No Wi-Fi. No television. No cellphone reception. But that's what you pay for at the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center and its 108 wooded acres just south of Indiana University in Bloomington. Not that you pay much. Renting one of the four yurts in these woods costs $65 per night.
THE BASICS
Thubten Jigme Norbu, an Indiana University professor emeritus better known as the Dalai Lama's older brother, started the center in 1979 not only to preserve Tibetan and Mongolian cultures, but to "promote interfaith peace and harmony," according to the center.
What you won't get during your stay: what's mentioned above. Or soap in the bathroom.
What you do get: an eight-sided, one-room yurt (plus bathroom) that's nothing fancy but clean enough to walk across barefoot. You get a kitchenette, twin futons raised a couple of inches off the floor, a skylight and a small deck facing the woods. And, oh yes, inner peace.
WHAT TO DO
The Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center will probably be the first time for most travelers to check into an accommodation in your socks. The office where travelers are directed is inside the temple, which means you don't want to commit the no-no of walking in with shoes on. The yurts, simple huts at the edge of a dense gathering of trees, serve as lodging.
Of course, the place to find peace, as well as stimulate the harmony within, is in the quiet of nature. Although this place isn't quite in the middle of nowhere -- single-family homes surround the property -- amid the thick trees and classic Buddhist architecture, things still feel quiet and removed. If that's not enough to feel a world away from the chain hotels of downtown Bloomington, three maroon-robed Buddhist monks live on the property.
In the quiet and stillness, you slowly come to expect more of yourself -- more thought, more reflection, more deliberation. It slows you to the point that when finding a daddy long legs scurrying away for dear life on your yurt's lime-green wall, you shrug and go about your business. All creatures have their place.
As night fell, life was enduringly idyllic: A sliver of moon hung before twinkling stars and an inky black sky. The only sound was the faint hum of tires just off the property.