The Puja at Karcha Gompa

Padum is a dusty place set in a broad flood plain at the intersection of the Stod and Zangspo rivers. From town, looking across the flats, you can see Karcha Gompa, perched on the side of a mountain around 5km away. That’s the thing with gompas. The monks have an eye for the dramatic and they typically pick steep, hard to reach cliffs and caves to build them. Visiting them by bike generally involves a lot of grunting, sweating and even the occasional swear words.
Alex was in a foul mood that morning. Something about getting an omelette rather than the porridge he wanted for breakfast put his spirit in a deep rut. To be fair though, this is quite out of character for him but here we were: Alex was in a mood and when he’s in a mood, Alex doesn’t pedal…
It was supposed to be a short and enjoyable side trip before we truely got back on the road the next day. What we couldn’t see from across the valley though was just how steep the climb to the gompa really was. By the time we started the climb, Alex was still moaning so I was dragging over 100lbs of dead weight up the hill which put me in a mood. I started yelling at Alex which, as you can imagine, did wonders to improve his spirit.
Robyn watching me make matters worse, made me aware in no uncertain terms that I was not helping which, as you can imagine again, really boosted up my morale. Things were going GREAT!
It was a sweaty, tired and very grumpy family barely talking to eachother that showed up at the gate of Karcha gompa that morning. Nico who had remained neutral so far heard the chanting first and waved us over toward the prayer room. We quietly entered and sat in a corner while 5 monks were performing a puja with hypnotic chants punctuated by the ringing of a small bell. One of the monks called Alex over to sit next to him and put his yellow monk bonnet on his head as the other monks smiled without interrupting their prayers. We sat there in silence for maybe 15 minutes, feeling the anger and frustrations of the morning melt away as we realized how futile they were.
After the puja, we were invited to have lunch with the little monks. Maybe 15 or 20 of them. Roughly the age of our children. The simple meal, eaten sitting on the ground of the inner courtyard was a loud, lively and happy affair. So with bellies full of rice and lentils and minds full of smiling little faces, it was a happy and thankful family that wandered down the path back to our bikes only a short hour after we arrived.
The monks had worked their magic once again like they had in Kaza some weeks ago already. I’m not religious but there is no denying that this particular puja, preformed by five monks at the Karcha gompa on morning of early August, actually did purify four souls who were in serious need of a good scrubbing. Thank you