SAYING GOODBYE IN NEPAL
                                                                                         by Barbara Lange (This is a short story I wrote for a writing class.  The basis for the story is drawn from my memories of Kathmandu, Nepal and Kopan Monastery, a Buddhist spirtual center where we studied in the year 2000.  It is just a taste of the wonder and joy we found in that place.)
 

     As she boarded the plane to Singapore, she felt as if her heart would beat so hard it would stop suddenly and she would die.  But the voice inside her head said, “This is just the first step, take the next one and then the next one and then you will be there.  So she climbed the steps and found her seat and settled in.  She read and slept and listened to Mozart  and finally after 24 hours of impossibly long air travel, she arrived in Singapore.  The airport loomed and opened its yawning doors to her. Strange sights and sounds assaulted her and it seemed no one spoke English.  She hurried to her connection and found the seemingly tiny Nepal Air prop plane waiting for her at Gate 27.  A smiling oriental face welcomed her aboard and she was on her way.  She began to cry as the plane lifted off.  She had waited so long, anticipated this journey for so many years ... and here she was four hours away from Kathmandu.  Her mind was full of expected images, long held dreams and she could feel the excitement mounting.  As she peered out the plane’s window at giant mountain ranges, she let her breath create a drawing board and traced symbols and faces that came to her.  Dreamily, she realized that she was in an alpha state and some of the faces spoke to her and some of the symbols came alive.  They were telling her
something, something familiar.  Almost too soon the captain announced the descent to Kathmandu.  She gathered her things and watched the magnificent horizon come into view.  At last!  Nepal and her beloved Kopan Monastery, the place that had come to her in dream after dream for five years.

     She left the plane quickly, found a taxi and gave directions to the monestary.  The next hours were filled with incredible twists and turns and then slow climbing as they left Kathmandu.  The clear, sharp air of the high mountains made her breathe slowly and her cheeks reddened with anticipation and altitude.  And then, there it was.  Just as the pictures had promised.  Lovely buildings covering a high hill, intricate architecture and mysterious gates and steps.  As they entered the gate of Kopan, she read the words written on the cobblestones,
“Welcome Home.”  She was delighted and touched.  That these words were in English surprised her and she knew that her guidance had been correct.  A small and quiet monk greeted her as she left the taxi and introduced himself as Khedup, one in charge of visitor administration.  He was very kind and gentle and guided her to her room, promising her that if she needed anything,
he was just a few steps away.

     Jillian loved her room which overlooked the great Kathmandu Valley.  It was simple but functional and clean.  The next two weeks she studied with the monks in the gompa, thankful for the English speaking nun who offered this course in the fall of each year.  She chanted and prayed and rang the temple bells.  Her hikes around the monastary were full of joy as she watched the small boy monks at play.  Every Saturday, they flew their kites from the roof of their dormitory and their laughter was carried by the wind across the monastery grounds.  Meals
were healthy and very good.  Eating breakfast in silence while one looked out over these tall mountains shrouded by clouds was a highlight of her day.  Everyone and everything was of importance in this place.  The smallest insect was respected and all voices were soft and compassionate.  She fell in love with everything, with its monks and with the kind and simple lifestyle.  All of her dreams were realized. And then came the day for her to leave.  Jillian cried
for two days as she thought of returning home.  This was her home ... or had been in lifetimes past. Her heart ached as she thought of leaving these loving people.  All of her present life had been a preparation for this place.  She knew she was reliving many lives she had spent in such places and she did not want to leave.  But the voices said that this was a different life for her, a life of action and challenge and outer world learning.  The message was to go home, to face the
difficulties and relationships that awaited her.  Any other choice would be an escape and she would have to repeat it later.  Jillian took a deep breath and nodded agreement.  She saw the taxi waiting at the gate with all of the monks standing there to say goodbye .  Then she turned and waved, her small hand fluttering like the last leaf on a tree in late October.

                                                         the end

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