Om Vidya

Sikkim, Darjeeling, Varanasi, Delhi, Bombay, London, Home and Beyond...

2005-04-25T16:41:00.000-07:00

Hey there,

Sorry, folks, for dropping you by the wayside there. After the trek there was a whirlwind of "getting home" that took place and I got swept up, shaken about, and dropped frazzled, dazed, jetlagged, slightly ill, and glowing back in the homeland of San Francisco, California. (notice the peppering of properly-used commas).

Let me catch you up, then. my goodness let's look...

"Just jump!" says Nuphar as I stand on a rock in the river that defines the border of Sikkim, facing a long stretch of running water to the next step. We are hopping across the border in search of red panda and whatever else might appear. And in that moment I am reminded of the postcard I was given from Pete the morning I decided to go back to Vrindavan. The postcard was of Radha and Krishna and on the back it said "Radha-rani, Jump." Signed, "Pitamba". This was the best advice I'd been given in a long time. I took it constantly since that day. And today I shut off my mind and say jump and... the rock is much closer than I'd thought. On the other side Nuphar meets me with open arms and says "This is FUN!"

Back up. On the morning of the trek, Nuphar and I take it easy and have a look at our Guest House's trek journal where people post valuable information and experiences. Most people went the normal way around the Singalila route, which involves probably a hundred kilometers (I'm a metric convert) along the Nepal border, culminating in Everest views, and then down along Sikkim - India's mountain state that borders China and Bhutan. The best comment is always about a place on the way back called Gorkhey where people wished they had planned a few days to stay and explore. So, being "chilled out", Noof and I decide to go backwards and just head to that spot, then turn around.

We jeep it up to a village called Rimbick and Noofy has the runs, so we decide to enjoy a nice dinner of deep fried tibetan bread, explore the Buddhist monastery across the street, and call it a night. We eat on the lawn of a nice guest house and hop around doing handstands and dancing, and chasing pigeons, and Noof shows me some Capoeira. At the monastery, we see pairs of scarlet-clad young men doing some strange business of clapping, chanting, and speaking with fervor at another monk seated in front. Nuphar says "I saw that on National Geographic channel". The english teacher finds us and explains that they are taking turns debating today's morning lecture... and that he saw us on the lawn of the Guest House doing capoeira... which he saw once on the National Geographic Channel. wow.... er, did he see us smooching?

The tibetan bread did the trick and the next day we are off to the next village where we get comfy and runsy again at a very very cute family GH, and hole up again and break out the new watercolor set.

The next day we set off early for Gorkhey, followed by the guest house's beautiful orange doggy (who we name "doggy"). Doggy follows us and encourages us the whole way, going up incredibly steep inclines - which are nothing for the now recovered Noof, but are extremely strenuous for the little wee finkle-lady. Luckily for me, Noof pushing me up the hills evens things out a bit. When we arrive at the surrounding villages of Gorkhey, however, all body aches are forgotten as the forest gives way to mist-covered fields of flowers and potatoes, a large running river with perfect dark round rocks, and the Sikkim jungle leading away into the distance. We have arrived in... The Shire.

Everyone recommended the Shanti Lodge, not the corporate-owned trekkers huts, and we get a genuine family welcome at this old local home of Nepalis, with no electricity, and generations all under a few small wooden roofs. Noof and I watch a misty sunset and tell eachother never to forget this moment. He reminds me not to forget the sounds - and when I let go into the music of the himalayan country, I feel the incredible peace of this place, and the love between he and I.

Doggy disappears the next day, and though I totally forget about him, I occasionally spot Nuphar off scampering about looking for him.

It is amazing to see how the family lives. Nuphar and I have the same comment - it's all about fire. We offer a group of Nepalis a new English-ized interpretation to their most popular song -- "Resampirili resampirili... you are a donkey, I am a monkey, resampirili"... and later we hear them outside the window singing our words with delight and laughter.

The next day, on our way back, Doggy jumps out of the grass and greets us with kisses and a big waggly tail. When we arrive at her home, her puppy, and her owners are sooo happy. They say it is very unusual for her to do that... How did we get so lucky?

When we get back to Rimbick (myself completely wiped out), we just miss the last jeep back to Darjeeling - and our train to Varanasi will leave the following day. There is no way that we can stay in Rimbick and I can make all my flights lined up for the next few days. Trains to Varanasi are booked for weeks. Our only option is a school bus of high-schoolers on a field trip leaving Rimbick that afternoon. We go to the teachers and plead and offer to ride in the aisle or on the roof. And finally, as they are leaving, they squish a few kids together and let us on (with two seats!). It is the loudest bus I've ever been on, as the boys and girls are having a singing competition of sorts - surprisingly this is filled with mostly American top 40 from the 80s 90s and Today.

I can barely believe my reaction upon reaching Varanasi.... VARANASI! I missed the place soooo much!!! I love the place soooo much! All the crazy "big balagaan" streets, all of our favorite indians, our favorite places, the river, the boats, the colors, the sun, the big big crazy city... all of it. Once you know it, it is -- completely irreplacably incredible.

My plane is delayed for 6 hours in the Varanasi airport, and I contemplate going back to surprise Noofy with just a few more kisses goodbye... the utter happiness of that thought is so much stronger than I expected. I'm smitten. On the trek my mind had gotten to asking all the questions about future and what now and what if and how can this ever work and what the heaven is love anyway and how can we be so sure and.... and I just turned to him and jammed it all into one frustrated question "Who are you?" and he smiled calmly and replied "A glimpse." And... oh yeah... right.

I miss my connection to Bombay so i'm put up in a 5-star hotel in Delhi for a fantastic 2 hours of sleep. I'd never been in a hotel room that huge before in my life, and I had certainly never been in a room with such clean sheets during my whole stay in the country. The following morning I arrive in Delhi with just enough time to hop a crazy ride to Shanta's suburban apartment and grab my computer and get a scolding for not staying longer. The next night is spent in the London airport where I do the budget traveller thing and sleep on the seats at the arrival gate. A nice Canadian spots my "just back from India" vibe and we keep each other company and watch each others' things. At 10:30am the next day, there is no guessing about whether I'll ever make it home... I'm on the plane to San Francisco.

All in all the travelling back is fine. I lose all grasp on time and sleep scheduling so the jetlag is less drastic, though still somewhat ridiculously bad and 6 days later I am still exhauted by 8:30pm - or maybe I'm just getting old.

Back in SF, I am realizing what a fantastic job Greg did of promoting our company. Neither of us will earn a cent until next fall, but we are working with several school districts who love us, and our name is out there as a reputable company. No one can believe we just started 4 months ago. Today I even taught a piano class! And it was such great fun! And I am teaching another one tomorrow. I love the idea that I can pretty much teach whatever I want. I am looking forward to when we begin working with high schools and I can start an art portfolio class... someday.

Now I just have to get a parttime summer job, move to Santa Cruz, build a fantastic social life, and import one very beautiful amazing Israeli.

And I guess that's all I have to say about my trip to India....

I don't know why I had to go on this trip, but I actually Really Had To. I can't explain it right now... I don't know what exactly I found. I don't know what exactly I have learned, what I have changed, what I have dealt with, but something... something very subtle... has lifted. I no longer feel so attached to "spirituality", though I do, but in a less urgent way. I no longer feel so in awe of the Rest of the World, though I have gained an immense respect for it, and a much more realistic idea of how truly small and far away America is (and underrepresented in the travel circle).

I no longer feel so "young" about things... but in a good way... maybe "bright eyed and bushy tailed" has given way to truly loving and respecting the incredible multi-sided THAT WHICH IS.

And so, onward.

And thank you for reading...

Himalayan Foothills (2)

2005-04-10T07:33:00.000-07:00

Everyone should make plans right now to visit Darjeeling. This place is the most tolerable, friendly, clean, safe, and happy part of india I have seen yet! That is not to say it is the best, but it is certainly easier on the lungs, on the brain, on the patience, and on the nerves.

After the train ride, which was the compulsory 4 hours late, Nuphar, 2 british girls, and I took a jeep with a slew of crammed Indians. I didn't see a mountain in sight when we arrived, but suddenly we were going up up up... 3 hours later we were up 600 feet into the himalayas surrounded by twisty roads, sheer drops down soil steps filled with lush green tea leaves, with no speed limit except inspirational slogans encouraging one to slow down, enjoy life, etc. We were all a bit nauseous upon arrival, but feeling the first cool air (the first moments where we weren't completely sticky with pouring sweat), the first clean breaths, and the first sounds of naural forest life - that we'd had in weeks.

We were shocked to see such healthy glowing nepali and tibetan people, such european buildings, such healhy animals, clean beggar-free streets, and TASTY FOOD, not to mention great tea! We spent yesterday exploring the city, and found a gorgeous botanical garden without a single vendor, without even a donation box!

Through the trees and around every corner you are blessed with view of mountains, tea fields, colorful cities stacked on steep inclines, and, in the clear morning, the white tops of the most famous mountain peaks in the world.

Today we are going on a 3 to 5 day trek through villages and monastaries. I think it is the Sighalila trek or something like that...

And then I'm on my way home!

Darjeeling with Darling-ji

2005-04-08T02:28:00.000-07:00

Quick note to say I am on my way to the beautiful himalayas for a trek in the tea fields... maybe with a view of everest... we'll hope.

And I really like this boy...

Pictures!!

2005-04-04T03:30:00.000-07:00

I have been able to post pictures!

http://photos.yahoo.com/reneefinkelstein

Yesterday Nuphar and I had an idea to make pizza from scratch... and we did it! We did it with all Indian ingrediants, hunting them down, trying to communicate to buy them, not finding any italian spices in all of india... then going to our tabla teacher/friend 's house, who did not have an oven as it turns out, and figuring out how to use a chapati-maker, and making sauce while the non-english-speaking family is sticking hands in here and there to change everything... and viola! We made the best paneer-chapati pizza in the universe!

Today

2005-04-01T00:17:00.000-08:00

I've decided I'm not coming home. Today I threw my passport in the ganga and put on Orange robes and shaved my head and renounced the world.

April Fools - I knew I'd get you on that one.

I have found a new guest House, the Suraj, which is so chill and nice. I have an amazing room with a bathroom for $2.50. Tomorrow, Nuphar and I and some others are going to make pizza and they are going to let us bake it in the house oven. I'm really enjoying Varanasi, the crazy energy, the heat, the yummy indian sweets (Gulab Jamon!!!), the amazing lighting of this place, the travellers, the Indians, the music, the theater... went over to the University the other day and got to watch a Classical Dance class, a vocal music class, and walked through the museum (which had no explanations for anything, and sometimes just hand-written titles) but some nice things.

Music lessons are getting intense - I am doing things with my voice that I never imagined I could do! Like, singing these Raags (which are so deliciously beautiful) sometimes notes just come out, and you just hop around a note, decorate it with your feeling for it... amazing, this music... amazing. And tabla is tricky, but starting to sound like a tabla, almost.

and this guy (Nuphar) is totally tripping my shit (as Ines would say)...

wow.

Boy!

2005-03-28T10:05:00.000-08:00

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!

2005-03-25T09:18:00.000-08:00

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

2005-03-23T02:27:00.000-08:00

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

2005-03-19T22:50:00.000-08:00

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,

2005-03-18T01:26:00.000-08:00

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…

Let’s star in the the corner room where Rachel knits away her problems with mother, we sit at night – aton, efrat, sohmer, and I asking questions about life on a kibbut cigarette smoke entering lungs, condle-lit room, the room where I entered one night to a full house – shyamali, then brand new – I barely remember having told her about sanjeev, about vrindavan, but she told the guy with the receeding hairline (pete) that he should meet me. He also thinks he is jesus. Okay, I say, what’s your message – he is right on, funny, and gentle with his message of the depth of the krishna philosophy. it doesn't matter who you are, it is only the less evolved who are concerned with this - most messengers these days have a sieve of propriety. a night of philosophical journeying ending with hands held, and invitation back to vrindavan to help him with the philosophy to finish his book, a hug that ends uncomfortably, and a whole new idea about the universe. The next morning breakfast over in the ganga-view there is a seat open for me in front of pete and shyamali (his girlfriend), and though I see efrats eyes missing me from another table, that’s okay, I’ll sit where I’ve gotten the invite – she’ll have to be louder, and there’s plenty of time for that.. Jesus is leaving today. :) Chris Ray is here today, ((now I miss him)) and for some reason the conversation is beyond me – too tired. After, though, it has been decided that I am going back to Vrindavan…

I am sad about leaving efrat, but I know better now. I have to let go. I leave her anote… want to make sure she knows that I think she is beautiful… we met a few nights ago, when I invited her to the table with sanjeev and he went into his whole story – being an eagle with a telecom idea, being protected by an orange light, being the messiah, so much detail to tell… The next day she and I hung out with Chris Ray, waterfalls, Shanti-mai’s satsang. We are becoming friends… but she comes by after we decide to wait until the following morning to leave, and says she was wanting to go. Come! And then at sunset Puja she has decided to come, regardless of her sister meeting her here tomorrow, or of shivaratri falling sadly in the middle of the journey – will we miss glorious kirtan all night? I also don’t want to let go of this, but a journey wi/”jesus” (a very low messenger who will help our generation), and the girl who is becoming the center of my world, this is much more important. The following morning at 5am efrat is ready ouside my room, and though there were 10 people on the roof yesterday for my free yoga class, I let go of rishikesh, and we depart for a beautiful incredible adventure…

I will finish this later, the best part. om. love.

Onward?

2005-03-14T22:27:00.000-08:00

As you can imagine, I fell in love.
As you can imagine, the feeling was mutual.
As you can imagine, she wants to let it go.
As you can imagine, I don't.

I'm ready to change this story. I'm tired of telling it. It sucks. I must be missing something, but I don't know what.

Ah well...

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

2005-03-13T00:02:00.000-08:00

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

2005-03-10T04:10:00.000-08:00

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

2005-03-06T03:51:00.001-08:00

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

2005-03-06T03:51:00.000-08:00

Land of Many Rishis

2005-03-01T19:57:00.000-08:00

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.

Onward to Rishikesh

2005-02-28T03:46:00.000-08:00

This morning, seeing more temples was Exactly what I Didn't Want To Do, but I was convinced to my chagrin... well, I suppose I would've missed out on several animatronic "life of Krisna"s, and they were vaguely inspiring, so there you go.

Here in the internet place, while waiting the compulsory half hour for the guy to figure out how to connect you, a nice Hari Krisna got right into the talk, and subsequently tried to convince me that I should go to Mayura for Anapurna festival, mid-end of March... I wish I knew a little more about the HKs, but I suppose I could go across to Iskcon and watch for a little while...

Not very much more time in Krisna-land though, I am off to Rishikesh on a coach bus at 10. Tomorrow starts the "international yoga conference" which is both happy and suspect - happy to meet some "westerners", talk out some thoughts, hear some tales, maybe meet someone to accompany to the next spot, but suspect about mass packaged spirituality, as always. Shivananda is somewhere within the same complex on the Ganges, so I can always hop over there if need be - I am coming to respect Sivananda Ashram very much... if anything, they were only into sustaining themselves and those who wish to do their practice, not profiting, not converting.

I wrote a poem about music this morning, to share:

That Which Is
Let me sing you
Let me paint you with my voice
To make love to all your lines
Let me touch the universe
Just to let it know
That at this moment
It is all that exists
Let me place the light on the Mountains
And in the eyes
Let me join in your ecstacy
That which Is
And help you to create
What is already there.

... something like that.

I want to tell you my dream about the Ganga, but I am wrestling with the thought that it would only be in search of validation... so many dreams have been gaining significance in this beautiful land.

Hari Bol! :)

About pictures - I left the camera adapter in Amsterdam, but I am searching around, maybe someone has one - I wish I could show you this beautiful world... but I will come home with exactly 100 of the best photos to share.

Oh - and about "who are these people" - Shanta is a 50-smthg woman who I met in the kitchen at Sivananda in NY last year. She is my favorite swami's sister-in-law. She invited me incessantly to stop by when I went to India, so I went to her first in Bombay!

And about my plan - now it is "Study Music"... I have had numerous dreams, usually involving the rivers here. Sometimes with a voice that tells me something. One pair of dreams were waking up to song saying "go east" while watching the landscape move while in a boat going east, then the next night waking to a song saying "to study music". Others were about specific lives - as a Brahmin priest on the Ganges, as one of someones many wives... one just walking along the Yamuna... so I guess I've given a brief overview of the dreams... I don't really know exactly what I'm doing here, more here to find out.

Well, I must find some info, so I'm off. Next you hear I'll have seen the Ganga...

Tammy - stop by India! and where are the others? (Gill?) And others -sorry you have to register on here to post, email is great too, thanks... love to hear from you all... om om.

Mathura

2005-02-27T03:58:00.000-08:00

I don't know if this will post - this ramshackle internet place is... wow. Anywho, I don't know if any of you are reading this anymore, please just say hi if you are... it is lonely seeing no comments (Thanks tammy and deena - good advice, and happy to hear from you!).

Where to begin - this place really makes me understand the absurdity that in the US we have made such order of nothingness. Yesterday we drove all around the city of Mathura to all of Krisna and Radha's childhood and birth places (so they say). I can't help but feel that Shanta and Whatserface's faith is being exploited around every corner. Who are these swami's presiding over these holy temples and asking for money? Shanta and sister don't know either. I have taken to looking, then wandering off, and I'll tell you, after three days of tagging along with the pilgrim thing, I could do without seeing another Krisna temple for a long long time.

But what was so beautiful to me were the villages along the roads - the cow patty jungles, hay houses, dark women in colorful saris carrying pots on their heads... so much texture, so much color....

India has a soundtrack - there is music playing, and noises all over. But occasionally one voice will pierce through right into the center of my chest and i will feel something i can hardly explain, but I will try -- It is as if you have caught the slight scent of your first home in the air and for some brief moment you are transported into the depths of lost memories, feelings, moments almost recognizable from their slight coloring entering the mind, but also still intangible, ungraspable, the whole moment just out of reach... but you now feel drawn to that scent, you want to remember what it was like - your first memory, your first moment, the closest thing to your center, your home, your true origin, the deepest place you could ever reach... all your life you are just searching for the purity of that first place and now... you can almost feel it.

Yesterday there was one bhajan playing from a speaker at a temple that did this... it made me think of Hemu's eyes... but not her eyes physically, just what they were saying, what they were teaching me in another language. Like when I was taking the singing classes in California from Shweta - I always felt that just being there with her I was learning something - in the air, above what I could see...

It is the music - something is in this music that resonates with my core and it is the most tangible feeling of depth I have ever felt. I have such a strong feeling that I am approaching something. Where? How? I don't know.

I went back to the Yamuna today for my first solo trek around the city. I got lost on the way back of course, but here I am - always. A week before coming to India I had a dream about the Yamuna... certain dreams are taking on new significance, and I want to tell you all about them, but not right now.

I think tomorrow I will take off for Rishikesh... I can't believe I have only just begun... I have no idea what to expect or what to think or anything. I'm just here, which is all any of us can ever say. I feel that more and more.

Please say hi if you have made it this far. love love.

Vrindavan and 6 Jains from Bangalore

2005-02-25T06:08:00.000-08:00

I am now Virndavan... this place is a mix between a rocky dirt flume through 5oo BC, and "South of the Border" - the gaudy tourist trap on the way to FL, right on the Mason Dixon (in that fantastic for irony purposes only kind of way). I think it is difficult being with Shanta and her sister (whose name I have shamefully forgotten) because they have their Hindu agenda and sometimes I would rather go off and dance about with the Hari Krsnas or wander down the Yamuna - suddenly I was at the Yamuna today!!!! - or justtell the dude asking for money in one the holiestof holy temples that he can take his stinking receipt, it makes me sick.

But I must say, this is the most beautiful city I have ever ever been in, and for the reasons that most probably want to stay away - the poverty here doesn't bother the way it did in, like, brooklyn for example - because it is not a lonely poverty - but then again, I can't make generalizations like that, it is just my impression and comfort, but the homeless are families... the wander about, do laundry, justlike everyone else, and ina way, it is nice to be withouthere, because have money makes you feel a few terrible things - if you want to, that is.

The Jains agreed with me about the poverty though, and so I will back now and segue into the train ride to Mathura...

I'd never been in a sleeper train before - there are these compartments with cots stacked and people just sit and chat and do their things - it is much more frinedly here of course... a few hours into the ride (we're talking 20 hr ride) a beautiful girl in her 20s came over and asked where I am from, what is my good name, and where I am going because she and her friends are playing a game and want to know. She came so close to me with this gorgeous wide eyed face, western personal space invasion... i answered her questions and smiled. A few hours later I decided to go check outher compartment and who is playing this game?

Immediately upon walking over, a group of young people invited me to sit. Your name is rinif? (or something like that?) We got to talking and singing and discussing philosophy - they were mostly interested in my views on love, arranged vs. love marriage, and happiness...

They were three married jain couples, all 24 and 25 from Bangalore. They were so fun and adorable and interested and we had a loud boisterous time. I don'tknow why I can never think of american music when put on the spot, but put on the spot I was and came out with some ridiculous tunes. They all wanted to hear "Barbie Girl" and the theme from Titanic. And the girl who came over originally, Hemu, sang such amazing Hindu songs, I almost cried. And she looked me right in the eyes as she sang, as she did the whole evening with such fascination. It was totally moving.

Of course I got enough invitations to confirm that I will go to Bangalore for Holi at the end of March. I asked Hemu's hubby, Tej, to tell me all about Jainism, but all I got was a long lecture about the earth not being round and not moving, and all this, which was all good, but try to find the implications, I was at a loss there.

I have the feeling that, as the young people here dress so much like in America that my desire to "fit in" and wear less revealing things has probably made me look to them like someone in America who puts on tapered sweatpants, a fluorescent windbreaker with shoulderpads, and an "I love NY" hat... But not caring also comes much easier here, and seems to be the great big overwhelming norm.

Well, I was definitely in shock a few days ago, butI feel much better now... much much. I am lookingforward to what comes, although I feel very confused about hinduism, but I am getting more in touch with the aesthetic and the sounds and just all of it....

please write,

I love you all.

Mumbai

2005-02-23T08:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I am here. I am sitting in Shanta's living room, finally able to connect the computer, and missing everyone so badly... it's funny how I didn't believe in jetlag, and I didn't believe in culture shock either, but they both exist... funny that.

Maybe it is because I am staying in a suburb with a native indian, but so far it really is not as scary as people have made it out to be... (people including a security guard at the plane check-in who tried to convince me to go anywhere else). I had one incident where a stray hand swept into the auto-rickshaw and copped a quick feel, and one incident with children begging, but so far so good. I know this isn't Delhi, though, and not the center of Bombay, so my guard is still up, but I trying to trust.

My first moments off the plane were completely awestruck, and filled with this indescribable feeling that India is alive in a way that goes beyond anything that is happening in front of your eyes... and my first night (last night) I could only sleep two hours, and kept thinking about how I never ever could have imagined this place. Never...

But today, after a surreal shopping experience, and three hours of puja and lecture on the Srimad Bhagavatam - in Hindi - I am tired, belly-aching, and I'll admit - a bit homesick. I have not seen a single light-skinned person in two days, and I'm often so quiet that the sound of my American voice shocks me.

I had a long think today about what I am doing in this crazy place, and came to the realization that I am here to try to find out why I want to be here.

Tomorrow I am going to Mathura - Krisna's birthplace - with Shanta and her non-english speaking, but very sweet, sister... and five days from now I am on my own.

I can't quite think with the Indian Soap Operas in the background, so I will close here. Please leave comments or emails, it is sooooo nice to hear from you all.

So much love....

Amsterdam to India

2005-02-21T00:15:00.000-08:00

Om Namo Narayanaya

Thought it would be good to start out with some salutations to the preserver of the universe... if you will.

Hello dear ones. I wasn't sure I wanted to keep in touch, as I feel that "everyone has travelled... and so what." and back to thoughts of "art and/or communication being an exploitation of the experience". But then I remember that dream about the little art installation of a tiny kitchen being put up inside a building with an interestin pattern of growing hallways that I'd never noticed before, and the realization that art is a lense through which to see the patterns, beauty, uniqueness, and just-so-ness of what is already there. And not that this is art, so much, but I imagine it will allow me to frame things a bit ... so if you like, here you go.

Presently in Amsterdam click-clacking on my new (old) little ibook trying to maintain contact with my new company that has graciously allowed me two months of geographic freedom... while in the background Wendy reads anthro reading packet - recall anthro readings being extremely boring. she is one with endurance for academic garble - power to her. Amsterdam is my first and only experience of Europe - practically the world - though if you know me well, you know that I am likely to interject here that I mean in this present lifetime, of course.... One other note - I am so grateful for Wendy.

A-dam has canals, brick building galore, (and of course wooden clogs and legal pot - didn't get involved - though I somehow think that would have prepared me for India - gotten me into some revelatory mind state - oh YEAH, just BE, and Everything will be Fine!) But no. Feel lucky to have been able to witness the youth culture here - converse at length with some arty active ones - I feel it is somewhat more genuine here because it is not so prevalent as in the "States"... but I do notice that people do not look at each other here - I feel extremely unnoticed and unnoticing. Maybe this is part of the "tolerance", though it would be sad to assign that to indifference.

This is my last night here - tomorrow an epic saga will conclude (and another will begin) - I am going to India. Those of you who don't know, I have had major power issues about travelling to this region for ... let's see... 6 years now? Sad though, that I think I had to not register it in order to build up the nerve. And now I am not even excited, not scared, not anything... not even really aware at all... wish I could go back to that defiant angry scared and competely full-of-wonder me that cried on the phone with dad about studying abroad in Nepal and how he just didn't understand that I HAVE TO GO!!!! Well, writing that helped a bit. Tomorrow... I am going to India...

pictures: homepage.mac.com/omvidya