Mongolia’s Unprecedented Catastrophe: How You Can Help — Updated x2

Sorry for the radio silence. It’s been a bit biblical around the sett what with floods and all requirin full-on salvage crews, etc. All is well, just feel bad for the house owners who lost some precious memories. But there it is; in samsara, all must be lost, whether we like it or not. Good motivation to stay on the cushion, and act with lovin-kindness when we’re off it.

In any case, our personal disasters pale in comparison to what’s happenin in, say, Mongolia right now. Those poor guys are havin such a catastrophic winter, what they call a dzud. Worse even than what I reported before. The numbers outta there just get worse and worse, almost beyond comprehension, and there ain’t no relief numbers for them flashin on screen durin the Super Bowl.

Update II: I need to put this up front so everyone sees it. I’m in tears again seeing the report made by this brave and kindhearted Australian film crew from Sky News. It’s like watchin my own mother and sisters suffer. How to do more? Bless the int’l/local Red Cross for their selfless courage displayed here. Please let this move your heart, read the rest and see what you can do to help.

International aid agencies are now estimatin that up to 20 million domestic animals—half a Mongolia’s entire herd—may perish before there’s some let-up in the extreme cold and forage-coverin snow. Tens of thousands of Mongolians are at risk from starvation, illness, and rock-bottom poverty. Imagine for a moment you lived in Tosontsengel, in north-central Mongolia near Lake Huvsgul. This week, your average high temperature will be about -20F/-29C with nighttime lows down to -54F/-48C. See the forecast for yourself. Now imagine yourself living there as a nomadic herder, and how hard it would be to keep you and your family alive under those relentless conditions, much less the herd animals upon which your general livelihood depends. Some, they say, are watching helplessly as up to 50 of their cattle a night are freezin to death.

Piles of carcasses have been found where Mongolian livestock have frozen to death. (Source: Sky News)

Honestly, I’m cryin for these people as I type this. The nomadic Mongols are some of the toughest people on earth, but at a point like this, too much is just too much. In the previous post, the monk here described the almost-certain social fallout for Mongols after this winter’s over, and many will feel driven to the capital city as economic refugees.  It’s bad and gonna be real bad and we have to do something to help.

Harsh Mongolian winter landscape. Photo by the monk.

Now, this is a small blog, but luckily an excellent small charity has found us (see comments to last post). The Cambridge Mongolia Development Appeal (CAMDA) has been actively assisting Mongolia’s herders regain their livelihood and dignity since the last round a calamitous winters 10 years ago; it’s the only aid agency I’ve yet found that has bothered to put up a special appeal for the Mongolians this year. So I’m appealin to you: will you find it in your hearts, even as you may have helped our Haitian brothers and sisters, to donate whatever you can to help the Mongolian nomads through this tragic time? I feel confident that CAMDA and its partners (Society for the Protection of Animals Abroad—SPANA—eg) will be there not only to provide immediate relief, but for the long haul to help replenish herds and educate herders as they adjust to the post-Socialist times in ways to better prepare for future dzuds.

I’m now in direct contact with the main CAMDA folks and here’s a bit from the last email, lightly edited:

Our background since 2003 has been the establishment of grass-root projects that helps sustain herders in their various harsh environments. The 2000 dzuds, apart from killing some 10 million or more (30%) of the country’s animals, [decimated] between 500,000 and 750,000 horses. It was the equines [for which] we found the means to provide practical aid since their horses are invaluable for herding, socialising and so on. Their low state of health left them vulnerable to the numerous parasitic diseases endemic in Mongolia, and the mares were losing too many foals. A bi-annual programme of inoculations was put in hand, which greatly improved their health. You’ll find a report on this here.

“Another grass root project is for well refurbishment in the Gobi fringe regions, Dundgobi – Gurvansahikhan/Erdenedalai/Adaatsag/Delgertsogt/Saintsagaan and other soums. In total around 80 wells have been renovated or newly dug over the years.”

Update: CAMDA has just uploaded selected photos taken by their man in Ulaanbaatar, Batsaa, from the Middle Gobi Province (Dundgobi), one of the hardest-hit areas. To see all the photos he took, go here. Here’s an excerpt from Batsaa’s report, which accompanied the images:

Please find attached is the animal mortality figure as of February 8, 2010. As of 1st of February, the mortality was 1,712,259 and it has risen to 2,000,349 as of February 8, 2010. The difference within a week is 288,090 heads of livestock. While in Dundgobi, mortality was 212,401 as of Feb 1 and 241,220 as of Feb 8. The increase of mortality is 28,819 heads of livestock which is exactly 10 percent of total nationwide mortality during last week.”

Mongolian animal herds are beings decimated at the rate of 10% each week by bitter cold and deep snow.

I know for a fact some a the B⁵ readers are horse-crazy; let’s help CAMDA and Mongolia’s extraordinary little horses and the Mongols who love them. Whaddya say? Please pass this appeal along however you can so we can make a real impact. Thank you so much, truly.

 

Mongolia: A Disaster Slowly Uncoiling

The situation in Haiti post-earthquake is a five-alarm, long term disaster, no doubt. But so many a the world’s nations, aid agencies, individuals, etc., are active there, I feel like that situation doesn’t really cry out for badgerly efforts. But I see there’s another, much more remote disaster slowly uncoiling in a place no one thinks about much: Outer Mongolia. The monk here lived in Mongolia for four years, and tells me of the Mongolians’ resilience and good humor in the face of some of the world’s most brutally extreme elements. But there are years when it’s just too much. This is one of em.

Snow-bound ger, a typical Mongolian countryside felt dwelling, covered in snow, Middle Gobi Province. Source: Xinhua

Seems the Mongolians have a word, dzud, which means, roughly, “a winter that’s atrocious even by Mongolian standards.” But it’s even more than that. I emailed the monk for an explanation, and here’s what he said:

“Dzud is a disaster that stretches well beyond the obvious. As you may know, a large percent of Mongolia’s population make their living herding animals for wool and meat: cattle, yak, sheep, cashmere goats, and Bactrian camels. Their land is uniquely suited for this. This life, of course, is highly dependent on the weather and availability of forage. Dzud actually begins in a dry summer when the grasses don’t grow much, what there is, is grazed short, and it’s not possible to put away much hay for the winter. Some of the herders are too poor to put up hay anyway. Then winter comes. It’s always quite cold, below 0F most of the time, but the Mongol animals are well-adapted and sometimes it’s dry enough that they can eke their way through on the grasses they find.

“Not this year. Dzud means the elements reverse in winter: it’s brutally cold, often -40F/C or less before factoring in wind, with blizzards that cover the grasses with impenetrable snow drifts. So there’s the immediate, terrible loss as livestock die. Mongol and international aid authorities are saying this is the worst dzud in at least 30 years; already well more than a million animals have perished.

“But then the nomads themselves get stranded and suffer with the diminishing ability to feed themselves and their families. This year it’s estimated that as many as 200,000 people are at risk of hunger, disease, frostbite and the like.

“Already starting is what happened during the back-to-back dzuds in 2000 and 2001—many nomad families are just giving up and migrating as economic refugees to the capital, Ulaanbaatar. The first migration doubled the city’s population to well over a million, severely straining a Soviet-era infrastructure designed for half that. These refugees live in often appalling conditions in outlying shanty towns, bringing to the city only their skills in animal husbandry. Many are forced into desperate tasks like collecting plastic bottles from trash containers for the pittance earned at recycling centers, and/or sending their small children out to beg on the streets. Since vodka is cheaper than milk, many often sink into the despair of alcoholism, leading to all the rest of the social problems of abuse, runaways, prostitution, child trafficking, etc.

“The added population also all burn coal, wood, or sometimes just anything, such as old tires, to keep warm in the winter. This has led to an abominable air pollution problem in the city for six months of the year, leading to sharp rises in all the expected respiratory illnesses, cancers, etc., that arise from that kind of environment. You’ll see the effects of the economic refugees pouring in this spring and summer, and the increased pollution next fall and winter, guaranteed.”

Live sheep among those frozen to death in severe Mongolian winter, Middle Gobi Province. Source: Xinhua

This unraveling disaster in Mongolia has no celebrity spokespeople, no telethons, no convenient cell phone donation numbers, no TV cameras on the ground (would they even work when it’s 40 below) to show the heartbreaking pictures, none a that. The Red Cross does have 14,000 volunteers out trying to get emergency rations to the needy and assess what else is needed. Australia’s pledged $1 million and China’s sendin material help.

I just spent a half hour tryin to find some way to make a donation that would specifically benefit Mongolia in terms a disaster relief and can’t quite get there; the Mongolia Red Cross website is woefully dysfunctional. The best I can do at the moment is suggest making a donation to the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies here, selecting “Disaster Relief Emergency Fund” as the route for your gift. Also, you can keep an eye on the developing situation, as I will, at ReliefWeb’s designated Mongolian Dzud page. Once something specific exists, I’ll put the link in the sidebar to replace the one for Haiti. But please consider help; it’s a ferociously awful situation.

 

Montana Images 9: Incense and Hoarfrost

It’s gettin near the weekend, so we’ll keep it light. Seemed a good day for snappin pics, and the monk sent me a couple. But before we get to that, wanna let you know that the monk’ll be leadin (and by ‘leadin’ I mean ‘tryin not to muck up’) a weekly Saturday Morning Sit. Startin this Saturday and every Saturday after that, he’ll guide a gentle combination of silent breathin/walkin meditation from 10-11am at the Namdroling Temple in Bozeman. For those who might be meditation greenhorns, he’ll also make himself available at 9:30am to give some simple instructions on posture, dealin with the mind, like that. It’s free, too, and the monk sez he’ll hang out for an hour after to chit-chat over tea if folks’re interested. Be kind to yourself after a long, stressful week and come on out.

If you never been to Namdroling, the monk got a pretty cool shot a the shrine room this mornin right about dawn. This is where the Saturday meditations’ll take place (and, shoot, all their practices). In a moment a serendipity, he walked by the incense burner and his robes whooshed up the smoke into the day’s first sunbeam floodin in an eastern window. Here’s the result:

It was a sharply cold, bright blue mornin outside and some configuration a the elements durin the night had laid opaque, crystalline hoarfrost over all the trees and bushes. The monk looked at the effect from the micro view, capturin some a the few remainin crabapples on the tree north a the temple…

…and then, a little more macro, his attention got drawn to a real Montana tableau further down the lane, featurin some low, frosted trees and an old-fashioned windmill.

You wanna see other gorgeous pics a Montana’s natural world, check out the shots just startin to be posted here by my buddy Cheryl.

 

HH the Dalai Lama Comin’ to Montana

Well. Now this news is the perfect way to start the day. Ewam, the organization a Gochen Tulku Sang-ngag Rinpoche, has just announced that His Holiness the Dalai Lama has officially accepted their invitation to come to Montana! With no specific date yet announced (I’ve heard 2011, but don’t go by me), His Holiness has nevertheless said that he will come to conduct the consecration ceremonies for their ambitious Garden of 1,000 Buddhas bein created a Ewam’s retreat land in Arlee, outside of Missoula. There’s lots more, so read all about it, and think how you might help with volunteer effort or donations or whatever to make this a most auspicious occasion!

The Dalai Lama’s teachings and presence figured significantly in gettin me started on the dharma path. I’m beyond thrilled he’s comin.

P.S. If you wanna get started preparin your mind for HHDL’s visit to Montana, don’t forget that Class 2 of Basic Buddhist Thought & Meditation is tonight at 6:30, at Namdroling in Bozeman. Word has it the monk will talk a bit about Buddhist history, the Buddha’s first teachin on the Four Noble Truths, and how the ‘three vehicles’ developed and were preserved in Tibet. The series will continue every Wednesday night till March 10th.

 

Kill Yr Iconoclasm! — Updated

Update: Thought I’d sneak in this quote from HH the Dalai Lama from his excellent teaching on “Renunciation and the Ordained Life”: “…whatever line of [Buddhist] practice you pursue, whether as a monastic member or a lay member, it is important to follow that with clarity.”

We reference Mongolia once in a while here on B⁵ cuz the monk spent a few years there recently and from time to time regales me with tales a the Central Asian hinterlands. One thing he mentioned that I found curious was that Mongolian language and culture doesn’t really support sarcasm or irony, two unfortunate staples a modern American communication. A lotta times the monk’s jokes would meet quizzical Mongolian responses and he had to learn to alter how he spoke, to be more straightforward. He found he was happier that way, and less inclined to prideful ego displays in the way he talked.

I bring this up because recently I’ve noticed a trend on some Buddhist blogs, or at least those that regularly comment on things Buddhist, toward just this kind of ironic distance, sarcasm, and deliberately coarse language. This is in seemin imitation of some a the great Buddhist iconoclasts a the past; you know, the ones who said, “If you meet Buddha on the road, kill him,” or slapped their own teachers as an expression of their own realization, like that. But if I’m readin it right, it all seems just a bit premature.

This brought to mind a story the monk told me of the great 19^th c. Mongolian Buddhist master, Danzan Ravjaa. By the social standards of the day, Danzan Ravjaa was an unpredictable rogue, known for his prodigious consumption of alcohol. But Ngari Panchen, in Perfect Conduct, his summary a Buddhist ethics accordin to the three yanas, offers us a little tidbit about this:

A vajra holder of the three vows does not behave thoughtlessly or casually. All actions are intentionally performed according to the appropriateness of the circumstance. A beginning vajra holder of the three vows is one who is still unable to transform the potency of alcohol through mantra and meditative absorption and who has not developed the power to transform poison. Even an advanced practitioner must approach the words of honor according to his or her level of development. If one has firm realization arising from the accomplishment of the two stages, one is then permitted to engage in conduct without acceptance and rejection.”

At one time, Danzan Ravjaa heard that several of his students were imitatin his drinkin and loutishly causin ruckuses among the population. He then called them all together. Now, Ravjaa lived in Mongolia’s Gobi Desert, and it was blisterin summer. It seems that several days earlier, a dog—as dogs will do—had vomited in a barrel a drinkin water, and it had ripened but good under the intense Gobi sun. Ravjaa had the barrel with him. He then said to the assembled drunkards that he was going to teach them a particular mantra which had the power to transform any substance into the most exquisite nectar. He made them memorize the mantra, and then dipped out a nice, full bowl of the dog-vomit water. They were each to repeat the mantra, blow on the water, and then drink the bowl’s contents.

Needless to say, even with the mantra, none a the students could even bring the bowl near their face, much less drink. It’s said, though, that when one woman blew on the water, a sweet smell arose, but the taste remained revoltin. When the bowl made its way back to Ravjaa, however, he recited the mantra once, blew on the bowl, and happily drained the contents. Then he said to them, “If your accomplishment is like that, drink all you like. Otherwise, leave it alone.” They were abashed and understood his meanin.

It seems there are some in the West who want to accessorize their lives with some kind of ‘Buddhism.’What they don’t want are what they would term the ‘religious trappings’ of Buddhism, such as the Buddha’s teachins on, for example, karma and rebirth, or anything to do with acknowledgin that the Buddha experienced a transcendent reality. This just don’t make no sense to me at all.

The Buddha taught very plainly about his enlightenment experience and that everythin he shared flowed from that. This is a state free from both defiled emotions and the underlyin mistaken concepts of self and independent phenomena. Liberated from these obscurations, he saw the exact ways in which beings experience various rebirths and their particular sufferins (samsara) due to negative actions engaged in outta ignorance. But he also saw that all beins are fundamentally pure by their nature, and by followin a certain path a ethical discipline, concentration and meditation, they themselves could definitely awaken to the same state beyond sufferin that the Buddha enjoyed. Then, for 45 years, he taught just that.

For nearly 2600 years, Buddhists have become Buddhists by developin a sensea renunciation for these pointless rounds a rebirths, seein somethin a the Buddha’s wisdom in identifyin the problem and its solution, and formally ‘taking refuge’ in the Buddha as the non-deceiving source a wisdom; the dharma as the correct path from sufferin to liberation; and the sangha as the virtuous companions in one’s quest for inner liberation.

One’s precepts are thereafter to respect all three, basically. Why? So the Buddha and subsequent lineage a Buddhist teachers could have docile followers they could manipulate and profit from? Not even remotely. The reason derives from the Buddha’s extensive, explicit teachins that cause and effect relationships are real, , in fact every singe thing and experience arise from them, and they’re exactin. Whatever one does leaves impressions on what we’ve termed in the West the ‘mindstream’ (to avoid givin the false impression that ‘mind’ is a singular entity rather than a stream of related, interdependent moments of awareness) and, accordin to the Buddha, form the cause for pleasant or unpleasant experiences in future lives, as well as one’s liberation or ongoin bondage to samsara. Recognizin that in one’s unenlightened state, the presence of images of the Buddha’s body, speech and mind are the extraordinary appearance of the means toward one’s liberation, one naturally takes care of them. This nurtures and deepens the relationship to one’s own liberation in this and future lives; the time to discard the raft is not when one is in the middle a the rushin current.

So when I fret about someone creatin shoes with the Buddha’s image (please don’t buy these), or about those in the Buddhist blogosphere who continually use harsh and provocative language even with one another, what I’m frettin about are the karmic results for them. Of the ten non-virtues the Buddha counseled us to avoid, he said the worst was the mental fault a wrong view. This is specifically defined as maintaining the view, and fostering the view in others, that there is no relationship between cause and effect in our actions, and denying the relative reality of past and future lives. Again, why? Because this would be bad PR for Buddhism and the numbers of faithful wouldn’t grow as fast? No. It’s because such views lead one to believe that every other sort a non-virtue is without negative result, even though the actual reality is different, and one is setting oneself up for a very hard time.

Padmasambhava, the Indian Tantric master seen as a second Buddha, who paved the way for the establishment of Buddhism in Tibet, put it very succinctly: “Descend with the view, while ascending with the conduct.” In other words, the greater one’s realization of the ultimate nature of self and phenomena, the finer one’s attention to even the most minute virtue or non-virtue, especially as regards the compassionate concern for the welfare and liberation of other. This seems the wiser course to emulate, don’t it?

 

Where Grizzly Bears and the Buddhadharma Meet

Followin on the last post about the monk’s journey into a bit a Yellowstone, I found an extraordinary piece a writin by one a his companions on the trip, Louisa Willcox. Turns out Louisa’s a bit of a rock star in environmental conservation circles, with a particular specialty as an advocate for the perpetually-threatened wild grizzly bear population, and problem-solving conflicts between bears and humans where their lives overlap. She’s also become a Buddhist practitioner over the past decade, and is a regular visitor to Namdroling in Bozeman.

Bitterroot’s a fan a strong writin wherever he finds it. And back in September a last year, Louisa wrote one of the most poignant essays I’ve read in a while, ruminatin on her role in the relistin a the grizzly bear as an endangered species after some long, bitter wranglin, legal and otherwise. Here’s an excerpt, but I really recommend readin the whole thing. It’s a remarkable statement from a remarkable woman and should be anthologized somewhere, don’t you think?

So, now just may be a perfect opportunity to create a dramatically different approach that has, at its core, learned the lessons of past mistakes.  It is hard to imagine a better time to transform the work of grizzly conservation into a new system characterized by human dignity, honesty, fairness, a commitment to the truth, and recognition of our interdependence.

“The connection between the idea of transformation and bears has been with us for thousands of years. The grizzly itself has symbolized transformation from seeming death to new life.  Bear cubs are born in the dead and dark of winter.  (Born blind and 16 ounces, they are, proportionally to their future size as an adult, the tiniest of any animal at birth).  Maybe, starting with small seeds of change in how we treat each other, we can create a different kind of community adequate to face the many challenges facing bear recovery — climate change, energy development, transmission lines, and human population growth.

“There is an old Native American story about how, in their winter dens, the Great Bear dreams the whole world into being, creating entire ecosystems, with aspen, hummingbirds, buffalo — creatures large and small, each with their unique and important roles to play.  It is said that in the spring, when the mother bear emerges from the den, trailed by her young ones, that all the other animals and plants celebrate, each in their own way.

“It is now our turn to dream into being a different kind of society, one that honors grizzlies as well as our own wild spirits, which are also in danger of disappearing…

“Who knows?  We may find that many of us already share, at a core level, a similar vision of what is possible and necessary for bears and society to thrive.  We may also find that social transformation, like a bear cub, starts out small, but can grow into something strong, resilient, adaptive and intelligent.”

 

A Montana Monk in Yellowstone Park

Don’t forget that tomorrow night a new series of Basic Buddhist Thought & Meditation classes starts at Namdroling in Bozeman, MT, but let’s move on, blog-wise.

Last Saturday the monk made his maiden voyage into Yellowstone National Park, in the company of Louisa and Martha. Louisa, in addition to being a regular at Namdroling, is a Senior Wildlife Advocate for the Natural Resources Defense Council. Her special expertise lies with grizzly bears and wolves, and how to resolve conflicts between them and humans (check her blog). That is to say, an excellent companion for the park, which she knows intimately, as did Martha (both have served as part of the Greater Yellowstone Coalition). Grizzlies weren’t on the menu, as they’re hibernating (Louisa promised them in April), but wolves were. I take pains not to see wolves, frankly, since I’m on their menu, but I see their attraction for folks.

Monk took his camera, with the camera fully charged, for once. So this’ll be mostly a picture tour, and since we’re on the subject, let’s start with the wildlife.

Just into the park’s northern entrance, the group encountered some elk, doing what they were doing everywhere in the park, which is to say, nothin.

But spyin some distant Bighorn Sheep, the monk got to absorb an important biological distinction, namely: elks got buffy butts, while sheep got white ones (more on this later).

Coyotes were about, pretty much indifferent to the presence a humans. No matter how handsome a portrait they make…

…they’re still killers. Here’s one huntin while another picks his nose…

…and here he’s killed a rodent (sorry, Zquirrel) while the other still picks his nose. Om Mani Padme Hung.

Buffalo roam the park, ‘course, and they saw many herds, but the monk sent me this evocative shot a one in classic profile in a winter snowscape. (You can read the saga of some 88 park buffaloes and Ted Turner, and how our billionaire neighbor just can’t do somethin for nothin)

Turns out they didn’t have to settle for distant scope views a the bighorns. Coupla rams, and their lily-white butts, turned up right by the road and the monk got a series a shots, since they were bein so obligin:

The deal at Yellowstone seems to be you drive around and see where others are stopped with various optics pointed into the wilderness and you stop to see what they’re seein. This paid off handsomely for our heroes when they turned into a pull-off and asked the shaggy youngsters what was in their scopes. Two bona fide wolves, as it turned out, loafin on a far-off ridegline. The spotters were volunteer monitors for The Wolf Project. Wolves in and around the park, only reintroduced in 1995, form packs which are named and watched very closely. The monitors told em these two wolves were breakaways from the Molly Pack that lurks outside park boundaries. As such, they were much more skittish than park wolves, since under certain conditions wolves outside the park can be hunted and killed by people. One sported a radio telemetry collar indentifyin him with the inelegant name a Wolf #682. The other had so far evaded the scientists’ darts.

The monk got stellar looks through the various scopes, observin the first wild wolves he’d ever seen. But when he tried to snap a pic through the scope, the focus couldn’t seem to zoom in right. Nonetheless, the one profile shot he got does have a certain eerie appeal, don’t it?

Other than the wildlife, the main appeal of Yellowstone is its famously surreal geological formations. The park boundaries preserve what is essentially the caldera of a very active super-volcano (the last eruption, about 640,000 years ago, blew out almost 240 cubic miles of debris; ponder that a sec). In fact, right this minute a minor earthquake swarm is bein reported from there (maybe I should check to see if my will is up-to-date).

The benefit for visitors is up-close encounters with the world’s largest thermal field and its incredible array a geysers, fumaroles, mudpots, and hot springs. But not too up-close, the dangers of which a portion a this park sign graphically illustrates.

The three just had time for an end-of-the-day exploration a Mammoth Hot Springs and its amazin travertine (calcium carbonate) terraces. From here on out, I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

 

Dharma & Karma, Critters & Folks — Updated x2

You live in or near Bozeman, MT, and feel distressed cuz you don’t know your dharma from your karma? Fret not, citizen! This Wed., January 20^th, Namdroling Montana’s crankin back up its Basic Buddhist Thought & Meditation sessions. Usin Bruce Newman’s delightful book, A Beginner’s Guide to Tibetan Buddhism, as a touchstone, for eight weeks you’ll get to sort out a little Buddhist history, the hearthought that motivates the Buddhist path, what that path itself consists of, and some practical experience each week in simple meditation. These conversation-based evenings, runnin from 6:30-8pm, are designed so you can come to any or all and not feel swamped.

Rumor has it the monk plans to be in attendance, but don’t let that deter you; come on out anyway!

Speakin a Namdroling, ol Bitterroot must be in a degenerate phase, memory-wise. Here I did all that business about Buddhist animal welfare organizations, and plum forgot about Namdroling’s Satsa House, a very special project to tend to the spiritual benefit of our beloved friends after their inevitable passage from this life. Khenpo Tenzin Norgay and Namdroling’s sangha work together to mold some of the animal’s cremated remains into a symbolic representation of the Buddha (satsa), perform special purification rites to create the conditions for auspicious rebirth, then house the satsa in a sacred structure on the temple property.

Also, the inimitable Tsem Tulku has come out strongly for animal welfare and the ending of cruelty to animals as a central element of his Dharma activity. He’s aspiring to set up an animal sanctuary in Malaysia, and has started with aviaries and aquariums, and many of his students have become vegetarian. We critters thank you and support you, Tsem Tulku! This is now on the Buddhist Animal Welfare list here; please scroll down and see the other fine groups doing this important work.

Update II: Just discovered there’s a newly-formed Animal Relief Coalition for Haiti (ARCH), spearheaded by the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) and the World Society for the Protection of Animals (WSPA). The Mutt Report seems to have an up-to-date list of other organizations in the coalition (includin one favorite: Best Friends Animal Society) and you can stay current on WSPA’s blog, Animals in Disaster.

Finally, let’s not forget our brothers and sisters still struggling under astronomically trying conditions in post-earthquake Haiti. Namdroling Montana is recommending Partners in Health as an effective charity with 20 years’ experience delivering health care to the world’s poor and directly benefiting the Haitians right now through its Stand with Haiti effort.

Update: One of Namdroling’s Board members just informed me she has a personal fundraising page for Haiti at the Partners in Health site. Help her raise her goal! Any amount counts! Click here!

 

Haiti Goddamn — Updated x2

Update II: Well, I’ll be. Thanks to Shambhala SunSpace’s message from Bhikkhu Bodhi on the Haiti catastrophe, I’ve discovered he launched the deeply inspiring Buddhist Global Relief (like, three years ago; way to stay current, badger). They’ve given $15,000 to the Haiti relief cause. Bless them, bless them.

Consider the beauty, the life of our Haitian brothers and sisters through a seminal Port-au-Prince band I used to love back in the 80’s, Boukman Eksperyans:

Consider the Haitians’ relentless suffering, political instability, and poverty for at least the past 100 years.

And now. There was a track on the astounding Max Roach/Archie Shepp duet album The Long March, called ‘South Africa Goddamn,’ presumably echoing Nina Simone’s ferocious ‘Mississippi Goddam.’ And that’s how I felt when the news about yesterday’s earthquake: Haiti Goddamn.

We must all help today, with money. They’ll need so much. Please let’s not plead that we don’t have anything. We know we have something and our Haitian neighbors don’t have anything anything. As we know, they were already the poorest country in our entire hemisphere. HuffPo has as good a portal as any to choose from established relief efforts but it can be as easy as texting ‘HAITI’ to 90999 to give $10 to the Red Cross, or text ‘Yele’ to 501501 to give $5 through Wyclef Jean’s Yele Haiti Foundation. It’ll show up on your cell bill. Please do something now.

Update: My eldest sister, who’s worked in international public health for a long time, including twice in Haiti, gave to Doctors Without Borders (Medecins Sans Frontieres). I’m gonna follow her lead.

 

Montana Images 8: Birds ‘n’ Barns

With nothing more to do for Ani Palchen, the monk took himself on a little Montana adventure on Friday. The stated mission was to scare up some rare birds (well, rare to him) for his ‘life list,’ but he managed to soak up some Montana history as well.

His main destination was the Carkeek Ranch, a remote outpost in Cameron, tucked in next to the Bear Creek WMA and Beaverhead National Forest a ways south a Ennis. Fueled with coffee and an incomparable, homemade huckleberry bar from MoJava in Four Corners, he set off to visit Karen, a new friend with whom he’d done his share for the Audubon Christmas Bird Count in Jeffers. A grandmother herself, she related how her great-grandfather homesteaded this patch in the 1860’s and her grandfather built up a 4000-acre cattle enterprise with the brand T Lazy J.

Here’s how it woulda looked if you were a cowboy comin in for supper.

The grandfather’s children went in for higher education; Karen’s mother, Roberta Carkeek Cheney, became a university professor and Montana historian. It was emphasized to the monk that there was NO relation to the Wyoming Cheneys whatsoever, comforting him greatly.

Monk was there because Karen told him that a little high-plains mountain bird he’d long dreamed of seeing, the Gray-crowned Rosy-finch, was a daily visitor to her feeders, in numbers. His arrival, however, after driving 75 miles, nearly devolved into panic. Karen appeared brightly baffled because, she said, a whole flock of the birds had just been there, woofed up the sunflower seeds, and now seemed…elsewhere. As politely as he could, the monk wondered aloud whether Karen recalled her agreement not to fill the feeders until after he’d arrived. More bright bafflement ensued, the monk’s anxiety only slightly lessened with the announcement that there were homemade cinnamon rolls warming in the oven (it seems that the fashioning and consumption a cinnamon rolls is a minor religion here in Montana, an adjunct faith to which the monk has happily subscribed).

With the monk’s gentle but persistent encouragement, Karen went out and refilled the feeders. And, as often, his anxieties were for naught. About as soon as the seeds hit the tray, down dropped a plump Gray-crowned Rosy-finch, stuffing his little beak and inexplicably not calling for a follow-up of cinnamon roll bits. The monk, truly unnaturally excited by this development, set about taking a gazillion photos through the dusty window. Here are two a the best where you can also see two sub-species, the Interior (1^st one, brown-cheeked) and Coastal (2^nd one, gray-cheeked); the monk’s partial to the one perched on the old antler:

But then, in a development that set the monk’s birdy brain to whizzin, a couple photos looked…different. And dang if he wasn’t lookin at a whole nother bird he’d never seen, the Black Rosy-finch, main difference bein the chin color. Handsome feller, too:

As he was leavin, Karen showed the monk she was readin Thich Nhat Hahn’s Living Buddha, Living Christ (totally support him gettin the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize, by the way) and loaned him a copy a Karen Armstrong’s fascinatin study, The History of God. Then, explorin around the place a bit, he saw that her son’s new home was festooned with Tibetan Buddhist prayer flags. You just never know where you’re gonna find tolerance and open-mindedness, do you?

So, full a cinnamon rolls (one batch was left in the oven a little too long, scorchin the top. Karen said, “Well, we’ll just eat them upside down!” Monk likes a practical woman, and confesses the rolls were still completely consumed, top to bottom) and drivin north a Ennis, the monk remembered a tip on one a his longtime ‘nemesis bird,’ the Snow Bunting. Seems they’d been spotted around the Troutdale II development. Monk pulls into the entrance road and bam! There they are, in a flock of about 75. Doesn’t even need to get outta the car. This ain’t such a great picture for the web, but it’s kinda neat seein em flyin:

Finally, climbin the pass beyond Norris, monk glimpses a bird on the power lines, interestin enough that he pulls his rig around and sure enough, there’s the Northern Shrike he’s been lookin for in North America for years. Monk wanted me to issue thanks to the black pickup for not plowin into his rear, seein as there was no shoulder and he was stopped smack dab in the middle a the road, gawkin through his binocs. Shoot, he didn’t even honk.

Monk felt this was just a miraculous day a birdin, four new birds before lunch during Montana winter, two over coffee and cinnamon rolls, and two right from the driver’s seat. I told him it was really kinda meaningless and unlikely to help him a whit after he dies. We’re still at a bit of an impasse there.