We floated from Kollam to Allepy after Varkala on a David-the-Gnome style houseboat. Three particularly interesting Indian men steered the rig, brought us food, then made friends with us and took us to visit their teensy village. Our chef introduced us to his friends (one of whom is an impeccable Michael Jackson-impersonating dancer) and family. The town and home we visited were not extremely humble compared to some I've seen in India so far, but they were definitely extreme compared to Western standards. Two small rooms house a family of...well, it's hard to tell how many people lived there amongst all the mothers and grannys and bouncing toddlers and children, but they were a bustling, healthy family. Glittering with contentment. Nothing but each other and who needs much else? The landscape of rice fields, fruit trees, and the calm Keralan backwaters shroud their village in peace and quiet.
Allepy is an awesome little town. We were quickly fitted with a small beach-front hut with hammocks out front, two bikes, and a bunch of friends. People like to talk to us a lot where ever we go, but these peeps buzzed around us like flies and even peered in our window at night (and then later stealing our treats by sticking their hand through the window bars) making it quite hard to relax. But despite the mildly annoying clinging behavior of the locals, that town was a breeze to enjoy. Good food, friendly, funny folks, an abundance of Indian culture, etc. We made a couple of traveling buddies as well.
From there we took the advice of a friend and headed for the mountains, though we had to train to Calicut first, a smallish town further north up the coast. There we found ourselves unable to stay anywhere for less than 1700 rupees/night (we are used to under 500/night). We saw the entire town from our rickshaw as we searched and searched for a cheap place to stay to no avail. Apparently there have been some new legal restrictions placed on business for dealing with foreigners, some extra paperwork and the like, due to terrorist activities that have happened recently in India. No one wanted to do the paperwork, apparently. But the place we did end up staying was like going to heaven. A hot shower, comfortable bed, legitimately-sized pillows. Cable television. Amazing. Poni and I promptly turned into slugs and spent much more time there than we intended, drunk with amenities and luxury. We did almost nothing in Calicut, actually, except see part of a movie in the local theater, and go to a bar by the beach. It was the first bar I've been to in weeks, and we stuck out like cute little sore thumbs in a sea of beer-guzzling Indian men.
Well, we did actually do a lot in Calicut if you count emotional and circumstantial processing. Our relationship status has changed from "couple" to "friendship", which is a bit on the heavy side for ye olde hearts to weather, but has lightened the mood considerably in many ways. Something about India makes coupling difficult for many a pair, or so I have heard. I think both of us have faith in the universe no matter our relationship label. If anything, India provides one with the ability to have faith in abundance, despite the colorfully grimy and predictable intensity permeating our experiences.
We peeled ourselves out of our king-sized fancy land of a hotel room and stuffed ourselves onto a bus to Kalpeta. Standing the whole way, surrounded with our baggage and screaming children and sweating bodies while a bus flew at maddening speeds up a mountain, whirring around deathly sharp corners and nearly flying off cliffs at every turn. I paused to feel a little frightened from time to time, but mostly gasped at the fabulous landscapes filled with greenery, misty mountains and tea plantations.
I sat on the balcony of our budget hotel room this morning, started my fourth journal of this trip, and noted the crisply cool weather nipping at my toes. I thought of it as an omen, considering the weather I expect to return to in little over a week. I cannot believe how the time has flown, and am again noting the subtle and completely obvious ways India has rearranged me.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Kanyakumari and Varkala
A few sardine-tin packed trains took Poni and I to Kanyakumari, the very southern-most point in India. We watched the sunset. That's what we went there to do. Afterwards we headed for some darshan in a thousand-year-old Shiva temple. It was just a little pin-prick of a town. Eeerily free of mosquitoes, allowing me to lounge outside at twilight on the balcony of our hotel room, watching the Indian men smoke, drink tiny chais, tie their lungis up and down. If I must be reborn after this life, I wish to be born as an Indian man. (follow that link down to the entry posted Sunday, Feb 7th...I was there btw!) I could go on and on about their impeccable taste in fashion. They have perfected the art of "chilling out". They always look like complete BAD-ASSES.
Yet another train with people stuffed and hanging out the doorways took us to Varkala. We found a hotel room big enough to be our mini yoga shala. Cheap and run by very pleasantly and adorably stoned lads. Everywhere there are adorably stoned Indian men, many who claim, strangely enough, to be from Jamaica. White people are all over this place, trotting around with their thighs and shoulders and cleavage glowing in the blazing tropical sun. It seems a bit rude to me that Western people should dress in such a way in sacred India, but the tourist market seems to have expanded significantly, and all the shops along "the Cliff" overlooking the beach sell all kinds of tiny clothing for the pale and wealthy. I can't wait to make clothes.
Speaking of clothes, I am obsessed with Lady Gaga. I think about her for hours on end. Then I think maybe it will be good for me to have a job soon.
We got massages. Amazing massages. I have had fish. Amazing fish. And we have been to the beach, and played in the waves. Poni and I have splashed in our own waves. Waves of nausea, waves of sleeplessness, waves of social interaction, waves of awkward miscommunication, waves of emotion spurred by the awkwardness. We seem to know how to ride waves really well, actually. Or we are getting better.
Tomorrow we rise early to go to Kollam for our houseboat tour of the backwaters of Kerala. This is our "splurge" for the trip, though we tend to do a lot of splurging. Just us, our cook, our driver, and the jungle floating by...
Yet another train with people stuffed and hanging out the doorways took us to Varkala. We found a hotel room big enough to be our mini yoga shala. Cheap and run by very pleasantly and adorably stoned lads. Everywhere there are adorably stoned Indian men, many who claim, strangely enough, to be from Jamaica. White people are all over this place, trotting around with their thighs and shoulders and cleavage glowing in the blazing tropical sun. It seems a bit rude to me that Western people should dress in such a way in sacred India, but the tourist market seems to have expanded significantly, and all the shops along "the Cliff" overlooking the beach sell all kinds of tiny clothing for the pale and wealthy. I can't wait to make clothes.
Speaking of clothes, I am obsessed with Lady Gaga. I think about her for hours on end. Then I think maybe it will be good for me to have a job soon.
We got massages. Amazing massages. I have had fish. Amazing fish. And we have been to the beach, and played in the waves. Poni and I have splashed in our own waves. Waves of nausea, waves of sleeplessness, waves of social interaction, waves of awkward miscommunication, waves of emotion spurred by the awkwardness. We seem to know how to ride waves really well, actually. Or we are getting better.
Tomorrow we rise early to go to Kollam for our houseboat tour of the backwaters of Kerala. This is our "splurge" for the trip, though we tend to do a lot of splurging. Just us, our cook, our driver, and the jungle floating by...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Auroville
O.M.G. Salad greens! Kombucha! Tuna salad sandwich on wheat bread! Glorious foods I have consumed here in Auroville, the first stop for Poni and I on our brief tour of southern India after months in Mysore. Auroville is a self-described "Divine anarchy" where people from all over the world have worked to create a sustainable community that is not based on religion, but rather a unifying consciousness of the divine. Based on the ideas of two people, Sri Aurobindo and someone known as "the Mother", and founded in 1968, this community seems to be a visionary success, if not a bit angsty and cultish. Indian people make up about forty percent of the population, the rest mostly white or Western. People wear miniskirts here and get all touchy-feely in public. They eat at a giant solar kitchen and meditate in a bulbous temple dubbed the Matri Mandir, a structure straight out of the heart of what I imagine the late sixties to have been like.
Not only have Poni and I had amazing raw, vegan, organic, and completely non-Indian Western hippie foods in abundance, but we have also seen the BEACH, and a beautiful ashram in the city of Pondicherry, a quaint and very French-influenced town about ten miles outside of Auroville. Our guide, and Poni's longtime friend, Ethan, has been showing us around when he has time outside of his busy schedule at the Youth Camp he teaches environmental science at. The "youths" are spirited American college students with idealism glittering in their eyes. They and their camp (and subsequently Poni and I as well for the past few days) are kept clean and extremely well fed by the Tamil Indian folks working here. Much of the grunt work in Auroville, it seems, is done by Indian hands, which is no doubt a subject of constant moral debate for the rest of the community. I am feeling quite at home here, gobbling herbal energy ladus and fruit keifer drinks, Poni and I debating the debatability of the term "anarchy" as it has been applied here, and being constantly reminded of my glorious days at Fairhaven College in Bellingham, where I too once had idyllic glittering eyes and a fierce passion for unity, knowledge, progressive thinking, and what have you. Not that I don't still feel that way now, I just feel a whole bunch of other things as well.
It has been a lovely stay for the most part, but the time has inevitably flown, and we are preparing to leave tomorrow, much to the chagrin of Poni, who has fallen digestively ill again, and will be missing his friend Ethan, who has been a refreshing figure in our travel adventures.
As the moon wanes yet again, I find myself dreaming of family and of babies I might have one day, and missing my friends harder than ever. I have dreams congealing in my heart for the chapter of my life which will directly follow India. All plans of the past have been weeded thoroughly and all new ones have begun to flourish in their place. I have been sleeping and sleeping and sleeping, and meditating and meditating and meditating. I taught some more yoga to a few folks the other day as well, which may have been my first experience teaching anything at all to a group of folks. It was really fun and taught me a lot about...teaching.
Next we head to the state of Kerala and the very tip of India (which is still in Tamil Nadu) to see some amazing sunsets/rises. We plan to spend most of our time on the beach, and possibly on houseboats in the backwaters, and most certainly eating more amazing food, though perhaps not quite as hippie fresh as the foods of the past few days.
Not only have Poni and I had amazing raw, vegan, organic, and completely non-Indian Western hippie foods in abundance, but we have also seen the BEACH, and a beautiful ashram in the city of Pondicherry, a quaint and very French-influenced town about ten miles outside of Auroville. Our guide, and Poni's longtime friend, Ethan, has been showing us around when he has time outside of his busy schedule at the Youth Camp he teaches environmental science at. The "youths" are spirited American college students with idealism glittering in their eyes. They and their camp (and subsequently Poni and I as well for the past few days) are kept clean and extremely well fed by the Tamil Indian folks working here. Much of the grunt work in Auroville, it seems, is done by Indian hands, which is no doubt a subject of constant moral debate for the rest of the community. I am feeling quite at home here, gobbling herbal energy ladus and fruit keifer drinks, Poni and I debating the debatability of the term "anarchy" as it has been applied here, and being constantly reminded of my glorious days at Fairhaven College in Bellingham, where I too once had idyllic glittering eyes and a fierce passion for unity, knowledge, progressive thinking, and what have you. Not that I don't still feel that way now, I just feel a whole bunch of other things as well.
It has been a lovely stay for the most part, but the time has inevitably flown, and we are preparing to leave tomorrow, much to the chagrin of Poni, who has fallen digestively ill again, and will be missing his friend Ethan, who has been a refreshing figure in our travel adventures.
As the moon wanes yet again, I find myself dreaming of family and of babies I might have one day, and missing my friends harder than ever. I have dreams congealing in my heart for the chapter of my life which will directly follow India. All plans of the past have been weeded thoroughly and all new ones have begun to flourish in their place. I have been sleeping and sleeping and sleeping, and meditating and meditating and meditating. I taught some more yoga to a few folks the other day as well, which may have been my first experience teaching anything at all to a group of folks. It was really fun and taught me a lot about...teaching.
Next we head to the state of Kerala and the very tip of India (which is still in Tamil Nadu) to see some amazing sunsets/rises. We plan to spend most of our time on the beach, and possibly on houseboats in the backwaters, and most certainly eating more amazing food, though perhaps not quite as hippie fresh as the foods of the past few days.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Dear Mysore...
Thank you.
Thank you for the yoga, my Guruji Iyengar, travel buddies and Ukulele time. Thank you for all of the Gods in the air, in the cows, in the smiles, under my nails. Thank you for the songs you've inspired, the tears, the blood, the sweating in excess. Thank you for the pranayama, the mudras, the philosophy that has changed my life. Thank you for Lungis, and Idlis, and scooting around. Thank you for the romance, and the enforced time alone/ coupled. Thank you for all the lessons I have to learn every day, for the street boys I battle, for the crazy full and new moons. Thank you for all the weird yogis from all over the world I have met, and for the oddly boring parties that have served as awesome performance opportunities. Thank you for the pool, for all my sunburns that have almost evenly tanned my hide, for the romance and the magic. Thank you for the digestive problems that have thoroughly cleaned out my emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual systems. Thank you for breaking both of my Ipods for no apparent reason, and forcing me to play more music. Thank you for the beautiful garbage and the coconut men and the constant holiday celebrations. Thank you for the market, and Indra Cafe, and Joe and Dave and Nok and Ness and Nigel and Annie and Mark and...Thank you for Poni and power outages and dancing and sleeping and walking and laughing and crying. Thank you for making things clear to me. Clear-er at least. Thank you for the yoga teaching certificate and for the meditating. Thank you for all of the droning days that go so quickly and slowly. Thank you for making me feel at home here, finally. Thank you for giving me a break. Thank you for being awesome and horrible and amazing and boring and accomidating and supportive and for kicking my ass.
See you next year, maybe.
Thank you for the yoga, my Guruji Iyengar, travel buddies and Ukulele time. Thank you for all of the Gods in the air, in the cows, in the smiles, under my nails. Thank you for the songs you've inspired, the tears, the blood, the sweating in excess. Thank you for the pranayama, the mudras, the philosophy that has changed my life. Thank you for Lungis, and Idlis, and scooting around. Thank you for the romance, and the enforced time alone/ coupled. Thank you for all the lessons I have to learn every day, for the street boys I battle, for the crazy full and new moons. Thank you for all the weird yogis from all over the world I have met, and for the oddly boring parties that have served as awesome performance opportunities. Thank you for the pool, for all my sunburns that have almost evenly tanned my hide, for the romance and the magic. Thank you for the digestive problems that have thoroughly cleaned out my emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual systems. Thank you for breaking both of my Ipods for no apparent reason, and forcing me to play more music. Thank you for the beautiful garbage and the coconut men and the constant holiday celebrations. Thank you for the market, and Indra Cafe, and Joe and Dave and Nok and Ness and Nigel and Annie and Mark and...Thank you for Poni and power outages and dancing and sleeping and walking and laughing and crying. Thank you for making things clear to me. Clear-er at least. Thank you for the yoga teaching certificate and for the meditating. Thank you for all of the droning days that go so quickly and slowly. Thank you for making me feel at home here, finally. Thank you for giving me a break. Thank you for being awesome and horrible and amazing and boring and accomidating and supportive and for kicking my ass.
See you next year, maybe.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
GOD
There is an older lady who lives at the household who so kindly let me park my scooter in their driveway. She is so sweet and toddling and smiles so warmly at me when Poni and I retrieve the scooter every morning. The other day she was at the pool and fell and fractured her leg so badly she couldn't even sit in a seat to be flown to another hospital outside of Mysore for an operation. When I heard this news from her family I said I would be praying for her. So that's what I did.
I sat on the front stoop of our apt. complex folded my hands in a prayer position at my forhead and prayed for her healing. It felt so good I kept praying for things. I went to bed praying, and awoke praying. I prayed through my practice and at breakfast before I ate my food. Poni and I took a trip to the local Ganesh temple a day or two before and I think that's where I got my inspiration. I've thus far appreciated the immensity of the payer vibes in the temples here, but now I've started to participate. It feels amazing to actually believe something. To feel a connection. To relax and enjoy. To find a piece of God...yes, GOD...in my heart.
I sat on the front stoop of our apt. complex folded my hands in a prayer position at my forhead and prayed for her healing. It felt so good I kept praying for things. I went to bed praying, and awoke praying. I prayed through my practice and at breakfast before I ate my food. Poni and I took a trip to the local Ganesh temple a day or two before and I think that's where I got my inspiration. I've thus far appreciated the immensity of the payer vibes in the temples here, but now I've started to participate. It feels amazing to actually believe something. To feel a connection. To relax and enjoy. To find a piece of God...yes, GOD...in my heart.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Two Weeks Left in Mysore City
Ness Sherry, a lady I have become good pals with here in "Ashtronga" Ashtanga City, is a brilliant photographer from London. She has some amazing photos on her blog, including ones of me and other Mysore yoga junkies doing some yogic maneuvering. I am in the top few photos, save for the second one down, in my little sitting room in my the apt I share with Poni, who has started an India blog as well, very worth checking out.
Poni and I have been very busy the past few days. We have started preparing to leave Mysore (gasp!), buying presents and such, wondering what to do with the insane amount of stuff I have collected over the past four months, and recovering with flying colors from the getting-to-know you disease our bowels suffered together by going into a mad feeding frenzy. Cooking classes have helped support the feed. We now know how to make idlis, both traditional and rava(instant), three kinds of chutney, sambar (curry), keseri bath, carrot halva (these last two are soft pudding-like sweet dishes) five kinds of dosas, and proper masala chai. The woman we have been taking classes from is amazing and animated, as are the two crotchety but gorgeous ladies she has helping her out, and the food is phenomenal. Though Poni and I might end up rolling home on our enormous dosa bellies despite all the yoga.
The new moon came around again as it always does. There has been some menstruating (yesssss!!!) and some "emotional complexity". There was some dancing at Planet X to celebrate having met Ness, who is leaving tomorrow. There was some lounging all day at a crazy hotel that looks like a palace where we and the rest of "Team Iyengar" played in the empty pool all day while monkeys and weird birds frolicked nearby. There have been more coconuts and sunburns and trips all over Mysore on the scoot. There has been Valentining and gifting and romance. There has been yoga, of course, and the emergence of superpowers (ask Poni about seeing auras!). There has been heat. Showers are becoming less about hygiene and more about sweet relief.
I am ready to leave Mysore, ready to go to the beach. Kerala is our first destination at this point. Travel plans are all up in the air. All I know is I miss the ocean, being the water bird that I am, and I am dying for a fish Thali. On the other hand, I will My-sorely miss my friends here, my apt., this city I have grown to know so well, and...my beloved Guruji. I will come back to him. I know I will. Never have I felt so thoroughly understood and benefited by a teacher. I will carry on doing my practice in the best way that I can, always with him in mind, and always with the intention to come back and learn more from him. Not only will I miss his classes, but also his humor, his smile, his presence, and his fashion sense (stay tuned for a line of "Guruji Fashion" items)!!!
Poni and I have been very busy the past few days. We have started preparing to leave Mysore (gasp!), buying presents and such, wondering what to do with the insane amount of stuff I have collected over the past four months, and recovering with flying colors from the getting-to-know you disease our bowels suffered together by going into a mad feeding frenzy. Cooking classes have helped support the feed. We now know how to make idlis, both traditional and rava(instant), three kinds of chutney, sambar (curry), keseri bath, carrot halva (these last two are soft pudding-like sweet dishes) five kinds of dosas, and proper masala chai. The woman we have been taking classes from is amazing and animated, as are the two crotchety but gorgeous ladies she has helping her out, and the food is phenomenal. Though Poni and I might end up rolling home on our enormous dosa bellies despite all the yoga.
The new moon came around again as it always does. There has been some menstruating (yesssss!!!) and some "emotional complexity". There was some dancing at Planet X to celebrate having met Ness, who is leaving tomorrow. There was some lounging all day at a crazy hotel that looks like a palace where we and the rest of "Team Iyengar" played in the empty pool all day while monkeys and weird birds frolicked nearby. There have been more coconuts and sunburns and trips all over Mysore on the scoot. There has been Valentining and gifting and romance. There has been yoga, of course, and the emergence of superpowers (ask Poni about seeing auras!). There has been heat. Showers are becoming less about hygiene and more about sweet relief.
I am ready to leave Mysore, ready to go to the beach. Kerala is our first destination at this point. Travel plans are all up in the air. All I know is I miss the ocean, being the water bird that I am, and I am dying for a fish Thali. On the other hand, I will My-sorely miss my friends here, my apt., this city I have grown to know so well, and...my beloved Guruji. I will come back to him. I know I will. Never have I felt so thoroughly understood and benefited by a teacher. I will carry on doing my practice in the best way that I can, always with him in mind, and always with the intention to come back and learn more from him. Not only will I miss his classes, but also his humor, his smile, his presence, and his fashion sense (stay tuned for a line of "Guruji Fashion" items)!!!
Sunday, February 7, 2010
"Well...I hope I don't s**t my pants!"
Poni and I have been getting to know each other really, REALLY well. After five days of "loose movement" we finally took a trip to the doctor's office for meds to save us from the seemingly worsening case of the runs we had both contracted via Mahesh Prasad or Shiva Prasad or some other prasad where the seedy men in the kitchen don't ever wash their hands, I'd bet. this is the fourth? fifth? time I've contracted some super annoying illness from this godforsaken land of filth where everything is literally covered in poo. We ran out of t.p. after a couple of days, and while I have gotten quite used to, and fond of, the faucet-and-hand cleanse method, Poni started having dreams of toilet paper, so we made a point to stock up. we have been laughing as much as we can about it, though. Poni is a perfect roommate and partner specimen. We take turns doing the dishes or the laundry, reminding each other to take our tablets, making tea for each other, driving the scooter.
We have spent several days at the pool since his arrival, and every time I spend any time in the sun, it laughingly points out whatever minuscule piece of skin I've left un-screened. The bikini Poni gave me features a little skull and crossbones charm that dangles over my belly...and now i have a tiny skull and crossbones patterned seared in to my skin. I have never been so freakin' tan in my life.
India has made me a bubble person. I haven't let anyone close to me in four months, and not necessarily because i don't want anyone to touch me...it's just not what people do here. It has taken a bit time for me to get used to having any human contact whatsoever, let alone a full-time mate. But I am happily getting acclimated, and Poni is sensitive to my bubble moods, allowing me plenty of space when I seem to need it.
Nearly two weeks have flow by since his arrival, and we are already thinking seriously about buying train tickets and mapping out our travel route. I am excited to get out of Mysore. Though I really love it here, I am itching to see more of India. Especially the beach.
We have spent several days at the pool since his arrival, and every time I spend any time in the sun, it laughingly points out whatever minuscule piece of skin I've left un-screened. The bikini Poni gave me features a little skull and crossbones charm that dangles over my belly...and now i have a tiny skull and crossbones patterned seared in to my skin. I have never been so freakin' tan in my life.
India has made me a bubble person. I haven't let anyone close to me in four months, and not necessarily because i don't want anyone to touch me...it's just not what people do here. It has taken a bit time for me to get used to having any human contact whatsoever, let alone a full-time mate. But I am happily getting acclimated, and Poni is sensitive to my bubble moods, allowing me plenty of space when I seem to need it.
Nearly two weeks have flow by since his arrival, and we are already thinking seriously about buying train tickets and mapping out our travel route. I am excited to get out of Mysore. Though I really love it here, I am itching to see more of India. Especially the beach.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)