A few months after the land for the new Dhamma Giri centre was discovered in December 1973, Geo Poland, a Canadian, arrived, and within a few weeks Graham Gambie, an Australian, joined him. At that time only four colonial-era buildings stood on the broad hilltop: two stone bungalows, a large godown (warehouse) and a small shed. The newcomers took up residence in one of the bungalows, and several months later, after Geo left, I too moved in.
Our building was comprised of pairs of rooms at either end, one in front and a smaller one behind, a large central room, and a shaded veranda in front running its length. Graham lived in two rooms at one end of the building and I occupied two at the other. The middle room we kept for meditation. Local goat herders had been using the bungalow as a barn for their animals, so it required a thorough cleaning and several fresh coats of whitewash.
The property was not enclosed by any kind of fencing or a wall, and sometimes at night dozens of cows or goats would wander in to graze as they had done previously. To prevent this, around the buildings we erected a makeshift fence of scrap wood and wire and bamboo plants, but in their eagerness the animals often trampled our feeble barricade.
Soon after the land was purchased, a chowkidar (watchman) from a nearby farming family was hired to keep an eye on the place. Once he understood that animals were no longer allowed, and that chasing away errant livestock was part of his nighttime duties, the problem diminished. Later, when more and more Western students began to arrive, the old watchman retreated to his farm.
In those early days, that windswept knoll northwest of Igatpuri was almost deserted, home to numerous poisonous snakes and scorpions. Because the road from town was in poor condition, we had it cleared of rocks and leveled its surface, making it more suitable for wheeled traffic. There was no indoor plumbing or water supply; we had to bathe and fetch water in buckets at an old open well at the bottom of the hill. Neither was there electricity or a telephone, so it was difficult to contact anyone. Most communication was done by letters through the post.
When Goenkaji was asked what should be done there, he replied, “Meditate, meditate, meditate.” So we did. Besides our daily sittings, every Saturday evening either Graham or I would begin a one-day self-course and the other would serve. We started with refuge in the Triple Gem, took Five Precepts, then played the Anapana instructions on audiotape. For one-third of the course we practised Anapana; for two-thirds, Vipassana. On Monday morning our self-course would end with metta.
On Sunday afternoons, from noon to one, we arranged a weekly group sitting, invited the four Indian Vipassana students who lived in town, and played a recording of Sayagyi U Ba Khin's Tikapatthana (conditional relations). On weekdays we cleaned, made repairs, planted trees, and guided around the occasional curious visitor who came to explore the place.
Most foreign students visited for only a short while. We offered them temporary accommodation in one of the vacant buildings, but after meditating for a few days they were usually on their way. Some, however, remained for a number of months.
Ultimately Graham and I settled into a daily routine. We awoke early in the morning and after meditating made breakfast and chai. During that period I was an employee at the local municipal hospital, and before going to my job in town I would work at the Centre. Graham also busied himself with various chores, repairs and maintenance, and later in the day went to the market to buy food for his lunch and dinner. In the evening, frequently returning on my bicycle after dark, I too brought foodstuffs that we cooked together. While hunched around a gas stove preparing our meal by candlelight, we discussed the Centre's immediate needs—where to get pipes for the waterline, how to arrange for electricity and a telephone, what else needed to be done, and whose assistance we would require.
Besides our daily sittings morning and evening, we continued to sit short self-courses and serve more or less in this way until October 1976 when the first ten-day residential courses began at Dhamma Giri. Little by little, partly due to our evening discussions and their follow-up, and partly through the help of many other pairs of willing hands, both local and foreign, the Centre's most basic requirements came to be met. But never for a moment in those early days did we imagine how magnificent Dhamma Giri would eventually become.
Narayan, Graham & the old bungalow, 1974
Editor’s Note: This post is the fourth in an ongoing series, A Dhamma Giri Diary, comprised of remembrances that together offer a first-hand account of the initial few years that followed the 1974 purchase of the barren hilltop that became the first Indian Vipassana center, Dhamma Giri, in Igatpuri, Maharashtra. Narayan Dasarwar, who was there from day one, reflects on his association with S.N. Goenka, the principal teacher, the development of the center, and some of the individuals who helped make it possible. The Pariyatti Journal is grateful to Narayan for sharing his personal account of life at Dhamma Giri.