Nepal 2025, Day Two

Warning: Today's jottings might read a bit mundane. But then again, what can one really do at a secluded meditation centre, perched in the hills and more or less physically cut off from the rest of the world? Still, there was Internet access, a pleasant surprise, and our mobile data worked better than expected. So we weren’t entirely off the grid, which helped.

I didn’t sleep well that first night in Phasku. You’d think that after a long, draining journey from Penang to Kathmandu, and then the epic drive up into the hills, I’d have collapsed straight into slumberland. The roads were punishing, all hairpin bends, potholes and bone-jarring stretches. But no. Despite the weariness, sleep proved impossible. I might have nodded off now and again as dawn approached, but for most of the night, I lay there fully aware of my surroundings.

Part of it was the unfamiliarity — a new place, a new bed and the symphony of sounds from both without and within the dormitory. I shared the space with the rest of the Nandaka Vihara group. The three ladies were billeted in their own room, so it was just us men, trying to stay quiet, each of us tossing and turning in our own way.

It wasn’t the most restful start to the stay. But I suppose that’s usual in a place like this. Simple, silent and stripped down to the basics. The kind of place where everything slows, and you’re left alone with your own thoughts, whether you like it or not.

By five o’clock in the morning, we were already up and moving about, getting ready for the full day ahead at the Dhammadāyāda meditation centre. 

In the mist, we made our way along the path to the dining hall, a 10-minute walk, to help prepare breakfast for the monks — their first proper meal of the day. There was quite a crowd of international meditators there as well, all attending a two-month retreat, lining up for their food in silence and mindfulness. Once the monks and the retreatants were done, it was finally our turn to tuck in, grateful for the warm food. Me especially, since all I had the night before was a small bun salvaged from the airline during our flight from Bangkok.

After breakfast, our work began. Soon Beng took charge of our little kitchen team. We chopped vegetables — broccoli, mushrooms, carrots and more — and prepared a few Malaysian-style vegetarian dishes for lunch. Nothing fancy, but good enough to keep our group busy. Once lunch was out of the way, we were left to our own devices for a while until it was time for our much-anticipated visit to see Sayadawgyi Bhaddanta Āciṇṇa.

The Sayadawgyi, now a frail 90-year-old, was in bed when we met him, propped up by pillows but still sharp and alert. I watched the proceedings as best as I could. There was a brief moment when he reached down and allowed Bhante Dhammasubho to grip his hand gently. It lasted no more than 20 seconds, barely noticed by anyone else, but the fleeting gesture spoke volumes. A quiet, wordless exchange of mutual respect between teacher and student.

Later in the day, we strolled around the grounds and visited several senior monks in their individual kutis which were all quite modern and well-kept. We had brought along small gifts from home. We had wondered earlier what had become of the international meditators after lunch, and in the afternoon, we finally found them seated silently in the meditation hall, deep in their practice.

As evening fell and the sun disappeared behind the hills, we turned to our stash of instant noodles for dinner. We had been forewarned that there were no evening meals provided at the Dhammadāyāda, so the instant noodles would have to do. With the last of the daylight gone, we made our way back to the dormitory in darkness, torches in hand, and tried to settle in for the night. However, it was another restless sleep for me. Nevertheless, I managed to doze off for a bit longer this time. Not quite a proper rest, but at least something. To be continued.....