In the morning we boarded the tour buses once again so that we could go just outside Bodhgaya to see more holy sites. The first, twenty minutes away, was the main Bodhi tree, or rather a descendent of that first tree, for Buddha lived 2500 years ago. This was the tree where Buddha sat and meditated for six years eating only one grain of rice per day. After spending six years here, he had then gone into town to become enlightened after one week underneath the other tree behind the temple. An interesting statue representing this period of the Bhudda’s life was off to one side with the Buddha completely emaciated, ribs protruding and forehead veins bulging like an anatomical specimen.

The group gathered around Rinpoche sitting beneath the limbs of the huge beautiful tree draped with Tibetan prayer flags and received a puja, or teaching from His Holiness. I couldn’t hear for the chatter of the local peasants gathered around us, but I enjoyed the scene and the incense and watching the candle lighting ceremony. Then, again, they all chanted the mesmerizing syllables. As we were leaving, donations were handed out to the poor beggars. They had followed us all on our long walk through the rice fields to the tree. A dirty little girl in a ratty pink dress and quiet little boy each held one of my hands as we walked. It was rather touching. The other children were all holding out their hands in begging fashion, asking for rupees, or rather, demanding them.

After boarding the bus again, we drove another fifty minutes into the hills. It was then that I had a chance to talk to Khenny - or rather Khenrab. He was one of the most western easterners with blue jeans and t-shirts and sunglasses and good English. He had just finished acting in a movie for Bollywood up in the mountains. He told me that in Tibet, parents don’t name their children, lamas do. And he had been named Khenrab Thayi, which means very great genius. It didn’t seem to fit exactly. He came across more as a flirtatious guy who likes to be cool and find a little mischief. He said his father had been a king in eastern Tibet before China took their land. Well­ and that would make him a prince. How fantastic - meeting a very high lama and a prince all on the same journey! When I asked, he told me that his father was in his seventies and was very good friends with the Dalai Lama. They had fled Tibet together on horseback all those years ago. Khenny even traced for me on my map the route that they took over the Himalayan Mountains. It was different from what I had imagined. And then he asked if I had ever been to Tibet. And I said no, but I would really like to go sometime. And so he told me that he was going in May and I could go with him like his girlfriend and everywhere we went they would treat us like royalty. Oh, my! Touring Indian holy sites with a high lama followed by touring Tibet with a Tibetan prince! I almost considered it. As I imagined he would, he used the same line on Suzanne, thirty four and newly divorced.

Later we found out that he is married to the tour company’s owner’s sister. And we found out that the owner is a tulku - a recognized reincarnation of a high lama - but that he had refused the robes to live free and drink rum and whisky and smoke. And, really, it was all in the family. One of Khenny’s sisters was married to Rinpoche’s eldest son and they had an eleven year old boy who was being groomed to take the high lama’s place at his death. Another of his sisters, who was along on the journey, was a diplomat in the Tibetan government in exile.

On arriving to the hills, we had a long hike up the steep bank to the cave where the Buddha had meditated for many years. The view above was beautiful. We rested and then had a small candle lighting ceremony before the entrance to the tiniest of caves. It began to rain, and so our stay was relatively short.

As we were leaving, Rinpoche blessed the monks who were staying there. And I thought, again, what a wonderful way to see the holy Buddhist sites, with this high lama and his followers and his ceremonies. I tried to imagine if I could have, or would have had the nerve, to find my way to these more remotes places all alone. I don’t think it would have happened. And it certainly wouldn’t have been as special. How lucky I am - blessed!