The Nechung Oracle

Entrance to the temple of the Nechung Oracle of Tibet

We got up at 5:30 and returned to the oracle's monastery. Monks served us little bowls of basmati rice mixed with raisins and cashews, and they also served us Tibetan yak butter tea. The rice was delicious and I had no trouble eating it with my hands, but the tea tasted like hot melted butter. I'd read about it many times, and it is indeed as gross as I anticipated.

We approached the open front doors of the temple room where the Oracle holds his strange ceremony. I could see a row of monks playing instruments and wearing those big crescent-shaped yellow hats, and beyond them the Oracle sat on a throne.

Monks placed the enormous metal and brocade helmet onto his head. We waited. The Oracle got up, turned around so that he was facing the throne, then turned back around, thrashed around, and sat back down, where he continued to thrash around.

Monks in ceremonial hats

Monks quickly ushered the crowd of both Tibetans and foreigners into the temple, so we went in and formed a line. The pushy monks pressed us up further and further, and as I approached the Oracle's throne, a monk told me to bow, and probably the same monk told me to hold out my hands. I thought we were supposed to press our hands together, but I held out my hands in front of the mildly thrashing and hissing Oracle with the enormous headdress--I didn't have time to get a look at his face--and he threw bright orange dry rice into my hands, and a monk shoved me along. I followed the crowd while I held my hands out carefully carrying the rice, and I was really uncomfortable because somehow in the process of the monk shoving me forward, some of my hair had caught in the strap of my bag, so I was slouching slightly while my hands were preoccupied with the rice, which I expected we had to throw at a shrine.

I followed the crowd through an outside door, and an attractive monk to my left said, "You put the rice in your pocket for good luck," and smiled charmingly. Suddenly I was calm and relieved, after all the intensity and weirdness of that experience. I put the rice in my coat pocket, and later I put some of it in the Tibetan amulet that I've been wearing with my homemade Tibetan clothes.

As the White Queen said, I can believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. Like the pilgrimage last year, this trip involves experiencing impossible things before breakfast.

Front entrance of the guesthouse

Steps leading up to dining room at guesthouse