Forward...

Final Thoughts and Reintegration...

2006-03-04T07:09:00.000-08:00

I have now been back two weeks from my incredible journey. I am still jet lagged, waking up at 5am every morning (they say it takes a day for every hour coming from Asia). I have also decided to change my name to Sri Ebenananda which translates into "the holy bliss of Eben." For short, you can now call me Sri E. (prounced "Shree E"). Actually, the only people I want to call me that are my brothers.

I came back for my mom's planned birthday party. Happy Birthday Mom. If not for the party I would have extended my trip at least another month, but it is good to be back on many levels.

Reintegration has been very difficult. My world view has experientially broadened, and I am also seeing and witnessing my world view more intimately. My experiences now inform my day to day activities in ways I never imagined. Memories are brought up by some of the most unlikely places.

The final itinerary: San Francisco - Bangkok - Delhi - Vrindaban - Agra - Vrindaban - Haridwar - Rishikesh - Dharmsala - McLeod Ganj - Amritsar - Jaipir - Pushkar - Uddaipur - Mumbai - Kochin - Allepy - Amritanandamayi - Kollum - Varkala - Trivundrum - Delhi - Bangkok - Sarat Thani - Krabi - Railay Pennisula - Krabi - Bangkok - Chiang Mai - Pai - Chiang Mai - Chiang Kong - Muay Xien - Luang Nam Tha - Muang Singh - Luang Nam Tha - Luang Probang - Vang Vien - Vientienne - Pakse - Champasak - 4,000 Islands - Don Det - Pakse - Sien Reap - Bangkok - San Francisco.

Most Challenging Country: India. Most rewarding country: India. Most Shanti place I've ever experienced: 4,000 Islands, Laos. Best Food: Thailand. Hottest Food: Thailand. Most scared I've ever been in my life: anytime I was in a motorized vehicle in India.

The trip was an incredible opening, a gracious closing, a bearing witness to samskaras burning, a tearful apology, a joyful beginning, an uncovering of samskaras long dormant, a sink into the self and a bold destruction of preconceptions and patterns of behavior. It was a frustrated scream to no one and everyone and a doubled-over laugh till you can't breath. It was a deep breathing exercise into the expanse and intimacy of an incredible area of the world.

I went seeking adventure and I found it. In this seeking I found an intimacy in the world that is impossible to get by reading the New York Times or watching television. I realized how much tension I hold and how much white noise is generated by our living in the western world. I realized how hard I can be on myself - phyisically, intellectually and emtionally - and how a spiritual practice informs this awareness and allows for a more gentle approach to living in the world . Never have I cherished my yoga and meditation practices as I do now. For me, they are the key to revisiting my adventures and bringing these experiences into my day to day living. My biggest personal lesson from my travels: my practice goes deeper when I stop trying so hard.

Thank you to everyone that gave me their support, love, levity, sacrasm, and ribbings. I appreciate all of it. My love to all of you.

Shanti, Shanti, Shanti,
Eben

Luang Probang, Vang Vien, Vientienne, Pakse, 4,000 Islands, Cambodia, Bangkok...

2006-02-21T12:13:00.000-08:00

The chill out vibe of Luang Probang, and Laos in general is impossible to esacape. You sink into a shanti MO that allows you to move into the days and nights with an ease that ensures that nothing is too rushed, there is no panic (less the manifestations of Intestinal Armageddon) or pressure... the overwhelming feeling is one of being present without anticipation or expectation. Laos is one of the poorest countries in SE Asia and the world... and yet somehow, with village life pervasive, the poverty seems less intense. When life is composed of the urban environment, it seems easier to compare one country to another; the "poorness" can be seen in a context that is familiar. When your witnessing a country where the majoirty of life is lived in villages populated with bamboo huts on stilts, the poverty is not as apparaent. The people may not have many of the material things that can be associated with "non-poverty" but somehow those "things" don't fit into the model of village life. I understand that I am a farang (foreigner) looking at a foreign country through distinctly colored glasses, but my experience was that poverty is relative and that while Laos is a very poor country by per capita GDP measures they have a wealth that is difficult to measure.

My experience with the Buffalo then led to "friend" deciding to cohabitate with me. This friend ensured that nothing was "normal" for a few days. After a particularly difficult night and careful consultations with my travel companions, I decided to (was told that I must) seek professional help. I started by going to the Luang Probang medical clinic. Most of the building was boarded up, looking like it hadn't admitted a patient in ten years. I stumbled across a young man standing on his balcony looking at me exactly as I felt: out of place and confused (I was dehydrated as well, but that's a difficult look to pull off). His name was Mr. Bounmy Phimmachane (it is pronounced nothing like it looks). I called him "Boo" for short. He spoke a total of 4 words of English, but my charades were effective in telling him what the problem. I was able to figure out that he was a medial student. He indicated that he would help me find a doctor.

Boo and I visited 2 different clinics that were more like small houses, only to find that the doctors were both in Vientienne (the capital of Laos) for two weeks. After walking for an hour, I decided that it was worth sporting the $1 to get a tuk tuk (a kind of rickshaw converted from a pikcup truck). We took the tuk tuk to the formal Luang Probang hospital that had about as much activity as the boarded up building I had visited earlier, however it was cleaner and newer. Once at the hospital I was told to take off my shirt and lie down on the bed. Boo was not there for some reason, so I repeated my charade, visibly demonstrating bloating, gas pains, diareha and general digestive discomfort. I do wish someone was filming, as the 7 Laos nurses were laughing hysterically, some of them pointing, and still, not a lick of English being spoken. I did as I was told and laid down on the bed, and took my shirt off. I'm not sure if it was the red beard, the hairines, the freckles or the ghost white body complexion (godbless the Danes), but I saw a mixture of intrigue, confusion and pity as these seven women were standing around the bed and poking me. Another woman then walked through the door and it was obvious that she commanded respect from the other 7. She was the doctor. Boo conveniently appeared behind her and after I got a quick check with a stethoscope and some more poking, I was given a prescription for three different medications and sent on my way. I have no idea how they diagnosed my problem, but I did get better. Boo was a godsend and I thanked him with a nice tip as I found my way back to my guest house, hopeful of a night's rest less painful then the night before.

My time in Luang Probang came to end peacefully as I extended my Laos visa anticipating my trip to the south of Laos.

I took an easy bus to Vang Vien, where I met up with a couple friends I had been travelling with. Vang Vien is incredibly beautiful... a mixture of meandering rivers and dramatic peaks.

The town itself is very much a backpacker purgatory. The main street is a dirt road of all guest hosues and restaurants. There were two restaurants that had lounging style wooden couches with a rather western menu and televisions at the front that played nothing but Friends reruns from 6am to midnight. I had a hard time believing it, but it was true.. and the places were packed most of the time with people riveted to the sitcom. My general feeling was disappointment and disbelief. I realized quickly that I didn't miss television in the slightest. One activity that we engaged in included tubing down the river while occassionally paddling over to entrepreneurial folks that had set up rope swings and zip lines that were free to use with the purchase of a BeerLao (the best beer in SE Asia, I might add). The rope swings and zip lines were a blast.

Vang Vien, for all it's beauty was not quite the vibe we were seeking, so we continued our push south to Vientienne. We did so by means of kayaking. We kayaked for the day from an hour south of Vang Vien to an hour north of Vientienne, and it included one very fun class 3 rapid, some wonderful meandering and one great cliff jumping. Cliff jumping, I was reminded experientially, is one of the great thrills in life. I could've stayed there all day jumping off the 10 meter ledge. Alas, we had to meet our bags further downriver. I realized later that night that in my abscence my bags had been pilfered and $100 and my leatherman had been stolen. No wonder our driver was smiling so warmly. Looking back on it, I was more pissed off that I was taken for an the extra dollar on the ride down to Pakse, paying 40,000 kip instead of 30,000 than I was about the $100, as it was the principle of it all. This was the only time I had anything stolen during my trip, so all things considered, I'm not complaining (not to say I wouldn't like to have a "meeting" with our driver again).

Vientienne has to be the most mellow capital of a country in the world. By Laos standards this place is hopping, but anywhere else this town would be a bore. I liked it very much. While in Vientienne we spent a day at a Buddhist temple that organizes a wonderful Vipassana (insight) meditation. After a couple hours of this wonderful meditation, we adjourned to a steam bath and massage parlor conveniently located right next door. Without the time for a massage, I was able to have a great steam and some hilarious conversations with the proprietors of the "spa." Having a wonderful sit followed by a steam was tough to beat. It was a good thing, as I would need all that grounding to withstand the onslaught of the horrible Lao pop music I would have to endure on my overnight bus from Vientienne to Pakse (continuing to move south). In my humble opinion, Thai pop music is horrendous and Laos pop music is a bad version of that. Withstand it we did, and arrived in Pakse at 6am. We found a guest house after numerous failed attempts and explored the town a bit. In Pakse I was able to start the process of getting my visa for Cambodia. With those wheels in motion and after a day trip to Champasak to see the beautiful temple Wat Pho (and a hitchhike back after two of the girls I was travelling with refused to pay $3 for a tuk tuk... the hitchhiking ended up being a blast... we actually got picked up, thanks to the girls, sharing the back of a pickup truck with a chicken tied up but still running around, sensing its impending demise. Something tells me that I wouldn't have had as much luck hitchiking by myself.. the whole white skin/bald/red beard thing is a bit odd to most Laos people I encountered.

We took the second most crowded ride I have ever experienced from Pakse to Don Det in the 4,000 islands area of Laos in the far south. I know what you're thinking: "Eben, how in the WORLD are you going to visit 4,000 island in 5 days?!?!?"

4,000 islands is the type of place where 4 days could easily slip into 5 weeks. It is an area where the MeKong splits into many different sections creating, well, 4,000 islands with incredible waterfalls. There is electricity, maybe, from 6pm to 9pm, definitely no internet, and all guest houses are right on the MeKong river in the midst of the village life. When the farangs are not around (hot season and wet season) it's easy to see that everyone is kept busy with harvesting rice and doing all the other activities that make village life viable. Of all the places I visited during my travels, never did I feel as relaxed as I did at Don Det. The days were warm and consisted of lots of walking (there are not cars in the area), more floating in innertubes, yoga, reading, chatting with the locals, eating (lots of eating), visiting disgustingly beautiful waterfalls, attempting to see the rare river dolphin (goose egg), and napping. The nights were incredibly clear with no sounds but the wind in the trees and the occassional lapping of the river. The clarity of walking at night by moonlight amongst this kind of peace is something I will never forget.

With great difficulty we made the trek back to Pakse in the most crowded ride I have ever experienced (see qualification of ride down to 4,000 islands from Pakse). Imagine a covered pickup truck, wiht two 2 by 8 planks of wook on either side and another 2 by 8 in the middle as a bench. For this 5 hour ride I was sitting on the side with my knees pushed together due to the rest of the Laos population that was also along for the ride. I had one child sitting on my left knee and further to my left was an 80lb pig in a burlap bag that occassionally squeeled with such volume that made it sound like the end of the world. There were two Italian women across from me, and if anyone wanted to move at all, it required everyone else to uncomfortably move. After 3.5 hours one of the people I was travelling with decided she had had enough and climbed out through the bars of the cover and climbed to the roof to ride out the remainder of the trip. Everytime the tuk tuk stopped we were swarmed with people attempting to sell us coconut stickyrice served in a piece of bamboo, chicken skewers, grilled plantains, daikon radishes and water. If I could've moved to reach my wallet it would've been nice to get some food. We made it back to Pakse and arrived back at our same guest house without incident, except for the blood clots that had started to form in my legs.

The next day we were onto Siem Reap, Cambodia to visit Angkor Wat. We flew from Pakse to Siem Reap due to time constraints, also due to fear from the numerous stories we had heard of the horrendous road conditions in Cambodia (that are supposedly kept that way to incourage us westerners to fly). Siem Reap is going through a very big boom time due to the explosion in tourism to Angkor Wat. Angkor not only is an incredible treasure but also a source of intense national pride. Pictures of the temples adorn everything. Angkor Wat is a series of temples and supporting building that were built between the 9th and 13th centuries. They are spread over 500 square kilometers or so and represent temples dedicated to organic spirit-based devotions, Hinduism and Buddhism. It is breathtaking. Much restoration work is underway, but many of the temples are in remarkable condition. We bought three day passes to the temples and rented bikes for the first two days.

Cambodia was very warm and humid. It's slowly approaching the hot season, but darn if it didn't feel like we were in the middle of it while we were there. Siestas were a part of the everyday experience, spreading a blanket out under a bazillion year-old tree that was growing out of some secluded temple. We would bring bread, chesse and fruit, eat and then nap for a couple hours. Come 2.30 or 3pm it was manageable to start exploring again. We made 3 sunsets and 1 sunrise at Angkor Wat. They were truly incredible. The scope, expanse and detail of the stone carving is hard to imagine. Three days is a perfect amount of time. At the end of the third day I experienced the "Templed-out" feeling that had been described to me. It's also called "Wat-ed Out".

One claim to fame of Siem Reap (and Angkor, I suppose), is that it was the sight of the movie "Tomb Raider." Though I never saw the movie, Angelina Jolie is a bit of a hero here, her picture adorning more than one of the restaurant menus we chose our meals from. One bar, the Red Piano, is known as the place where the crew would party every night while they were filming. Now that I read this, I'm not sure why I included it in this blog... but there it is...

Even with Siem Reap being a boom town, the scars of the last 30 years are just below the surface. The Khmer Rouge killed more then 2 million Cambodian people from 1975 to 1979. This is one quarter of the population. People were killed because they were teachers, because they spoke a foreign language, or simply becuase they wore glasses. Some were killed for no reason. There is an edge to the people in the country that I didn't experience in Laos or Thailand. The Khmer Rouge killed the intellectual, learned base of the country and it is still recovering, struggling in trying to enter the world economy. From what I've heard it is almost impossible to find someone over 30 years old that didn't lose a close family member during the Khmer Rouge's rule. Pol Pot was the head of the Khmer Rouge and was ultimately responsible for the killing fields... for killing 2 million people, he was put under house arrest where he eventually died not too long ago. It makes you sick, especially when you hear the people's stories and experience what he did to the collective psyche of the country. It's no wonder Cambodia is having a hard time shifting into a service-based economy.

Siem Reap as a town has many of the western amenities that Laos did no have. There were many restaurants that served western meals. And the first dinner we all had included spaghetti, a nicoise salad and a pizza. There is also a nice selection of French wines in the town, so that was also a treat. We stayed there for 6 days before my travel companions headed to Phenom Phen then onto the southern coast for some beach time and I made my way to Bangkok for the last day and night of my journey.

I arrived into Bangkok at 1pm and spent the day visiting some incredible temples, taking a ferry ride down the river during sunset, and getting turned down entrance into the Oriental Hotel due to the fact that I was wearing sandals (I was told by my friend Ed and Karen that is a must do... interesting how now I have a reason to go back!). Ed also gave me a WSJ article about a restaurant called Luk & Let which is essentially aluminum tables with plastic stools on a street corner that has some of the best seafood served anywhere "in the world." After lots of meandering through Bangkok's Chinatown district, I found the "restaurant." I ordered as the artcile instructred: a whole Kingfish wrapped in foil with a corriander chutney, Tom Yam (spicy Thai seafood soup), Fresh crab fried rice, and a large Singha. They weren't kidding. It was some of the best seafood I have ever tasted. I was the only whitie as far as the eye could see which I took as a very good thing, and I was whiping my brown and sniffling through the entire experience as the spices took hold (memories of the "the chili pepper episode" in Pai not far below the surface). This last meal was a wonderful memory of immersion as I ate, sat back, breathed deep breaths, and took in everything around me. The outside fire burning incredibly hot with hundreds of items being cooked and people running around everywhere. This experience allowed for beautiful calm in the midst of commotion and I savored every bite. The entire meal cost me $2.50. (including a second Singha :)

I brought myself back to my guest house: The Thai Cozy House, which is also the same guest house Dave and I stayed in 3 months earlier. It was a great feeling having spent the first night and the last night of my trip in the same guest house. All I did was fill in between the bookends.

The folowing day was an early morning for my 6.30 am flight to San Francisco through Tokyo. I arrived without incident and Dave picked me up at the airport.

Sigh.........

The Chili Pepper and the Buffalo

2006-01-25T20:57:00.000-08:00

The first thing I did when I stepped off the plane in Bangkok, having arrived from Delhi, was to stop, close my eyes and breathe deep (for those of you expecting a linear blogging time line, sorry to dissapoint). Gone were the thick particulates of soot and dust, gone were the stinging eyes from the Delhi pollution. Bangkok is as western a town as I've experienced in SE Asia, so it was a joy to experience some of the creature comforts of home.

However, as I now sit in Luang Probang, Laos, I realize that I left a part of myself in India. For it's chaos, it's assault on the senses, it's humantiy concentrated - it is a land of indescribable beauty, of life unbounded by preconception, of intense spirituality sitting directly beside intense destitution. It is a land that must be experienced to be believed. Understanding it is another undertaking.

Dave, Govinda and myself in Pai:

My tour of Thailand landed me in Pai, as I mentioned in my previous entry. During this restful, rejuvinating stay, I experienced the requisite "white guy chili pepper episode." I was happily eating my Papaya salad with Dave and Govinda at our favorite curry house, Na's (which has spolied me for Thai food...). As I sat and masticated calmly on my slightly too big for my mouth bite, I felt a quiet crunch. At first I thought nothing of it. Moments later I could feel the heat rising on the whole of my toungue. It was like someone slowly turning the flame of a burner from simmer to "melt anything that dares come near." My feelings moved from slight amusement to slight concern, from uncomfortable to disquieting pain, then from inescable agony to fear. I tried everything, beer, soda water, bread, rice, more papaya salad (bad idea), panang curry, my arm, dave's arm, the chair's arm.. ANYTHING to try and escape this feeling that my tongue and throat were being caused unspeakable harm. In the end I put my forehead down on the table, attempting to ride out this exerpeice through slow breathing, meditation and the practice of watching and feeling the pain without being the pain. After 20 minutes I wiped the tears from my eyes, and assured Dave and Govinda that I was "ok." The residue of this episode continues, however. The next day I felt like I had been drugged. My stomach was a mess, my energy very low and all I wanted to do was sleep (which I did). The next night we went to Na's again, and I had one small taste of the Panang curry, and while my mouth loved it, my stomach had a visceral reaction, indicating that any thoughts I had of eating ANYTHING resembling spice was ill advised. Three days later I could still feel the swelling in my throat as I slurped fruit shakes and Soda waters. And now, two weeks later, I still have a cough that was unleashed by "the chili pepper." My new motto: 'Fear the Pepper.'

Na, the cause of so much pleasure and pain...:

I left Pai with my blood acidity at an all time high, but ready to move it on, move it on. Saying goodbye to Dave and Govinda for the last time, and having extended my trip an additional 3 weeks, I travelled to Chiang Mai where I got a 5 hour minibus to the town of Chiang Kong. The next morning the group that I had met and was travelling with took a boat across the river (and across the border) to the Laos town of Huay Xai. I have heard it said that going to Laos from anywhere is like shifting into first gear. It couldn't be more true. There's no hustle and bustle. The people are kind and move in a quiet, pragmatic, though determined way.

We spent the day in Huay Xai and got a bus the next morning to Luang Nam Tha. This road is renowned as the most difficult stretches in Laos. This is changing slowly, however, as China and Thailand are funding the redevelopment of the road to establish easier trade routes. This being the case, there were lots of bulldozers and earth movers on the trip. About 2 hours into the what would end up being a 13 hour journey we noticed that the driver was stopping to put water on brakes in order to cool them down. We were to find out that this was not because of excessive downhills; the brakes were shot. This being the case, the driver continued to push on, ensuring we never moved out of 1st gear on any downhill, being passed by vehicle or person with the capacity to move over 3 miles per hour. When he did use the brakes, the entire bus shook like a burping exorcism. This harrowed journey lived up to its reputation and we were all relieved to arrive in the sleepy and spread out town of Luang Nam Tha. We spent the next day biking to waterfalls, with incredible vistas of Rice paddies sprinkled with bamboo huts.

Laos Boys:

Laos is a big conglomeration of small villages. It is said that the entire population of the country could fit in one small Bangkok neihborhood. Children are everwhere. The average age of this country HAS to be 9. But the children are self reliant. They do not rely on their parents, they take care of their younger siblings and generally have no shortage of things to keep them occupied... either playing, which you see a lot of, or helping with village tasks.

The following day we took the short ride from Luang Nam Tha to Muang Sing. This is a place bigger than a village but smaller than a town. Within 30 seconds of getting off the converted pickup truck that carried us we were were offered bags of marijuana, opium, and whatever other opiate derivatives exist. Opium is big business in this area (the Golden Triangle of Thailand, Burma and Laos is world renowned for it's Opium harvest). After politly declining all offers for this and an assortment of hilltribe trinkets, we found guest houses and proceeded to book a two day trek to visit and stay with the hill tribes of Laos.

The trek was fantastic. Our guide, Mr. Mai was fluent in English, Laos as well as different hill tribe dialects and gave us an amazing experience. Trekking through the Laos jungle was surreal... plants that I had never seen before, walking quietly up to a meandering river where we soaked our feet. Lunch of sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves and vegetables, cliffs falling off the trail for hundreds of feet with dangling vines creating a curtain through which you could just discern the rock faces. We visited 5 different villages during the trek and stayed with one for the night. We stayed at Sop Ee Kao which is a Akha Pouli village; this opposed to the Akha Pfiai and Hmong villages that we also visited. Sop Ee Kao was an assortment of bamboo huts built on stilts, situated on a beautiful hillside. There were probably 50 or so huts, and it ws difficult to discern who was watching who.. us or them. The vilage is only accessible by trail and I would guess the population was about 250 (with dogs and pigs, about 4000). One side note: THE way one is woken up in Laos is by rooster.. it never fails.. everyplace I have stayed in this country, every morning, roosters start going off at 4am.

Our village for the night:

The chief of the village had died a few days earlier and the family had been recieving visitors for three days. Mr. Mai informed us that we had been invited to dinner by the family. The four or us arrived at dinner at the chief's house were politely seated amongst the other 20 family members in attendence. The chief's younger brother was next in line as chief and had assumed his duties. He ceremoniously brought in his new responisibilites by keeping up his very obvious opium addiction. All night I was seated by him, and he did nothing but smile, heat his opium, smoke it, close his eyes for 20 minutes and then repeat.

For those you that didn't know, the only meat I have been eating for the past 9 months has been seafood.

As we moved around the place mat set on the floor for 7 people, we watched as Water Buffalo, prepared 4 different ways was brought out to us. There was also a bowl of sticky rice. Flush in the overconfidence of my body as a well-oiled machine I proceeded to eat. Ginger Buffalo, dry rub buffalo, barbecue buffalo and buffalo curry. To not eat this would have been rude, as we were the guests of honor, and I have always made clear that my not eating meat was not dogma but practice. No sooner did I place one piece of meat in my mouth than another was placed in my bowl. Coupled with hot tea and many rounds or Lao Lao (Lao rice whiskey... you can get shnockered on this stuff and then take the paint of ANYTHING), the night was very enjoyable.

The person who REALLY runs the show:

We slept on a bamboo platform after each getting a one hour massage from members of the hill tribe (this was an added bonus that none of knew was part of the gig). We awoke (to roosters), and I watched the sunrise as the village came to life with the women crushing rice and the men, generally, watching them. Mr. Mai cooked us the traditional breakfast of noodle soup with vegebtable and it was at this point that I realized that all was not well "down there."

We hiked to within 30 kms of the Burma and Chinese borders and finished our trek at about 4pm back in Muang Sing. The hiking was consistent uphill the first day for 7 hours, and consistent down hill the 2nd day for 5 hours. The villages that we visited made me realize how open a community is when you're essentially living on top of each other. There are few secrets, and there is a resulting calmness and lack of self-conscience that I found reassuring. These people have a well defined life and are very much self-sufficient (though without the women, the men would starve and freeze).

That night I began to hear the rumblings of Intestinal Armageddon. I now refer to this period in my life as "Revenge of the Buffalo." The following two days were spent osciallating between core melt down and Intestinal choir rehearsals. I felt like I had swallowed a mixture of sulfuric acid and razor blades. I pulled through, however, dehydrated but stronger for the experience (?). So, much for my well-oiled machine.

A short ride back to Luang Nam Tha and we were on a bus for Luang Probang. My compatriots opted to get off earler to Nong Khiaw, and I finished this 11 hour bus ride, not able to feel my ass or legs, sitting on the hump covering the transmission just to the right of the driver, in total and complete blissed-out Lao style.

I am now enjoying the comforts of Luang Probang, a beautiful town with fantastic French colonial architecture, great night bazaars, great food (yes, I'm still recovering and have been subsisting on fruit, yogurt, granola and tasty french baguettes) and a vibe akin to Pai and McLeod Ganj. Beautiful walks along the MeKong, great teas, reading, yoga and absorbing.

One view from Luang Probang:

love to all - eb

Thailand... the first two weeks

2006-01-14T20:14:00.000-08:00

okay, so it's been two weeks since my last post, so I figured it was important to get something down to quell the inbox assault.

I have spent the last two weeks in Thailand. The first 5 days in southern thailand in the Krabi area, island hopping, spending new years at a beach bungalow with a cool group of people from France, Denmark (represent), Ireland and Holland. They were all younger than I am, so safe to say that Eben realized that he can't party like he used to... however, he recognized this prior to the party, unlike previous occassions and was able to pull through to sunrise on new years day before getting sleepy.. unlike his compatriots who stayed at the beach party until 6pm the following night.

Switch back from third person to first person: I spent some time on the Railly peninsula that has fantastic limestone cliffs, great for rock climbing, in addition to incredible beaches, diving, snorkeling, and TONS of tourists.

After meandering the west coast of southern thailand for a bit, I took a taxi to the town of Krabi, where I took a minivan to the bus station, where I took a small bus to Sungthat, where I hopped a bigger bus for an overnight trip to Bangkok, arriving at 6am, where I hopped a cab to Bangkok airport, where I bought a ticket for Chiang Mai in northern thailand, departing two hours later. Upon arriving in Chaing Mai I got a cab to the bus station where I than got a local bus for the 4.5 hour trip to Pai where I was stuffed in the back, with packages everwhere around me and tons of people from the local tribes packed in around me. My seat was essentially a piece of plywood covered in cloth. I arrived in Pai, a bit harried where I strapped on my backpack and walked the mile or so to the guest house where I met up with Dave and Govinda... welcome faces to see after travelling on my own for 5 weeks.

My week in Pai was spent going to natural hot springs in the morning watching the sublight burn off the morning mist hanging in the trees, eating incredible fruit, thai salads and curries, creek walking a beautiful river, waterfalls, lying in hammocks sleeping and reading, doing yoga, hiking, and riding my motorbike everwhere. Genereally my thoughts were that Eben + Motobike = bad idea. However, after a few near misses, I got the hang out of it and am now ready to buy a Harley when I get home... Riding a motorbike around northern Thailand has to be one of the great things to do in life... true bliss.

So, with all this hard travelling, I have decided I need to relax, so I have extended my trip another three weeks. I am now planning on returning in early February.

I am in Chiang Mai, northern Thailand, now, awaiting my minivan to take me to Laos. I am planning on being in Laos a week or so, ending in Luang Probang... with the potential of heading to Cambodia and possibly Burma after that.

I hope everyone is happy and healthy. My love to all. -eb

Rajasthan, onto Kerala

2006-01-03T06:42:00.000-08:00

It took a few days... a week, actually, to recover from Rajasthan. With all it had to offer, I found the intensity to be overpowering. Being a man, travelling alone, made me more of target with less of a shield. This seems a bit counter-intuituve, but I believe that while the Indian men may oogle and lear at western women travelling in India, they are less likely to approach them. Being a man, they had no problem in approaching me, sometimes surrounding me, coaxing me to a rickshaw, shop or any other assortment of things. I learned later than I would have hoped that acknowleding you speak English is a questionable decision, saying you're an American was bad and saying you're from California was worse. If you're an American you might as well have 'ATM' tatooed on your forehead. California is home to Baywatch and everything Hollywood, so right off the bat, these folks have plenty to chose from in terms of making coversation. One tactic I picked up was when the quesiton is posed "where you FROM??!?!" the correct answer is "BULGARIA!". They really have no idea how to respond, as no one speaks Bulgarian, and you can then easily pretend you don't understand what they're saying to you in English. I learned this trick to the end of my time in Rajasthan, unfortunately, but I highly recommend it to anyone planning travels to India.

Being a bit short on time, I flew from Udaipur, Rajasthan through Bombay (Mumbai) to Kochi (Cohin), Kerala on the southwestern corner of the subcontinent. I knew as soon as I arrived that I had "arrived." As the plane was descending it was clear blue water and palm trees as far as eye could see. I grabbed a cab (easily and without diress) to Fort Cochin, and old Portugues Fort.

Kerala is as laid back as Rajasthan is in your face. While there were still the cat calls for taxi, rickshaw, guest house, food, etc, they were not as persistent once you made your intentions known.

Kerala is the only democratically elected communist region in the world, so I've been told. It has the highest literacy rate in India as well as one of the highest life expectancies. The poverty, trash and beggars seemed less than other parts of India I visited.

I stayed at a simple guest house with a powerful and loud ceiling fan (well needed) and did almost nothing for three days. I did not realize how much tension I had been holding in my day to day travels the previous few weeks until I was in a place where I could really relax. For three days I slept long, took walks along the coast and read. (okay, day three I also took a Keralan cooking class and saw a Kathakali dance performance (very cool)... those of you that know me, know I'm not the best at doing nothing). Having regained my strength and my mood, I took a bus from Cochin to Appelly where I would board a boat for a backwaters cruise further south. The bus ride was crowded. I had my backpack on my back and my daypack on my front and for two hours I was standing, completly crushed in the mass of humanity that had similar aspritations of travelling to Appelly. I could not turn at all... even as I felt the man behind me's hand reaching into my pocket for my wallet, I could not turn to face him. (I swiftly grabbed his hand and squeezed with everyting I had and I felt a little whimper - message sent)

I realized that I still felt a little tried from the intenstiy of the past month's experiences. After finding a guest house in Appelly, I went in search of some food. I sat down, ordered some fish curry, when a guy came and sat next to me. He introduced himself as Ameer. I kept waiting for him to ask if I wanted to visit his friend's shop, etc, etc, but the question never came. He was a really nice guy, 25 years old, and he was just interested in showing me Appelly. We walked around the immense temple festival that Appelly was holding and then he said he would take me to the beach. We hopped a rickshaw and were there in 15 minutes. We sat on the beach, with some of his friends joining us, sang Christmas carols, I helped them with the words to Hotel California, and they attempted (in vain) to help me with the lyrics to their favorite Indian pop songs. More of Ameer's friends arrived and they started building human pyramids in the sand. They were having a blast and laughing in the sheer joy of building human pyramids on the beach and then crashing down on each other in a giggling heap. After a little while I indicatd to Ameer that it was time for me to go to bed. He immediately grabbed his friend, Shake, and volunteered his services to drive me home. I hopped on the back of his motorbike and was promptly driven to my guest house. With a shake of his hand and a humble thank you, he sped off back to the beach. That night was exactly what I needed to get back on my feet.

The next day I took a 7 hour backwaters boat ride to Amma's ashram at Amritanandamayi. Some of you may have heard of Amma as the 'hugging mother' or the 'hugging saint' She is one of the few female saints in India and her ashram is an amazing place situated between the ocean and the backwaters. There are thousands of devotees that stay there. Amma was just geting back to the Ashram after a trip to Tamil Nadu when I arrived. I got my room in the ashram for 150 ruppees a night ($3). I had two roomates, Haunaman from the Isle de Reunion, close to Madagascar, and Devananda from Germany. Both were wonderful guys and long time devotees of Amma's. They were staying for a few weeks each. Amma's was a wonderful place to spend Christmas. There were people from all over the world there, everyone sharing in the experience of knowing that where we were, was special. There was a short series of Christmas songs before Amma gave her Christmas blessing. I think most people at the ashram had to be told it was Christmas, however it was a beautiful place to be.

Amma's gives her blessings (Darshan) through hugs. She has given over 33 million hugs, and has been known to give hugs for 22 hours straight without getting up, stretching, drinking water or going to the bathroom. To recieve a hug from her is to understand what all the hub-bub is about. It was 'devine.' I spent three days at the Ashram and boarded the boat for the remainder of the journey full of life and gratitude.

I moved from Amma's to the beach town of Varkala and spent two days doing yoga, body surfing, and eating great fish that we picked from the market and gave to the chef. Safe to say, I'm a fan of Kerala. (Ed, you were right: Kerala Rools)

I hopped a flight from Trivundrum (now called Theravarunandapurem... or something close to that... i'm not kidding) to Delhi and returned to old familar: Pahar Ganj. I spent the night in Pahar Ganj, now accostomed to the stinging eyes and stuffy nose of the body acclimatizing to Delhi's pollution. I left the following morning for the Delhi airport en route to Thailand.

As I look back on the last 6 weeks, it seems a blur. I came to India looking for adventure and I found it. I also learned a lot about myself, and the world. India is like no place I have ever visited. I was told that one's time in India is exactly what you make it. Some people will go running away swearing never to return, others will have uncovered something that will lead them to India again and again. I think that I am somwhere in between. India is a very difficult place to travel, but it also holds something incredibly special. India is a place I know that I will return to, but I will look forward to the next trip more afer discovering the trick of telling them you're from Bulgaria.

As for the deeper experiences I had in India... for those you will have to ask me in person.

"Many are terrified of India's unabashed display of our shadow sides and run. I have heard tales of people who stepped off the plane, breathed in her tumult, and got on the next flight home... But she liberates us who stay from the West's insistence on chirpy optimism, which she gently exposes as a lie. India makes you feel in your pores that for every birth there is a death and for every problem solved a new one arises. She is a constant reminder that the ugly is the other side of the beautiful, decay of growth, dirt of cleanliness. In India heaven and hell are not as distant from each other as they can get, one in the skies, the other deep in the earth's bowels, but meet, not as enemies, but as dancers pirouetting in the eternal paux de deux, celebrating the myster... When I persist in pigeonholing life into nicely regulated (and invariably clean) little compartments, India casually tosses my expectations right back in my lap... 'I'm losing my serenity,' I hissed at a bank clerk after having spent all day trying to untangle currency problems which would have taken ten minutes to solve at home... 'Madam,' he answered, 'it takes many years to attain serenity. One does not lose it in a day.'"
- Cheryl Bentley, Enchanted

Poverty, Astrology and Cricket

2006-01-02T04:22:00.000-08:00

If I have found three omnipresent aspects to India they are poverty, astrology and cricket.

The poverty hits you like the pollution in Delhi. In big cities, almost everytime your rickshaw stops there is an assortment of men, women, children, many without limbs, or suffering from some debilitating ailment.... they are very close, asking for ruppees, indicating their need for food moving their fingers from their opposite hand's palm to their lips. At first it is striking; the intensity and magnitude of the number of people you experience in poverty is a shocking assault. It then moves to a hard-to-accept-reality of the day to day existence in India.. Finally it moves to something that you notice and experience, but with a tacit understanding that if you're going to make it outside of your guesthouse past 10am that you have to protect yourself by focusing on other things.

The poverty is of an intensity that you don't see in parts of the western world. Never do you see and over-weight person in poverty in India. You easily see that the poverty that exists is at a level far lower than in developed countries. It is about getting food of any kind on the 'table.' There are no creature comforts.

What accompanies much of the poverty is the trash. Disposal of refuse is not what of India's strongpoints from what I can tell. Some have told me that it is cultural, pulling from the foundations of karma and reincarnation. I have come to think however, that it has more to do with the country's incredible efficieny with which almost every aspect of any trash is utilized. Don't get me wrong, by all accounts I have witnessed, India has a trash problem. Trying to find a trash can anywhere is like trying to find a beer at a tea-totelers' wedding... there just aren't any. However, the cycles that the trash goes through is amazing. There are very few elements of pile of garbage that are not reused in some way in the vast Indian society. I once threw an empty water bottle into a large wheel-barrow that a man was pushing filled with hundreds, neigh, thousands of similar plastic water bottles... as I did, he stopped, put out his hand and demanded "backsheesh!!" (which is Hindi for tip...) I stood a tad dumbfounded, and gave him 5 ruppees... at which point he said what is probably one of 5 English words he knew and said "TEN!!" - I smiled and said "no", laughing at yet another example of a 'request' for backsheesh.

In parts of any city you will find the poor (genearlly lowest caste) going through the garbage and utilizing an amazing portion of that which has been discarded. I was told by a man I befriended that many a person's full living is made by scavanging the useable elements from the trash of others in Indian society. There are entire communitites that exist outside middle class suburbs subsisting only on that neighborhoods' trash. This is done on a more tremendous scale by the lower elements of the "Untouchables" caste known as "Rag pickers"

Following is a quote that I read that I think aptly describes the feeling of being a Westerner in the midst of the poverty and beggars of India. In case you were wondering I am VERY MUCH a westerner, (I realize this provides many of you with a lot of fodder to clog the comments box.. please see my blog re. Rishikesh and enlightenment and then read the comments)):

"This is a place where the mundane becomes eternal, where the visitor has to come to grips with beggars and the meaning of life. What should you do? Does giving encourage? Is it a duty, as the Muslims say? Can you pretend to be Christ? Every time you are approached is unique: you give out of pity, guilt, sometimes love, duty, exasperation, disgust, haste. You finger the wad of rupees in your pocket, wondering about your destiny. Then a filthy beggar boy, whom you've just rejected, smiles at you and melts into the crowd, blessing you in your selfishness. Patterns of thought and belief crumble." - James O'Reilly and Larry Habegger, Merle Haggard and the Ambassador

As for Cricket: everywhere you turn there is a pickup cricket match.. in the night darkened streets of McLeod Ganj, in the litter strewn dirt paths of Jaipur, in the sandy parks of Kochi... if there is a group of boys together, and they are not oogling western women travelers with their "horrified horny" approach, then they are playing cricket. I still can't figure the game out, but it's everwhere...I know there's a "century" something, a "castle", a "half castle", wickets, bats (I think.. that might be my word) and a scoring system that I don't understand that can prolong games up to a week in length. (this should provide good fodder to anyone that complains that football games last too long...)

You pick any Indian paper and it has two things (depending on the day)... Cricket scores and Bollywood updates (think People/Star/Us magazine Indian-style). Indian movies and music has India just stepping it's toe into the waters of western-style entertainment. You will not find a man and woman kissing in any Indian movie, but you will see wonderful displays of overemoting and kitche song and dance romance scenes.

I have also found the wedding classifieds to be humorous... While Indian movies are very much about love and courting and the dynamics of more western relationships, India is still rooted in it's long traditions of arranged marriages and gender roles. Most of the time when I start to get to know someone and I ask how many brothers and sisters they have, their answer only mentions brothers. It was enough to make me think that no one ever had any sisters. The male child is definitely the child of choice. Female infanticide is still very common with 47 girls being born to every 53 men. I believe that things are changing in this regard, but I have been told that it will be a long time before anything resembling gender equality reaches outsdie the biggest cities.

While I am firmly rooted in my belief of a "love" relationship and marriage, I have come to better understand the premise of the arranged marriage, especially when undestanding the role of extended family in India, the respect that children generally have for parent's decisions and discretions and the role that Vedic Astrology plays in any decision. Whether or not two people are a match, what day and what time their wedding is, is very much dependent on the Jyotish or Indian Astrologer (among many things)... that is also why you will find so many wedding on the same day and during a similar time of year (it's not because the flowers are blooming, I assure you.)) Astrology plays a tremendous role in familial decisions that are made in India.

Back to Cricket... another great quote follows:
"Sociologist Ashis Nandy, who has written a book on cricket said, 'It's an Indian game that was mistakenly brought by the British. It's an unpredictable game where the variables are so many, where there are negotiations with fate, and we are playing not with an opponent but with our own destiny. That clicks with the Indian self-conscience, the South Asian way of looking at the world and our own fate.'"

India has been called an impenetrable culture for westerners, and I am beginning to understand why. However, it is that impenetrable aspect that makes it an incredible place to visit. I have determined that you don't vacation in India, you adventure in India. The north is incredibly different from the south, and the east from the west. The spiritual depth of the country begins right at the surface; more than anything else, that is the factor that has made this trip so fascinating.

Rajasthan

2005-12-22T07:38:00.000-08:00

Leaving Amritsar, post wedding proposal, I found myself in an overnight train to Jaipur. In my sleeper train I met a wonderful man, Manohar Singh, from Amritsar. He was a 65 year old Sikh man who specialized in wool fabrics with stores in Amritsar and Jaipur. We talked for hours about India, his business, the US, his disappointment in being able to name the president and Prime Minister of India (since rectified), and his family. He gave me some very explicit warnings to make sure that every person I deal with earn my trust... his warning turned out to be a very important piece of advice that I wish I had listened to more fervently.

His 'serveant' (something that I'm still getting used to) came in a set up dinner for us. I was told that I must dine with him on the train, in our cabin. We were served a wonderful meal of vegetable curry, spinach and chapathis. It was a great experience. Later that night two more older couples joined us in our cabin (three bunk beds, facing each other). I "fell asleep" to the sounds of 5 very nice, welcoming, farting, snoring and hacking Sikhs. I awoke multiple times, one of which to a man scoping my bag, clutched in my arms (everyone, including me, locks their bags while in the train; their are multiple stops during the night).

We arrived in Jaipur midmorning and I made my way to my pre-chosen guest house. I found Rajasthan to be a beautiful area. The colorful and sometimes tremendously large turbans on the men and the elgantly flowing saris on the women make for frequent head turning. I spent two nights in Jaipur and visited a few forts, the city palace as well as the world's largest sun dial (check that off the list; "wally world, dad") In general I found Jaipur to be another large Indian city. Dirty, dusty, overpowering pollution; various fragrances mixing onion and garlic, sweat, urine and incense; and masses of humanity that defy description.

I found the people to be very aggressive in attempting to sell me everything, including their opinion (I am assured hundreds of times that looking is free). I hired a taxi for 4 days to drive me around Rajasthan, as I thought this a more effective way of seeing the area. (and only slightly more expensive). My driver, Sonny, was the "cousin" of a rickshaw driver that I had head earlie and liked. Unfortunately, the liking diidn't transfer on this side of the family... I am dubious of the relation, but that aside, one of his first questions to me was "are you married?" to which I answered "no." He then asked how many girlfriends I have had... and before I even came close to registering the question, he told me he had had 65 girlfriends... He then proceeded to point out three different brothels in quick succession... Things were deteriorating quickly...

Rajasthan is beautiful desert country. It was very different from the mountains of of the Himalyas and the rolling hills in Haridwar. Riding in a 'taxi' gave me the opportunity to see the countryside much more intimately... We went from Jaipur to Pushkar that I had heard much about. I found a nice guest house and walked around for a few hours, only to be completely overwhelmed by the thousands of "HALLOW SIR!!! HALLOW MY FRIEND!!!"'s... I have found that being a man, and travelling along makes me not only a much bigger target but it also gives me a much smaller shield. The people are the most aggressive I have experienced in India... At one point I came to the conclusion that if someone was talking to me, then they were lying. I have backed off this conslusion, but only a bit. Rajasthan shas been the most difficult part of the trip thus far to the point where I have, at points, dreaded walking out on the streets, as I know I have to put up a shield of direct dimissal. While the shield helps in maintaining sanity, I know it also blocks out some experiences I would enjoy.

Pushkar is a beautiful town, though very touristy. My first night, my driver convinced me to come with him to his friend's guest house for dinner. I went and met a nice aussie named Scott and we had a couple beers and shared stories. My driver came out about 2 hours later, completely housed on rum. I told him I was going back to my room, and he grabbed me demanded that I allow him to drive me back. I told him, in no uncertain terms, no-way. He then proposed that I drive... While there was no way that I would get in the car with him, I think there is less of a chance that I would ever want to drive in India.. it scares the crap out of me... I ended up walking back to my guest house and giving my driver a stern talking to the next morning... While in Pushkar I had a 2 hour Tabla (Indian Drum) lesson (followed by a hard sell on some "very nice, pefect for me, very good price" drums, which I declined) After that I followed a trail out of town and had a nice two hour sunset hike up to a Savitri temple (Brahaman's first wife). It was a welcome respite to look down on the small town of Pushkar and clear my head. I found my experiences to be physically and spiritually debilitating.

My experiences in Rajasthan this far me to decide to skip Johdpur and Jaislameer and go straight to Uddaipur.... Uddaipur saved Rahasthan for me. It's a beautiful town on a shimmering lake with mountains on the horizon. The people are more mellow here, and the general vibe was less predatory. It's a gorgeous town with lots of forts and temples (suprise). I treated myself to a nice dinner (meaning over $5) as I gazed out at the Lake Palace hotel that my mother had stayed at 45 years earlier. Cheers, mom. Oh, and I ordered a Gin Fizz in honor of Dad.. cheers dad.

The next day was an early morning flight from Uddaipur to Mumbai (Bombay), and then on to Kochi, Kerala (southern India) for some decompression.

I have found that India completely defies description, classification and generalization. Everytime I feel I have a something nailed down, I turn around and have an experience epitomizing the exact opposite. India exhilerates, exhausts, expounds, pushes, caresses, pulls you down, breaks you and then lifts you back up, better than before; then it repeats.

I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. My Christmas description will come in my next post. Rama Rama Ding Ding.

-eb

Leaving McLeod Ganj, Amritsar and Jaipur

2005-12-16T10:32:00.000-08:00

So, McLeod lasted longer than expected.. What a wonderful place... There were a number of westerners that I became close too.. Many there studying buddhism, others doing research for anthropology theses on Tibetans living in refuge.. still others doing pretty close to nothing.. which I think I admire the most... everyone has their wonderful stories... there's a certain energy of backpackers that bring you together quickly... you have so many experiences on a day to day basis, and meeting other backpackers gives you an opening to tell your story and hear other's stories... it's a natural attraction and it's good to experience it again... I stayed in McLeod longer after Dave left due to my desire to see and hear the Dalai Lama... I am very glad I did.. seeing the Dalai Lama and hearing him was more moving than I anticipated.. When I first set eyes on him, I was spellbound...captivated.. not by anything in particular, but by the energetic prescence he had.. it was very strong and yet overpoweringly gentle. He is a beautiful, warm, shining light... and listening to his teachings was wonderful... it was a 5 day teaching, and though I only went to one day it was well worth the extra 4 day stay in McLeod Ganj. The teaching was on the Boddhitsatva (sp?) and I took notes furiously.. "displace the self cherishing mind with cherishing for all sentient beings through compassion; generate compassion rather than attachment; exchange the self for others: the very factor in achieving buddhahood" - it was a great experience.

I was originally going to stay for the full teaching, but then realized that I was getting comfortable in McLeod Ganj after a week, and that wasn't why I came to India.... I longed to challenge myself again, travelling in what is considered a very difficult country to travel in... and challenge myself I have.

Tuesday morning, 3am, alarm goes off (only to find out later that my clock is 25 minutes fast).. time to get up to catch my 4pm bus from McLeod Ganj to Dharamsala, in order to catch my 5am bus from Dharamsala to Amritsar. Being in a small Indian town at 3.30am, alone with only the quiet groans of the cows on the small streets, as your cloud of breath in the cold hangs for what seems minutes, is a surreal experience...I could see the faint outline of the mountains by the quickly descending moon...

The bus ride consisted of me with four layers on, a wool hat, hood pulled over the hat and a wool blanket pulled over everything.. there was frost on the inside of the windows... Imagine your grade school bus from x years ago.. and now imagine that the same bus had been trudging the hills and potholes of northern India/Himalyas for those x years and you have an idea of the bus... Before getting on, I climbed up to the roof of the bus and secured my and Megan's (my travelling companion to Amritsar) backpacks... The bus moved at breakneck speeds around the mountain roads as I once again blended my mix of prayer and non-attachment (to my life)... I've been cold most of the time I've been in McLeod Ganj... the temperature in my guest house getting into the high 30's some nights - and I also admit to my own tolerance for the cold being at an all time low (thank you, california) - however, the bus ride from Dharamsala to Amritsar was frigid... (all of you talking about how hot India is have no idea what you're talking about).

The bus vacillated between completely packed, 3 to a seat grammar school-style, to nearly empty as it was also used as a commuter bus... The arrival in Amritsar was 'interesting.' 5 minutes before we arrived about 10 folks got on with it being quickly obvious that they weren't there for a ride.. one guy immediately sat next to Megan and I and asked if wanted a rickshaw to our hotel.. we said we did and got him from 100 ruppees down to 20.. (we knew how far our guest house was.. but even if we didn't 20% of initial offer is a pretty good benchmark). We arrived at the bus station with our rickshaw driver leading us off the bus... I quickly got to the back of the bus and climbed the ladder to the roof and as I unlocking the bags I watched as our rickshaw driver became engaged in a shouting match, then a shoving match, then fist fight with another man.. a huge crowd encirled them as it erupted, and I feel like I had the box seats as I stood ontop of a large bus looking down on this scene unfolding.. it was a real fist fight.... as we came to learn there's a rivalry between the auto rickshaw drivers and the bicycle rickshaw drivers... this autorickshaw driver apparently didn't like the fact that this lowly bicycle rickshaw driver had nabbed two of the only westerners they were likely to see all day... I guess it's kind of like the Cryps versus the Bloods.. only in India.

Amritsar is 30kms from the Pakistan border and is home to the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple (or GT, as I like to put it) is the holiest site to the Sikh people... it is essentially the Sikh equivalent to the Muslim's Mecca. They have large facilites to house the thousands of Pilgrims that come every day. They also have a part of the facilities that house western tourists, free of charge.. as I was to find out, though I paid no money for the room, it was not free.

Megan and I put our bags in the room and started wandering around the city... There were almost no westerners that we saw... For the first time (in India) I really felt like a freakshow. Not a single rickshaw or chai-walla, or street vendor passed us without at least some sort of stare. I started playing with my personal energy in determining how best to dismiss advances of all kinds without being mean. (which in some cases is the ONLY way to be left alone).... a typical interaction: "HALLO MY FRIEND.. HALLO MY FRIEND.. HALLO. SIR!... HALLOOWWW!"... finally, I begrudingly look in the person's direction and am immediately bombarded with whatever it is that this person wants me to give him money for. (many times it's nothing as the beggars and children manytime outnumber the vendors)... I then say "no..no.. no thank you..".. they persist.. HALLO!!! SIR!!! ... if the interaction gets more intense, I start saying NO more firmly... and have to sometimes stop, look the person directly in the eye and say "NO!.. GO AWAY!!!!"... to which the person backs off a little and inevitably says: "OK...... PLEASE?" I believe that part of what makes this coutry so exhausting to travel in is the countless interactions described above.

Amritsar is warmer than McLeod, (thank Shiva) so it was nice to walk around the town, grab lunch and then head to the train station to get tickets for the following day (an experience in itself.... a highly structured operation of inefficiency).. after getting my overnight ticket to Jaipur we headed back and got a shared jeep to the Pakistan border to watch the highly theatrical closing of the border...Megan and I were in what was about the size and shape of a Jeep Cherokee with 13 other people. It was a riot. An hour later, with my backside and feet asleep, we arrived at the border for a very dramatic ceremony.. There are stands set up on either side of the border so that Pakistanis as well as Indians can watch the ceremony that happens every night... There is a lot of flag waving, shouting and soldiers that doing tremendously high kicking, all in the very serious task of outdoing the other country.. It was great to see...and Megan and I agreed that the Pakistanis seemed to have their act together a bit more than the Indians.

That night, we were dropped off at what we thought was the Golden Temple, but alas the driver conveniently dropped us off at another temple that looked like the golden temple so that he didn't have to drive as far... We eneded up walking into the small alleyways of Amritsar at 8pm at night and it was awesome.. the town really comes alive at night.. the fabric stalls were endlesss and beautiful with garments hanging everywhere with lights painting walls beautiful colors as they shown through the fabrics... we were seeing how business was really done.. and as before we were the only westerneres we saw all night.. more than that.. Megan was the only woman on the streets.. the streets were packed with people and they were all men...needless to say if we got looks and stares beforehand, we got even more that night.

We found our way back to guest house... I had been told that we would have a badass Sikh guard with a sword and a menacing stare to police our living space. (I was excited about this). To my disappointment, there was no sword, and no menacing stare.. though he did have a comfortable chair and a cell phone with a number of tremendouly annoying ringtones. It took him hours to figure out which one to settle on.... In addition there was a flouesent light highly situated outside the room that shown through a high window and illuminated the entire space all night... I woke up many times thinking it had to be at least 10am due to the thousands of Pilgrim too excited to sleep. I ended up plying myself up at 5.30am after 3 hours of sleep in search of chai.

The Temple is a big complex that surrounds a beautiful lake and in the middle of the lake is a tremendous, well, golden temple. It's gorgeous. I mentioned the pilgrims, and there are a lot of them.. The GT also provides free meals to all pilgrims that are hungry (3X a day).. the serve over 30,000 meals a day. Megan and I went in and sat down crosslegged on a staw mat as a part of hundreds of others all sitting in multiple lines, stretching across the huge concrete floor. Servers were constantly coming by with Curried Dahl (lentils), Chapatis and rice.. it was delicious and a treat to be able to share this experience with thousands of my new boisterous housemates.

Amritsar is a cool town. It's big with Sikhs being the vast majority of the population, for obvious reasons, and feel like I was able to see how it really operated. My biggest impression was the lack of women on the streets, especially when compared to the other towns I have seen. I'm not sure if it's due to the Sikh religion and great oppression of women, Amritsar's close proximity to Pakistan (a Muslim state), or a mixture of both... it definitely stood out.

My train left at 4.30pm, 2 hours late....however that 2 hours gave me the opportunity to meet a wonderful family that was seeing their daughter and grandmother off to visit some other family. I became fast friends with their 9 year old, Nikihl. He helped me practice my Hindi, and I helped him with his English, including, but not limited to, "high five!!", "hang loose" and the the lyrics that I know to "gettin' jiggy with it" - through the course of my interaction with Nikihl, the mother decided that I would make a good match for her daughter and cordially offered me her hand in marriage. I politely declined. (sorry, mom)

The overnight train took me to Jaipur, Rajasthan where I am now in my second night.. Being in the desert is great. (and warmer)... I have hired a taxi who will take me to Pushkar, Jodhpur and Uddaipur (all in Rajasthan), prior to my flight from Uddaipur to Kerala (southernmost region of India...). I will be in Kerala for Christmas. (think: warm beaches, lazy boat rides, yoga)

Ahhhhhhh.... McLeod Ganj

2005-12-08T01:09:00.000-08:00

Alright... so no better way to start off a post than with a joke... I think of this joke frequently being in this incredible town of McLeod Ganj....so: what's the difference between Mick Jagger and a Scottish sheep herder? Answer: One says "hey you, get off of my cloud" the other says "hey McLeod!!! Get off of my ewe!!!!!"

One realization I have had while in India is that the best place to study hatha yoga is right in our backyards. I had heard this before coming, but as I hung out in the yoga capital yoga of the world (Rishikesh) I truly realized and experienced the broader world of yoga, simply defined as any practice that brings you closer (union) with a higher power or higher truth. This coul be Kriya, Bhakti, Karma, Jnana, Sabdha, etc...The yoga that we know in the west (hatha) is only one construct of bringing us deeper into ourselves. from my perspective, hearing this and knowing it while living in San Francisco is one thing, but to be experiencing this and be in the presence of people that are living these different forms of yoga on a minute to minute basis is quite another....once again, cheers to the beginniner mind.

The view off my balcony at sunset:

I heard stories of people arriving in McLeod Ganj, planning on staying 2 days and staying 2 months. So, we planned on staying two nights and tonight will be my fifth. McLeod Ganj is home to the largest group of Tibetan refugees in the world. It is about 100 miles from the Tibetan border in the middle of the himalyas at about 6K feet. The views from everywhere in this town are either looking up at tremndous peaks, or down gorgous valleys into the vast plains below. Here is a view off my Balcony at the end of a sunset with crescent moon and Venus.

The Tibetan people are beautiful. I see more Tibetans here than Indians on a day to day basis, and there are many monks. The Dalai Lama's residence is here and it's a beautiful temple. I hoped to get an audience with him while I was here, but alas, the waiting list is long. As I walk down the narrow alleys in this mountain town, there are tibetan prayer flags everwhere, Buddha's everywhere, pictures of the Dalai Lama in every store, restaurant, bus station that you visit. There is a sparkle in the eyes of the people here... something difficult to describe in text, but you can feel real compassion when you look into their eyes... and you feel this while also knowing the incredibly brutal hardship they have gone through, many of them here in McLeod Ganj with everything else that they have ever known back in Tibet (family, friends, etc), with no way of communicating. It is a pleasure and a joy to be staying in this community.

There are a lot of westerners here.. and we have met a few that we have hung out with on a regular basis.. we even got a home cooked meal of pasta a veggies with a delicious Kashmiri spinach with cardomon and tumeric. We also found that they serve beer, so I had my first beer in 2.5 weeks. (i know, i know.. some of you wondered if I could make it...) I think I was burning off my beer karma.... unfortunately, I think I've got a few lifetimes of that to go... Which always leads me back to one of my favorite quotes/rationalizations by our beloved Benjamin Franklin: "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy"

the opposite view from the balcony:

Dave and I split up tonight with him heading back to Delhi. I am off to Amritstar, Punjab tomorrow, and then a 16 hour train south to Pushkar and Udaipur, Rajastan. From there, I am planning on going to Bombay, then further south for some beach and sun and undoubtably more bhakti, in Goa and Kerala. My cup runneth over.

On that note, and without proofreading, I bid you adieu. more to come soon, I promise.

Back to Delhi, Haridwar and Rishikesh

2005-11-30T08:02:00.000-08:00

We left Vrindavan a few days ago, a bit sad to be leaving, but knowing it was a wonderful place to jump in... We took a cab to Delhi, which was just a tad more expensive then the bus, but infinitely more comfortable. My previous comments about the driving held true, as expected; another thing to realize is that the lane markers on the streets are just for fun... or to give people some work to do - not a single person, car, bike, motorcycle, rickshaw or truck gives a shite and these including the supposed double yellow. I have witnessed myself in more than a few games of chicken wtih large trucks only to close my eyes at the point where someone drives off the berm (sp?) of the road. Saddly, Larry's influence really is everwhere.

By the time we made it through the rush hour traffic getting into delhi, my lungs were thoroughly coated with smog particulates. (pop, I think I have the black lung...) A quick night in Delhi (pahargang) and then off to Haridwar. This is a change of plans and dave and I decided that a 14 hour overnight bus trip on a 20 year old school bus into the mountains on sketchy roads was not in our best interest. So, off to haridwar we go...

The ride from Delhi to Haridwar was pretty good (comfortable bus) but long (it was supposed to take 4 hours, but it took 8. note to self: never take a bus from Delhi to Haridwar during the sugar cane harvest). Traveling in this country is truly exhausting, if not the dust and pollution than the harrowing rides on lawless streets; and if not that, than the general overwhelm of being in a country to utterly different from your own. Dave is making this trip a real adventure and learning for me. He has great background and history of many Hindu traditions, the dieties and their incranations, and many ceremonies.

In Haridwar we stayed at the Hotel Teerth, right on the Ganges and had a balcony overlooking the river, with a large swath of people selling all sorts of articles from mala beads to plastic containers to be able to take water from the Ganges back home with you. (kind of like visiting Lake Erie). Haridwar is a big tourist destination as it's considered a very holy city. Many people make the pillgrimage here to bathe in the Ganga and the majority of people I have seen here are Indian tourists.

One nightly ritual here in Hardiwar is Arti on the Ganga. A truly memorable experience; a very moving expression of sites of sounds and of smells. The ceremony involves placing a banana or tobacco leaf boat filled with flowers and and a candle on the river and saying prayers/blessings. There is a great deal of chanting, and music during the ceremony and it takes place every night. It was a great experience of the beauty and significane of the daily rituals associated with hinduism. Again, dave and I were some of the only westerners there amongst thousands of Indians. I had a bindi of 4 colors placed on my forehead during the ceremonies and then by little girl giving them for 10 rupees.

We stayed in Haridwar a few more days duing which we took a skyway up into the mountains to a temple. Otherwise we've done a lot of wondering. I'm getting used to the stares, as much as you can. Seeing the many handicaped/crippled people here is overwhelming - from lepers to men covered in boils to numerous children, men and women missing limbs. At one point is was all I could do to hold it together till I got to the hotel room. Yet another reminder to be here now. Every day here is a new experience of sinking into this world.

So, now we're now in Rishikesh, the self proclaimed world center for yoga. We took an 8 person Rickshaw the 30 km here yesterday. The town is beautiful, snuggled amongst the mountains along the Ganges. The river is flowing very quickly here with lots of rocks and boulders. There are also plenty of places to play in the river, sit and listen, etc..

I had a wonderful day today... got a haircut and beard trim/shave and head and face massage... all for a total of $2. then I got some antibiotics for my ear (75 cents), then I met Dr.Demani... a nice 70 year old man who specializes in the healing arts through gems and crystals.. he and I talked for 3 plus hour, had chai.. he talked about the many paths to enlightenment.. he looked at me for the first 30 seconds and said "you do a lot of hatha yoga, as I can see your body constitution is very balanced.. but you're not enlightended."

Dr. Demani:

Soo... okay... I never really thought as to whether or not I am enlightened... I never thought of it in such binary terms, as in you are or you aren't.. i've always seen it as a process. (god bless the beginner mind). Either way, it was a good lead into your long conversations... discussing the trumukti, hindu phiosophy, non-dualism, krishna versus shiva, the nature of a sadhu, scripture, mantra, gurus, etc. I really enjoyed it, though I could only understand about every second word..but somehow I knew that what I was picking up was what I was supposed to pick up. He lives in a tiny room right off a dirt path in Laxman Juhl (the area of Rishikesh where dave and I are staying). He is a beautiful man living a simple life with incredible knowledge, experience and wisdom; a joy to speak with.

I plan on being here at least a few more days. This is a very peaceful town and I plan on exploring more ashrams over the next few days. From here we're gonig to head up to Dharmasala. One thing to note... it's cold in this town at night ... Dave and I each have multiple blankets and a space heater at night (though we're too scard to keep it on all night... let's just say it wouldn't pass US safetey inspections...) The days are warm, though not hot (which is a good thing, because as we know, ebie don't do hot weather)...

more to come... btw, your postings are hilarious.. keep 'em comnig.

Delhi, Vrindaban and Agra

2005-11-24T21:25:00.000-08:00

The flight on Air India from Bangkok to Delhi put us in at 10pm. While the experience of getting on another plane was not exactly what I would have chosen, all things being equal, it was moderately painless and uneventful. The Bollywood films they played on the flight reminded me of where it was we were going.

We got into Delhi at 10pm at night on Saturday. Having heard numerous stories of the "tauts" that have hundreds of scams in which they will attempt to separate you for your money, my guard was up. Dave, howerer, had been through this before. The first quote we got for our cab ride was 900 rupees, and the second 450... so we went with the second only to find that a reasonable fare wouldn't have been over 250. Regardless, we got a cab to Pahargang in Delhi. It's defintely the backpacker hangout and it felt like being in a mix of Bladerunner and Mad Max only from the 1920's. It's also where one of the bombs went off a few weeks ago, I was to find out (sorry, mom).... I was throoughly overwhelmed by dust, congestion, foreign smells, sights, languages, culture, etc.. you name it...but the hotel (Hotel Relax) was quick and welcome sanctuary.. We sleptwell and hard, and woke up and did a nice practice and sit. It was also a good first experience for setting accomodation expectataions.

The next morning I looked out the window to see the streets teaming with people, cow's, rickshaw, both motorized and not, motorbikes, buses, trucks, produce stands, chai houses, and LOTs of humanity. It was enough to not get run over, save the steaming cow dung. We spent the day running around Delhi checking things out, and then my friend Nav picked us up.. he's a friend from work (err.... old work) who is over visiting his family for a few weeks. He took as around and showed us parts of Delhi we never would've seen otherwise.. We then went to his parent's house in the suburbs of Delhi. It was a very nice place in one of many newly built highrises. One thing I found striking was how the commercialization and consumerism is gripping the Delhi suburbs... there were horrible traffic jams on a Sunday all because of people trying to get to the malls. Nav's parent's took us to a wonderful dinner at "The Kebob Factory". I however, crashed in the middle of dinner.. it was ALL I could to keep my eyes open.... damn jet lag (and that scotch before dinner... thanks Nav :) We slept at Nav's parents house that night...

The next day we went back into Delhi and then to the Ghandi Ashrams' Khadi store (home spun cotton).. it was beautiful and I a couple bits of clothing and a wool blanket... we then had a harrowing rickshaw ride to the bus terminal (praying comes in handy in these moments, I have found), trying to catch a bus to Vrindavan (Krishna's birthplace). We soon found that "you can't get there from here." So we took a local bus tothe "other" train station and then hopped a bus for Vrindavin.... 4hours later, not being able to feel my legs, cramped in one seat withmy pack and hordes of people around me, we made it to Mathara and then hopped a rickshaw for the 10 kms to Vrindavan. I never knew rickshawacould offrode, but this one did (and had to if it was going to get us through to Vrdindavan).

Once we arrived we found out a festival was going on so it took us 2+ hours and lots of walking to find a place to stay... However, like a number of expereinces I have had since then, we found ourselves beautifully taken care of. This time it was by a woman from the states named Mahadevi. She now lives in Vrindaban and she called soe places she knew and secured us a ride to the Ananda Krishna Van ashram which had rooms avaialble.

Vrindavan is an amazing place. We're approaching our 4th night here. It is the most devotional place I have ever experienced. Everywhere are Sadus, Krishna devotees and temples (large and small). It is the birthplace of Krishna and is considered the Hindu Jerusalem. It is also the base of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (also known as the Hare Krishnas...see photo below). Eveyone greets everyone with Hare Krishna or Hare Bol...Over the past few days we have walked along the Yamuna river for hours at a time, rarely seeing another westerner. I kept asking the numerous store owners if they carried Prada, but to no avail.

If you like to learn more about Vrindaban, check out this series from NPR and National Geographic. This will give you a sense of what we're experiencing:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4980453

Yesterday we did a day trip to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. It is as beautiful as everyone says it is... a very good trip.

I am in the midst of a world the likes I have which I have never experienced. While Delhi was a very cool experience and an assault on the senses, it is a big city, and has that energy. Vrindvan is different.. it is a small town.I have been walking up and down the main streets and side streets; approaching temples and being invited in to take part in the numerous kirtans and ceremonies that happen on an almost continuous basis. We originally planned on staying in Vrindaban two nights and we are now on our fourth. I feel that I am sinking into the energy of this town and soaking up a world completely foreign to what I have known. It feels wonderful.

In general I have found the people beautiul and kind and I sense a collective consciousness here that is almost indescribable. It's a calm sense among the people, that they are all apart of one great truth, and whatever manifests for one person implies on the other. A simple example would be traffic... The traffic here is nuts. It seems that everyone has taken a page out of Larry Rosenshein New York City driving style of one foot on the gas and the horn being substituted for the brake whenever possible. After my 100th near miss, I started to feel that this collective consciousness was at work... like people are guided through traffic in a chaotic pattern that simply works; more broadly, like everyone has given up a part of their individuality for the greater good.... like holding onto your own life a little looser so that the collective can help guide you.... This is very much how I'm feeling... I have seen myself overwhlemed simply by breathing deep and closing my eyes. The experience thus far has been more beautiful and meaningful than I imagined.

Tomorrow we are back to Delhi to catch a 14 hour overnight bus ride north to Dharamsala, home to the Dalai Lama in the Himalayas.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. love and blessings...

Bangkok to Delhi

2005-11-21T05:09:00.000-08:00

The flight was long, as expected but uneventful. The 10 hour flight convinced me there is a new type of movie called "made for airplanes" - too awful for theaters of television... but good enough to show to a group of people with no escape (save alcohol and sarcasm). You don't have to listen, but you end up watching anyway, wondering what the dialog is...okay... it wasn't that bad, but I do think there is a niche market here for poor filmakers aspiring for mediocrity.

I can now say I've had sushi in Japan. It was the airport in Tokyo but it will do for now.. check.

We arrived into Bangkok late on Friday night and caught a cab to Ko Saun Road (the backpacker hangout in Bangkok) and our hotel, The Thai Cozy House. After a nice walk and some late night grub we got some well needed sleep. The room brought the word efficiency to mind, but it was clean and quiet. (though windowless). The next morning was all about our tickets to Delhi. We ended up flying out at 6pm that night as it was significantly cheaper. So with the half day we had, we meandered the streets of Kosaum, ate delicious pad thai off the street (made right in front of us over a charcoal fire), sipped a singha and got a 1 hour Thai massage for a grand total of $4.

6pm flight to Delhi with anticipation in tow...

Ready...

2005-11-17T09:51:00.000-08:00

It amazes me how much time and effort it takes to get your belongings to a level where you can fit them into a small satchel to throw on your back.

My first attempt was much easier: a loin cloth, a rice bowl and truckload of pepto bismal.

After careful contemplation I decided that a second attempt was in order. I have a small pack, and taken the tack that everything I could potentially need, especially clothing, can be gotten in over there. Don't get me started on clothing. Some may argue that I should pack every bit of clothing I own and burn it in a ceremony on a beach in Thailand. Interesting...

Dave and I leave at 1pm today from SFO to Bangkok through Tokyo. Through my careful estimation, I have determined that we should arrive in Bangkok sometime before Christmas.

I am filled with the anticipation of experiences yet to be experienced. More from the other side of the planet...