It was after dawn and a few hours from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, by the time we reached the river. We had stayed almost two weeks in China. Finally, largely through the skillful negotiations and trilingual capacities of Yungdrung Manang, a Cottage Grove sangha member, we had acquired a travel permit, a small bus and a good shot at making it through the mountain roads frequently closed by mudslides. Now the unspoken sense of firm and forward motion toward Tibet was marked by Rinpoche' s simple statement ''This river was the traditional boundary between Tibet and China." Though the Chinese countryside still swept past us, we knew that we had entered Rinpoche's homeland of Kham.
The track through the foothills above the Chengdu Plain turned up the Dado River Valley that carries the swollen and silt-laden waters from the eastern face of Daxue Shan, a 150 mile-long mountain range that rises to 7500 meters. After the town of Luding, where a later version of T'hang-tong Gyalpo's famous iron-chain bridge still stands, the river is squeezed into a tumultuous course as the valley narrows and deepens. Climbing higher, the road switches from one riverbank to the other, grasping a man-made foothold, and eventually rises to the high treeless pass that marks a more formidable boundary of Tibet As we circumambulated the stone cairn that guards this lofty place, Rinpoche's single comment was again quite clear: "Do the Wrathful Guru mantra." We were in Tibet.
The towns of Kanding, Zhaggo, and Garze came and went over several days, the latter as we struck out for the area of Nyarong and Chagdud Gonpa. What had been a horse trail in Rinpoche's youth was now a dirt road leading down yet another river valley cut deep through the ridges towering above us. Thirty miles from the town of Renub, we were met by a truck carrying some twenty monks from Chagdud Gonpa. Then a jeep for Rinpoche and Jane appeared. Our three vehicle caravan continued on, soon to be met by a line of fifty Khampa horsemen, each dismounting to present Rinpoche with a ceremonial scarf before circling the vehicles and escorting us onward. Just outside of town, the entourage was joined by monks and lamas carrying banners and playing horns and drums. The caravan slowed almost to a stop as we entered Renub, and a crowd of more than a thousand people swarmed around the jeep to welcome Rinpoche home.
Inaccessible by road, Chagdud Gonpa perches on a jutting ridge perhaps one thousand feet above the road. Escorted again by the fifty Khampas, we mounted horses and headed up accompanied by the animals' neck bells and the clip clop of hooves on the rocky trail. The details of the landscape fell away and the vista of mountain ranges opened up as we climbed. Sacred peaks identified with local protectors, deities, and Guru Rinpoche lined up one upon another as we ascended to the grasscovered ridges that lead to the gonpa. Again we were met by the sounds of cymbals, drums and horns as lamas, monks and villagers welcomed Rinpoche in an atmosphere charged with deep devotion. Rounding the last hillside, we slowly entered the walled compound of Chagdud Gonpa and circumambulated the temple to the plaza in front. For the second time since his exile in 1959, Rinpoche had returned to his seat in Tibet.
The large temple at Chagdud Gonpa is three or four hundred years old, ninety feet square and three stories high. Never destroyed, its walls are covered with a panorama of painted deities and scenery. Massive columns and long banners rise thirty feet to the intricately carved and brilliantly painted architectural detailing of the ceiling, visible even in the dim light of the interior. The main statues behind the far wall rise up twenty-five feet, the heads most discernible from a second-story balcony. The smaller temple, likewise intact, is eight hundred years old and surrounds a large Guru Rinpoche statue built around a rock outcropping. It is the most sacred place at Chagdud Gonpa.
For the twelve days we stayed at the gonpa, a near constant line of lamas, monks, nuns, relatives and community members formed to speak with Rinpoche. Some negotiated the projects that Rinpoche and Western students were sponsoring: seven one-year retreatants for the next four years doing Akshobhya and Takhyung Barwa practices, completion of a new prayer wheel, new tin roofs for the two temples and Rinpoche's house. Some brought bits of fur and skin, strung like pearls on a string, clipped from the ears of herd animals whose lives the owners had promised to protect. Others brought the names of recently deceased relatives or the stories of torture, imprisonment and death that they or their fellow Tibetans had endured during the Chinese Communist takeover of their country. Rinpoche was constantly asked to pray for these people. In the home of his previous incarnation's birth, he and others performed a dur ceremony for the dead. The sick, the lame and the dying, carried on litters, all came. Everyone offered scarves and money, even the poorest. Many gave Rinpoche their most prized possessions; all were heard with a compassionate ear and received Rinpoche's offerings, blessings and prayers.
These scenes were repeated as Rinpoche went on to Tulku Arig's gonpa, where the latter's two-year-old incarnation had been enthroned; to Tromtar, the home of the great Tromge lamas; and to Tempel Gonpa, where Rinpoche's sister, Trinley Wangmo, and Tza Khiy Khandro, the reincarnation of Rinpoche's mother, live. In both places the monastery's treasures–old statues, t'hangkas, and musical instruments– were offered to Rinpoche, though he refused to accept these gifts, saying he had come to increase their wealth, not to take it away.
So brief an account can convey only a taste of Rinpoche's trip. This narrative also cannot do justice to the lamas, dakinis, tulkus and siddhas we met, nor to the vivid biography of Rinpoche's lifetimes that unfolded as we passed through his homeland. In closing, I want to note that the bond between Chagdud Gonpa East and West is strong and will continue to manifest, for in fact we are one sangha with one teacher in one dharma.
Robert Racine
It was after dawn and a few hours from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, by the time we reached the river. We had stayed almost two weeks in China. Finally, largely through the skillful negotiations and trilingual capacities of Yungdrung Manang, a Cottage Grove sangha member, we had acquired a travel permit, a small bus and a good shot at making it through the mountain roads frequently closed by mudslides. Now the unspoken sense of firm and forward motion toward Tibet was marked by Rinpoche' s simple statement ''This river was the traditional boundary between Tibet and China." Though the Chinese countryside still swept past us, we knew that we had entered Rinpoche's homeland of Kham.
The track through the foothills above the Chengdu Plain turned up the Dado River Valley that carries the swollen and silt-laden waters from the eastern face of Daxue Shan, a 150 mile-long mountain range that rises to 7500 meters. After the town of Luding, where a later version of T'hang-tong Gyalpo's famous iron-chain bridge still stands, the river is squeezed into a tumultuous course as the valley narrows and deepens. Climbing higher, the road switches from one riverbank to the other, grasping a man-made foothold, and eventually rises to the high treeless pass that marks a more formidable boundary of Tibet As we circumambulated the stone cairn that guards this lofty place, Rinpoche's single comment was again quite clear: "Do the Wrathful Guru mantra." We were in Tibet.
The towns of Kanding, Zhaggo, and Garze came and went over several days, the latter as we struck out for the area of Nyarong and Chagdud Gonpa. What had been a horse trail in Rinpoche's youth was now a dirt road leading down yet another river valley cut deep through the ridges towering above us. Thirty miles from the town of Renub, we were met by a truck carrying some twenty monks from Chagdud Gonpa. Then a jeep for Rinpoche and Jane appeared. Our three vehicle caravan continued on, soon to be met by a line of fifty Khampa horsemen, each dismounting to present Rinpoche with a ceremonial scarf before circling the vehicles and escorting us onward. Just outside of town, the entourage was joined by monks and lamas carrying banners and playing horns and drums. The caravan slowed almost to a stop as we entered Renub, and a crowd of more than a thousand people swarmed around the jeep to welcome Rinpoche home.
Inaccessible by road, Chagdud Gonpa perches on a jutting ridge perhaps one thousand feet above the road. Escorted again by the fifty Khampas, we mounted horses and headed up accompanied by the animals' neck bells and the clip clop of hooves on the rocky trail. The details of the landscape fell away and the vista of mountain ranges opened up as we climbed. Sacred peaks identified with local protectors, deities, and Guru Rinpoche lined up one upon another as we ascended to the grasscovered ridges that lead to the gonpa. Again we were met by the sounds of cymbals, drums and horns as lamas, monks and villagers welcomed Rinpoche in an atmosphere charged with deep devotion. Rounding the last hillside, we slowly entered the walled compound of Chagdud Gonpa and circumambulated the temple to the plaza in front. For the second time since his exile in 1959, Rinpoche had returned to his seat in Tibet.
The large temple at Chagdud Gonpa is three or four hundred years old, ninety feet square and three stories high. Never destroyed, its walls are covered with a panorama of painted deities and scenery. Massive columns and long banners rise thirty feet to the intricately carved and brilliantly painted architectural detailing of the ceiling, visible even in the dim light of the interior. The main statues behind the far wall rise up twenty-five feet, the heads most discernible from a second-story balcony. The smaller temple, likewise intact, is eight hundred years old and surrounds a large Guru Rinpoche statue built around a rock outcropping. It is the most sacred place at Chagdud Gonpa.
For the twelve days we stayed at the gonpa, a near constant line of lamas, monks, nuns, relatives and community members formed to speak with Rinpoche. Some negotiated the projects that Rinpoche and Western students were sponsoring: seven one-year retreatants for the next four years doing Akshobhya and Takhyung Barwa practices, completion of a new prayer wheel, new tin roofs for the two temples and Rinpoche's house. Some brought bits of fur and skin, strung like pearls on a string, clipped from the ears of herd animals whose lives the owners had promised to protect. Others brought the names of recently deceased relatives or the stories of torture, imprisonment and death that they or their fellow Tibetans had endured during the Chinese Communist takeover of their country. Rinpoche was constantly asked to pray for these people. In the home of his previous incarnation's birth, he and others performed a dur ceremony for the dead. The sick, the lame and the dying, carried on litters, all came. Everyone offered scarves and money, even the poorest. Many gave Rinpoche their most prized possessions; all were heard with a compassionate ear and received Rinpoche's offerings, blessings and prayers.
These scenes were repeated as Rinpoche went on to Tulku Arig's gonpa, where the latter's two-year-old incarnation had been enthroned; to Tromtar, the home of the great Tromge lamas; and to Tempel Gonpa, where Rinpoche's sister, Trinley Wangmo, and Tza Khiy Khandro, the reincarnation of Rinpoche's mother, live. In both places the monastery's treasures–old statues, t'hangkas, and musical instruments– were offered to Rinpoche, though he refused to accept these gifts, saying he had come to increase their wealth, not to take it away.
So brief an account can convey only a taste of Rinpoche's trip. This narrative also cannot do justice to the lamas, dakinis, tulkus and siddhas we met, nor to the vivid biography of Rinpoche's lifetimes that unfolded as we passed through his homeland. In closing, I want to note that the bond between Chagdud Gonpa East and West is strong and will continue to manifest, for in fact we are one sangha with one teacher in one dharma.
Robert Racine
It was after dawn and a few hours from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, by the time we reached the river. We had stayed almost two weeks in China. Finally, largely through the skillful negotiations and trilingual capacities of Yungdrung Manang, a Cottage Grove sangha member, we had acquired a travel permit, a small bus and a good shot at making it through the mountain roads frequently closed by mudslides. Now the unspoken sense of firm and forward motion toward Tibet was marked by Rinpoche' s simple statement ''This river was the traditional boundary between Tibet and China." Though the Chinese countryside still swept past us, we knew that we had entered Rinpoche's homeland of Kham.
The track through the foothills above the Chengdu Plain turned up the Dado River Valley that carries the swollen and silt-laden waters from the eastern face of Daxue Shan, a 150 mile-long mountain range that rises to 7500 meters. After the town of Luding, where a later version of T'hang-tong Gyalpo's famous iron-chain bridge still stands, the river is squeezed into a tumultuous course as the valley narrows and deepens. Climbing higher, the road switches from one riverbank to the other, grasping a man-made foothold, and eventually rises to the high treeless pass that marks a more formidable boundary of Tibet As we circumambulated the stone cairn that guards this lofty place, Rinpoche's single comment was again quite clear: "Do the Wrathful Guru mantra." We were in Tibet.
The towns of Kanding, Zhaggo, and Garze came and went over several days, the latter as we struck out for the area of Nyarong and Chagdud Gonpa. What had been a horse trail in Rinpoche's youth was now a dirt road leading down yet another river valley cut deep through the ridges towering above us. Thirty miles from the town of Renub, we were met by a truck carrying some twenty monks from Chagdud Gonpa. Then a jeep for Rinpoche and Jane appeared. Our three vehicle caravan continued on, soon to be met by a line of fifty Khampa horsemen, each dismounting to present Rinpoche with a ceremonial scarf before circling the vehicles and escorting us onward. Just outside of town, the entourage was joined by monks and lamas carrying banners and playing horns and drums. The caravan slowed almost to a stop as we entered Renub, and a crowd of more than a thousand people swarmed around the jeep to welcome Rinpoche home.
Inaccessible by road, Chagdud Gonpa perches on a jutting ridge perhaps one thousand feet above the road. Escorted again by the fifty Khampas, we mounted horses and headed up accompanied by the animals' neck bells and the clip clop of hooves on the rocky trail. The details of the landscape fell away and the vista of mountain ranges opened up as we climbed. Sacred peaks identified with local protectors, deities, and Guru Rinpoche lined up one upon another as we ascended to the grasscovered ridges that lead to the gonpa. Again we were met by the sounds of cymbals, drums and horns as lamas, monks and villagers welcomed Rinpoche in an atmosphere charged with deep devotion. Rounding the last hillside, we slowly entered the walled compound of Chagdud Gonpa and circumambulated the temple to the plaza in front. For the second time since his exile in 1959, Rinpoche had returned to his seat in Tibet.
The large temple at Chagdud Gonpa is three or four hundred years old, ninety feet square and three stories high. Never destroyed, its walls are covered with a panorama of painted deities and scenery. Massive columns and long banners rise thirty feet to the intricately carved and brilliantly painted architectural detailing of the ceiling, visible even in the dim light of the interior. The main statues behind the far wall rise up twenty-five feet, the heads most discernible from a second-story balcony. The smaller temple, likewise intact, is eight hundred years old and surrounds a large Guru Rinpoche statue built around a rock outcropping. It is the most sacred place at Chagdud Gonpa.
For the twelve days we stayed at the gonpa, a near constant line of lamas, monks, nuns, relatives and community members formed to speak with Rinpoche. Some negotiated the projects that Rinpoche and Western students were sponsoring: seven one-year retreatants for the next four years doing Akshobhya and Takhyung Barwa practices, completion of a new prayer wheel, new tin roofs for the two temples and Rinpoche's house. Some brought bits of fur and skin, strung like pearls on a string, clipped from the ears of herd animals whose lives the owners had promised to protect. Others brought the names of recently deceased relatives or the stories of torture, imprisonment and death that they or their fellow Tibetans had endured during the Chinese Communist takeover of their country. Rinpoche was constantly asked to pray for these people. In the home of his previous incarnation's birth, he and others performed a dur ceremony for the dead. The sick, the lame and the dying, carried on litters, all came. Everyone offered scarves and money, even the poorest. Many gave Rinpoche their most prized possessions; all were heard with a compassionate ear and received Rinpoche's offerings, blessings and prayers.
These scenes were repeated as Rinpoche went on to Tulku Arig's gonpa, where the latter's two-year-old incarnation had been enthroned; to Tromtar, the home of the great Tromge lamas; and to Tempel Gonpa, where Rinpoche's sister, Trinley Wangmo, and Tza Khiy Khandro, the reincarnation of Rinpoche's mother, live. In both places the monastery's treasures–old statues, t'hangkas, and musical instruments– were offered to Rinpoche, though he refused to accept these gifts, saying he had come to increase their wealth, not to take it away.
So brief an account can convey only a taste of Rinpoche's trip. This narrative also cannot do justice to the lamas, dakinis, tulkus and siddhas we met, nor to the vivid biography of Rinpoche's lifetimes that unfolded as we passed through his homeland. In closing, I want to note that the bond between Chagdud Gonpa East and West is strong and will continue to manifest, for in fact we are one sangha with one teacher in one dharma.
Robert Racine
It was after dawn and a few hours from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, by the time we reached the river. We had stayed almost two weeks in China. Finally, largely through the skillful negotiations and trilingual capacities of Yungdrung Manang, a Cottage Grove sangha member, we had acquired a travel permit, a small bus and a good shot at making it through the mountain roads frequently closed by mudslides. Now the unspoken sense of firm and forward motion toward Tibet was marked by Rinpoche' s simple statement ''This river was the traditional boundary between Tibet and China." Though the Chinese countryside still swept past us, we knew that we had entered Rinpoche's homeland of Kham.
The track through the foothills above the Chengdu Plain turned up the Dado River Valley that carries the swollen and silt-laden waters from the eastern face of Daxue Shan, a 150 mile-long mountain range that rises to 7500 meters. After the town of Luding, where a later version of T'hang-tong Gyalpo's famous iron-chain bridge still stands, the river is squeezed into a tumultuous course as the valley narrows and deepens. Climbing higher, the road switches from one riverbank to the other, grasping a man-made foothold, and eventually rises to the high treeless pass that marks a more formidable boundary of Tibet As we circumambulated the stone cairn that guards this lofty place, Rinpoche's single comment was again quite clear: "Do the Wrathful Guru mantra." We were in Tibet.
The towns of Kanding, Zhaggo, and Garze came and went over several days, the latter as we struck out for the area of Nyarong and Chagdud Gonpa. What had been a horse trail in Rinpoche's youth was now a dirt road leading down yet another river valley cut deep through the ridges towering above us. Thirty miles from the town of Renub, we were met by a truck carrying some twenty monks from Chagdud Gonpa. Then a jeep for Rinpoche and Jane appeared. Our three vehicle caravan continued on, soon to be met by a line of fifty Khampa horsemen, each dismounting to present Rinpoche with a ceremonial scarf before circling the vehicles and escorting us onward. Just outside of town, the entourage was joined by monks and lamas carrying banners and playing horns and drums. The caravan slowed almost to a stop as we entered Renub, and a crowd of more than a thousand people swarmed around the jeep to welcome Rinpoche home.
Inaccessible by road, Chagdud Gonpa perches on a jutting ridge perhaps one thousand feet above the road. Escorted again by the fifty Khampas, we mounted horses and headed up accompanied by the animals' neck bells and the clip clop of hooves on the rocky trail. The details of the landscape fell away and the vista of mountain ranges opened up as we climbed. Sacred peaks identified with local protectors, deities, and Guru Rinpoche lined up one upon another as we ascended to the grasscovered ridges that lead to the gonpa. Again we were met by the sounds of cymbals, drums and horns as lamas, monks and villagers welcomed Rinpoche in an atmosphere charged with deep devotion. Rounding the last hillside, we slowly entered the walled compound of Chagdud Gonpa and circumambulated the temple to the plaza in front. For the second time since his exile in 1959, Rinpoche had returned to his seat in Tibet.
The large temple at Chagdud Gonpa is three or four hundred years old, ninety feet square and three stories high. Never destroyed, its walls are covered with a panorama of painted deities and scenery. Massive columns and long banners rise thirty feet to the intricately carved and brilliantly painted architectural detailing of the ceiling, visible even in the dim light of the interior. The main statues behind the far wall rise up twenty-five feet, the heads most discernible from a second-story balcony. The smaller temple, likewise intact, is eight hundred years old and surrounds a large Guru Rinpoche statue built around a rock outcropping. It is the most sacred place at Chagdud Gonpa.
For the twelve days we stayed at the gonpa, a near constant line of lamas, monks, nuns, relatives and community members formed to speak with Rinpoche. Some negotiated the projects that Rinpoche and Western students were sponsoring: seven one-year retreatants for the next four years doing Akshobhya and Takhyung Barwa practices, completion of a new prayer wheel, new tin roofs for the two temples and Rinpoche's house. Some brought bits of fur and skin, strung like pearls on a string, clipped from the ears of herd animals whose lives the owners had promised to protect. Others brought the names of recently deceased relatives or the stories of torture, imprisonment and death that they or their fellow Tibetans had endured during the Chinese Communist takeover of their country. Rinpoche was constantly asked to pray for these people. In the home of his previous incarnation's birth, he and others performed a dur ceremony for the dead. The sick, the lame and the dying, carried on litters, all came. Everyone offered scarves and money, even the poorest. Many gave Rinpoche their most prized possessions; all were heard with a compassionate ear and received Rinpoche's offerings, blessings and prayers.
These scenes were repeated as Rinpoche went on to Tulku Arig's gonpa, where the latter's two-year-old incarnation had been enthroned; to Tromtar, the home of the great Tromge lamas; and to Tempel Gonpa, where Rinpoche's sister, Trinley Wangmo, and Tza Khiy Khandro, the reincarnation of Rinpoche's mother, live. In both places the monastery's treasures–old statues, t'hangkas, and musical instruments– were offered to Rinpoche, though he refused to accept these gifts, saying he had come to increase their wealth, not to take it away.
So brief an account can convey only a taste of Rinpoche's trip. This narrative also cannot do justice to the lamas, dakinis, tulkus and siddhas we met, nor to the vivid biography of Rinpoche's lifetimes that unfolded as we passed through his homeland. In closing, I want to note that the bond between Chagdud Gonpa East and West is strong and will continue to manifest, for in fact we are one sangha with one teacher in one dharma.
Robert Racine
It was after dawn and a few hours from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, by the time we reached the river. We had stayed almost two weeks in China. Finally, largely through the skillful negotiations and trilingual capacities of Yungdrung Manang, a Cottage Grove sangha member, we had acquired a travel permit, a small bus and a good shot at making it through the mountain roads frequently closed by mudslides. Now the unspoken sense of firm and forward motion toward Tibet was marked by Rinpoche' s simple statement ''This river was the traditional boundary between Tibet and China." Though the Chinese countryside still swept past us, we knew that we had entered Rinpoche's homeland of Kham.
The track through the foothills above the Chengdu Plain turned up the Dado River Valley that carries the swollen and silt-laden waters from the eastern face of Daxue Shan, a 150 mile-long mountain range that rises to 7500 meters. After the town of Luding, where a later version of T'hang-tong Gyalpo's famous iron-chain bridge still stands, the river is squeezed into a tumultuous course as the valley narrows and deepens. Climbing higher, the road switches from one riverbank to the other, grasping a man-made foothold, and eventually rises to the high treeless pass that marks a more formidable boundary of Tibet As we circumambulated the stone cairn that guards this lofty place, Rinpoche's single comment was again quite clear: "Do the Wrathful Guru mantra." We were in Tibet.
The towns of Kanding, Zhaggo, and Garze came and went over several days, the latter as we struck out for the area of Nyarong and Chagdud Gonpa. What had been a horse trail in Rinpoche's youth was now a dirt road leading down yet another river valley cut deep through the ridges towering above us. Thirty miles from the town of Renub, we were met by a truck carrying some twenty monks from Chagdud Gonpa. Then a jeep for Rinpoche and Jane appeared. Our three vehicle caravan continued on, soon to be met by a line of fifty Khampa horsemen, each dismounting to present Rinpoche with a ceremonial scarf before circling the vehicles and escorting us onward. Just outside of town, the entourage was joined by monks and lamas carrying banners and playing horns and drums. The caravan slowed almost to a stop as we entered Renub, and a crowd of more than a thousand people swarmed around the jeep to welcome Rinpoche home.
Inaccessible by road, Chagdud Gonpa perches on a jutting ridge perhaps one thousand feet above the road. Escorted again by the fifty Khampas, we mounted horses and headed up accompanied by the animals' neck bells and the clip clop of hooves on the rocky trail. The details of the landscape fell away and the vista of mountain ranges opened up as we climbed. Sacred peaks identified with local protectors, deities, and Guru Rinpoche lined up one upon another as we ascended to the grasscovered ridges that lead to the gonpa. Again we were met by the sounds of cymbals, drums and horns as lamas, monks and villagers welcomed Rinpoche in an atmosphere charged with deep devotion. Rounding the last hillside, we slowly entered the walled compound of Chagdud Gonpa and circumambulated the temple to the plaza in front. For the second time since his exile in 1959, Rinpoche had returned to his seat in Tibet.
The large temple at Chagdud Gonpa is three or four hundred years old, ninety feet square and three stories high. Never destroyed, its walls are covered with a panorama of painted deities and scenery. Massive columns and long banners rise thirty feet to the intricately carved and brilliantly painted architectural detailing of the ceiling, visible even in the dim light of the interior. The main statues behind the far wall rise up twenty-five feet, the heads most discernible from a second-story balcony. The smaller temple, likewise intact, is eight hundred years old and surrounds a large Guru Rinpoche statue built around a rock outcropping. It is the most sacred place at Chagdud Gonpa.
For the twelve days we stayed at the gonpa, a near constant line of lamas, monks, nuns, relatives and community members formed to speak with Rinpoche. Some negotiated the projects that Rinpoche and Western students were sponsoring: seven one-year retreatants for the next four years doing Akshobhya and Takhyung Barwa practices, completion of a new prayer wheel, new tin roofs for the two temples and Rinpoche's house. Some brought bits of fur and skin, strung like pearls on a string, clipped from the ears of herd animals whose lives the owners had promised to protect. Others brought the names of recently deceased relatives or the stories of torture, imprisonment and death that they or their fellow Tibetans had endured during the Chinese Communist takeover of their country. Rinpoche was constantly asked to pray for these people. In the home of his previous incarnation's birth, he and others performed a dur ceremony for the dead. The sick, the lame and the dying, carried on litters, all came. Everyone offered scarves and money, even the poorest. Many gave Rinpoche their most prized possessions; all were heard with a compassionate ear and received Rinpoche's offerings, blessings and prayers.
These scenes were repeated as Rinpoche went on to Tulku Arig's gonpa, where the latter's two-year-old incarnation had been enthroned; to Tromtar, the home of the great Tromge lamas; and to Tempel Gonpa, where Rinpoche's sister, Trinley Wangmo, and Tza Khiy Khandro, the reincarnation of Rinpoche's mother, live. In both places the monastery's treasures–old statues, t'hangkas, and musical instruments– were offered to Rinpoche, though he refused to accept these gifts, saying he had come to increase their wealth, not to take it away.
So brief an account can convey only a taste of Rinpoche's trip. This narrative also cannot do justice to the lamas, dakinis, tulkus and siddhas we met, nor to the vivid biography of Rinpoche's lifetimes that unfolded as we passed through his homeland. In closing, I want to note that the bond between Chagdud Gonpa East and West is strong and will continue to manifest, for in fact we are one sangha with one teacher in one dharma.
Robert Racine
