I have been to the mountain and I have seen many things.

I have learned that a winter without rain makes a city dusty and dirty and the air becomes difficult to breathe. I have learned that without good organization, roads are not built well and cities are not planned; they simply emerge haphazardly and without scheme. I have learned that people who drop all their garbage on the ground, live in debris and don’t notice it.

I have been to the marketplace where beautiful women and toothless men follow me trying to sell me their wares. One lady, by sheer tenacity and with her smile convinces me to purchase a silk bag. I buy two.

I have learned not to toss a tissue out after one use, but to place it back into my pocket to use again and again and then finally to appreciate it in the paperless toilet. I have learned to hold my breath in that toilet and to flush by scooping the bucketed water and pouring it into the bowl or down the hole on the floor.

I have been to the village and realized that little girls are shy and coy and like to hold the hand of the American lady who comes to visit; that pre-teen girls walk in small groups of friends chattering of boys and plans and pre-teen gossip, whether they’re wearing blue-jeans or saris; and that seventeen-year-old boys swagger their steps and take on a macho look in Nepal as they do in Sayville. I have looked into the eyes of a little girl with the sense that I know her – that surely there is credence to reincarnation. I have seen mothers round-up their children for dinner into mud-huts and old men work focused on making a perfect rope. I have seen the village clean, swept by ladies bent over small twig brooms.

I have ridden on an elephant and canoe, on a raft and an ox cart and all have their merits. I have relished the warmth and comfort of a hot-water bottle on a cold evening and wonder why we no longer use them in this country. I have seen wisps of women cut down elephant grass and carry large bundles strapped to their heads and waists across the river in colorful lines of “lady-bushes”. I have learned to discern the difference between elephant dung and rhinoceros dung at a glance and I can spot a swinging monkey in a tree. I have sat around a smoky wood fire with new friend enjoying it more than I would have TV at home.

I have seen the funeral pyre on the banks of the Ganges tributary and have caught a tiny bit of the burning flesh smell as it wafts in the air. I have spoken with the toothless homeless man who speaks eight languages fluently and have had my photo taken with the colorfully painted holy man.

I have stood under the Annapurna mountain range, fifty years after reading the book of that title, never having imagined that I would ever travel to this place and I wonder at the Fish-tail peak in that range. I have climbed to the top of a crest and looked across the clouds to other mountains. I have purchased hand woven scarves and pashminas of vibrant colors that glint in the sun from the ladies who made them.

I have seen Buddhist monks play soccer and laugh in the courtyard of the temple and I have wept in the temple filled with chanting monks. I have spun the prayer wheels hoping that the thousand prayers in each one actually does spray out across the earth to all people and things and I have walked the clock-wise walk around the temples. My eyes have met the eyes of a Buddhist nun at prayer and she smiled at me. I have greeted each person I meet with “Namaste” which means “the divinity in me acknowledges the divinity in you” and I think that in my home town people would be better for using the same greeting to one another.

I have seen myriad dogs sleeping on the side of the roads and in yards all day long and then heard them bark throughout the night, longing for human attention.

I have seen many men wearing the traditional “gho” in  and consider them to be very handsome in it. I have been awed by the reflections of Native Americans I see in the Bhutanese people and their culture. I have experienced their extraordinary nationalism and dignity.

I have learned the value of a strong woman-friend when we are both afflicted with the same stomach virus. We help each other through it and there is no need for “thank-you’s” nor apologies. I have seen kindness, humor, generosity and camaraderie from some of my traveling companions and arrogance and cynicism from others. I have learned to accept all as human nature.

I have learned that flights out of Delhi airport are frequently cancelled due to fog and that flights into Kathmandu can be cancelled because the sun has set there. I have learned patience and peace and that eventually you do get home. I have learned that Home is exceedingly luxurious and that I am extravagantly blessed and though I have been far, far from home, I have taken my peace and joy with me and shared it with those that I met – either with a smile or a kind word or understanding.

I have been to the mountain and I have attained enlightenment – or at least, its beginnings.

About the author: Grace Papagno has lived in Sayville for over thirty years. She loves her town and loves to write, so writing for Sayville.com is a natural combination for her. She can be reached at lady33g@verizon.net