I didn’t look at my watch, but my guess is that it was sometime around 3 AM when the unearthly sounding horns first started. It was still quite dark outside and, snugged in my down sleeping bag in a tent, I thought I was having a very weird dream--until the horns were accompanied by the sounding of a gong, and then clanging cymbals.
Leah and I were camped near the Tengboche Monastery and we were waking to the morning of the Mani-rimdu festival, the fall ceremony of dance that dramatizes the story of Buddhism’s triumph over Bon, Tibet’s animist religion. Our Nepali guide was rustling around in his tent nearby, and--reluctant to leave the warmth of my goose down cocoon--I called over to him to ask what was going on outside. He explained that the monks at the monastery were greeting the dawn in a way that would hopefully bring clear weather for Mani-rimdu.
After an hour (or more) of horns, gongs and cymbals, I emerged from our tent to see that the monks’ efforts had been successful. The morning fog was burning off, giving-way to a perfect, blue sky day.
Trekking in the Mt. Everest region of Nepal, we’d planned our trip so that we’d have three days in Tengboche. There were many aspects to Mani-rimdu: the dance ceremony, a blessing of the public by the abbot of the monastery, offering of gifts from the public to the abbot, and much socializing on the part of the Sherpa people who live in the region. We wanted to be part of all of this.
If it meant a 3 AM wake-up call, then so be it.
