11 September 2011

Namo Buddha Album

Here's just a brief taste, in pictures, of my last couple of months in Nepal. If you'd like to know more about my trip, my work at the clinics in Chapagaon and Namo Buddha, and/or are interested in volunteering please call or email me at jabkij@gmail.com. I'd love to chat about it.

Learn more about these wonderful places and the amazing work these clinics are doing by visiting their sites.
Vajra Varahi Health Care Clinic - http://www.cglf.org/projects/activity.html
Namo Buddha Clinic - http://www.namo-buddha.org/clinic.html
Himalayan Children's Fund - http://www.rinpoche.com/hcf.html

If anything I did or wrote has moved or touched you it is because of these compassionate organizations that have taken me in, cared for me, taught me, and allowed me to share my practice with hundreds of people. Please help them to continue their amazing service by donating (tax deductible) directly to them through these sites. And please, share these links with as many people as possible.

With sincerest gratitude, compassion and love...
until next time-
Namaste,
Joe


Typical bus ride in Kavre
Road to Namo Buddha on a good day











Village between Namo Buddha and Dhulikhel
Entrance to monastery - since demolished

 Thrangu Tashi Yangtse Monastery 









Thrangu Clinic - top window was my room










left to right: Nyima - Tibetan Medicine; Lama Yonten - Director; Jamyang - In Charge; Dorje - Tibetan Astrologer

Karma Norphel











Over 3,000 people treated in three days during Health Camp











Morning patients before doors open

Massage and 1st Aid Room















Working at the Canteen












Not all of my patients had just two legs


Purgay after treating his ear
















 

Lama Rigzen and I after a session.


Nyima's Revenge
Nyima's Practice
Dorje and I after a session

Kathmandu Valley

From the top of  Thrangu Tashi Yangtse Monastery 


07 September 2011

The Mission is Over (for now)


This is not the end of a chapter in my life but a wonderful beginning. I’m sitting in Delhi Airport with five hours before my flight to Chicago and I can’t help but being overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude.

Thank you to my family, all my friends and teachers without whose love and support I could never have made this journey in my life.

Thanks to MMW for pointing me in the right direction.

Thank you to the team at Vajra Varahi clinic:

Nicky you have a wonderful clinic and its success is due to your dedication and devotion.
Marce you greeted me at the door on a rainy Friday evening, yelled at me to take off my 
shoes, and have been a wonderful source of support and kindness since.

Joel it was an honor to meet you. Thank you for sharing with me your knowledge, experience, and advice. I hope to once again learn from you.
Lee, my British brother, you’ve taught me that life is much more fun and interesting if you               challenge it with a smile and meet it head-on.
Mac, Dayna, and Ben you’ve showed me how to treat patients with compassion and love.
You are amazing doctors.
My Nepali brothers and sisters: Prajwal, Satyamohan, Tsering, Ritesh and Manesha. You              accepted me for who I am and have been patient, loving and understanding. I will always               treasure what you have done for me.

Thank you to Ratna. You are one of the wisest people I know. Thank you for sitting with me, teaching me, and talking to me. I do miss our conversations.

And special thanks to HH Phakchok Rinpoche. You took time out of your busy schedule several times to talk with us and me. You are a great man and I greatly appreciate your candor and your vision. I hope you’ll allow me to have an audience with you once again soon.

Thank you to the Namo Buddha team:

Lama Yonten you brought me in and made me feel at home. I do not take lightly the trust you   have given me.

Jamyang Dorje I will meet you again. Your dedication, compassion, and knowledge inspire me   to work harder and be better.

Karma Norphel I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You have been a great friend and a   wonderful source of support.

Thank you to Lama Ritzen for the instruction and the tour – you make the world much more beautiful with your work. Khenpo Sherab for being patient and trusting me. Nyima, Dorje and Yamchung you always brought a smile to my face and made me feel at home. Michelle and Rima for all your support and friendship-we will work together again soon.

I invite you all to please visit these sites and learn more about the mission of these two wonderful and compassionate organizations. My work in Nepal is but a small drop in an ocean of the good that they do. If you can, please make a donation so that they can continue their mission. The money you give will help continue their work (and donations are tax deductible).

Vajra Varahi Health Care Clinic -               http://www.cglf.org/projects/activity.html

Namo Buddha Clinic -                                  http://www.namo-buddha.org/clinic.html

Himalayan Children's Fund -                      http://www.rinpoche.com/hcf.html

** I do apologize for the lack of updates in the last couple of months. I could easily blame the lack of internet connectivity (which there was), but I really did throw myself into my practice while at Namo Buddha. In the next several days I’ll make one more post with just pictures of my experiences at NB. Now that I am in the states please feel free to contact me jabkij@gmail.com if you would like to know more about my humbling yet amazing experience or maybe even if you’re interested in volunteering in Nepal.

Dr. Joe ?!?

“Doctor, can you help?”

 The humility I feel when I hear this question is indescribable.

Yes, the clinic is only open three days a week, but I’m on-call all the time. I’ll be lying in bed being lazy and spending an off afternoon reading when there is a knock on my door. Sometimes there isn’t even a need for words, “just show me where it hurts.” Sometimes I’ll be sitting in the canteen having a cup of tea when a monk walks up to me and points to his shoulders. Sometimes I’ll be walking back from lunch and a student in the school asks for a session. Sometimes the evening is rolling in and Lama tells me that someone is having trouble with pain and is coming to the clinic to see me.

Each time this happens I am filled with a sense of humility, responsibility, and honor. Whenever a monk asks for my help it’s always respectfully and sometimes bashfully. What they don’t understand is that I would work with them day and night if given the opportunity. The trust that they have in me and the friendship that they have extended to me has made me feel like a part of their family.

 Therapeutic and Mindful
Western/Eastern Massage and Bodywork
By Dr. Joe
NPR’s 500 / 45 minutes
Time:     4:00 – 6:00 PM
All the funds go to
Thrangu Free Clinic
This is a sign that hangs in the canteen and is in the guest houses at the monastery. With the clinic only officially open three days per week with the services directed toward the villagers, I thought that it might be a good idea to extend my practice to visitors and travellers. The clinic, like the school and the rest of the monastery, operates on the generosity of sponsors and donators. The medicine for the villagers, the treatment of the monks, and my board and housing are all made possible through a network of compassionate and kind givers throughout the world. Already on an extremely tight budget, I wanted to find another way to contribute and repay the kindness and generosity that has been extended to me. Humbly, I asked Jamyang if offering my practice to western visitors for a fee would be allowed outside the operating hours of the clinic. Like me, he thought it would be a great opportunity for the clinic and for my practice and created the sign.
So now I work with villagers three days, visitors in the evenings, and the monks whenever and wherever they could catch me. It has taken a little while, but finally my practice has become well interwoven with my daily life. I’ve learned that the two are not exclusive of each other. I cannot treat patients effectively unless I work on and improve my practice of mindfulness and compassion each waking moment. It’s with a complete sense of gratitude that I’m able to practice and grow in this wonderful place.

Peace and Namaste!!!

The Daily Grind

Namo Buddha is the site where, moved by extreme selflessness and compassion, Prince Ngingdui Tshenpo offered his flesh and blood to a starving tigress and her five cubs. The prince would then be reincarnated as Guatama Buddha.

This is my new assignment in Nepal. Here, about 2,000 meters above sea level and surrounded by large rolling hills and scattered villages, I am to continue my practice with the villagers and the monks of the monastery. Here I will also continue my education of compassion, impermanence, ego, and love.

My new home is much different than my home in Chapagaon where I spent the last three months. At Namo Buddha the clinic is only open three days: Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Unlike my previous assignment, I am pretty much on my own: there are no other westerners; no other body workers; no exclusive interpreter; no massage table; no internet; very limited cell service; and complete immersion into the Buddhist monastic life. Ahhhh, it sounds difficult and maybe unworkable, but here I’ve been learning that the only things that prevent me from doing good are my pride and my ego.

Although my situation may sound difficult, the support that I have been receiving here has been incredible. Lama Yonten is the clinic director. When I first arrived on July 1, Lama invited me into his office to express his expectations and to find out more about what I could do. He saw in me more than I saw in myself and was ready to entrust the care of the villagers into my trembling hands. Lama was the first monk that trusted me enough to ask for my help with some back and shoulder pain. During my time here he has been a gracious host in is home. Jamyang  Dorje is the operating manager and a brilliant monk. With compassion and a light heart he treats villagers and monks with everything from cuts to serious illnesses. He is my go-to guy. When I need something or have questions he is always willing to offer his help. And then there’s Karma Norphel. Karma has been my best friend here. His main job is to work the reception and pharmacy in the clinic. Even when he is overwhelmed with villagers all I have to do is poke my sad head in through the pharmacy window and say please help me and he drops what he’s doing to come and translate for me. When Lama is off teaching and Jamyang is off organizing another health-fare, it is Karma that keeps me entertained and answers my often naive questions about Dharma and the life of the monks.  These three monks have turned a very scary and difficult situation for me into one of great learning and great reward. There are many more monks here that have and continue to make this a wonderful experience. Without their support I shudder to think what a mess I would be.

My typical Monday…

06:00     Wake-up: usually I do this on my own. There are, however, many times that it’s Karma’s banging on my door telling me breakfast is ready that rouses me from my slumber.

07:00     Breakfast. Some habits have been hard to break. Unless someone brings breakfast or we decide to make it together, I’m happy with a cup of coffee while watching the clouds and morning fog move across the valley.

08:00     Shower. Most buildings in Nepal use solar panels to heat the water. Well this is monsoon season. Many mornings I wake the villagers with my screams from the cold shower.

08:30     Walk. This has become a regular practice. Most mornings I walk down the hill to the village because that’s one of the few places I can get a cell signal. It also gives me a chance to meet and play with the resident pack of dogs that protect us from intruders.

09:30     Clinic. Most work mornings I go down to the clinic a little early to set-up my treatment table open the windows and get ready for the patients.

10:00     Treatment. Now the people start to come. Knees, backs, shoulders, feet, etc.

11:45     Lunch. Here I eat lunch in a large dining hall with a hundred other monks (breakfast and dinner are also in the dining hall, but I rarely take advantage). The food is typical Tibetan and Nepali. I have never eaten so well. You can eat as much as you want, but the actual eating only lasts about ten minutes, so eat fast.

12:30     Canteen. The canteen is a general store for supplies, a café, and a hang-out for everybody. It’s a great place to make connections, have a few laughs, and treat locals, monks, and visitors.

13:00     Clinic. Back to work.

16:00     Tea. This is usually the end of the work day. We gather in the kitchen or sit on the terrace and share tea and stories.

18:00     Dinner. Sometimes I do go to the dining hall, sometimes we all make dinner in the kitchen, sometimes I’ll just stick to some simple noodles.

19:00     Canteen. The day winds down at the canteen. Here I sit most evenings and listen to stories (mostly in Tibetan or Nepali so I don’t understand what is being said), sometimes a game of cricket or soccer breaks out.

20:00     Walk/Read/Meditate/Sit

24:00     Sleep

If I had to give a schedule for a work day, this is it. Later I’ll explain how my life here is far too interesting to be scheduled so easily.

Peace and Namaste.

Namo Buddha - My New Home

This is such a special place. The Thrangu Tashi Yangste Monastery, above Namo Buddha, sits about 2,000 meters on a peak in the southern highlands of Nepal just east of the Kathmandu Valley. The hills are pock-marked with small villages, tall trees, vagrant leopards, and muddy roads. The weather is much cooler than the valley and I spend countless moments sitting on the roof of the health clinic experiencing being swallowed by vast, rolling clouds.

After lunch on July 01, I loaded my bags into a waiting taxi, exchanged heartfelt good-byes with my partners and took off down the rainy road to my new adventure. My knowledge of Namo Buddha and was limited to its location, distance from Chapagaon, and the length of my stay there as a therapist. The two-hour cab ride turned into almost four hours. That was my first sign that this would be, at the very least, an interesting experience and a memorable adventure. About half way up the muddy road, the cab got stuck. The deep trenches proved to be much too treacherous for the small car. Each time it lunged forward the wheels dug in deeper and large rocks scraped the bottom of the vehicle.

After several attempts the driver pulled over, shook his head, and in broken English declared, “no way.” To his credit, he didn’t throw me out. We were still about 6km away from the top and there was no way that I could carry my load alone up the hill in knee deep mud. We both got out of the cab and he lit a cigarette while, what seemed like, getting instructions from three boys fascinated by a cab and a white guy stuck half-way up a mountain. He pulled out his cell and made a phone call. I’m slowly learning that it’s customary for Nepali men to raise their voice when frustrated – not so much in anger as much as a need for the other party to clearly understand a situation. He shook his head and handed the phone to me. It was my friend from Chapagaon, Prajwal. Ahhhh, finally a friendly voice. His instructions were simple: call the monastery, tell them to send help because the driver can’t make it up, and then call him back. BLAHHHHHHHH!!!! Thanks for the advice Prajwal. What else could I do, but make the call.

A week before I had the fore-sight to purchase a Nepal cell phone. My thought was that it would make for a great way to stay in touch with my Nepali friends and if the occasion arose, emergencies. I called the monastery and spoke briefly sharing my predicament with a couple monks, before they told me to pass the phone to the driver. He spoke with them at length before handing the phone back to me – no one was on the other end and I couldn’t talk with the driver. My limited vocabulary of four Nepali words proves to be a bit lacking. So, we stood there looking at each other while he kept mumbling, “no way.” Ahhh, I guess this is how the universe speaks to me.

Some tense moments passed before I heard the telling jingle ringing from my hand. It was my phone – they called back. Good news, “Hello, this is Lama Yonten. Our van is in Kathmandu, so we can’t pick you up. Soon (an hour or two) a bus will come your way. Take the bus up to the top of the hill and call us; we’ll meet you. Whatever you do, don’t let the driver leave until the bus arrives. Good-bye. Now let me talk to the driver.” What else was there to do, but accept this situation as just another character-building event in Nepal.

I sat down on a rock overlooking the valley and tried to make myself comfortable. This may be a long wait. The urge to laugh became overwhelming and I broke out into a goofy chuckle. It must have been that laughter that scared the driver into his car. The engine turned over, he put it in gear, I turned around and saw him drive off. I’m not sure if it was fear, dinner, sense of responsibility, personal challenge, or just annoyance, but he flew through the mud. When he reached a small crest, the cab stopped and waving hand out the window invited me to run up to him. Once again we were on the move. This time it was with the determination to not let the muddy road get the better of us.

Finally we reached a little hamlet at a crossroad. An old wooden sign with the destination Namo Buddha carved into it on a post pointed down a little hill to the right. Ahhhh, that must be it. Finally, I’m home. We drove the couple hundred meters through the muddy town until we reached a barrier. An ornate gateway with a concrete step told us that this is it. I jumped out of the cab and called the contact number that I had, “We’re here. I’m standing near the stupa.” The voice at the other end told me to wait right where I am and he’ll come down to greet me. I unloaded my bags, paid and thanked the driver, and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited.

Hmmm, that was another lesson that I learned that day: Namo Buddha, the town, is different from Namo Buddha the monastery. After a while of standing in the mud with my bags being amused by the antics of roosters chasing each other, I saw two monks walking towards me. “Doctor Joe?” OK, Im not a doctor, but that never stops me from being amused and feeling warm and fuzzy. I’m not really a doctor, but I play one in Nepal. We grabbed my bags and walked through the gate to a little café next to the stupa. Karma, the monk that greeted me and the young man who will become my Nepali and Tibetan voice while I stay here, asked if it would be OK if he does a kora around the stupa a couple of times before we go up. “Of course, I’ll sit here.”

“OK, let’s go.” Karma instructed me after he returned to my side.

“Are we going to the clinic? How far is it?” I asked like an impatient five year old at the end of a long family road trip.

“From here, just six minutes.”

Hahaha…it was six minutes (more like twenty with my bags) up a steep concrete road. The three of us managed the bags pretty well until we reached the top and I got my first glance at the beautiful monastery. I’m still amazed by the site even after seeing it so many times. We entered the first building on the left – the clinic and my new home.

25 June 2011

FACING THE TRUTH

Four Noble Truths
1.       Suffering Exists
2.       The Cause of Suffering Can Be Realized
3.       Cessation of Suffering Can Be Achieved
4.       Following The Path Ends Suffering
This is the foundation of the Dharma. Regardless of which school or teaching of Buddhism one follows: Theravada, Mahayana, Vajrayana, etc. the path is paved by the same stones – The Four Noble Truths.
While in Nepal I have had several different teachers and many different lessons. Some of the teachers, as the lessons, have been kind and compassionate while others have been harsh and blunt. Either way, it has been hard not to allow these teachers and my lessons to have a profound impact upon my personal, professional, and spiritual lives.
Last Saturday I travelled to the White Gompa in Boudha to hear a public teaching given by Chӧkyi Nyima Rinpoche. The Dharma he shared, entitled Common Sense, was presented in an insightful and personally relevant manner. During his teaching Rinpoche focused on the common sense of how attachment brings about suffering (suffering also includes discontent). The more we have, the more we possess, the more we cling - the more we suffer. The more I have, the more I think, the more I cling – ahhh, the more I suffer.

This poignant ninety minute teaching encouraged me to re-evaluate. While sitting there listening to him speak, my brain started to take stock of the suffering that I've been experiencing and its connection to attachment. Much of my quiet time recently has been spent contemplating the many ways that the loss of the objects of my attachment has led to and will bring about suffering, pain, and discontent. According to Rinpoche, we often fall into the trap of attachment: people, relationships, money, status, brands, food, drugs, alcohol, and even life.

While working at Vajra Varahi Clinic I've encountered attachment in many different forms. Too often I find that my patients are attached to their pain. It takes large leaps of faith to allow a foreigner to place his hands on you to take something away that you have learned to live with for so long; even something as unwanted as physical pain can become an object of personal identity and attachment.  I'm learning that in order to help my patients I must first view each one as a person rather than a case of muscular dysfunction or a patient. Only when I see them as people can I try to treat them with compassion and understanding. Only when a person feels that my intentions are rooted in compassion and that my ego is not driving my methodology will they trust me and try to let go.
My attachment to "I" has been a constant struggle. The pain of letting go of my personal and professional relationships to come here was difficult, but it was a sacrifice I needed to make. It was also made with the understanding, at that time, that in a few short months I will return and pick-up where I left off. Since coming here I've learned that life does not wait for anyone. There is no pause button – change is constant. It was my attachment to ego that made me feel that things don’t change unless you want them to. Life and the universe, however, constantly change. My belief that I can avoid change is as big of a mistake as a belief that this experience has not changed my life.

The suffering that I've been facing lately has been a little different. Since my arrival I've made strong connections and friendships with the people  whith whom I have lived and worked. In the past recent weeks Joel, Lee, Mac, Dayna, and Marcela have left the clinic to pursue their careers, studies, and lives. Each one of them has had a profound impact upon my professional or personal life; quickly growing attached to their compassionate and giving hearts. The terrible thing about those attachments is waking up in the morning and facing the reality that these beautiful people are gone. The suffering I feel, however, is not a result of the relationships, but rather a result of my attachment to those relationships. My hope that those relationships would not end is the source of that pain. It would be easy for me to avoid that pain by not opening myself to new relationships and experiences, but then we all would miss out on the wonderful exchange of each others talents and graces.
Next week I'll be leaving the Kathmandu Valley and this wonderful clinic to continue my work in Namobuddha. By moving on I'll be leaving behind not only many regular patients, but also the interpreters and monks who I count as my friends and teachers. Satyamohan, Prajwal, Ritesh, Tsering, and Manisha have taught me so much while working with them. We have always been quick to remind each other to let go of our own egos; almost always with a smile and a laugh. The past few weeks I've also been working with a brilliant young monk, Ratna Mangalam. Together we've work on his English writing and in return he has given me friendship and shared tons of knowledge about the Three Jewels. There have been many other monks that have graciously accepted me as a friend and have shared their lives with me. My friends Dudhul and Sangay have been a daily source of joy and laughter. These wonderful young men and women have given me much to cherish and many reasons for attachment.
Ahhh, there's the rub – exactly what Rinpoche was talking about. Next week I'll be living in my fifth “home” within a year. My homes and possessions I rarely think about, but the people with whom I've grown attached I miss terribly. Those attachments are the source of my suffering. Each person that has been my friend, my teacher, my family member, my partner has affected me in a way that has taught me to seek out and practice compassion and loving-kindness within my work and my life. So, how can that possibly bring suffering? It’s the attachment. Through attachment I have neglected one powerful law of the universe, impermanence; everything must someday end - hmm, even me.

This has been a difficult lesson for me to learn, but one that continues to slap me harshly in the face. All that I experience now may be gone tomorrow. Every relationship, regardless of how insignificant or profound, sooner or later will end. All that I have will eventually disappear. These have been humbling realities for my ego to face, but ones that I’m glad that I must resolve. Rather than fostering nihilistic feelings of what’s the point, they've made my life and practice all the more special. Armed with the knowledge that tomorrow will be different, what choice do I have but to live today with love, compassion, and kindness? Knowing that the person with whom I build a relationship today may be gone tomorrow, what choice do I have but to love that person honestly and genuinely while cherishing and growing every minute? Knowing that I am leaving in a week, what choice do I have but to treat each patient that comes to me with all the knowledge I’ve been entrusted and all the metta within my heart?
I’m far far away from renouncing all forms of attachment. This will be a life-long lesson that'll be marked by daily struggles with discontent, pain, and suffering. My experiences and relationships since I have been here have shown me that the love I can give and receive today, the compassion that has been shared with me and I share today, and the kindness that has been shown to me and that I express today are much more powerful and meaningful if today I let go and live with an open and free heart.
NAMASTE!!!

29 May 2011

ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?!?!

I shake the shoulder of a young monk on the ground and ask, “Are you alright? Are you OK?”
Shoot, his eyes are closed. My right hand gently pushes down on his forehead while I use my left forefinger and thumb to lift his chin as the side of my face almost touches his nose and lips – no breath on my cheek, no sound from his mouth, no rise in his chest.
“Marcela, he’s not breathing. Run across the road and get a doctor. He’s not breathing. RUN!!!!”
Marcela jumps out of her chair and runs out the door.
With intertwined fingers and locked elbows, my body rocks rhythmically – a steady machine delivering firm compressions down into his young chest as I count out loud at a pace of two thrusts a second.
“One, two, three, four, five…twenty-nine, thirty.”
My knees slide up alongside his head, again I tilt his head back and open his mouth.
“Nothing inside.”
Bending down, the fingers of my left hand pinch his nose and I form a tight seal around his mouth. Two hard exhales into his mouth cause his chest to rise.
“Nothing.”
Start again, “One, two, three, four, five…”
“Damn, where is Marcela? Where is the doctor?”
Feelings of anger, desperation, worry, concern, and compassion begin to flow through me. I can’t get lost in those thoughts. I have to keep counting.
“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…”A small crowd starts to gather around us. Even our two cats stop playing to watch with interest at this strange play between a “sleeping” monk and a sweating white guy in the Saturday afternoon Nepali sun.
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”
Back to his head. I barely get one breath to pass from my lungs to his when I feel his tightness and he gasps for air. A smile.
Marcela, Ben, and Dayna try to hold back, but they fail not to laugh with the group of twelve monks sitting on the benches watching me and the monk on the ground.
A couple weeks ago we met with Phakchok Rinpoche to discuss healthcare, our views, and the needs of the clinic. We suggested a first-aid class for some of the monks who live in the gompa, monastery, next door.
Whenever there is a need for medical attention, the monks cross the yard, enter the clinic, come find one of us, and we provide immediate care for them. Anything beyond our scope, we take across the street to the health facility where more detailed care can be given or they can use their ambulance to transport to a hospital in case of emergencies. This system has been working well, but there are gaps that need to be filled.
The other night we were all at Lela’s having dinner when a monk came to tell us that he needs help. We dropped our card game and ran over to the clinic (just a few meters away). One of the younger boys, 8-10 years old, slipped and hit his face on a step. His lower lip was swollen around a large open wound. Definitely he needed stiches. The young boy, another older monk, Marcela, Dayna, Lee, Ben, Satyamohan and I walked across the road to the healthcare facility and sat and waited. Ben and Dayna comforted the young monk while he was being stitched, Marcela and Satyamohan took care of the paperwork/payment, and Lee and I entertained two dogs while we waited. The tough young guy is going to be alright and he’ll have an interesting story to tell.
Rinpoche really liked the idea of the first aid class, but also wanted us to add a disaster component. With all the recent occurrences in the world, Rinpoche feels strongly that it is important that the boys and men in the monastery are prepared in the event of an earthquake.
The best time for this training is on Saturday and Sunday afternoon. The monks have about two hours of free time on those days – after lunch and before the afternoon/evening puja, prayer. We set out to prepare a rudimentary session that included resuscitation, choking, cuts, burns, shock, concussion, broken bones, heat injury, animal bites, and earthquake preparedness. The more we researched and prepared the earthquake component, the more we realized that we needed help. We reached out to the Nepali Red Cross for more information and guidance, but in the meantime would give what information we could.
The sessions went very well on the terrace of the clinic. Discussions and trainings are always best when held outdoors. On Saturday there were about twelve monks and Marcela, Dayna, Ben, and I had just enough time to demonstrate and explain resuscitation, choking, and shock. Today we had a smaller crowd. Sundays are often spent with visiting family. We were able to cover the remaining material and discuss the actions that need to be taken in the event of an earthquake.
The two afternoons went splendidly. I was out of my element, but the information we shared was important enough to forget about comfort. Thankfully, we all worked as a team and each member proved to be invaluable. Because of that a group of young men are better prepared and much more comfortable dealing with an emergency. I can’t be grateful enough for the opportunity to help them get there.
NAMASTE!!!