My study trip this year took me to Nepal to visit the Himalayan shamans.
We are a group of seven people and are lucky enough to be able to experience the way of life of the shamans of this region up close and authentically. I spend the first few days in the Kathmandu Valley. The three former royal cities: Kathmandu, Patan and Bhaktapur have grown together to form a cosmopolitan city of 3.5 million inhabitants. A pulsating metropolis that does not succeed in overlaying the powerful original spiritual energy that has prevailed there for a long time with its modernity. We visit the stupas, temples and pagodas of the region and are overwhelmed by the many impressions we gather.
Finally we reach Nargakot, a village at an altitude of around 2000 meters, 30 km outside Kahtmandu. This is the home of the Tamang, an ethnic group that emigrated from Tibet to Nepal around 600 years ago and settled on these mountains. We meet Santa, the guru shaman. A guru shaman is the most important shaman in the region. He is highly respected and also trains future shamans. Santa has a very peaceful nature - a face like a teddy bear.
The knowledge of the shamans here is only passed on from teacher to student in oral form and is kept secret. This tradition has been practiced unchanged for thousands of years. Santa is illiterate, like most people here. Krishna, my friend and partner in Nepal, has gained the trust of Santa and around 40 other shamans over 20 years of development work, which alone is the reason why we are allowed to be here and enjoy the privilege of immersing ourselves in this ancient, continuous, archaic tradition. There are currently still around 700,000 shamans in Nepal. However, progress cannot be stopped here either. The younger generation wants little to do with old customs and traditions. They are migrating to the city and are interested in clothing and other status symbols. Even the sons of the two guru shamans I meet have left the traditional lineage. They sit here and spend most of their time looking at their smartphones. Things are not looking good for the offspring who are continuing the traditions. In my opinion, in 50 years at the latest, the customs and traditions here will be almost as forgotten as they are here in Europe. This is perhaps another reason why the shamans here are slowly opening up to strangers. Strangers who are genuinely interested in their knowledge and are keen to pass it on.
In Himalayan shamanism, healing takes place almost exclusively through the chanting of mantras. Santa lived in a cave for months and learned with his teacher to recite all these mantras correctly and to charge them. A fascinating chant, accompanied by rhythms on a typical frame drum. It is round, covered with animal skin on both sides and has a long, pointed handle at the lower end. The mallet is very thin and bent in an S-shape. It makes a fine sound when played.
Over the next few days, we receive lessons from this loving man. We get a taste of his tradition, learn mantras and a lot about his world view, his gods and spirits. At the end, he celebrates a healing ceremony with us. A second shaman comes from the next village. Relatives and other villagers also take part in the ritual. We sit on the floor in this room, which is now very full. I have the honor of drumming with the two shamans. For a few hours, until we are in a trance. The spirits are all there now. A strong field surrounds us. Santa blows all the evil spirits out of the sacred space with a tiger's thigh bone. We have all been given a body protection mantra beforehand, which now protects us. We all sacrifice coins, a fingernail, a hair, a piece of our clothing, various types of grain. Our threads of fate are cut and the planetary constellations that are destructive for us are dissolved. A powerful ritual...
The next day we drive north towards the Tibetan border and close to the Kalinchock temple, a pilgrimage site and shaman temple. We set up camp in a small village far away from civilization. We are allowed to take part in the ancestor festival on the April full moon. The highlight of our trip.
We meet Armin, the guru shaman. During the night, we descend to his hut (we are high up in the mountains). A tin hut, as there are many of them here. The door is open, inside sits this little person, 73 years old, in his shamanic costume in front of his altar, reciting his mantras. He is wearing a peacock feather ornament on his head. These symbolize the shamanic flight, the journey. Over a white dress that reaches down to the floor, his body is adorned with two diagonally tied chains of bells and in his hand he holds his frame drum. His wife, dressed in traditional clothing, sits by his bedside. She smiles at us in a very friendly manner and invites us in. Armin is the strongest shaman far and wide. He connects with the spiritual world in his house and carries this power into the village to the ritual site.
We are allowed to accompany him as he descends 700 meters through the darkness to the village, singing and drumming without a lamp. Along the way, we are joined by other locals. They are all dressed traditionally and join in the singing. We experience the meeting of several shamans, who greet each other dancing, but also measure their strength. We see a "chapel" in which there is a shamanic altar, the extent of which I can hardly describe here. A power, a magical field that cannot be put into words. Nevertheless, I find it very familiar, I feel safe and at home. Women sit in groups outside and recite a mantra of praise for hours. Always the same few lines. This mantra carries the mood outside, while inside they discuss the course of the ceremony. People sing and some begin to fall into a trance. There is hardly any light - only the candles at the altar and a little illumination at the three food stalls outside provide a slight glow. We are the only strangers here. Not even people from the next valley are supposed to be here. This causes a little commotion in the chapel - the guru's son, who is accompanying us, speaks something like words of power and it is quiet again. The atmosphere is archaic, magically spiritual and very traditional. We are all very grateful and humble...
