'As for me...' Ez Checks In from DSC #3

I couldn't decide on a form of salutation, so I suppose this will have to do as an acknowledgment on my part that I thought about it -- but really just couldn't come up with anything that encapsulated what I wanted to encapsulate.

In any case, if that wasn't satisfactory then how about just a simple "Hey!"

The necessities needing to be dealt with first as I was in need of buying several items, namely
'War & Peace', a companion to 'War & Peace', and an Ali G dvd. The essentials of life, no?

There is going to be a Tolstoy/Kafka class offered next term and you have to have read 'War & Peace' before the term starts so I have just started today and en challah I will be done by the start of Term 2. If the first sixty pages are anything to judge by, I will really enjoy the next 1000+. Tolstoy has already managed to weave together numerous characters, places, ideas, trains of thought without sacrificing the larger fabric of the novel.

Anyway perhaps it is time to finish that "As for me..." that I finished my last email with or, as you put it Mom, "the finding of my navel at Deep Springs".

I'm not sure that I have found my navel here because finding your navel here is not the same as most places. It is full of intricacies and nuances that I'm not sure I can express, let alone fully express. In fact, looking back retrospectively it seems that each week only brings me seemingly insignificant amounts closer to having even a basic understanding of the fabric at work here.

You are, of course, catching me right after possibly the most expressive form of the tensions that flow underneath our simple existence at Deep Springs -- the infamous student body (SB) meeting. It is here where the hydra's seemingly endless stream of heads rear themselves in some of the most beautiful, as well as conflicting, forms of truth. The student body fights back and forth, for hours at a time, over relatively innocuous legislation -- finding underneath the harmless veneer of legislation countless conflicts and problems that one can't help but feel are simply symptomatic of humanity itself.

I think perhaps its time I go to bed -- I'll finish tomorrow -- before my ramblings become entirely unintelligible.

However, like a recently disturbed bowl of miso soup, I have to say (before the miso settles to a more distinct and manageable state of confusion) that these ramblings will probably only become more unintelligible before (or rather if) they get slightly more comprehensible. There is a lot at play here and I'm not sure yet that I understand the pieces, or the board, or even the rules for that matter -- anyway as I said, perhaps it is time to go to bed. Hopefully a little bit of 'War & Peace' will settle my broth.

Until tomorrow....

Okay, great! It is no longer Friday night and I'm returning to this email on Monday mid-afternoon. As you can see (and I can as well), my state of mind that night was ... something. I'm not sure exactly what that something entails, but I think it is good to have those 'something' moments -- in fact that 'something' is the mindset I usually find myself in after most SB meetings.

It really is as if the politics and self-governance of the student body lay dormant for the week and then on Friday nights rear their head for all of us to awe at it. Often a combination of frustration, happiness, zeal, camaraderie, and more frustration. Trying to grasp exactly what it is that is going on, what needs to be done, and what your role in all of it is confusing to say the least -- but it is also in a odd way inspiring. I think I'll leave it at that because at this point I really can't elucidate the process any more.

However, in spite of all of that confusion there still is no place I'd rather be, and I am thrilled to be here. The majority of days go by without this degree of internal conflict and as with any community we have begun to develop our own rhythm and idiosyncrasies. There are always things to be done and often people doing them, although equally as often people not doing them.

Summer Seminar continues to be fascinating and we have just come off the back of a week on Rousseau and his 'Discourse on Inequality' and 'The Book of Job', and the week before that we got into political economy reading Carl Schmitt and his 'Nomos of the Earth', Karl Polanyi's 'The Great Transformation', Garett Hardin's 'The Tragedy of the Common', Adam Smith's 'Wealth of Nations', and other good stuff like that. All of it very interesting as we had into our last couple of weeks of the seminar.

It was nice to hear from both of you! Dad, despite your lack of the 's' and the 'w' on the keyboard, it was fun to hear you sort of ramble (perhaps more fun because of it?) Always good to hear that you are in the garden battling the forces of nature, specifically your dearest of enemies -- the evergreen boulder. Perhaps there is some darker and more sinister psychology at work regarding your undying fascination with the movement and manipulation of these boulders -- but I won't even begin to explore them.

Its good to know that all of this is happening to the backdrop of my free flowin' tunes -- perhaps two more won't hurt? (specifically with Miss Leah Loo in mind): Can't Get it Right Today - Joe Purdy and Sunshine - Matt Costa.

Mom, I think I sort of addressed your thoughts on finding my navel here at DS -- all I can say is that I'm working on it. It sounds like Josh is really being helpful to you and I'm glad that you, him, and Kishore are making quite the triumvirate. I'm sure he is elated at being able to fly from one side of town to the other on his new motorcycle -- after all it is the hip thing to do, isn't it (the flying)? Thanks for the lovely musings on Hypatia, balance, memories, and time and space. The poem was also lovely!

Anyway, I'm off to get some work done (although in all probability it will descend quickly and unrelentingly into an extended nap). Give my love to Josh and Leah!

Lots of love, Ez

Rock Gardens in the Backyard

Well, I"ve just gotten my w/end exercise. Not ultimate frisbee yet over at St. Xavier's w/ a much younger crowd, but still digging out my karma in my own backyard.

I put in nearly two hours yesterday and another two this morning moving soil, a bit Sisyphean, of course, like so many of life's efforts, but it feels good to reveal the under-land depth of these beautiful boulders, plus the physicalness of the work, as opposed to sitting at a desk composing literary emails, feels robust and healthy-minded when I've got the time to be home.

Plus (another Jewish reason to justify a simple act of well-being...), there is beauty being revealed and created, mefeels. Slowly the rocks show themselves, with their curves, colors and creative potential.

Then, when I add the succulents or low bamboo around their shapes, there is a visible contrast that appeals to the mind and our love of beauty.

So, the act of moving a shovel seems to offer a Platonic plateau of being that lifts me from my Sunday torpor into the elevated realms of creation.

Not bad, when reflected upon...

As I sit here at the iMac, I am also enjoying trundling through the collection of e-music Ez left me on iTunes. Ever trying organize things even as I can be the less organized of souls.

Swinging from the need to find categories (blame Aristotle...) in which to arrange my life, thoughts, papers, photos, music et al to letting it all just float by in the swirl of life's ambiguities and charms, like the clouds over Shivapuri's ridge.

I guess that would be Pythagoras, in a way. The sound of the universe.

Or, Apollo, the god of such ethereal gifts to we mortals.

Music is another of life's gifts.

Tolstoy on the Great Passage

LEO TOLSTOY 1828 – 1910

‘We all reveal ... our manifestations ... This manifestation is over ... That's all’

Tolstoy left his estate, aged 82, to begin a new life as a peasant. Reaching the small town of Astapovo he contracted pneumonia, and died a few days later in the stationmaster’s house. According to the stationmaster, his last words were: ‘But the peasants … how do the peasants die?’

His friend Vladimir Chertkov preferred to remember something from the night before. 'He was lying on his back, breathing heavily … all of a sudden - as if arguing with himself - broke out in a loud voice:

"We all reveal ... our manifestations ... This manifestation is over ... That's all".'

Home is our children...

Life is a lot to manage, at times, and we are all tested along the way, particularly in our primary relationships. Marriage is a great gift but a bit of a maze, as well, at times as we try to fill our own lives and passions while caring for the person who shares the journey and life with us.

I know how much Shakun and I struggle, at times, to find that balance and keep our marriage real and honest while, at the same time, challenging each other and not losing the cord that connects us. We are both so thankful that we have our three children to keep us bound together in mutual adoration and affection of these holy creatures...

Ez, we know is now gone on the other side of the earth's shadow up into the High Sierras. We're so happy for him as it's what he wanted, this form of isolation and intense community. He'd been reading Thoreau at NMH his Junior year and wanted the challenge of finding out some simple, hard truths for himself at college.

Plus, he is a natural for the intense leadership responsibilities that DSC offers and depends upon. He'll have plenty of time to read Plato, Locke and Tolkien while doing his daily chores, learning how to herd cattle and help manage the college. He is definitely following his own drummer in this life and we expect he will meander for a few years ahead in finding his way and purpose in life.

After two years of DSC, Ez may head to one of the East Coast universities to complete his education (ala Obama...) and become fully bicoastal, or balance his new desert world with East Coast urbanity. No doubt, Ez already has a beautiful soul, these years are simply to find his meaning, settle some youthful questions and create his independence.

In that regard, Ez and Josh are quite different. Josh is so happy to be here w/ us in the family home for the summer, watching 'Bambi' on his computer w/ Leah, helping Shakun with her website design, working in a local Tamang NGO on ethnic rights, building an innovative, organic greenhouse in the backyard, buying a new motorcycle and hanging out with his childhood friends here in Kathmandu.

Josh is totally loyal to Nepal and doesn't even want to hear me talk of spending a few years in the States. He's his mother's son and devoted to her, her causes and the Nepali side of his life. Although going back to Georgetown at the end of August, he hasn't really settled in the US in a deep way. He enjoys his studies on South Asia politics and governance, but his heart is still fully in the Himalaya and our home.

For now, Josh says that he is coming 'home' to Nepal to start up his own businesses when he graduates (after spending a Junior year at SOAS in London to stretch his wings and watch football games...). Josh's good and kind heart is right here, near us and on our land.

As for Leah, she is in love with her new kitten, Coaby, who sleeps with her and Leah protects from the dogs, especially, Sumi, in the yard. Her summer camp is over, so she has more time at home with Gita and Laxmi, her two 'didis' and dear, older sister friends. Like Josh, Leah, too, is a real homebody. She wants us to buy a beach house in America (ala Hannah Montana...), but still insists that we never sell this home, the only home she has ever had.

Funny, this sense of home that envelopes us as we're busy doing other things...

Funny, rich, satisfying and profoundly fulfilling...

'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!'.