Arre BAAAP! (Indian expression more or less equivalent to Egads!)
It's been AGES since I've updated this thing, and I have LOTS of catching up to do. I guess that's a good thing, no? It means I'm spending my time adventuring and not sitting idly on a computer. I have been writing nearly every day in my journal. Analog style, and will be sure to post selections of my writings when I have more time to, for lack of a better word, waste on a computer.
But, to incite some salivation from the mouths of my readers I'll list out the places I've been since my last post.
After Amritsar and the Golden Temple I headed north to Mcleod Ganj. The sky city in the Himalaya that is the home in exile of the Dalai Lama. I spent nearly a month there and had many adventures including a few legendary hikes.
After that was Delhi for a day, which was full of it's own adventures. Just getting from point A to B in India is always sure to adventricate (A word I made up meaning: to infuse one's life and times with adventure).
Next was Jaisalmer and Rajasthan. Spending time in Aladin's sand castle city and riding camels into the desert to sleep a starry night on static waved ocean of sand.
There in a walled city I re-encountered a friend and we were off to Goa where I am now. My time is spent booting around on beaches and motorcycles having a grand old time in India's relaxation capital. There's also a hint of Portugalia here as Goa was a Portuguese colony for 451 years.
Anyways, I'm off to hike to a waterfall now.
Cheers from beachside!
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Eclipse at Haridwar
Werewolves and Vampires and Bellas, OH MY!
NOT. But after another jeep ride (not scary this time) Alex and I found ourselves in Haridwar. We had to catch a train out of Haridwar for Amritsar later that evening so we had some time to poke around. The Ganga in Haridwar is nice and clean and the city has a very Hindu spiritual vibe to it. Lots of Sadhus and Pundits and the like. Alex and I wandered, then crossed the Ganga via bridge to the bathing side of the river. To cut to the chase, we each took and ICY dip in the Ganga as the sun set over the mystical city of Haridwar. Next was chai with a Babaji and warming up. We kept on walking upriver and came to the main religious Ghat in Haridwar. We took of our shoes and walked around. We decided to stay a while and soak up the scene when we realized there was a lunar eclipse going on. Needless to say we were stunned. "How cool!" We said to eachother, "to be at a holy site in Haridwar, after bathing in the Ganga, watching a lunar eclipse!" It was pretty rad, but soon too cold to stay. The dark patch spreading over what was left of the moon finally won out, or was it the clouds that obscured the whole show?
We walked on, ducking into alleyways and chowing on some street food. We stopped here and there to look at handicrafts and books. We were about to call the shopping quits when a blanket store caught my eye. Alex had this awesome blanket from Rajasthan made from local wool that I was super envious of. I was in need of more warmth so I decided to check out the shop and see if they had anything comparable. They had a blanket that was thick and soft and warm and wool. It wasn't quite like Alex's, not worse, just different. I got it in green, wrapped it around myself, and was toasty like never before.
Our train to Amritsar was on time, as I remember, and we only had a little trouble getting on. We couldn't find our exact coach, but found one that seemed right and got on. We weren't bothered and after a few hours fell asleep. Soon, however, the inevitable shoulder tug pulled me from my sleep. Two Indian men stood below my bunk with furrowed brows and demanded to see my ticket. I showed it to them willingly. After inspection it came about that Alex and I were, in fact, in the wrong car. Damn. We had to get off at the next stop and frantically find our correct seats. We did and Alex left his big bag in the first car. We slept all the way to Amritsar and woke up at the end of the line once again. As I awoke a young street kid came running onto the train with a bag bigger than we was. He was looking on the floor for things of value, saw my shoes (didn't see me in my bunk) grabbed them and made to make away with them. A bellowing yell from the top bunk stopped him in his tracks and returned my shoes. I am significantly larger than most Indians and find it easy to be intimidating when I need to be.
Alex ran up to the last car we were in to get his bag. It was sitting there loyally and we regrouped in the station and made our way to the Golden Temple of Amritsar.
NOT. But after another jeep ride (not scary this time) Alex and I found ourselves in Haridwar. We had to catch a train out of Haridwar for Amritsar later that evening so we had some time to poke around. The Ganga in Haridwar is nice and clean and the city has a very Hindu spiritual vibe to it. Lots of Sadhus and Pundits and the like. Alex and I wandered, then crossed the Ganga via bridge to the bathing side of the river. To cut to the chase, we each took and ICY dip in the Ganga as the sun set over the mystical city of Haridwar. Next was chai with a Babaji and warming up. We kept on walking upriver and came to the main religious Ghat in Haridwar. We took of our shoes and walked around. We decided to stay a while and soak up the scene when we realized there was a lunar eclipse going on. Needless to say we were stunned. "How cool!" We said to eachother, "to be at a holy site in Haridwar, after bathing in the Ganga, watching a lunar eclipse!" It was pretty rad, but soon too cold to stay. The dark patch spreading over what was left of the moon finally won out, or was it the clouds that obscured the whole show?
We walked on, ducking into alleyways and chowing on some street food. We stopped here and there to look at handicrafts and books. We were about to call the shopping quits when a blanket store caught my eye. Alex had this awesome blanket from Rajasthan made from local wool that I was super envious of. I was in need of more warmth so I decided to check out the shop and see if they had anything comparable. They had a blanket that was thick and soft and warm and wool. It wasn't quite like Alex's, not worse, just different. I got it in green, wrapped it around myself, and was toasty like never before.
Our train to Amritsar was on time, as I remember, and we only had a little trouble getting on. We couldn't find our exact coach, but found one that seemed right and got on. We weren't bothered and after a few hours fell asleep. Soon, however, the inevitable shoulder tug pulled me from my sleep. Two Indian men stood below my bunk with furrowed brows and demanded to see my ticket. I showed it to them willingly. After inspection it came about that Alex and I were, in fact, in the wrong car. Damn. We had to get off at the next stop and frantically find our correct seats. We did and Alex left his big bag in the first car. We slept all the way to Amritsar and woke up at the end of the line once again. As I awoke a young street kid came running onto the train with a bag bigger than we was. He was looking on the floor for things of value, saw my shoes (didn't see me in my bunk) grabbed them and made to make away with them. A bellowing yell from the top bunk stopped him in his tracks and returned my shoes. I am significantly larger than most Indians and find it easy to be intimidating when I need to be.
Alex ran up to the last car we were in to get his bag. It was sitting there loyally and we regrouped in the station and made our way to the Golden Temple of Amritsar.
Trains and other auto-mobile forms of transport. Dehra Dun; the "other" city of knowledge. Satyon- Hindi for "Impossible Roads
We left Varanasi via train and made the 20+ hr train ride to Dehra Dun where Alex and I were to meet Alex's host family. The train ride went smooth as I remember. We hopped off the train at Dehra Dun, the end of the line, and took an auto-rickshaw to Pooja's house. Pooja, Alex's Inidan Mom, welcomed us warmly, fed us great food, and showed us around the city. Dehra Dun is where all the British children of the Raj came to go to school and the academic tradition has hung around. Dehra Dun is apparently the seat of Academia in India and all the best High Schools are there. How much this affected the atmosphere I can't say. Dehra Dun even has a military technology base. It's also located below the hill station of Mussourie, which was a popular summer retreat for the British.
Pooja's house is located in a "Progressive Colony" that is the Indian attempt at a "Western" suburb. The houses are all quite large, complete with multiple cars inside fenced off plots, and down the street is a western-style supermarket. The streetlamps in the colony are adorned with banners of progressive propaganda. These lifeless rags limply flap in the wind, sun-bleached, with words only barely legible, reminiscent of a movement come to soon; a dream and heyday passed. The less tattered signage bear phrases like "Littering hurts everybody," "Don't be afraid of change. Change is evolution." And, "We are a respectful community. No harassing people on the street." Pooja shared the statistic that something like 180 members of the community are related to Pooja's family. I can't imagine there are more than 300 community members in total. Our stay in the colony was pleasant, and I even got to ride a brand new Royal Enfield 500!!!
The next day Alex and I took another rickshaw to the Jeep Depot where we then got on a jeep to head up to Satyon. Satyon is a village in the foothills of the Himalaya where Pooja's school is located. The jeep ride to Satyon was an adventure! First off, Alex and I were squeezed into the far back area. We weren't so terribly tightly packed until we picked up some locals on the way up the twisty mountain roads. Before I knew it there were 14 (or more, I'm not totally sure how many people were on the roof) people squeezed into the jeep. To avoid suffocation I opened my window. Soon I felt the cooling touch of moisture hitting my face. Must be the moist mountain air. Wait, this mountain air doesn't taste nor smell fresh at all. In fact.... Two rows up in the jeep a local woman was puking out her window.
Driving up the mountain roads to Satyon was a death-defying leap of faith to be sure. At times the one lane road would whip around hair pin turns with 200+ft. cliffs on three sides. This one lane road is used for two way traffic and the only way to know if another car is coming your direction is to hear its horn. You honk before the corner hoping other vehicles will hear you. Even if they do it's a race to be around the corner first and not be the one who has to pull over. Amazingly absurd. I had innocently handed over my life 100% to a jeep driver I had never spoken to.
The village of Satyon turned out to be a beautiful place. Satyon is mainly a farming community and Pooja's school works to educate the local children in order to prevent their exodus to Dehra Dun for school. We stayed with the english teaching volunteers at the school and spent a great afternoon and evening in the small village.
The next day was back to Dehra Dun via bus. Same roads that were sketchy as all hell in a jeep, but this time in a bus. 50X more terrifying and death-defying and 4X more puke, this time not in my face. The bus was almost wider than the roads, and more tippy than the jeep. I prepared my soul for salvation and came to grips with my mortality. Huge learning lesson and I'm so glad I lived through that trip to apply what I learned in those two hair-raising hours to the rest of my life.
We spent another night at Pooja's then left for Haridwar the next morning.
Pooja's house is located in a "Progressive Colony" that is the Indian attempt at a "Western" suburb. The houses are all quite large, complete with multiple cars inside fenced off plots, and down the street is a western-style supermarket. The streetlamps in the colony are adorned with banners of progressive propaganda. These lifeless rags limply flap in the wind, sun-bleached, with words only barely legible, reminiscent of a movement come to soon; a dream and heyday passed. The less tattered signage bear phrases like "Littering hurts everybody," "Don't be afraid of change. Change is evolution." And, "We are a respectful community. No harassing people on the street." Pooja shared the statistic that something like 180 members of the community are related to Pooja's family. I can't imagine there are more than 300 community members in total. Our stay in the colony was pleasant, and I even got to ride a brand new Royal Enfield 500!!!
The next day Alex and I took another rickshaw to the Jeep Depot where we then got on a jeep to head up to Satyon. Satyon is a village in the foothills of the Himalaya where Pooja's school is located. The jeep ride to Satyon was an adventure! First off, Alex and I were squeezed into the far back area. We weren't so terribly tightly packed until we picked up some locals on the way up the twisty mountain roads. Before I knew it there were 14 (or more, I'm not totally sure how many people were on the roof) people squeezed into the jeep. To avoid suffocation I opened my window. Soon I felt the cooling touch of moisture hitting my face. Must be the moist mountain air. Wait, this mountain air doesn't taste nor smell fresh at all. In fact.... Two rows up in the jeep a local woman was puking out her window.
Driving up the mountain roads to Satyon was a death-defying leap of faith to be sure. At times the one lane road would whip around hair pin turns with 200+ft. cliffs on three sides. This one lane road is used for two way traffic and the only way to know if another car is coming your direction is to hear its horn. You honk before the corner hoping other vehicles will hear you. Even if they do it's a race to be around the corner first and not be the one who has to pull over. Amazingly absurd. I had innocently handed over my life 100% to a jeep driver I had never spoken to.
The village of Satyon turned out to be a beautiful place. Satyon is mainly a farming community and Pooja's school works to educate the local children in order to prevent their exodus to Dehra Dun for school. We stayed with the english teaching volunteers at the school and spent a great afternoon and evening in the small village.
The next day was back to Dehra Dun via bus. Same roads that were sketchy as all hell in a jeep, but this time in a bus. 50X more terrifying and death-defying and 4X more puke, this time not in my face. The bus was almost wider than the roads, and more tippy than the jeep. I prepared my soul for salvation and came to grips with my mortality. Huge learning lesson and I'm so glad I lived through that trip to apply what I learned in those two hair-raising hours to the rest of my life.
We spent another night at Pooja's then left for Haridwar the next morning.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
each frame in this short-film is a picture worth a thousand words. and the words in the film aren't half bad either.
If you have the time, are looking for something to occupy your time online, like motorcycle or photography, this video is for you. Now.
itsbetterinthewind.com/2011film
A huge inspiration and great look at a culture/way of life.
itsbetterinthewind.com/2011film
A huge inspiration and great look at a culture/way of life.
An Exploration of Reevaluating What Matters.
My friend and brilliant writer Eric Adsit maintains a blog called "The Beaverator Kid" and the online Zine/life-publication "A Dirtbag's Guide To Whitewater." In the latest issue of "Dirtbag" he writes on "reevaluating what matters" in the world of kayaking. He does a smashing job of pinning down the essence of what kayaking should be/really is all about, where it is now (not exactly where it should be) and how we can get back to the roots of our (niche) sport. Introspection, analysis, and constant evaluation and reevaluation are his prescriptions (extrapolated a bit by me). I believe we need to practice the aforementioned actions not only to stay true to the nature of our sports or activities in life, but to remind ourselves of the meaning we put into our lives in general. No matter what our activities are, kayaking, religious practice, martial arts, fine arts, other sports, etc. we need to be reminded of why we started doing what we do, why we love doing it, and how we shall continue to do what we love and pass it on to others in the future with the right sentiment.
My time in India has been huge for this. Not necessarily for the reevaluation of activities/hobbies of mine, but a reevaluation of life in general. India has been/has given me a huge lens pointing inwards to my core. My experience here has been quite conducive to introspection, (personal and extra-personal) analysis, evaluation and reevaluation. I've learned lessons on life and (re-)affirmed how I want to live. I can't wait to return home to apply these lessons to everyday life. I was super happy with my life back home in the states. No doubt about that at all. I was happy with my school, my friends, my family, my philosophies, my world view, my outlook on life, my activities, my job, everything. So why drop it all and go to India?? Well, maybe I forgot WHY I was happy. Perhaps I had become distanced from the root essence of my happiness and drive in life. I needed some contrast, something to put my life back home in perspective. It was time for a reminder, a reevaluation of what matters.
For me, solo traveling is conducive to introspection. And being here (in India, such a different part of the world/way of life from the west) has allowed me to look deeper into myself and the nature of my happiness (back home in the west) than almost ever before. What I want from/how I want to live life seems clearer to me now than ever before. What was the root of my happiness? Is it enough to be happy without knowing WHY you're happy? Or, is it enough to be happy without knowing where that happiness really comes from? I wasn't happy only because of the activities I did or who I was doing them with (although that is a HUGE part of it). For example, kayaking isn't a happiness pill for everyone. That is, it isn't guaranteed to make everyone happy. It isn't about what you do, but WHY you do it. My activities, like kayaking, still make me very happy by just doing them, but why? I'm happy because of the reasons behind why I do things. Doing activities I do still makes me happy, almost automatically. Every time I sit in my kayak, strap into my snowboard, or fire up my motorcycle I'm transported into a state of bliss just by doing that action. I'm not necessarily constantly evaluating why it is that that action makes me happy. The sound of my motorcycle still makes me happy even if I don't evaluate the reasons behind why it does so. But sometimes, we need reminders because our activities become routines. Our privileges become day-to-day activities. In daily life in the west we are immensely privileged to be able to do what we love almost whenever we want. So we get into the routine of just doing what we love all the time because we can. After a while we just do them because we do them because we can do them. Compare slashing carves (snowboarding) on the first day of the season to the last day. Different, no? Why? On the first day of the season are we somehow closer to the essence of why we love snowboarding than on the last day? We get tired, and distanced from that essence as snowboarding becomes routine. Same with life. Life gets routine. Not that it falls into an unhappy routine or miserable, melancholic state of being. We're not talking full on existential crisis. Although that could happen without periodic revaluation out of the context of your routine. The routine is still very much pleasurable, but we get away from the essence of the pleasure, of the happiness. I'm not saying one needs to live a purely spontaneous, adventurous, unorthodox, etc. life; it's just important to have a break from routine once in a while to remind us of why we're happy to live in the routine we do.
You see this on different scales.
I say, "I snowboard because I love it." But after doing it every day for an entire winter do I get even the slightest bit jaded? Yes. Why did I really start snowboarding? What drew me into that sport. Was it about getting a mid-jump glamour-mug-shot up on facebook or youtube? Or was it about the nurturing look-out-for-everyone attitude of the shredding community? Or how about being in nature? I don't snowboard because "It's just what I do." I wish to look upon my snowboarding (as a metaphor for life and everything in it) with the eyes of a beginner. Of a newbie to the sport, or someone shredding for the first time in months. Thinking, "I shred because of all these deep reasons that tickle me to the core of my being." We know there's a deeper reason to why we do things in there somewhere, we've just done what we do for so long that we somehow get away from the essence of that initial reason. The true essence of WHY we do what we do. I think we need periodic breaks from doing what we do to help us stay true to the reasons why we do them. Snowboarding has it's seasonal break. As does kayaking, etc. But life in the west! Life goes on, non-stop, 24/7/365. So, a trip to the other side of the world has proved a good way to help me stay true to the essence of my life back home. You see, different scales.
I don't need to seek anymore, at least, for now.
It's hard to search for the essence of happiness in the very context in which you wish to find it. Like snowboarding, I crave it more and know why I love it more in the off-season. The summer is an essential reminder to why I shred. Being removed from what you love helps you understand why exactly you love it. Like evaluating why you love snowboarding in the context of summer. It might be hard, after snowboarding all season, to evaluate why you love snowboarding in the context of snowboarding everyday and having done so for months. And like coming to India. Like life back home and trips abroad. Coming to India, as I know understand, wasn't about coming to India. I.e. I didn't just come to learn about this specific nation/place/part of the world. My trip has been about taking a break from life back home and being able to reevaluate what matters in the context of home from the new perspective of this very different context.
I can dwell.
I'll return home, to school, to my activities, with a new vigor and "lease on life" and the ability to see to the core of my happiness, to really understand why I'm happy and why doing what I do makes me happy. I feel like I'll really be able to "be on my grind," "go hard" with confidence and invest in life 110%. By doing this, I'll be happier, more appreciative of everything, and more satisfied with my life in general than ever before.
My time in India has been huge for this. Not necessarily for the reevaluation of activities/hobbies of mine, but a reevaluation of life in general. India has been/has given me a huge lens pointing inwards to my core. My experience here has been quite conducive to introspection, (personal and extra-personal) analysis, evaluation and reevaluation. I've learned lessons on life and (re-)affirmed how I want to live. I can't wait to return home to apply these lessons to everyday life. I was super happy with my life back home in the states. No doubt about that at all. I was happy with my school, my friends, my family, my philosophies, my world view, my outlook on life, my activities, my job, everything. So why drop it all and go to India?? Well, maybe I forgot WHY I was happy. Perhaps I had become distanced from the root essence of my happiness and drive in life. I needed some contrast, something to put my life back home in perspective. It was time for a reminder, a reevaluation of what matters.
For me, solo traveling is conducive to introspection. And being here (in India, such a different part of the world/way of life from the west) has allowed me to look deeper into myself and the nature of my happiness (back home in the west) than almost ever before. What I want from/how I want to live life seems clearer to me now than ever before. What was the root of my happiness? Is it enough to be happy without knowing WHY you're happy? Or, is it enough to be happy without knowing where that happiness really comes from? I wasn't happy only because of the activities I did or who I was doing them with (although that is a HUGE part of it). For example, kayaking isn't a happiness pill for everyone. That is, it isn't guaranteed to make everyone happy. It isn't about what you do, but WHY you do it. My activities, like kayaking, still make me very happy by just doing them, but why? I'm happy because of the reasons behind why I do things. Doing activities I do still makes me happy, almost automatically. Every time I sit in my kayak, strap into my snowboard, or fire up my motorcycle I'm transported into a state of bliss just by doing that action. I'm not necessarily constantly evaluating why it is that that action makes me happy. The sound of my motorcycle still makes me happy even if I don't evaluate the reasons behind why it does so. But sometimes, we need reminders because our activities become routines. Our privileges become day-to-day activities. In daily life in the west we are immensely privileged to be able to do what we love almost whenever we want. So we get into the routine of just doing what we love all the time because we can. After a while we just do them because we do them because we can do them. Compare slashing carves (snowboarding) on the first day of the season to the last day. Different, no? Why? On the first day of the season are we somehow closer to the essence of why we love snowboarding than on the last day? We get tired, and distanced from that essence as snowboarding becomes routine. Same with life. Life gets routine. Not that it falls into an unhappy routine or miserable, melancholic state of being. We're not talking full on existential crisis. Although that could happen without periodic revaluation out of the context of your routine. The routine is still very much pleasurable, but we get away from the essence of the pleasure, of the happiness. I'm not saying one needs to live a purely spontaneous, adventurous, unorthodox, etc. life; it's just important to have a break from routine once in a while to remind us of why we're happy to live in the routine we do.
You see this on different scales.
I say, "I snowboard because I love it." But after doing it every day for an entire winter do I get even the slightest bit jaded? Yes. Why did I really start snowboarding? What drew me into that sport. Was it about getting a mid-jump glamour-mug-shot up on facebook or youtube? Or was it about the nurturing look-out-for-everyone attitude of the shredding community? Or how about being in nature? I don't snowboard because "It's just what I do." I wish to look upon my snowboarding (as a metaphor for life and everything in it) with the eyes of a beginner. Of a newbie to the sport, or someone shredding for the first time in months. Thinking, "I shred because of all these deep reasons that tickle me to the core of my being." We know there's a deeper reason to why we do things in there somewhere, we've just done what we do for so long that we somehow get away from the essence of that initial reason. The true essence of WHY we do what we do. I think we need periodic breaks from doing what we do to help us stay true to the reasons why we do them. Snowboarding has it's seasonal break. As does kayaking, etc. But life in the west! Life goes on, non-stop, 24/7/365. So, a trip to the other side of the world has proved a good way to help me stay true to the essence of my life back home. You see, different scales.
I don't need to seek anymore, at least, for now.
It's hard to search for the essence of happiness in the very context in which you wish to find it. Like snowboarding, I crave it more and know why I love it more in the off-season. The summer is an essential reminder to why I shred. Being removed from what you love helps you understand why exactly you love it. Like evaluating why you love snowboarding in the context of summer. It might be hard, after snowboarding all season, to evaluate why you love snowboarding in the context of snowboarding everyday and having done so for months. And like coming to India. Like life back home and trips abroad. Coming to India, as I know understand, wasn't about coming to India. I.e. I didn't just come to learn about this specific nation/place/part of the world. My trip has been about taking a break from life back home and being able to reevaluate what matters in the context of home from the new perspective of this very different context.
I can dwell.
I'll return home, to school, to my activities, with a new vigor and "lease on life" and the ability to see to the core of my happiness, to really understand why I'm happy and why doing what I do makes me happy. I feel like I'll really be able to "be on my grind," "go hard" with confidence and invest in life 110%. By doing this, I'll be happier, more appreciative of everything, and more satisfied with my life in general than ever before.
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