I breathed a huge sigh of relief upon leaving Rishikesh since I got out alive. The four people I spent the most time with while I was there literally couldn't leave. They kept changing their travel plans because the magnetic forces were too strong.
My first stop after Rishikesh was Haridwar, where a friend from my Great Freedom course had spent over a year. There was an ashram with a university, which was absolutely amazing. The ashram was founded by a guy named Gurudev (one of many men that go by that name) who believed in completely transforming the world, beginning with India. He didn't believe in dowries, which promotes practices like female infanticide because families just can't afford to give the husbands families so many gifts. So every day at the ashram there are over 20 "propper weddings" as they call it, as an alternative, where couples get married without a dowry and the ashram actually gives the man's family a contribution themselves.
The ashram is very scientific and gives alternative medical treatment for free for both mental and physical disorders. There are "laboratories" that hook people's brains up to wires to see if the manditory meditation each day and herbal remedies are making the person calmer and healthier. That part freaked me out. (http://www.awgp.org/, http://www.dsvv.org/)
There is also a university that is joined to the ashram where spiritual music plays twice a day and all the students gather outside in the gorgeous campus for meditation. There is a master's degree in journalism being offered there for $700 a year!!!! I met up with friends of a friend who conduct fire ceremonies at the university with cow maneur and cow ghee that is supposed to heal. Later, when applying the ash from the ancient ceremony to my stomach since I was feeling ill, I realized how out there I have truely become. (Don't worry I have extra cow dung ash if any of you are interested.)
From Haridwar, I've been traveling way too much...to Delhi, Cochin, Kumily where my bus broke down on a highway and I was the only foreigner/woman/one carrying a shit load of conspicuous backpacks in the middle of the night. Luckily I always meet people to help me. A man carried my bag for me and accompanied me on my journey, warding off many stares of "who the hell is this chick?" It was great to have someone else claim the heavy load instead of heaving it myself. In Kumily I arrived to a luxorious room, thankful to be alive with my belongings. Now I'm in a mountainous community in India called Kodaikanal. It's frigging awesome. I just had homemade chocolate for like 30 cents. Tomorrow, meeting my old friends from the ashram in time for the "feast" to celebrate the graduation of some yoga teachers who just finished my training. And I'm wondering, if I continue to write in this blog from the states, do I need to change the title? Best wishes, Julie
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Rishikesh
My time in Rishikesh is coming to an end. Each day I have been attending a course called "Great Freedom" (http://www.greatfreedom.org/), which ironically took up almost all the hours of the day and I wasn't "free" to do hardly anything else. Naahhh...I still had good food and met awesome people and saw the beauty of this place. Like other cities by the Ganges River, there was a spiritual vibe. This is where the Beatles came in the 60s and stayed at an ashram that is still preserved. The city's special vibration forced many people that I spoke to, to look in the mirror and face emotions like loneliness, fear, anger, etc. At least that was my experience and that of others I spoke to. My course sorta helped work through those things and be FREE!!!
Now I'm off to explore the south of India again and say goodbye to friends I made at the ashram. My scheduled arrival is April 24th back to Nueva York. Perty crazy. Well, the world keeps on turning and somehow I suspect that I'll be back to this part of the world.
Now I'm off to explore the south of India again and say goodbye to friends I made at the ashram. My scheduled arrival is April 24th back to Nueva York. Perty crazy. Well, the world keeps on turning and somehow I suspect that I'll be back to this part of the world.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
India take 2
Sigh...India...
I was glad that I spent my final days in Thailand relaxing at my cousin's house, enjoying my hot showers and western toilets with toilet paper, because I aint gonna be getting much of that here. I was averaging 100-300 pages of Shantaram a day. I didn't want to lug that huge ass book with me to India. I have enough to carry.
Arriving to the Bangkok airport to check in for my flight, it wasn't difficult to tell which counter was forIndia. There was mostly men pushing huge carts of potato sack covered packages and huge disorderly lines. On the plane I went to the bathroom and broke out in a huge smile and dance because there was already bhangra music playing on board. Taking my seat, I found myself next to a fat smelly drunk man who downed 4 beers and a glass of wine on our short flight. He kept pressing the bell and light for stewardess to come and barked at them to give him another. He asked me if I was married. Of course I am.
Arriving at the Calcutta airport there were already two women sleeping on cardboard boxes in the bathroom. I took a cab to the one tourist spot in town, which is called "Sudder Street." I saw the cafe where I was supposed to meet my friend Ben, and went there with all my stuff. I felt immediately at home. I took out my many books and ordered a mango lassi and honey ginger lemon tea, both of which were incredible. Ben came shortly thereafter. It turned out that he did a great meditation course in the town of Bodgaya, where Buddha achieved enlightenment under a tree. He met lots of cool people at the retreat who were all coming in and out of the cafe all the time and sat with us. I really felt like we were at Leopolds in our own version of Shantaram.
The parallels continued in Varanasi. I never would have felt comfortable following a "guide" around town if I hadn't seen how much the protagonist of Shantaram gained from his relationship to Prabu. My guide was called "Tota" meaning parokeet in Hindi, because apparantly some people thought he looked like a bird. He brought me to Hindu and Nepalese temples, showed me how to make an offering to the goddess Durga for the holiday of Nivrathri. He showed me the clothing factory where he and others hand sew saris, blankets and scarves. The owner of the factory became irrate when he discovered I didn't want to spend massive amounts of money, but that comes with the territory.
Varanasi and Rishikesh, where I am now, are two of the holiest places I've ever visited in my life. Being by the ganges river and seeing people bathe in it, pray, participate in pujas, dodge cows and monkeys wherever I go...well, I can't do it justice here at this internet cafe so I won't even try. I'm looking forward to seeing many of you again at the end of April.
I was glad that I spent my final days in Thailand relaxing at my cousin's house, enjoying my hot showers and western toilets with toilet paper, because I aint gonna be getting much of that here. I was averaging 100-300 pages of Shantaram a day. I didn't want to lug that huge ass book with me to India. I have enough to carry.
Arriving to the Bangkok airport to check in for my flight, it wasn't difficult to tell which counter was forIndia. There was mostly men pushing huge carts of potato sack covered packages and huge disorderly lines. On the plane I went to the bathroom and broke out in a huge smile and dance because there was already bhangra music playing on board. Taking my seat, I found myself next to a fat smelly drunk man who downed 4 beers and a glass of wine on our short flight. He kept pressing the bell and light for stewardess to come and barked at them to give him another. He asked me if I was married. Of course I am.
Arriving at the Calcutta airport there were already two women sleeping on cardboard boxes in the bathroom. I took a cab to the one tourist spot in town, which is called "Sudder Street." I saw the cafe where I was supposed to meet my friend Ben, and went there with all my stuff. I felt immediately at home. I took out my many books and ordered a mango lassi and honey ginger lemon tea, both of which were incredible. Ben came shortly thereafter. It turned out that he did a great meditation course in the town of Bodgaya, where Buddha achieved enlightenment under a tree. He met lots of cool people at the retreat who were all coming in and out of the cafe all the time and sat with us. I really felt like we were at Leopolds in our own version of Shantaram.
The parallels continued in Varanasi. I never would have felt comfortable following a "guide" around town if I hadn't seen how much the protagonist of Shantaram gained from his relationship to Prabu. My guide was called "Tota" meaning parokeet in Hindi, because apparantly some people thought he looked like a bird. He brought me to Hindu and Nepalese temples, showed me how to make an offering to the goddess Durga for the holiday of Nivrathri. He showed me the clothing factory where he and others hand sew saris, blankets and scarves. The owner of the factory became irrate when he discovered I didn't want to spend massive amounts of money, but that comes with the territory.
Varanasi and Rishikesh, where I am now, are two of the holiest places I've ever visited in my life. Being by the ganges river and seeing people bathe in it, pray, participate in pujas, dodge cows and monkeys wherever I go...well, I can't do it justice here at this internet cafe so I won't even try. I'm looking forward to seeing many of you again at the end of April.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Justifying my existence
It just so happens that I woke up at the beach the other day and the words, “What is Julie doing in Asia?” popped in my head. I had mentioned that I would be working in Thailand and I’m not. Later in the day at the beach I spoke on the phone with Pamela, who said that she had gotten together with a group of our mutual friends in New York the night before when someone asked, “What is Julie doing in Asia? Finding herself?”
Today is March 18th, the day I was SUPPOSED to go back to the United States before I extended my ticket. The original precursor for the extension was “working” or volunteerism. The former ambassador to Thailand worked at the think tank in Washington, DC where I was interning and he helped me get a connection with an NGO here. My first conversation with the director of the IRC in Bangkok was promising. He said, “I have three different opportunities lined up for you. But how long are you staying? A month at each place would be ideal.” “Oh, I better extend my ticket,” we both agreed.
We planned to talk over the details in Chiang Mai. But once I got there, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that he was avoiding me, not returning my calls, and when I saw him at the night market he avoided looking at me and treated me with suspicion. (Really! It’s true! I’m not just being a drama queen, and by the way, there also was really a dead body floating in the Mekong river next to our slow boat, to answer a couple of your doubts.)
When I eventually spoke to the director of the NGO, he spoke about unforeseen bureaucracy, messy politics with their partner organizations. He said I could wait indefinitely for a meeting to happen between some NGO directors who were then out of town, but I told him that I wuzn’t gunna stick around to wait for something that might never happen. So instead I’ve just been embracing my life as a traveler.
One of the things I liked best about my time in Nicaragua while serving in the Peace Corps was hanging out with kids, climbing trees, picking fruit, dancing, singing, and spending time outside. In Laos one evening I was sitting at a wat (temple) when a girl sat down next to me and began to give me travel advice since she seemed to have been everywhere in the world. Her mother was home schooling her for a year abroad. She was having an alternative 7th grade: instead of spending an awkward year of middle school in New Mexico, she was spending it in The Middle East, Europe, and Asia. She was one of the wisest 12 year olds, or people of any age, that I have ever met.
Today is March 18th, the day I was SUPPOSED to go back to the United States before I extended my ticket. The original precursor for the extension was “working” or volunteerism. The former ambassador to Thailand worked at the think tank in Washington, DC where I was interning and he helped me get a connection with an NGO here. My first conversation with the director of the IRC in Bangkok was promising. He said, “I have three different opportunities lined up for you. But how long are you staying? A month at each place would be ideal.” “Oh, I better extend my ticket,” we both agreed.
We planned to talk over the details in Chiang Mai. But once I got there, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that he was avoiding me, not returning my calls, and when I saw him at the night market he avoided looking at me and treated me with suspicion. (Really! It’s true! I’m not just being a drama queen, and by the way, there also was really a dead body floating in the Mekong river next to our slow boat, to answer a couple of your doubts.)
When I eventually spoke to the director of the NGO, he spoke about unforeseen bureaucracy, messy politics with their partner organizations. He said I could wait indefinitely for a meeting to happen between some NGO directors who were then out of town, but I told him that I wuzn’t gunna stick around to wait for something that might never happen. So instead I’ve just been embracing my life as a traveler.
One of the things I liked best about my time in Nicaragua while serving in the Peace Corps was hanging out with kids, climbing trees, picking fruit, dancing, singing, and spending time outside. In Laos one evening I was sitting at a wat (temple) when a girl sat down next to me and began to give me travel advice since she seemed to have been everywhere in the world. Her mother was home schooling her for a year abroad. She was having an alternative 7th grade: instead of spending an awkward year of middle school in New Mexico, she was spending it in The Middle East, Europe, and Asia. She was one of the wisest 12 year olds, or people of any age, that I have ever met.
She was also a helluvalot of fun to spend time with. We climbed many a tree, enlisted some Laotian kids to have a contest on the street of who could jump the farthest. These were the kids who had previously been trying to sell us things and Bela made them put down their souvenirs to play for a little bit. She encouraged me to conquer my adult fears and do the tarzan swing into the beautiful water falls. (I sucked at it and only worked up the courage to do it once instead of repeatedly like her and her mom) Everyone needs a Bela in their lives, I think.
After coming back from Laos, I spent a bit too much time in the noisy city of Bangkok. My friend from New York, Molly, came to visit me for the Jewish holiday of Purim to try my cousin’s hamantashen. They were quite interesting varieties of the triangular cookies with exotic filling like orange peel, dates and golden raisins. Molly and I went to the beach afterwards, and I have been island hopping since, at Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, and Koh Sammet. My friend Manali who I met in Laos was taking a diving course at Koh Tao and I went to go meet her there. We went snorkeling at “Sharks bay” where you actually see little sharks pass you by under the water. “They’re nice sharks,” they reassured me, and I took their word for it. When the motorboat picked us up to bring us back to the less pristine beach where we were staying, there was a German dude in it who had just been diving and saw an actual whale shark! I felt the excitement of my former first grade students from the inner cities of Brooklyn, asking questions about the baleen in this harmless whale’s mouth that filters through the ocean water for food. I couldn’t believe that he had just seen a real one instead of just a picture in a book!
Another great thing about this whole travel bit is getting to know people from different countries who I’d never otherwise bond with. I met a Pakistani guy on the ferry ride to Koh Phangan whose father had been in the army his whole life. He had never finished an entire grade growing up in the same school because he moved around so much. He didn’t realize that I was Jewish until the middle of our dinner conversation that night, but he took it well and told me that I was the fifth Jew he had ever met (the rest of them were other people from this trip to Thailand.) Before leaving the island, I gave him a bottle of Israeli wine that my cousin’s rabbi had given to us as a gift at Purim. He said that he had never tried wine before (he drank beer and other alcohol -- I wasn’t trying to pervert the poor fellow and he was happy to try it, even though Muslims aren’t supposed to drink.) I thought it was cool that the first wine he ever tasted would be Israeli kosher wine with Hebrew letters printed on it.
My Swiss friend who I had met on the train in India just lent me the book Shantaram, which has been occupying my days recently. It’s an obsession, actually. Anyone who’s read it understands what I mean. That book is amazing. It makes me really excited to go back to India and try to surrender to the madness a little more. Thailand was a very easy country to get around in, well- mapped out for a tourist. India is not. Since I had my extended trip in Asia to fill with non-volunteerism, I bought a return ticket to go to India again and try myself out to see how much I could surrender this time around.
My first stop after flying into the city of Calcutta will be a good test: we’re taking a train to Varanasi from the airport where cremations take place along the Ganges, and I heard that anything could happen. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Another great thing about this whole travel bit is getting to know people from different countries who I’d never otherwise bond with. I met a Pakistani guy on the ferry ride to Koh Phangan whose father had been in the army his whole life. He had never finished an entire grade growing up in the same school because he moved around so much. He didn’t realize that I was Jewish until the middle of our dinner conversation that night, but he took it well and told me that I was the fifth Jew he had ever met (the rest of them were other people from this trip to Thailand.) Before leaving the island, I gave him a bottle of Israeli wine that my cousin’s rabbi had given to us as a gift at Purim. He said that he had never tried wine before (he drank beer and other alcohol -- I wasn’t trying to pervert the poor fellow and he was happy to try it, even though Muslims aren’t supposed to drink.) I thought it was cool that the first wine he ever tasted would be Israeli kosher wine with Hebrew letters printed on it.
My Swiss friend who I had met on the train in India just lent me the book Shantaram, which has been occupying my days recently. It’s an obsession, actually. Anyone who’s read it understands what I mean. That book is amazing. It makes me really excited to go back to India and try to surrender to the madness a little more. Thailand was a very easy country to get around in, well- mapped out for a tourist. India is not. Since I had my extended trip in Asia to fill with non-volunteerism, I bought a return ticket to go to India again and try myself out to see how much I could surrender this time around.
My first stop after flying into the city of Calcutta will be a good test: we’re taking a train to Varanasi from the airport where cremations take place along the Ganges, and I heard that anything could happen. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Crossing the Border into Lao
Our minivan approached a little house in the mountains of north Thailand that had the words “Laos embassy” painted on the side. This was supposed to give us sufficient confidence to hand over our passports so that we could get Laos visas. The fee that was required depended on your nationality. $35 dollars if you’re American, a little more if your Canadian and if you’re German , Australian or English, it would be better to come back next year because it will be free then. In the meantime, give us all your money. One dollar extra because it was the weekend (seriously!)
A Laotian man who headed the tour company joked that they would sell our passports for a thousand Thai baht each. He also broke the news that the journey would take close to 20 hours instead of the 10 the tourist agencies promised. He said, “They tell you five hours one day, five the next, take your money and then laugh at you once you walk out the door.”
He also told us it was a good idea that we’re taking the slow boat if we want to return back to our countries. I got to see numerous “fast boats” passing us by with people donning their helmets. Apparently some are catapulted out and die when the boat comes up against a rock or driftwood. No kidding that we passed a dead body in the boat. A group of English girls saw the body first and motioned to the boat conductor. When he saw it he began to laugh.
We made a stop for the night at a village whose only visitors were those making the mandatory stop over on the way to Luang Prabang. We were warned ahead of time that we may encounter some scams or sketchiness. “Grab your bags and don’t let anyone help you carry them,” we were told. The village lived up to its reputation. Many tourists were accosted with offers of sex, drugs including opium and cocaine, and free Lao whisky. We shared our stories on the boat ride the next morning when we left at 9:30 AM and didn’t arrive to our destination until 6 PM, without a break.
Despite my numerous seeming-complaints, I enjoyed the ride thoroughly. It was non-stop gorgeous scenery of mountains, river and sun-sets, naked Lao children swimming and playing, wild animals on the shores. Lots of conversations with cool people on the boat, not to mention scandalous tales to report on this very blog.
A Laotian man who headed the tour company joked that they would sell our passports for a thousand Thai baht each. He also broke the news that the journey would take close to 20 hours instead of the 10 the tourist agencies promised. He said, “They tell you five hours one day, five the next, take your money and then laugh at you once you walk out the door.”
He also told us it was a good idea that we’re taking the slow boat if we want to return back to our countries. I got to see numerous “fast boats” passing us by with people donning their helmets. Apparently some are catapulted out and die when the boat comes up against a rock or driftwood. No kidding that we passed a dead body in the boat. A group of English girls saw the body first and motioned to the boat conductor. When he saw it he began to laugh.
We made a stop for the night at a village whose only visitors were those making the mandatory stop over on the way to Luang Prabang. We were warned ahead of time that we may encounter some scams or sketchiness. “Grab your bags and don’t let anyone help you carry them,” we were told. The village lived up to its reputation. Many tourists were accosted with offers of sex, drugs including opium and cocaine, and free Lao whisky. We shared our stories on the boat ride the next morning when we left at 9:30 AM and didn’t arrive to our destination until 6 PM, without a break.
Despite my numerous seeming-complaints, I enjoyed the ride thoroughly. It was non-stop gorgeous scenery of mountains, river and sun-sets, naked Lao children swimming and playing, wild animals on the shores. Lots of conversations with cool people on the boat, not to mention scandalous tales to report on this very blog.
More on quirky Chiang Mai
Did I mention that I really like the city of Chiang Mai? It felt like home. A city that even Lonely Planet Guides describes as quirky suited me just fine.
I was glad that I followed my instinct to rent a room from the hostel called “Nocky’s House.” As soon as I sat down with one of the awesome Thai daughters I fell in love and wanted to give her my money. The hostel was owned by a kick-ass family who gave me special discounts, great treatment, and even offered my money back when I would change my plans periodically!
I had a Chiang Mai routine: walking to the water filter machine on the street and preparing my two plastic bottles to be filled with UV-treated water. The machine that I liked best was broken and the water pressure was freakishly strong. Every other machine barely filled up one bottle of water for 1 Thai baht, but this baby, not only filled up two, but also came out so forcefully that it splashed me in the face and splattered all over my clothes, without fail, every time.
From the water machine, I would walk away drenched and refreshed to “Soi 6” (the streets are numbered as “soi’s”) where there was a market to buy some fruit, spicy noodles and eggplant, and then to a kick-ass bakery to buy some delicious and cheap banana bread. A dollar was all it took to get a loaf with moist raisins and cashews on top.
Someone at my guest house had suggested that I check out the vegetarian restaurant called “Blue Diamond” that had delicious organic food with many veggie options. I quickly became a regular.
One of the things that I loved best about Chiang Mai was its transportation options. To get from one side of the city to the other, you could take a communal taxi, which consisted of jumping on the back of the pick up truck. This was the custom in Nicaragua when hitchhiking as well, but the “sawnthaew” has two benches on the long side of the truck and charges a dollar or less. It’s quite economical and convenient.
The city is also quite bike friendly and I used this option to get to more of my spiritual, quirky destinations. First I found a yoga studio that was offering a weekend workshop on finding yourself. My favorite part of the program was being catapulted in the air by four people while I shouted “ME!” They confirmed that it was me by looking into my eyes and saying, “Yes, it’s you.” A moment that I will surely never forget.
After visiting the yoga studio I went to a gorgeous temple that was built in the Cambodian “Angor Wat” style. Three days a week they offer “monk chats” where the monks sit down with you and tell you all about their traditions, lifestyle and anything else you wanna know.
Another day I visited the woman’s correctional facility of Chiang Mai. These female prison inmates are trained in giving Thai and foot massages. The money they earn from the treatments is saved until they are released. Can you imagine going to the jails in the US and letting the accused criminals give you a massage?
I was glad that I followed my instinct to rent a room from the hostel called “Nocky’s House.” As soon as I sat down with one of the awesome Thai daughters I fell in love and wanted to give her my money. The hostel was owned by a kick-ass family who gave me special discounts, great treatment, and even offered my money back when I would change my plans periodically!
I had a Chiang Mai routine: walking to the water filter machine on the street and preparing my two plastic bottles to be filled with UV-treated water. The machine that I liked best was broken and the water pressure was freakishly strong. Every other machine barely filled up one bottle of water for 1 Thai baht, but this baby, not only filled up two, but also came out so forcefully that it splashed me in the face and splattered all over my clothes, without fail, every time.
From the water machine, I would walk away drenched and refreshed to “Soi 6” (the streets are numbered as “soi’s”) where there was a market to buy some fruit, spicy noodles and eggplant, and then to a kick-ass bakery to buy some delicious and cheap banana bread. A dollar was all it took to get a loaf with moist raisins and cashews on top.
Someone at my guest house had suggested that I check out the vegetarian restaurant called “Blue Diamond” that had delicious organic food with many veggie options. I quickly became a regular.
One of the things that I loved best about Chiang Mai was its transportation options. To get from one side of the city to the other, you could take a communal taxi, which consisted of jumping on the back of the pick up truck. This was the custom in Nicaragua when hitchhiking as well, but the “sawnthaew” has two benches on the long side of the truck and charges a dollar or less. It’s quite economical and convenient.
The city is also quite bike friendly and I used this option to get to more of my spiritual, quirky destinations. First I found a yoga studio that was offering a weekend workshop on finding yourself. My favorite part of the program was being catapulted in the air by four people while I shouted “ME!” They confirmed that it was me by looking into my eyes and saying, “Yes, it’s you.” A moment that I will surely never forget.
After visiting the yoga studio I went to a gorgeous temple that was built in the Cambodian “Angor Wat” style. Three days a week they offer “monk chats” where the monks sit down with you and tell you all about their traditions, lifestyle and anything else you wanna know.
Another day I visited the woman’s correctional facility of Chiang Mai. These female prison inmates are trained in giving Thai and foot massages. The money they earn from the treatments is saved until they are released. Can you imagine going to the jails in the US and letting the accused criminals give you a massage?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wats and Love
In case anybody's reading this, I thought I would post something because I have not done so for awhile. Today I am heading farther north with my friend Rachel, from Washington DC (soon to be my new home since I got into Georgetown's school of Public Policy!!!! YAY!!! how did that happen? I'm excited!). We are planning to cross the Thai border into Laos. Julie Lockman from Brooklyn first told me about this ride in which you pick between the slow boat across the Mekong River, which takes two days, and the fast boat where you have to wear a helmet and look down the whole time or you'll get whiplash. I picked the former option since I always appreciate a good "journey" even if the ride is exhausting. And I am already exhausted. As the elusive title of this posting implies (to me at least) I have been praying at many buddhist temples (called wats) and learning about love. Write me an email if you're interested in learning more and I'll post more about Laos when I come back!!!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Chiang Mai
I arrived to Chiang Mai, a city in northern Thailand, last Thursday and felt very quickly the liveability of the city. Nobody came rushing at me at the airport to harrass me to stay at their hotel, the cabby brought me just where I wanted to go without trying to charge me too much. I was like, "Where am I? Did I leave Asia?" I hope that wasn't an un-PC thing to write. I celebrated the comfortable feeling by renting a room here for a month, even though if I have no idea if I'll actually stay here that long. I wanted to have a home base away from my cousin's house in Bangkok, cause that city just aint my cup of tea. The mountains suit me much better. The day I arrived, I booked a trek to ride some elephants and visit waterfalls. Our tour guide's name was Mr. P, who I found very irritating at times, but memorable. He kept on exclaiming, "Oh my Buddha!" and then pretending that he saw a poisonous snake or a crocodile and shot his slingshot at the imaginary animal. After riding the elephants and swimming in the waterfalls we hiked to a "hill tribe" village to spend the night. It was a Karen village, a tribe that fought for an independent state within Burma but was never granted it from the military government. Arriving there reminded me of being dropped off at my Peace Corps site, and I imagined what it would be like to spend two years there instead of just a night. How random an experience the Peace Corps was. Instead of bonding with the village kids, things stayed quite superficial. We were unable to talk to anyone there since we don't speak Thai, but the kids were trained to come sing us songs at night around a bonfire and then they collected money. Mr. P just had to say the magic word, "education" and all of the westerners opened up our wallets. Where the money was actually going...who knows. "Education."
Oh, another great phrase that can't be attributed to Mr. P, but to Thailand in general is "same same but different." When someone asked Mr. P, "Are we hiking to the same waterfall tomorrow or a different one?" He said, "Same same but different." I used the phrase today when someone asked me how the buddhist temple that I visited was. "Same same but different." It was a temple, slightly different from the others I've seen, but the same.
I slept surprisingly well on the hard floor with mats that night and the next day we went rafting down the river in boats that were made of bamboo shoots barely bundled together. Seated on the boats while two guys did the oaring, our butts were getting extremely wet, fully underwater at times. (I'm not sure if you could visualize that, no, not my butt, but the structure of the boat.)
Fast forwarding back to Chiang Mai, I have spent quality time with my friend Rachel from Washington, DC who is also living in the area. She and I are taking Thai language lessons twice a week with an awesome tutor. Me likey. Chan chop mahk mahk. This is the first country in Asia I've visited where I'll be able to put together whole sentences instead of just words or phrases. On Sunday there was an awesome outdoor market where there were incredible treats for the senses: tastes, smells, sights, sounds. The best part of this place is that there are so many foreigners that nobody sticks out and. Going shopping at an outdoor market completely at ease was a pleasant experience.
I met an Indian/Israeli girl on Sunday who is in a similar boat to me: a 29 year old who was doing well in her life but decided to leave her job, take a break and travel for a couple of months. Today we visited the zoo and noticed how different each animal was. The flamincos slept on one foot, for example, just like in the Three's company show. There were also these freaky-looking dinosaur looking birds with red and blue heads. It made me think of people too, how different we are and what makes one person happy isn't at all what another person is about.
My "job" opportunity, which is really just volunteerism, has not panned out yet, and I can't say that I mind. I just had dinner with two people working for NGOs in the area and they were complaining about how frustrating their work. Tomorrow, I'll be visiting orchid farms, more waterfalls and going white water rafting for the days afterwards. Maybe by next week they'll get their act together to start exploiting me for free labor.
Oh, another great phrase that can't be attributed to Mr. P, but to Thailand in general is "same same but different." When someone asked Mr. P, "Are we hiking to the same waterfall tomorrow or a different one?" He said, "Same same but different." I used the phrase today when someone asked me how the buddhist temple that I visited was. "Same same but different." It was a temple, slightly different from the others I've seen, but the same.
I slept surprisingly well on the hard floor with mats that night and the next day we went rafting down the river in boats that were made of bamboo shoots barely bundled together. Seated on the boats while two guys did the oaring, our butts were getting extremely wet, fully underwater at times. (I'm not sure if you could visualize that, no, not my butt, but the structure of the boat.)
Fast forwarding back to Chiang Mai, I have spent quality time with my friend Rachel from Washington, DC who is also living in the area. She and I are taking Thai language lessons twice a week with an awesome tutor. Me likey. Chan chop mahk mahk. This is the first country in Asia I've visited where I'll be able to put together whole sentences instead of just words or phrases. On Sunday there was an awesome outdoor market where there were incredible treats for the senses: tastes, smells, sights, sounds. The best part of this place is that there are so many foreigners that nobody sticks out and. Going shopping at an outdoor market completely at ease was a pleasant experience.
I met an Indian/Israeli girl on Sunday who is in a similar boat to me: a 29 year old who was doing well in her life but decided to leave her job, take a break and travel for a couple of months. Today we visited the zoo and noticed how different each animal was. The flamincos slept on one foot, for example, just like in the Three's company show. There were also these freaky-looking dinosaur looking birds with red and blue heads. It made me think of people too, how different we are and what makes one person happy isn't at all what another person is about.
My "job" opportunity, which is really just volunteerism, has not panned out yet, and I can't say that I mind. I just had dinner with two people working for NGOs in the area and they were complaining about how frustrating their work. Tomorrow, I'll be visiting orchid farms, more waterfalls and going white water rafting for the days afterwards. Maybe by next week they'll get their act together to start exploiting me for free labor.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Elephants
I just got back from a trek in the mountains by Chiang Mai and fell in love with some baby elephants.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The beach
What do you get when you put thousands of backpackers together on an island for a full moon party? Foolishness. There were bus and train loads of us tourists shipped to the port where ferries brought the 30,000 plus tourists to Koh Phangan to celebrate lunar madness.
I got on an overnight bus from Bangkok in which I was the only American on the double decker bus. (The rest were Europeans.) After talking to the extremely nice French girl seated next to me I drifted asleep, but was jolted awake in the middle of the night for a food stop. I deliriously stumbled over to the food stand and ordered some curried chicken eating across from an English bloke. He started telling me about his travels in India, specifically in the city of Varanasi where all the cremations take place by the Ganges river. As he described the harassment he experienced while stepping on shit in the dirty streets I became anxious and blurted out just that, “I’m getting anxious.” “Do you want a valium pill?” he asked me. “No I’m just going to buy a soda,” I said and dashed away from him.I had the idea to come to this substance abusing island because two of my brother’s friends told me they were renting a house there. And I had also met the Swiss couple who told me about their yoga center. I ended up spending most of my time with two people I had just met though, two Estonian Hari Krishna dudes.
While seated on the back of my new Estonian friend’s motorcycle I got to ask him, “So what’s the deal with Krishna?” Something I’ve always been wondering ever since I first encountered Hari Krishnas selling their little books of the Bhagavad Gita outside the New York City subway. He told me about the group and also about his life as a famous Estonian musician (I googled him after leaving the island and he is legit) before he renounced his fame for spirituality. He made very good company as we swam in the ocean and waterfalls, visited chinese temple with his other friend with an Estonian name who told me to just call him “Vincent” (that was NOT his real name). The three of us would sit together and sing kirtans, or devotional songs, continuing my post-ashram chanting craze.
I also did some yoga at the center that the couple told me about while I was there. But this was yoga with a different slant. The swami at the ashram where I stayed in India was celibate, as I thought all swamis were, until I arrived to “Agama yoga center” which apparently is a hub of tantric yoga. Something that Madonna probably studied along with her Kabbalah lessons. So, this type of yoga is meant to build and release energy in order to achieve enlightenment through the body, not in spite of it. Or something like that.
The night of the full moon party after partaking in my free trial day of yoga classes, the center sponsored a “spiral meditation” at the beach. This was a party in itself that they said was meant to build solar energy to counteract the lunar energy that makes the party animals on the island lose their mind. We arranged ourselves in a spiral holding hands with people of corresponding astrological signs. There was a bonfire and house music playing with the swami performing some weird incantations in the middle. I don’t know what shit was going on, but at the end of the night I lost my shoes somehow and am happy to be alive.
My Estonian friend got into a motorcycle accident that night on the way to the full moon party and he was bruised on his arm and legs although it could have been a lot worse. He has a good attitude though, and unbending faith so this incident will only increase his devotion.
I knew that it was time for me to leave the island the day after the full moon party despite all the colorful people I had met and the beautiful scenery. I had already milked my way into some incredible guest houses with gorgeous views because the original room they had promised me for a reasonable price wasn’t available when I arrived. Lucky for me because I paid a fraction of what the rooms were worth.
My last morning at Koh Phangan was spent drinking tea with my brother’s friends on the porch of the house that they rented. We spoke about our crazy adventures thus far and our persistent desire to see even more of Asia.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Leaving Bangkok
After recharging my figurative batteries for some days I am planning to leave my cousin's house for the next month. I'm headed to a beach island today called Ko Pha-ngan where a couple of my brother's friends will be renting a house. That's also where the swiss couple that I met on the trainride in South India lives doing yoga for 9 months out of the year. Ko Pha-ngan is known for their "full moon parties," but I'm not sure if I'll make that. They are also known for their waterfalls and snorkeling of which I will definitely partake. After that I'll hopefully head to the North of Thailand to start the job. Details are yet to be determined, but I already told the guy at the International Rescue Committe that I'd be able to stay until May 1st, so that is the new estimated arrival date home.
Hopefully I'll make it that long! I thought I had better learn some of the Thai language but didn't feel like enrolling in a class so as an alternative I went on the website "Conversation exchange" where I found Thai people living in Bangkok who wanted to practice their English. Today before taking the bus south I'm supposed to meet with a Thai girl named Papayahanaga to practice Thai and go shopping at the big weekend market. She says to call her "apple." I hope that her friends "Banana and Orange" don't back me into an alley and take all my money!
Anyway, I'm leaving my laptop at my cousin's house for the next month so that I don't have to worry about it at hostels, en route, etc. I guess I'll try to update this again from an internet cafe at the beach or in the North somewhere. Until then, the farang (foreigner),
Julie
Hopefully I'll make it that long! I thought I had better learn some of the Thai language but didn't feel like enrolling in a class so as an alternative I went on the website "Conversation exchange" where I found Thai people living in Bangkok who wanted to practice their English. Today before taking the bus south I'm supposed to meet with a Thai girl named Papayahanaga to practice Thai and go shopping at the big weekend market. She says to call her "apple." I hope that her friends "Banana and Orange" don't back me into an alley and take all my money!
Anyway, I'm leaving my laptop at my cousin's house for the next month so that I don't have to worry about it at hostels, en route, etc. I guess I'll try to update this again from an internet cafe at the beach or in the North somewhere. Until then, the farang (foreigner),
Julie
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Thai Buddhism
I managed to break the inertia and leave my cousin's house today, taking the Bangkok subway for the first time. It was a clean and easy system with two thumbs up on my international public transportation scale. In every single stop the stations are announced in both Thai and English. I got off at the central train station where I obtained some time tables for trips I am sure to make in the near future including by the beach and mountains. I spoke to someone from the IRC (International Rescue Committee) who is hopefully helping me find interesting work/internship at a place in the north that deals with Migrant worker policies in Thailand. That would be da bomb diggity. Bangkok is a big, polluted, yet fairly well organized and nice city. I was determined to ride a boat down the Mae Nam Chao Phraya, which earned Bangkok its name as the Venice of the East. So I made my way over to the little port, walking from the train station. I was having a moment of "woe is me, it is more fun to travel with someone than travelling alone," but I knew that if I went home I would consider the day a failure, so I jumped on the next boat and hoped for the best. (Wasn't sure where it was going!)Things turned out smashing though, since I met two nice Canadians almost right away who knew where there were attractions to see and which stop to get off. I spent the day with them visiting the Grand Palace and the reclining Buddha. I had tried to investigate which attractions I wanted to see in Bangkok the day before, but it was all looking the same to me. I blame it on the inertia and being way too comfortable at my cousin's house to care about the outside world. So now onto my new favorite topic: religion. I thought I'd use this blog as an excuse to explore the different types of Buddhism. When I grew up, I thought that Buddha was the fat guy with the rolls of his belly exposed. Here in Thailand Buddha is extremely slender and is sometimes dancing in angular postures. According to the site About.com, which once gave my computer a virus but now seems pretty safe, the Chinese fat laughing Buddha is called Pu-tai. He is an incarnation of "the future Buddha, Maitreya". I saw depictions of this same incarnation of Buddha in Japan, where he is called Hotei but he looked slightly different. Apparently, there was one historical Buddha, whose name was Siddhartha (yeah, it's a great book by Herman Hess). He left his home and family at the age of 29 to find enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. Some religious texts say that there were six Buddhas before Siddhartha, and then the Buddha that is still yet to come (we in Judaism call it the Messiah!) So...that's 8 Buddhas in total. It is also possible to become a Bodhisattva, someone on the path to Buddhahood. There are at least two types of Buddhism: Theravada and Mahayana. In Thailand they practice Theravada Buddhism, which Wikipedia says is the oldest surviving Buddha school. Tibetan Buddhism is apparently of the Mahayana tradition, but slightly different. It's interesting that Buddha was Hindu, and Jesus was a Jew and look what happened.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Bangkok
I've been asked by several people in the past few days, what are you going to do in Thailand? Well, my friends, I'm not sure yet.
I'm still digesting India, living in the past and staring at pictures. To my defense, I haven't had my lap top with me for the past month and this is the first time I've downloaded my pictures. I left my lap top along with a suitcase at Pammy's cousin's house in Delhi. He was nice enough to play the movie Slumdog Millionaire which he already had on DVD for me before I had to go back to the airport for my flight. Just one more impression of India to take with me.
It's clear now that I'm "just another white person who went to India to look for themselves." (I'm quoting a friend here who was talking about someone else, but I'm applying the phrase to myself.)
Ben had been travelling around India with a 60-year old Jewish woman from Atlanta, Georgia before coming to the ashram. He said, "She just retired, had never left the US in her life. What's the logical thing to do next? Get a 10 year visa to India." CLEARLY.
I'm not sure what it is. India is just a place that you go in order to figure things out. You know, things as in what it's all about. Maybe it's the way that people hang out of the trains while feeling the cool air of the country side rush by.
Maybe it's seeing grown men weep after getting a hug from their guru Amma who was abused as a child in south India and since then achieved enlightenment by hugging everyone. Something like that is possible only in a country where spirituality dominates the psyche, where cows roam the streets and people are careful not to step in the holy shit. It sounds corny, but it's in a place like that when it finally made sense to me that we are all connected, that the divine resides in each and every one of us instead of being far up in the sky.
Alright, I might as well come out and say that I am a Hinju. I've been waiting to make this declaration since the day before my trip when I was in Pamela's room looking at her altar and felt something click as it made sense why I was moving again and giving up the job and apartment (well it was a room at least =) again to travel to Asia. It's because something was missing.
Many times at the ashram when we were chanting in Sanskrit I almost lapsed into the tune of "Yedid Nefish", "Shalom Alechem" or another one of my favorite Hebrew tunes. One Shabbat I brought my siddur with me to the puja and was showing people the Jewish prayers. No, I didn't think that God would mind the images around me.
Eating the vegetarian food with my hands never got old, although the day I left the ashram I have to admit that I binged on brownies and chocolate bars for breakfast and ate meat twice by nightfall. For me, asceticism isn't something to live by, but something to learn from through limited exposure =).
The highlight of my last days at the ashram was going to the wedding of another man who had rescued me by picking me up at the gas station my first night in Madurai with the sketchy rickshaw driver. The wedding was great because the food was delicious and spicy, I got to get decked out in Indian clothes, the music rocked, and the people who I went with were awesome. There was a Lebonese man who referred to me as his sister, a beautiful English girl who says that she may become a woman monk, my friend "Hanuman" who took the spiritual name of the monkey god and hopes to live in the US soon.
So even though "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2 is still one of the only songs I have posted on my Facebook page, I feel like I came a little closer to finding it in India.
OK, soo this post was not about Bangkok at all even though I'm here now. I'm staying with another one of my dad's cousins who lives here and is a head of the small Jewish community. The day I arrived she was already preparing the filling of humantaschen that she's making for the holiday purim. It was cool to be let off by a taxi driver in an exotic home with gates around it, but to be reassured I was in the right place by the pictures of my extended family all around the living room. To go out to see Buddhist temples around the city and come home to a kitchen of Jewish cookbooks. Pretty random. I just went outside in my cousin's swimming pool and swam at night under the half moon. I came in because I felt a little dizzy, so maybe that induced the tripped out state of this writing. OK, I'll tell you more about Thailand another time and please forgive the poor choice of a title for this blog entry.
I'm still digesting India, living in the past and staring at pictures. To my defense, I haven't had my lap top with me for the past month and this is the first time I've downloaded my pictures. I left my lap top along with a suitcase at Pammy's cousin's house in Delhi. He was nice enough to play the movie Slumdog Millionaire which he already had on DVD for me before I had to go back to the airport for my flight. Just one more impression of India to take with me.
It's clear now that I'm "just another white person who went to India to look for themselves." (I'm quoting a friend here who was talking about someone else, but I'm applying the phrase to myself.)
Ben had been travelling around India with a 60-year old Jewish woman from Atlanta, Georgia before coming to the ashram. He said, "She just retired, had never left the US in her life. What's the logical thing to do next? Get a 10 year visa to India." CLEARLY.
I'm not sure what it is. India is just a place that you go in order to figure things out. You know, things as in what it's all about. Maybe it's the way that people hang out of the trains while feeling the cool air of the country side rush by.
Maybe it's seeing grown men weep after getting a hug from their guru Amma who was abused as a child in south India and since then achieved enlightenment by hugging everyone. Something like that is possible only in a country where spirituality dominates the psyche, where cows roam the streets and people are careful not to step in the holy shit. It sounds corny, but it's in a place like that when it finally made sense to me that we are all connected, that the divine resides in each and every one of us instead of being far up in the sky.Alright, I might as well come out and say that I am a Hinju. I've been waiting to make this declaration since the day before my trip when I was in Pamela's room looking at her altar and felt something click as it made sense why I was moving again and giving up the job and apartment (well it was a room at least =) again to travel to Asia. It's because something was missing.
Many times at the ashram when we were chanting in Sanskrit I almost lapsed into the tune of "Yedid Nefish", "Shalom Alechem" or another one of my favorite Hebrew tunes. One Shabbat I brought my siddur with me to the puja and was showing people the Jewish prayers. No, I didn't think that God would mind the images around me.
Eating the vegetarian food with my hands never got old, although the day I left the ashram I have to admit that I binged on brownies and chocolate bars for breakfast and ate meat twice by nightfall. For me, asceticism isn't something to live by, but something to learn from through limited exposure =).
The highlight of my last days at the ashram was going to the wedding of another man who had rescued me by picking me up at the gas station my first night in Madurai with the sketchy rickshaw driver. The wedding was great because the food was delicious and spicy, I got to get decked out in Indian clothes, the music rocked, and the people who I went with were awesome. There was a Lebonese man who referred to me as his sister, a beautiful English girl who says that she may become a woman monk, my friend "Hanuman" who took the spiritual name of the monkey god and hopes to live in the US soon.
So even though "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2 is still one of the only songs I have posted on my Facebook page, I feel like I came a little closer to finding it in India.
OK, soo this post was not about Bangkok at all even though I'm here now. I'm staying with another one of my dad's cousins who lives here and is a head of the small Jewish community. The day I arrived she was already preparing the filling of humantaschen that she's making for the holiday purim. It was cool to be let off by a taxi driver in an exotic home with gates around it, but to be reassured I was in the right place by the pictures of my extended family all around the living room. To go out to see Buddhist temples around the city and come home to a kitchen of Jewish cookbooks. Pretty random. I just went outside in my cousin's swimming pool and swam at night under the half moon. I came in because I felt a little dizzy, so maybe that induced the tripped out state of this writing. OK, I'll tell you more about Thailand another time and please forgive the poor choice of a title for this blog entry.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Memoirs of a yogi
I came to town today to use the internet since both the computers and the phone aren't functioning at the ashram. OOOOMMMMM, everything turns into a practice of patience when you're in the yogic state of mind.
Arriving to the ashram was a bit hectic since it is in the middle of nowhere, literally, and my train arrived late at night in the city of Madurai. The "rickshaw" driver didn't know where the place was and ran out of gas on the road. The gas station also ran out of gas and I was waiting there with a group of men who didn't speak any English, for I'm not sure what, but eventually the gas started flowing. By that time I was sufficiently freaked out and called my ashram to update them to where I was. Three nice men from the ashram came to rescue me with their vehicle (nothing bad was going to happen, I was just freaked out) and it was cool to see some enlightened men flex their muscles and lecture the cabby for keeping me waiting for so long in the language of Tamil (the language in the Indian state where I am now: Tamil Nadu).
Anywho, things have been quite calm since my arrival. The trainride was georgeous by the way, and i really enjoyed watching the Indian landscape from the open train door. It was perfectly safe too and I met some nice people including a swiss couple who were blissed out and encouraged me to just leave my bag on the train while we got something to eat at a transfer station. I still have some material attachment though, and wanted to check our our bags after awhile. They didn't really understand why I would be concerned.
I've met a number of blissed out Europeans, by the way, who work for about 3 months a year, save up money, and then return to do yoga in either Thailand or India for the rest of the year. Their eyes are dreamy, man. One of them guessed my astrological sign within minutes of meeting me. They are sooo laid back.
So, back to the ashram, yoga, yoga and more yoga. Oh yeah, there's meditation and chanting too. We eat with our hands, people wipe their bottoms with their hands, and true to Charlie's friend's word, who I had the pleasure of meeting at the ashram, I witnessed nasal flossing this morning for the first time. It's true, if you swallow a cathater it does come out of your mouth, and that, apparently cleans your nasal passage.
Besides ashram life, I've also attended an Indian wedding at a temple in the city. It was beautiful and entertaining. The foreigners made it entertaining, I think. At one point the equivalent of a flower girl gave out grains of sugar that we were supposed to eat. Next they gave out uncooked rice with saffron, which we weren't supposed to eat, we were supposed to throw as confetti, but most of us foreiners ate the uncooked yellow rice anyway and the girl handing it out had a look of horror and disgust. I had a bit of rice left in my hand but I couldn't see the couple when everyone was throwing theirs, so I pelted two older sari clad Indian women in the face without thinking (I threw quite hard) and some of the local men started laughing uncontrollably. A good time was had by all. The foreigners were taking pictures of the Tamil people, and when it was time to eat, some locals were taking pictures of us trying to eat with our hands, which they will probably keep in an album and laugh at for generations to come.
I also went into town to see Amma, the divine mother guru who gives holy hugs. She has a cult following of hundreds of thousands of people and it was very interesting to see the spectacle. OK, back to the ashram now for me. I hope inauguration day was a happy day for all.
Arriving to the ashram was a bit hectic since it is in the middle of nowhere, literally, and my train arrived late at night in the city of Madurai. The "rickshaw" driver didn't know where the place was and ran out of gas on the road. The gas station also ran out of gas and I was waiting there with a group of men who didn't speak any English, for I'm not sure what, but eventually the gas started flowing. By that time I was sufficiently freaked out and called my ashram to update them to where I was. Three nice men from the ashram came to rescue me with their vehicle (nothing bad was going to happen, I was just freaked out) and it was cool to see some enlightened men flex their muscles and lecture the cabby for keeping me waiting for so long in the language of Tamil (the language in the Indian state where I am now: Tamil Nadu).
Anywho, things have been quite calm since my arrival. The trainride was georgeous by the way, and i really enjoyed watching the Indian landscape from the open train door. It was perfectly safe too and I met some nice people including a swiss couple who were blissed out and encouraged me to just leave my bag on the train while we got something to eat at a transfer station. I still have some material attachment though, and wanted to check our our bags after awhile. They didn't really understand why I would be concerned.
I've met a number of blissed out Europeans, by the way, who work for about 3 months a year, save up money, and then return to do yoga in either Thailand or India for the rest of the year. Their eyes are dreamy, man. One of them guessed my astrological sign within minutes of meeting me. They are sooo laid back.
So, back to the ashram, yoga, yoga and more yoga. Oh yeah, there's meditation and chanting too. We eat with our hands, people wipe their bottoms with their hands, and true to Charlie's friend's word, who I had the pleasure of meeting at the ashram, I witnessed nasal flossing this morning for the first time. It's true, if you swallow a cathater it does come out of your mouth, and that, apparently cleans your nasal passage.
Besides ashram life, I've also attended an Indian wedding at a temple in the city. It was beautiful and entertaining. The foreigners made it entertaining, I think. At one point the equivalent of a flower girl gave out grains of sugar that we were supposed to eat. Next they gave out uncooked rice with saffron, which we weren't supposed to eat, we were supposed to throw as confetti, but most of us foreiners ate the uncooked yellow rice anyway and the girl handing it out had a look of horror and disgust. I had a bit of rice left in my hand but I couldn't see the couple when everyone was throwing theirs, so I pelted two older sari clad Indian women in the face without thinking (I threw quite hard) and some of the local men started laughing uncontrollably. A good time was had by all. The foreigners were taking pictures of the Tamil people, and when it was time to eat, some locals were taking pictures of us trying to eat with our hands, which they will probably keep in an album and laugh at for generations to come.
I also went into town to see Amma, the divine mother guru who gives holy hugs. She has a cult following of hundreds of thousands of people and it was very interesting to see the spectacle. OK, back to the ashram now for me. I hope inauguration day was a happy day for all.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
India Part 2
Hey folks, sorry to admit it, but it is HOT here. My trip has taken a turn for the chill. I've even gotten used to being driven by taxis into oncoming traffic. It's much more pleasant, I discovered today, if accompanied by music, especially U2's It's a Beautiful Day on my ipod. Since I last wrote, I got an aryvedic massage, in which you lie directly on a massage table and then go slipping and sliding around the table lubricated with hot oils. I though it just hadn't occurred to them to put a sheet down, but they actually think it's better like that. Hanging with my yoga teacher cousin was cool, and I got to know her a lot better over many cups of masala chai overlooking the beach. Now I'm hanging with some English backpackers, my friend Joyce from Junior High school and her beau Sujay in Kerala. Sujay's family is from the area and his aryuvedic doctor cousin showed us around his family complex with big vats of natural medicine cooking. He gave me some tea/powder for my belly and I'm wondering if I should try it out....
I also visited the town of Cochin where I was very curious about the synagogue that held one of the biggest communities in India. Now the community is reduced to a few families since most members went to Israel. I rented a bike for about a dollar that day and explored the city by the water with chinese fishing nets that bring up a lot of garbage like Bubba Gump's shrimping boats. I'm sorta nervous about going to my yoga retreat tomorrow, not because of swallowing cloth or using nasal floss, like some of you might think, but it may be my first experience on the Indian trains and it will be a Looooooonnnnggg ride to get there. I was advised by some trustworthy friends to be selective of the experiences I have, since I am often too much game for whatever happens, but alas, I think a long trainride awaits. Will write more another day from a hopefully blissful state at the yoga ashram.Tuesday, January 13, 2009
India part 1
hey peops. well, here i am in india, and culture shock has hit. i am not in kansas anymore. The transition was eased by pammy and her cousin Sumit picking me up at the airport in Delhi and bringing me to their family's house. We enjoyed Mccy D's for dinner that night as I enjoy trying the local variety of the conglomerate's cuisine in each country i visit. In Japan it was a shrimp tempura sandwich and here in india it's the McAloo Tikki. Not bad. Pam's cousin made all the reservations for us to tour around for five days. Our first stop was the lake palace at Udaipur. It's a real pretty place, and we found our special place to sit, eat and drink all the time while overlooking a georgous view. (reminded me of my vacations at the sinai peninsula). While there, we saw a light show where the city hall spoke to us about the Mewar dynasty. Apparantly before 1947, India was divided into many self-governing states and only after independence did they become a unified country.
Rajastan, the area of India in the north where we visited is known for puppetry and we enjoyed seeing private shows of indian snake charmers and kings while seated in the back room of the puppet maker's shop. (Pam had read in Fodor's that if you go into the shop and look nice you might receive an invitation.
Udaipur is apparently the site where the 1983 Jame's Bond movie "Octopussy" was filmed, and at 7 PM each night multiple venues would show it and there would be the sounds of machine guns and car crashes filling unpaved streets. Since I have arrived in India I am reminded of my experience in Nicaragua, eating in the company of flies who vomit on your food before they eat it to help break it down. (Pam appreciated knowing that during one of our meals.) Our next flight from Udaipur was cancelled due to fog, so we ended up redirected to Mumbai and spent the night there. Pam's cousin took us to a WONDERFUL seafood restaurant called Trishna http://travel.nytimes.com/travel/guides/asia/india/mumbai/restaurant-detail.html?vid=1154654653624 which was actually one of the best restaurants I have ever been to. So freaking tasty with excellent service. I asked Pam to take many pictures of me in front of the restaurant like five times since the meal was so satisfying, and she commented that I previously refused to have my picture taken in front of any monument or attraction during our time in India, but this restaurant is what I really wanted to remember. I definitely did NOT want to remember the ride in the tuk tuk to and from our hotel, although it was a truly amazing experience. I can't tell you how many times were were going straight into oncoming traffic, going down a seemingly one way street, with motorcycles and bikes weaving in and out of the non-existent lanes with cars nearly on top of each other. We actually hit a pedestrian's suitcase at one point and Pam had to hold me inside the open carriage at another point as a sharp turn made my water bottle and her cousin's bag almost fly out of the open carriage. Pammy commented that it wasn't very smart for the mother seated sideways on the motorcycle in front of us to be carrying her baby in this busy traffic, but she agreed that those living in glass houses should not throw stones. (Our situation wasn't so much better.) Pam's cousin prefaced our short stop in Mumbai by saying that the city was originally meant for 1 million people, and now there are 15 million living there. They all seemed to be on top of each other the night of January 10th, and nearly crashing into my tuk tuk. But alas, I am seated barefoot at this internet cafe, alive and well to tell this story. Our next early morning flight was to the beach town of Goa where I am now. Pam, Sumit and I stayed at a comfortable hotel last night and saw a fun Kathakali dance performance at night in which the dancer solicited Pam's and my participation.
Pam and her cousin are taking off today and we have already parted ways. I'm now staying at a remote beach town part of Goa called Mandrem at the same hotel as my cousin Nancy (no, you can't really call it a hotel since it had no electricity or water when I checked in, but it came back on. http://www.ashtangamaui.com/aboutus.html Nancy's a well known yoga teacher who will be leading a retreat in these parts after I leave. I will be attending my own yoga retreat, a few thousand dollars cheaper than the one she's teaching. I'll write more again later! Write me a letter back if you're reading this!!!!! Love, and miss you guys.
Rajastan, the area of India in the north where we visited is known for puppetry and we enjoyed seeing private shows of indian snake charmers and kings while seated in the back room of the puppet maker's shop. (Pam had read in Fodor's that if you go into the shop and look nice you might receive an invitation.
Udaipur is apparently the site where the 1983 Jame's Bond movie "Octopussy" was filmed, and at 7 PM each night multiple venues would show it and there would be the sounds of machine guns and car crashes filling unpaved streets. Since I have arrived in India I am reminded of my experience in Nicaragua, eating in the company of flies who vomit on your food before they eat it to help break it down. (Pam appreciated knowing that during one of our meals.) Our next flight from Udaipur was cancelled due to fog, so we ended up redirected to Mumbai and spent the night there. Pam's cousin took us to a WONDERFUL seafood restaurant called Trishna http://travel.nytimes.com/travel/guides/asia/india/mumbai/restaurant-detail.html?vid=1154654653624 which was actually one of the best restaurants I have ever been to. So freaking tasty with excellent service. I asked Pam to take many pictures of me in front of the restaurant like five times since the meal was so satisfying, and she commented that I previously refused to have my picture taken in front of any monument or attraction during our time in India, but this restaurant is what I really wanted to remember. I definitely did NOT want to remember the ride in the tuk tuk to and from our hotel, although it was a truly amazing experience. I can't tell you how many times were were going straight into oncoming traffic, going down a seemingly one way street, with motorcycles and bikes weaving in and out of the non-existent lanes with cars nearly on top of each other. We actually hit a pedestrian's suitcase at one point and Pam had to hold me inside the open carriage at another point as a sharp turn made my water bottle and her cousin's bag almost fly out of the open carriage. Pammy commented that it wasn't very smart for the mother seated sideways on the motorcycle in front of us to be carrying her baby in this busy traffic, but she agreed that those living in glass houses should not throw stones. (Our situation wasn't so much better.) Pam's cousin prefaced our short stop in Mumbai by saying that the city was originally meant for 1 million people, and now there are 15 million living there. They all seemed to be on top of each other the night of January 10th, and nearly crashing into my tuk tuk. But alas, I am seated barefoot at this internet cafe, alive and well to tell this story. Our next early morning flight was to the beach town of Goa where I am now. Pam, Sumit and I stayed at a comfortable hotel last night and saw a fun Kathakali dance performance at night in which the dancer solicited Pam's and my participation.
Pam and her cousin are taking off today and we have already parted ways. I'm now staying at a remote beach town part of Goa called Mandrem at the same hotel as my cousin Nancy (no, you can't really call it a hotel since it had no electricity or water when I checked in, but it came back on. http://www.ashtangamaui.com/aboutus.html Nancy's a well known yoga teacher who will be leading a retreat in these parts after I leave. I will be attending my own yoga retreat, a few thousand dollars cheaper than the one she's teaching. I'll write more again later! Write me a letter back if you're reading this!!!!! Love, and miss you guys.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Japan
I agree with everyone who gave this country such high reviews. Japan rocks.
On January 2nd, I walked from one end of the city to the other. It happened to be one of the only two days of the year that the imperial palace is open. The path brought me to a reservoir that resembled Central Park on the Upper East side, people running et al.
On January 2nd, I walked from one end of the city to the other. It happened to be one of the only two days of the year that the imperial palace is open. The path brought me to a reservoir that resembled Central Park on the Upper East side, people running et al.
The most amazing part of the Imperial Palace scene were the lines. People stood in such an orderly manner to see the royal family wave for a few seconds. At one point there were throngs of people walking in a line from point A to point B and then from point B to point C. Being a master of trigonometry, I knew that walking along the hypotenuse was faster, and began to veer off track subconsciously. I learned very quickly that walking out of line is NOT done in this country. A nice officer chased after me and I retreated to single file. Later on when there were ZERO cars in the road, I didn't even think about jay walking. In this country, they abide by the rules.My friend who lives here had to apply to the government for permission to move, and as some of you know, the department of health has identified 13 million people in this country at risk for "metabolic disorder" and ordered them to excercise more and go on a diet. With control like that, no wonder the yen is so strong.
The hotel where I stayed my first night in Japan was quite luxurious with toilets that had a remote control on the side that warmed the seats. Many people here are embarrassed by the peeing sound and so there is a "FLUSH" command that makes a loud virtual flushing sound the entire time you're in the stall. Toilets like this were created in order to decrease water waste. Someone who lives here in Japan told me that since people were flushing continuously in order to drown out the noise they were making, a virtual flushing was deemed more eco-friendly.
Anyway, this week of New Years is a holiday time for the entire country. The most popular activity is to go to shrines and pray for a happy New Year.
I partook in lots of that during my first day of Tokyo, as well as eating street food and getting lost, asking people for directions. Those I encountered were incredibly gracious and friendly.
While waiting to get into some of one of the biggest shrines called Meiji Jing, they played advertisements on a big screen for thousands of people waiting to throw coins on the altar.
I took the night bus to Kyoto, (kinda like chinatown buses with lots of competition of brands for cheap prices) and then I found my way to Cathy's house. She's a fellow Townsend Harrisite from Flushing, Queens and is the sister of someone I used to play violin with in the All-City orchestra. She's just started the Jet program in August. I came to her countryside neighborhood just in time to go to her land-lady's house for a party. Lots of sake was served as well as dried squid and Udon noodles.
The next day I met a "Volunteer tour guide" suggested to me by lovely Nancy Fann. This guide, named Minako, showed me around Kyoto, a most beautiful city in the middle of the mountains.
Minako and I got along very well. She reminded me of myself the way she kept checking the maps and laughing.
To explain why many people stick up two fingers with the peace sign, let me call on Governor Schwarzerager for his help. Well maybe those are just for vitamin drinks, but people do stick up the two fingers here and say "Happy Happy."
If Japan weren't incredibly expensive I'd want to stay here a looooonnnng time.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Day That Never Ended
I was wrong about the multiple New Years this year. There were none at all. There was only continuous daylight. I seem to have lost a day of my life. Maybe I’ll get it back when I return in March.
The time difference is 17 hours ahead in Nee hong. A detail that some of you might have investigated beforehand if you were taking this trip. You also might have found out what airline you were flying before arriving at the airport this morning. I did not. I gave my passport to two airlines, ANA, and Japan Air only to find out that neither had any record of me. I knew my flight was supposed to leave at 11:40 AM, but I figured that the 11:35 flight with ANA or the 11:50 flight with Japan air was close enough. It wasn’t.
Luckily I knew that I booked my ticket with American airlines and luckily a man from Japan Air who was in disbelief that I had no sort of print out or record locator or confirmation number, directed me to the terminal to the right of Bradley international at LAX. American air was right there. I WAS going international so it seemed to make more sense to be at Bradley rather than the domestic American terminal. My dad’s cousin Irene seemed to agree with me when she dropped me there that morning-thanks Irene! (These details about lack of preparation was what I warned my mother about when I gave her my blog address, preparing her for more cause to worry. You’re a strong woman mom.)
I’ve never crossed the Pacific before. It’s quite lovely (sorry, I just watched the movie Duchess on the plane and I’m writing like Kyra Knightly.) I’ve never shown up to a country alone where I don’t speak the language either. I’ve also never taken a trip by myself for more than a month, going to multiple destinations. The closest I came was renting an apartment in Argentina for about a month, but I did speak Spanish. Oy vey. Dios mio.
In some ways I’m a very adept traveler. I love learning a new language and navigating a city on my own, familiarizing myself with their public transportation system and getting around. The steward asked me if I worked for the government today on the plane because I think I must have a look of determination practicing Japanese and taking notes, just like I did at the only German language meetup I ever went to. (Shout out to Charlie).
On the other hand, I’m a lousy traveler, losing things every second (I just picked up my digital camera from enterprise this morning. I left it in the car after my trip to Death Valley this weekend.) I plan to wear my passport and wallet in my money belt at all time for this reason, which gives the illusion of a pot belly under my shirt.
Back to the positives, the steward mistakenly gave me a Japanese customs card, completely in Japanese characters and I managed for fill out about half of it correctly. That was with matching up the characters from another form to decipher their meaning, so it wasn’t so hard. I also asked the help of a nice Japanese man on my flight who keeps passing by my seat to go to the bathroom and smiling. Poor girl, he might be thinking. Still trying to figure out where to write her name.
The time difference is 17 hours ahead in Nee hong. A detail that some of you might have investigated beforehand if you were taking this trip. You also might have found out what airline you were flying before arriving at the airport this morning. I did not. I gave my passport to two airlines, ANA, and Japan Air only to find out that neither had any record of me. I knew my flight was supposed to leave at 11:40 AM, but I figured that the 11:35 flight with ANA or the 11:50 flight with Japan air was close enough. It wasn’t.
Luckily I knew that I booked my ticket with American airlines and luckily a man from Japan Air who was in disbelief that I had no sort of print out or record locator or confirmation number, directed me to the terminal to the right of Bradley international at LAX. American air was right there. I WAS going international so it seemed to make more sense to be at Bradley rather than the domestic American terminal. My dad’s cousin Irene seemed to agree with me when she dropped me there that morning-thanks Irene! (These details about lack of preparation was what I warned my mother about when I gave her my blog address, preparing her for more cause to worry. You’re a strong woman mom.)
I’ve never crossed the Pacific before. It’s quite lovely (sorry, I just watched the movie Duchess on the plane and I’m writing like Kyra Knightly.) I’ve never shown up to a country alone where I don’t speak the language either. I’ve also never taken a trip by myself for more than a month, going to multiple destinations. The closest I came was renting an apartment in Argentina for about a month, but I did speak Spanish. Oy vey. Dios mio.
In some ways I’m a very adept traveler. I love learning a new language and navigating a city on my own, familiarizing myself with their public transportation system and getting around. The steward asked me if I worked for the government today on the plane because I think I must have a look of determination practicing Japanese and taking notes, just like I did at the only German language meetup I ever went to. (Shout out to Charlie).
On the other hand, I’m a lousy traveler, losing things every second (I just picked up my digital camera from enterprise this morning. I left it in the car after my trip to Death Valley this weekend.) I plan to wear my passport and wallet in my money belt at all time for this reason, which gives the illusion of a pot belly under my shirt.
Back to the positives, the steward mistakenly gave me a Japanese customs card, completely in Japanese characters and I managed for fill out about half of it correctly. That was with matching up the characters from another form to decipher their meaning, so it wasn’t so hard. I also asked the help of a nice Japanese man on my flight who keeps passing by my seat to go to the bathroom and smiling. Poor girl, he might be thinking. Still trying to figure out where to write her name.
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