8/13/10—Mcleodganj, in Moonpeak Espresso, a little piece of Seattle
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we’ll die.”—Dave Matthews
This morning, unlike every other morning since being in India, a dark cloud overshadowed the previous glimmer of the undiscovered. Mcleodganj seemed dull, my nomadic spirit ill-conceived and ignorant. When Ty and I walked into the Seattle-esque café after trudging unsuccessfully all over town to find a new breakfast/internet spot, it was no surprise that the internet didn’t readily work and the power was out, effectively completing my disheveled, “woke up on the wrong side of the bed” kind of morning. Just as I had resigned myself to a day of emotional darkness, the metaphoric clouds broke—a luminous beam shined brightly through. The generator surged on. The room filled with artificial light, photographs on the wall reclaimed their previous gleam. It was then that I heard it: Dave Matthews crooning over the speakers. JUST the nourishment my soul needed this morning! It’s as if the universe knew I needed a little “pick-me-up” to get me through the day. “Coincidences” like these to others may be only that, coincidences. Not for me. Instead, they are my reminder, my proof, that I am following my path, that my life is intentionally pressing onward toward my destiny. My nirvana. :)
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Peace in the Himalayan Foothills
One exceedingly sweaty, nine-hour bus ride through the winding steep roads of the Himalayas later, Ty and I finally arrived and settled into our new "home" in Mcleodganj of Himachel Pradesh in northern India. Thanks to my copious amounts of Eddie Vedder, Tracy Chapman, and Dave Matthews on my Ipod, I was unphased by the lack of food, restrooms, and any semblance of safety the bus trip had to offer. Ty, on the other hand, was PISSED. After several relatively unsuccessful attempts to crack a joke about him being a "cranky pants" in hopes of lightening the mood, we disembarked from our hellish carrier into the night of Mcleodganj expecting mayhem rivaling that of Delhi. Thankfully, we anticipated wrong. Instead it was peaceful. It was chilly. It was rainy. We had found our refuge.
Since then, Ty and I have been living our most longed for fantasy: leading a writer's lifestyle. We spend our spare time--which amounts to several hours a day--simply reading, writing in journals, blogging, and essentially indulging our individual intellectualisms.The rest of our day is spent eating, drinking tea, eating, walking a bit, and more eating. Mmmmm. My desire to use India as my personal slimming spa may be out of the question... the food here is just too dang good! They even have the only certified Baskin Robbins in the entire country a mere two minute walk from our hostel, so I obviously have had to get me some o' that. (Verdict: pretty dang good, despite the haunting "100% Veg" sign posted over the ice cream.*) To add insult to injury, twice now we have taken Tibetan cooking classes so if we discover a clean, public kitchen (perhaps an anamoly here) we now have the ability to cook ourselves MORE food. (If anyone's interested, I can make you a mean meal of momos, which are tastier and healthier versions of potstickers, of Tibetan soup once I get home!)
I would be slightly worried about our caloric binging-fest if we hadn't just signed up for a 10-day long Buddhist meditation retreat in which we only eat vegetarian meals. Oh yeah, and the retreat is held in complete silence. For 10-days. Complete silence. It's either going to be torture or the most amazing, enlightening experience I have ever had. Needless to say, I can't wait!
In the meantime, I am trying to convince Ty to do a month long 200 hour yoga instructor certification course with me here--how cool would that be?
Looks like the coffee shop I'm sitting in--which is currently playing Miley Cyrus' "Party in the USA over its speakers-- is attempting to close, so that's all for now!
*By haunting, I mean that this Baskin Robbins business has even permeated my dreams. Last night I had a nightmare that I was in an ice cream shop attempting to choose the tastiest flavor, but just when I was about to order I saw it: the "100% Veg" sign. Resigning myself to eating the less-creamy cousin of my lactose-laden favorite, I looked back down at the ice cream bins and realized that they were not filled with ice cream. They were filled with morbidly obese cats. All meowing at an eardrum-piercing decibal. I'm not sure I want to know what that dream means. Perhaps my malaria pills are messing with me. Yeah, that's it.
Since then, Ty and I have been living our most longed for fantasy: leading a writer's lifestyle. We spend our spare time--which amounts to several hours a day--simply reading, writing in journals, blogging, and essentially indulging our individual intellectualisms.The rest of our day is spent eating, drinking tea, eating, walking a bit, and more eating. Mmmmm. My desire to use India as my personal slimming spa may be out of the question... the food here is just too dang good! They even have the only certified Baskin Robbins in the entire country a mere two minute walk from our hostel, so I obviously have had to get me some o' that. (Verdict: pretty dang good, despite the haunting "100% Veg" sign posted over the ice cream.*) To add insult to injury, twice now we have taken Tibetan cooking classes so if we discover a clean, public kitchen (perhaps an anamoly here) we now have the ability to cook ourselves MORE food. (If anyone's interested, I can make you a mean meal of momos, which are tastier and healthier versions of potstickers, of Tibetan soup once I get home!)
I would be slightly worried about our caloric binging-fest if we hadn't just signed up for a 10-day long Buddhist meditation retreat in which we only eat vegetarian meals. Oh yeah, and the retreat is held in complete silence. For 10-days. Complete silence. It's either going to be torture or the most amazing, enlightening experience I have ever had. Needless to say, I can't wait!
In the meantime, I am trying to convince Ty to do a month long 200 hour yoga instructor certification course with me here--how cool would that be?
Looks like the coffee shop I'm sitting in--which is currently playing Miley Cyrus' "Party in the USA over its speakers-- is attempting to close, so that's all for now!
*By haunting, I mean that this Baskin Robbins business has even permeated my dreams. Last night I had a nightmare that I was in an ice cream shop attempting to choose the tastiest flavor, but just when I was about to order I saw it: the "100% Veg" sign. Resigning myself to eating the less-creamy cousin of my lactose-laden favorite, I looked back down at the ice cream bins and realized that they were not filled with ice cream. They were filled with morbidly obese cats. All meowing at an eardrum-piercing decibal. I'm not sure I want to know what that dream means. Perhaps my malaria pills are messing with me. Yeah, that's it.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
DAY TWO: Delhi 8/4/2010
After spending much of the morning planning the next leg of our adventure, forgetting necessities for our day pack at the hostel, and just plain moving slowly, we finally started our second day in Delhi at around noon. Intending to go to Huyamin’s Tomb in South Delhi—which is actually fairly close to our hostel in comparison to the red fort we went to the day before—we walked a kilometer or so down the stereotypical Ignou Road towards the main street to catch a rickshaw. What a trip. The “sidewalk” was broken and unearthed more often than not, leaving us to hop over the exposed sluggishly flowing sewage. Men would stop their work to stare overtly at my breasts and whistle at them as if they expected my covered cleavage to respond. Boys are running up behind me and attempting to take pictures of my butt at every corner as if it rivals the derrière of JLo. Every westerner is treated like a whore-ish movie star ! This practice, quaintly referred to as “eve-teasing,” forces Ty to break his attempt at stoicism in the face of adversity and leaves him laughing so hard I can almost see tears. I’m glad he has such protective instincts.
One thirty minute rickshaw later, putting up with the sexual harassment proved to be worthwhile. The tombs were AWESOME, and are said to have been the prototype for the Taj Mahal. Even the barber was given his own tomb since he was trusted with holding a razor to Huyamin’s neck. Pretty sweet. The peacefulness of the grounds was hard to leave. After the tomb, we attempted to go see this Muslim shrine not realizing that it was almost prayer call. The extended side street in front of the shrine was completely filled with Muslim men wearing their whites from head to toe. Needless to say, it was all Ty could do to suppress his laughter in response to the wonderful attention received.
For our second lunchtime meal in India, we headed to Sagar’s—right next to a Subway that DELIVERS (why do we not have those at home??)—and feasted on heaping servings of Southern Indian style vegetarian cuisine for less than a dollar a plate. Yummmm. Bellies full, we went to the Baha’I Lotus Temple for a little bit more of that rare, coveted silence and peacefulness in Delhi. Thoroughly exhausted, we called it a day.
PICTURES SOON!
Tonight we are catching a nine hour bus to Shimla, a Himalayan mountain town, where we will stay for one night en route to Dharamsala. Can’t wait!
One thirty minute rickshaw later, putting up with the sexual harassment proved to be worthwhile. The tombs were AWESOME, and are said to have been the prototype for the Taj Mahal. Even the barber was given his own tomb since he was trusted with holding a razor to Huyamin’s neck. Pretty sweet. The peacefulness of the grounds was hard to leave. After the tomb, we attempted to go see this Muslim shrine not realizing that it was almost prayer call. The extended side street in front of the shrine was completely filled with Muslim men wearing their whites from head to toe. Needless to say, it was all Ty could do to suppress his laughter in response to the wonderful attention received.
For our second lunchtime meal in India, we headed to Sagar’s—right next to a Subway that DELIVERS (why do we not have those at home??)—and feasted on heaping servings of Southern Indian style vegetarian cuisine for less than a dollar a plate. Yummmm. Bellies full, we went to the Baha’I Lotus Temple for a little bit more of that rare, coveted silence and peacefulness in Delhi. Thoroughly exhausted, we called it a day.
PICTURES SOON!
Tonight we are catching a nine hour bus to Shimla, a Himalayan mountain town, where we will stay for one night en route to Dharamsala. Can’t wait!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The Journey Begins
LOCATION: Delhi, Nirvana Hostel
Sitting in New Delhi’s Nirvana Hostel, freshly showered, eating complimentary rice complete with an unknown meatlike substance and a side of beer, I am content. It is hard to believe that almost exactly a year ago to the day I was beginning a similar journey to India, but without the same freedom and intention. Both of these attributes are present now. Catching myself smile “just because” has, in the last 24 hours, become a warmly embraced common occurrence. In short, life is good!
To say that the trek to this place, this moment, deviated from our original plan is a crude understatement. First, for reasons still completely understood by me, Ty’s visa wasn’t granted in time for us to catch our first flight on July 26th. Bummer. If that wasn’t bad enough, we then had to pay a whopping $700 to rebook our flight to August 1st. Huge bummer. This divulgence may sound like I am complaining, and in other scenarios that would likely be the intention of these words. However, I instead am infinitely grateful for them, as everything—even the annoyingly talkative thirty-eight-year old guy from Jersey who sat next to me on the plane who whipped out his camera to show me pictures of that “hot new thang” he met at a bar last weekend—seem to have been almost divinely orchestrated to prepare me for what is to come. Upon arriving one notices that this city is filled with car horns honking one hundred times a minute, trash covering the streets, and beggars everywhere, yet the people exude a warmth of spirit and kindness that is unparalleled. This is the first time in a lonnnnnng time where things just feel completely right, completely carefree and positive. I cannot wait to see where this journey takes us!
Ty and I spent our first day in India visiting the Red Fort, a former palace for royalty, in Old Delhi. The architecture was reminiscent of buildings serving similar purposes that I have seen in Morocco, but the delicate carvings in the white marble façade will make this palace memorable I’m sure. That or the two young men who followed us throughout the complex indiscreetly taking pictures of my butt with their cell phone’s camera! After that, we meandered towards the largest Mosque in all of India, peaked inside at its grandiosity, but elected not to venture in since Ty was too scarred after seeing “Slumdog Millionaire” to leave his precious, new REI shoes out front. (If you’re reading this, love ya, Ty!) Instead, and after asking directions from at least four different people, we made our way through the narrow, crowded side streets of Old Delhi to Karim’s—food that is to die for. We feasted on mutton, butter naan, palak paneer, and tandoori chicken so good that I would build a shrine to it. Literally. To end the day, we finished exploring the jagged and seemingly endless streets of the area until catching a rickshaw back to the hostel, showered again, and are likely to call it an early night to stave off exhaustion.
One more day in Delhi, then on to the next one.
NEXT?: Dharamsala, the Himalayas, and the Dalai Lama!
Sitting in New Delhi’s Nirvana Hostel, freshly showered, eating complimentary rice complete with an unknown meatlike substance and a side of beer, I am content. It is hard to believe that almost exactly a year ago to the day I was beginning a similar journey to India, but without the same freedom and intention. Both of these attributes are present now. Catching myself smile “just because” has, in the last 24 hours, become a warmly embraced common occurrence. In short, life is good!
To say that the trek to this place, this moment, deviated from our original plan is a crude understatement. First, for reasons still completely understood by me, Ty’s visa wasn’t granted in time for us to catch our first flight on July 26th. Bummer. If that wasn’t bad enough, we then had to pay a whopping $700 to rebook our flight to August 1st. Huge bummer. This divulgence may sound like I am complaining, and in other scenarios that would likely be the intention of these words. However, I instead am infinitely grateful for them, as everything—even the annoyingly talkative thirty-eight-year old guy from Jersey who sat next to me on the plane who whipped out his camera to show me pictures of that “hot new thang” he met at a bar last weekend—seem to have been almost divinely orchestrated to prepare me for what is to come. Upon arriving one notices that this city is filled with car horns honking one hundred times a minute, trash covering the streets, and beggars everywhere, yet the people exude a warmth of spirit and kindness that is unparalleled. This is the first time in a lonnnnnng time where things just feel completely right, completely carefree and positive. I cannot wait to see where this journey takes us!
Ty and I spent our first day in India visiting the Red Fort, a former palace for royalty, in Old Delhi. The architecture was reminiscent of buildings serving similar purposes that I have seen in Morocco, but the delicate carvings in the white marble façade will make this palace memorable I’m sure. That or the two young men who followed us throughout the complex indiscreetly taking pictures of my butt with their cell phone’s camera! After that, we meandered towards the largest Mosque in all of India, peaked inside at its grandiosity, but elected not to venture in since Ty was too scarred after seeing “Slumdog Millionaire” to leave his precious, new REI shoes out front. (If you’re reading this, love ya, Ty!) Instead, and after asking directions from at least four different people, we made our way through the narrow, crowded side streets of Old Delhi to Karim’s—food that is to die for. We feasted on mutton, butter naan, palak paneer, and tandoori chicken so good that I would build a shrine to it. Literally. To end the day, we finished exploring the jagged and seemingly endless streets of the area until catching a rickshaw back to the hostel, showered again, and are likely to call it an early night to stave off exhaustion.
One more day in Delhi, then on to the next one.
NEXT?: Dharamsala, the Himalayas, and the Dalai Lama!
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