Zana and the Tantric Kadampa Retreat, Part 1

[zana16]

Yes. Yes, I am procrastinating. I do not want to pack. Bah.

So instead, I give you my trip! With excessive wordage, because I am like that. Without pictures, because I fail at getting my pictures off my camera.

...I still have pictures on my camera from the trip to Australia four years ago.

Getting there

Getting there was not easy or fun. I woke up early, finished packing, lugged my suitcase down to the Metro, changed lines, then onto a bus, then half a mile walk to work. At 7 am, I showed up to work having already sweated through the shirt I knew I'd most likely be wearing for the next 52 hours.

One of the last things my boss said to me was, "So who's going to be covering your shifts while you're gone?" at which I boggled, then firmly put it from my mind. This turned out to be bad, as the answer was, apparently: no one, because my boss did not schedule anyone to cover my shifts. I did not find this out, however, until two weeks later when I came home.

SuperShuttle picked me up at work around 1 pm. I was mainlining fruit because it was the second day that I was finally allowed to eat fruit after Phase 1 of The Diet Cleanse From Hell. I managed to leave my carefully-packed dinner in the fridge at work, however, and called from the airport to let them know to throw it out as otherwise I knew I'd be coming back to a molded-over heap. ...Which I did.

I was a little sleep-deprived and trying to keep myself "up." I was also very much inclined to be happy and beaming in the general direction of everyone, cause I was thrilled to be going. Intimidated, yes, but also thrilled. So I babbled to the SuperShuttle driver a bit about the retreat, and Buddhism, and he started talking about how he tries to live his faith every day -- he was Muslim -- and I thought for about a mile there that we'd made this great connection, that we understood each other on this faith level, and I'm pretty new to this faith gig so that was pretty awesome.

Then suddenly, within a single sentence, he went from "live and let live" to "except for the gays," and that was not so happy. Usually I tune out about then, let the homophobic rants work themselves out and die a natural death, but I had to say, just quietly, "I don't agree with you." And then I had to keep saying it, because he would not shut up. There were several points at which I wanted to lose my temper, but I was going to a Buddhist retreat, and anger is a delusion, and I just wasn't going to go there, not that day. But I also wasn't going to stop saying, "I think you're wrong, I think they're people, they just want happiness." And it was all about "they" cause there was no way in hell I was going to put myself into this, I wanted to get to the airport thank you very much, and also he straight-up said that he didn't understand lesbians but at least it's not as bad because there's no sodomy involved. All of which made me sad, because I'm pretty sheltered from having to deal with crap like this on a daily basis. But finally we picked up some more people, and I was not the only one in the car, and I put in my earbuds and listened to Starsky/Hutch podfic on my ipod, mostly to spite him.

I will say this, though: never again will I automatically add in tip for SuperShuttle when I make the reservation. The drivers in future will get a few bucks cash at the curb if and only if they refrain from telling me about how my perversions are the cause of so much disease and misery.

Checked in waaaaaaay too early, went through security. It was my first time at Dulles, which... does not seem like a well-planned-out airport. Found my gate, decided that I probably wouldn't be able to eat whatever they were serving on the airplane as Phase 2 of The Diet Cleanse From Hell involved no sugar or starch, so I walked a looooooooong way and found a restaurant, and sat reading the Dalai Lama's How to Practice, of which the section on Tantra is exceedingly unhelpful for the total novice. Eventually someone sat at the table next to me, and we fell to chatting, and she told me a lot about Roman Catholicism and her PR work. And then I went back to my gate and found 8585_john and girlonaroad. The flight was delayed, of course, because it was supposed to land at Heathrow at 5:50 the next morning and apparently they had just found out that Heathrow doesn't let anyone land before 6. Which, um, not so comforting that the airline didn't know that.

Finally we got on the plane, and I was sitting in the row in front of John and Em. Next to a gorgeous girl who was so perfect I kind of didn't really believe in her, and kept staring at her all night to see if she was a delusion. I hope I didn't creep her out -- she was sleeping most of the staring-time. There was also a troupe of Chippendale dancers on the flight, which amused me to no end. ...And then there were the dueling screaming babies, who did not let up all night, so none of us three got any sleep.

We spent about three hours on the ground at Dulles, because something was up and all overseas flights from the entire Eastern Seaboard had to be rerouted for some inane reason, but finally we got underway just as I ran out of S/H pr0n on my ipod.

Flying in over London, I kept recognizing buildings, not from when I'd been there before, but from Doctor Who. That building got taken out by the Daleks... That one the Cybermen... This was to become a pattern. Last time I was in England, I experienced it all through the lens of literature; Em and I were raised on a lot of the same literature, so we wanted to see what a moor looked like, and find a secret garden, and go to Kensington Gardens cause that was where Peter Pan became a Lost Boy, and to Oxford for Harry Potter-ness and Brideshead Revisted, and a whole host of other literary things. This time, I saw a lot through the lens of various shows I've watched, and fandoms.

We finally made it to Heathrow, two or three hours late. Going through customs, we had to tell the guy where we were headed. Nine days meditating in the Lake District, "...And then I'll be in Cambridge for two days," I finish, because I was planning to visit byslantedlight, and did in fact.

He eyes me. "Why on earth would you want to be in Cambridge for two days?" he asks. He is smiling, so I think it was a joke.

"I'm meeting a friend." I hate going through customs cause I feel it's none of their business where I'm going or what I'm going to do. It isn't as if I'd admit to any sinister plans if I had them! Also they asked me for Slanted Light's last name, which I still do not know and had to make up for them, and her address likewise.

"How do you know the friend?"

Are you for real? "We met online... a while back."

"Yeah? How?"

I'm beginning to get annoyed. "I don't remember, we were in a discussion forum..."

Em, impatient, answers for me. "They met through an online fan club."

"What fan club?" The guy is snickering at my discomfort. Damn it, I do not talk about fandom with people outside of it! Em only really knows about it peripherally, because she lived with me.

"Er... The Professionals?"

He stamps my passport, but doesn't pass it back. "She going to pick you up in a Ford Capri?"

And so I met the first man who'd heard of my favorite show. I've met another since, an Australian (who is hot, and very probably gay, worse luck.)

We acquired our hired car and John started driving. A few false starts -- we didn't have any really good maps with us, and John was just getting used to driving on the left -- but eventually we made it onto the road we needed. And then we just drove. For five hours. I tried to stay awake -- this was my opportunity to See England, before sitting in a monastery for nine days -- but I did not. There was a bit of a scare when the first two ATMs I tried refused to take my card, but the third did and that was a relief, as it meant the different between mooching off of the kindness of others and being able to pay my own way.

Eventually we made out way into the Lake District, and found the town of Ulverston. We did not find the flat I was staying at, as the streets were all one-way in inconvenient directions, so they dropped me off and I set off, dragging my suitcase behind me. I saw a lot of robes, lots of ordained monks and nuns, so I knew I was in the right place!

There was a market going on in the town square, so I loaded up on fruits and veggies, then tried to find my flat. Number 37. I found number 36. Then number 38, right next to it. There was not an "other side of the street," though, so I began to get a little worried. I wandered over a bike shop, talked with a local, then wandered back. Voila, number 37 had materialized! Right between 36 and 38. Feeling rather foolish, I looked around for the key, another detail I wasn't all that clear on. I found it under a rock, let myself in, and almost collapsed.

I stashed my luggage in the room with the double bed -- I would be sharing with a complete stranger -- then headed out again for more groceries. Didja know that in the UK, they don't keep eggs in the refrigerator? I looked all through the store, couldn't find eggs anywhere, and was starting to panic as this was one of the few sources of protein I'd be able to consume in the presence of other Buddhists! Couldn't find any yogurt without sugar in it, but I did obtain some very nice cheese. Dropped it off at the flat, then headed for the information center to get a bus schedule. Stopping in at the post office to buy postcard stamps, I ran into Holly! We changed her money, acquired a sketchy map, and set out to find the monastery.