Journey to Buddha's Birthplace

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His frail body crouched over the handle bars and mirrored the rickety frame of the bicycle he pedalled, transporting me to the next town. He grunted and struggled as he climbed a small bridge over a river stream. I laughed at my silliness in choosing him as my pedicab rickshaw driver. Earlier,amidst a group of drivers vying for my business, he had called out the lowest price and waved me over to his rickshaw and I obliged. In my confusion from being swarmed by these men, I didn't realize that he was an old man. He struggled and grunted as we started up a slight incline over a small bridge. His grunts became louder and I wondered if I should get off and walk alongside the bike for the time being. But this may offend him, so I stayed on, praying that we would make it before he'd suffer a heartattack or stroke. Pedicab after pedicab passed us. The amused drivers and the passengers shot me a mocked sympathetic look and let out a giggle. A smug smile stretched across my face as I thought to myself, "At least I have a lovely tour of the place!"

Once we got into town, I transferred onto another dilapidated bus which was higher than most and I had to struggle to get on since I had a skirt on. Finally, I jumped on successfully after gripping to the side of of the bus and pulling myself up, since no one offered to help.

For the next 2 hours, the bus rambled along a long road, stopping to pick up and drop off passengers in the nearby villages. There was one passenger I will never forget. It was a young girl about 11 years of age who carried a large almost in humane burden. (I will speak about this young girl in the following journal.)

I arrived 2 hours later in Lumbini. The purpose of my jaunt here is to visit the birthplace of Buddha. I stepped off the hot bus into the dusty road and walked over to the front gates. The rickshaw drivers once again swarmed me and vyed for my business. Two monks stood close to me and were hopping into a rickshaw. "Where are you going?" said one of them. I told him that I wanted to see the place where Budda was born. He hopped off the rickshaw, waved me over and said "Come, we will walk!" We entered through the gates and he explained to me that it would only be a 15 minute walk and the rickshaw drivers were charging me double what he pays. For the next hour, the two monks, tenzin and kunga, took me on a tour of the area.

We stood in front of the pond that Maya Devi, Buddha's mother was bathing in, just before she gave birth. It was now in it's reconstructed state, surrounded by stone bricks next to a tree. We then walked to an Ashokan pillar, which the great hindu king Ashoka had erected during a visit and into a building where the exact location of Buddas birth was now encased in glass.

Gotama Buddha was born in Lumbini. His mother, Maya Devi was bathing in a pond, which I had seen in it's original location but had a few stones built around it.  A few minutes later, she felt labor pains and walked a few yards away from the pond, giving birth to Buddha under a tree.

The three of us walked in silence and I was sad that I wouldn't be able to visit their monastery at the other end of the park. I had to head back to the bus stop and get back to Sunauli in order to catch my evening bus to Pokhara. I was cursing myself for buying my ticket in advance which now caused me to end my personal tour early.

After an hour of waiting in the hot sun by the side of the road, my bus finally arrived. However, it was packed full, there were people standing on the steps that led into the bus and I managed to squeeze myself to the first step. That was as far as I went. I wasn't about to wait another hour for the next bus which would cause me to miss my night bus in Sunauli. So I did what I could. I held on to the railing on my side and clung for dear life as the bus moved ahead. My skirt flailed in the wind as I clung onto the bus railing with all my might. "Oh God, I'm going to die if the bus swerves a bit harder because I'll fly out of this bus," I thought to myself and gripped even harder. Luckily the ticket taker, was was gripping onto the bars outside of the bus and had one leg on the step which buffered me only a bit. A man inside the bus instructed me to hold on to a railing at the top of the doorway into the bus. It was more secure and I could get a better grip. About 15 minutes later, passengers got off and I was able to find a seat.

Needless to say, I got Sunauli and my bus was cancelled since there weren't enough passengers. But, during my journey back, I met a really nice guy, named Bidur, my new friend, from Kathmandu. I promised to meet up with him and his friend once I arrive in Kathmandu and they in turn promised to show me around.