Eva and I are at the end of our travel time in India together. By the evening of the 31st she’ll be on a train bound for Kathmandu. I’m gonna go to Delhi, hang out for a bit before going back to Dharamsala.
We came to Varanasi by train from Amritsar. It was a grueling 24 hour train ride in Sleeper Class, the 2nd lowest class to travel in. It would’ve have been easier if we were in the women’s coach, like we requested, and if it wasn’t so hot and humid the entire way to Varanasi. At times it felt like the train ride from hell. I started developing a heat/skin/diaper rash because I was sweating so much and the sleeper surface was sticking to me. We had bought fruit for the ride, but it wasn’t enough. I ended up feeling so sick on the ride. The train food is all deep fried foods like samosas (potatos wrapped in dough deep fried), potato pakoras (potatos battered in flour and deep fried), and veg cutlets (mashed potato patties breaded and deep fried), The samosas were pretty good, but I could only take that for one meal. So I made it into a fasting train ride. By the time we reached Varanasi, we were completely beat. Thankfully we arrived when it was still light outside, and after a 30 minute heavily polluted, rollercoaster-esque rickshaw ride through the city, we came to our guesthouse.
Varanasi is one of the holiest Hindu places in all of India. It’s bordered by two rivers, Varuna and Assi, which meet in the Ganges. Hindus from all over India and the world come to Varanasi to worship, practice and die. Every night, sons from the brahmin’s caste perform a fire offering to Shiva. And every time hundreds of people gather near the river for the two-hour ritual of fire and incense, music, conch shell blowing, clapping, singing and praying. Despite how polluted and filthy the water is, it’s considered very auspicious to bathe in the Ganges. It’s believed that if a Hindu is cremated in Varanasi and their ashes put in the Ganges, they will return back to the five elements (fire, water, air, earth and ether), and will be able to escape the cycle of rebirth. Many people come to Varanasi near the end of their life just to wait to die. One section of the riverbank is the designated crematory and the fire has been burning for 1000 years. Bodies just keep coming and coming. It takes a lot of wood to completely burn a body, and usually people don’t have enough money to buy that much wood plus pay for all of the funeral dressings, so many bodies are only partially burned and what’s left is put into the river.
There are two areas where they cremate bodies. A couple of times while I walking, men carrying a corpse to the burning ghat passed by. That kind of thing is normal here. And for some reason I wasn’t really shocked when I saw it. Around the burning ghat are several fires and a line of bodies waiting for cremation. The smoke is really thick and ashes fill the air. There are also huge piles of wood all around the ghat. Women aren’t allowed near the burning bodies so the burning ghat is almost all men in white robes and many of them have shaved heads.
Yet despite all of the piety and holiness that exists in Varanasi, there are also so many strange contradictions about this place and the people here. The cow is supposed to be extremely holy. They take so much from the cow except eat it. Varanasi is full of cows all over the city, in the streets, in the alleys – everywhere. But they let them just eat trash. I don’t know if a trash dump exists, because trash is everywhere, all over the streets and in the alleys. And the cows eat from it, including the plastic bags that are in the piles. Then many of them choke or become sick and some of those die.
There are also stray dogs everywhere. Most of them have terrible diseases. They, like the cows, eat from the trash piles in the cow-shit covered alleys. The other day I saw a dog lying on the side of the alley, barely any hair left on its body, ribs showing, struggling to breathe and later I walked by again and it wasn’t breathing anymore. I’ve never seen a dying or dead dog before. The local kids play mean tricks on some of the dogs. Eva saw two dogs with their butts or balls glued together. They were crying in pain because they couldn’t separate. The kids who did it were standing nearby laughing. When the dogs finally split apart their butts were red and bloody.
Between me, Eva and Diklar, a really cool Israeli girl we met, we’ve been harassed disgustingly harassed by stupid, sexually-frustrated, ugly, annoying, repulsive Indian men. It’s a huge problem in India. In Dharamsala the harassment was verbal, and now that I’ve come to cities, it’s physical. The first time it happened was in Amritsar when this kid selling postcards shoved them in my face and then grabbed my boob. And then tonight some old man came by and grabbed my butt. It’s so disgusting. Out of reflex I turned around and hit him but he just walked off. It happens to so many female travelers I’ve met. And even to the local Indian women. And many of these men are really pathetic creeps. You can see it in their faces. I try to invoke the compassionate Buddhist in me, but really I just want to punch them all.
I started to feel really homesick being in Varanasi. The combination of all of this intensity – the filth, the sick-debilitated-starved animals, the seediness, the religious zeal, the flies, the tourist touts, the humidity and heat, and my lack of direction, leads me to feel like I want to be home.
So it’s time to move on. I’m leaving Varanasi and going to Delhi. And from there, who knows.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
The Border Show
This is by far the most humid and hot place I’ve been in my entire life. I’ve experienced humid before, but never like this. Even at night it’s so hot. I’m still sweating just lying in my bed underneath the fan. Last night me and Eva felt like we were going to go crazy. I’m even sweating while I bathe. Did I mention how hot it is?
Besides the Golden Temple, the other thing that Amritsar offers is the chance to go see a ridiculously nationalistic ceremony at the Pakistan-Indian border. Attari is the town right before the border and only 26 km from the Golden Temple. We caught a shared taxis to Attari and walked to the border where literally hundreds of Indians come everyday to see the Indian Border Security Police perform the lowering of the flags alongside the Pakistani Border Security Police. The area is packed with vendors trying to sell everything from popcorn, to postcards to DVDs of the ceremony. Every two seconds another guy was in our faces, “Postcard, ok! Indian popcorn?! Only 10 rupees a bag!” There was stadium seating on either side of the border, with each country’s gates and flag in the center. On the Pakistani side, men wore long white tunics and pants typical of Muslim countries, and the women wore bourkas. On the Indian side, men were out of their seats dancing Bollywood style, and women were seated in their sarees and Punjabi suits. It’s hard to believe they used to be united as one country. Before the ceremony began, both sides shouted nationalistic chants back and forth to each other. Then the border police, in their full-fledged uniforms marched one by one, lifting their knees as high as their chests and swinging their arms back and forth, to the border gates they met with an equal number of Pakistani guards and shook hands before lowering their respective flags. The actual ceremony is very formal, but it’s hilarious to see locals go all out in party mode for the event. A huge group of Indian men formed, dancing and throwing water in the air like it was champagne at New Year’s. There were other Indian men running around with the flag. One of them tripped and bit it really hard in front of everyone. Nationalism is a funny thing. The ceremony ended sort of anticlimactically. After the guards took down the flag, people just stopped shouting and dancing, and turned around to walk back to their cars.
That was the end of that, and we headed back to Amritsar.
Besides the Golden Temple, the other thing that Amritsar offers is the chance to go see a ridiculously nationalistic ceremony at the Pakistan-Indian border. Attari is the town right before the border and only 26 km from the Golden Temple. We caught a shared taxis to Attari and walked to the border where literally hundreds of Indians come everyday to see the Indian Border Security Police perform the lowering of the flags alongside the Pakistani Border Security Police. The area is packed with vendors trying to sell everything from popcorn, to postcards to DVDs of the ceremony. Every two seconds another guy was in our faces, “Postcard, ok! Indian popcorn?! Only 10 rupees a bag!” There was stadium seating on either side of the border, with each country’s gates and flag in the center. On the Pakistani side, men wore long white tunics and pants typical of Muslim countries, and the women wore bourkas. On the Indian side, men were out of their seats dancing Bollywood style, and women were seated in their sarees and Punjabi suits. It’s hard to believe they used to be united as one country. Before the ceremony began, both sides shouted nationalistic chants back and forth to each other. Then the border police, in their full-fledged uniforms marched one by one, lifting their knees as high as their chests and swinging their arms back and forth, to the border gates they met with an equal number of Pakistani guards and shook hands before lowering their respective flags. The actual ceremony is very formal, but it’s hilarious to see locals go all out in party mode for the event. A huge group of Indian men formed, dancing and throwing water in the air like it was champagne at New Year’s. There were other Indian men running around with the flag. One of them tripped and bit it really hard in front of everyone. Nationalism is a funny thing. The ceremony ended sort of anticlimactically. After the guards took down the flag, people just stopped shouting and dancing, and turned around to walk back to their cars.
That was the end of that, and we headed back to Amritsar.
Constipation and Gold
Poor Eva is so constipated. That’s the horrific side effect of taking buses and being at the mercy of there only being fried foods around. I love Indian food, but I miss fresh salads and steamed vegetables. It’s been several days now and she hasn’t been able to bm. Even my initial bm after the bus ride was more like goat poo – in hard round little balls. It’s hell. Our bowel systems are constantly going between the two extremes.
Amritsar is the center of the Sikh religion and home of the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple is simple amazing. Eva has seen the Taj Mahal and says this place far nicer. Although everywhere we go, we get hassled to buy tourist gifts and postcards, the atmosphere in the temple is relaxed and chill. Outside the temple is a crazy, bustling chaotic Indian city. All this time I had been in Tibetan communities and felt more like I was in Tibet than in India. And not so surprisingly Indian cities are almost identical to Vietnamese cities. We checked out of the hotel and went to the Golden Temple dorms, where they allow foreigners to stay by donation up to three nights. Sikhs are known for their genuine sense of community and generosity. And so far, I’ve experienced just that. The dorm is simple and basic. The beds are wooden with mats on them. I’m not sure when the last time the sheets were washed, but that’s okay. There are around 25 beds in this dorm, some in private rooms. Eva and I came early that day so we got a private room with three beds in it. A Sikh man stands guard right outside the dorm entrance holding a spear. The toilets are in an adjacent building. It’s a public toilet for the entire dorm complex so hundreds of people share it, but it’s relatively clean. Sikhs are very communal so there are volunteers who keep it clean for everyone. The rest of the dorm complex is for Indians pilgrims and locals. There is a public shower in the center courtyard of the dorm complex where people bathe and wash their cloths. At night, Indian people who aren’t staying inside a dorm, lie their sheets on the ground around the courtyard and sleep there.
The entire Golden Temple complex is huge. It takes about 30 – 45 minutes to walk around the entire thing. The temple is made entirely of white marble. The walkways and walls are inlaid with colored marble and stone designs reminiscent of a Mughal aesthetic. The actual temple itself is the center building within the entire complex and is gilded in real solid gold. Around the temple is a large pool of water borderd by tropical plants and other green flora. It shines during the day and sparkles at night. Sikhs come to bathe in the ‘pool of nectar’ as part of their practice and religious pilgrimage at the temple. Before entering, people have to remove their shoes and wash their feet. Many Sikhs prostrate themselves at the temple entrance. Groups Sikh musicians take turns singing and playing instruments so that all day, from 4am to 9 or 10pm, music can always be heard. On one side of the temple, there’s a dining hall where anyone, even non-Sikhs like myself, can eat for free. The food is simple, but it’s generously given. All day people come to eat together. It’s a whole organized system of Sikh volunteers that hand out plates and spoons as you walk in, seat you on the ground in rows, distribute rice, dal (lentils), chapatti and water from large tin serving buckets. Then once you’re done eating leave the dining hall to the wash area, throw your dirty spoon into bucket and hand your dirty plate to the man at the beginning of an assembly line of men, where its passed down and eventually ends up in another assembly line of dishwashers. It’s amazing!
I don’t know a lot about the Sikh religion, but just that it’s relatively new religion that started in the 16th century. The men don’t cut their hair which they wear in turbans, and keep beards as a sign of saintliness. They believe in karma and reincarnation, but don’t believe there’s a way to escape cyclic rebirth. They don’t worship a god, but revere 10 gurus. They don’t use any tobacco, alcohol, drugs or narcotics. And they are vegetarian, hence all of the yummy vegetarian Punjabi/North Indian style food we have in the States.
At night the temple is busiest because the humidity and heat are somewhat more bearable then. Many people come to circumambulate the temple, or sit poolside and listen to the singing. The other night Eva and I sat alongside the walkway just enjoying the atmosphere of the evening. All of these local Indian people joined us, curious about why we were in Amritsar and what we thought of their city. It was so nice to chat with them. There was 13-year-old girl who didn’t want to leave us despite her parents urging her to come with them. She just sat by us staring at our faces and called us her sisters. She was a sweetheart.
Amritsar is the center of the Sikh religion and home of the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple is simple amazing. Eva has seen the Taj Mahal and says this place far nicer. Although everywhere we go, we get hassled to buy tourist gifts and postcards, the atmosphere in the temple is relaxed and chill. Outside the temple is a crazy, bustling chaotic Indian city. All this time I had been in Tibetan communities and felt more like I was in Tibet than in India. And not so surprisingly Indian cities are almost identical to Vietnamese cities. We checked out of the hotel and went to the Golden Temple dorms, where they allow foreigners to stay by donation up to three nights. Sikhs are known for their genuine sense of community and generosity. And so far, I’ve experienced just that. The dorm is simple and basic. The beds are wooden with mats on them. I’m not sure when the last time the sheets were washed, but that’s okay. There are around 25 beds in this dorm, some in private rooms. Eva and I came early that day so we got a private room with three beds in it. A Sikh man stands guard right outside the dorm entrance holding a spear. The toilets are in an adjacent building. It’s a public toilet for the entire dorm complex so hundreds of people share it, but it’s relatively clean. Sikhs are very communal so there are volunteers who keep it clean for everyone. The rest of the dorm complex is for Indians pilgrims and locals. There is a public shower in the center courtyard of the dorm complex where people bathe and wash their cloths. At night, Indian people who aren’t staying inside a dorm, lie their sheets on the ground around the courtyard and sleep there.
The entire Golden Temple complex is huge. It takes about 30 – 45 minutes to walk around the entire thing. The temple is made entirely of white marble. The walkways and walls are inlaid with colored marble and stone designs reminiscent of a Mughal aesthetic. The actual temple itself is the center building within the entire complex and is gilded in real solid gold. Around the temple is a large pool of water borderd by tropical plants and other green flora. It shines during the day and sparkles at night. Sikhs come to bathe in the ‘pool of nectar’ as part of their practice and religious pilgrimage at the temple. Before entering, people have to remove their shoes and wash their feet. Many Sikhs prostrate themselves at the temple entrance. Groups Sikh musicians take turns singing and playing instruments so that all day, from 4am to 9 or 10pm, music can always be heard. On one side of the temple, there’s a dining hall where anyone, even non-Sikhs like myself, can eat for free. The food is simple, but it’s generously given. All day people come to eat together. It’s a whole organized system of Sikh volunteers that hand out plates and spoons as you walk in, seat you on the ground in rows, distribute rice, dal (lentils), chapatti and water from large tin serving buckets. Then once you’re done eating leave the dining hall to the wash area, throw your dirty spoon into bucket and hand your dirty plate to the man at the beginning of an assembly line of men, where its passed down and eventually ends up in another assembly line of dishwashers. It’s amazing!
I don’t know a lot about the Sikh religion, but just that it’s relatively new religion that started in the 16th century. The men don’t cut their hair which they wear in turbans, and keep beards as a sign of saintliness. They believe in karma and reincarnation, but don’t believe there’s a way to escape cyclic rebirth. They don’t worship a god, but revere 10 gurus. They don’t use any tobacco, alcohol, drugs or narcotics. And they are vegetarian, hence all of the yummy vegetarian Punjabi/North Indian style food we have in the States.
At night the temple is busiest because the humidity and heat are somewhat more bearable then. Many people come to circumambulate the temple, or sit poolside and listen to the singing. The other night Eva and I sat alongside the walkway just enjoying the atmosphere of the evening. All of these local Indian people joined us, curious about why we were in Amritsar and what we thought of their city. It was so nice to chat with them. There was 13-year-old girl who didn’t want to leave us despite her parents urging her to come with them. She just sat by us staring at our faces and called us her sisters. She was a sweetheart.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Marathon Traveling - Leh to Amritsar
It was time to move on from Leh so Eva and I booked seats in a bus back to Manali and said goodbye to Leh’s and its beautiful, non-monsoon sunny weather. The ride back to Manali wasn’t has bumpy as the ride up. This minibus had better suspension and cushy seats. But Ladakh’s winter comes on quickly and without a lot of warning, so it was freezing driving down, and neither Eva or I were prepared for how bitterly cold it would be. The first 6 hours of the ride I couldn’t feel my feet or hands. I tried to sleep sitting on my feet and my hands in between my legs, but I couldn’t get comfortable. It must have been about 35 degrees and windy outside. When I tried to go pee, it was like my organs couldn’t function properly and were frozen solid. When we finally made a rest stop at a campsite, I bought yak wool socks and the driver gave me the extra blanket he was using as a seat cushion. It was about half way through the trip at the 8 hour that we realized our driver, a really nice Nepalese man, hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours. All of us freaked out because we caught him nodding off. It may have not been so scary if this were a regular road, but the road was unpaved and curvy and on the side of a mountain. The other people in the bus were really nice so a couple of the guys took turns sitting in front watching the driver and making conversation with him to keep him awake. A few hours later, since we were descending we hit the monsoon. It’d only been a little over a week since we were there, but I had already forgotten that the rest of India was still in monsoon. The road was barely visible because the fog was so thick. Not only that, it starting raining. I turned back Eva and all she could say was, ‘Welcome to Hell’. It was just what we needed: a sleepy driver, zero visibility, and treacherous road conditions. Ha! It couldn’t get any worse. Fortunately it didn’t. We made it to Manali, finally, 17 hours later, in one piece.
Eva and I were headed to Amritsar, the center of the Sikh religion, and the home of the world famous Golden Temple. The very next day after the 17-hour ride from Leh, we woke up at 5am and caught the 13-hour local bus to Pathankot and then the 3-hour train from Pathankot to Amritsar. It was first long distance ride on a local bus. From what Eva said, it was a good trip. She said she’s experienced worse. But to me local bus ride was so physically strenuous. The driver doesn’t stop for anyone, except himself when he needs to take a piss. He stopped once, and I ran out to go to the toilet, and came right out, when I saw the bus already moving. I ran after it and jumped on, and Eva said he didn’t care and wouldn’t wait even though she pleaded with him. She told me that once she was on a trip when an Indian man stepped out to buy water and some cigarettes, and the bus left him, with all of his stuff sitting on his seat. His friend told the driver to wait, but they just left him. So after that, I didn’t drink any water, and it’s a good thing I didn’t because I wouldn’t have been able to use the toilet if I needed to. The bus was packed full of people. You wouldn’t believe how many human beings can fit on a bus. I don’t think there was any space, what so ever, on any part of the bus not occupied by someone or someone’s belongings. We were back down from the hills and mountains, so the weather was hot and humid. We kept the window open as long was we could, but the guy sitting in front of us kept vomiting and spitting the entire 13-hour ride to Pathankot. It was surprising he even made it the whole way. Every five minute he’d stick his head out to vomit, and after a while I was wondered what was still left inside that could come out.
We arrived in Pathankot just 15 minutes before the last train to Amritsar. We hadn’t planned on going straight there, but since the opportunity presented itself, we got tickets and got on board. At one point, this British guy who was had traveled with us since Leh, told me I looked, ‘shattered.’ I was pretty tired at that point. Our entire train car was filled with men. At every stop guys would come up to my window and stare, or say strange American phrases that they must have learned from movies like, ‘Hey baby’ or ‘Hello sweetheart’. And then they would ask what country I was from or what my name was. Sometimes those people are sincere, but at that point I was so tired, I just covered my face in my scarf and pretended like I was asleep or I didn’t speak English.
We got to Amritsar by 10:30pm, found a hotel and crashed for the night.
Eva and I were headed to Amritsar, the center of the Sikh religion, and the home of the world famous Golden Temple. The very next day after the 17-hour ride from Leh, we woke up at 5am and caught the 13-hour local bus to Pathankot and then the 3-hour train from Pathankot to Amritsar. It was first long distance ride on a local bus. From what Eva said, it was a good trip. She said she’s experienced worse. But to me local bus ride was so physically strenuous. The driver doesn’t stop for anyone, except himself when he needs to take a piss. He stopped once, and I ran out to go to the toilet, and came right out, when I saw the bus already moving. I ran after it and jumped on, and Eva said he didn’t care and wouldn’t wait even though she pleaded with him. She told me that once she was on a trip when an Indian man stepped out to buy water and some cigarettes, and the bus left him, with all of his stuff sitting on his seat. His friend told the driver to wait, but they just left him. So after that, I didn’t drink any water, and it’s a good thing I didn’t because I wouldn’t have been able to use the toilet if I needed to. The bus was packed full of people. You wouldn’t believe how many human beings can fit on a bus. I don’t think there was any space, what so ever, on any part of the bus not occupied by someone or someone’s belongings. We were back down from the hills and mountains, so the weather was hot and humid. We kept the window open as long was we could, but the guy sitting in front of us kept vomiting and spitting the entire 13-hour ride to Pathankot. It was surprising he even made it the whole way. Every five minute he’d stick his head out to vomit, and after a while I was wondered what was still left inside that could come out.
We arrived in Pathankot just 15 minutes before the last train to Amritsar. We hadn’t planned on going straight there, but since the opportunity presented itself, we got tickets and got on board. At one point, this British guy who was had traveled with us since Leh, told me I looked, ‘shattered.’ I was pretty tired at that point. Our entire train car was filled with men. At every stop guys would come up to my window and stare, or say strange American phrases that they must have learned from movies like, ‘Hey baby’ or ‘Hello sweetheart’. And then they would ask what country I was from or what my name was. Sometimes those people are sincere, but at that point I was so tired, I just covered my face in my scarf and pretended like I was asleep or I didn’t speak English.
We got to Amritsar by 10:30pm, found a hotel and crashed for the night.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Me, Myself and I
I just came back from a 3-day vippasana meditation retreat. It was my first time doing anything like this. On Sunday I hopped on a local bus to a small village outside of Leh called Choglamsar. The Mahabodhi International Meditation Center is located in the middle of nowhere in a dry, barren deserted mountainous landscape. It’s a huge center, but everything is spread out with lots of empty land in between each building. The meditation building had a handful of private rooms, and one large dorm room full of beds. All the rooms faced a sweet garden of sunflowers and apple trees. There were about 25 people of all ages at the retreat. There were a lot of couples and a handful of single participants like myself. It was a silent retreat, meaning no speaking to each other at all for three days, no eye contact, no writing and no reading. This is meant to support practicing mindfulness at all times.
Our day started at 5am. We did a 45-minute gyro kinesis session (self massage) to wake up our muscles, and then we sat in meditation for another 45 minutes followed by breakfast. Then from 8am until 12 we alternated in 45-minute sessions of sitting mediation and walking mediation. I never did walking meditation. I figured it was little like walking normally. But the kind we practiced was walking about 10 steps very, very slowly and mindfully concentrating on all the movement in the body, especially the feet. At 12 we had lunch and a short break. Most people napped. But because I’m so used to being more active, I left the meditation complex and went frolicking and running around in the surrounding flat land. It felt like being in the Sahara, except it’s not sand but dust and gravel everywhere. At 1:30 we started again with an hour-long sitting meditation session, followed by an hour and half of yoga. Afterwards we alternated again between sitting and walking meditation until dinner. After dinner there was a hour long dharma talk, and we ended the day with another hour of sitting meditation. I was in bed and ready for sleep by 9:30p.
I’ve always wanted to try a meditation retreat. There are many 10-day courses around India, but 10 days is intense so when I heard about this 3-day course, I decided it was a good opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up. When I first arrived, I was so excited and thought, ‘Three days seems so short. I wish this were longer.’ And by mid-day on the first full day, I thought I might go crazy, or escape and try to catch the next bus to Leh. Although the complete silence was strange at times, I didn’t mind it too much. It was sitting for so long, all day, and just walking back and forth in the same space, all day, that my mind couldn’t be happy with. I found myself thinking about the most random things during meditation, and memories, or ideas would arise out of nowhere, without context or reason. I realize how untamed, anxious and restless my mind is. It was frustrating because I couldn’t turn it off when I wanted to.
The dharma talk we had after dinner each night was just an informal lecture about different dharma topics. The first night the instructors talked about the five hindrances to meditation practice and the second night was about 4 types of mindfulness. This was my favorite part. One of the instructors had a Conan O’Brien humorous charm that made his lectures really entertaining.
I stayed in the large dorm room. There was a large sheet draped across the middle of the room that divided it into separate men and women’s sides. The beds reminded me of the kind of beds that are in orphanages with creeky steel frames and thin hard mattresses. But I like it because it was cozy in its simplicity. The bathroom was in a nearby building. That too was very simple. A few squat toilet stalls, and cold water spickets for showers. It wasn’t the cleanest bathroom, but at least it wasn’t that smelly.
At meals it was so strange not to say anything to anyone, not even thank-you to the kitchen staff. There were many tables in the dining hall, but we all sat separately. I felt so lonely and dark. Everyone was so concentrated on eating mindfully and slowly. Sometimes it felt so serious. I realized that I’m so frequently outward dependant on my emotional state of mind. Seeing everyone so serious, at first, made me feel depressed and lonely. I guess I take things very personally, even when it has nothing to do with me. Or when the instructor made a joke during the talks, I looked around to see if other people also appreciated his humor because that makes me enjoy it more too. I don’t think this is neither good nor bad, but just something I observed about myself.
The best part of the day was the sunset. Right after dinner and before the talks, everyone would go onto the roof and just watch the sun retire into the horizon. The sunsets here are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life. The sky is so pure blue, and the way the rays stream through the clouds, it creates the most amazing, vivid displays of light.
By the third day I was so happy for the retreat to end. It was a powerful experience and one I’d like to do again, but I was ready to return to the chaos of life.
Our day started at 5am. We did a 45-minute gyro kinesis session (self massage) to wake up our muscles, and then we sat in meditation for another 45 minutes followed by breakfast. Then from 8am until 12 we alternated in 45-minute sessions of sitting mediation and walking mediation. I never did walking meditation. I figured it was little like walking normally. But the kind we practiced was walking about 10 steps very, very slowly and mindfully concentrating on all the movement in the body, especially the feet. At 12 we had lunch and a short break. Most people napped. But because I’m so used to being more active, I left the meditation complex and went frolicking and running around in the surrounding flat land. It felt like being in the Sahara, except it’s not sand but dust and gravel everywhere. At 1:30 we started again with an hour-long sitting meditation session, followed by an hour and half of yoga. Afterwards we alternated again between sitting and walking meditation until dinner. After dinner there was a hour long dharma talk, and we ended the day with another hour of sitting meditation. I was in bed and ready for sleep by 9:30p.
I’ve always wanted to try a meditation retreat. There are many 10-day courses around India, but 10 days is intense so when I heard about this 3-day course, I decided it was a good opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up. When I first arrived, I was so excited and thought, ‘Three days seems so short. I wish this were longer.’ And by mid-day on the first full day, I thought I might go crazy, or escape and try to catch the next bus to Leh. Although the complete silence was strange at times, I didn’t mind it too much. It was sitting for so long, all day, and just walking back and forth in the same space, all day, that my mind couldn’t be happy with. I found myself thinking about the most random things during meditation, and memories, or ideas would arise out of nowhere, without context or reason. I realize how untamed, anxious and restless my mind is. It was frustrating because I couldn’t turn it off when I wanted to.
The dharma talk we had after dinner each night was just an informal lecture about different dharma topics. The first night the instructors talked about the five hindrances to meditation practice and the second night was about 4 types of mindfulness. This was my favorite part. One of the instructors had a Conan O’Brien humorous charm that made his lectures really entertaining.
I stayed in the large dorm room. There was a large sheet draped across the middle of the room that divided it into separate men and women’s sides. The beds reminded me of the kind of beds that are in orphanages with creeky steel frames and thin hard mattresses. But I like it because it was cozy in its simplicity. The bathroom was in a nearby building. That too was very simple. A few squat toilet stalls, and cold water spickets for showers. It wasn’t the cleanest bathroom, but at least it wasn’t that smelly.
At meals it was so strange not to say anything to anyone, not even thank-you to the kitchen staff. There were many tables in the dining hall, but we all sat separately. I felt so lonely and dark. Everyone was so concentrated on eating mindfully and slowly. Sometimes it felt so serious. I realized that I’m so frequently outward dependant on my emotional state of mind. Seeing everyone so serious, at first, made me feel depressed and lonely. I guess I take things very personally, even when it has nothing to do with me. Or when the instructor made a joke during the talks, I looked around to see if other people also appreciated his humor because that makes me enjoy it more too. I don’t think this is neither good nor bad, but just something I observed about myself.
The best part of the day was the sunset. Right after dinner and before the talks, everyone would go onto the roof and just watch the sun retire into the horizon. The sunsets here are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life. The sky is so pure blue, and the way the rays stream through the clouds, it creates the most amazing, vivid displays of light.
By the third day I was so happy for the retreat to end. It was a powerful experience and one I’d like to do again, but I was ready to return to the chaos of life.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
I'm in the Himalayas!
The road to Leh is like the road to hell despite that it’s breathtakingly gorgeous. The travel conditions are terrible. The trip from Manali to Leh is usually done in 2 days, with an overnight camp or hotel stay in a small village along the way. We did it straight in 21 hours.
Twenty-one grueling hours of mostly unpaved, rocky mountain passes. The suspension on the minibus was virtually non-existent. And since there aren’t seat belts there were a lot of times when it was so bumpy I flew out of my seat and hit the roof of the car. The good thing is that the driver stopped when we had to pee, and we had a couple of opportunities to eat at roadside dhabas.
Poor Eva got extremely sick. She has a low blood pressure problem in general and is prone to fainting. She fainted and vomited so many times on the bus. The longer we were on the bus, the paler and paler she became. It got to the point where literally her face looked green and corpse-like. We all offered to switch seats with her, but she wouldn’t. She doesn’t like to burden other people so she stayed seat. She even took one of my Dramamine pills, but it didn’t help. Later we realized it wasn’t carsickness as much as it was altitude sickness.
Sitting in the very front also had its ‘perks’. Since the road is unpaved, other trucks or cars that passed us created huge dust and exhaust clouds that came into the car, even through the air vents. I blew my nose at one point and everything that came out was black. My face and all of my clothes were covered in dust and my hair was one step away from being dreadlocks. I was so exhausted. All I wanted was to sleep, even a little, but I couldn’t because the car ride was so bumpy the moment I put my head back it would slam back and forth against the headrest. It was like some medieval torture technique. Amazingly, the girl right behind me slept sitting straight up. We were meant to arrive in Leh by 5 or 6pm but the roads are at mercy to the elements and several of the bridges were barely there. There was one bridge that only the frame was left. All of us had to get out of the bus and walk across the narrow beams so the bus could be lighter when it crossed. I shot some video of that.
The climate in this part of India is extreme. In the day it gets up to 90+ degrees, and at night it can be as cold as 30 or 40 degrees. There were times I was scared the bus was going to get a flat tire or that it wouldn’t be able to handle the steep passes. . The road to Leh gets as high as 18,000 feet. And as the bus climbed higher and higher, I could feel the air get thinner and thinner to the point where it became really hard to breathe. By the middle of the trip everyone looked worn out.
In spite of all of these intense road conditions, the trip is equally as rewarding. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’m in the Himalayas!’ Never in my life did I think I could or would come to see the Himalayas. It was a shitty drive for sure, but when I woke up at 6:30am in the car with my head bumping against the seat, I woke up to an utterly amazing view of towering mountains lined with beautiful mountain streams, and dotted with wild flowers and plants, And the views only got more and more beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so vast or bare, or untouched. Just looking at it I could begin to sense the depth of age and history that belong to this mountain range. There are parts of it that remind me of the mountains in Utah on a much larger scale.
It’s amazing how far Leh is from the rest of India. There’s not much civilization in that part. We passed three villages, and by village, I mean a small roadside camp of tents that sell the basics like instant noodles, bottled water, and tea. It’s amazing how these people live. They come down from Leh during their summer season (July to September) and set up these camps to sell food to tourist and trekkers. They’re true nomads. They live in the harshest conditions. It was sunset when I ate there and the sun had just fallen behind the mountain casting a huge shadow on the camp. The temperature instantly dropped. It made me wonder what these people do during their winter.
And when the sun finally left us and the sky became pitch black, I saw the sky as I’ve never seen before in my life. We happened to be on the part that’s elevated nearly 18,000 ft when we stopped for a bathroom break alongside the road. The sky was a deep midnight blue and revealing every single star living inside it. It was such a gift to see.
We finally made it to Leh a little before midnight. Eva and I found a nearby guesthouse and crashed for the night.
We had finally, and actually made it to Leh.
Twenty-one grueling hours of mostly unpaved, rocky mountain passes. The suspension on the minibus was virtually non-existent. And since there aren’t seat belts there were a lot of times when it was so bumpy I flew out of my seat and hit the roof of the car. The good thing is that the driver stopped when we had to pee, and we had a couple of opportunities to eat at roadside dhabas.
Poor Eva got extremely sick. She has a low blood pressure problem in general and is prone to fainting. She fainted and vomited so many times on the bus. The longer we were on the bus, the paler and paler she became. It got to the point where literally her face looked green and corpse-like. We all offered to switch seats with her, but she wouldn’t. She doesn’t like to burden other people so she stayed seat. She even took one of my Dramamine pills, but it didn’t help. Later we realized it wasn’t carsickness as much as it was altitude sickness.
Sitting in the very front also had its ‘perks’. Since the road is unpaved, other trucks or cars that passed us created huge dust and exhaust clouds that came into the car, even through the air vents. I blew my nose at one point and everything that came out was black. My face and all of my clothes were covered in dust and my hair was one step away from being dreadlocks. I was so exhausted. All I wanted was to sleep, even a little, but I couldn’t because the car ride was so bumpy the moment I put my head back it would slam back and forth against the headrest. It was like some medieval torture technique. Amazingly, the girl right behind me slept sitting straight up. We were meant to arrive in Leh by 5 or 6pm but the roads are at mercy to the elements and several of the bridges were barely there. There was one bridge that only the frame was left. All of us had to get out of the bus and walk across the narrow beams so the bus could be lighter when it crossed. I shot some video of that.
The climate in this part of India is extreme. In the day it gets up to 90+ degrees, and at night it can be as cold as 30 or 40 degrees. There were times I was scared the bus was going to get a flat tire or that it wouldn’t be able to handle the steep passes. . The road to Leh gets as high as 18,000 feet. And as the bus climbed higher and higher, I could feel the air get thinner and thinner to the point where it became really hard to breathe. By the middle of the trip everyone looked worn out.
In spite of all of these intense road conditions, the trip is equally as rewarding. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’m in the Himalayas!’ Never in my life did I think I could or would come to see the Himalayas. It was a shitty drive for sure, but when I woke up at 6:30am in the car with my head bumping against the seat, I woke up to an utterly amazing view of towering mountains lined with beautiful mountain streams, and dotted with wild flowers and plants, And the views only got more and more beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so vast or bare, or untouched. Just looking at it I could begin to sense the depth of age and history that belong to this mountain range. There are parts of it that remind me of the mountains in Utah on a much larger scale.
It’s amazing how far Leh is from the rest of India. There’s not much civilization in that part. We passed three villages, and by village, I mean a small roadside camp of tents that sell the basics like instant noodles, bottled water, and tea. It’s amazing how these people live. They come down from Leh during their summer season (July to September) and set up these camps to sell food to tourist and trekkers. They’re true nomads. They live in the harshest conditions. It was sunset when I ate there and the sun had just fallen behind the mountain casting a huge shadow on the camp. The temperature instantly dropped. It made me wonder what these people do during their winter.
And when the sun finally left us and the sky became pitch black, I saw the sky as I’ve never seen before in my life. We happened to be on the part that’s elevated nearly 18,000 ft when we stopped for a bathroom break alongside the road. The sky was a deep midnight blue and revealing every single star living inside it. It was such a gift to see.
We finally made it to Leh a little before midnight. Eva and I found a nearby guesthouse and crashed for the night.
We had finally, and actually made it to Leh.
Monday, August 6, 2007
On the Road Again!
The past week and half was really good. I started traveling with a Flemish girl my age from Belgium named Eva. It’s so strange how well we get along like we’ve been friends for a long time. There’s something about traveling around with someone too that cuts right through the formality of getting to know someone, and instead you start right from the heart of being good friends.
We just arrived in Vashist, a small village-town outside of Manali. We caught 8:30p bus from Dharamsala and survived a 10-hour hell-prison-like bus ride. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the road was paved or even straight, but it was rocky and windy the whole time, or if the driver didn’t wake us up 3 times throughout the night for a ‘dinner break’ and ‘tea breaks’.
But we made it! and arrived in Manali at around 6am where we caught a rickshaw from the bus stand to Vashist. Autorickshaw are tiny and it barely fit me and Eva and our stuff. Eva had to sit up front with the driver. Had I known he was a filthy creep, I wouldn’t have been so polite. It was only after he dropped us off that Eva told me he was feeling up her leg the whole time. Ugh!!! That kind of thing happens a lot in India. It’s disgusting.
It was definitely time to leave Dharamsala. I was already feeling antsy about leaving Dharamsala, but after I met Eva I had the opportunity to travel with her. She’s on her way up to Leh, the highest livable place in India. From here, it’s a two-day bus ride with an overnight stay in tents along the way. Just before I left Dharamsala I got a bad sinus cold. The weather was terribly cold and damp. My feet were always wet. Even my blankets felt damp at night because it’s so humid there. I found out that Dharamsala is the second wettest place in India. In the morning it was foggy and rainy and since it’s up in the mountains the clouds that come down trap and carry bacteria and pollution.
There were some other omens that it was time to leave too, like
1) the giant monkey that broke into my room while I was inside and stole my bananas and then hissed at me and ate them one by one in front of my door leaving the peels there, and
2) my next-door neighbor, the delusional, tactless (she had good intentions though) Vietnamese nun that started to make me feel crazy with all of her talk of demons and ghosts possessing my massage therapist and the little Indian boy who cleans the toilet trying to poison her because she has magical powers, and
3) the creepy Tibetan guys that kept following and harassing me and Eva.
These kinds of things just screamed that it was time to move on. The energy there was stagnant and foul. So our arrival in Manali, despite the creepy richshaw driver was much welcomed.
The weather up here is extreme. It’s really cold in the night and morning, and hot and sunny by the afternoon. Leh is supposed to be even more extreme. Vashist is charming little village-town situated in a mountain valley along a rocky river. The mountains are gorgeous here and remind me a lot of the Rockies except with more rich-green trees. It’s nice and quiet because most of the backpackers and tourists stay on the other side of the valley in Old Manali. There is a natural hot springs just up the road from out guest house that the locals use as a public bath and near to it a small temple for Shiva. The local Indians come and do puja (offering) ceremonies in the mornings which scent the air with perfumed incense. There are several juice bars along the main road here. It's wonderful and whole room of every fruit you can imagine and they can blend whatever you want. Me and Eva went for a walk and there are apple trees everywhere full of beautiful ripe red and green apples. Another thing that this place is lush with, is marijuana --everywhere. It's a weed and grows like one amongst all the other flora. It's just a trip to see it so casually growing in field-like proportions.
We're headed to Leh in the next couple of days. It's going to take us 2 days to reach Leh, and the road to gets to 5400m high so altitude sickness is probable. But from what I hear, the landscape in Leh is like heaven on earth. It's so high, it's above the monsoon, so the weather should be nice and sunny. There's supposed to be terrible internet and phone service there. So I might be a bit out of touch, but I'll try my best to keep in touch.
All my love,
Lien
We just arrived in Vashist, a small village-town outside of Manali. We caught 8:30p bus from Dharamsala and survived a 10-hour hell-prison-like bus ride. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the road was paved or even straight, but it was rocky and windy the whole time, or if the driver didn’t wake us up 3 times throughout the night for a ‘dinner break’ and ‘tea breaks’.
But we made it! and arrived in Manali at around 6am where we caught a rickshaw from the bus stand to Vashist. Autorickshaw are tiny and it barely fit me and Eva and our stuff. Eva had to sit up front with the driver. Had I known he was a filthy creep, I wouldn’t have been so polite. It was only after he dropped us off that Eva told me he was feeling up her leg the whole time. Ugh!!! That kind of thing happens a lot in India. It’s disgusting.
It was definitely time to leave Dharamsala. I was already feeling antsy about leaving Dharamsala, but after I met Eva I had the opportunity to travel with her. She’s on her way up to Leh, the highest livable place in India. From here, it’s a two-day bus ride with an overnight stay in tents along the way. Just before I left Dharamsala I got a bad sinus cold. The weather was terribly cold and damp. My feet were always wet. Even my blankets felt damp at night because it’s so humid there. I found out that Dharamsala is the second wettest place in India. In the morning it was foggy and rainy and since it’s up in the mountains the clouds that come down trap and carry bacteria and pollution.
There were some other omens that it was time to leave too, like
1) the giant monkey that broke into my room while I was inside and stole my bananas and then hissed at me and ate them one by one in front of my door leaving the peels there, and
2) my next-door neighbor, the delusional, tactless (she had good intentions though) Vietnamese nun that started to make me feel crazy with all of her talk of demons and ghosts possessing my massage therapist and the little Indian boy who cleans the toilet trying to poison her because she has magical powers, and
3) the creepy Tibetan guys that kept following and harassing me and Eva.
These kinds of things just screamed that it was time to move on. The energy there was stagnant and foul. So our arrival in Manali, despite the creepy richshaw driver was much welcomed.
The weather up here is extreme. It’s really cold in the night and morning, and hot and sunny by the afternoon. Leh is supposed to be even more extreme. Vashist is charming little village-town situated in a mountain valley along a rocky river. The mountains are gorgeous here and remind me a lot of the Rockies except with more rich-green trees. It’s nice and quiet because most of the backpackers and tourists stay on the other side of the valley in Old Manali. There is a natural hot springs just up the road from out guest house that the locals use as a public bath and near to it a small temple for Shiva. The local Indians come and do puja (offering) ceremonies in the mornings which scent the air with perfumed incense. There are several juice bars along the main road here. It's wonderful and whole room of every fruit you can imagine and they can blend whatever you want. Me and Eva went for a walk and there are apple trees everywhere full of beautiful ripe red and green apples. Another thing that this place is lush with, is marijuana --everywhere. It's a weed and grows like one amongst all the other flora. It's just a trip to see it so casually growing in field-like proportions.
We're headed to Leh in the next couple of days. It's going to take us 2 days to reach Leh, and the road to gets to 5400m high so altitude sickness is probable. But from what I hear, the landscape in Leh is like heaven on earth. It's so high, it's above the monsoon, so the weather should be nice and sunny. There's supposed to be terrible internet and phone service there. So I might be a bit out of touch, but I'll try my best to keep in touch.
All my love,
Lien
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