Boy!

Holi was gorgeous - image three purple men on a motorcycle zooming by saying "happy holi" over a huge puddle of fuscia... venturing out into the streets flanked by israelis and canadians, watching teenage boys with silver faces dump buckets of teal blue from the roof... as if india could get more colorful... leading the others into the hari ram temple and watching this pure atmosphere turn into a conga-line of rainbow-colored westerners (the swami cracks a smile).

Well, i have news... i like a boy!!! I didn"t know if it was possible, but it is! He is the cutest boy i've ever seen, 25, half israeli half dutch, and here to learn indian music! He is learning bansuri flute! And he plays it so sweetly, and he is really great, and things are very sweet, and now I am venturing into the new world of not analyzing. More news when non-analysis gives way to structured non-partial thought.

Happy Holi!

Tomorrow is the Holi Festival and already young boys are running around with pre-game excitement, waterballoons and jugs of paint, silver nylon pants, and hands and faces covered in purple, blue, green, red. I am told I should not go outside tomorrow before 2 pm when the crowd will all take to the ghats for a mass bath, washing their colors into the big holy sewer - mother ganga...

Tonight was a full moon, and the evening before holi is an evening of ceremonial fires - in the alleyways, piles of garbage are being offered up to the heavens.

Tonight I finally took Ravi up on his offer to show me real Indian Thali - full meal involving salad, sabjee (veggies), chapati, rice, daal, curd, pickles, etc. He asked me to join him a few days ago, but as I have had some kind of stomach bug (all my other complaints were just little aches, this was the first real deal) I was not able to take him up. Yesterday he took me to a doctor and paid for my 25 cent consultation, during which I given the prognosis of "Fine, but should eat more curd". The doctor was right!

So today I said I am coming over for sure. I arrived at seven at the music school, which is one of the rooms in his home where he lives with his mother, younger sister, and sometimes older brother who is now touring - he is a renowned tabla player. The Baba School of Music, which is just a room in the place, is part of a small castle-like complex that is comprised mostly of the Ganapati Guest House - a bit over my budget, but I will likely move in later this week for convenience sake. For a little while we jam - i play some bhajans on the harmonium, he on the tabla, then I join the rhythm on the djembe. He does some amazing western improvisation on the tabla with a djembe under his arm... hiphop beats with indian style. I find out that he is just improvising! very cool. So we go over to the guest house side that has a view overlooking the ganges and I ask about life in Varanasi and such things...

Ravi has lived here his whole life. Some background info - he is 22, brahmin, senior at Benaras Hindu University, tabla major. As a child he used to swim the ganga every day. He would get sick, but he tells me that if you put that water in a bottle, 1 year later it will not have spoiled. (this is actually scientific fact - the ganges has proven purifying qualities that are beyond science's comprehension).

I ask why he likes Varanasi, and he tells me a few of the fable, some of the kings who lived here, the musicians, how Hanuman's energy is here, etc. This building is overlooking Meer Ghat and he tells me that it is named after Mirabai - the princess who left her home and devoted her life to singing bhajans for Krishna. I have heard of her - she has goddess status, and I didn't realize she was a real person, but this very building is where she lived, legend says. She built it herself. All the castles overlooking the ghats belonged to kings, says Ravi. I say it is very auspicious to have a music school in the home of Mirabai!

Later we go back and his mother has prepared the most delicious indian meal I have had yet in india - by far... we put ghee in the daal and it tastes like butter. She makes indian excuses about having made it quickly and all that, and I just say "Mataji, bahut bahut badiyaaa! Danyavad!" (respected mother, very very excellent! Thank you!)

Am I "Fraternizin' with the locals"? Anyway, he is a very nice friend. And I have to run - potty emergency. more later.

Indian Music World

I am in the world of Indian Music - partly because I don't like going outside for much else. I am staying in the mostly israeli guest house where you don't ever have to leave - there is internet, tv, pool, a safe restaurant, laundry, money changer, travel agent, everything. And lots of hebrew conversation - time for me to let my mind wander.

Yesterday my body detoxified in a way I've never seen before. I won't go into details, but this morning my tongue was brown! I hadn't eaten anything brown, just mashed potatos all day to help my tummy, and still my tongue was covered in brown. Today I feel pretty good! (sorry if that was gross).

I have taken four days of music lessons. My tabla (the two indian drums) teacher is 22 and rather "hip" for an indian dude. My vocal teacher is a professional singer, very humble and mild and excellent at teaching. I am enjoying hte lessons, but everyone here is on their way north for trekking and I am feeling the itch to go. Varanasi really gets to you after a bit... you go outside into the labrynth of narrow stone alleyways (beautiful) and are bombarded with cowshit, bored indian men saying "hello Madam! Which country! Hello?!?!" (Everyone has to say something), people offering all range of goods and services, kids playing cricket in narrow lanes, and the full spectrum of shops, burning things, crazy smells, pujas, music, everything. It is really overwhelming. Beautiful when you are in the mood, horrifying when you just ate undercooked chickpeas.

For me, it is nearly impossible not to get lost every time I leave the guest house. The nice thing is, on one side there is the ganges river, on the other side there is a main road. So you can get found pretty easily, but I need to give 20 minutes to find my music school which is only 2 minutes away (and I've gone there and back at least 10 times already).

I think the completely chilling out mind state of Rishikesh was very necessary given my current pursuit. Never before in my life have I been able to sit for hours and practice an instrument properly, and now after my lessons I take the tabla outside and just Dha... Dha... Tara... Kita... slowly, over and over and over.

I miss Rishikesh.

Ah, India...

Raag and Taal

I'm sorry, I think I won't finish the last posting... but I will summarize - vrindavan was completely different. beautiful, amazing, everything happening with exquisite perfection. Pete is finishing a book about... krishna? the next stage - manjuri bhav where we will all experience the state of the eternal vibration of dissipation/creation... a brilliant theory, I will explain someday maybe. but he lives now in a divine play, a krishna lila... seeing everything as part of this one motion... amazing and true.

and about that... music...

Music is a perfect example of how we may be in unity and duality together... seeing all the whales and calling them the ocean. In indian music, every scale (raag) and every beat (taal) is part of the cosmos - you are creating all the colors of the heart. every color. but colors only have emotional meaning in relationship, as does everything. sometimes it is hard to pay attention to this music because it is a bit boring, but when you are learning it you realize that it really is painting your heart - each note you ride, you become... you feel things, all things, with intense sense of beauty... and that is how the universe is - all the colors are beautiful, you just have to let them all paint in your heart - feel them deeply and musically.

And I'm not even being that figurative here... you really do feel this music (maybe all music) in your heart, all the notes in different ways, all flavors of love.

And stop worrying, you worriers. India is Amazing...

Welcome to Varanasi,

Last night i arrived in varanasi, land of the dying hoping to end the cycle of birth and death, land of siva the destroyer, land of classical music... i have been dreaming of this place for years and last night i got off the crazy 24-hour train ride with two new israeli companions. after getting dropped off somewhere - not where we'd hoped - we took to the ghats to walk along and find Shanti guest house... struggling under heavy packs, i step in cow shit that is now all over my toes. hello Siva. but the ghats are so incredible - 40, 50 concrete stairs lining the river, to our left is up to the huge city, busy winding street and huge concrete building showing the brick beneath in gorgeous broken pieces, and to my right, the ganges in the dark with a light haze... when we can barely walk anymore, we arrive - the burning ghat - it would not have been my choice to see this on the first night, but this is where we are meeting others, so we go towards the the steps with numerous piles of burning fires, burning humans lives away to salvation, bright orange, and lighting up the indian faces, concrete jungles, and shimmering river of purification... up we go, and arrive at shanti guest house where i am today in a community of israelis, belly-aching, sweating from every pore, and quite content.

on the train i finally had the chance to write, and as i feel i have been simplifying too much in this journal, and i am not well from the train food, i would like to copy you a few pages - we will see how far we get. but this is all to recap the journey thus far in greater detail. enjoy.

i came from vrindavan - 3 days with my hindu hosts watching them make pilgrimage and feeling stuck - wanting to break off on my own to allow life to happen in the ways that you need requires a certain mind state... i was not there, stifled, unexpressive. i stayed long enough tthat i might not insult them ortrample my free will... they helped me, of corse to get used to the place, who i can trust, what food is safe, how to get to the bus... once on the bus i am hesitant to take it with only 2 other men on board and now i experience the language barrier as i can not find out if others will be joining us later or if i can switch tickets and go tomorrow… no luck. I have a strong intuition that I should just go. One of the men is very helpful and a young hare krishna gets on, okay, jayenge, we go. But I should have watched what I wished for. At the next stop, the bus fills to brim with indian men. It is night, and I am squished up in luxury coach, referring to the luxury of 60-yr-old school bus, for an overnight trip hiding in my sweatshipr so no one will see m, pretending to be asleep and about to have tmost uncomforable night as the dude next to me falls asleep with his elbow in my ribs and his thigh squished up to mine – and this even wit the seat on his left empty…

Well I arrive, and an hour early. It is still dark. I have no clue how to get to rishikesh, but rikshaws pick me up right outside the bus – 150 rupee, probably too much, but I just want to get there. I am droped off in ram jhula – I say parmrath ashram, and I’m pointed across the brige. The rickshaw can’t go, so I am off on foot. The ashram isn’t too far, but when I arrive in registration they aare aking for $300 US. This is too much. They wan’t let me come for a few days. What to do? I will try the sivananda ashram. I cross back and navigate through Siv – which is a big free hospital. Quite different. In the office they, as expected, ask if I have written for a reservation. Even my telling them about being staff for 7 months does nothing. They send me next door. I’m not feeling the vibe there either. I go back out. Where to now? A yoga class lets out a nd I see westerners. I go over seeking help, but I’m not sure what I ‘mlooking for, what to ask?

I don’t feel the vibe from them either… well… the only thing left is , I have a date with the Ganges as per my dream had over a year ago where a voice said “pay attention to how you feel the first time you sit at the banks of the Ganges”… so I guess it’s a good time for this. In front of me are ghats down. It’s not like a beach, like in the dream, but good enough. I go down and sit in padmasan and focus on how I fell – I see light dancing on the water and I fell… like everything is going to be okay. I see 2 westerners sitting nearby and I don’t quite know what to say o how to approach but I just relax, and sit. Within seconds they get up and notice me. The guy smiles and says ‘did you just get here?” “yeah” “Are you looking for a place to stay?” YES! And that waas it. We go for chai in a nearby shop and I have lunch. They tell me about a place mile or so away called bombay guest house where there are many ‘really chill’ travellers laying music every night and just good energy – perfect! They are going to the yoga conference, and though the bombay is usually hard to score a room at, because they just left, I have a chance… I get a nice room and that night I share my voice around an indoor/outdoor fire with many nice new wetsern traveller faces. By the next evening I have met Sanjeev and Misha at a restaurant next door and only somewhat involved in the bombay, but their company disappoints me and misha pursues me too hard . The next day I discover the bombay scene and a new world begins…

Onward?

Can I be the first to leave this party? This is what travelling is like. We have gelled, our group, quite well. No one wants to leave, but no one really has to, most of these lovlies are here for several months. I am feeling so strongly that I am fighting with time. I want to stay!!!! There are so many places to explore! So many conversations to have! This is why life. This is why reality. This is why duality... because yay people! Yay places, yay feelings, yay every single perspective of reality, every road-side chai wallah, every cow, every ganges beach. everything.

Yesterday was beautiful - one conversation to another. I am learning so much here, so much about Israel! haha... But it is important and they are a fascinating bunch and I think the tension of their world, the polarity, the beauty of the perspective, I think it makes strong, intelligent people.

I really am a sponge - picking up all the little mannerisms, the indian head bob, the israeli "tst", the manner of speaking when you are translating in your head and picking words carefully. Being a sponge works for me. I used to think I knew something, now I think I know only one thing - me. And everything else is a beautiful maze, a fascinating story. Knowing something is lonely, knowing nothing is full. You are only the richest when you have nothing, you are the poorest when you have one thing. and the rest is a pointless struggle. I have emptied out and am soaking in the world.

I really love you all. I really do.

Travel buzz

Hi,

I have been a week and half in Rishikesh now... two weeks almost? Here is a place where occasionally someone will say "Have we confirmed that today is Thursday?" But most often, no one really cares. I am the only one with a watch as far as I can tell. I am extremely comfortable here, and though most of the day is spent in restaurants, I am learning a whole whole lot just by conversing with this international crew.

A note about Israelis - these really are the chosen ones! Chosen for the most beautiful faces you've ever seen - really I never seen a more attractive group of people. And so smart, too. I am getting such great perspective on being American... one idea that struck me today - it is amazing how American are so afraid of the poverty of the rest of the world, but Americans have some of the Worst! I have seen nothing in India yet that has made me nauseous - not even the kids at the train stations with dirty legs. Because you can joke with them, and they dance about. but poverty in america the whole shadow society... it is scary. It is angry.

Another thing - people say it is very rare to find an American while travelling. We are the odd-balls here (I enjoy being a minority - quite a thrill). And even more rare is an American worth talking to. We have a reputation folks, though it is a warm loving one - happy that we are spreading democracy, but we are shallow as all hell... what to do.

Philosophically speaking, I am getting tired of speaking philosophically...

But you know I'll never statiate with this though, because reality is a many sided coin and each side enhances and contradicts and comments upon, and destroys, and elevates the last one. Every theory I hear is a step around and wow! yeah!

And I am loving the theory of being non-theoretical... you know, just be. Just be because blah blah blah... :)

Will I motivate to Varanasi? Bangalore? the Himalayas? I don't really care so much. I'm happy here, there, around...

Shanti shanti shanti (peace.)

Crash Course in Radha-Krishna 2

Hi,

If you happened to have been privy to last posting, cool, but I have erased it now... I don't know, there was just too much to say and too many thoughts and thoughts are changing about things, and I want to process everything first --

I met a very interesting philosopher and had a very interesting advneture where I learned about the depth of Radha-Krishna philosophy. These indians, man, they are deep. :)

Everything is beautiful and magical and wow. But before I can comment, I need to take a very long nap.

om om, love.

Bombay Guest House

It is hard to believe I have only been here 5 days. I was swooped up into the perfect place and it is like being in college with no rules, no classes, no time, no worries, and the people are all butterflies. The people - seriously - I have never met more easy-going, accepting, open, beautiful people in my life. I Mean that. The guest house is full of such truly genuine, kind, treasures of people, I feel I have known them my whole life. The conversation is beyond intriguing, the relaxed-ness is beyond time, the stories are beyond enlightening, the vibe is beyond kind. I have also never been in a place where more magical things happen - it is as if the universe took the cruxes of the most interesting stories and placed them in one city:

Today, I was wandering through the open center square at the guest house - filtering water or whatnot - and the indian man who plays the Been is sitting filling the space with bag-pipe and flute-like sounds (the beautiful Been), and Chris Rae picks up the drum, and suddenly we are dancing around in the most ecstatic dance I have ever experienced - the sun bright, the music enchanting, people spontaneously moving - all of a sudden - there was no pretense, no invitation, no self-consciousness, no expectation - it just was the perfect moment to break out in dance and we danced danced danced... the moment only lasted a few minutes, but it was a timeless few minutes - magical, like so many of these moments. IF you want to know what I mean, I think you should come to India

Om Shanti

Bombay Guest House, and back to

Land of Many Rishis

Well Blogger seems to want to erase my post every time I get started today, so I'll keep it brief...

Rishikesh is definitely the place to recoup and reground in your own civilization....

Every time I have a question, I meet someone who shows me the answer. I am gaining new faith in the perfection of things, in intuition, and trust. I met so many interesting people and am staying in a guest house that is all young "hippies" who stay up around an indoor fire making music all night. I just arrived yesterday, but already I walk around town and see familiar people going to this yoga class, or that breakfast date. It is a small town of tourists, pilgrims, all mixed in with India and the Himalayan foothills, and the flowing Ganges.