It only took 7 minutes to bring this site up at the super duper faster internet service place I found!
Greetings from the land of Buddha's enlightment. I stood under the Bodhi tree today! Feeling the awe, and also feeling a bit peckish, of course. 2 Rose Lassi's later, and I'm happy.
So to end the Ashram experience, several of us received our mantras, received darshan when Swamiji spoke and also, in receiving the mantras got to hear Swami Niranjan speak to the group, and the experience is somethng I'll be reflecting and processing for years to come, so a little difficult to sum up here. The last words Swami Niranjan said to us: "A parting shot; keep on trucking."
Fantastic. and true. What else is there to do?
The buddha said "All things pass. You must work out your own salavtion diligently," as his final words. On a large scale, this type of thing usually makes me panic. Those long dark nights of the soul I tend to be up late, pondering, and the thought usually occurs to me "Everyone I care about will die." It's not a helpful thought at 3 a.m.
Here, now, in front of my eyes, I'm seeing a completely different world, of living, surviving, dying, all things passing, rebirth.
I'd like to say something more profound here & tell you all that I wasn't panicking about all those mosquito bites I got last night. My comfortable hotel (family run and away from the hub-bub, in the 'hood where the locals live) is right next to a swamp pond. I just told myself that I'm in the north and the shots the travel clinic recommended, those were for southern mosquitos, who sound more intense, but this morning I had a moment of doubt.
Last night, coming back to the Guesthouse, I saw four kids all under the age of 5 playing in the garbage (not an uncommon sight, sadly) setting it on fire and chasing each other with it. I opened my bottle of water, ready just in case.
One thing I did get to do at the Ashram, was contribute slightly to the Christmas show, a combination of Solid Gold dancing meets Bollywood and Woodstock. There was quite a lot of juggling, hip-and pelvis thrusting and religious chanting from all over the world, just like I imagine there was at the birth of Yogi Hey-suess. Just about everything I wrote got rewritten or discarded, but it was still fun, to write about Peace on Earth, and the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, and to express the desire for peace, love and light to be shared and experienced by everyone.
Peace be with you.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Escape from Ashram Alcatraz continued
Alright, now that I'm out, I am free to use the internet, free to use the phone, so I'm catching you all up on December.
Team Canada was in charge of Prasad, which is a gift from the Guru, and very special. Under some frantic conditions, we were trying to put everything together quickly all the while focusing our thoughts on blessings, and thoughts of gratitude and grace. Oh, it's an art you will work your whole life to master.
When we arrived at the train station, in Jaisidhi, I was ready to turn around and go home. As I said to my fellow companions on this wild trip, it was like being dropped into the middle of a Sally Struthers commercial. Now, in 3D, the world I usually avoided watching on television is my life for the next month. I was in the one of the poorest areas of India, and I started going into shock in Kolkata. Bihar was beyond that, in ways I still can't explain. Bell telephone commercials used to make me cry, okay? So imagine, my delicate (some say neurotic, but we're not close friends, just acquaintances) sensibilities under these conditions: I was still jetlagged, still thinking about that amazing chocolate fountain at the breakfast buffet in Singapore which cost more most people earn here in a month, the traffic in Kolkatta and then, I'm in the impoverished province of Bihar.
Apparently, this cafe's generator's going to blow so this ends this post. Sigh.
Happy Holy-days, everyone!
Team Canada was in charge of Prasad, which is a gift from the Guru, and very special. Under some frantic conditions, we were trying to put everything together quickly all the while focusing our thoughts on blessings, and thoughts of gratitude and grace. Oh, it's an art you will work your whole life to master.
When we arrived at the train station, in Jaisidhi, I was ready to turn around and go home. As I said to my fellow companions on this wild trip, it was like being dropped into the middle of a Sally Struthers commercial. Now, in 3D, the world I usually avoided watching on television is my life for the next month. I was in the one of the poorest areas of India, and I started going into shock in Kolkata. Bihar was beyond that, in ways I still can't explain. Bell telephone commercials used to make me cry, okay? So imagine, my delicate (some say neurotic, but we're not close friends, just acquaintances) sensibilities under these conditions: I was still jetlagged, still thinking about that amazing chocolate fountain at the breakfast buffet in Singapore which cost more most people earn here in a month, the traffic in Kolkatta and then, I'm in the impoverished province of Bihar.
Apparently, this cafe's generator's going to blow so this ends this post. Sigh.
Happy Holy-days, everyone!
Escape from Ashram Alcatraz, part 1
Okay, so, where to begin?
Once upon a time, a long time ago, Ashram's sprang up all over the world and devotees flocked to them. And sometimes, also curious bystanders. I put myself in the second category.
I sort of knew what I was getting into, Karma Yoga, which is about seva, selfless service. Say that 3 times fast. It's way harder to practice it my friend, way harder.
Karma yoga, in brief as to what I understand, is perfection in action, and detachment to the result. No problem, I say. Wake me up at 4:30, make me clean, then throw in 8 hours of physical labour under extremely chaotic conditions and some duress and who wouldn't have a smile on their face?
Lots of people in orange, that's who.
I understand, from what I've heard (Ashram gossip, whoa!) that I was at an intense ashram, during an intense time (Yagja) and that, okay, that I do understand. It was the glazed look in someone's eye when I got sick, or someone else from Team Canada got sick, and all I heard was the word "purification". You say purification, I say puking. You say potato, I say, "please, no more subji or I'll die."
This may make it sound like I didn't enjoy myself, which would be unfair. I did have fun, I actually laughed alot, usually with all the members of team Canada, who looked just as confused, befuddled and disturbed as I did when someone in orange (this means you're among the top bananas. Or, as I came to think, you could just be bananas in the quaint old sense of the word: "you're loopy") anyways, when someone in orange yells at you, speaks with an angry tone or treats you like you're the Ashram idiot, your personal spiritual practice would be to not give them back the same attitude, harshness, and lack of respect they're doling out in spades. (This is tough love, spiritual style bootcamp. "Drop and give me 2 hours of meditation. I don't want to see the pulse of your heartbeat moving under your skin, do you hear me soldier?")
So, many days of hurry up and wait and then go!go!go! quickly! quickly! now! - it was chaos, and then some.
But, now I have you thinking, "I'm never going to an Ashram." I truly don't mean to put anyone off the experience. If you feel like working hard and finding out what you're made of, this is the trip for you.
Turns out, I'm mostly made of fluff, like what you see in cotton candy, with a bit of a spine.
Who knew?
Once upon a time, a long time ago, Ashram's sprang up all over the world and devotees flocked to them. And sometimes, also curious bystanders. I put myself in the second category.
I sort of knew what I was getting into, Karma Yoga, which is about seva, selfless service. Say that 3 times fast. It's way harder to practice it my friend, way harder.
Karma yoga, in brief as to what I understand, is perfection in action, and detachment to the result. No problem, I say. Wake me up at 4:30, make me clean, then throw in 8 hours of physical labour under extremely chaotic conditions and some duress and who wouldn't have a smile on their face?
Lots of people in orange, that's who.
I understand, from what I've heard (Ashram gossip, whoa!) that I was at an intense ashram, during an intense time (Yagja) and that, okay, that I do understand. It was the glazed look in someone's eye when I got sick, or someone else from Team Canada got sick, and all I heard was the word "purification". You say purification, I say puking. You say potato, I say, "please, no more subji or I'll die."
This may make it sound like I didn't enjoy myself, which would be unfair. I did have fun, I actually laughed alot, usually with all the members of team Canada, who looked just as confused, befuddled and disturbed as I did when someone in orange (this means you're among the top bananas. Or, as I came to think, you could just be bananas in the quaint old sense of the word: "you're loopy") anyways, when someone in orange yells at you, speaks with an angry tone or treats you like you're the Ashram idiot, your personal spiritual practice would be to not give them back the same attitude, harshness, and lack of respect they're doling out in spades. (This is tough love, spiritual style bootcamp. "Drop and give me 2 hours of meditation. I don't want to see the pulse of your heartbeat moving under your skin, do you hear me soldier?")
So, many days of hurry up and wait and then go!go!go! quickly! quickly! now! - it was chaos, and then some.
But, now I have you thinking, "I'm never going to an Ashram." I truly don't mean to put anyone off the experience. If you feel like working hard and finding out what you're made of, this is the trip for you.
Turns out, I'm mostly made of fluff, like what you see in cotton candy, with a bit of a spine.
Who knew?
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Kolkata, Mon Amour
I couldn't resist this last opportunity.
I'm in the lobby of the Hotel, sitting at the reception desk to use their one computer, the command central for this hotel and the official "internet here available" site. Having that chai at 7pm may not have been the best idea, especially when we're getting up at 4:30 a.m. My roommate here is similar in that she likes to get up with time to spare, so if we're going to be at breakfast at 6:15, the alarm's set for 4:30. Birds of a feather flock to Kolkata.
Another tip: when in Kolkata, don't drink the water. Bottled is okay. If it hasn't been opened, filled with tap water and re-sold.
Enough cliches.
Yesterday, in Singapore, they provided a chocolate fountain at breakfast. I am still salivating.
In Kolkata for lunch today, I ate Thali (tawa roti, rice, dal, 2 veggie varieties, curd, roasted papad and pickles.) I also had a sweet lassi and chai. It came to around $2.
I'm in a bit of state of shock. I say a bit since I don't want to worry anyone. Am I ever glad my parents are not computer saavy. The newest piece of technology my father owns is the touch-tone telephone.
Here's what the lonely planet guide tells me about Kolkata: Population 14.7 million, Area 185 sq km. No wonder everything looks like it's out of a tropical-based Dickens novel: "dramatic colonial architecture with more than a few fine buildings in photogenic states of semi-collapse"
If you could hear the traffic that's 20 feet away from me - boisterous. Very unnerving. When you have no street lights or traffic signs, you "lay on the horn" to communicate many things like "I'm coming through the intersection at breaknecvk speed" "I'm right behind you" and "Get out of the way, dumb tourist!"
Apparently Kolkata is friendlier than India's other mega-cities. Also, major streets here sometimes have 3 names, the old British name, the post-independence name, and 'the Communist's were here too' name. And I quote: "citizens and taxis still tend to go by the British-era names, when most maps and business cards and street signs go by the new names." Street signs? What are they talking about? I haven't seen a single one. Though I just saw my first cockroach crawl across the reception desk as I wrote that last bit. Also from the Lonely Planet: "A more day to day worry is crossing the road: the mad traffic takes no prisoners."
You're telling me! Thanks for the words of comfort, Mr. Lonely Planet. Next time you're in town, the chai's on me. No, no, I insist.
Bihar, the state we leave for tomorrow by train, is the birth place of Buddhism in India. I am goint to the state where 26 centuries ago, Siddhartha Gautama attained enlightenment "beneath a bodhi tree at Bodhgaya"! Words fail me on this point - I had no idea (Internal mental struggle: Bad traveller, what kind of preparation did you do? Well, uhm, none really. I signed up to go to this Ashram and then, uhm, I got my traveller's cheques. I thought I could read the guidebook on the plane. I was busy, y'know, school and work and and and the dog ate my homework) I am feeling very blessed. Enough to forget about what the guide says about Bihar "wracked by widespread government corruption, sporadic intercaste warfare, kidnappings, extortions & banditry, Bihar ramains the least literate and most lawless part of India." Great. It's a good thing my dad has no idea. Maybe if I had no ideas, that would be good too.
Must go, now the staff is arguing with me about when I started on here and upping the cost of the internet.
I think I should go to bed anyways, it's hurting to keep my feet up off the floor to avoid the bug I saw scuttle along there. There may have been more than one. Good heavens.
I'm in the lobby of the Hotel, sitting at the reception desk to use their one computer, the command central for this hotel and the official "internet here available" site. Having that chai at 7pm may not have been the best idea, especially when we're getting up at 4:30 a.m. My roommate here is similar in that she likes to get up with time to spare, so if we're going to be at breakfast at 6:15, the alarm's set for 4:30. Birds of a feather flock to Kolkata.
Another tip: when in Kolkata, don't drink the water. Bottled is okay. If it hasn't been opened, filled with tap water and re-sold.
Enough cliches.
Yesterday, in Singapore, they provided a chocolate fountain at breakfast. I am still salivating.
In Kolkata for lunch today, I ate Thali (tawa roti, rice, dal, 2 veggie varieties, curd, roasted papad and pickles.) I also had a sweet lassi and chai. It came to around $2.
I'm in a bit of state of shock. I say a bit since I don't want to worry anyone. Am I ever glad my parents are not computer saavy. The newest piece of technology my father owns is the touch-tone telephone.
Here's what the lonely planet guide tells me about Kolkata: Population 14.7 million, Area 185 sq km. No wonder everything looks like it's out of a tropical-based Dickens novel: "dramatic colonial architecture with more than a few fine buildings in photogenic states of semi-collapse"
If you could hear the traffic that's 20 feet away from me - boisterous. Very unnerving. When you have no street lights or traffic signs, you "lay on the horn" to communicate many things like "I'm coming through the intersection at breaknecvk speed" "I'm right behind you" and "Get out of the way, dumb tourist!"
Apparently Kolkata is friendlier than India's other mega-cities. Also, major streets here sometimes have 3 names, the old British name, the post-independence name, and 'the Communist's were here too' name. And I quote: "citizens and taxis still tend to go by the British-era names, when most maps and business cards and street signs go by the new names." Street signs? What are they talking about? I haven't seen a single one. Though I just saw my first cockroach crawl across the reception desk as I wrote that last bit. Also from the Lonely Planet: "A more day to day worry is crossing the road: the mad traffic takes no prisoners."
You're telling me! Thanks for the words of comfort, Mr. Lonely Planet. Next time you're in town, the chai's on me. No, no, I insist.
Bihar, the state we leave for tomorrow by train, is the birth place of Buddhism in India. I am goint to the state where 26 centuries ago, Siddhartha Gautama attained enlightenment "beneath a bodhi tree at Bodhgaya"! Words fail me on this point - I had no idea (Internal mental struggle: Bad traveller, what kind of preparation did you do? Well, uhm, none really. I signed up to go to this Ashram and then, uhm, I got my traveller's cheques. I thought I could read the guidebook on the plane. I was busy, y'know, school and work and and and the dog ate my homework) I am feeling very blessed. Enough to forget about what the guide says about Bihar "wracked by widespread government corruption, sporadic intercaste warfare, kidnappings, extortions & banditry, Bihar ramains the least literate and most lawless part of India." Great. It's a good thing my dad has no idea. Maybe if I had no ideas, that would be good too.
Must go, now the staff is arguing with me about when I started on here and upping the cost of the internet.
I think I should go to bed anyways, it's hurting to keep my feet up off the floor to avoid the bug I saw scuttle along there. There may have been more than one. Good heavens.
Oh Kolkata
We arrived last night exhasuted, got into our rooms and fell asleep to the kirtan-like traffic of Kolkata.
Kirtan is this call & response devotional singing, and on the harrowing ride from the airport, during which I gasped outloud many times, and covered my eyes a few times, I thought all the honking sounded very much like traffic kirtan. I noticed only 3 traffic lights, and couldn't figure out how anyone knows where they're going, the roads have no signs, no street numbers. The Cab did a U-turn in the middle of a road and the next thing I knew, we were out on the street of Kolkatta. Street-slash-sidewalk, why quibble over details like "Am I standing on the road in traffic? Or is there no such thing as a sidewalk here?"
The good news: I have had the best food ever for breakfast, and lots of chai and lassi's.
I'd have to say, the traffic is every thing everyone described, worse actually. The people have been incredibly kind and helpful.
Tomorrow, we head to the ashram, at which point the blogging ends and it's all handwritten journal entries, for a while.
Namaste, everyone, namaste.
Kirtan is this call & response devotional singing, and on the harrowing ride from the airport, during which I gasped outloud many times, and covered my eyes a few times, I thought all the honking sounded very much like traffic kirtan. I noticed only 3 traffic lights, and couldn't figure out how anyone knows where they're going, the roads have no signs, no street numbers. The Cab did a U-turn in the middle of a road and the next thing I knew, we were out on the street of Kolkatta. Street-slash-sidewalk, why quibble over details like "Am I standing on the road in traffic? Or is there no such thing as a sidewalk here?"
The good news: I have had the best food ever for breakfast, and lots of chai and lassi's.
I'd have to say, the traffic is every thing everyone described, worse actually. The people have been incredibly kind and helpful.
Tomorrow, we head to the ashram, at which point the blogging ends and it's all handwritten journal entries, for a while.
Namaste, everyone, namaste.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Singapore Slings part two
Well I went out with the group but turned around when I realised my flip-flop shod feet were killing me.
So details, details, as they say, God is in the details.
On the Wisemen system, on Singapore Airlines, I tried to learn how to count to 10 in Hindi and Arabic. I could have done other languages but was getting wiped out.
On the night before leaving, my friend Ayelet came over and when I said I was going to Bihar she said "NO one goes to Bihar"
I asked why and my roomate answered "Because of the massacres there." She added "But it's Caste system stuff, it won't affect you." Meaning of course, that I wouldn't be a target, in such a scenario.
At which point I was so glad I had chosen to have my roommate reassure my father when he calls Vancouver in a panic.
Tonight, the group leaves for Kolkatta.
India, my Godness.
So details, details, as they say, God is in the details.
On the Wisemen system, on Singapore Airlines, I tried to learn how to count to 10 in Hindi and Arabic. I could have done other languages but was getting wiped out.
On the night before leaving, my friend Ayelet came over and when I said I was going to Bihar she said "NO one goes to Bihar"
I asked why and my roomate answered "Because of the massacres there." She added "But it's Caste system stuff, it won't affect you." Meaning of course, that I wouldn't be a target, in such a scenario.
At which point I was so glad I had chosen to have my roommate reassure my father when he calls Vancouver in a panic.
Tonight, the group leaves for Kolkatta.
India, my Godness.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Singapore Slings & Arrows of Outrageous Fortune
I can't believe I'm here!
Firstly, I wish I could travel Singapore Airlines to Toronto. We had a menu to choose from for lunch, dinner and a light meal from Seoul to Singapore, by which time it was something like 3 in the morning Vancouver time so I didn't eat it, but I wept. The food was that good.
I watched 2 and half movies, since I was conking out around 2 in the morning. I also played Centipede and finally learned the rules. The entertainment system was called Wisemen. How auspicious.
okay, we're going for food now.
so long from Singapore
Firstly, I wish I could travel Singapore Airlines to Toronto. We had a menu to choose from for lunch, dinner and a light meal from Seoul to Singapore, by which time it was something like 3 in the morning Vancouver time so I didn't eat it, but I wept. The food was that good.
I watched 2 and half movies, since I was conking out around 2 in the morning. I also played Centipede and finally learned the rules. The entertainment system was called Wisemen. How auspicious.
okay, we're going for food now.
so long from Singapore
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Two days to go
The countdown begins.
Two days left! This morning I finally went to do the 'money stuff'. I had my toiletries sorted out weeks ago, but the money/exchange/understanding currency at all, well no surprise there that I kept dawdling and procrastinating. I finally went to my bank and said "Show me the travellers cheques".
And when they showed me my bank balance, I had to do some quick math (dear me, now that is something I can't handle at the best of times but under pressure, in a bank lineup, with an exchange to figure out?) Walking home afterwards, I thought about how glad I was that I had already figured out which books I was taking to read on the plane, like 6 months ago. That's how I plan my life, wondering "What am I going to read?" not "What's the exchange rate?" Sometimes this means that late at night I'm wide awake thinking "When was I supposed to start setting aside money for RRSP's?" and "What money? It doesn't grow on bodhi trees you know" and "What is an RRSP?" .I walked home from the bank humming Cyndi Lauper's 'Money Changes Everything'.
Two days left. My gosh.
Two days left! This morning I finally went to do the 'money stuff'. I had my toiletries sorted out weeks ago, but the money/exchange/understanding currency at all, well no surprise there that I kept dawdling and procrastinating. I finally went to my bank and said "Show me the travellers cheques".
And when they showed me my bank balance, I had to do some quick math (dear me, now that is something I can't handle at the best of times but under pressure, in a bank lineup, with an exchange to figure out?) Walking home afterwards, I thought about how glad I was that I had already figured out which books I was taking to read on the plane, like 6 months ago. That's how I plan my life, wondering "What am I going to read?" not "What's the exchange rate?" Sometimes this means that late at night I'm wide awake thinking "When was I supposed to start setting aside money for RRSP's?" and "What money? It doesn't grow on bodhi trees you know" and "What is an RRSP?" .I walked home from the bank humming Cyndi Lauper's 'Money Changes Everything'.
Two days left. My gosh.
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