Monlam Chenmo

Today is a holy day for the Indian and Tibetan inhabitants of Dharamsala. For the Hindu, it’s Holi, a day of much celebration and colored-dust throwing. I saw one guy walking down the street purple from head to toe, except his eyeballs.

For the TIbetans, it’s Monlam Chenmo, a prayer festival in praise of Buddha Shakyamuni. His Holiness the Dalai Lama gave a teaching this morning down at the main temple in McLeod Ganj. It was an amazing and powerful event. I’d seen His Holiness once before, 2 years ago in the same place, at a festival to honor his Nobel Peace prize. At that time, it was snowing, I was sick, and it wasn’t a teaching.

This morning, the courtyard was full of people — westerners, Tibetan lay people, monks and nuns. It was a clear and beautiful morning. After a few minutes of prayer, pomp and ceremony, His Holiness got down to the business of giving a wonderful teaching on the core of Buddhist philosophy of emptiness, replete with his characteristic pithy examples and anecdotes. He taught from the text, “Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way”. In discussing the view of the impermanence of things, he described the Chinese Communist leaders as behaving as they do because of not seeing clearly. He told of how flies go towards light because it’s attractive to them, and they get zapped by bug zappers because that light is attractive to them, though they’re not seeing clearly what the thing really is. And I didn’t catch the whole thing but he told a story of someone who was meditating to increase their patience, who when asked to eat shit, got angry. That one got a chuckle but I’m not quite sure what the lesson there was. Something about continuing the things we practice in meditation, in the rest of life.

His Holiness gave a nod to theistic religions, counseling the westerners in the crowd to respect their traditional beliefs even if they themselves prefer to practice Buddhism. In wanting to do right in a god’s eyes, he said, you’re doing right by others, and the result is still of benefit. And he extolled listeners to reflect, contemplate, and examine the teachings. No blind faith here, that would be missing the point.

His Holiness concluded with the Refuge and Bodhichitta prayer, a powerful prayer that invokes the aspiration to raise compassion towards all. He called the group in attendance a “mahayana sangha”, a community of those working towards the release from suffering of all. Having been thinking about my own practice in these ways, it was an amazing stroke of luck and timing for me.

I decided to forego yesterday’s Uprising Day marches and speeches in favor of a quiet day, as I was still catching up on sleep and getting over a cold. It was an important day for Tibetans, though, the 50th anniversary of the uprising and a big change in tune from His Holiness on the issue — from consilience to serious displeasure over the Tibetan suffering under the Chinese. His statement can be found here, and is well worth a read.

Election heard ’round the world

With inauguration day, I’ve been thinking about all the people in India, Nepal, and the cities of Tibet, who talked to me in the fall about the US election. They had ranging levels of understanding of US politics and its implications, and about Barack Obama and what his election means.  Most were very happy, shaking my hand when they heard I had voted.

I was on the Changthang, northern Tibet, on the day of the election.  Up there, in the evenings, it is possible to get a staticky BBC World Service via shortwave radio, and that was the first way I heard the election result.  A phone call to my dad gave me the state-by-state rundown.  Noticing the palpable unhappiness of the people there, I felt so hopeful that at least at home things might get better.  Unfortunately – though China and the US are similar in more ways than we might like to admit – an election as momentous as this one is the strongest symbol of what makes us different.

Journey continues

I’m slowing down for this last week on the subcontinent, and finally taking some time to process. I’ve been writing about some of the issues that I’ve been noticing as I travel, as much stream-of-consciousness as reasoned argument. One of the reasons I haven’t gotten more in-depth about foreign policy or infrastructure management or pollution is because I haven’t had the time to learn enough about all the complexities and challenges surrounding these very difficult problems. It would take a lifetime to become an authoritative source. Yet around the world, more and more people like me – privileged, educated, emphatic individuals are seeing first-hand what most of the world faces on a day-to-day basis. And that alone is powerful.

I am in India now, where the mood is rather somber following last week’s terrorist attacks in Mumbai. Two years ago I visited some of the places that were targeted in the attacks, and newspapers here show pictures of what the places look like now, burned out and all but destroyed. Sentiments here seem to range from disbelief to cynicism, and a deep sense of fatigue with the constant possibility of terrorism.

From my perch now near Dharamsala things are peaceful – it is unseasonably warm, making it comfortable outside during the day and tolerable at night (practically tropics after Tibet). The drive up, uncomfortable and winding, always makes arrival feel like that much more of a blessing.

whilst flying over eastern Europe…

Do you ever sit up and wonder, just a little, how it is that your body came to be in the location that it’s in?

It’s 1 in the morning eastern time and the flight map indicates we flew over Lodz just a little while ago.  Soon we will be over Afghanistan, looking out at mountain ranges and canyons, feeling brazen for crossing the desperate country with such ease.

Leaving the United States, I sent up the wish that my county be wise, and careful in the coming months.What happens there will affect the world. I will not be there to witness it, but I will feel the effects certainly.

My flight left out of New York, and flew over Connecticut and the Quabban reservoir in central Massachusetts, before sailing across Boston. I looked out just in time to see Logan Airport and the Charles River stretching out below, where I had sat only hours before. The sun set as we followed first Massachusetts and then Maine coastline, increasingly jagged, before leaving it all and crossing the Atlantic at night. It is now daytime here – bright and sunny over clouds that cover the sky as far as I can see. It seems from here that all Europe is under a cloud today.

I am reminded of the last time I made this flight, feeling as though we were hanging in suspended animation over desert mountain ranges of Iran and Pakistan for hours. My heart was not quiet, mind full of wonder. I remember the physical feeling I had, and the sense of nervous excitement that I don’t like but somehow always bring into my life by taking these trips. What is it that asks me to go overseas as I do?

I am leaving so much that is familiar – more than I have been willing to admit. And for what? The simple gut feeling that I should go. Perhaps it is simply to avoid the cynicism that comes from getting too comfortable. It feels strange, but at the same time I’m glad to be taking this trip without specific goals for it. It is coming at a funny time to travel, and has therefore evaded any attempt to categorize it.

I am not going as a pure tourist. Nor am I going for work, or pilgrimage, or with the lofty goal of helping others. The economy is in the middle of a meltdown – a strange time for a vacation. And at JFK I looked out the window to see Aer Lingus planes, and felt this strange sensation that perhaps I was meant to be on one of them instead… on a plane to another country I feel called to visit, where travel would be full of joy and rain and music. But here I am, causes and conditions arising to place me on a plane to India, then Nepal, then Tibet.

And yet my lack of purpose does not worry me overmuch. I am confident that the openness is a good sign, something to be cherished. If only I can stay aware to what happens, perhaps the true purpose of this journey will come forward.

Traveling Shoes

I’m sitting at JFK, waiting for my flight to Delhi.  I haven’t had time to sit down and wax poetic in the past few weeks, but I’ll take this opportunity.

I have to laugh as I ponder my preparation for this journey.  I am wearing the same shoes I’ve traveled with (and is their only purpose) since my first trip to New Zealand in the fall of 2000.  They’re nothing fancy — some black and navy Lowa hiking shoes — but they work so well that I don’t even think about it anymore.  Same goes for much of my travel gear, and I joke that Ｉhave a uniform for traveling.  I sport the look in most of my pictures from recent trips.  So this time around, I’m traveling with much tried-and-true gear, and a few new gadgets.  Here’s a partial list:

• Osprey convertible pack — I had an identical one for traveling in India 2 years ago, though I busted part of the frame and the one I have now is a warranty replacement
• EMS daypack — this is a smaller-than-usual pack, but I’ve had it on every trip, and it’s the perfect size.  Packs up small, but big enough to hold all the essential carry-ons and day-trip supplies
• Isis layers — raincoat, powerstretch fleece, long underwear, hat (all trips)
• Assorted comfy clothes — pretty much the same ones I always bring… and rarely wear at home
• Stuff sacks for odds and ends (all trips) — A few years ago I worked at a canvas shop and made a few little bags while I was there.  These have been essential  for keeping organized.
• Camping equipment (Australia, John Muir Trail) — my tent (a coleman exponent inyo2), sleeping bag (ems 20 degree) and sleeping pad have kept me warm and dry for a total of months, maybe years at this point.
• Electronics — iPod (also India), Digital SLR, Point and Shoot camera, tiny laptop (Eee PC)
• Chocolate and assorted gifts for friends
• I also always have a big envelope and a pad of paper.  The envelope for holding all those papers and receipts that become important to be able to find, and paper for sketching, noting, journaling, etc.

I’ve developed a bit of nostalgia for my gear, a fondness that comes from realizing how many strange and interesting experiences it’s gotten me to (and through).

It’s also poignant, bringing me back to the experiences of those earlier trips.  For example, I found out about the Bush/Gore election from far southern New Zealand.  I was confused for three days about why they hadn’t reported the winner.  This time around, I’ll find out about the election results from Lhasa, by either filtered Internet or short-wave radio.  It could have a profound impact on how well we are able to relate to the world, how well we can work with people from different backgrounds, and whether there will be resources for new projects — and it’s strange to think that I’ll experience the decisionmaking from such a far-off place.

The FCC, policy overseas, and other ramblings

I spent the day taking pictures and wandering in and out of the FCC’s hearing on Comcast filtering BitTorrent, hosted by Berkman in Ames Courtroom at HLS. It was a heady day, full of debate and argument, and a pleasantly surprising amount of openness from the commissioners. They asked pointed questions of the panelists and gave time for responses, even asked follow-up questions.

With respect to my work with ONI, I was asked the question by a commissioner’s staffer of whether we look to FCC guidelines when we are assessing other governments’ filtering policies around the world. And honestly, I hadn’t thought of it that way before. We so often just look at the rest of the world and try to deduce a government’s actions, without looking at our own government as an example, or a starting point for an argument.

The candidness and deep sense of commitment I discerned from the commissioners and those who work on these issues every day might make me change my mind.

Tim Wu brought up the question of foreign policy at the hearing, that the decisions made about broadband traffic preference here at home could be used as an example overseas, and possibly misused. He cautioned the FCC to consider this when creating policy. So if we are to create policy that is not just exportable, but desirable as an example, what would it be?

Then came up the argument of abundance, that in this case traditional market regimes that are based upon scarcity are not necessary. The argument goes that telecoms (and other Internet services) create false scarcity in order to build value for their services, when in fact they could build a business model around abundance, which would serve the public better. If we simply had enough bandwidth, we would not be arguing about Comcast filtering BitTorrent traffic because they say torrents slow the network down.

Now comes the open question. If we are to create desirable exportable policy and consider a model of abundance, that better serves us here at home, what do we say to countries dealing with bandwidth issues across the board, where it is not an issue of false scarcity but true scarcity? Must they have a different policy? Is there ever a case in which we might adopt a sub-utopian policy at home in order to benefit those overseas?

Draft Lessig!

When CA Congressman Tom Lantos passed away last week, he left an empty seat. Those of us who have been watching Larry Lessig’s bold take-on of the flawed system of funding members of Congress were excited to see some rumblings towards encouraging him to run. The rumblings have been growing, and they’re having an effect. Larry Lessig posted a video describing his reaction to the DraftLessig (dare I say) movement. It’s fun when the person you’re trying to convince doesn’t have to be convinced to buy into the medium (blog posts and Facebook group), as well as the message.