We took an early dinner together after which Mr. Kadam and Kishan retired to their rooms. Having nothing better to do, I went to mine also. The monks brought me some orange blossom tea. It was an effective soporific, and I soon drifted off to sleep, but I dreamed fitfully of Ren again. In my dream, he was becoming desperate.
This time Ren was even more fiercely protective of me and demanded that I leave him immediately. He kept saying that Lokesh was getting closer, and he needed me to be as far away from him as possible. The dreams felt real, and I woke up crying. There was nothing I could do. I tried to comfort myself with Durga’s promise to watch over him.
Kishan joined me at the breakfast buffet the next morning. I was already at the end of the line spooning some yogurt into a bowl when Mr. Kadam entered, stepped behind me, and asked me how I slept.
I fibbed and said I slept well, but he studied the dark circles under my eyes and patted my hand knowingly. Guiltily, I turned away from Mr. Kadam’s perusal and waited for the monk in front of me as he finished putting fruit onto his plate.
The monk’s hand shook as he lifted a small piece of slippery mango from the bowl. He dropped it onto his plate with a splat and began the slow process of digging for another piece. Without looking at us, the old monk spoke, “I understand you wish to visit with me.”
Mr. Kadam immediately clasped his hands together, bowed, and said, “Namaste, wise one.”
My hand froze in midair—yogurt spoon and all—and I slowly turned to look into the smiling face of the Ocean Teacher.
16
The Ocean Teacher
The old monk grinned at me while I stared open-mouthed. Fortunately, Mr. Kadam came to my rescue and gently guided me to a table.
Kishan was already eating, not caring that I had caused a scene.Figures. The tigers only think of two things—food and girls. Usually in that order.
Mr. Kadam set my bowl down and pulled out a chair for me. I sat and stirred my yogurt while surreptitiously glancing at the wizened old man. He was happily humming as he continued to fill his plate one small item at a time. When he was finished, he sat down across from me and smiled as he dug into his eggs.
Mr. Kadam ate quietly. Kishan returned to the buffet and filled his plate again. I kept silent and sipped my juice. I was too nervous to eat and had no idea if it was proper to talk or ask questions, so I just followed Mr. Kadam’s lead.
Long finished with our meal, we watched the Ocean Teacher eat, as he slowly took one bite at a time and chewed methodically. Finally finished, he carefully wiped his mouth and said, “You know, my favorite memories of my mother are winding the threads for her weaving, assisting her in tending the sheep, and helping her stir the breakfast porridge. I always think of my mother when I eat breakfast.”
Mr. Kadam sagely nodded. Kishan grunted. The Ocean Teacher looked at me and grinned.
Hoping it was okay to speak, I asked, “Did you grow up on a farm then? I thought Lamas were born to be Lamas.”
He cocked his head at me and happily answered, “Yes, is the answer to both questions. My parents were poor farmers who grew enough food to sustain themselves and sell a bit at market. My mother was a weaver who could make beautiful cloth. My parents named me Jigme Karpo. They didn’t know who I was at the time. I had to be found.”
“You had to be found? Found by whom?”
“The regent is always searching for reincarnations of former Lamas. He usually has a vision showing him where to find the new incarnation of a certain person and sends out a search party. In my case, they knew to look for a farmhouse resting on a hill with a tall, climbing rosebush growing next to our water well.
“After asking around, they found my home and knew it was the right place. Items from previous Lamas were brought in and shown to me. I picked up a book that belonged to the previous Ocean Teacher. The search party felt confident then that I was the reincarnation of that past Lama. At that time, I was two years old.”
“What happened to you then?”
Mr. Kadam interrupted and patted my hand, “I am curious as well, Miss Kelsey, but perhaps he has only a short time to spend with us, and we should focus on other matters.”
“Right, sorry. I let my curiosity carry me away.”
The Ocean Teacher leaned forward and thanked the monks who cleared the table. “I can spare a few minutes to answer your question, young lady. To sum it up, I was taken from my family and began my training with a kind old monk. My mother wove the material for my first maroon robe.
“I began training as a novice monk and had my head shaved. My name was changed, and I received a wonderful education in all subjects including art, medicine, culture, and philosophy. All of these experiences fashioned me into the man sitting before you. Did that answer your question, or did my explanation generate several more questions?”
I laughed. “It generated several more.”
“Good!” He smiled. “A mind with questions is a mind open to understanding.”
“Your childhood and background are so different from mine.”
“I imagine yours is just as interesting.”
“What do you do here?”