Chapter 8
Krishna sat upright in his bed while meditating. Francis marveled at how completely comfortable his friend appeared to be without the support of anything to prop up his back. He felt like he was living with a Buddha.
As Francis unzipped the leather cover of his Office Book, Krishna’s large brown eyes fluttered open and he asked Francis if he could join him in the celebration of Morning Prayer. Together they alternated the verses of the Psalms back and forth. Krishna listened attentively as the beginning verses from the first letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians, Chapter 13 were read.
“If I speak with the eloquence of humans and of angels, but have no love, I become no more than a blaring brass or clashing cymbal. If I have the gift of foretelling the future and hold in my mind not only all human knowledge but also the very secrets of God, and if I also have that absolute faith which can move mountains, but have no love, I amount to nothing at all. If I dispose of all that I possess, even if I give my own body to be burned, but have no love, I achieve precisely nothing.”
They spontaneously prayed for the needs of all God’s people, especially those in developing countries. They asked God to send food and medical care to those most in need. They asked God for the freedom and flexibility to provide any medical care they could to the people whom they would meet on their journey.
Francis confirmed the plans for the day with the group during breakfast. They would search out the house of Tar-chin, the mother of their waiter from their dining experience at the hotel restaurant at Los Angeles.
“Ang Nyi-ma, Ang for short,” explained Francis, “wants us to check on his mother who lives here in Nepal. He believes that she might be in some danger but he has little to base this suspicion on other than an intuitive sense and some messages passing over the Internet.”
“What are these messages about?” questioned Mani.
“It seems that there is a Dorje,” Francis continued, “which is considered very sacred and has been in the family line for generations. Ang’s mother is in possession of this Dorje and some people on the Internet have a desire to obtain it for some reason. Ang does not understand the attraction to this Dorje, since millions of these small scepter-like instruments are all over Asia. A Dorje is held in the right hand and moved back and forth as a part of ritual in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. A bell is held in the left hand and moved in a similar fashion.”
Dave the detective commented, “If we understood the motivation for the attraction to the Dorje, we would have a much better handle on understanding the entire situation. Without that, I think it is our Judeo-Christian Hindu duty to see what Tar-chin, mother of Ang, is up to.”
Francis spoke again. “I know we discussed this situation and agreed upon it yesterday, but if anyone would rather go somewhere else this morning, please don’t feel obliged to seek out this place with me.”
Everybody was in agreement about going. No one wanted to miss another possible adventure with the mystery team. This one, however, sounded pretty tame in comparison with past adventures. Why they had not even stumbled upon a dead body as yet!
Karma was only too happy to guide them to the address scribbled on the piece of paper from the hotel in LA. “It’s not far,” he said, “but we do have to wander through a maze of small streets, and perhaps hop over some puddles.”
“Okay, let’s head to the van,” said Flo.
Karma said it would be much better to walk. “It will only take about fifteen to twenty minutes and we would not get out of the van very close to the house anyway. The streets are too narrow and the people and animals too many.”
“I’m just recovering from yesterday,” Flo groaned, “but I’m in.” After a quick trip back to their rooms, the seven people gathered in the lobby of the small hotel. A statue of the Hindu Deity Lord Dakshinamurti seemed to be smiling at them.
Krishna explained to his five fellow travelers that this Deity was a manifestation of God as the destroyer of ignorance, illusion, and darkness.
“May he be that for us,” Chantal prayed, as they went off on their errand of mercy.
The area around the hotel in Lhasa was busy with cars and divided by several main roads. After about ten minutes of walking the group was in a quieter yet more crowded section, at least in terms of buildings, people, and narrow streets.
Eventually the group walked into an area that held a number of what appeared to be apartment buildings. In the United States these would be similar to something built in the nineteen forties. Window boxes filled with colorful flowers brightened the neighborhood. Men and women walked the streets on their way to the shops, spinning their prayer wheels and praying on mala beads--much like a Christian rosary. Prayer flags flapped in the breeze. The triangles of various colors had mantras painted on them. A special mantra was also embossed on the metal prayer wheels. It was also written on cloth and placed inside the prayer wheels.
This mantra or spiritual phrase, which is repeated over and over again, is sometimes found in Sanskrit and sometimes in Tibetan. The words are: “Om mani peme hung” in Tibetan, and while “Om” means God in Sanskrit, these sounds are beyond translation into mere words in any language. This mani mantra is often called the “Jewel in the Lotus” mantra and can be thought of as a prayer said to purify the six realms of existence in the Tibetan Buddhist cosmology—gods, jealous gods, humans, animals, hungry ghosts, and hell.
The mala beads are used to count the number of times the mantra is prayed over and over again. The spinning of the prayer wheel is a way to send these prayers to God, as Westerners would see it. Nature prays for everyone as the wind blows the rows of prayer flags to and fro, offering this prayer to the Lord Buddha for all of creation, along with the spinning prayer wheels and whispering people.
The Buddhists do not believe in a personal God as a rule, but rather in a form of cosmic consciousness, which was very much manifested by the Buddha, and in which everyone shares. The journey of each of us, in the Buddhist tradition, leads us to enlightenment. This enlightenment is a complete experience of the consciousness of the Buddha and all that is.
Francis mused over the Christian rosary and how it is primarily the repetition of a prayer called the “Hail Mary.” That’s much like a mantra he thought. Saint Bernard, in fact, called the rosary the “ladder to contemplation.” Contemplation is, in the Western tradition, that wordless, quiet, experience of the sacred.
Francis also thought of the similarity between the mantra and the Jesus prayer. He had read The Way of a Pilgrim at the advice of his spiritual director long ago. It is the story of a Russian monk who spent much of his time walking in pilgrimage to sacred sites and repeating over and over a Christian mantra from the Gospel, “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me.”
Mani lightened things. “I’m named after the mani in the mani mantra--not for Manny, Moe, and Jack--whoever they are. I may not be the ‘Jewel in the Lotus’ but I a deeply committed to bringing unity and healing to our world. It’s a name I chose and don’t even think it. I will never tell you my legal name because I hate it, and don’t look over my shoulder when I have my passport open either!”
“Here we are,” said David, with a hint of trepidation in his voice. “I don’t have a great feeling about this,” he continued.
“You’re off duty Detective,” Chantal chided.
“I know, I know, mea culpa, mea culpa, isn’t that what you Catholic types say?”
Krishna interjected, “Hindus say it too sometimes.”
Francis added, “You know what clinical psychologists say, “Jews are born guilty and Catholics go to school to learn it!” The crowd let out a big laugh, including their leader Karma.
Karma thought about the meaning of his name—the positive and negative impact of our behavior from present or past lives upon us right now. I guess we Buddhists have inter-generational guilt!
“Maybe it would be best if I knock on the door and explain just why we are here,” Karma offered.
“Sounds good to me,” Francis responded.
Krishna rapped on the old door, clean but much in need of paint, which corresponded to the house number they had been given. They waited expectantly but nothing happened. Krishna rapped a little louder and the group became a little more silent. Again, there was no response from within. David Gold muttering a mea culpa, walked over to a window and peered in. He pulled back in alarm and went to the front door and began pushing on it as he explained that there was someone lying on the floor in there.
Remarkably, to the mind of most Westerners, the front door was unlocked. David started to step in, and reflexively reached for his gun that was not there. He called out “Anybody home?” and listened for the sound of movement, running, slamming doors, opening windows, but heard nothing. A simple wooden frame couch stood in the middle of the room with a woman, perhaps in her sixties, lying on the floor face up in front of it.
“One of you Doc’s better get over here. This woman looks very sick. Krishna’s experience in emergency and family medicine ignited him instantly. He knelt on the floor next to the semi-conscious woman, taking her pulse and looking into her eyes, which he had to examine by opening her eyelids with his fingers.
Her pulse is weak and thready; we better get her to a hospital at once. She is slipping into a coma.
Karma spoke, “There is a clinic not far from here. It will serve us well even though it may seem small in comparison to what Westerners are used to. The quickest thing we can do is carry her there, since we have no vehicle, and by the time one gets here we would have wasted many precious moments.”
Krishna and Flo checked the patient, to the best of their ability, for broken bones or bleeding and could find nothing that would totally rule out moving this ailing woman. They devised a stretcher of sorts from bed coverings and linens and gently placed the woman on it. She could not have been much more than one hundred pounds, and with six people carrying her on the makeshift conveyance, they were able to take her the three blocks to the clinic.
The clinic looked like little more than a storefront “Doc in the Box” type of dispensary. Beyond the waiting room, however, were about a dozen beds, most of which were occupied by people with IVs dripping into them.
A Western trained Tibetan physician ran some lab tests on the mildly restless woman and told the group that she most probably had been poisoned. His equipment was not sophisticated enough to do a toxin screening and find out exactly what drug was used. In Tibet, he continued, there were so many herbal preparations that he was not sure which one it may have been, if indeed it was herbal and not a Western drug. Tibetan medicine is far from dangerous, far less than Western drugs. However, medicinal herbs can also be abused.
He pointed out that the Chinese herb Ma Huang, often referred to as Ephedra by Westerners, is an herb meant to be used in combination with other herbs and in a small quantity. He said that this was a very effective treatment for respiratory situations and has been used by millions of people throughout the world for centuries.
“Westerners,” the Tibetan continued, “think that if a little is good, then more is better. They began taking ephedra in large quantities, for other purposes, and without other herbs in a formula to balance it. Thus, they got in trouble and this caused sickness and death for some. It wound up on the lips of Barbara Walters on the 20/20 show,” he exclaimed. “I saw it when I was a medical resident in Boston.”
Francis silently nodded his head in assent. There was so much misunderstanding about Asian medicine in the United States.
Flo got right to the point, “Do you have a treatment plan in mind, Doctor?”
The young man responded, “Watchful waiting and re-hydration via IV. I will also have some lab studies done at the large hospital in Lhasa and see if we can come up with whatever this toxin may be.”
“If you can come up with it?” questioned Krishna. “Won’t that be fairly easy? You seem hesitant.”
“With all the medicines, legal and illegal, floating around, we may not be able to figure it out entirely. Certainly, we will do our very best.”
“Shouldn’t we move her to a larger hospital?” Mani questioned.
“You may certainly do whatever you wish,” the Doctor responded, “however, I would not suggest it. This lady is semi-conscious and near her home. We can keep her well cared for here and I feel that the trip may be not only stressful physically, but also her distance from her neighborhood might stress her spiritually or psychologically, whichever concept you prefer.”
A gentle voice, which had not been heard from before and a nurse at the clinic, entered into the conversation. “I know this woman. She is Tar-chin and lives on the next road over from me. She is a lovely quiet woman who seems a bit mysterious to her neighbors, but one whom we all hold in some esteem. I will personally do everything I can to see that she is taken care of and I know the Doctor will give her the very best attention as well.”
Dave offered a plan of action. “If we all agree, how about we leave Tar-chin here for now and go back to her home and see what we can find?”
Or not find, Francis thought to himself.