Odd Encounters

Odd Encounters ihat February in Kathmandu was fascinating and seemed to pose more questions than it answered. News of the fact that I had had a good meeting with Chatrul Rinpoche in Bodhgaya and again in Kathmandu had circulated in the local Buddhist community and had caused a small but not insignificant stir. Many, it seemed, were unwilling to believe or accept the fact that I, a relatively young westerner (I was thirty-five at the time and also not a Buddhist), had been recognized as a teacher in my own right by a highly respect- ed Tibetan master. At the end of our first meeting in Bodhgaya, after fiercely questioning me to ascertain the validity of my attainment, the Rinpoche proclaimed, "Please bring countless beings to this path." The translator for that initial meeting was a middle-aged western woman whom 1 had been told was a practitioner of Tibetan Buddhism for many years. She had come to one of my teachings in Bodhgaya and had walked out halfway through, apparently outraged at some of the Odd Encounters things

liad been saying. Not surprisingly, therefore, she appeared to he angry while translating lor the dialogue between the Rinpoehe and myself, and interestingly enough, omitted the Rinpoche's last statement. After leav- ing that first meeting, a French woman who had been there told me what the translator had neglected to tell me, and the following afternoon a western monk who had also been present during that meeting told one of my students to please communicate the Rinpoches last words to me. This kind of antagonism from many in the spiritual world has been my constant companion since I began teaching in Rishikesh in northern India in 1986. One day while 1 was resting in my hotel room in Thamel, out of the blue the phone rang. A westerner who had been living in Kathmandu for years and was a fixture in the local Buddhist community said she had a message for me from Dzongsar Rinpoehe, an internationally respected, young, up-and-coming Tibetan lama who is a tulku (a rein- carnation of an enlightened lama). Apparently the Lama was offering me a challenge, and through the caller was proposing five questions that he wanted me to answer. This is interesting, 1 thought. The five questions were: 1. What is ultimate view? Is your enlightenment produced^ /s your enlightenment w isdoin ov l\ocs it have wisdom? An I hhonditional Rdalionship to /j/( 4. What kind of action should a practitioner adopt as a practitioner? 5. What is the character of wisdom? After I put the phone down, 1 turned to one of my stu- dents and said, "Please write down the following answers: 1. No question of problem, no question of no problem. I don't know what he means by 'produced'. It is wisdom. 4. Right action. 5. Love." The following day, 1 asked two of my students to go see the young Lama to arrange an appointment so that

could meet his challenge face to face. They went to the main monastery of the late, great Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of the largest monasteries in Kathmandu. It was filled with activity because it was the middle of the Tibetan New Year and many pujas (rituals and cere- monies) were in progress. My students called for an appointment and arrived at the agreed upon time. After a long wait, the young Rinpoche suddenly appeared and ran down the stairs toward the bathroom, followed by his western student who informed them that he would meet with them shortly. Upon his return, they followed him into his room, which was fully adorned with Tibetan Odd Entonn/iTS paintings, bullerlamps, Buddhist statues and a throne. Twenty-five of his students, most of whom were western, were in the room. After ignoring my students for some time, while look- ing out the window in the opposite direction, he asked them what they wanted. They told him that they were my students, that they had come on my request to respond to his challenge and to arrange a convenient time for us to meet and speak about the questions that he had posed. He said that he didn't have any time. My students told him they were sure that I would be happy to accommodate him and would be willing to meet him any time and any place, and reminded him that it had been he who had initiated the challenge. Then the Rinpoche suddenly leapt up on his throne and shouted, "1 don't even have time to piss!" The meeting never happened. We hired a translator for my second meeting with Chatrul Rinpoche, which took place at his monastery outside Kathmandu. During the bus ride on the way there, the translator, an English woman in her late for- ties, sat next to me. She was a Buddhist nun and had been deeply involved in Tibetan practice and study for many years. I remember being surprised when, in the midst of a lively and pleasant conversation about "crazy wisdom" and the abuses of power of some spiritual teachers, she suddenly exclaimed, "Everything that the lamas do is for An VmomliHonal Rclutumship lo Life