any kind at all. Usually the chanting and meditating is left to the monks, and there are simply not enough qualified and willing teachers around to explain the dharma, so it will really be a case of keeping it very basic.
We’ve two services tomorrow here in the shrine room, so I’ll shall try to keep that in mind, channel my enthusiasm for the depth and complexity of the teachings into a simple heart practice.
Namo Amida Bu
Tags: india
Add a Comment
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Comment by Sophie Mason on March 1, 2009 at 10:37am -
It's fantastic to be able to hear about Delhi from here (bodhgaya), ah the wonders of the internet!
Namo Amida Bu
Sophie
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Comment by Dharmavidya on February 25, 2009 at 6:56pm - Great to read this account. Namo Amida Bu. Much love - Dh
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Comment by caroline brazier on February 22, 2009 at 5:28pm - Wonderful to read about your experiences. The service and the drama both sound fantastic - you sound in your element!
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