July 11th—Jain Su (aka Mr. Jain) and leaving Gebchck

Although quiet, reserved and rarely smiling, I could tell when I met him that Mr. Jain was ‘one of us’. It was easy to see through him to his big heart. As we start on our journey, he barely answers when anyone speaks to him as he religiously keeps his eyes on the long, slow bumpy road to Nangchen.

While Tashi sings and lets out yelps of “Tsa, Tsa” at every mountaintop, Mr. Jain never cracks a smile. When he isn’t driving, he plays some sort of game on his cell phone, which drives Jeffrey and I crazy. Beep, beep, beep, and then some stupid marching song comes on – maybe it is revelry.

We all laugh at Tashi’s loud and impassioned singing and rejoice as we toss paper prayer flags out the windows, even Lama Chuying chimes in. Everyone, that is, except Mr. Jain.

He became obviously nervous in Shangar when Nema began speaking about the bad roads. Little did I know then how Nema would save the day!

We take off for Gebchek early, with Mr. Jain driving. It is Mr. Jain, Tashi, Nema, Jeffrey and I. After a few hours, Mr. Jain can’t drive any more and Nema takes over. Now, here is Mr. Jain sitting in the back seat with Tashi and I – Tashi in the middle, laughing, singing and in a great mood. Mr. Jain sleeps. The roads get worse. The tension grows heavier and the signing stops. No more sleeping for Mr. Jain!

The tension is broken by either Jeffrey or Tashi and we all find relief in a round of great laughter or just stopping the car so everyone can smoke, except, of course, Jeffrey and I. There seems to be something about being so scared that is tremendously bonding. Like maybe these are the last people we’ll ever speak to. Whatever it is, Mr. Jain starts opening up. He even laughs a couple of times and what a wonderful, contagious laugh! We all have to laugh with him! His entire face changes when he laughs.

So, before long there ensues this male bonding thing. Invariably, I am off by myself taking reprieve in the hillsides or trying to pee on the opposite side of the car. In fact, I think the whole thing shifted when I’d asked Jeffrey to keep ‘the boys’ on the opposite side of the car from which I was going to relieve myself. So, there I am squatting on the side of the road and guess who walks over? Mr. Jain! He is so shy! He let’s out a small exclamation and quickly retreats to the other side of the car. All the guys are laughing uproariously! Isn’t it funny! When we are all so nervous, laughter feels like such a fantastic outlet. We all feel embarrassed for Mr. Jain, and all feel a little bit more relaxed.

As the road gets worse, we feel his anxiety raising. This car is his livelihood, as Jeffrey so aptly points out to me privately. As we leave the village after the big scare with the skid, he asks me if I will pay for damages and getting the car out of a ditch, if needed. I tell him, no, I don’t have that much money with me. We pile back into the car and the boys have a long conversation about insurance and that he must have some. The question dies. I pray.

There is great elation when we finally get out of the car on put our feet on the land of Gebchek. Mr. Jain even gets excited with us – it would be impossible not to. Later in the day he is swept with us into Rinpoche’s room. He is later led into the prayer rooms, past the very sacred and secret places. He is adored, along with us, by the nuns. The air is filled with a hint of gaiety.

The only thing that keeps nagging at me is the weather. The thought of going down that mountain makes me want to throw up. But perhaps a worse thought is that the rain won’t stop and we will be stuck up here for days or weeks. Nema told us on the way up that he was stuck in a village home for 20 days once on he way home.

It is still cloudy and raining as we go to bed. Jeffrey, Nema and Mr. Jain all have jobs to get back to soon. Again, I feel this overwhelming sense of responsibility and I pray nothing happens to Mr. Jain’s car.

The next morning, after again meeting with Rinpoche, I announce to the guys that our work is complete and that we can leave whenever it is safe. Because it is so cloudy and raining outside, I am assuming that means in a day or two. God willing!

Early afternoon. I lay down on my cot for a nap. Something inside of me is just beginning to let go of all that I’ve been holding. I am so tired suddenly. As I begin to drift off, I pray for sun. The one great thing about the sun here is that the elevation is so high; the intense heat dries things up very quickly. Just a bit of sun – please.

Next thing I know, Jeffrey is whispering in my ear. “Wake up. It is time to go”. What? The sun has come out, the car is completely packed and, best of all, and we are going to try a different road. I didn’t even know there are two roads! Tashi and I go to say good-by to Rinpoche. Tashi asks him about the road and Rinpoche says, yes, it is best to take this other road. Tashi and I walk down the hill filled with great joy, katas from Rinpoche, packages of blessed herbs and Rinpoche’s blessing for our journey.

The beautiful Tara Malas that Tashi’s wife and cousin made are on the altar in the prayer room and all the arrangements have been made for this project to continue to thrive and benefit everyone involved here. Everything has turned out even better than I ever dreamed it could have and I feel a deep sense of gratitude and fulfillment. I know that, no matter what, everything will be OK now.

There is a mix of excitement and trepidation as we pack ourselves back in the car, Jain Su in the back seat with Tashi and I. Apparently, this road is impossible to cross when there it is actually raining because it becomes washed out by the river. But the sun has come out and we all believe it will be safe. Dear Jain Su has no idea what amazing things his car is about to do.

We hold our breath as Nema pushes the jeep through deep, rocky waterbeds. I don’t know how we don’t get stuck! Nema is the best driver – we all say that over and over – even Jain Su says it. There are small broken down bridges that Nema avoids by taking what looks like uncrossable alternate routes. Jain Su’s car is layered in piles of mud. We edge our way up the steep mountain and take a high, narrow road that looks down far below at a deep and fast moving river. This time I am sitting on the drop-off side. “Roll down the windows!” Tashi is telling us that we must keep the windows down in case the car falls into the river – then we will be able to swim out of the car. But the wet mud splashes onto my face with the window open! Oh, Well. It is all still so much better than the ride up to Gebchek. This is just medium scary! At times there is that feeling you get when you are on a roller coaster – so scary, but also exciting! There are many times we all let out a great “Hooray!” for Nema as he gets us across another seemingly impossible crossing.

Even Jain Su seems to be enjoying this ride at times. Tashi elbows him in the ribs every once in awhile, loosening him up and getting a great laugh out of him. It’s hard not to join in Tashi’s exuberance.

We arrive in Shandar, call Tashi Rinnpoche’s sister and all meet for dinner at the same restaurant we went to before we started our journey to Gebchek. We order a bunch of almost warm beers, are given the little shot glasses they use here to drink from, and have toast after toast. Everyone is speaking in Chinese, but it doesn’t matter. Jeffrey and I join in the laughter and the retelling of stories with the same enthusiasm as everyone else. Jain Su doesn’t stop laughing and talking. Is this the same guy? We have toasts to Nema and toasts to Jain Su and his great car.

There is a deep bonding among us, especially the four guys. God, I am so grateful to them. Each is so capable, so dedicated. No one has gotten frustrated, impatient or has given up. Something happened between us that became bigger than the five of us. It took us, carried us. Of course, Tashi and I were in the back seat the entire time praying to Tara and saying her mantra together. We are convinced it was her. After all, it was Tara that took me to this land in the first place!