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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ui_6jBMSU9s

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ug8KM_nTkkU&NR=1

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.

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.