|
From Kewzing to Yuksom via Rabdentse, Pemayangtse, and Sangachoeling
|
In the morning I took photos of the paintings on the walls of our room, and then of Agya Chemi, Aiela Sangay Doma, and Tashi Tshering in front of their house. Agya Chemi ushered us in the chapel where we did the cha (ceremonial prostration); then he presented both of us with a khada (ceremonial scarf).
We have hired a care for the whole day, and are now leaving for Yuksom, the first capital of Sikkim where our 8-day high-altitude trek towards Mt. Khangchendzonga will begin. Milan, our driver, will take us to Yuksom via the second Sikkimese capital Rabdentse and the famous Pemayangtse monastery. Milan worked as a chauffer for important officials for 17 years, and it must have been that experience that has lent him a certain air of authority, whether asserting his right of way while driving or when ushering us in, for example, a restaurant—as if we were VIPs whom he is supposed to take care of.
Rabdentse was a royal capital of Sikkim from 1670 to 1814. What remains, though, are only moderately interesting ruins. A very pleasant path to the site meanders through a forest and takes one past the thickets of exuberantly phantasmagoric ferns. On our way to the ruins we met a large group of Russian tourists coming down from the site. The signage (first, no signs at all but then a sign every 0.5 km) is kind of funny: the conspicuously blue boards encourage you not to lose hope, to keep going, and to anticipate a great excitement, as if the 3-km path from the gate to the site were a hard-core trek rather than an enjoyable walk. The ruins themselves are not too impressive but the surrounding landscape makes the stroll worthwhile. I find it is strange that virtually no buildings have remained, even though merely two centuries have passed since the capital was abandoned. The only explanation I can come up with is that most structures were made of wood, and in the warm and humid climate they just rotted away.
Next stop is Pemayangtse Gompa, one of the most famous, oldest (1705), and important monasteries in Sikkim. Pemayangtse used to be a royal monastery. It belongs to the Nyingmapa school, the branch of Tibetan Buddhism established by Guru Padmasambhava himself. The interior of the gompa is spectacular. On the second floor, after passing a number of truly remarkable statues depicting wrathful manifestations of Padmasambhava, one comes to a tranquil library. Despite its fame, the gompa was empty during our visit, save for the same Russian group and a few Indian tourists.
The third floor offers a surprise: Zandog Palri is a mind-boggling 7-tiered structure representing Guru Padmasmbhava's heavenly abode. Lonely Planet indicates that it was made by a single lama over the course of five laborious years.
Across the road from the monastery there stands a group of charming older wooden houses on stone foundations. Sadly, some of them have lost their character somewhat, because of the ugly modern additions.
We stopped at the faceless town of Pelling for lunch. Inside a restaurant we saw a large blackboard advertising a rather extensive menu. In reality, not a single item from it was available! We ordered a noodle soup with vegetables and something else, and when the lady-proprietor went next door to get the ingredients she was bitten by a dog (!), and—understandably—she muttered rather angrily while cooking. Yet, the resulting lunch was surprisingly tasty.
Over lunch: discussion with Wanchuk whether to go to the Khacheopalri lake or to the Sangachoeling gompa. The lake seemed to be a tourist trap, so I decided to go to the gompa. Humble as I am, it is one of the best decisions I've ever made!
The road to the gompa was serpentine, unpaved, and ridiculously steep. We could've easily walked up but Milan, probably out of sheer pigheadedness and professional pride, kept insisting that he'd drive us up there. His poor Suzuki was terribly overheating and obviously struggling. We finally managed to persuade him to stop. He let us out and we walked up the remaining short stretch of the road.
Sangachoeling Gompa is situated on the top of the mountain, and the views are breathtaking. After walking over surrounding hills and taking in the magnificent scenery we went back to the monastery.
While Wanchuk was talking to someone over a cup of tea, I went to the main temple. A young lama let me in to the second floor. What I saw there made my jaw drop in astonishment: inside, everything exuded the air of authenticity, as if the time machine brought me three-and-a-half centuries back. The monastery was built in 1642, and despite what the guidebooks say, it is probably the oldest in Sikkim. Right across the entrance there is a supposedly original seat of the monastery's founder. Unusually, above the altar that contains bluish statues of incarnates, there is a bookcase-like structure filled with holy scriptures. The young lama led me to the first floor and unlocked the door to the main hall. Its walls are adorned by beautiful but discolored murals, some of them crumbling. I did my cha, placed the Agya Chemi's khada at the main altar, and made a donation.
Outside, I Wanchuk was still talking to somebody. His interlocutor turned out to be lama Sonam, an important lama at the gompa. Lama Sonam led us back to the temple and showed us around, offering detailed explanations in Tibetan. Wanchuk responded to him in Bhutia, and also translated for me. The monastery, like the later established Pemayangtse, belongs to the Nyingmapa school. According to lama Sonam, Nyingmapa is the most tantric of Tibetan Buddhism schools. We walked to the second floor, and the lama invited us into a small room that I missed when I had been there a few minutes ago. There, an old monk was chanting. In front of him there was a stack of prayer texts (pecha); as he was progressing through the prayer, he turned rectangular unbound leaves inscribed in Tibetan. From time to time he struck a drum with a curvy stick and made a trembling sound with two cymbals he picked up from his lap. Lama Sonam motioned us to sit. We remained there for a while, listening to the old lama's hypnotizing chant. I was worried, however, about Wanchuk's backpack with all his audio-visual equipment that I left at the entrance, just inside the door to the second floor. We did our cha, Wanchuk placed his two khadas on the altar and made a donation. It remains unclear to me whether the old man prayed for us or we just witnessed him doing a prayer for someone else. We left the small room (the backpack was still at the door), and lama Sonam told us more about the second floor altar and its interior.
We left the main temple, and lama Sonam lead us to the second, smaller, gompa now being used as a classroom. Then he pointed to a huge slab of rock hanging over a cliff. This is a sacred place where an important guru meditated. The slab shows clearly visible cracks filled with concrete. Legend has it that when Nepali invaded Sikkim they gathered a great number of historically and religiously important Sikkimese manuscripts and burned them at that slab. It was then that the stone cracked.
While having a cup of tea after the tour we chatted with a guy from San Francisco who turned out to be originally from Riga. I spoke some Russian with him. Isn't it strange that in that remote corner of Sikkim I met a Russian tour group and then another Russian on the same day? Russians are coming? :)
Back in the car with Milan we set out for our final stretch to Yuksom. The road was very challenging: winding and narrow. Strangely, some segments of it were paved, while others were not, with no discernible rhyme, reason, or pattern. Probably, this has something to do with who gets a contract to pave a given stretch of the road. We crossed a scary-looking suspension bridge and soon after arrived to Yuksom.
Doma, a daughter of the Dragon Hotel's proprietor, was welcoming and friendly but clearly sick with a cold or a flu. Our room No. 203 was pretty big; shared bathrooms with geysers were just outside. The room cost Rs 200 (~$5.00) per night. How these people make a profit is beyond me. We had a dinner at the kitchen; there, we got a first glimpse of the hotel's proprietor (Doma's mother). Quite a character! Being the center of everything, she bossed everyone around.
The food was excellent, and to relax at the end of the long day I ordered say chan. Outside, it was raining heavily, and I was wondering what the weather would be like during our trek. The rain stopped, and we took a short walk along the muddy road in the darkness. Wanchuk was tired and felt under the weather. I gave him Theraflu and Tylenol PM. Was he catching a flu from Doma? That wouldn't bode well. I wrote down the day's impressions and went to bed.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.
0 comments:
Post a Comment