'Even the Wisest Can't Tell...' Update #2 from Ez of the Desert

Hey family!

Well, of all people to tell you that I had sent an email I probably would have guessed Leah last -- but I'm glad that your race up to the top of the hilltop in Dandeldhura was greeted by my email.

'Numina' is indeed an apt word to describe my relation to the desert, but it's an enjoyable numina. You, however, are not the only one who hasn't spent time in the desert -- I was thinking the other day that the desert is one of the few environments that 'Lord of the Rings' hardly references as well. Of course Tolkein's Euro-centric vision can be excused for not adding literary splendor to the catalog of novels that have commented on the desert.

Also, as nice a picture it is to imagine me sitting on a rock in my "open lanscape just indulging the sense of space and the curiosity of time out there in the High Sierra" it probably doesn't happen as often as I would like (I probably even imagine myself doing the same on the odd occasion) -- Deep Springs is not monastery, at least not in the typical sense of the word.

Maybe an educational monastery, but education (at least by the Western Canon of thought) is not particularly solemn, introspective, or withdrawn, but based on activity, discussion, and liveliness. A hive of activity would be more descriptive of it, although certainly at moments and in different aspects it is monastic. Certainly, I think there is a certain collective desire that it would be more monastic on the part of the student body, yet too often we are pulled away by our cultural inclinations -- the hegemony of the West.

Even so this isn't so much a criticism of the students, but more simply the reality of the situation. It probably would be more monastic if there were more time, but between trying to "eradicate the line between intellectuals and laborers," as well as simply 'doing', we end up looking more like a Marxist commune than a remote monastery tucked away in the folds of the desert.

Nonetheless, on my more permitting days I am able to find time to simply sit on a rock, or in my room, or at the upper reservoir, or the Time Shack (a record room in the basement of the main building), and can simply ruminate. But, as I said, those are the more permitting days and even then it seems the time to reflect is fleeting. However, I certainly have been able to 'sit on a rock' more time than I ever did at NMH (or probably any time before that, come to think of it). So although I hope to find more time I certainly cannot complain as to the current levels of ruminating.

As you noted, it was indeed my first night at Deep Springs -- but not exactly at the college and probably just about toeing the line between Deep Springs Valley and the neighboring Eureka Valley -- when the second year students took us up a nearby ridge where we laid down our sleeping mats and bags to have our first SB (student body) meeting. Then they announced they were leaving, and off they left. So the sixteen of us first year students, just introduced to each other, sat huddled around the fire, under the most amazing sky splattered with stars (or rather stars splattered with sky) and got to know each other.

Its a nice class, a good mix of kids, but I guess particularly notable for its amiability in comparison to DS classes historically (or so they say...). We woke up in the morning, cooked ourselves bacon, eggs, and a whole lot of bacon grease in between, then climbed the several hundred feet left to the top of Chocolate Mountain, before we continued onward with the three hour or so hike back to campus.

I was very sad to hear from you about Tiger, if Tara did indeed push Tiger over it seems a strange, sadistic power is at play -- even in nature. Odd, and frightening that an animal would be capable of such an action -- all the more considering we consider them not to have 'consciences'.

It is also slightly concerning to hear another untruth told to Leah over the disappearance over yet another childhood pet, but what am I to do? At some point or another Leah will have to face these realities and I think we maybe try to protect her too much. Then again, maybe she is too young to know these sadistic traits of the world; however I think it is worth noting the exposure Leah has received via her education in film.

There is certainly a lack of continuity between her 'reel' life education and 'real' life -- but maybe I'm over analyzing. Regardless, I look forward to meeting our newest addition to the family (whether it is Coco or otherwise) when I return to our Himalayan kingdom (whenever that is).

It sounds like both Leah and Josh are doing well, I think of you guys often and of course fondly. I miss you guys, but don't worry I'm not homesick.

It sounds, too, like Dad you are enjoying your Federalism Dialogues, and your newfound (or should I say 'refound') power. I have no doubt that you can handle Larry's absence, and I am sure that people will appreciate your presence. After all, if you don't mind reminding them, before you joined the UN conglomerate you probably had more leadership experience than most of them.

It's just a matter of whether they give you the position to exert those influences -- although, I do think its a good thing you've been relegated to bit-part leader for the past couple of years, altho who knows maybe it's time for a return? Or maybe not? Who knows, "even the wisest cannot tell" (as Galadriel says).

And hopefully Sushila (Gita's daughter) does get the stewardess job, even if is against all odds. After all, 'against all odds' is kind of how I ended up where I am now at Deep Springs so I have faith in the power of "against all odds".

Interestingly enough I had a dream the other day I ran into Gita, Tek, and Anita at a tea shop in Kathmandu -- an odd experience (in a dream no less), but it was nice to see them.

Now I just need an update from you Mumski, I appreciated your soulful reminders of your existence from across the Orient to my little oasis here in California, but give me some meat to work with. ;) I like hearing what you are you up to in addition to forwarded power points of your political and civil endeavors...

As for me...

That is for another email, hopefully within the next couple of days, time permitting (for "even the wisest cannot tell") and besides if you read between the lines of this email I'm sure you'll be able to tell I'm doing well. Vignettes and other things to come next email ;)

Love, Ezi

Shaku's Extended Haiku after Visiting Lisa...

Yesterday, Pia, Leah and I went to visit our friend, Lisa, who has returned to Nepal with her Nepali husband, Ravi, after ten years in the States. Lisa is very ill with a brain cancer that was diagnosed less than a year ago. Her choice was not unfortunately to live or die... but she made the choice to spend her last months (years...) in Nepal where she had lived some of her best years, when our sons were young friends.

Now, however, her vehicle staggers her mind with occasional memory of sharp illusions, like a passing comet, leaving a trail of wonder in the lives of those who watch her slip slowly into the unknown.

At one moment while Pia was arranging the colored sun daisies, emanating the dreams of illusive joy besides her bed, and I was gently massaging her fragile hands, she implored, "I hope someone could help me how to die. I am not ready to leave my family and the community. I hope I had stayed with the community."

Her words welled tears in my eyes and I had no truth to offer her to counter the truth she offered me. I said "Lisa, you are not ready and none of us are ready to let you go."

Life and death happens while we are busy making other plans (my homage to the magnanimous soul of John Lennon).

After the visit, an overstretched haiku overcame my being and left me wondering in calm repose.


Not Ready

Not ready to leave she says
But
I am leaving

I fear dying without the living
While
They fear to live without the dying

Unknown knowing
Where
Is the labyrinth, where the knowing meets the unknown

Life is the act of death
And
Death is a memory of love and wonder.

Peaches, Avocados and Bergman

shaku and i walked in at 8 pm friday night from work. leah was home w/ tek and laxmi. when we're late, they care for her as she watches her favorite TV shows (cartoons or animal planet) while josh is coming in from thamel w/ a couple buddies to play risk at home later tonight.

i grabbed a small plum sized green peach from the three large containers in the kitchen as i walked upstairs. i'd asked laxmi and gita to pick them off the trees today, as i noticed that some were already over-ripe from the rains. in fact, laxmi just said there are many more on the top of the trees that she and gits cudn't reach -- so tek or i will have to get the ladder this w/end. kathmandu peaches are still, mostly, hard, unripe little fellas -- but the soft one i just took while passing upstairs was juicy, tender and almost sweet.

best, of course, is knowing that they come from saplings we've planted in the backyard over the years. these 15' peach trees are in the way back ('beyond beyond', as the buddhists say...). i forget exactly where they came from... many i bought w/ nick in the bishalnagar nursery years ago when he and gis were living near there. others came from that lovely indian peach farmer who was in k'du a decade ago selling us all on his nani tal peaches.

alas, however, nepali peaches haven't been our most tasty fruits -- even if they are the most prolific. we must have a few score kilo of peaches on 6-7 trees. there are buckets already downstairs, with more buckets to come if we harvest all that are out there, before the birds nibble away as they ripen on the brances.

yet i still dream of greek peaches as big as grapefruit with the sweet, sticky, salivating juice sliding off my lips as i bite into these luscious summertime treats. but, given our summer monsoon, the relatively lower elevation of kathmandu (relative, that is, to the latitude...), i doubt that these young fruit will have the chance to ripen to purrrfection the way they do in the drier climate of europe.

still love the one you're with! these are our own lichhavi lane peaches!! from these, gita and josh have already made a big bottle of peach jam that tastes delicious! now, gita's working on peach mash for peach juice. i just swirled a thick glass of the stuff that is rich in backyard joy if not quite as suave and sugary as the Real juices sold downtown. no doubt, we'll have a few more bottles of jame and juice in the days to come when gita finishes unveiling these green peaches.

in addition to the ripening peaches, some of our mangos have come inside as they got so big they were falling off the pint-sized trees. these are grafted mango trees so the they won't get 40' tall like the ones in the terai, but only get maybe 15-20', i hope. these small trees are only 4-5' now, but have begun to shed fruit already. there are about 5-8 mangos per tree and some 4-5 trees fruiting this year. all of these mangos are migrants from siraha in the terai seven years ago when my colleague, lilemani sharma, brought them from nurseries that save the children had initiated for the local farmers.

plus, in this year's best surprise, one of our avocado trees has 15-20 avocados hanging from various branches. only one of the trees is fruiting so far. last year it had two fruit, so we're getting ready for a deluge in the coming years when all five of the trees start hanging with those dark devilish green vessels.

the seeds or saplings originally came from california. a friend, david sowerwine, part-time inventor and agriculturist, who gave them to us some years ago, as well. i tried to grow a handful from avocado seeds that we'd brought from our honeymoon a few decades ago in bali, but those trees never fruited, so we switched to david's saplings, which promise bowls of guacamole and avocado sandwiches in the coming years!

ok, leah is chasing coady or coady is chasing leah, when she's not hanging coady by her ears in a curious cat yogic posture. coady is leah's newfound friend, an ex-street/field kitten that gita brought home a few weeks ago. now coady has worked her way into the house at night-times to sleep w/ leah (and me last night...). she's thin as a bean and quick as lightning flipping and fleeing around the room with rapid instincts and enigmatic movements. still, coady's quite friendly, in a cat-ish way, but w/o the humanizing eyes that puppies and dogs have, at times, so always a bit of an extra-terrestrial ET creature from my perspective...

time for dinner and to watch the 'smiles of a summer night', a bergman classic, they say. it's a swedish turn of 19th/20th century 'midsummer night's dream' story of love, illusions, sensuality and irony -- a comedy, of course, since it takes a bit of a distant look at we confusing and confounding humans.

as chancey gardener used to say, 'i like to watch!'.

Hello My Parents! Ez Checks in from DSC

Hello my parents!

Lovely to hear from you! I have indeed been checking my email every odd day so, don't worry I'll be in touch, but the real limiting constraint is time -- that is something else though, and I'm sure i'll get around to that. It sounds like you both are thick in the routine of life -- be wary, its dangerous that routine thing. Although it can be lovely as well! I have to say though, I was disappointed not to get a little update on our dearest, Miss Leah Loo! How are things goes with Regina? Summer school? Pussy cats?

Thus far, I've had a really wonderful time here at Deep Springs. I wake up at 7-8ish every day to prepare the BH for breakfast, then clean up after breakfast, usually just in time for class. Class starts at 9 and goes on till 12 and has been really great, we have (as you know) been reading Hobbes, Nietzche, Locke, and one Melville story yesterday (Benito Cerrino).

It has really been engaging material and thought provoking, we/I have probably interacted most so far with Hobbes, but Nietsche's Genealogy of Morals never strays far from mind -- I think in terms of going "full retard" (the Tropic Thunder quote about actors who go 'full retard' in Hollywood never win Oscars) he definitely take the cake. He takes the idea of self reinvention and the individual to a completely different level -- his ubermensch, his zathura is something that i'm still fully trying to understand and since we've moved onwards will definitely be something i have to revisit.

Back to my routine though, after class I head back to the BH get ready for lunch, clean after lunch, then head back to the dorm, try and get some work done, chat with whoever is around, take a nap, practice the guitar, take a nap, and then lately have been trying to make the walk 10 minutes from campus, at the foot of some hills so an encline of sorts, and take a dip at the upper resevoir (also the site of a sauna), do a couple of laps, and then walk over to a little knoll of rocks over looking the green oasis of our campus in the midst of the mind blowing beauty of a fragile, and emancipating desert landscape.

And the sky, oh the sky! during the day a fantastic blue, with a wonderful variety of clouds, and then just below the jagged outline of the mountain ranges all around, and then at night stars the like of which i have rarely seen.

Anyhow, I then head back for dinner at 6ish, and cleaning after dinner usually goes till 8ish, when we have our ritual soccer game.

Its a motley crew of whoever shows up, and its great because most of these guys have hardly played before, but its a great release for everybody, an opportunity to just play. be kids running around the football, leave Nietzsche and his ubermensch, leave Hobbes and his leviathan, and just enjoy.

For me its also nice to be maybe the only player with a significant history of playing, a nice change from gruelling through injuries, coaches, and NMH fitness regimes. its nice to be messi for once, haha even if i know i'm playing in the lowest tier of football because its not even about skill, just about playing. That usualy ends with the arrival of night at 9ish (we play shoeless) and then work till 12-1ish and prepapre for the next day.

Anyway there is of course more to tell, but not for the time being. Be well, you guys are in my mind daily, let me know how things are going, and all of the ins and outs of Kathmandu (well, not all -- be selective).

Love, Ezra

Love and Us

What is love?
Do we still wonder?
Do we still ask?
Do we still reflect?

What is given and what forsaken?
What held tight and what released?
What freed and what demanded?

When to go and when to stay?

Who are you and
What is us?

Democracy Dialogue in Dadeldhura District

I'm sitting on a hillside in remote Dadeldhura district, in the Far Western hills of Nepal. It's taken me a few decades to get here, but it's worth the wait...

My Save the Children work never brought me here, even though it's only a four hour drive from Dangadhi in the terai (the Nepali plains), where we worked for many years with the rural, agrarian Tharu communities. From the East-West highway, the road to Dadeldhura starts almost immediately up an astoundingly steep mountain with cliffs dropping off a few thousand feet below while we climbed up in our UN van on a relatively smooth road. After reaching the forested summit, the road glided into a series of remarkably beautiful valleys sweeping to west toward India, not that far away.

Now, a half hour down a winding dirt road below the less attractive concrete and tin Dadeldhura town, I'm in one of those stunning valleys, the hillsides covered with lanky pine trees above rolling meadows tumbling gently to a river strewn gorge below. There is a quiet beauty here so far from the congested, urbane yet painfully polluted city life of Kathmandu. Although I know better, it's easy to project an innocence on these hillside communities. But, as we learn, human life is never quite that innocent and the daily realities of a Nepali villager, almost anywhere in the nation, is often one of toil, limitations and crippling isolation.

Once again, as I've been doing regularly this year, I've come out for the field-based constitutional dialogues that we (UNDP) have been sponsoring around the country since last year. These are programs that my colleagues and I have designed to bring the work of the Constituent Assembly (CA) out to the villagers of the country, as well bring the villagers recommendations and submissions back to the leaders of the CA constitution-drafting process.

As I often say, "Nepali is the biggest small country in the world", given it stretches over the foothills of the Himalaya, so the distances are often much greater than they appear on maps. The other day it took us 12 hours to drive from Surkhet, the proposed capital of the proposed Karnali province to Dadeldhura, part of the proposed Khaptad province. Of course, we had a slight delay, typical to driving in Nepal, when we had to wait at a river, since the 200 m. bridge hadn't been completed in the two years they'd been working on it. The trucks raced through the knee-high waters without a second thought, but the smaller vans waited reluctantly, hoping that the waters would recede, until the dark clouds gathered and then we, too, raced through the waters with only our hopes and Shyam's good driving to see us across.

Today is our second day in the ridgetop town of Dadeldhura. Our three day Federalism Dialogue led by my friends and colleagues, Professors Krishna Khanal and Krishna Hachhethu, continues with 70 selected provincial civil society and political party leaders. But, for a change, I've stepped away to attend a Democracy Dialogue ("Loktantric Sambad") taking place on this rustic hillside by a small Durga mandir (temple) near a Dalit village full of ochre and white homes with grey slate roofs. This is the magical image of Nepal, lush green forested hills with the earth tones of the simple villages above the rice fields below. The scenes that attracted me so powerfully when I first came to Nepal a few decades ago and still resonant, even after all these years.

Love, it seems, as the poets over centuries have tried to warn us, is both blind and timeless...

The villagers are sitting around the small temple shrine as the facilitator begins to explain the purpose of this Democracy Dialogue. He lifts up the colorful, over-sized flipcharts which provide visual explanations of various components of the new constitution framework for all to see. He explains to the audience that this constitution is meant to be drafted with the support and input of all Nepalis, not just a small circle of 'neta-haru' (leaders) like the past constitutions in Nepal's short modern history. He tells the attentive villagers that the members of the Constituent Assembly, who they elected in 2008, want to hear from the people of Nepal while preparing this new constitution.

The villagers stir uneasily. They are unsure of the purpose of this gathering and politics is still an uncertain and, at times, dangerous activity in Nepal. The civil conflict between the government and the Maoists lasted from 1996 to 2006 spreading fear and loathing across the country. Although Dadeldhura was not at the epicenter of the conflict, every district and VDC was affected with youth being drafted into the war and people threatened by both the Maoists and the security forces as they were caught in between. Although a Comprehensive Peace Accord was signed in 2006 between the Maoists and Government and CA elections were held in 2008, real democracy and freedom of expression take much longer to establish the trust necessary to ensure firm roots.

Yet the young facilitators are well-trained, soft-spoken and concentrated. They gently coax and encourage the villagers to express their thoughts on the new constitution and their lives out here in the village. The facilitators, both men and women, note that this outreach initiative is supported by the UN, international donors, the government, the CA, local NGOs and some of their community leaders are here among them. Slowly, voices begin to speak and expressions heard.

The women dressed in the bright colors for which the Hindu world is famous are sitted together on one side of the hillock while the men in t-shirts or Nepali vests and the occasional Nepali topi (cap) sit in front of the facilitator. They are all Dalits (ex-untouchables, the lower rungs of the traditional caste system) from the nearby village.

Ironically, my friend and colleague, Tek Tamata, who I first hired to be the Program Manager for the UNDP project supporing the National Human Rights Commission and is now a Program Officer in the UNDP Country Office, comes from a village nearby. While chatting, one of his relatives points out that the home below us is his mother's maiti (parent's original home). Some of the people attending the Democracy Dialogue are his close relatives.

The facilitator takes the community through the flipchart page on the rights and duties of the citizen explaining what has been described in the CA committe reports. Afterwards one man speaks up, "Sir, may I tell you that we Dalits have been good and loyal citizens of the Nepali state for decades. What I want to know is when will the other castes in the country who have all the power learn about their duties and responsibilities to us, as well."

With no subtlety this village man is reminding the facilitators that Nepal's Dalits have never in the past been given equal opportunities under the Nepali Hindu state because of the long-standing caste discrimination against them. In a respectful tone, but firm words he is asking that the new constitution do more than the other previous constitutions to provide Dalits the equal opportunities from which other dominant castes have always benefited.

Another woman, sitting a bit far away starts talking in loud voice until the facilitator takes notice of her. "When will we, the poor people of the country, ever get the equal services that other people receive in Nepal. You don't need to talk about electricity, we'll never see that here in our village -- but what about government health and education facilities? When will the leaders of the country remember us after they return to Kathmandu. They always come to see us during their elections, but then then forget us. When will they remember their promises and send these services out to us?"

Another rather distinguished looking gentleman dressed well, until I notice that his pants and shirt are stained with overuse and a lack of washing, stands up. He has glasses, a greying beard and a quiet demeanor. "We have heard the commitments made in earlier constitutions. There are always good words to assuage the Dalits that the State will no longer discriminate against us. We have heard those before, as well. But, now, this time, we want more specific actions in the new constitution. We want to be assured that Dalits will have their proportional representation in all the structures and institutions of the State. We can ask for that. Will the drafters of the constitution hear us? Will they make this commitment when they write the constitution?"

While these community members speak their minds, one of the facilitators is writing on the brown paper taped to the stucco wall of the shrine. He writes down the various recommendations that the villagers request. Each one noted in simple, but clear Nepali script for all to see. After four hours, when the Democracy Dialogue comes to a close, all the participants come up to sign the sheets w/ their signature or a thumb print for those who never learned to write.

I'm asked to speak at the end, as their foreign guest. I speak in my village Nepali, "I'm sorry my Nepali isn't great, but I don't speak Doteli, your local language and you don't speak English, my language. But isn't that like the constitution? If you don't know what is in the constitution, if you don't know the rights that you are granted in the constitution, if you don't know the content of the new constitution, it's like not speaking the same language -- you can't communicate. Someone else can take your rights to benefit themselves. You need to know the language of your constituion so your family and your community can benefit from it. You can't depend on someone else to protect your rights. Because democracy begins here, out in the villages. This is where the roots of democracy take place and grow. It takes time to create a democracy, but unless you learn what is in your new constitution, until you insist on what you want in the constitution, you won't have democracy in Nepal. This, too, is your right."

So, the village disperses. I take a last 360 degree look at the simple beauty of this Himalayan landscape, as an eagle flies by hugging the ridge, so far from the casually modern world in which I grew up in America, distant, too, from my daily life in the bustle, congestion and power of Kathmandu. There is a graciousness here, no doubt, a sense of humanity, where people know each other all too well -- but society is a complex terrain, anywhere in the world, here no less than on the streets of American suburbia, and in those worlds resources are rarely shared fairly, evenly or generously.

As constrained as Nepal is, in its history and geography, there are real opportunities out here in its antipodes, potential unrealized, people unchained and future possibilities.

I only hope that our constitutional dialogues pry open these latent hopes and aspirations a bit and long enough for them to dig deeper roots in their local communities, for the sake of the future democracy of Nepal.

Jai desh!

Cats, Dogs and Human Nature

I have a kitten sitting on my shoulder. Leah loves animals and is a single woman rescue agency (when her parents let her...). She adopted two kittens a couple weeks ago, but we think our older, wiser cat (who lives on the roof) took out one of the two kittens the other day, so Leah is even more protective of this skitterish little one (which could be why its sitting on my shoulder), even though she doesn't know the truth of the other cat's demise (she thinks Gita, our dearly beloved woman Friday, gave it to her daughter...).

I really don't know why the older cat needed to push Tiger, a really frail kitten Gita had found in fields near her home, off the roof. I guess we'll never really understand the dark side of animal-human nature. We can be so good and so wicked. As they say, 'No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!' Why creatures harm, murder even, is a slight mystery. I guess she felt that the baby kitten, weak as she was, could be a rival for her roof-top supremacy. I don't know.

Which reminds me that the other day I had a long talk with some American University students about my work, life et al. They were asking about how the internet has changed my life in Nepal and I thought, of course, of '2001', the movie. The only awkward part was that only one of the twelve students had ever heard of Stanley Kubrick's 2001, one of the exquisite, poetic and magical movies of my generation. Well, I thought of ALL TIME, but these young Americans possibly dissuaded me of that... 'How', I thought, 'could they NOT have heard of '2001'??!!?"

Now, you may reasonably ask, "Why did you think of '2001' when they asked about the internet and Nepal." Fair question!

But, the contrast of technology and social change cannot BUT bring up the vision of our ape-like ancestors discovering the power of a bone to be used as an instrument of power, brutality and murder, stepping into a 'higher' stage of 'intelligence' on the great chain of being, offering us the ability to further dominant our surroundings, overwhelm our competitors (take that Neanderthals!). So, when asked about technology and social change, that incredible moment when the beast launches its bone weapon in the air and it glides effortlessly into the 21st C. as a space station rotating above the Earth is forever part of my youthful imagination.

Yet youth changes and these kidz had no such memory or the joy of that frozen film image dancing in their thoughts on the complexity and violence of social change and human evolution.

So, I wonder again, why Tara eliminated baby Lion by knocking her off the roof last week, as Gita surmises. Jealousy, competition, malevolence, cruelty, a bad day at the office or simply the wicked ways of creatures large and small?

In my thoughts I contrast that image with the four dogs in our yard, Lapsi, Sumi, Acorn-Chasey (aka 'Kali') and Puppy (Kali's offspring who was supposed to go to someone but has remained with us for months w/ still the appelation of an infant...).

Lapsi is the oldest mother of the group, nearly 16 years and my favorite, a wolf-like creature with an extraordinary amount of tenderness and affection while, in her youth, a true guard dog of tremendous agility and loyalty. But now, alas, Lapsi is in her dotterage. She has a hard time standing or running anymore. She's like a beloved grandmother offering her last blessings of her life with rummy eyes and a hallowed sadness about her.

Last night, I found Lapsi in Josh's downstairs room. Josh and Leah had brought her in through Josh's sliding glass doors when it started to rain and it would have been too difficult for Lapsi to make her way to the garage with the other dogs. Leah made her a bed with Josh's pillows and put a towel over her to keep her warm. Lapsi looked like a Russian babushka, with a shawl over her head, tender-eyed, full of grace.

So what are we creatures, murderous, tender, loving and jealous all in one. What madness G-d invented in our souls?

'Tyger, tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night;'

Which reminds me, I'm not done w/ cats... A month ago++, Gumbi, Leah's favorite Lhasa Apso/Shitzu lost her life trying to protect our yard from a leopard that, we later learned, leapt the wall and took away Gumbi, alas...

We heard the dogs, especially petite, combatitive Gumbi, barking furiously late that night, but didn't realize exactly why until we learned that Gumbi had disappeared a day later. It's not unusual for the bigger dogs, especially randy Kali, to wander about the neighborhood, but extremely unlikely and dangerous for little Gumbi. To be honest, I was more troubled by the fact that a person, a human being who should know morals and kindness, would have taken Leah's favorite lap dog, as opposed to the idea that a beast, a leopard, would have come out of the forest to feed and do what leopards do. For a couple of days, we just didn't know, until a few nights later, the leopard came back, trying to harm Puppy, when Shakun woke Tek, the guard, who went in the backyard with his torch and stick and saw the leopard in the yard trying to take Puppy away. As scared as Tek was, he scared the leopard away and the truth about Gumbi was revealed, that cats will be cats, no matter their size...

Alas, Gumbi's physical and spiritual departure was (and still is...) seriously traumatic. We mourn her still. To protect poor Puppy, who was scared mercilessly that night, we've also raised the back brick wall even though the 8,000' Shivapuri ridge will always remain in our backyard a few frisbee throws away...

where the wild things live...

One of Ez's Last Messages Before Going Beyond the Sierras...

From Past Ez to Future Dad....


'No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet...'

Regina Spektor: "No One's Laughing at G-d"



I'm not sure we're ever back from those parties...

Deep Springs Founder L.L. Nunn, 1923

"The desert has a deep personality; it has a voice. Great leaders in all ages have sought the desert and heard its voice. You can hear it if you listen, but you cannot hear it while in the midst of uproar and strife for material things. 'Gentlemen, for what came ye into the wilderness?' Not for conventional scholastic training; not for ranch life; not to become proficient in commercial or professional pursuits for personal gain. You came to prepare for a life of service, with the understanding that superior ability and generous purpose would be expected of you."

Deep Springs Founder L.L. Nunn, 1923