I made it! ... a L I V E ~ *

Sometimes in the moment I am not aware of the teachings.
What is this experience handing me to walk away with?
What will I bring away with me?

I was wondering these questions a lot while I was in the south of India.
Questioning the light in each moment is not always as intense when in those good moments. But in the less enjoyable ones I wonder to myself “ok, what is it? What about this is necessary for my path? Hmm…?”
Sometimes only a day later, and other times years, I reach a point, the light comes on…and I smile and sometimes laugh because I see how fucking fun life is with how things come around and how things needed to happen to get me here. And finally those low points shed light on the “why?” and “what am I doing here?” questions I once had.

Less than a week ago I reached a point where I decided I was finished with the south for this trip. I was very ready to get back to one of my 5 true comfort zones (2nd homes) that are here in India. I had the plans set after the backwaters to spend a short 18 hours in Kochi, just enough time for basic sightseeing, covering all the bases, eating and resting…and then off I go.
And then funny life played one of those tricks on me with a snafu on my departure date: All of Kerala had a scheduled strike of all vehicular traffic. My rescheduled ticket to bypass this bump would keep me in Kochi for 3 more days before fleeing north.
So this dance with this prankster life took a twirl and instead of sitting this one out and pouting I looked it in the face and said “ok, show me”.
Flowing

I ended up really enjoying my entire time in Kochi!
And had amazing walks in a sophisticated urban Keralan city of Ernakulum and then a short ferry ride across the harbor to visit the touristy area of Fort Cochin. It was a perfect setup for me because I was able to have both: India AND a tourist area. Yay. I thought it was funny how many people staying in the touristy Fort Cochin seemed shocked that I chose to stay in Ernakulum and that I actually enjoyed staying there.
Different strokes

So thank you, life, for putting me in my place and giving this gift of a balancing time in Kochi.

But then the day came and I, ahhhhhhhh, arrived back to Arambol.
Immediately my energy shifted and I was such a bright light again…so shining…and so freeking great to see all the friends I have established from many seasons here. It was like coming home.

And now that I feel the way I feel now, compared to a more intense, self conscious, shy and ambivalent me who was here upon arrival just days before new year’s eve…I am here now with new light bestowed by the trails and bumps in the past weeks…moving through Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala…all in a matter of 6+ weeks. WHEW! Jeez I covered a lot of ground!...for me, that is. Everyone travels differently in India. Everyone has different objectives, paces, interests and paths. I have decided that I am now closing the chapter on the moving quickly and hopping around. It is exhausting, plus right here in Arambol is my family. Our living room is Arkan Bar and the tables sit 20 so we all sit together for meals, beers, conversations and smokes.

I really needed the past 6 weeks. Actually I should say 4 weeks, because Gokarna was the same feeling as here for me.
So 4 weeks of…making me strong, giving me muscle, being alone, dancing with life…

I got the most amazing room. Oh wow. Actually my timing to return to Arambol is so perfect. All the holiday riff-raff is over, the tourists are gone mostly and now it’s down to the core…the real travelers…the hippies…and as the conservative London chap described to me while in an Ernakulum dhaba: the people who look like circus performers. Yep. My people.
Anyway, since so many people are beginning to head north on the backpacker route following the sun of the shifting seasons…my amazing room became free. It is a house standing alone, only two rooms, one for me and one for Klause, the older man who is beginning a 3 week intensive advanced yoga course at the place where I quit. Ha ha…funny to think about that now. we each have our own “apartment” but we share this killer front porch.
So here now I sit on my front porch with my laptop…semi-hidden from the occasional passerby through the field of the tiny white chapel…looking out to the left however is the beach and the Hindu temple.
My first day back here I was reunited with Nijiko AGAIN. Such a lovely angel gracing my travels…love her sweetness so much. And now there is a third, lovely Andrea from Barcelona. The three of us, all 5’ 10”+, in different colorings and cultures take to the streets and I feel like we’ve got this Charlie’s Angels goddess power. It’s fucking cool. Anyway, it’s just so fun to have amazing goddess energy to kick it with here in Arambol.

Kochi http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603951293691/
Arambol (in progress) http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603964859908/

the changing face of a tourist trap

Things turned around for me in the past week thankfully as far as having people to hang out with.

I spent my final night in Kanyakumari with a super fun group of all solo travelers. That is the best! I love meeting groups of people who traveled alone from home and who hang in groups that have evolved along the way.

On Valentine’s Day I arrived to Varkala which is one of the nicer beaches in Kerala. The natural beauty of the red cliffs looming over the sand and surf were gorgeous. The tourism that was densely packed atop these cliffs really put me off. I have no problem with destinations that have a large quantity of foreigners who are more there to party than to get that traveling interaction with other culture. I am tolerant of this sort of scene because it fulfills a need for me when I need to take a break from the travels. But the particular Varkala tourist niche is not MY scene. The restaurants play music like Jack Johnson, the layout does not have a thoughtful urban planning with buildings stacked up against each other…and then there are the tourists. These just aren’t my kind of people. These are folks who prefer to be safely distanced from interacting with the culture of the country they are visiting. If you take a look at the photos from Varkala you cannot really see any signs of what country they take place in.

The two best parts of Varkala are the natural beauty of thick coconut tree forests and the red cliffs. And the other was my guesthouse. Somehow I lucked out and found a budget gem back behind the throngs of up-market rooms butting up to the cliffs. Nice travelers stayed there…people unlike the generic tourist-folk strolling along the cliff who I cannot imagine would ever be found sitting on a local bus or at a street side chai shop munching on a crunchy samosa from a nearby cart.

Anyway, I just wasn’t feeling this place so I felt strongly about leaving after only one night.

And I woke up to the sound of the guesthouse mama showing a room to a new arriving backpacker. I poked my head out my door and said that I would be leaving today so my room can also be available to take. But instantly I caught a glance of the man with the backpack and an overnight train ride scruffy appearance and mere seconds into my announcement I realized…I wasn’t leaving anywhere. This smiling hottie’s eyes met mine and I saw this was worth sticking around for…

Anyway, Georg, my new next door neighbor and I were inseparable from then onward. And suddenly Varkala was much more enjoyable and all those things that bothered me before about this tourist trap seemed to fade into oblivion. Georg and I had a rapport that was a natural flow of fun, including our mutual appreciation of this corny tourism scene here and making fun of it while reveling in its offerings.

We left Varkala together to head north for a canoe trip through Kerala’s backwaters. At the end of the day, despite the new location, our chemistry proved to last and we had a blast together.

And no matter how awesome or hot and heavy it had been and had increased to, it suddenly came to a screeching halt

After realizing he felt conflicted Georg decided to inform me that this cannot go forward he has a girlfriend at home.

Hmmm… uh-huh. I see.

How did I feel at the moment of getting this information, you may ask?

Well, have you ever been walking down the street, or in the park or the shopping mall and from far away some person “recognizes” you and shouts out and waves? And even though you don’t recognize this person you match their enthusiasm and give a wave in reply. Then suddenly this person gets a better look and realizes that he/she actually doesn’t know you at all and had mistaken you for someone he/she really does know and like. And since you are not that person, the waving hand drops, the smile disappears and they walk the other way. And you are left there with a goofy grin and feeling like a horses ass.

Well,

That’s kind of how I feel.

Maybe I’m making a bigger deal out of this than I should.

I guess I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it if the connection and chemistry wasn’t true.

But it was there.

I guess I don’t expect this kind of thing to happen to me because I give the benefit of the doubt that people will have the integrity to fix a problem in their current relationship…or to leave the relationship altogether before reaching out for the temptation that exists as an indicator of something missing in the current relationship.

Anyway, I guess this little blip on my road is temporarily a tough one for me to move on from because this amazing friendship I had with Georg was coming right after a period of feeling pretty lonely. And then to have it end up like this is…well, it’s a drag.

And luckily a drag ain’t so bad…

And there’s always tomorrow.

Kanyakumari http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603902240718/

Varkala http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603934536761/

Backwaters http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603934710919/

which way to have it all?

Every time I come to India I seem to have a trend of spending February blazing trails by myself and away from the rest of the tourists and backpackers. It's a time that usually follows a month of the beach scene of Goa/Gokarna which lack of the authentic cultural immersion given by the villages and destinations I have visited this past month.

Sure there are other foreigners in the places that I've been but sparsely so. Plus the layout of the places I got to don't have backpacker chill zones where i can acquaint new friends.
Ultimately i reach a point where i get lonely.
I'm having fun, no doubt...but i am missing out on conversation, company and camaraderie. I do meet lots of friendly local people but our lack of common language keeps us at a level of interaction that makes me yen for more.
Lately I've been reaching out with online interaction to feed my needs...which has been somewhat helpful.
But now the itinerary swimming in my head is starting to take new shape because I need to work in some spots so I am assured to meet some like minded travelers.

but then i have to wonder where that line is...
the one, that line, that i am always at conflict with
when i need to bend a little from MY path so i can be with others.
i often question myself with that big fat MY...ME...I...
and then when alone and lonely i can now look right at that big fat MY...ME...I...to know why:
perhaps i should be more about the we and the us
so i can not feel so alone.

BUT
you know there always is that fat but sticking in there...
i also feel like if i am totally pursuing what *I* want to do so then i attract to me the people who also share this path
still, i am often alone

so which one is it?
or if neither,
then WHAT ?

plus i just don't know if i can handle the we the us the together
because sometimes i have it
and i leave it

duh

anyway, I'm working on it


today i arrived to a new spot that is a sweet mix of half foreigner and half domestic tourism. I ate dinner at a restaurant that was 100% foreigners for a delicious meal that cost double the amount it cost for my 10 hour local bus ride that delivered me here this evening.

As for my dinner experience, it was "ok".
Then after dinner i wandered out and enjoyed finally seeing Hindi signs for the first time in a month and practisced reading...and ultimately engaged in fun conversation with some Rajasthani restauranteurs in Hindi.


I am so torn.
Authentic cultural travel vs. the backpacker "scene"
Can't i have both?

i know i can
but i haven't had a taste of both chutnies on the same chapati in a long time


Here are the amazing sights from Rameswaram:
http://flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603885524585/

loving Madurai

i'm in a room so sketchy that i feel like a contestant on "Fear Factor"
hooray for a bargain

I've also come full face with the resilience of 6" long Indian cockroaches
smacked the bloody hell out of the one by my sink
twice
both times it got up and walked 10 minutes after the throttling
seriously...there was juicy guts and mangled legs
and the fucker still got up and walking into the gaping hole in the wall

anyway
Madurai seriously kicks ass
a new addition in my favorites list of india

was at a loss of what to do after dinner tonight
while drinking a chai on a busy street a few blocks outside of the tourist hotel region i saw a white cow walking down a busy city street more briskly than the usual gait of cows. so i decided to follow it.
i ended up on a street corner sitting on a raised cement block where i was partially hidden by a pole.
it was freakin great to be a fly on the wall to see a night in the life of Madurai's old town district.

my favorite image from this evening was the group of ~7 men transfixed on the tv screens in the showroom window of an electronics store that were showing close up animal video of baby bears licking each other

here are the images from today that i caught with my camera

seriously i could just take photos forever in madurai
eventually i just had to set down the camera and enjoy
and have faith my memory will capture the remaining gems

rah rah! i've got spirit yes i do!

Tiruvannamalai’s ashram district is a bubble keeping devotees safe from most of the rigors of India. Once in the flow there I found it was much like being in an adult summer camp of spirituality. I woke up every morning to watch the peacocks dance outside my balcony. Then by 9:30am I was seated in a small hall jam packed with cross legged meditators for Shanti Ma’s blessing at Shiva Shakti. Afterwards was breakfast which usually correlated with conversations with other travelers over fried eggs, toast and milk coffee. The afternoons were like free time for walks around Mt. Arunachal, visits to the temples in town or siestas in one’s room. Interspersed through the day were chai breaks which also correlated with more deep conversations with travelers. If needing more blessings you could opt for an additional afternoon Shiva Shakti at 5pm. Afterward is the 6:30pm singing mantra chanting in the big hall of the main ashram. Topping it off with dinner at the buffet restaurant.

I really looked forward to the shiva shakti and evening singing. They were both so peaceful and grounding for me. Sometimes I’d really meditate and get clarity and peace. Other times I was just chillin amongst the pack as a spectator, watching people’s elated expressions, for example when bowing as Shanti Ma entered the shiva shakti hall.
This guru woman is a trip. She is short and dressed in a fabric that almost matches her skin color and walks at a very slow shuffle. Her hand movements are almost imperceptible and her glassy eyes at times reach mine and give me that shakti jolt while all the while her smile stays in place; not like a happy grin…more like a contented peaceful half-smile. She paused briefly in her shuffle through the room to bring that slow motion blessing to each of the 70+ people in the hall. It was very calming and I saw her as this conduit of spirit sharing its love to the group. I was really into it in the sense that I felt so relaxed and at peace at the end of the hour.

Inevitably my scrutinizing side reared its head on occasion and I wondered what Shanti Ma is like when not in this blessing trance state during her twice daily Shiva Shakti. Does she also shuffle around her apartment with that trance-like gaze during her off time? Or does she ever crank the bollywood tunes and dance around in front of her mirror? Thoughts like this always brought a grin to my face, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because it made me appear almost in the elated worshipping stance like many of my cross legged neighbors in the hall.

When I first arrived to Tiru I was trying to figure it all out and work all these teachings into my life. I quickly realized that there is no one belief system or following here, but a collection of several. So there was no single teaching I could focus on. I didn’t know the rules or what I am supposed to do or where I was supposed to go. So, in the end, I just created my own. As usual. And once I realized this I don’t know why I initially thought I was going to get some ONE answer here because I already understand that I am the ultimate source of guidance…me and my intuitive connected dance with spirit.

It seems like anything goes here. If you would like to be a guru…YOU CAN! Just come to Tiru and print up fliers and post them in all the restaurants in the ashram bubble and host gatherings. Join the Jamaicans, French, Germans, Israelis, etc and host a “Satsang with Meenu”, “Enlightenment NOW! with Jackie and Frederique” or “Chakra Balancing Dance with Ranjii” etc. And if you have some pertinence in your message and teachings there is a good chance you will have a following.
Wow I am sure that I am coming off sooooo skeptical. Let me clarify. I believe most of these gatherings and teachings have huge offerings and pertinence, but I am also realizing that you do not have to be a 68 year old man from a holy town in Madhya Pradesh wearing a modest white longi and a turban to be a guru.


The more I check out spiritual centers in the world the more I realize that I am not a religious person.

Don’t get me wrong though. I am accepting the dance and swirling in a constant relationship with a more high spirituality than I can fully grasp. But that doesn’t mean I am religious. When I am in any religion’s church, temple, cathedral, hall, under a sacred tree or whatever the religious gathering spot is I have the same feeling at them all: I absorb the power and peace of the high vibration of spirit. At the same time however, nothing is compelling me to stand up, chant the mantra, sip the fluid, eat the offering, sing the song, bow my head to the floor and press my hands together in time with an amen “do-si-do”. These expected rituals that formulate the proof of devotion never resonate with me. I know my relationship with spirit and you and any religion cannot tell me how to do it. Nor do I need to prove it to anyone.

Even still, during a meditation session, I wonder if people take quick peeps around the room to see me sitting there, fidgeting often and with eyes open, watching the process. And perhaps they may also notice that I don’t stand up when 98% of the people are standing up. Obviously I don’t care too much what they think or else I could easily avoid the perceived scrutiny by going through the motions.

But in life, I also don’t applaud to performances that don’t move me, nor do I know the specific names of trees and flowers that I find beautiful nor do I always remember names of people with whom I have had enormous connections. I do however know and appreciate how I feel in response to them.
And I do not have a religion per se. Well, I do, but it is *my* religion. And it is one that is in constant flux and evolution aligned with myself as I am exposed to the amazing teachings and inspirations that touch me. I am a constant seeker of religion since they host inspiration for me while at the same time denying it in its entirety as my own spiritual path.
* * *

I left Tiru yesterday. I was feeling really ready for a new atmosphere even as I had flourished in the offerings of the bubble. One 3 ½ hour local bus ride through gorgeous Tamil Nadu scenery delivered me to the coastal town of Pondicherry. I was a bit concerned about getting affordable accommodation in this upscale destination for wealthy European travelers and was stoked to find an amazing room within my budget. Things were flowing perfectly! And as I filled out the register at Surya Swastika Guest House I reached in my bag’s special little zippered passport pocket so I could fill in that inevitable visa # blank on the registry form…and found the pocket empty.
Oh
My
God
It’s hard to describe the feeling of being in another country without that umbilical cord of one’s passport. I felt a panic wash over me as I scanned my memory files in my pea-brain to remember where it could be, bypassing any suspicion of theft. I wanted to ask my mommy for help but quickly remembered that I am an adult now and that I am here in India alone. And there is no one to reach out for help except within myself. And somehow I got the strength to remain calm and suck it up and gitterDUN!
Unable to find the telephone number of the business where I had exchanged a traveler’s check the previous day I went on total faith in my gut feeling that my passport WOULD be there. So I immediately hired a taxi for a roundtrip ride back to Tiru. Jeez I never do this…I always travel by local bus and will occasionally splurge on tourist overnight AC busses. But one hour after the scary discovery of my passport missing I deemed this situation worth a splurge and was riding in one of those old timey looking white Bentley-type private cars through the fertile rice fields and boulder strewn horizon back to Tiru. In conflict with the first half of this missive I found myself praying to Jesus that my passport was still there.

And it was.
So yesterday was interesting. I spent all day in transit back and forth between Tiruvannamalai and Pondicherry and other than some worry about the situation of my passport (which faded as I relaxed into the taxi ride and gorgeous scenery) I was sort of ok with how my day became devoted to transport & recovery. Which is weird because if this happened at home (or if on a two week vacation) the one day “wasted” would have pissed me off totally. Yet I was so calm and at peace in the entire day devoted to mending the results of my oversight.

Today I spent the day wandering throughout Pondicherry, which is a French influenced east coastal town. It is quaint to be sure and I highly recommend it. But it’s not the kind of place I feel like spending a lot of time in. So after one full day here I leave tomorrow. Adieu & bon voyage!

Tiruvannamalai http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603843573119/
Pondicherry http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603867839449/

discerning the blocks from the fear

As usual, one month into the trip I feel I have reached a state where I am less affected by the attachments to the unnecessaries of my life in the USA. The things that I am aware of while at home as being the filter of fog to prevent me to seeing more clearly the signs of direction.

It’s been one week of seemingly inconsequential destinations

that as I arrived to each I realized these places were merely points of the progression to my present.

As friends from Gokarna departed to interesting destinations I embarked toward a place that wasn’t so appealing but would be great for business connections. So instead of the easy overnight tourist bus that is filled with beds for comfortable slumber to awake to the next fun place I boarded the first of many local busses. I sit in the front seat so I can get the perfect view of the road ahead. It’s like a video game. The rules of this road are that the bus has the right of way. But because there are no rules in India this brings forth the barely missed collisions at top speed of targets varying between other vehicles, trucks doubled in height by cargo loads of sugarcane, crushed boxes, and other random items, bicyclists, pedestrians, cows and the occasional dog who decided to nap smack dab in the middle of the road. And as close to crash as we get, we never have an accident. I’ve reached a point where I have detached fear and faith in the driver to deliver us. However it is still an intensity that I can stomach for no more than 7 hours at a time. Thus instead of making brisk journey I am instead hop scotching through Karnataka and into Tamil Nadu. And actually I was stopping and checking out each place along the way because you just never know…I could find a gem somewhere. But that didn’t happen. And as I wandered around on sightseeing jaunts and in cities where I saw no other foreigners at all I wondered what the teacher was in this experience. But I remained in the faith that despite the meaningless appearing blips the trip would amount to something.

But what?

Last night I arrived to Tiruvannamalai to my 5^th big Indian city packed to max with people, cars, pollution, bustle and grime and I asked when I would find a place to feel “it”. It was after dark so I couldn’t board another bus to keep going to that “guaranteed” good spot that was sure to be next in line in my flowing itinerary. Plus I had heard so many good things about T.V.Malai and I didn’t want to give up on this place yet. I had no idea where to go and there was so little written in my guidebook…not even a map. All I had heard was the infrequent nice traveler tell me how much they love T.V.Malai.

Btw, no one speaks Hindi down south and so my Hindi lessons that just wrapped up before flying to India last month wouldn’t help me at all here. It’s not only different languages in the south but they don’t even use the Hindi lettering so my new ability to read and write in Hindi does me no good round these parts. So communicating to my rickshaw driver where to take me when I was stinking from a long day journey of 5 hours on the train and then a 3 hour local bus and being fatigued from having to be “on” nonstop since I left Gokarna made it more difficult to relay where to take me.

A challenge in a language he barely knows and to a destination I didn’t even know was, uh, challenging.

“on”.

What I mean is that I have to be alert to avoid the scams, the men walking too close and “accidently” brush their hand against my crotch in passing, the not knowing where to go or having a sense of direction, while all the while having to memorize the signs and buildings around me so at the end of the day I can find my way back to my guesthouse. I guess that doesn’t sound too much fun, but really it’s not a fun or non-fun type of point that I am making. It’s just having to be “on”. And after several days of this it is tiring.

I reached a point where I was really looking forward to lowering my shield and reaching a comfort zone.

Determined that T.V.Malai is such a zone, my faith guided me to suggest to the driver: “take me to where the foreigners stay”. Because in this bustling area of the town I was again the only foreigner I saw. He took me to a hotel that looked too expensive for my budget and they were full anyway. Actually this week is a first because I have come across so many full lodges that I have never experienced this before. My guess is that the Indian economy has gotten so good in the past few years that Indian families are traveling more than I have ever noticed. So anyway with embarrassingly freaking huge backpack I wandered through dark streets looking for a hotel anywhere and I wasn’t seeing one. I started to cry but halted that pretty fast. Finally I found one and yippee they had rooms available…even for cheap! But now I know why…it was such a skuzzy room. Oy. And on top of that the hotel “boy” who brought me a bucket of hot water so I could finally bathe was lingering in my doorway leering and checking me out in such a gross way I felt violated. And I had to almost move him physically out of my doorway to close the door… now wondering how this could be my comfort zone. I tried to accept it and tell myself to loosen up and where’s my sense of adventure?

When I woke up I decided I should go to the “ashram” to see what’s there.

Ashrams are places throughout India for spiritual growth practices that vary from intensive life changing vessels to a front for a cheap accommodation. I really wasn’t sure what to expect at this one.

I’m so glad I didn’t give up to soon and run from this town. This ashram is the real deal and I have barely even scratched the surface. It’s still a bit of mystery but much more clear than this morning when I arrived.

A great technique in India if you’re not sure what to do is to sit at a chai shop and unwind over a delicious chai…and watch. Finishing my chai 15 minutes and 5 rupees later I had chosen a direction and took the path to a café where inside were several other backpackers like myself sipping tea and having breakfast.

As usual I sat by myself, isolating myself. dammit. Thank god for friendly and outgoing people otherwise I’d never get anywhere socially. The woman across the massive table joked about a “you had to be there” and opened it up for me. And I was left there hanging. Even after our shared moment I sat there struggling to point of wanting to cry. But instead I picked up my coffee and bag and walked over to sit right next to her and said something like “hi, I just arrived here and I am so confused and shy and do you mind if I ask you some questions about this place?”

Awww…and she was so friendly and open. It was freaking awesome conversation…so nice. She and her boyfriend actually helped me find a room in their guesthouse which is amazing.

Why do I have to make it so difficult? That was freaking easy! Just go up and talk to people.

Why can’t I just expect the best instead of my spirit wincing as I try to fly?

As for the ashram, I can already tell that this is one of the mac daddies of India. It is amazing and I am really liking the energy shining from the people I have met here. We bypass the standard initial conversations to fast forward to the deep conversation where I am lifted up and beyond to philosophical and spiritual expansion. Yes, this is a new tribe for me. I am not implying that I am going to follow the teachings of the Sri Ramana Maharshi because I don’t even know what they are. But I can say that I am enjoying the wandering and deep conversations here.

My first exposure to the Maharshi’s spiritual gatherings was sitting in tonight on some hour long mantra chanting satsang. (There’s a name for it but I don’t know what it is yet.) And I sat there listening to the deep male voices taking turns with the light high notes of the women I reflected on my week leading me up to where I now sat cross legged in the large hall filled with seated people from all over the world singing in words I didn’t recognize while some altar in the front of the room was encircled by followers.

I realized that the necessary next step for my progression is the clear discernment of knowing the signs of where I am not supposed to go…

From the deterring face of fear which holds me back from where I need to go.

Because you know…if I use both to keep me away

Then I will never get myself anywhere

http://www.ramana-maharshi.org

http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603814972498/

Days of our Lives: Kudle Beach

At breakfast this morning, Uval asked me what I’m going to miss most about Kudle Beach and I told him the people. The friends I’ve made, the conversations and…the drama.

Of course the beach is gorgeous, there are many nooks to wander around during the day and Gokarna town is a sweet Karnataka village. But the biggest highlight for me here were the friendships and fun times connecting with other like-minded travelers.

I had gotten sucked into the vortex.

In the first few days after arriving to Sea View Resort I spent my chill time at my guesthouse cafe sitting upright and alone at a table by myself surrounded by groups of people who lounged comfortably with others in conversation and often laughter. I wasn’t interacting with anyone and barely able to make eye contact. Every day at sunset was the highlight of my day where people would gather for volleyball, poi spinning and music making. I developed a corny crush on one of the volleyball players who I never seized opportunities to approach him. And once I finally talked to him I realized that it is senseless to create my fantasy pedestals for people. How could I know this man is so wonderful without even exchanging conversation and feeling our interaction? It’s much like when I had a very sweet and romantic moment with a Spaniard who couldn’t speak any English. Communication is essential for knowing if there is a deep connection possible. And on that same token, I let the groups of chill backpackers sitting around me at Sea View intimidate me…because why? Because they were comfortable and don’t have this shy thing that plagues me most of the time.

Eventually I did talk to the amazing volleyball player guy and well, he is nice and deep and attractive, but the truth is that we don’t have that spark that is essential to take a friendship to a more intimate level. On the other hand, my good friend Nijiko clearly shared that “zing” with him. And that was a little weird to witness. I mean, I sat with the two of them and watched their undeniable chemistry. I was really happy for them because it was clear there was something between them happening. And also happy for Nijiko because she is one of the big-time sweethearts I have come across in life and she deserves all the light that she brings to herself through her own beaming personality. But anyway it was also a little weird because I had told her that I had a crush on Mark and she probably also felt a little awkward about how things ultimately developed.

So early in my 2 weeks here I had concluded that I have to stop this fantasy pedestal status I give people; to see everyone as equal and to appreciate strengths instead of putting them above me (as if I don’t also have offerings in strength !?).

I decided to step outside of the Sea View to change my scenery if even for just one meal.

And that one meal found me alone and ultimately approached by an older Indian man. By the end of our lunch I discovered that he is a trained psychologist and had just completed teaching a course that involves recalibrating brainwaves to release emotional patterns of history…to clear paths for new beginnings. I was like…”oh duuuuude…I really need that right now”. So even though he was to leave Gokarna in 2 hours he happily gave me the treatment that involved about 15 minutes seated under a shady tree at the edge of the beach. He clutched my head in his hands and I’m not sure what else he did because my eyes were closed. Now I’m no sucker, I use caution wisely and rarely am duped. And this was very cool.

When he was finished I felt really clear and my body was tingling.

And thereafter, everything changed for me…

No more crushes, no more shyness and no more pedestals.

I don’t mean I was suddenly walking up to any interesting looking person. But my demeanor softened, I was approachable and I was also initiating. Suddenly I didn’t care about having crushes and my energy shifted more to the amazing conversations I was having with new found friends from Germany, Greece, Israel, France, Spain and many more. With each day the friendships deepened.

The environment of travel is a condensed form of relationship development where you are spending all day long for days on end with new friends and old. Thus the speed of deepening relationships quicken much more than those at home where if you have your first nice date or meeting with someone the likelihood is pretty low that your next meeting/date happening will be the same day…and several times in this same day.

At home it’s more like you meet someone and then a week later you see them at another event or gathering…at best. So the speed of relationship development at home is so much slower.

So what does that mean for my two weeks here? Well, I feel that my work to be done here was not so much about meeting my dream man but more about softening my reserve and calming my insecurities. To work on friendships and make connections.

Ironically however, all around me was this big soap opera: friends becoming lovers and the inevitable dramas that can come when in the scenario of temptation and stimulation. I suppose I could feel like I missed out a bit by not having my own little romance here, but I prefer to revel in my current status of observer…and at times a sounding board for the venting tryst participants.

So in a nutshell it was like this:

-My next door neighbor seemed pretty borderline crazy but pleasant enough, so I let that one slide. She was detached from personal relationships, probably from a past trauma, and instead shifted all her focus toward a litter of 4 puppies that were born outside our guesthouse on the beach.

-One woman moved in with her new love and later they had friction and then just as they were going to part ways the guy came back around.

-I saw the French guy I had a crush on last season had arrived to Kudle, but unfortunately he has a girlfriend with him this year. Zut allor! While giving me a macramé beaded hair extension on the beach he told me he was in the middle of a big fight with his girlfriend. And moments later she came over and gave me that jealous girlfriend “look”.

-As depicted above, my friend Nijiko from Japan who I was tight with last season in Bhagsu hooked up with the guy I had a crush on but who I later realized was better suited for Nijiko.

-A large group of us took a one hour boat ride north to an amazing (mostly)-undiscovered beach for a full moon party. The party was such a joke and I think I can confidently say now that psytrance sucks unbelievably (although Gulabi and Lee told me not to make a decision based on this super wack party). Aside from the party however!! The trip to the beach was awesome because our group from Sea View was so great…love these people!! And the beach was amazing…almost as gorgeous as the Andaman Islands.

-My neighbor, upon return to our guesthouse after the full moon party, ended up completely flipping out for over 24 hours…thankfully with a break here and there. Two of the puppies had disappeared and this did not bode well for her in the mix of medications she both took or needed to take and hadn’t…anyway, screaming and violent attack of the internet café owner and full drama psycho freak out ensued. Finally someone located some valium and things chilled out a bit.

DRAMA!!!!!

Anyway, there are several more little soap opera whoppers, but that above list is the greatest hits of my two weeks.

Yeah so what I am going to miss most here is the people and the great connections. And in a weird way I suppose those little dramas are a bonus as well. But that’s easy for me to say because none of them affected me directly. I was only in it as support or a mere observer.

It makes me wonder if taking on my own personal dramas would enrich my experiences.

?

Really I am not sure about that one.

I like to glide

http://flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603734234347/

http://www.youtube.com/user/dwanjabi

this shy thing

I finally feel at home

Mind you, I’ve been having fun since I left the US 3 weeks ago. First two weeks were the party, the sun, the sand, the tan…

Through my yoga class I made some sweet friends, Nadia and Tonya from Switzerland. I wasn’t planning to leave Arambol and when Nadia asked if I wanted to share a taxi with her to Patnem my first reaction was that it was way too soon to leave. But I slept on it and when I woke up I realized that my approach for this trip to India is to be open to possibilities: no rigid planning or expectations. That’s why when I booked my ticket to India it was one way…to be completely free to what unfolds for me. Where next and when? I don’t know. So when my impulse to answer “no” to travel with a person who I feel so comfortable with as if we’ve been friends for years happened…I checked myself. Why stay in Arambol? Because history proved that 3-4 weeks to stay in Arambol is the norm? Dwan, baby, this is not being open. So I did it. I left.

Patnem…actually not exactly Patnem. It was a quiet and relaxing nook between Patnem and Palolem. Just next to Nadia’s place I got a hut, my own hut complete with a fan, toilet and shower and the random cat that crawled in through the open roof and the colony of ants that had formed in my plastic bag of used toilet paper and tampons. All for 300 rupees. Oh man, that is waaay over my budget. But thankfully I had the bathroom because promptly after arriving to Patnem I got sick. All the probiotics and grapefruit seed extract didn’t help me. So, alas, 6 days in Patnem running to the toilet and laying around in Laguna Vista restaurant. Lying down, chatting with a very nice collection of people, watching young Indian boys climbing on the rocks and the sun setting beyond the single palm tree. We often wondered aloud how we will be able to return home to restaurants that don’t have mattresses so we can lounge and lye down…

Once able to roam and wander beyond the nearby location of a toilet I realized that this isn’t the place for me. But I was conflicted because Tonya showed up 2 days after Nadia and me… and then came Karolina, my Polish friend who I have known for the past two seasons in India. I felt like leaving because… the scene is not mine. And I felt that the only thing keeping me there were these excellent 3 friends. Girl talk, chillin together without having to say a word and the comforts of authentic connection.

I was missing the “freaks” as I call them: people who aren’t afraid to stray from normal expectations. The people in Palolem/Patnem were pretty conventional in appearance and behavior. And I wasn’t challenged by it. So I decided to leave by myself and go to Gokarna.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603679689588/

I am so glad I did!

This is most definitely my scene!

In India, this is the way I roll: I am usually having fun no matter what, but I will float around until I find these places where I feel at home. And Gokarna is my first bull’s-eye. I was here 6 years ago and luckily it hasn’t had the exponential changes like in other amazing spots in India that have been a bit spoiled by the discovery of mainstream tourism.

I’m seeing this return to Gokarna as the completion of a cycle. When I came here 6 years ago it was the first place I came when David and my relationship of 3 years ended. What I found then as I am finding now is joy. Ok, to many the word “joy” is pretty extreme in the happy synonyms. Well, it’s true. I think what I am feeling is “joy”. It’s kind of weird to say.

I am staying at Kudle Beach and it is mostly the same as 6 years ago except for 3 big and very acceptable changes: 1) a few more restaurants with excellent food 2) more people (not too much, cuz there’s a fine line) and 3) toilets! Last time I was here I was sick and there were no toilets. So every time I had to run quickly to take a shit (or squirt, to be more specific) I had to run into a field in view of the nearby wandering cows and the occasional local person. Now all I have to do to get to the toilet is walk through the restaurant past groups of freaky and normal people with no attitude and just really cool because they, in their essence and without a label or scene, are just cool.

Daytime is a bit hot so I usually find some nice shade to chill in until around 3pm when I hit the beach right in front of my guesthouse and very intentionally to the side of the volleyball net. Every day just before sunset a collection of amazing and beautiful people gather in front of my guesthouse to play volleyball, sell their handmade jewelry, make music and look at and interact with all these other amazing diversely international people. One specific area of my attention is going towards this one dreadlocked guy who also happens to be an excellent volleyball player. I can’t tell where he’s from…Israel? Not sure. Actually I think he may be American which is pretty damned novel to see hot and cool American backpacker in India. And damn can he spike that ball.

So I’m trying to work on this shy thing.

Really it is my greatest struggle in life. I’ve been aware of it as a barrier and how it impedes with my potential relationships…both friends and more. So I have this approach to my trip to really open up. Not just open to travel and seeing things…I already do that. I mean open my heart and avail myself to connections…to laugh at my fears and shift from the pain in my history and be like a child that has purity in interacting.

That volleyball guy. I decided that he is going to be my little experiment. I am making eye contact and am in his vicinity. Listen, it’s a start. For me this is progress. I am being my amazing self…because that’s what it takes. You have to know you are an amazing person and show it to the world. And I don’t mean conceit! I mean to learn to love who you are and to then take this lovable person and deliver it. So there I sit and feel this joy amongst the beauty in pretty much everything around me…and, ok, watching this beautiful man spike the ball to give his team another point.

and I smile.

The “problem” is that I am approached by several men and enjoy lovely conversations. But they’re not the ones.

I’ve been told that this shy thing I’ve got is only bringing to me those that pursue me and then I am less likely to be with the ones that I choose. It’s really true. Almost every guy I’ve ever dated has pursued me. You know what? I don’t feel like waiting around for the ones I want to come to me. So therein is my little situation where I am working up my courage to break out of this stupid shy thing. and while I slowly wind up for the pitch I am sidetracked by the men who approach me. I feel ungrateful for their attention and I also feel like I should like these men because they really are nice and all. But I keep looking at the volleyball guy. Even after the game is over and the sun has set. There I sat with the nice Israeli guy who I am really enjoying our conversation but can’t help looking at the volleyball guy who sits alone nearby in the now empty beach. Aargh!

You know, even if nothing ever happens with this volleyball guy this is freakin fun. Just having a crush for me is enough. I guess…

Guess where I will be again tonight at sunset?

Bom

http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157603734234347/

No, I don’t “do” yoga

The first time I tried yoga was in March 2003 in the yoga capital: Rishikesh…the place where the Beatles found their guru…amongst other things. It was the most spectacular setting for yoga: outdoors in the fresh air of the mountainous northern regions of India and home to the onset of the Ganga River. Our class met on the rooftop for clear views of the open sky, trees and the sunsets; to which we would salute repeatedly.

Through the past several years I’ve had random encounters with strangers who have approached me, surmising that I “do” yoga…and as the chap the other day said so eloquently: “it is just an intuitive hunch”.

So whenever approached and asked if I “do” yoga I usually pause and look to some spot skyward and screw up my face a bit…and give an uncertain rambling answer like “well, I think yoga has a lot of potential and I’ve tried it a few times, but I guess I don’t really “do” yoga…but I’d like to give it a try”.

So the onset of this India journey seemed such perfect timing to give yoga another try. I really needed some sort of a schedule to start off my trip. The first few days found me floundering about from the beach to the town and my room…and not sure what to do with myself and all this free time. The class schedule forcing me to wake up each day and be at class by 9:30am gave me the structure I needed as I eased in to the slow non structured life in a beach town in Goa. In addition to having somewhere to be and something to do I had a vehicle for interaction…which is pretty essential to me. I feel much more comfortable interacting with strangers if we have some common thread to motivate a chat…instead of going at it cold with a “so…how long have you been in India already?”, etc.

So now I’m at day 3 of an intensive class comprised of a pretty solid and nice group of people. I’ve got some bonds solidifying with these folks and have already begun to socialize outside of class and even talk about other things besides yoga.

And thank god for that

Because

Today I realized

I DON’T “DO” YOGA

I’m not into it!

Nope!

Halleluiah!

All these years that I’ve felt that self imposed pressure that I should be doing yoga…and that one day I would master it…and that it’s my calling…and all those late nights in my bedroom when I was 8 years old and just naturally striking all the yoga poses meant that I was I yoga master in some previous life…and because I am so fit I can take on any physical exercise expertly without effort …and …and …and

So I was sitting in day 3 today and I was feeling an incredibly amount of pressure as to why I don’t feel comfortable standing completely upside down on my head. And why can’t I do it? Am I weak? Am I loser? If I don’t do it am I quitter??

And you know what I realized? It is OK for me to not “do” yoga!!

Hooray!!!

It is so silly to have created such pressure for myself. I mean, I don’t beat myself up about not snowboarding, yet I can pause at the half-pipe and admire how freaking cool snowboard tricks appear to me, yet not feel like a loser because I’m not doing it.

I reflect back to the gorgeous locale of my Rishikesh yoga class 5 years ago and now remember having felt a bit uncomfortable with several of the poses. …and had ultimately bowed out of the class toward the end of the week. Usually, without the reminders of my current yoga class, my memories of my first class are strongly fixed on the Ganga riverside class and the rooftop with the open air and the nature and the beautiful dreadlocked international men in my class, etc. And yes I do remember how the teacher pulled me in front of the class to use me as a headstand example which ultimately was mildly traumatic which precipitated me quitting back then. But I choose to reflect more on the aforementioned aspects that served me best instead of the humiliation of crying from the anxiety of a pose I was not prepared to do in front of a class.

And today when faced with a similar headstand or even the milder backbend pose I realized:

I’m not into it.

Here comes the introspective wandering conclusion:

While I jokingly tell my friends (both from the class and not) that I am a “quitter” and chuckle about it…the reality is that I can appreciate so many talents and expressions of creativity without feeling the need to duplicate it in style, form or anything similar. I can just love the beauty of what it is and take the residual energy of the joy of appreciation and apply it to MY loves and passions and creations.

So let me take this opportunity to thank all you beautiful creators, performers and talented people. I appreciate you and your gifts of raising that creative vibration.

And yes, this means you yoga masters, too.

the day before i left for India

Today I teeter on in the middle of my two worlds

The full moon intensifies

So much reflection and melancholy emotions

I face the spirit and am so curious of this direction I head

What a funny game to play with me

To have so much love and friendship blossom in the past 3 months

And then to depart from it

To reemerge into the other side

To see beauty

To make friendships

To fall in love

Only to depart once again to my Portland roots

The emotional transitions of leading one life in two worlds

It breaks my heart while it runs over

It is the strangest experience

So hard to describe

It has taught me so many useful lessons in beauty of lessened attachment

Yet this time as I go I feel attached

And think this may be one of the more emotional transitions

I am going to miss so many of you so much while I’m in India

Don’t doubt that, despite all the hot Europeans and Israeli men jumping around in the sand hitting volleyballs to each other blocking my view of the ocean waves, I will be thinking of sooooo many of you all the time.

Thank you for the love and friendship you have blessed my life with

You know who you are

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DUE TO UNFORSEEN CONFLICTS, DWANJABI WILL NOT BE AT:
First Friday at the Watershed
December 7
6pm - 10pm
The Watershed - 5040 SE Milwaukie, Portland

"don't quit your day job"

that has to be one of the lamest pieces of cliche advice i've ever heard.

one year ago
on the day before thanksgiving
was my last day at a "day job"

lovely timing right at thanksgiving
because now each year i am reminded to give thanks
for having passions
and having a direction
and having people in my life to encourage and support me
and thanks for getting off my bum and going for it
and thanks for all the joy in this flow
and all the gifts from the synchronicity of honoring my intended path
loving you, life
loving you, friends

now let's eat
and make merry

Dwanjabi trunk show

Dwanjabi trunk show THIS WEEKEND

Introducing the new dwanjabi autumn/winter 2007 line of clothes!

To kick off the big debut, I am hosting a trunk show this weekend in Portland.

Saturday & Sunday November 10 & 11

Noon – 8pm each day

2916 NE 48^th Ave, Portland, OR

Photos are here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/meredith415/sets/72157602233624753/

Come enjoy a hot cup of homemade masala chai and check out the new gear.

BRING FRIENDS!

In addition to the clothing I have personally made there will be:

• lampshade kits
• leather skirts
• leather belts
• leather bags
• leather holster bags
• gemstone pendants and hair wands
• runic gemstone sets
• big funky wool hats
• silk sequin & velvet embroidered hats
• fleece vests & dresses
• sueded microfiber skirts
• Bindis galore!

http://www.dwanjabi.com

Completing one cycle and wrapping up one year

What a summer !

What a year !!

It was a little over a year ago when I made the decision to finally go for it…to get off mi bum and actually DO what I had continued to only dream of…and had let intimidation prevent me from pursuing.

The past year has been a release from answering to any bosses and assisting others’ paths while rejecting my own passions by plunging into entrepreneurial pursuits. By taking on the complete unknown and diving in head-first, one year and full cycle later I feel like I have attained a crash course MBA in the school of life; an MBA with a specialty in entrepreneurial overseas production and collection of clothing and other lifestyle accoutrements.

The dwanjabi website was dreamed up one year ago. After its launch in December I departed for India. Most of the blog content of my traveling experiences didn’t contain the stress, confusion, frustration, excitement and inspiration of working with Indian and Nepalese designers and exporters. I realized the cultural difference between us was an interesting dimension when doing business. To inspire potential future travelers I focused my writing on the experiential growth that overseas travel brings rather than confusing it with my 1st year of business frenzy.

My initiation to finding local designers to work with was stressful because there were many moments when I was surrounded by international seasoned people in the same business as me…and it was so intimidating to see their confidence and obvious experience! Thankfully there were two women I acquainted from England and Australia who were willing to sit and chat with me from a seasoned viewpoint. These chats calmed me down and shifted my stressful perspective to more ease and productivity. What I needed to do all along was overcome the feeling of competition. I concluded that all of us in this business have different visions and style as we create our line of clothes. Once I realized this, I was able to feel more carefree and really enjoy delving into this passion of creating clothes in the amazing lands of India.

Upon returning to Portland in the beginning of May this year (and only a week later having my products arrive with me)…I had entered a whole new dimension.

Shifting from producing a clothing line, I was next developing contacts, vending opportunities and enthusiastic customers. Festivals had been an amazing social and musical forum for me for the past ten years so they felt like fun and fantastic venues to use for my mobile dwanjabi boutique.Thanks to my newly acquired van, Avani, I was able to travel as far north as Whidbey Island, WA and as far south as the region just near Yosemite National Park in California. Beautiful souls and new friends graced my life and I was so happy to get the direct interface with people from all over who not only loved what I had worked hard to put together, but were so grateful for the reasonable prices I offer on what I sell. When asked if I have a store somewhere, I would reply with a sweeping arm towards my dwanjabi tent, “This is it”.

For now, this is true, my store travels just like how I love to live. My passion for travel and the personal evolution that comes with it is what fuels how I have decided to pursue my calling.

Going to Burning Man one month ago was interesting because it was another festival, yet one where I was not there in the capacity of vending dwanjabi clothes. Because of this my preparations beforehand became focused on putting together some new creations for myself to wear on the playa. Sitting back at my sewing machine in mid-August re-ignited a creative fire inside me. With this new inspiration I decided to single-handedly sew a line of clothes for an autumn & winter dwanjabi line. For the past month, when not at Burning Man or vending at festivals, I have been M.I.A. in the social scenes as I dwell in my sewing studio creating.

Each finished creation is so exciting to me! I am inspired and looking forward to releasing the entire collection!

While the first year or two of any business brings on struggles that tend to smooth out in time, I have still been able to enjoy the hard work and learning curves.

The greatest complement was a week ago at the Symbiosis Gathering, the festival I feel most aligned with in my personal interests out of all I have brought my dwanjabi shop to. There was non-stop foot traffic through my dwanjabi “boutique” and the sales were my best yet. To be received so well in a large gathering of what I see representing my real tribe (as far as alignments and interests go) is one of the greatest blessings I’ve had yet in my dwanjabi endeavors.

Now that autumn is here, my routine has shifted. My days are filled with sewing and creating, studying and practicing for my Hindi language class I have begun and reconnecting with friends after a summer filled with fun distractions.

just what I kneaded

There’s something about Bhagsu that draws me to its fresh air, views, steep slopes and backpacker hangouts to finish most of my visits to India. It’s mostly because all those qualities get me into a relaxed state that helps balance all the stimulation collected from throughout the most of elsewhere in India. And now I’m looking toward my near future shift in locations which is in Portland, Oregon.

In this visit to the mountains of Himachal Pradesh I became involved in Ayurvedics.
As of this week I have a certification in basic Ayurvedic massage!
In the past have always liked trading massages with friends but have felt unsure of exactly what to do with my hands. So taking the class has given me direction of how to not only help relax someone with a productive touch but I can also release toxins and blocked meridian points.

I admit that I decided to take this class was not only for a massage lesson but firstly was an ice breaker for me.
Bhagsu and neighboring Mcleod Ganj’s buildings are covered with fliers with information about classes on: Buddhism, Indian and Tibetan cooking classes, meditation, yoga and so on.
But this time in Bhagsu a massage class was perfect. I realize I need to overcome my reserved and shy nature and tried bucking this by using physical touch with strangers. It was a good experience for me!
(Although I still have a long way to go from being reserved and shy).

Fresh on the heels of my Ayurvedic education, I felt curious about Panchakarma; an Ayurvedic body detox program. Ayurveda philosophy links the body and emotions as aligned, so that when physical problems appear in one’s body, they are a manifestation of emotional imbalance. And vice versa.
The program was 10 days of a very restricted (and boring) diet, a daily Ayurvedic massage and flushing the body of all pent up toxins. The end result is a lighter and happier self with a healthier body.
Now that my 10 days are up, I can attest that I do feel more at peace with issues that normally agitate me. In addition I’ve been approached by many friends who’ve commented that I look great lately.
So…yay!
One thing I should mention however is that the therapy is no walk in the park. The massages are deep tissue massages that were incredibly painful and left me with bruises.
…and the flushing of the toxins?
Well, let’s just say that my “primo” location room next to where all the backpackers hang out became not so ideal. I had no attached bathroom and during the peak of my therapy I was watched by ~20 people as I ran from my room across the yard to the toilet every 30 minutes with a roll of flailing toilet paper. That last flapping square of tissue was like a flag waving to everyone: “yes, this chick has got the runs”.

Other than Ayurvedics I made some truly sweet friendships here.
You know…when you have no cares in the world and you’re sharing fresh air, stars, nice music and amazing conversations with kindred souls?
…

Now I’m weaning myself slowly from the chilled out bliss I find in Bhagsu.
Here in Delhi I can actually answer the question “how much more time in India?” instead of with weeks and months…now with hours.

Yep, one day to go—24 hours from now I’ll be idle and wandering around the airport.

I’m ready though.

The past trips to India for me have ended with me feeling a true sense of ending. Professionally I either had nothing to return to or I did have a job waiting for me, but my most important passions were not synched with.
This time leaving India is just the end of one chapter of my cycle. What I have ahead of me and waiting at home is truly exciting. I have been getting so jacked this whole trip as I have collected and collaborated with creative Indian and foreign people from around the world. With each piece of clothes or accessory that I put together with the people here I think of many of the amazing people at home who will look great wearing it.
I am stoked to share them all!

My writing thus far has mostly been focused on the experiences, lessons, contemplation and evolution that foreign travel provides me.
My passion of foreign travel is one I hope others can also grow from.

As for the tangible goodies I hadn’t written so much about what I’m bringing back. But now I can’t contain myself…
There is so much fun stuff!
And I’m excited to see you wearing it.



As for leaving India…
I don’t feel so sad
Mostly because I have so much to look forward to at home.
But also because I know that I’ll be back again.

Bom!

********
photos are here

video is here

the ends of the spectrum...and within

I’m often confused when I hear the common advice many travelers give to India newbies of: “Avoid Delhi. Get in and get out as fast as you can.”

Wow…you won’t hear those words from me.

I (heart) New Delhi.

India’s capital city is messy, chaotic, fun, impoverished, sophisticated, stimulating and old fashioned (even while rounding the curve of modern technology). What I like best though is how the Pahar Ganj region (the main bazaar) is a crossroads of most travelers coming into, out of or through India. While here I can often be found at a street side dhaba enjoying a delicious masala chai while watching a typical day in the life flow by me.

Motorized rickshaws spewing pollution while barely missing a limping beggar as it speeds by.

The man selling mangoes, the delicious fruit which have just come into season.

Cows, even in such a huge city and on one of its most congested streets, are still found everywhere slowly grazing on whatever comes in its path…usually paper or the unfortunate plastic bag.

The other foreigners are fun to watch as well. They’re a huge part of the scene here because everyone is either waiting for their flight home, on their way somewhere north or south…or they’ve just arrived to India in the past day or two.

The latter group is the most amusing to watch.

They’re incredibly easy to spot. First of all, their skin is pasty & fair, their clothes fresh and clean and their hair usually has had a trim in the past few weeks. Best yet, and totally hilarious to me, is to watch their body language. Most of the newbies appear pretty uncomfortable and disoriented…as well they should be. It’s like a different planet over here. They flinch and react to every stimulus around them…which is unending and intense.

On the other end of the spectrum are the seasoned travelers coasting on their 2^nd or 4^th month; smooth and unaffected by the nonstop approaches from beggars, vendors and the motorbike that they barely missed being hit by…just at the last second.

I can’t count how many times I’ve been to New Delhi, but my guess is somewhere around 20. If you can believe it, until now I had never taken advantage of the wealth of historical sites, cultures and neighborhoods here. I was having too much fun in Pahar Ganj running into friends I had made along my way…and creating new ones to carry forward.

Sometimes I have a bit of a battle when making decisions of how I go about traveling. If I’m hanging out in one place for a long time I feel lazy and that I should be moving and seeing as many places as I can.

But then when I’m rapidly itinerating I ask myself why I can’t slow down and enjoy each place longer and more in-depth.

What ends up happening is that my travel style yo-yos. For example, I sit in Goa for one month and then flee to zip around Madhya Pradesh. Then spend another month in Pushkar, and I’m out of the gates, jumping from spot to spot.

Anyway, the little maharaja on my one shoulder kept telling me to go out into Delhi and see what’s there. Despite the retorts of the maharaja on the other shoulder, I decided to get off my buns and check out the city.

Sauntering past the eddies of dust, piles of cow poo and barking mangy flea infested feral mutts, I enter the spotlessly clean, efficient and modern metro station, the city’s fantastic light rail system. No more bickering with rickshaw drivers for a reasonable price to drive me where I want to go. Now I step up the window to buy a 6 rupee token and then through the turnstile. A slick train approaches within minutes and the automatic doors open welcoming me into the densely packed car…with hopefully one handle free for me to grasp (or else, with the first tug of the metro’s onward movement I’m likely to fall flat on my face…and take down the woman next to me in the yellow glittery saree).

My 2^nd stop (after my usual mandatory first stop to get a REAL latte) was at Delhi’s Red Fort. Maybe only 2^nd or 3^rd to the Taj Mahal in tourism sites in India, this walled-in property is filled with ancient buildings, museums and to my surprise…

a field of marijuana!

Smoking marijuana in India is illegal (unless you are a Hindu holy man) but the plant itself is not. So while I’m used to seeing huge fields of naturally growing marijuana in far north of India, it was pretty funny to find it in the far corner of one of India’s most popular sightseeing destinations.

Next stop was the Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in the country. Muslims flock here from all over the city (and country) to worship during the scheduled Muslim prayer times (which I haven’t figured out yet). Afterwards, as I sat in a nearby predominantly Muslim neighborhood, I pondered this culture. I don’t understand the religion and I definitely feel lacking of understanding as to why the women hide themselves in black purdah cloths.

However, these people are consistently friendly when I meet them. My previous ignorant judgment dissolves as I, a tall white obviously non-Muslim woman, wander through their alleyways and am repeatedly welcomed with a chair to sit and a chai to sip.

This visit to Delhi was, as usual, a crossroads for me. I was still undecided as to where I should go next as I headed north. The first option I contemplated was joining the wave of most traveler friends from Pushkar heading to the familiar location of Dharamsala. I’ve been there twice already and it’s pretty much a sure bet that I’ll have beautiful weather, scenery, friendships and more.

My other option was the unknown mountains of Uttaranchal. I have been hearing great things about the Almora vicinity for several years now, and despite my best intentions, making the out of the way journey there had never manifested…until now.

The truth was that I had felt afraid of going there alone. I don’t mean fear as in the possibility of being harmed. It was more an avoidance of facing loneliness.

If I never face my fears, how can I evolve and better myself?

So, with minor hesitation, I chose to make the move north to Kasar Devi, the mountain looming above the mountain village of Almora.

So back to square one again, alone and knowing no one…

I traded the tourist crossroads for them thar hills of Uttaranchal.

As my taxi made the final ascent on winding cliff-hugging dirt roads I pondered whether it was just a quirky India-ism or an omen when my taxi hit a dog and left him whelping in pain behind us.

I was surprised to discover Kasar Devi to be mostly unaffected by tourism. Almost every room for let exists within or as an extension to a villagers’ household. So most travelers there are, you can say, adopted by a host family. Each night for dinner the guests eat thali together family-style, prepared by the family while the children entertain us with their hi-jinks.

The sort of travelers who stay in Kasar Devi are ones who come to India to immerse themselves in the culture and make an effort to speak Hindi. This was inspiring and fantastic to me because I usually find that, in other touristy locations, I am only one of the few people who make this effort.

To stay in Kasar Devi is to take on the lifestyle of a mountain villager.

The water situation is a serious issue. As a guest, I am given one bucket of cold water every couple days for bathing. So rationing is essential…as well as an extra layer of deodorant. In the morning I woke to the sound of birds…and the squabbling villagers competing over the lottery rationed water for that day. The loser to be seen later, making multiple trips up the steep mountainside with large water containers atop their heads.

Gorgeous scenery is generous here.

The sunny and dry climate somehow permits a tropical plant like a lemon tree to live side by side with evergreens. Looking beyond the fruits and the bees buzzing from blossom to blossom on the trees is infinity…

My family’s home sits atop the Devi’s spine affording 360 degree views out & across...

up & down…

If I really watched closely I could see that tiny moving red speck on the wheat terrace is a farmer plowing the field with his buffalo.

At night the sunset welcomed in darkness with a brilliant display of stars, free from the muting of city lights which I am accustomed to at home.

The horizon line disappears and land blends with sky as the erratically placed village homes in the valley below create their own constellation to blend with the universe around me.

In this expanse

and fresh air

and beauty

it was true

I felt lonely.

The irony though is that when I sat alone by my room, watching the 6 month old buffalo eat,

or the soaring hawks ride the wind

or just thinking about life…

I felt content and whole.

It was when I sat with others in social meeting places when I felt lonely.

And I have absolutely nothing or no one to blame but myself.

Opportunity and friendliness were everywhere at my grasp when I visited the few Kasar Devi socializing spots.

Yet I created a barrier that would not permit connections.

And WHILE this was happening I was completely aware of the wall I had put up.

And I have no idea why I do it.

Or how to overcome this tendency of mine.

I think all these years I’ve put off a visit to Kasar Devi because I had a premonition of my dynamic there.

After 5 days I decided to leave.

In a way I feel like I gave up…to return to a more familiar and easier path.

Three hours before my departure as I sat silently scolding myself for creating a divide between myself and connections, the very thing I seek most in life…

I decided to face my fear once again.

In a rare moment for India, I heard across the room the voice of a mellow and gentle man telling someone he’s from America.

I forced myself to do what is normally frightening and I walked up to him directly and introduced myself. This may not sound like a big challenge for you outgoing folks, and I encourage you to not take for granted your ease in initiating conversations with strangers.

For me, I was almost stuttering I was so nervous.

Anyway, there’s no big climax to this part of the story like we rode off on a pony together into the sunset.

But I feel good about initiating what ended up being a several hour, very connected conversation.

There’s some famous advice out there saying you should try something you’re afraid of every day.

So far for me, it’s just occasionally.

But I’m working on it.

new delhi photos here

kasar devi photos here

http://www.dwanjabi.com