florida

Florida. “Welcome home” they say at the port terminal. Really? welcome home.

I am overwhelmed and drowning. I don’t know that I can adequately describe how confusing everything is. I was in India for six weeks- home for maybe one and a half- and then back out. I haven’t been here an extended period since June. What is home?

So many people left the ship overjoyed. “It was the experience of a lifetime. I totally recommend it.” “Best time of my life.” “The ship was amazing.”
I remember a trip with a friend in Istanbul; I say she is an amazing and beautiful person. She replies, “Really? How do you know? I can’t see good now. I can see beauty, yes, but not good or bad.”
I’ve heard a lot of people describing the world as their playground.

I can’t say I didn’t have an amazing time- amazing in the sense of- well, I was amazed. But that doesn’t always mean fun. I wouldn’t want to leave this trip like, “Whee!!!! Fuck yeah I went crazy everywhere and had a blast.” Of course I had a great time many places, but the entire time I’ve been thinking-analyzing-reflecting. I think my eyes have been open for a while- but this trip did something more. Opened my heart? My energy? Coming ‘home’ is one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Sorry to the rents. Aside from that, I don’t feel I have a home. The house is where my parents live, but I couldn’t move in there. Not now, not after everything. New Orleans is a home- unless nature decides to bury her in centuries of human neglect and inevitable change. On the flip side, I could go anywhere. I feel I could be dropped anywhere and survive. How is it I feel this way about the world, and not here?

End point: I have to process.

Traveling, looking around. So much beauty, but so much pain. I feel like I could do something- that inevitable feeling, as spiderman says, that with great power comes great responsibility. I don’t want to say that the world is my playground- as if I’m going to run around and tear shit up. The world is not here purely for my enjoyment. Of course, I will enjoy it. I will love it and roll in it and cry for it- but there needs to be a sense of care. I am compelled.

Let’s see where I am after a week of thought and meditation, shall we?

All these pictures came from Burma. Reflecting on my trip- my best pictures have come from Burma. Complete beauty. I felt-terrible at times-when I was there. I saw the pain. Looking back, I see the beauty. I wonder what I would find if I returned.

the journey

Dec. 4th/5th/why be a slave to time?

Learning. Someone shared the tale of a recovering druggie at home- this friend told him before he came on this voyage to learn, learn, learn. Not to have fun- to learn. Another girl shares her bout with clinical depression. She has learned again to love life, but realizes the value of walking through the dark. I see a lot of dark sometimes on this boat—but like I used to tell a friend, think of how much more powerful I will be at the end.

This trip has helped me to find my voice. I have realized I don’t know many things, but found strength to speak out about the things I do. I have questioned pretty much everything.

You know, this was planned out as a journal- a chronicle of my adventures to fill in all the folks back home. But I think I would bore you with a mere list- it wouldn’t do justice to my experience or your mental depth. Hope you don’t mind.

Pictures to come (in maybe a few weeks J )

Espana

LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! As chris Langley used to say: rawr!

What have I learned? What has been the purpose of all this? Fun is a transitory and somewhat shallow emotion- what exceeded that? Croatia offered much time for contemplation- a quiet, wintry land. Spain- craziness. I realize once again that there are niches all over the world that I would love.

There is both exhilaration and fear that accompanies the realization: I can go anywhere and survive. I am a tiny person in a huge world. Everything is bigger than me and yet I am a part of it all.

I have so very much to learn, as do we all. Traveling simply increases the awareness of my own empty mind. Lord do I try to fill it, but the world is far too large. And so I have worked on my heart- keep it open, keep it full. Has it worked? I hope. Hope.


So for a while, Bowie has graced my mind: chchchchanges..turn and face the strange, chchchanges, pretty soon now your gonna get older, time may change me, but I can’t change time

Notes to self (and you): listen to more rage against the machine
Learn to tag
Dance
Don’t Worry, Be Happy

I’m so glad I’m not Milagro- so glad to be me.

Note to others: stop listening to others when they are negative. If someone tells you you can’t do something- it’s only impossible in their fearful reality, and that is an illusion. Ignore them to the fullest and find your own path. You are all birds, and you are free.


To catch up:

Croatia- swimming, islands, rock, wine, cheese, climbing

Spain- major art museums of Madrid- the Prado and Reina Sofia, complete lack of sleep, gitanos, bar fights (not me not me!), playgrounds, pubs clubs and discos, calimocho, rage, dreadlocks, rastas, lights, more gitanos!!!, flamenco, big skirts and tight pants, white suits, more wine, cathedrals of epic proportions, postcards, pigeons, milagro, and uh- trains? –oh, socialism too, god bless

dude.

so im coming in from island hopping in the adriatic- ya know, no biggie,- and i look to the left of the ferry. What do i see? THE MOTHER FUCKING GREENPEACE SHIP!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IVE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS SHIP AND STALKING GREENPEACE SINCE LIKE JUNIOR HIGH, AND NOW ITS RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!
I hailed the captain and climbed aboard, and am headed back tomorrow for open ship time.

also- i went swimming for the first time ever! thanks to anyone who ever tried to teach me, but i guess all i needed was the salty adriatic sea, some wine, and some naked friends- whee!

much love

İstanbul rocks the casbah.

yeah! underground-euro-muslım-style-flaır-taste-musıc musıc musıc- brothels (boo)- magıc-m&ms-hassan- oh laura

sexıest people i,ve ever seen. hassan- ,looks lıke orlando bloom?, why aren,t ı wıth him now- because ı,m hangıng wıth a totally amazıng couple of artısts and freethınkers and soon theır frıends. They,ve taken me ın- offered to help me stay here ıf ı ever wanted to- to fınd a place and a job. Emre ıs an artıst- ozlem a beautıful spırıt of knowledge.

ı can tell thıs place has so much to come back to - the underground musıc scene- ---as we drıve by ,that ıs where the gypsıes lıve- ın the summer they dance all nıght., oh my oh my


party time

EGYPT

spiritual-pyramids-bedouin people-MUSIC-sheesha-mint-dance-veils-beauty-stillness-calm-meditative-transforming-spectacular

climbing around the dessert

chilling with a healer who has hosted the Grateful Dead- learning about the flower of life and the scent of chakras

drinking enough coffee and smoking enough sheesha that I almost can't eat for the tummy ache

learning so much about my self and my path that my life will never be the same...


more to come in turkey

Nutmeg, chocolate, and the Middle East

So- the first two really just refer to the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had- which I packed full of fresh, not-ground nutmeg and cinnamon from Kerala. Whoot.

The Middle East: We’re a few hours from our port, and tomorrow morning I’ll be headed toward Cairo. Holy shit. I feel magnetism toward this place. I’m quite unsure as to its source, but I’m really attracted to the middle east. I have all these constructs in my head- what an Egyptian marketplace will look like, how the pyramids will make me feel, and an idealized version I’m sure of Bedouins with gorgeous rugs and tents camping in the desert- and I’m excited to see my reaction to the realities of all these things.

I talked to the interport student about the possibility of camping with Bedouins—his response: “But your hands are too small. How will you drive the camel? It will be very hard-you need big hands.”

orielly, hate speech, and the middle east

We watched a documentary today in global media- how the US views Arabs, how we and others took Palestinian land, and why we support Israel.

It is hard for me to watch clips of Bill OReiley and FOX news. I don’t watch news television at home, unless it’s Democracy Now, and I don’t hang out with conservatives. To see the hate, the utter hate and evil that comes out of this man’s mouth is nothing short of repulsive to me. Then that repulsion turns to sadness, because I truly hate to think that any portion of the American public actually feels that way: that Arabs are all evil, that Islam hates freedom, and that all those “rats” deserve death.

I’m also processing the fact that I am incredibly drawn to Islamic culture and its peoples. When I think logically about this- I can’t relate to Islam at all. TOTAL submission to God? Not quite me. But I truly think I’ve come to this as a reaction to what has been submitted by my culture. To call Arabs “haters of freedom”, evil, and terrorists- well- these are all qualities I would attribute to the United States. What is terror? Is it bombing innocent civilians in the night to safeguard your economic interests? Is it attacking a people whose culture you find to be an assault on your God and your way of life? Couldn’t that last one be attributed to both sides in this ‘battle’?

Anyhow- I guess what I wanted to say is that 1) I’m shocked, deeply saddened, and disgusted with the way our mass media portrays the world, and 2) That I’m truly hoping to experience Middle Eastern culture in Egypt and Turkey-almost as a way of refuting the above. I want to find beautiful, kind people and take that hope to all the haters and say “look now! You’ve watched news but I’ve been there so let go of your damned animosity.”

I guess we’ll see what happens soon enough.

Eureka!

Ladies and gents- eudemonia is closing in (who knows when? Not I). Point is- it’s not so damn distant anymore. Social awkwardness is waning. Reiki master Amei hooked me up on that one. Slowly got pumped through the day- great convo with a professor- (hey! Surprise!! This ship is like a bubble of the American culture I flee in daily life- and I’m not the only one who realizes it. Finally. Satisfaction. Take that McGagger.) Continuing through the night- great yoga + Tibetan prayer bowls + my new outlook = such amazing vibrations my hands were warm when I finished using them (with meditation bowls of course- if you’ve never seen them check it out- ya gotta).

And I had the most amazing taste of ginger tea today. Think hot, sweet, tang, spice, warm…

Off to finish the realignment. Mwah!!!

SASafras

wow- so apparently uploading photos is REALLY SLOW and difficult on this computer- and now I'm out of time.

This was a little boy in Can Tho Vietnam, in the Mekong Delta. We played with lots of them for a while in their neighborhood. Note the black river behind him.

Return to India

Wow.

I needed to have fun. I couldn't follow Burma with more pain- so off we went. Me + two cool dudes- headed to Kerala.

I used to list off India- color, smoke, dirt--Rosemary would always say spice and I never thought why. Well wow.

Day one we flew into Cochin. Kerala is the richest state in India. No beggars, few hindus- christians, muslims, and hell- a jew town (even called Jew Town). We went around with Babu who took us to see the Chinese fishing nets amongst other things. Think of hugely elegant bamboo nets lowered in and out of the water via a pulley system.

Day two- on to Kumily. Town in the cardamom hills of South India- spice plantations- ginger, coffee, lemongrass, cinnamon, cloves...the scents filled the air everywhere. We did a short day hike in the Periyar Wildlife Refuge (tigers and elephants--neither of which we saw in the wild...). Later toured a spice plantation and rode an elephant. Beautiful people, beautiful children, beautiful land. Last night we slept in a tree house.

It was such a contrast to see that side of India. Rich, christian, beautiful. No cows in the street, no garbage in the gutters, no chai shops on the sidewalk. This country truly is everything.

But shabam- this morning we pulled into Madurai. It's hot- it's crowded- it's a city in India. Now I remember. Hello? Madam? Where are you going?

I still love it. Love hate.

Burma Pre-Port

Burma: Where the Buddha smiles on a monsoon of color.

Myanmar: Where a harsh military junta slays and tortures thousands of indigenous peoples every year; where est. 20,000 girls from hill tribe are SOLD to pimps in Thailand who will sell their bodies as “virgins” hundreds of times over- The girls are told they’re going to wash dishes.

These are the same country- the ethnically heterogeneous array of tribal peoples- ear and neck stretchers- lake peoples- monks- and the draconian government that crams it all together.

We are pulling up on this country now- the literal meaning of sea level has been made visually clear as we pass vast stretches of green, floating homes of natural fibers, and small boats whose owner’s must gaze at us in awe: “What on earth is that giant- moving so fast and soo very huge.”

Entering this river delta I find one of the most unique landscapes I could imagine. This morning the river was green- a splendid jade and the wake we turned up was brown- shallow river water. As the ship pulls in, tiny villages and water buffalo can be seen close by. In the distance: gold. For an impoverished nation, GOLD gilded pagodas dot the landscape with surprising frequency. The Schwedagon can be seen already from the ship- along with perhaps five others. We haven’t even approached the city yet.

Supposedly, these will be the most kindhearted amazing people we encounter. I have been drawn to this place since my early youth. Clothes tag: Made in Burma. Where the hell is that? Oh- and then the two page spread of Pagan. Well I’m headed there now. Tomorrow, perhaps, I’ll be on a plane. (This likely won’t make it to post until post- Burma, but I’ll write it now).

HK, Vietnam Part I

WOW WOW WOW!!!

So i thought HK rocked my world- which it totally did- but Vietnam- wow!!!

Last day HK---um---oh- park, market, turquoise ass-length wig, muslims, tai chi, rosemary, tsing tao, 7 eleven...


Okay, nam. Started in the worst mood- sprung into the best. THE PEOPLE HERE ARE AMAZING!!!! Polite, beautiful, fans of coffee, colorful, boat people, etc...

Day one- wandering, war museum, crazy night club. It is so amazing to see this place through my fresh eyes and yet know what it meant to so many people. I'm in the Mekong Delta now and I can't imagine fighting a war in a worse place. Think mud, poison, brush, everywhere. I can't really believe the nation has changed so much in so little time. Even hearing I'm from the US, they are still so amazing.

Last night I met Yom- I am the first foreigner he has ever talked to, but that night we went out with a motor cycle gang of six vietnamese + me and molly. He brought his english professors kids- a 9 and 13 year old- and the plumpest vietnamese kids I've seen at that.

I have just met so many amazing people by biking around this nation- they are interested. Hello! Who is this girl? She's big- but she's dressed like and Indian. Her shoes!?! Hello! The energy is so positive.

Also- today I saw an angel. There is little doubt in my mind she is an enlightened being. Clad in yellow, I looked up to see her in a fish market- barefoot- standing and starting straight at me. She approached some women who merely gave her the food she pointed to. A nun? She took my breath away.

much love from Can Tho....

Hong Kong

Ahoy! Have I even written about Japan? No? Well fast forward.

HONK KONG.

It could take days…ayechiwawa. So we missed docking in China because of a typhoon. I’d say 90 percent of the boat went into the mainland anyhow, but not me. No worries- free Tibet eh?

HK day one: alleyways, flowers, meeting dozens of interesting people with Forest, getting in a random lady’s junk(small boat house), HK Park and aviary, not seeing SAS people for a long time, Victoria’s Peak for sunset and night time lights, the walk down, drinking health tonic, going far too far on the bus b/c we were too tired to walk- then having to walk twice as far to get back, sleeping….best meditation of my life

HK day two: big ass Buddha- more like a theme park however, nature, dim sum, bus, looking forever for restaurants, foot massage, shoddy hostel

HK day three: hiking to top of Lantau Peak- highest on the island w/ views of all the islands around, getting sunburned, the camera breaking, finding my water bottle again, getting down to a random beach town, scoring a suit and sarong for cheap, playing in the beach at sunset, ferry back, irish pub hopping and meeting random Brits, seeing everyone again

HK day four: well that will have to wait for tomorrow.

Japan was splendid. Very modern, very fashionable, very full of ancient and remarkable temples and wildlife. Also had-literally- the very best meal of my life. (Unagi, noodle soup, pickled vegetable, and matcha/bean dessert- with green tea of course)

Jolly Shandy!!!

Oahu and malaria meds

Heads up kids. It’s A3 on ship- that’s September who knows for you.

Hawaii: solamente una dia!! Que triste.

The plan to go hang gliding falls through night one: the wind is wrong. Plans switch to run around the island with Amy, Halle, and others and try to find a hiking spot via sticking our thumbs out on the road. About twenty minutes before docking: Rebecca informs me there is room on the skydiving ran. Okay! So we head there- a van stuffed with 17 kids who feel the need to scream and throw out the rock sign, peace sign, or for some-the shocker, every few minutes as if we are already in the air. The wait time is insane. Get there around nine- fly up in the plane around one- need to wait for the shuttle and don’t get back to the ship until around 4.

The jump: So I’m suited up w/ Ashi. We’re in the plane with three other pairs- the plane door stays open sometimes so our ears adjust. Five more minutes. One more mile. They start jumping and I’m the last. I come up to the edge- but my arms are wrapped around myself so that in effect, I don’t jump at all, but rather am shoved along by my instructor. We rock back one, two, and three times we’re out. Instinct closed my ears for the first second as we fell and tumbled out. The free fall lasts about a minute and was honestly much scarier than I imagined. The ride up was spectacular- I was pumped- but when you get to that door- it’s like ‘oh shit’. On the way up I said- ‘no worries- don’t worry laura- you’re a bird’- and I know I am. Regardless, being at that doorway- the wind starts to hit your face- oh god. You’re falling so fast- I think around 120 mph- and it’s hard to breathe. After a bit though, the shoot opens and you’re floating- not falling- floating/soaring. I told Ashi to get me to a cloud. We hovered there for about a minute, with the crystal blue water beneath us and the low, lush mountains of Oahu if front of that. It wasn’t that we went into the cloud, but we hovered there while it moved toward us. Amazing. “Okay- now touch your cloud!!!” Whee!! I put my arms out and thought of all the times I would pretend to be a plane or a bird when on land/as a kid. You know- when you hold them out and go “vroom!!!” -Except I got to do it in the clouds.

That night was also pretty fun- didn’t get to the beach b/c we were trying to book tickets for our trip in China. Ended up having some drinks outside the boat with one of my professors (can’t take liquor onboard).

All in all, good times for a day.

Also – I’ve determined one highly avoidable cause of major problems in my traveling career: antimalarials. Doxycycline screwed me up, so the doc gives me a lariam. I’m waking up all night, and realized today that I’ve been feeling randomly really bummed out- which is insane!!!! And what does lariam do? Makes you depressed and gives you night terrors. Note to fellow travelers: wear bug spray, sack the drugs. Why make your body mad sick when it isn’t?

Pictures later? Maybe post-Japan.

At sea

Greetings from a big boat- or ship as they will have me call it. This is day what? It’s A2 for classes- and that’s about all I know. The ship itself is quite an unexpected experience. It is perhaps the most opulent place I will ever live; amazingly kind Philippino people make our beds, fold our stray clothes, and bring us coffee and tea at every meal. Everyone I talk to feels rather out of place being served- I know they get paid well and such- but it is so incredibly odd.

My chica Amy also brought up the awesome point that while we are on the ocean, we’re still so removed. This ship is huge- nine stories maybe- and from the top deck you are so far away. Last night the ocean was amazing. The whole experience of being out here perfectly demonstrates the limits of language; I have no words for the color of the ocean. I can’t really describe how the moonlight reflects on that vast body of water, hitting only parts that aren’t obscured by clouds and sending a shimmer through the waves. I can’t do it justice. It is ghostly- my image last night made me recall the scene in Interview with the Vampire: Claudia and Louie are sailing to Europe and around, and as the pass sea through sea, Claudia does sketches of the ocean. They are dark, there is moon, clouds, and depth- and most importantly a type of fog. There is a feeling in that scene- I’ve caught it before on the river in New Orleans- seeing how the lights from the bridge reflect down and make that area slightly different from all the others. So that is how I feel- like I’m in some sort of painting, and as if I should describe everything in older English like novels I’ve read.
To return to the far away point, however, even though the ocean is all around and we can’t see land, we’re still not in it. Imagine being in a schooner or smaller vessel- the ocean would own you. You would feel that vastness and be lost in it. We can try to reach it from up here, but it’s hard.

The people on the boat are pretty sweet. I was nervous about being lost in a maze of rich people – and rich isn’t the right word—but if you know me maybe you know what I’m talking about. And they are here, but so are others.

Hawaii is next (tomorrow)!! Whee.

politics, thoughts on india, final pics

Howdy folks. So today we'll begin with a short political rant, move on to my reflective views on the India experience, and finish off with some more dazzling pictures. Ready? Okay.

So what is up with middle of the way America? I pick up a copy of The Nation today- one of my old favorites that left me along with mail service in New Orleans- and I read about the "New College Left". It recounts the tail of extensive right wing funding, think tanks, etc. and the rise of the right on college campuses. I remember having these convos w/ a friend in New Orleans: when the old hippie can't take care of himself and is still yelling and angry, but the old conservative seems to be doing pretty well, well no shit people would rather be the conservative. Anyhow- the article went on to say how some Left "Campus Progress" national organization has started and gives funding to campus groups. My first reaction: "Sweet! I could start up a paper at Tulane when I get back, because God knows they don't give funding to poli organizations, and the few times I've picked up the Hullaballo I've ending up reading some of the most racist, slanted bullshit- not as a letter sent in- but as an article published.
However, upon further reading, I find that the organization is obviously wary of supporting anything too left, which could get it into trouble. The article also talks about some Ivy groups starting up- classy Dems that don't yell their rhetoric but voice it in suits with coctails. Politicians.

Laura's views: What the fuck mate? Why? Because yesterday's left is today's too left, and yesterday's middle man is today's awkward liberal. Okay- you don't want to be yelling on the quad, etc. Neither do I to be honest- it puts you in an awkward and open position. I just find in the past few months- and lets not lie- after certain group conversations in India- that I'm sick of hearing hollow words. I'm sick of a generation that listens to the Dead, does their parent's drugs (and more), reads about Leary, talks the talk, and then returns to the life that their wealthy parents carved for them. Hollow words my friends. It's as if 'hey, our parents didn't change anything, lets take the best they have to give us and leave the sweat and tears.' Now I realize I'm not out in the street protesting anything, etc.- but I think I do my part to not contribute. I don't run around saying "No Logo!!!" and cover myself in Nike; I don't feign to support the environment and drive and SUV five blocks to school b/c my skinny blond ass can't manage a bicycle. I try to not support a world system I don't agree with and hope that somehow little actions reach others.
The other frustration (highlighted by this wonderful Leibermann campaign) is that I'm sick of Repubocrats. Now listen, I was raised a good Dem, but when for the past four years all I hear are people come out who support the war- or don't "support" it but still want to fund it- wtf? You know- Bush didn't technically win that election, but the way everyone acts, you would think we have to duck and cover because the neocons are everywhere. They're not. They are just better organized b/c they don't keep muddling up their message by scooting it farther left.

So that turned into a long rant. But afterall, I understand when people want non-partisan politics. But shouldn't there be a point when people (liberals) say, "yes Mr. Republican, come to my meeting, hold my hand. I respect you as an intelligent person with your own history, your own culture and norms, and therefore your own views. When I say work together, however, I WILL NOT swallow and neglect my own MORALITY and opinions so that I can eat your corporate sponsored shit in return for your approval." come on america. You can have cooperation and still have different ideals- non partisan doesn't mean republican.


Okay okay, done with politics for now......India!!! (Which will likely lead to politics)

My last real message from that distant land was after an intense sickness in Varanasi/Benares. How far away. Since I've returned, people have asked if I feel like a changed person. Yes I do, but mainly because of the reflection time I've had since I got home. My first few hours back in the states were spent at Ohare International Airport waiting for the currency changer to open up. My first real culture shock: We are really fat. Not that the fat people are so huge, but that pretty much everyone is on the big side. Next reaction: gas in Chitown was 3.60ish a gallon. shit son.

I came home and I wanted to clean out, clear up, and think about everything that had happened. I didn't want to come back to the states and think "I'm so grateful to be home. I'm so grateful to be in a safer place with clean food, etc. Let me go grab a sandwich and a frappe and walk the streets at night." I was resentful even before I left to the people who said "Oh India- you'll get home and kiss the ground you walk on". So I didn't. I fasted for about a week, sat on my ass at home listening to music, doing a little yoga, being outside, and-thinking I suppose.

One of the most important things, I think/i feel, is just not to forget. The poverty in India is striking, but you get used to it when you're there. You realize there is a society India, a middle India, and a poor as shit India, and they just don't mingle. From the society view, how could you live a life of comfort and walk into a beggar village and not feel wretched? You couldn't- neither did we. But I don't just want to come back here and forget them. I try to live a life that doesn't harm other people- that doesn't support coporations or ideals that will harm others. I'm not saying I succeed, and I'm sure I fail quite often, but the motivation is there and at least I'm trying.

Spiritually, there is also the concept of being connected to those people and having compassion for them. Some could say that just thinking things -"I wish those poor people in India to be happy" -doesn't do jack, but my meditation course taught me a lot. When Buddhists meditate analytically there is the hope that ideals in our minds can be focused on our hearts- that what we logically know will become something we logically feel. Being around monks and nuns ( and Tibetans for that matter) in North India was hugely powerful; these people have such striking compassion and good will for those around them. They realize everyone is in this painful cycle, so regardless of where we are, we should be kind. We don't know the karma of that beggar we just ignored, and we don't know our own. Some day the tables could be turned, and you could be depending on someone's kindness as well.

I also worked on strengthening my equanimity while I was there (treating everyone the same). I struggle a lot with trying not to judge people so directly opposed to my beliefs. ex- People who support the war. How the hell do I respect someone who supports hate-mongering money politics. How do I relate to people who rape the earth and then spit on her? The answer (according to a nun) - "Hey- they are just people too. And who is to say I have all the answers. I have my flaws. I'm learning -they're learning, but we're all in this cycle together."

Leading to...Capstone India thoughts: A lot of my poltical and moral beliefs were strengthened- but strengthened in different ways. If my ideals are a kickboxer- I don't want them to knock out my enemy. Rather, I'd like them to be strong enough to get dropkicked and not fall down.
I felt incredibly humbled there. Seeing life- real life- so stark and all around you- that's what India is. People live on the street- sleep, shit, eat on the street. Why? Hey- they're poor, we're all human, "so what's the problem?" It's real life in your face. Varanasi was a key example of that- seeing the stark constrast between Hindus and Muslims there (and remembering how we came from a hotel lobby in Delhi filled with Christian Missionaries- I also remember thinking- why don't you give the people some of the food you hide in that pot belly under your polo shirt and keep your damn Bible). Anyhow- you just realize how small you are.

Everyone of those billion people (plus people everywhere) are living and struggling and have their own hopes, dreams, pains, and joys. Who am I to think mine are so much more important? Honestly? We are all human, and that right there deserves respect. Regardless of beliefs, we all suffer in this life and are all looking for something- for some type of joy.

So those are the lessons I'm working on and the thoughts I'm developing post-India. --trying to respect and be open to everyone, gaining humility, cultivating compassion
(This doesn't mean there wont be more political rants in the future, but hey, i'm only human.)

I'm sure you'll get more of this later- but now pictures!!! (Whee!!) I think my blog is angry at the size of this post and not taking more pics, so those will go up later. for now...

So these three are at the Taj- the second is with my Didi/varanasi buddy Kathleen- and the last is one of the citadels by the river right at sunset.

pictures!!!

Dear god did I just post a thousand pictures (or ten- but it felt like forever). At the end of each post with pictures I added notes to explain them, which was easier than trying to make captions.

More to come tomorrow. mwah!

I'm home- alive and well and full of ideas.

Also- there is sadly no internet at my house, so bloggalicious communications will be limited. My thoughts on India -in capstone matter- aren't quite ready for publication, so you will have to await them anxiously.

much love- me

I finally got a picture to post. Whee!!! This is from the top of Triune- which is the most beautiful place I've ever been.

getting sick in Varanasi

So yesterday/last night was maybe the sickest (or second sickest after food poisoning in New orleans) that I have ever been. To detail the sickness would be pretty terrible- so i will spare you. Regardless, I was lying in bed with a fever, and i was sort of numb, really incoherent, and without balance or any energy. It was sort of scary- but I feel much better now. (It was sort of like when I got sick in Mcleod- the first day was terrible but after that it was fine.) Then- in my scared, confused state, I started thinking about how distraught (sp?) my mother would be if something happened to me. Then I thought about all my friends back home, and I much I really truly love all of you. So I needed to put that into words- and I hope in our interactions i make it obvious that I really love you, but if I ever seem cranky or impatient, just know that i have flaws too, but - yeah- i love you all.

Aside from that, India is really a love/hate relationship. Here in Varanasi- the temples are great, the Ganges river sends a great breeze into the city, and fantastical pilgrims are commonplace- complete with intricate face paint, massive dreds, and colorful uniforms of orange and red. There is also the flip side- this is a place where people come to die (to gain instant enlightenment). I feel that all that energy - that sickness- really infects the place.
And then of course- there is the desparation. Kathleen was saying that after she left Africa, she felt so connected to the people there, and now when she sees a Ghanain back home, she just wants to hold their hand and talk to them. She wondered if she would feel that way about Indians. So then I wondered...I feel that I love the place and parts of the culture- but there is definately a rift between me and the people because I have never been that desparate. Part of india really saps your energy- "buy me, take my rickshaw, buy me, special for you- first customer of the day, hello? do you remember me?" No, I don't fucking remember you because I don't know you, you don't know me, and you just want to harrass me on the street. "Where are you from?How long are you in India? Where are you staying? What's your name? Are you married?" multiply this by a thousand and it's somewhere close to how many times I've had to answer these questions. I feel it's worse here- withtheyoung boys that fucking surround you. "Where do you need to go? internet- here!!!! NO THIS WAY!!! Hotel? THIS ONE!! HERE= LEFT!!!" I don't understand what they want- they can't get commission from an internet cafe, and if they just want the company of a westerner- well, usually i want to trip them- or really just get away from them. Honestly, I can read, I know where i'm going.

Then i have to stop and think- these kids were raised in a setting i can't imagine. If i was that poor, you're damn straight I would beg for money, or try to sell you postcards, or bindis, or shine your plastic shoes. I would also be reallyamazed- in a country of over a billion indians, to see what bollywood tells me is a beautiful white person; I would want to talk to them, A LOT, because I would also want to learn English so I could get a better job- and swindle tourists even better. After all, why not? They would make about 20,000x more than I do in a year.

So yeah- i suppose it is hard for me to connect to the actual people of India- lack of social tissue as Neibur would say. But- i am trying to understand their situation- which is, i suppose, a start. In this way, I feel it's good to be here; mcLeod was like a little buddhist retreat filled with kind tibetans and meditation- this is real India- with poverty and dirt and temples and holy water and Indians.

much love!!!- me

A note on new pictures: The first and last were taken in a low key neighborhood beyond the last ghat (steps) in Varanasi. The children in the last were all (as most are) thrilled to have their picture taken. The middle picture is simply a view from the river of one of the ghats- these structures were systematically built by the maharajas of Varanasi and other cities as- if I'm right here- sort of a mark of power/dynasty. One king started it so the rest had to follow suit. These are holy places were people come to perform rituals and bathe.

Also- looking back on what I wrote while in Varanasi, and then remembering it via these pictures- seems to be two different things. It could get very draining, yes, but it was also raw. It was real life in your face, and that's part-a mere facet- of the beauty of India.

la ti da

so really I just have ten minutes of internet time left...

We've been in Varanasi for about six hours; we saw our first dead body right before dinner being paraded down the street with tambourines- but it was covered in beautiful flowers and cloth.

Our train here was 6.5 hours later- meaning it left at almost 3am. Since we had some time to kill, we wandered about Paharganj- the hippie/backpacker marketplace in Delhi and then got some drinks. It was good fun all around and the train ride was surprisingly nice (expect that there were baby roaches everywhere, but eh?).

talk to ya lata! mwah.

on the road again

Whew. So I finally arrived in Majnu-ka-tilla, the Tibetan Refugee settlement in new delhi. The bus i took was first class- so you would think "good"-but they start playing these Balliwood movies at around 8:30/9 and it is really inhumane torture. Imagine three stooges humor, female degradation (as in, "i'm so stupid b/c i'm a woman. I love my husband while he cheats on me. praise god for men"), and old, coreographed music videos. Not to mention- the culture here is really into being white; as in, they have skin whitening cream (sort of like our instant tanner). They also want to be bigger. So... the main guys in these movies are always sort of pudgy, ugly, really white looking guys- like the office nerd.

But aside from balliwood- things are good and but transitional. I met a lot of really amazing people my last few days in McLeod. Some of these people are doing amazing things- starting up NGO's, working w/ the democractic party, studying aryudvedic medicine, etc. I had a great time with all these kids, but at the same time, situations like that always bring up a bit of inner turmoil- really because I think that I want to take off school and come here to study. But of course- semester at sea. I really need to be sure and go into this fall with a positive attitude, b/c right now I want to stay here. AND- the Dalai Lama is teaching August 14-19, but i really don't think I'll have time to get everything together for SAS if I'm only home for four days. :( (this is turning into a journal entry, alas).

I just need to think good thoughts.

What else? I'm leaving for Varanasi at 8:40 tonight. Whee!!!!! I'm meeting here with this really great girl Kathleen who I met a few weeks back here in delhi. It should be pretty fantastic- as well as hottttt and rainy.

You know what sucks? terrorism and ten year olds with bomb threats. There is very little cool shit (for me) in Delhi. There is, however, the red fort- big, old, cool building. However, it has gotten bomb threats for like 3 days- and i picked up the paper the other day (while I was painting that mural- which turned out really well) and the US embassy here has been getting threats and is on high alert. WTF mate? But then again- when is the US not on high alert? Regardless, I'll just be here for a few hours, so it will be fine.

hrm hrm. i think that's it for now. The mural painting was really fantastic- painting w/ enamel under two huge umbrellas while it rained all afternoon. whee!
And speaking of the mural...ta da. The left corner is cut off in this- but I thought I'd throw Raj in the pic for good measure. He's skwinting (how the hell do you spell that?) in the pic- but I wish you good have seen his eyes- like an egyptian. Anyhow- the mural was supposed to be east meets west and the play on how so many kids from the west come here to abandon tv, huge buildings, "life" and find some spiritual otherness. yes.

I'm super happy and India rocks!

Wow- so I have left out a lot.

anyhoo- in the past few weeks we have gone to Tso Pema, a very holy place for Tibetans where Guru Rinpoche was born out of a lotus blossom. I ditched the group for the day and went to monasteries instead; one was having a puja (big day of chanting, mantras, etc.) and another was being repainted, which was amazing to watch b/c I've always been interested in the art. The Gudwara (sp?) there was also amazying- it's a sikh temple. The holy places here are so calm and special- I don't really have a word to describe it. You just feel that you're in a very clean, very ancient, very holy place.

Next we were off to Mandi- as Mimi put it "real india". I had a hard morning being surrounded by suffering, ashen beggar kids- the situation is so terrible sometimes. Later that day, however, these beautiful little girls came running up to me and gave me flowers. They were all ten and spoke english, which they learn in school. I was talking with a friend (a scotsman with the most gorgeous eyes i've ever seen) but when he left I ran to the courtyard to play with them. It was sooooo fun!!!! We ran to the clocktower and to temples; they taught me how to make and offering and then we played something like marco polo.
Eventually, I realized that aside from me and these children, everyone in the courtyard was a man staring at me oddly (westerners usually don't go to mandi- let alone run around for two hours like children). Also- they called me Didi, which means big sister. It was fantastic.

Now: I have left the group once again. The last 4 days of the trip were supposed to entail shopping in Delhi and seeing the Taj mahal in Agra. I stayed here and took an intense two day meditation course. It was amazing!!!! I have also been going to lots of teachings and just got the best massage ever. The meditations were great- but after 6 or so hours a day sitting in half lotus, ones body tends to hurt (a lot). So yeah- McLeod Ganj can be really great. There are so many classes constantly being offered and so much to do . I feel like I've really just settled in; I also realize that it would have been incredibly easy to take off fall semester and remain in India alone. Oh well.



Another cool note: I get to paint!!! on a wall!!! (baby mural) This Danish friend of mine introduced me to Raj, a nepali who just opened a restaurant (Carpe Diem) a few weeks back. It's a really great place; I went there for an open mic session on sunday that rocked my world. Anyhow, he is having artists paint on the walls of the roof where he will eventually have seating and a second kitchen. He provides paint and likely food (he's one of those spirits that is always so generous i wonder if he'll make money. ex- people help him with anyting or are his friends and he gives them free tea, coffee, food, etc. ) He also has really beautiful eyes- really feminine like an egyptian.

So things are great here. The monsoon is pretty intense and sometimes I feel like I'm walking through small rivers. It's also probably the worst time of year to go to Varanasi- but oh well!

hope everyone is well. I'm glowing (mainly b/c the massage was also facial- so I'm covered in almond oil. yum!)


Note on pictures: The first is a huge area of prayer flags near some caves in Tso Pema where hermetic monks and nuns go to meditate for years. There is also a cave nearby where Guru Rinpoche (seen in second picture) meditated for many years. We got to go in and meditate with Neil for awhile- who can chant it up like a Tibetan.

The next two pictures are in Mandi. The first is this ancient temple on the river. We woke up early and went to walk before the sun was out in full force and the fog hung over the river in a perfect sheet.

The last two pics are outside Tushita Meditation center in Dharmcot- which is the village right about McLeod. I think they perfectly exemplify what I was trying to tell my mom: up there, it didn't even feel like India. It was like- the mists of avalon or something. Beautiful.

The mountains

Yesterday we got back from our hike to Triune. It's a baby (still almost 2 miles) in the Himalayas and it's probably the most beautiful place I've ever been. The climb was about four hours up. At the top are two chai shops and two lodges- plus a whole lot of pasture land with water buffalo, cattle, sheep, and donkeys, huge boulders, crows, eagles, and most importantly- clouds. The coulds are everywehre- above you- below you- then they swallow the moutain.


One family in particular are friends with Neil- they run one of the chai shops. Sunil is the main guy; his mother is weathered and strong. This beautiful indian woman with few teeth- bindis- bright but tattered clothes- hikes all over this mountain touting loads of grass on her back that are probably 100 pounds- size wise a small person. She also makes the most amazing noises to call all the animals. Then there is Tickaloo- a 15 year old who puts american teens to shame. We would order dinner- a big group meal of dahl- and he cooks for everyone on one stove for hours. They can all run over these mountains so quickly. Tickaloo also make a dijerido (sp??/) out of PVC piping and it sounds awesome.

So yes- the mountain was a spectacular break from city life and people. It makes me want to trek through the Himalayas (more).

thats all for noww :)


Note on pictures: The first is a little shrine to Shiva. They are everywhere on the mountain paths. I find it interesting, also, the split iconography of cultures. ex- The trident is a symbol of Shiva, and many of his followers use red and orange. As a result, these little shrines may simply be stone structures with red paint altars and tridents-- sound a little different to a westerner? yeah, but they were beautiful. This last one is just mountain goats. They were all over, and Sunil's mom can heard them quickly using some of the strangest noises I've ever heard.

not so bad

So I believe my last post was likely a bit disheartening, but india isn't so bad. I went back and got drum lessons from swindly drum boy, and I actually love it and I'm really glad I'm finally learning to play.

and yeah- to anyone actually reading this we are really far away from Mumbai/Bombay and the train bombings. aka: i'm fine.

Today I'm leaving for a hike up to Triune- it's about five hours ending in being really high up and really cold. Should be spectacular.

I think the temple here is so far my favorite part. The streets are like malls but worse, and since i don't really like even going to malls, it gets a bit tiring. But the temple is so quiet and peaceful and in the morning the monks all pray for hours if you wake up early enough to hear them. The Tibetan people are also very beautiful. Maybe it's lots of good karma- they have high cheek bones and golden skin and the old women are always so kind and happy.

Ten ruppee (20 cent) momo's (dumplings) are also high on my list. yum. next post I will try to put up pictures.

sickness and swindlers

so i suppose living in the clouds has its down points- like everyone having a cold because you are always damp. There are also ameobas in the water. eek. Also, I spent far too much on a slighty cool bongo drum that I bought from some greasy well dressed kid from Varanasi. damnit. I have always wanted to learn how to play drums, so now I will.

got to go

Dreams

Hello beautiful friends!

I am unsure as to how to post pictures at this moment, so you will be left with only my words. I am in McCloud Gounj (sp?) now and it is the most beautiful place I have ever been. We are two miles up and in the clouds-literally.





We stayed in Delhi for three nights in what was (according to some) sort of a slum- but I thought it was great. It was a packed tibetan regugee colony. There aren't really roads, just alley ways. You think its raining- but really its the air conditioners dripping.







Delhi is a city of birds. The crows were everywhere- all over the hotel--which was covered in prayer flags. Yes, the city was dirty and polluted, but it was great. I imagine New Orleans being much the same in a few hundred years--except minus the intense religious influence.









cool points thus far:

-sihk temple- no shoes- flower chains- music/prayer
-ba'hai temple-shaped like a lotus- pools of clean water and full of birds (below)
-Tashi-one of our guides and LHA workers- is great and very friendly
-this entire town (completely gorgeous)
-the dalai lama's birthday in delhi- there was a big party with many different sets of women and children dancing- one little girl loved me and kept sitting on my lap and giving me her hair barrets- tashi asked her if i was her mom, she said 'no , my sister' :D There were flower chains everywhere and afterward I ate with the tibetans and indians celebrating
-Lahmo is the woman i am working with on her english- I just met ehr today but she's great- and a yogi :)

Dharamsala is filled with classes- learn massage, get massage, learn yoga, learn reiki, get acupuncture-or acupressure, play the sitar, etc, etc... The sun rises at 5:30 or earlier- and I must say it's far better to be up for that and enjoy this place during the day.

what else? so much. I suppose the beggars are difficult to deal with- only because there are so many- but what it costs to give to them translates to almost nothing for me
--I suppose it is just a lesson in my own humanity.

hope everyone is well --- much love -- me


note on pictures: first is really basic of McLeod from our hotel roof. The sunset picture is of the Yamuna River; it runs through Delhi and Agra as well (where the Taj is). That photo was taken from our hotel balcony. The other was just a picture of a rooftop in Majnu-ka-tilla. I loved the cramped, dingy buildings all covered in prayer flags. The last is the Ba'hai temple.

Lets all hold hands and hope this blog thing works, eh???