Monday, April 26, 2010

Asian Spiritualism to the Roots of Western Civilization

Monday April 26, 2010

Indian Enlightenment

I opted for another night at LeMeridien, an upscale hotel with amenities like A/C that make a Western traveller feel more civilized in a country where the term ‘amenities’ extends just short of toilet paper. I headed into Kochine to see some of the shops and came across this interesting silk shop where Indian women shops for Saris (click for video).

Hired a taxi to take me 2 hours to Thrissur to chase Amma’s tour of the Indian state of Kerala and meet her followers firsthand. Amma is to India’s Hindu population what the Pope is to the Christian world. I checked into Hotel LuLu, situated next to the Orphanage where Amma would be leading prayers tomorrow morning. After putting down my bags, I came down to the hotel cafe for a bit of lunch.

I felt like I was in a sea of angels. I wasn’t awash in revelation, I was just surrounded by 100 Westerners dressed in white cloaks. In the small cafe which served Palak Paneer and assorted chutneys it felt a bit like misplaced holiness.

I think that it was Maura who invited me to join her table for lunch that afternoon. She was frocked in white, like the other minions. When I see white people in white robes the effect isn’t the most promising...I think cult or klan, and neither instills much confidence. But Maura was nothing like what I expected. The Californian turned Amma-follower had been staying at Amma’s Ashram in India for a few weeks. My conversation with her was logical, and I sensed that I could trust that she would be a good guide for the next morning’s encounter with “The Mother of India”.

Over my 2 days in Thrissur I would share hours of conversation with Maura, visiting a n exhibition in town and talking about signs/omens that she believed she started receiving from Amma beginning after she had received Darshan (a hug and prayer) from Amma.

The stories were warm stories of tests of charity and selflessness that could find their way easily into a Reader’s Digest. They had endings that were happy, but were much different from what I thought they would be. One story began with her mentioning that she had always wanted to fly somewhere on a first-class ticket. A friend had offered her a trip to India with her on a first-class buddy pass. To take the trip, she had to had to decline a previous promise to a friend to travel with her to India. The friend was too weak to travel alone and would not be able to take the trip without Maura. The short story is that she felt Amma’s voice in her head and decided to decline the first-class passage and travel with the sick woman. She earned respect from both women and herself, and she sees all her good fortune as a result of similar decisions.

When you believe that you are receiving message from a divine power, be it a woman or g-d, you pay more attention to your gut and judge your own actions by a different measure entirely. You become more much more accountable. You also appreciate your blessings more when you believe they come as a result of those positive decisions. It would be easy for me to make an irreverent joke here, but the truth is I do believe in the power of spirituality and I think it’s wonderful to see people benefit from believing that they are a part of something more than themselves as an individual.

Maura told me that I would be receiving Darshan tomorrow and that I would need to be at the ceremony early in order to get a token to hug the saintly woman. At 6:30am I dudded-up in my white linen outfit and headed out in the 105+ degree heat to see Amma. The outdoor morning prayer lasted about 7 hours, consisted of heavy-duty repetition of mind-altering mantras, burning of camphor, placing of flower petals and burning oil, complete with the recitation of the 1000 names that the Hindus have for G-d. I was sweating profusely with 15,000 of my closest indian friends, waiting for my most treasured Darshan hug. (Click here for a video I filmed). I also believe G-d has a sense of humor, and this somehow got he and I even in some karmic poker game.

I was queued with the Westerners at the beginning of the line, I handed over my ticket and Amma gave me a big hug, the kind that only a person with some girth in their mid-section can offer. She said something like “My Darling, My Darling, My Darling” into my ear, and then it was done. The thing that make this different from my other encounters with large women is that she also handed me a small bag of ashes that she’d blessed. I’m told that mixing these with water offers some spiritual curing power. I would like to believe that it works as something more than a cure for a hangover.

I was assured afterward by a few friendly faces that often the effects of receiving Darshan are not always immediate, but I could feel different at any time. I’ll be sure to keep all apprised of when I feel my Darshan start working. While I am skeptical, I am also hopeful. Why not?

After Amma, I decided to have an Ayuervedic doctor press my spiritual buttons and work on my sore shoulder. He smacked the hell out of my back for an hour, treated me with healing oils and told me that I needed 14 more days of this treatment to be cured. He also recommended yoga. I’ll opt for yoga. Spent a few minutes comparing the US with India with the doc’s son...India has something like 13 languages while we only have 2 main languages (and we bitch like hell when we have to hit 2 for English, can you imagine waiting for your language if it’s the 13th option on the automated service?), and while India is smaller than the US, it’s population is 4 times that of the US. The Indians also believe that audible belching and flatulence is appropriate in public places. Gotta love it. Everyone one of my cab rides had included a few random burps to make things interesting.

The heat was still exhaustive and my stomach had returned to an intolerant state. The first signs of monsoon season were evidenced by the storms of the previous few nights. I booked a flight to Mumbai/Bombay for the next morning. I had no idea where I would go from there, but I knew I needed to get moving.

When I landed in Mumbai, I went to the airport travel agency to book a ticket out of Dodge. Asia was too hot, too wet, or had too much danger, and most of Europe was blocked by a volcanic cloud of ash from Iceland. “Sir, we have a flight to Athens tomorrow morning - Air Qatar through Doha.” I don’t think I’ve ever had such a complex series of self-rationalizing Q&A with myself. As a Jew I had to ask myself whether I would be ok if the clouds shifted and I was stuck in Doha. Would they let me in - I heard that Dubai restricted anyone entering who had an Israeli entry stamp on their passport. I’ve gone skydiving, scuba diving, and I’ve hugged saints, so ok, I’ll take it.

I stayed for one night in Mumbai, which was too much. The Holiday Inn was great, but every hotel had slums literally on their front lawn. The concentration of poverty was too much to bear, children begging on every corner and the worst auto emission problem and traffic I’ve ever encountered. Feelings of clausterphobia and disgust were overwhelming.

Air Qatar is pimp’d...who’d have known. The Doha airport is also pretty amazing. I’d never heard of Doha before, but the skyline has to have the most interesting high-rises I’ve ever seen. The flight to Athens was 10 hours from point to point, including the layover.

I am Sparta

I landed in Athens 4 days ago and fell in love with this city. Maybe it was escaping India that intensified the attraction, but nevertheless, Athens is wonderful. I checked into the Hilton (where I had a view of the Acropolis) and then hoofed it 10 mins to Syndagma square, just outside the parliament building. Walked through the contemporary shopping section of Plaka and then down to Monosteraki to see the many outdoor coffee shops that beautifully add to the landscape of the city. The weather has been in the 70’s during the day and the 60’s at night...perfect. I dined on fried anchovies and a delicious blended eggplant dish served with fresh bread. It would be the start of what is my gastro-tour of Athens. (Click for video of some bazookie players I filmed in Athens)

A full night’s sleep was welcomed after nearly 48 hours on 4 hours of sleep. I woke up and hit the city full-on, lunching in the gardens just south of Kolanaki (which has lots of neat shops and art galleries). I hadn’t sauntered anywhere in 3 weeks, so it was with a sigh of relief that I could comfortably enjoy a good saunter. The park has a turtle pond, a little animal sanctuary with small birds, rabbits and donkeys, I don’t know why the mules. The atmosphere was right for a small bottle of ouzo and some eggplant salad and a little time with the Alchemist (a must read).

I headed to services in Athens’ oldest synagogue, Beth Shalom, and enjoyed meeting a few of the 30 Jews that showed up for services that night.

I decided I would setup camp here for awhile, so I’ve rented a very small modern flat in the Kolanaki area for a week. It has a great view of Athens, with a roof deck that would make most back yards jealous. I can feel like I have a neighborhood and some roots for a week.

Athens is in a state of flux right now, Greece was basically declared bankrupt and the IMF is bailing out the country with billions in funding. Anarchists protest daily and officers in riot gear are in high-alert in every major area of the city. I feel safe, but several Greeks have confessed to me that for the first time they feel insecure in Athens.

Yesterday I made some new friends at a t-shirt shop after I ran out of clean clothes. I befriended Konstas, the shop owner, who introduced me to his group of friends, in particular, his friend Tess who’s very involved in the art world here in Athens. I joined her for lunch - I had another incredible dish of eggplant with toasted goat cheese, and a few glasses of red wine to help enjoy the sunny afternoon in Athens. Tess and I began plotting art projects for Athens. We met up with Konstas and his other friends at a Jazz bar, where we all drank and danced outside with about 20 other people until 3am. The party reached it’s climax of sorts when a group of 10 Parisians started stripping to their skivvies to some French song. It turned the party up a notch.

Today I took a city tour on the open-topped tourist bus. I stopped to see the meat market and buy some fresh olives. Now I’m sitting in a quaint covered outdoor cafe enjoying a glass of wine and some snacks. Tomorrow will be another day that will evolve as it’s supposed to. Planning to leave Athens on Saturday, maybe to Santorini or Milan.

In very good spirits,
Jared

Sunday, April 18, 2010

A land of Milk and Honey

4.17.2010

In a country where sacred emaciated cows roam busy streets like stray cats, I decided it would be appropriate to restrain from meat for awhile. Frankly, it doesn’t look like there’s enough meat on the bone for a good meal in most cases. It’s been a week, and I don’t have a strong desire for a burger, so I think I’ll keep up this veg cycle for awhile. My stomach has finally settled, it seems, but I’m still reticent to return to the indian breakfasts of spiced masala. I’m quite satisfied with my favorite indian breakfast, masala chai tea and buttered wheat toast with honey. It’s a comforting way to enter the uncertainty of each day.

The heat is bordering on unbearable. Yesterday, in Delhi, the temperature reached a 52-year high of over 110 degrees (43.7 fahrenheit). Being further south and closer to the Arabian sea, I’m taking in similar temps with more humidity. My new world smells of cardemom, sweat and petrol (gasoline) emissions...which is fortunate, because it means that my own scents are lost in the atmosphere.

India cracks me up, though. From what I can tell, there’s not much joking about sexual topics, but there’s ample laughs from bodily functions...I saw this ‘poop’ ad on tv this morning (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwyLAo3DJGY) and had to share it.

After a few days in Goa, I rented a scooter for the day. I’m an idiot. I say that partially for the benefit of my Mom who will certainly remind me after she reads this. I rode 15km south from Candolim beach where I was staying to the main port town of Panjim, a bustling market city, perhaps something you might see during a crowded market chase scene of a Bond movie. There are no speed limits, stop signs or traffic lights in 99% of India, they drive on the left side of the road, and onward traffic passes in your lane within inches of your forward-moving vehicle. It is harrowing as a passenger in a taxi, a white-knuckled tourist realizes why this is the most religious country in the world. All scooter drivers invoke the name of their favorite deity - Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, G-d. I only exhaled when I arrived back at the hotel several hours after leaving.

In Panjim, I explored a small outdoor market, and briefly lost my scooter in a sea of other parked bikes. They all look alike and there’s no button to press to make it beep like I’ve grown accustomed to with my car. Fortunately, it had some characteristic scratches that I remembered.

While walking, I was approached by some young children asking for money. I offered a few candies to them and the women who quickly approached. At the same time, a very thin and quite senior swami walked by and I offered him a candy. He happily accepted, showed appreciation, and continued walking. I quickly joined him, asking if I could walk alongside in rudimentary sign language. I took a brief walk with the swami, walking through town. We exchanged positive energy, and few words besides that. It was a warm feeling that I was very happy to have experienced. I half expected that he would be walking somewhere existential like a holy temple...he was just catching the bus. Oh well, all omens can’t lead one directly:)

Back in Candolim in Goa, I made friends with a great couple, John Frank and his girlfriend Sandra, who live in Holland outside of Zandvoort, a town I had visited with my buddy Marc several years ago to see the Formula 1 racetrack outside of Amersterdam. We’ve enjoyed several meals together and have made tentative plans to connect soon. John’s invited me to join him in Turkey for a brief business trip in May, and the couple invited me to stay in Holland with them for a few days if it works into my schedule. Right now flights into Europe are grounded due to the Iceland volcano ash, so it’s anyone’s guess when that might be a possibility. It’s a real problem here, as 16,000 flights have been grounded...none going into central Europe in the foreseeable future.

Two days ago I flew into Cochin in the Indian state of Kerala, flying from Goa through Bangalore (a great airport). On arrival, I had little idea where I might stay. I went to the travel office at the airport, and asked for recommendations. While at the desk, and Indian fellow with a British accent asked where I was going. I told him that I was heading to Ft. Cochin, and he said that he was heading to the same area (about 30km from the airport).

Very quickly I established that my new pal Taru Goel lived in NY, about a block from my old NY apartment on Sullivan and Houston, where he worked in the private equity market. Taru had also been planning on going to Bangkok (but came to India because of the protests) and we were months apart in age. Another omen...I invited him to share the cab with me and offered to find a hotel with him. Midway into our drive we decided to abandon the shipping fort and try to coordinate a back-water overnight boat tour from Alopee, about 1 1/2 hours from where we were heading.

Between Taru and I, we were the ultimate urban boyscouts. We could make plans and negotiate rates in record time. We found a good 2-bedroom waterway boat with a captain, chef and mate for about $50 p/person for the night. Our meals were spectacular, and cooked according to our tastes. We talked through the afternoon and night while riding down the river about spirituality and relationships (he was just married to an American in the nearby country of Rajistan).

In our conversations about religion Taru mentioned a woman named Amma, considered the spiritual equivalent of the Pope to Hindus. Her hugs are considered to hold great emotional power. Apparently this mention was also an omen. The Divine Right retreat I had planned on visiting here turned out to be a prayer retreat rather than meditation and yoga, so I needed to find an alternative. I looked up Amma’s organization, and found that she would be returning to Kerala today from her worldwide tour. Tomorrow I will be driving to meet her at a 2 day program that she will be attending and meeting individuals. I’m told that I should expect 10-15,000 people at the program, but that I would likely have a better opportunity to hear her as a Western traveler. I hope to give Amma a hug...my Oma gave great hugs! Amma’s hugs are said to cause emotional release and many are known to cry - one person described her hug as knowing unconditional love and a feeling of pure selflessness. She is known as a living saint for her charitable work and spiritual importance (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/3136524.stm). I’ll be sure to let you know if I got a hug and whether it was memorable in the same way.

Taru and I woke around 7am to the bright sun rising out of the Alopee river. I jumped into the warm water from the side of the boat, the first from our boat in the water. The staff followed to the stairs with their small bars of soap to take their morning baths. I brought my shampoo and soap over. I cleaned off and washed my hair and then introduced the crew to the joy of shampoo. They washed their moustaches, very likely improving the smell of their entire day. Tomorrow will be a different story for them, I’m sure as the scents of india are again infused in their facial hair.

Breakfast was a nice continental feast with papadum (the crispy indian bread wafer) and toast. Our driver from the airport actually stayed on the boat with us and we were off for Ft. Cochin by 9am.

We toured the village and went to see the 500 year old synagogue on Jew Street on Shabbos morning. We had just missed services and the doors were closed. I was pointed in the direction of a woman manning a shop that said Shalom in the window. Through the window of her shop I could see her praying the daily tehilim (prayers) laying on her bed. I met Sarah Cohen, an 80 year-old Jewish woman, who said that the shul was being taken care of by she and only 2 other men in Ft. Cochin, the remains of a 500-year old Jewish community here. Here is more about the present state of the Jewish community in Jew Town (http://members.virtualtourist.com/m/p/m/16fe46/). Sarah said that the only thing that I might do for her is to send good chocolates from home. If I can find the address, I know that she would appreciate words of kind encouragement and a few treats from the US if anyone is so inclined.

I’m nested at Le Meridien hotel in Cochin - Taru has taken off for Delhi to close down the family’s apartment before leaving for New York. The food here is incredible, we had a great Indian buffet after spending a few hours at the Oberon mall observing what Indians find fashionable. I’m here writing for the morning after enjoying a great breakfast. This afternoon I’ll check out more of the city and prepare to travel tomorrow.

Still debating where I might go next. Perhaps to Thailand or somewhere a bit cooler. A lot will depend on world situations. My travels are increasingly being guided on their own, and I am enjoying living in the moment that these omens bring me to.

Mazel Tov to David and Lisa Frist, and the Barry family, on the birth of my new cousin Alexis yesterday. I am told she is doing well.

With love for my friends and family!

Jared

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

"Don't Worry About These Things" (India 2)

4.13.2010

My friends, Steve & Elizabeth, handed me ‘The Alchemist’ as a gift at my farewell dinner to read on my journey - the book makes quick work of getting to the point that the world presents omens that can guide you through life and help you to recognize your dreams & goals, if one is only open to regard these coincidences as more than chance alone. India is increasingly tapping me into the importance of considering omens, and the realization that my next move is entirely in my own hands gives me further freedom to follow these omens.

I left Delhi yesterday after a day of touring on the 11th. I explored lots of spiritual shrines and temples with the help of ‘Steve’, my guide, and our seikh driver Surrinder. (We visited Raj Ghat, the grave of Ghandi, The Bahai Lotus Temple, Hindu's Iskon Temple, Qutub Minnar, the Red Fort, India Gate, Jamma Mosque, President's House and India Gate.)

Steve, a slight Indian man in his 20’s, wore a pearl ring on his right hand. He related to me a story about how his own guru had previously prescribed a similar pearl ring to him, and instructed that if the ring should every break or chip Steve should avoid going out that day. There was bruising on Steve’s face that evidenced a recent accident. He told me that it was after the pearl cracked, on that very morning Steve was in a violent auto accident. As his story goes, he went back to his guru for advice, more certain of the wisdom of that man and fearful of ignoring the omen. This time the guru offered another ring, one that should only be worn outside of Delhi for protection, a custom that Steve now follows religiously. There are similar stories and experiences of almost every religious sect in this country, be it Muslim, Seikh, Jane, or Hindi. Odd voodo-esque Talismen hang from rear-view mirrors of taxis to ward off the Evil Eye, while some Buddha or dragon statues summon wealth or vitality for shop owners.

So far I have not met a spiritual guru to share even one simple enlightening truth with me, though I had imagined that such influences would be ever-present in this place. Perhaps I need to be in an ashram for such things, and my stay in the spiritual city of Rishikesh is just a few days away. Spirituality is ever-present, though, and I notice that every person in India holds some reminder of a holier power on or near their person - either a symbol (a swastika, star of David, Om) or flower offerings to their G-d of choice.

Yesterday I left for Goa. Having allocated 1 hour for the 30 minute ride, I was stuck in Delhi traffic for 1 1/2 hours on the way to my Spice Air flight. My driver apologized for the stop-start traffic, it made me nauseous and I tried to suppress the worry that I would not make my flight. I tried to channel that worry and recognize that I could easily make alternate plans if these fell through. I’m still a neophite at mind over matter. Fortunately, I made it with minutes to spare, reinforcing the valuable message that India is unpredictable and no amount of planning can prepare you for its eventual alterations to one’s well-conceived ‘schedule’. IST, India Standard Time, ask your Indian friends.

I made friends on the flight with an Indian child and an adult with some sweet chews I had picked up in London. Without words I sensed immediate appreciation. A Brazilian woman had asked to share a cab, while we were in line to board the plane. Initially, I explained that I was staying at a hotel and that she would need to stay at the same in order to ride in the hotel’s car. Mid-flight I had a sense that my response needed to be more charitable and sensitive. On the flight, I found her row and introduced myself, she invited me to sit down next to her. After talking with her for a few minutes, I learned that she was amidst writing her third novel, she composed violin music, and she was a teacher on holiday seeking a little quiet and some scuba-diving. Sensing her sincerity and her budget, I offered her a place to stay in my room. I offered that she could pay whatever she felt comfortable, and I would make sure that we had a second bed. She was appreciative but declined because she felt that she would be embarrassed to accept a rather expensive gift. I’m certain that the lesson was to have been more immediately responsive when I was asked for help, rather than waiting to see if the person ‘qualified’ for it. In that way, perhaps I would have had more opportunity to talk with this very interesting girl and learn something from her ambitious pursuit of her own happiness.

I arrived in Goa on time and sat in the backseat of the cab for a peaceful 45 minute scenic drive through the lush palm-seeded landscape along the coast. The Lemon Tree hotel was nice enough, and had all the basic Western amenities, namely toilet paper and A/C, which are completely uncommon to all Goan and the majority of all Indian homes.

On arrival last night, I caroused with a set of Brits, 4 living in London, 2 in Dubai and then a couple from Holland. We took turns buying Kingfisher beer in rounds. At one point, around 9pm, I left to clean up for dinner. I laid down on the bed for a moment. I suppose I knew that it would happen, but I woke up at 4 am to the sound of the television and lights at full blast. The lighter side of being up so early is that I could experience the section of Goa where I’m staying before the incessant heat of the sun and the business of this seaside state begins (roughly at 9am).

I was out on the street outside of the Lemon Tree ‘resort’ in North Goa by 7:30 this morning. Yesterday I only made it to the beach side of the property for a few minutes of sun and a chance to share a cool drink and songs with 3 hindu ladies who were hawking bracelets, shirts and massages. Since I wouldn’t buy anything from them, I offered to buy them sodas since they were keeping me company and playing along when I started singing to them.

As I was walking down the main dirt road that morning, I noticed an older woman on the opposite side of the road from me at 7:30 this morning, pulled over, fishing something from her purse, which was laid between her legs on the floor of her motor scooter. I said good morning, and instantly she said, “Hey, America? Come here!” We exchanged a few acknowledgements about Goa and the people, and she invited me to ride with her, on the back of her scooter.

I’m beginning to pursue whatever makes me happiest rather than allowing myself to consider what I ‘should’ be doing. I’m wobbly at determining what I need to make me happy, though my morning with Kathy, the 5-time Irish tourist of Goa, was a true start.
We rode 1km down to the beach, where she was supposed to meet a new friend who wanted to join Kathy for her morning walk.

Kathy mentioned that the woman asked to join her on her daily walk, which Kathy guarded as her own daily pleasure. Kathy felt sorry for the woman and conceded, but Kathy is clearly a person who does not like to let other people disrupt her happiness. Then the woman, she relayed in unabashed annoyance, asked if Kathy could delay her daily walk from 7 to 7:30 because the stranger found it more appealing. Ironically, the woman never showed up. I can’t decide whether this way of selfishly guarding one’s own happiness is toxic, or rather the healthiest way to live. Though, I believe that the time she spent with me was a pleasure to us both. She was filled with thoughts and stories (which is a quality that I envy greatly), and I listened intently and with genuine interest, which I believe was appreciated on the other end. I was curious about her life and thoughts, and she was interesting, and one of those people who can pluck life’s most interesting stories easily from her fingertips.

Even in Goa, where traffic is just a crawl compared to the busy streets of Delhi, traffic here is chaotic...stay to the left as a driver, as a pedestrian, look every way 6 times before crossing the street and even then, double-check. I say that only to remember that I mentally debated getting on the back of Kathy’s scooter, when she clearly had no helmet for herself or me. Later in the morning she would tell me about her driving record, a litany of speeding tickets that had, on many occasions, nearly led to the suspension of her driving priviliges in several countries. My own anxiety for safety was piqued, acknowledged, and then relegated to the part of my brain that is labeled ‘Don’t think about this now, or you will certainly not enjoy the experience.’

Kathy invited me to drive her scooter which I declined politely (I will never consider it a missed opportunity). She took me to her morning coffee shop, where I had my first poop on an Indian commode. It reminded me of my brother Steven’s joke about the spendthrift’s lesson of how to efficiently use one square of toilet paper. Use finger to put a hole in the center of the square, insert finger, clean offending area with finger, use square to clean finger. I never expected that I would be so close to this reality, yet here I was with a bowl with no seat, covered with an uncomfortable sweat, and there is no TP in sight. It pleased me that I was able to McGuyver some makeshift TP from small 1-ply table napkins from a drawer in the upstairs of the restaurant, where two employees were sleeping.



After my second cup of Chai, I picked up the tab for our coffee break, and Kathy drove me to see the apartment that she was considering. I sensed that maybe my opinion was a surrogate for the opinion of her children who were overseas in the US and Ireland and could not themselves offer an informed approval. I suspect I’ll be a reassuring voice to help her to make the decision to buy that condo - the building was quite lovely, and at 30,000 US, it seemed a bargain.

Amidst the sun and food, I have developed a case of Delhi Belly, and I’ve been room-bound for the last several hours. The worst thing is that I thought I was being so careful, and now that I have no idea what it was that turned my stomach into a churning, unhappy mess, and that will make me concerned about what I might have eaten when I consider meals after my tummy returns to normal. Tummy sounds happier right now, since if I was going to describe my stomach as anything fitting right now, it would be a tractor refusing a refill of sawdust or mango flavored yoghurt lassi.

I am letting myself be ok with doing whatever it is that I want to do. I am ok with wanting to be in my room for the A/C and security over the past few days. I still experience guilt about coming all this way to be alone in the hotel room, but I am learning to also acknowledge and happily accept this as my pleasure. I used today’s room time to begin a timeline of my life to track my memories, accomplishments and life events, and the lives and deaths of those important to me. (Thank you Sharon for this inspiration, and thank you Mom for filling in several of the blanks)

I’m staying at what is considered the nicest place in North Goa at about $90 a day. I also feel guilt about being here, when some part of me is insisting that I should be muddling through life in a hut without A/C and running water. I think that I’m getting through this feeling as well. I guess I cannot jump into a hot jacuzzi thinking that I will be comfortable immediately without some getting used-to.

In other lessons, I just listened to Eat, Pray, Love and recognized the folly in making another person a scratching post for physical or emotional satisfaction. Something about not minimalizing physical or emotional satisfaction resonated in me. I want to experience love in its fullest, but for the moment, I want to avoid considering relationships entirely, to see what that feels like and give myself time to consider without feeling like a timeline is being imposed.

I also took from this book that I need to explore the feeling of being alone - it’s discomforts and comforts. I need to seek my own genuine pleasures and pursue those without asking for approval or having to consider someone else. India is inconvenient, hot, and uncomfortable most of the time, it’s unpredictable, and just about the best place in the world to wreck the mantra of the planful person. That must be why so many ‘seekers‘ find themselves on it’s doorstep.

The omens are all around me. Meeting Kathy at 7:30 on a whim, getting to share coffee because her morning walk with the random stranger was cancelled. And my having the good ‘sense’ to hop onto her scooter and make a spot decision that it would be safe to follow. Omens are occasions to pursue your dream, if you call them a coincidence, you discount their power and meaning to yourself, if you allow yourself to follow them, I believe that you will find more and find it more easy to follow your own unique path - one that feels in concert with the world.

I’ve been up to the toilet 5 times as I’ve written this. Ugh. Hopefully tomorrow will be a new day and I’ll be able to stomach something without issue.

I’ll be here until Friday - it’s just turned Wednesday, and then off to Kerela by flight for some back-water boat tours and Ayuervedic healing centers which the city is known for. Then a flight back through Delhi to Haridwar and Kishikesh for some deep thinking and yoga study. I’m looking forward to this most of all.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Living in the Now

4.10.2010

Setting the stage...I’m lying down in the upscale Hilton Janakpuri in Delhi, India...typing to keep myself up a little longer so that jet lag doesn’t set in after my 17 hours of travel time from JFK.

I’m typing quickly to beat my computer’s waning battery life. The power has gone out roughly 4 times in the last two hours, and I’m assured by hotel staff that it’s just routine.

I stepped off the plane at Indira Ghandi airport a few hours ago. Getting out of the airport in Delhi, I was happy to have a driver waiting to carry me to the hotel - it’s a bit disorganized near the taxi queue and I would be a little nervous trusting a random driver. Over the 40 minute drive to the hotel, I became more concerned every few miles that I had made a poor decision to visit India. After I was convinced I had seen the poorest of India, we drove through areas that were even more ramshakle. I half expected to see Sally Struthers on the side of the road filming a new TV spot for Feed the Children.

Ok, is this odd...is India’s battle with Pakistan this severe? When the cab entered the hotel compound it was searched by three guards for bombs, given a full under-carriage mirror exam, and I passed through a metal detector and sent the contents of my pockets through an x-ray machine before entering the incredibly spacious and well-appointed 40ft. tall lobby.

Soon after arrival, I met with Mahmet, a reassuringly confident Delhi travel agent, whom I was connected to by a family friend. We met to discuss my itinerary at my hotel this afternoon. He made quick work of mentioning that I had chosen the absolute “wrong time to visit India”. The Indian native told me that it was much too hot and I had chosen a hotel in the wrong area of town to do sightseeing by foot. So much for the good news.

Given the preceding hour of travel angst brought on by the poverty tour and the high security precautions, I was reticent to leave the hotel by myself. After showering and a brief visit to the gym, I got some balls and exited the rather heavily fortified complex and walked around the corner to the open-air mall. In a crowd of thousands of very pleasant Indians, I stood out as the only white person, but at 6’3” with my Jew fro, I soon felt like the main event at a Ringling Bros. circus. Even small toddlers were transfixed on me. The attention was a bit comforting, as I drew smiles from random people as they turned to steal quick glances at me. I thought, this is going to be ok, no worries. I relaxed for the first time since arriving, and I’m working on doing more of that now.

It’s important to mention that 2 days ago I didn’t know whether I would be leaving for India or Thailand the next morning. It’s a good thing that I chose Delhi over Bangkok...BBC just reported 150 injured in clashes with Government troops in downtown Bangkok. The Red Shirts are protesting en masse (over 10,000) and have invaded parliament and are now throwing small grenades at military forces, who are returning fire with rubber bullets and tear gas. As of now, I’d rather take my chances here.

After 10 days out of the office, I’m remembering how to live in the moment after many years of focusing on ‘what next?’. My sabbatical has begun with loads of uncertainty, though I’m now relaxing into the mindset that ‘whatever the outcome, the moment is still now’.

Prior to flying to India, I spent a few days at Myrtle Beach with my folks and my incredible cousins Geoffrey and Jonathan, appreciating some quality family time. And I nested in Fayetteville, NC for Passover for a few days before and after the beach. Grandma and I got to go for coffee a few times and catch up. I even managed to make it to Durham to watch Duke's NCAA championship game at Cameron stadium with all the current students and then burn benches with them in Main Quad afterwards! The calm was interrupted briefly, when the night before my departure, my Dad and I had to call the paramedics to take my Mom to the hospital after she dislocated her shoulder following a misplaced step. No breaks, but I'm assured that her ego and shoulder are still sore. Love you, Mom.

I also spent two unexpected days in New York after deciding to delay my flight to Thailand while hoping to wait out the country’s coup. Even though I had lived in New York for a full year, two days ago I took my first stroll through Central Park. It was remarkable and I enjoyed a sense of calm and patience that I have only experienced a few times in my life. I stopped to talk with a fellow sitting on a tree stump banging out poems on his manual typewriter for tips. I met another guy who talked to me about how he ‘dropped out’ of society on his savings and lives meagerly to avoid re-conforming to society’s push to work harder & longer. I enjoyed lunch and an un-rushed conversation in mid-town with Cynthia, one of my most insightful and appreciated friends. Later that night I walked 20 blocks with my cousin David to his home, and I didn’t feel the need to hurry through it to be somewhere else.

I can say that I’m recognizing the power of living in the moment.

On Sunday I’ll be going on a city tour of Delhi starting at 8am and ending somewhere around early dinner hour. My friend Sanjay offered to introduce me to his friend who heads Biz Dev for Google India, so I might meet him for dinner. I fly to Goa tomorrow for some scuba and relaxation on the beach, then I leave for Cochine/Kerela a few days later for ayeurvedic massage and yoga hopefully dotted with inspiring conversations with gurus to keep me on the path to relaxation and spiritual renewal.