Living Intentionally

Transitioning to Home

2010-03-17T03:02:00.001-07:00

We’re home. We landed in Toronto mid afternoon last Wednesday. Home is the place where I find safety and comfort. It is a place where I come to rest. It is e where I find beauty, and love finds me. Home is where I just get to be.

I am reminded about how many times over the last couple of months I have felt at home. There has been a familiarity about my surroundings that has been comfortable. I have felt in sync with the people and comfortable communicating and interacting, despite the language barriers. I have deepened my understanding of my own spirituality and how it fits in this world. And I have broadened my capacity to make sense of cultural differences and distinctive practises. I feel solid in my primary relationship with myself and also with my life partner. And I feel strong in my own personal direction.

When we arrived from the airport on Wednesday our children who live in Toronto crowded us with their energy and love. Friends and other family members sent words of welcome and sentiments of joy that we had returned. Our spiritual community was eager to reintegrate our presence back into the group. My working relationships showered me with messages of happiness about my return. We feel loved, and welcomed and full here.

Last night my dad visited me in a dream. He wanted to be with us and we were making the appropriate arrangements to bring him here so he could stay with us. “It will be so good for him.” I said. “He’ll be with people who love him and those that make him feel wanted and welcome.” In the dream it was simple to organize the caretakers who would be there to help him, the family members who could provide loving and caring company, and medical support in case the need was there. We wanted him there with us, because he wanted it too. And we made sure to make it happen.

I have come to learn that real home comes with me wherever I roam. That is what I want to remember. India may be miles away geographically, but what it has given to me cannot be left behind. When I think about that I realize that home is within me always.

Initiation To Delhi

2010-03-12T03:45:00.000-08:00

Delhi is a mindblower! Up until now we’ve had a smattering of the sounds, the smells, the congestion of people, the bustle of shops and merchants in the different places of India where we’ve been. Landing in Delhi after another gruelling overnight bus ride has, so far, been overwhelming.

This time we ‘splurged’ by taking a ‘Deluxe’. Bus. The only difference, we’ve discovered, between a local bus and a ‘deluxe’ bus is that deluxe buses charge more. Our seats were just as uncomfortable. We still had to hold on to own backpacks. It was overly crowded, and, to top it all, our ‘deluxe’ bus broke down at about 4:00 am leaving us stranded out in the middle of the ‘highway’. Other buses stopped as they passed us, picking up some passengers at a time, depending on the number of seats available. By the time we arrived from Kullu (17 hours later) we were completely drained.

We are staying in a rugged area of Delhi called Paharganj. It is close to the Delhi Metro station, which makes everything so much more accessible. The room is clean. The people who run it are nice and it comes highly recommended by The Lonely Planet. It has a hot shower and pigeons hang out right outside our 4^th floor window.

It is hard to be objective in Delhi. There are so many sights that startle me…noises that overwhelm me and smells that intrude and nauseate me. People function from a place of pure survival. They seem to be struggling for food, for drink, for entertainment and for personal space.

There are people everywhere! The main roads are lined with men women and children sitting along the curbs in groups that look like families. Their homes (tarpaulin sheets and makeshift tents) are not far away from the curbs where they sit bent under shawls and holding tightly on to each other.

All roads are crowded. There are bicycles, cars, rickshaws, motorcycles, cows, people, dogs, carts all going somewhere. There is no orderliness. Horns blow constantly. The varieties of horn sounds make it seem like it should be harmonic, but the fact is, it is off key, overbearing and loud.

There is harshness here; a brazen behaviour that cuts to the quick. Residents are brash, letting you know exactly what they want or, at least, think they want. “Don’t forget to give me a good tip.” A taxi cab driver reminds me as he’s driving. “Money. Money. Money.” Says a 12-year-old boy as he tugs on my arm. He is neatly dressed in school uniform. It is obvious he does this often.

A girl child scurries up to our car window as we stop for a red light. Her hands clasp to the slightly opened window as she hangs lightly on the edge. She gestures, fingertips meeting at her lips “Hungry…I’m hungry. I want food. Give me money for food.” She is skilled at looking painful, destitute, with sad looking eyes that stare at me relentlessly.

Another young girl, wearing a simple blue dress that is dirty and torn sits perched on a wall outside of The Indira Ghandi Memorial Museum. She is crying. There is no one else around that seems to know her. My first, conditioned response is to go up to her, “Where are your parents?” I want to say in helping mode. Then I stop. This is Delhi. This child is probably acting. It is hoax to get money.

But what if it’s not? What if she really needs help? Her acting skill is superior, never making eye contact with me, never backing from her intention. I am convinced her mother is not far away watching her carefully, making sure she is doing it right.

I have seen men stooping by the side of the road defecating. The smell of urine is in the air.

There is no expectation of privacy…. no understanding of individual needs, and no possibility of finding solitude. People live to survive and will do anything to make that happen.

The evil here is money, not people. There seems to be confusion about values in the world. When Indians see westerners, it seems to me, many of them respond with their eyes lighting up with dollar signs. Many in Delhi, don’t see me. And, they have so much that we don’t have. I wish there were something we could do to remind each other about that.

There is a man with a rugged looking face positioned on a bicycle rickshaw. One of his legs extends in readiness to pedal. He yawns fully revealing a large space in between his two remaining teeth. He is smiling slightly as he talks with another man. They are talking quietly, gently and one at a time as the other one listens. There is calm and intensity in their interaction. There is a respect between them and wisdom about how things can work in this world.

By the time the moon has risen in Delhi the crowds disperse. The merchants pack up their goods, and the cows along the road find a place to sleep. The city quiets down without becoming silent. There is never silence here. There is always something going on.

Peace

2010-03-05T18:42:00.000-08:00

I can’t believe where I am! I find myself totally breath taken in the middle of the Himalayan Mountains. I have just finished an amazing meal and the sharp taste of garlic remains in my palette. The air is thin and crisp. I can smell the coolness of the snowy mountains.

Paul and I are beginning to plan our return trip to Canada. Before our last over night bus ride tomorrow to Delhi, culminating with our flight home, we decided to spend a last quiet day and night in the mountains.

The guesthouse is called Alliance and a French Indian who values the responsibility of being a host owns it. The food is superior. The view is absolutely spectacular. It’s completely family run, which in India, could mean the entire village is involved. 400 rupees a night (that’s about $10.00)

There is majesty in front of me. Mountain peaks, all snow sprinkled settle around the warm soothing sun directly above. Along the narrow dirt roads, Tibetan flags flap outside of the modest wooden homes, typically protected by shingled roofs of pure solid slate. Nagar is a tiny village about 1700 metres above sea level.

We spent the main part of our afternoon sitting on the ground, being silent, talking quietly together sometimes, and appreciating the vastness of absolute beauty surrounding us. It is perfect when I get to settle in to a place of nature long enough to become familiar with what I see. When I begin to recognize trees and mountain areas, I know I’m home. It’s a little like our land on Gabriola. I know the silhouette that the treetops create against the sky. I know the land.

Today, as I close my eyes I am almost convinced that I can bring this quiet home with me. I am reminded that the real quiet comes from within. It’s easier to practise in a place like India where the very nature of the surroundings and the people generate peacefulness and calm. But, for the first time I feel a sense of possibility. I want to hold on to this feeling. We are definitively on our way home.

Guru Swami Shyam

2010-03-04T19:52:00.000-08:00

The village where Paul and I have been staying is called Ghandi Nagar. The main feature of this Himalayan village is the comfortable mix of Indian and western population. The friendly and cooperative living situation is facilitated by the presence of Guru Swami Shyam and his followers. For the past 40 years he and his devotees have inhabited a large section of the village. All residents appreciate the ashram community and all co- exist with support and respect for each other.

Swami Shyam is a Guru in the true sense of the word. He is an Indian Native from Kanpur who realized his gift about 40 years ago. At that time, he travelled around the world sharing his intellect and spirit, attracting followers who became enthralled with his informal and regular teachings. His visit to Canada in 1970 resulted in a large population of Canadian born youth following him wherever he went. Through his guidance they sought deeper insight in to self as well as a meaningful spiritual connection. They followed him to India where the IMI Ashram (International Meditation Institute) was founded.

I have heard about Swamiji for many years. Several of my friends have been devotees of his and either lived in Kullu or regularly visit here. I have read some of his teachings, heard his music, and seen many pictures. Still, I did not know what to expect. My concept of Guru is probably way different from that of most people. I tend to love people regardless of how famous they might be. I love though; I don’t revere. Famous people are no more deserving of love and respect than strangers I meet. It is not the least bit interesting for me to meet someone famous just to shake his/her hand. If, on the other hand, I get to meet someone, spend time and conversation with opportunity share each other’s thoughts and ideas…. that’s something else!

Our time with Swami Shyam has been amazing! At our first official meeting he welcomed us publically and repeatedly in front of his audience. We left that first satsang feeling inspired and completely included by Swami and by his community of devotees. After that first satsang, he invited us to tea where he shared more teachings with just 10 selected people. Paul and I became the reason for a gathering and were showered with attention from the Guru and his devotees. We joked with each other some, and then, as the tea was finishing, we hugged and laughed together. The others at the tea were flabbergasted! Apparently, Swami Shyam does not hug! I really felt a very personal connection with him. Even though when he speaks it is from an intellectual, not personal perspective, I felt a personal sense of understanding between us.

We went to satsang every day. Sometimes there were some really motivating words that Swami spoke. He would speak, sometimes for hours, and his followers sat silently, listening to every word with anticipation and overwhelming expectation and love. I learned a great deal from listening to Swamiji. And sometimes he spoke way beyond my realm of understanding. It amazed me to see his followers listening, many with mouths dropping, nodding heads in agreement, with their eyes sparkling in absolute awe. And I didn’t even get it!

This morning was supposed to be our last morning in Kullu. Beth walked quietly in to our room before 7:30 to let us know that Swamiji called to invite us out for breakfast. “Get in a car”, he said, “and meet me at The Span Resort.”

Within 20 minutes we were out the door in a hired car driving towards Manali. We arrived at the resort where Swamiji and 4 other people were waiting. We had breakfast and Swami was still in his ‘satsang’ mode, but it was intimate and personal and gave us an opportunity to know each other more. he spoke to us about attachments and meditation and oneness.

Paul and I had bought Swami a bell as a gift of gratitude. The bell is a reminder of the unstruck sounds; those ideas and realizations that we strive for in our lives. The inner voices that we each have, the discovery of self through the loud sounds of silence through meditation. And as part of my presentation of the gift I showed Swami that I also bought a bell for myself that I intend to use in my teaching. And that every time I hear it I will think about him. “I hope you will also remember us”, I said to him. No doubt he will…even at 86 he is sharp, perceptive, very smart and intuitive. And there is no doubt, he has grown to love us both!

After breakfast the rains began in earnest. We drove back to Kullu feeling a bit euphoric. I was thinking about not going to our final satsang. Paul convinced me to go. I did so reluctantly. It was cold and rainy. I was tired and cranky and I I realized we might not be going into the mountains. But I went anyway.

It was an experience I’m so glad I didn’t miss! At the end of the satsang, Swamiji called us both up to the stage. He presented each of us with a shawl as a gift from him. There was emotion and hugs (again). I know from others in the community that that no one ever hugs Swamiji. It is a very strict environment where every action is carefully orchestrated and, Swami’s schedule and choreography is pre arranged! When we were accepting the shawl, I asked Swami if we could hug. He said "Yes, definitely. You are beautiful" And we hugged, sincerely. That was the best gift of all! I really love that guy. I feel blessed…once again.

The Kullu Valley

2010-03-03T10:03:00.000-08:00

The Kullu Valley is in Northern India within the depths of the Himalayan Mountains. Here I feel a sense of awe. Mountains tend to do that that to me anyway. In India the intensity of that feeling is deeper, stronger and heavier.

Our friends, Jerome and Beth live here. They are followers of the Swami Shyam. I have heard about this Guru for many years. He has been a teacher for many of my friends who have spent years living or travelling with him. We have several connections with people who live in this ashram. Coming here was not only about Jerome and Beth, but we came baring hugs and messages for many people in the ashram as well. The bus ride to get here was brutal. We ended up on a local over night bus. The seats were old and dilapidated. The space was packed with people travelling from one stop to another. There was no room for our backpacks and, in the night time darkness, the roads were winding and narrow. I was tired, frustrated and very uncomfortable. It was cheap though and we arrived, in tact, at 5:30 am.

Jerome and Beth met us with delicious hot coffee, warm smiles and a cozy free schedule for relaxation and catching up. We felt landed and welcomed. People from the ashram began to phone with words of welcome and invitations for tea, pancake breakfasts, dinners or lunches. We began to feel overwhelmed with invitations.

Saturday morning we joined everyone for Satsang with Swami Shayam. Before the Guru arrived, the people in the audience invited Paul and me to our front row seats with huge smiles and hugs and words of joy. Swami came in and sat on the stage and immediately began with words of unconditional love and welcoming. He wore dark glasses throughout the entire hour and a half and laughed boisterously and spoke gently.

The celebration of Holi also occurred during the weekend. Holi is a festival of colour. Up until today you could purchase small bags of powder of various colours from local shops and vendors. After purchasing the powders, people mix them with water to make liquid dye. We have been warned about walking down the streets to avoid being squirted with toy guns and becoming covered with the various colours. Each colour represents different qualities wished upon the receiver. Pink is friendship. Orange is progress. Blue is sensitivity, Red is Prosperity. Green is Happiness.

Paul is happy because there are many musical instruments for him to play. Since we decided to travel without a guitar, there are times when he experiences withdrawal! Jerome organized a musical coffee house with people from the community. We had dinner and played music. Paul got to play a keyboard and Jerome put together a drum set. There were enough shakers and bells and sticks and chimes for everyone. It was a lot of fun and a rare opportunity to play with and listen to western music since we’re in India.

Yesterday Beth, Jerome, Paul and I took a day trip to Neggar and Manali. It was such a fantastic day together and being in the mountains was so inspirational, Paul and I decided to take off tomorrow, from Kullu and spend some time in the Himalayas before heading to Delhi and our final stretch of travel in India. It has been a fantastic experience here.

Getting Ready to Leave Rishikesh

2010-02-25T23:08:00.000-08:00

People walk. I try to imagine where they are all going. There are two main bridges connecting the shores of the city of Rishikesh. Hundreds of temples attract the spiritual seekers. Some of the temples are simple with rudimentary caves and an adorned statue with fresh flowers and aromatic incense burning. Others are as elaborate as large hotels and, instead of accommodations, you can find a series of small rooms for each deity or God. People flock to these temples.

Delicious foods are available in the many restaurants that hide in alleyways and along the open shores of the Ganges. Rooftop cafes offer Indian dishes as well as Israeli, Italian and Chinese. Most restaurants are half empty. Most of the people are just walking.

The façade of the cliffs are crowded with cement structures of varying colours. Pink, Green, blue, yellow are not unusual colours for buildings here. They are homes, schools, restaurants, stores, and temples. There is no organization to what you might find anywhere. Everything is everywhere. And people just walk.

The stores amaze me! There are rows and rows of shops that line the narrow roads. Many are contained in large garage areas of people’s homes. One small stall after another, each one offering basically the same merchandise. I just don’t understand how people make a living. I mean…how many plastic buckets are people buying anyway? But I think my western concept of ‘living’ interferes with that understanding. Because, the fact is, there are no ‘For Sale’ signs anywhere. There are no shut down windows, and I haven’t seen any “going out of business’ sales. Merchants sit peacefully in front of their shops, open to sell. Everyone….and I mean everyone is smiling.

In Rishikesh, the food is pure (satvic). We haven’t found any place that sells meat or fish or chicken. You can’t get a glass of wine or a bottle of beer anywhere!

The only way I can explain the people is by acknowledging that they live on a different plane. They are grounded in Nature, relying on cosmic energy. It isn’t even about reliance. It is a simple, calm and satisfied observance.

Beggars sit with their palms outreached. I believe it is as much about giving as it is about receiving. Sincere smiles and a heartfelt “Namaste” are offered even when I pass without contributing. And it isn’t just some of the people. It’s most! Almost all!

The other day, Paul bought some bananas. The seller didn’t have any change. “Hold on a minute”, he said. Paul watched him approach the nearest beggar for change. Go figure!!!! Only in India!

We’re leaving Rishikesh and moving on to the far north…..the Kulu Valley.

Hotel Shikhur in Rishikesh

2010-02-23T05:41:00.000-08:00

We have really settled in to our space in Rishikesh. We live in a simple room on the top floor of a small hotel on a main road. We have our own private balcony, and a comfortable bed. There is lots of water, both hot and cold. The spouts come out of the wall like a sink and so we have to fill a large bucket with water and take what we call a ‘bucket shower’. The idea of having hot water whenever we want has become a luxury. Who cares how it gets over our bodies.

Our daily rate is 250 rupees (about $6.00)

Directly across the street is a small restaurant called The Flying Tiger. An American woman from Chicago, Beverly, owns the place. She makes the best food! She calls it Yogi food and it is consistently great! Everything is cooked by gas, with one electrical plug, used exclusively for a kettle. Beverly makes really good coffee and the best chai in town! And…. she’s a great person. It is definitely a hang out. We are there every morning for breakfast and now she expects us and has my coffee all ready by the time we arrive!

There is a community of travellers who meet regularly too. We see the same people from time to time and place to place. There is a familiarity that is established that is very unique and special. We are making new friends with people from all over the world. Interesting conversations and some fun times happen regularly.

Our morning Satsang with Prem Baba is enriching and energizing. It begins at 10:30 with meditation and chanting. The energy starts calmly and allows for deep intraspection. Then Prem Baba shares his thoughts. There is something everyday that I find profound and beautiful. He is teaching me a lot.

The satsang concludes with about 45 minutes of music and dancing and more chanting. I find myself making up Hebrew chants to replace the Sanskrit messages which I don’t understand and, when I do understand them, they just don't move me. I have learned that Sanskrit, like Hebrew, is one of the ancient languages. I think there are many words that are similar between the two. For instace Om and Shalom, or Nemaha and Neshama. So I often translate the Sanskrit in to Hebrew and it becomes so much more meaningful for me. The chanting after satsang is so energetic and joyful with dancing and laughing with the group!

The afternoons Paul and I do various activities like strolling into temples and purchasing presents from local merchants. Yesterday we took a day trip into Haridwar to view the Harkipheiri Ghat. We travelled by local bus and walked to the ghat. We sat for the afternoon watching Hindus from all over India splash and play while immersing themselves in the holy water. They are such proud and humble people! Several of them came to sit with us and were eager to explain the practise. The people are so amazing!!!

We are looking forward to trekking into the mountains of the Himalayas. There are several temples and monuments and gorgeous waterfalls to explore.

We’ve discovered a couple of good Yoga classes and we’ve fallen in to a very comfortable routine in the evenings before our dinner. Paul even practises on his own sometimes. I usually prefer the encouragement of a teacher and the support of the community in a class. But I’m also open to practise with Paul on the roof of our house overlooking the city and the Ganges. Not too shabby!!!

There are Internet cafes right downstairs too. I know! I know! I really ought to be able to disconnect more. But, quite frankly, I love being able to feel close to my home of family and friends!

I get so many messages from people who are reading my blog. I so appreciate your love and your desire to know what’s going on. And I also love writing! How fabulous I feel to have the time and inspiration to do so. One of our children wrote to say that he couldn’t understand how I have so much time to have the adventures we’re having, and the time to write about them too.

HAIKU

2010-02-20T22:55:00.000-08:00

She said Namaste

And waved calmly from the well

As I passed her by

Colourful sunsets

I listen to India

Yellow, pink and blue.

Ganga Arti in Rishikesh

2010-02-20T05:57:00.000-08:00

The tears flow. They are tears of honey, I now understand. Just like when I am with my loving community at shul or sitting with my family around our kitchen table. They are tears of sweet honey.

Prem Baba started Satsang this morning with these words, “It’s only when you are empty that you can find the heart and put into practise what it tells you.” And “Relationships are the university of life.”

As we travel we transform our relationships in the world. Even our familial relationships strengthen as we separate and develop our selves as individuals. This city of Rishikesh is full of relationships and I am reminded of the chanting of “Shanti, Shanti, Shanti” My heart is with me always and I am in perpetual pursuit of what it tells me.

Tomorrow Paul and I will travel by local bus to Haridwar where the festival of Kumbh Mela is occurring. The festival is similar to the Haj in that literally millions of Hindus migrate to the Ganges to bathe and symbolically wash away sins. It is a goal for Hindus to make this pilgrimage at least once in a lifetime.

At dusk each evening there is a ceremony that takes place on the shores of the River. It’s called Ganga Arti. Last night we participated.

As we approach, I can hear the tambourines clearly. The voices clearly audible through the loudspeakers sound untrained and unpractised. I find the drone a little annoying. As the sun sets people gather along the shores. Others sit drinking lemon soda and lassies in cafes and restaurants overlooking the water. Rishikesh is completely dry. You can't get a beer or a glass of wine anywhere.

There is a fire burning on the opposite bank from where we sit. I watch as the a man lights his fire immediately after bathing in the waters. Now, he too sits and waits for the ceremony to begin.

The sun has set. The Sadhu washes his hands in the river. I hear a clear sound from a conchshell, just like that of a shofar, blow three distinct types of sounds. The ceremony begins. As the music continues a child of about 3 years old, a woman dressed in a bright yellow sari and 4 young men gather at the table to light the small candles perched on a miniature boat like structure. Cowbells are clearly rung. It is similar to the bells I hear at the various temples I’ve visited throughout India. I am loving the music from the harmonium.

As I glance to my right, I witness a young woman preparing her little candle as she bends down and gently pushes it into the Ganges. The leaders of the ceremony do the same with theirs. The small fires wind their way in one direction. It is the direction that the river flows.

I am thinking of Taschlich. How much we are the same. In India there is an expression for this. “Same… Same…and different”. I think about rivers. They are forever flowing. They are infinite and eternal and the water is life preserving. It is a safe place to put our sins.

As the fires flow, the music stops suddenly, people disperse, and it is all over. Tomorrow we will experience the same in Haridwar.

Satsang in Rishikesh

2010-02-19T20:00:00.001-08:00

It seems as if we’ve landed again. What I mean by that is we have found another place where we feel content and ‘at home’. We are in Rishikesh. The Ganges River begins here.

The Ganges is considered by Hindus to be the holiest of waters with healing powers and religious magic. Hindus come from all over the world to tip their toes into the waters so that the magic of the flow will take away their sins forever. At any time of the day you can see people bathing at the shores or simply touching the waters with their fingertips. Many people fill small decanters with the waters to bring to their homes for healing the sick and ridding family members of sins, bringing good health and prosperity to their households.

There is an emphasis on spiritual energy here. People who love being in Rishikesh, love it because of what the city has to offer. Everywhere you look there is evidence of Yoga, meditation, music, devotion, inward pursuit and understanding.

Life happens here as it does in other cities, and yet, there is something extra that I feel when I observe my surroundings. People of all cultures wander the narrow streets seemingly on their way to somewhere. As I look I notice crowds of people walking in one direction. That might be because there is only one road in Rishikesh. It is like a main artery to and from the heart. There are veins that connect, but the veins are narrow and lead in alternate directions. Ultimately, you must return to the original source. So people generally walk to where they’re going by using the main artery.

Down the narrow pathways are hundreds of temples or shrines offering opportunity to gather with others in conversation or prayer. Today we even found a Chabad House and, of course, we chose to meander down that narrow pathway. It turns out there is no one there anymore and the place is closed. That was a disappointment for me because, ultimately I find my complete spiritual place grounded in my Judaism and I’m really comfortable there. It would have been nice for me to take the joy I am feeling and connect with other Jews.

For me, that joyful spirituality is significant. We had just participated in a satsang gathering with a Guru, Prem Baba. This blog post is an attempt to describe that experience.

The room we entered at his Ashram is a large white walled auditorium like house with open walls and large doorways that lead out to various scenes. One such scene is a courtyard that inviting sitting and relaxation amongst flowers and plants and natural pottery and simple décor. Another direction overlooks the incredible spectacle of the flowing Ganges River. Along the shores I could see people bathing and enjoying the freshness of the clean clear waters that is available here because this is the primary source of the Ganges, which flows through Northern India.

Cows gather there too because they know when scraps of food will be tossed along the roadways that boarder the River flow.

On the ceilings and along the walls of the room are simple creations of stain glass art. The ceiling ones are exactly like the stain glass design that Seyna made for Darchei Noam when Julia and Lindsay had their Bat Mitzvah in 2001. I wondered if she had seen these because they are truly just like the one she did, right down to the representation of the Magen David symbol. Right along the border where the wall meets the ceiling there are stain glass tulips. That’s all that is in the room. It was simple, colourful and perfect.

The real energy comes from the people who are there. I would say there were about 200 of us. Live gentle music, (Paul calls it the Enya music of India) plays amongst the crowd.

While the music and chanting continued, Prem Baba entered the room. The crowd stood in reverence. He sat without saying a word. And stayed like that for about 10 minutes. With his hands in prayer, he scanned the room with his eyes and offered a gentle smile. It seemed as if he made eye contact with each and everyone of us.

He had my complete attention. I was smiling and felt exhilarated.

In Portuguese, and with an English translator, he then spent the next hour teaching. It was a talk that addressed a specific query from one of his followers. And the response that he gave was beautiful.

I was truly wowed! When his talk finished, many people lined up to say thank you. In India, generally, people prostrate themselves before the Guru and, while bowing, put their hands on the Gurus feet in devotion and gratitude. I have to say that is not my style, and I didn’t want to be disrespectful by being unique. I am grappling with the Guru concept, preferring instead to remember that the Guru is within each of us. Maybe I will send him an email of thanks.

Instead, I stayed amongst the crowd. There was festive singing and dancing and honest and sincere joy. People with loving smiles and welcoming gestures just gathered to celebrate each other and the simplicity of the day. People were partying! And it went on for about an hour. By the time we left it had been 2/12 hours.

I can hardly believe that this happens everyday, but I will certainly be there tomorrow to find out! What a fantastic way to energize and approach the day.

Walking back home towards our room, the markets gave us more opportunity to experience the people. We ate warm peanuts bought from a street vendor and picked up some basic items for our room.

Yoga class today at 4:00 will be a trial for us. Our first Yoga experience in Rishikesh! If it’s as good as the satsang was, we might just be here for a while! Life is good!

Thinking of Jacquie in India

2010-02-17T23:42:00.000-08:00

Sitting in Indira Ghandi International Airport in Cochi, Kerela. Our flight to Delhi leaves shortly. There is a feeling of ‘flow’ here. It reminds me of a time when we were flying from Israel to Canada with our girls. Circumstances (I won’t go into what they were) made it so that we had a stop over in England. Jacquie, in her profound simplicity and innocence said, “Airports are so multi cultural!” She was so right!!!

She was also a great inspiration for us to be here. She visited India last year!

We’re leaving the South. Northern India awaits us.

Gratitude

2010-02-17T23:23:00.000-08:00

I have been barefoot for two days. I haven’t seen a knife and fork in the same amount of time. I think I might have gotten used to sweating. It’s so incredibly hot. The sun is powerful and glorious!

The hundreds of species of birds each sing their own song. Sometimes they just sing. Sometimes, it seems they try to sing harmonically. There is a choir of lions roaring across the lake at the Lion Safari Jungle and the cows in the nearby village of Neyyar Dam moo for attention. Ironically I feel a deep sense of peace.

The Sivanada Yoga Ashram accommodates about 400 people all here for intensive Yoga practise and meditation. There are two satsang sessions daily and several hours of chanting.

We sleep in dormitories, men and women separately. It is a very beautiful ashram atop of the Sahyadri Hills in Neyyar Dam. The lake is a beautiful reservoir where we swim.

Staying in an ashram is very cheap! 450 rupees a day (that’s $11.00!) gets us room and board, 4 hours of yoga, 3 hours of learning about Yoga, and anything else that communal living has to offer.

We arrived here by motorcycle. We rented it in Varkala because we realized that our time in Southern India is running out and, although we wanted an ashram experience we didn’t have the time to deal with trains and buses and such. Renting a motorcycle was the most economical way to get there in consideration of time and money.

Of course, two days in an ashram is not near enough. Ashram life is very strict and I would suggest that, for me, I need more time to figure out how to break the rules respectfully.

It’s been wonderful practising Yoga with so many people. There is incredible energy that is generated when hundreds of people come together for meditation. Although this particular ashram didn’t excite me with it’s Hindu emphasis. I’m not much into worshipping deities and swamis. But I have found ways of making it work for me and my beliefs and the way that I see myself in the world.

So sometimes I refrain from some of the practises. For instance, I did not prostrate myself before Ganesh so that “he would remove all obstacles that might interfere with my reaching complete success towards my intent for the day.” I also did not bow down to the Sadhu so he or she could bless me and place a bindy on my forehead.

I watched for a while as others did, however, and allowed myself to open up. And then…here is what I did do:

I closed my eyes gently and sat still while everyone was lined up in the procession.

I thought about my experience in this life.

I immediately recognized what a beautiful world we live in. I thought about the intense energy the sun provides through it’s heat. I thought about the power of trees, the beauty they provide, the sense of protection and strength they offer, and the gift of the fruits they provide. I thought about the thousands of varieties of flowers that add colour and fragrance to our environment. I thought of the many waterways that are so deep, and take us from one place to another, and of the mystery of the moon that connects us all.

I did thank God for my amazing children…all of them…Those to whom I gave birth (the very nature of birth gives us the most special of connections), my stepchildren (what a miracle it is to have the kind of relationship we have developed) and to my grandchildren with whom I share a unique and different relationship and let me love in ways I’ve never loved before. They all bring me so much joy and love and excitement and they are my greatest teachers.

I did make sure to make eye contact with Paul from across the room, share a loving smile and a grateful sort of glance. My life is so enriched because of the kind of relationship we share and all the amazing things we do together. I am regularly in awe of the simple fact they we have found each other in this lifetime. We have grown so strongly together, and as individuals.

I did think with love about my many wonderful girl friends in Toronto and in New York and all over the world with whom I am able to share unique and important contact. And about my friends in general who enrich my life with spirituality and deep meaningful conversations and fun and love.

I did send out loving thoughts to my mom and dad and two brothers who make up my first primal family and gave me the start I needed.

I grounded myself in the positive energy deep in my own soul to remind myself that I am good and that I try my best to love with integrity and compassion in a world that is sometimes difficult and challenging. I reminded myself to trust in that goodness and to believe that I do, in fact, have that love in my core.

And I didn’t even stop there. I remembered Sajee’s teachings, and I thanked the food that I eat, the books that I read, the music that I hear, and the richness that my life provides for me.

And then, as the last people in the group offered their prayers to Ganesh, I joined everyone else, in the final Om chanting. There is enormous energy generated when we chant together. When all was finished we sang for peace…..“Shanti, Shanti, Shanti”. The first ‘shanti’, a gentle chant, and is for my own inner peace. The second, slightly more dynamic, is for peace within our extended community. The third ‘Shanti’ is loud and melodic, and is for peace for all living things in the entire universe!

Namaste

Changing Plans....Again

2010-02-13T06:29:00.000-08:00

Life works it’s way through.

Unsure of what we were going to do this morning, Paul and I set out. Our plans are influenced by the fact that we have a plane ticket to fly to Delhi on Wednesday. It was, in fact, the only way we were sure to get ourselves out of Southern India. At this point, if we had our druthers…we’d just stay here. But the fact is, we are meeting our friends in the Kulu Valley, and we are also excited about seeing parts of the North, so we booked our flight to give us the incentive to actually leave. Time of departure…..7:10 Wednesday morning.

But what about the Sivananda Ashram in Neyyar Dam? We don’t want to leave Kerala without the experience of this amazing ashram. How would we ever fit it all in with the challenges of time and dealing with India’s trains and buses?

So…..we went for breakfast.

And then we rented a motorcycle!!! We’ve taken the motorcycle for 3 days which will make it easy to get to the ashram…practise Yoga…and get back to Varkala in time for our flight!!!!

The universe remains on our side!!!

Backwaters of Kerala

2010-02-12T20:31:00.000-08:00

The houseboat that’s carrying Paul and me down the backwaters of Southern India has a bedroom with a bathroom and a shower, a kitchen, and a living room. There are four crewmembers travelling with us. B.G. He’s the Captain. Chanderan is the technician in case something needs fixing. Binu is the chef, and Binesh is a trainee.

The houseboat is made of wood and bamboo. At first glance it looks like a miniature ancient explorer’s boat with the bough a symbol of some revered God or spiritual deity. From the carving to the steering wheel is a small platform. One of the spokes of the steering wheel is broken off. That doesn’t seem to deter B.G. at all.

The main area of the boat is living space offering several different types of chairs. There are chairs for sitting upright. There are a couple of loungers for reclining. Several stools and benches are available. The two chairs around the table are where we sit to eat our meals. There are no solid walls in the boat.

At first glance, the bedroom seems perfect. It has it’s own bathroom with a shower. There is enough room for a big double bed with newly placed clean sheets. The fan hanging from the wall close to the ceiling, we later discover doesn’t really work.

People have told us that taking the backwater trip is an experience not to miss. The Lonely Planet said it’s an absolute must. Debra Ekclove, a friend from our synagogue community, made us promise we would accept the extravagance and do it. We did.

I love being out on the water. The gentle breeze caused by the smooth passing through the water is calming for me. I am intrigued by life underwater. I view it as a whole layer of existence. There is another (underwater) world going on and I become a small part of it.

The scenery as we glide is dreamlike. Rice paddies cover entire peninsulas of land. I had never seen rice paddies before. They are truly gorgeous fields, neatly organized in what seems to be lakes of water. Some time I really want to walk through those fields to get a better idea of how they actually grow.

Lining the coast are the homes of village people. There are all kinds ranging from shanty shacks to cement, painted homes. Inevitably each home has a garden and backs on to the rice paddies. Periodically you can see temples. There are many, colourful and vibrant.

The villages we pass on both sides of the lake remind me that in India, there is life everywhere. It is almost impossible to escape from civilization here. There is no solitude. Even in the middle of this huge lake (Vembadnad) there are whole communities of people. Virtually they live together relying on each other for their everyday needs and extraordinary events.

Survival in these villages is basic. Rice, coconuts, bananas, cashews and various spices grow almost wildly. Fishermen leave their homes in canoes early morning to try their luck for daily meals. Local markets help villagers by providing space for selling what grows in their own land. Most villagers, it seems, stay pretty close to home for sustenance. In each village there are schools, temples, basic store kiosks and mosques. Occasionally I see a small wooden ferry transporting schoolchildren to another small island. That is their local ‘school bus’. Each village seems to be self -sufficient.

Life is simple and yet, quite complex. The emphasis is on basic survival needs. Role definitions among family members make it easy to know what to do. Women are strong. We’ve seen small frail elderly woman carrying 30 kilos of assorted fruit in a basket on her head. We’ve watched women at rivers and lakes beating laundry with muscle and vigour until the load is clean. They are totally responsible for meals, and for childcare. This seems pretty typical throughout India. In the backwaters, however, the quiet calm that exists makes women even more conspicuous in their homes.

Children are at school. When they’re not in school, they are helping at home and playing with each other.

Men….I’m not always sure what they do. In the cities many work in shops, push carts with merchandise for selling, run homestays and cook in restaurants. Many work in construction and there is a lot of construction going on throughout the country. In the cities, you can find boisterous crowds of men hanging out on the streets drinking chai and laughing with their buddies.

When I have asked why there are seldom any women out in the restaurants and hanging out in the streets socializing, the answer is “They are home taking care of the house.”

In the backwater villages, men seem to be at home too, in the fields and helping to take care of the immediate family needs.

Music plays conspicuously through loudspeakers in the different villages. We hear various prayer music throughout the day, and sometimes, sweet women’s voices accompanying workers in the fields. By 4:30 am there was chanting playing loudly, melodically droning through the speakers. Not particularly welcome at 4:30 am, but definitely an experience to hear.

Life here is simple. Each day seems the same; wash, pray eat, love, teach, pray, clean, play, pray etc. Festivals devoted to deities and Gods break up the monotony and enhance routine. There seem to be no grandiose dreams of travel, no plans for big purchases, no thoughts of premium bottles of wine or dinners out at the local gourmet restaurant. Emphasis seems to be on having enough to eat for oneself and one’s family, devotion to God and celebrating life and love with family and friends.

And again, as I ride through these villages, I know I have to let go of those biases. Unless I get a chance to talk directly to people I couldn’t possibly even guess what’s going on for them. Any of those ideas come from my own biases created from a lack of information and enhanced by input from others who also lack first hand information.

I can hear my father as I ride through these villages. “Tsk”, he would gesture. “I can’t imagine what type of life they live. How can they live like that? There’s so little for them to do. Such poverty.”

I wish my father could have seen through his own preconceptions. How did he even know what “that’ was. Knowing my dad as well as I did, I actually think he would have preferred that type of life.

P.S. Lest you think that all is rosy, I want you all to know that our night on the houseboat was a disaster.

The potential for wonderfully romantic experience, with catered meals, and a perfect natural world around us, with absolutely everything we could want at our fingertips was there.

As the darkness started to set in, the lizards began to congregate above our heads. That was manageable. Afraid that they would loose their grip from the ceiling and fall on me or my dinner, I simply moved my seat every time one was above my head. That was easy.

What wasn’t easy was when the cockroaches (more like mini buffalo) began to scurry around. That was a huge challenge. And there were many of them too!

Freaked out, we came into our room, is also the one section of the houseboat that is covered with rattan roof. It was brutally hot. That didn’t stop me, however, from covering my entire body including my head, with a sheet, every once in a while coming up for air.

I never sweated so much in my life. I probably even lost some weight that night. Our first disaster!

Cool Air and Early Mornings in Kumily

2010-02-08T06:28:00.000-08:00

Babu was waiting for us downstairs at 5:00 this morning. I’m not so good waking up early in the morning. I have a hard enough time sleeping even when I have no schedule to wake up for. The possibility of meeting up with wild elephants and maybe even a tiger was a bit exciting for me. They said there’s more chance if we go early. I went.

The moon was still strong as we began our walk. The stars were still bright. I wondered where the jeep was that was transporting us to the park entrance. We walked for about 30 minutes before I realized there was no vehicle.

Babu never faltered in his gate. The darkness was in no way a deterrent in his speed. He seemed to have bat eyes guiding him through the forest. There was no evident path. Babu used just intuition, and a sense of familiarity. I simply followed him and Paul was right behind.

As we made our way deeper and deeper into the woods, the day began to emerge comfortably. The atmosphere in Kumily is one of the characteristics of the village I am liking the most. We are very high in the mountains. There is virtually no humidity. The air is noticeably fresh and clean. The sun shines brightly. Early morning, however, the sun too is just waking up. As we walked, I was aware of the sun attempting to make her way through the mist.

We refrained from talking for most of the walk. That was nice. We even had a 15-minute opportunity to sit on a rock, overlooking the forest, able to see the towns of Kumily and the Thekkady. As the sun rose, we each sat by ourselves in meditation. The quiet, the beauty, the calm all contributed to a perfect rest.

We walked for 3 hours. Babu had no problems with the trek. We later discovered that he was 29 years old. I have to say that both Paul and I had some challenges. Several times I had to remind Babu “No more going up!” It just seemed that we always were climbing. Isn’t there supposed to be a downward path too?

We didn’t see animals. We saw lots of elephant shit though, and some of it smelled strongly. It was clear that they were there ‘just this morning’. We also looked for cobras because we saw evidence of a moulted snakeskin left behind. We picked wild chilli peppers and curry leaves. We saw some awesome sights over the hills. The sun was wide-awake before we made it back home. It was a nice way to start the day. It probably would have been just as nice if we had started at 9:00!

Travelling brings many different experiences. Kumily is nice. Paul and I are appreciating the relaxing that we’re able to do here. The women who cook at our Homestay are excellent cooks and we can just hang out on our balcony, reading, writing and just talking. We’ll just relax today. Tomorrow we move on again…..to the backwaters of Kerela.

We are all the Same...We are all Different

2010-02-08T06:14:00.000-08:00

In India mostly everyone is Indian. Now, that might sound a bit strange, but, think about it. In Canada people come from all over the world. It is common to wander the streets anywhere in Canada and see people who look different.

It is obvious, here, that Paul and I are different.

There are so few westerners walking the streets. People openly stare at us and shower us with curious attention. Yesterday, we went walking on the streets of Kumily and a young man asked if he could take our picture! What a surprise that was! And it got me to think about how homogeneous a society they have here.

I think, in Canada, we take cultural diversity for granted. I can’t imagine what a person would have to be wearing to attract my complete attention. There is so little we don’t see. We are familiar and usually comfortable with worldly attire and customs. We generally understand cultural practises and, for the most part, celebrate the rich diversity to which we are exposed.

Immigration in India is probably close to 0%. There are few people, I would guess coming to remain here. The Visa laws have recently been changed to discourage foreigners from staying too long. I understand that a 3 -month visa all that’s being offered to travellers. The buzzword about that is, that the Indian masses are concerned about westerners coming and exploiting the cheap labour and inexpensive existence. There’s probably a great deal of truth in that, but, I would think that travellers also add to the economic benefits too.

As I travel through this country I more and more appreciate the extreme differences with which we all relate to the world around us. There is uniqueness of opportunities that are offered to us as a result of the place we are born. It’s not a good thing or a bad thing. It just is. And there are benefits and challenges where ever we live. Though people are curious about me here, it’s not in an aggressive way. It’s more, “I want to know more about you.” or “Where are you from? Tell me about your country.” I’m so happy that we are travelling with a computer that stores all our photographs. It is wonderful to share pictures of our children and home environment with the people here. It reminds us, practically, that we are really all the same. We all love our children. We have aging parents. We struggle to maintain homes. There are many in both countries who don’t have everything they need. We all die sometime.

Several people in Toronto warned us about the dire poverty in India. “Why would you want to go see so much dirt and poverty?” someone asked. I find myself continuing to let go of my western biases. Observing has been more helpful than judging. I find if I’m busy trying to understand, that I miss the real person. I’d rather bend down and listen to people. If I try to figure things out, I hold back. If I open up my heart I learn more. There is a lot of joy, even in poverty sometimes, and certainly an open caring culture. So far in Southern India we have seen no police officers clearing the streets of homelessness. There is an evidence of institutional support for the handicapped, the destitute and the poor. It’s not perfect. That’s for sure. But there is a lot of good going on. I have found my interactions with people very invigorating and enriching. I have learned so much about so many.

Life is not perfect. There are many people in need without the where withal to access help. But in general, Yoga is evident everywhere in the streets; patience, compassion, selfless service and love. Not a bad way to live after all.

Mountains

2010-02-06T08:53:00.000-08:00

We’ve landed again. This time in Kumily, Kerela. Kumily is well known for its jungles with wild animals, and tea plantations. Coffee and various spices also grow abundantly here. It is a huge conservation area, relying heavily on tourism to show off the natural beauty and God given gifts.

The bus ride here was completely uneventful. We left Ernakulum on time (8:00 am) and arrived in Kumily according to schedule (2:00 pm). It was a relatively short ride. I slept some, read some, and also had a chance to appreciate the changing scenery. As I listened to R.E.M. on my iPod, I thought of Jonathan (he loves R.E.M.) and home, and felt so good.

The views along the way were spectacular as we wound our way through bustling villages into the dense forests of the mountains. I must admit there were some moments that frightened even me! It would have taken just a sneeze to shift our bus over the edge.

The place we found to stay is incredibly comfortable. It sits along the road of an uphill village. It’s called The Rainbow Inn. That could be because it is painted with about 15 different colours. It reminds me a bit of an amusement park. The people are incredibly friendly and eager to help us plan our time here. It is family run with the women cooking, the men cleaning and planning and the children doing whatever else needs to be done. Surrounding the Inn is a regular village with hundreds of huts and cabins and shop fronts. Everywhere are people with sincere smiles and words of welcome.

We had our dinner on the rooftop of the Inn and even had two beers with our deliciously homemade meal. Kerela is generally a dry state so we have not had too many beers since we’re here. So far we are finding this place perfect.

For the first time since we’re in India we have a TV. in our room. Paul is so thrilled and planning to wake up for a 5:00 am start to the Super Bowl on Monday morning.

I just hope it doesn’t interfere with our elephant ride!

High up in the mountains, Kumily is cool and breezy. Sitting on the balcony we noticed the clean air while we ate our dinner. Along with our conversation we could hear the vibrant energetic activity taking place in homes. So many homes. So many people! So much activity….everywhere. It’s a wonder there are no high rises anywhere. People just live side by side by side by side….happily!

Getting Ready to Leave Cochin

2010-02-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

This morning, riding my bicycle from my morning yoga practise with Sajee, I smiled a ‘good morning’ smile to one of his neighbours. “Good morning,” he said, “Yoga is finished for today?”

“Yoga is never finished”, I replied.

Sajee teaches a lot about selfless service. It is the same idea as tikkun olam. It is not enough to pray and commune with God. We benefit too from acting Godly. Selfless Service.

This afternoon, Sajee, Alicia, Paul and I took the local bus about 7 kilometres to the Shilpa Special School. Shilpa was a young energetic girl who suffered in her life with mental handicap. She also suffered from several attacks and diseases because she was born with a hole in her heart. Shilpa died at age 11 and her parents, (both of whom are doctors) established and created a school for mentally handicapped children to service this needy population in Kerela.

The children in the school number about 175. There are about 40 teachers all of whom have specific training in special education.

It was immediate energy as we entered the two-tiered building. There were children everywhere, some of whom could barely walk because of deformations in their legs. Many were completely non-verbal. Some had limited or no use of their upper body. Several had mongoloid characteristics. And all of them wore huge smiles and were animated in their desire to make contact with us and to play.

I had such a great time being with so many of the kids. I was able to sit with several during the hour or so we were there and just play. Making letters with clay, writing on paper together, colouring in the lines, reading books all made them happy. And it made me so happy too.

There was one large table where several special men were sitting. The school services them too. They come to school everyday and make paper bags from newspaper. I watched them for a while and then I asked one of them, Lenni, to teach me how to do it too. With Lenni’s help, I made a paper bag from newspaper. Lenni was so excited to be my teacher. I was thrilled to be his student. It just reinforces what I believe…. we are all teachers in this world because we are all learners.

I got to speak to many of the teachers and we spent quite a bit of time with the Principal. The Vice Principal invited us back. I told her if we come back to Fort Cochin for a month or so, I would love to volunteer at the school. She was so excited. I would certainly make that part of why I would come back here…..Yoga, Ayurveda, volunteering!

Paul and I are also going to arrange to purchase a bunch of tambourines, and shakers and drums to send to the school before we leave. It wouldn’t cost that much for us, and it would be such a wonderful gift for them!

We said good-bye to Sajee today. He is a special teacher and I have no doubt we will connect again. He just got an email account and he says he checks email daily so I’m sure we will be able to stay in touch. I have learned so much from him, and he has given us such a rich Yoga practise.

It’s Shabbat evening in Fort Cochin. Paul and I went to the synagogue, our second Shabbat experience since we’ve been in India. I have to say it was a better experience than the first, in Arombol. People were friendly. Mostly everyone there was a traveller. The fact is there are only 10 Jews left in Cochin and one of them invited us to dinner. That felt good. It was nice, but Paul and I decided we would decline and have a nice last dinner here on our own.

We have an early morning auto rickshaw booked for tomorrow to take us to the bus station in Ernakulum for our 6-hour ride to Thekkady. We’re going to ride elephants!!!!!

Thoughts of Cochin

2010-02-04T09:37:00.001-08:00

I have been learning how to eat with my fingers. Some who know me already know that I often eat with without cutlery anyway. I usually lift the bowl to sip my soup. I prefer picking up chicken and sticking the whole thing in mouth. At the very least, I usually go to work with chopsticks for my salad, or rice dishes.

At our Yoga dinners I eat everything with my fingers. In India, protocol identifies the right hand for eating. The left hand is supposed to be saved exclusively for toilet functions. That leaves the right hand clean and free for eating and for shaking hands with others.

I’m struggling with the fact that we have begun to plan our next move. Fort Cochin is a very special place. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Yes….the people are friendly, and loving, and welcoming. The neighbourhoods are colonial and quaint. The architecture is interesting, diverse and useful. We have found our place here between the Ayurvedic healing and incredible Yoga practice. We have made many friends here with whom we will undoubtedly remain in touch. And, I suppose there are many places in the world where I have been that I can say the same.

But there is something different about Cochin. Paul and I talked about it a bit today and here is what I think….

The foundation of Indian culture is grounded in a universal respect. The Hindu mentality relies almost exclusively on unconditional love; for oneself, for community, for nature, and ultimately, for the universe. It is a spiritual purity that drives daily life. Prayer is everywhere. Joy for life is evident while walking in the streets, hanging out on the curb sides, in the shops and markets, in homes and in schools.

The other day Paul and I were eating at a restaurant. Across the street was an elementary school and throughout the entire lunch we could hear the voices of little children singing, playing musical instruments, laughing, and reciting together. The joy of the children was oozing out of the classroom windows on to the street andthe school yard was a buzz with gorgeous little people (all girls) in simple dark blue and light blue uniforms playing together. We were overwhelmed!

As we left the restaurant, the sounds of musical instruments and children’s’ voices continued even as we passed in front of the high school section of the school. From there we could also hear noise, or what I would call ‘meaningful chatter’. It made me think of how in Canada there is so much effort to make our students sit quietly, “Don’t look at anybody else’s paper.”, “Cover your work when you’re done.” “Sit up straight.” “No talking.” “Mind your own business.” “No cheating.”

Here, it seems there is an emphasis to encourage interaction, play and cooperation. There is obvious joy, playfulness and happiness to be in school. Each time we passed a school, we experienced the same.

Today, I decided to visit some of the schools. Most of them here are religious based although children of all religions attend. Several are Catholic. One is Muslim.

I donned a short sleeve shirt and skirt and rode my bicycle from school to school (3 in all) just to share my admiration for their system with the teachers and principals. It was such a great time! Everybody I met was so appreciative of my coming in. Each wanted to know more and shared gratitude for my taking the time. The kids were the most amazing. At one school, I needed help to get through the crowds of young girls who wanted to shake my hand and talk. Again….a welcoming and friendly place! What a great place to work! What a great place to learn! With about 62 kids in each class, and several classes for each level, I can’t even imagine where all these kids live! There are just so many of them!!!

I had my last massage with Saraswathi today. We will definitely keep in touch. I think she’s about 25 years old and has a 12 year old son and a nine-year daughter. Marriages here are usually arranged and the bride and groom meet at the alter for the first time. Maybe it’s my western bias, but I seem to detect an imbedded sadness in Saraswathiy, evidenced by her curiosity and unending questions about Paul’s and my relationship. Today I found out that “Sweety” in Malayalam is muthea and “darling” is chakkara. I definitely feel a sense of camaraderie with her and I look forward to more times together in the future.

The Doctor, Sveedener, is a wonderful character with whom I have also bonded. She invited us to stay with her the next time we come. I wouldn’t be surprised if we take her up on it. I could absolutely picture us coming here for a month to focus on intensive Yoga, Ayurveda and work. Maybe even sooner rather than later.

Loving Fort Cochin

2010-02-02T20:00:00.000-08:00

The music that was coming from the Santa Cruz Basilica on Sunday morning drew me off the streets in to its doors. A fiddle, keyboards, a bass and drums sounded unusual for a Sunday morning church service. The church was overflowing with people. The brilliance of the multi colourful saris on the hundreds of women was a visual magnet. I am beginning to think that saris are like snowflakes; no two are alike. And I also think that the women in India become even more beautiful because they wear them.

I am intrigued by the combination of Catholic and Hindu practise. I recently met a nun who was wearing a sari and a necklace of the cross. I suppose it would be like a Jew practising Buddhism (Jew-Bu) and when I think about it, the way we see Godliness is all the same; treating others with respect and compassion. It’s just our basic understanding of God that differentiates us. Michael Franti wrote a song that says, “God is too big for just one religion”. I think there is enormous richness in the different practises and habits that we bring from our religions. And I suppose that mixing religious beliefs sometimes makes us even richer.

Paul bought me a beautiful necklace for my birthday in Fort Cochin. Shopping in the markets is always exciting! It’s one of the ways we get to know the people and the culture. I find the proprietors here eager to connect, a little pushy and very gracious and kind. Yes…you must haggle with the price, and, once you get an idea of what something should cost, it’s easy. I think, at this point, I have completely replaced my Canadian wardrobe with Indian. With the heat as intense as it is, wearing a lot of clothes is unbearable. Loose fitting, light cottons, and modest clothing are perfect. And I love the colours! Things are so ridiculously cheap. If I were to come to India again, I would leave Canada with my backpack almost empty with the intention of filling it up here.

We are staying in Fort Cochin longer than we thought we would. It is such a great little town. Personally, I could live here (and apparently the buzz line with our children is we aren’t coming back); I have been smiling since we arrived. Here are some of the things that keep me smiling here:

We’ve rented bicycles! It feels so good to be back on a bike. It makes it so easy to get around and I also get to avoid being on my bad foot. I love being mobile, able to travel longer distances and staying off my feet.

People in Cochin seem to genuinely love us being here. Big smiles and audible “Gut morning!” or “Hello” are so common as we pass people on the streets. Even young children and teenagers seem comfortable welcoming us to their town. And it’s a humble welcoming. Recently I read that Fort Cochin has about 30 different religions and they all get along well. That’s something to be proud about and they are! That friendliness and togetherness filters down into neighbourhoods and homes, and I feel it when I’m out in the streets. I truly feel in sync!

I have been having daily Ayurvedic massage for my feet and I think it’s actually helping! Whether or not it is, doesn’t even matter anymore because I have met Saraswathi. Saraswathi is my massage therapist. She’s small, dainty, dark and beautiful. Each day she has worn a different vibrant coloured sari. Before each massage she carefully ties a towel around her waist to avoid the therapeutic oils damaging the silk.

During my first massage, Saraswathi playfully touches her index finger to the cleft in my chin and says, “You husbant say you darling?” Not understanding at first, I asked her to repeat, which she did. “Oh”, I said, relieved that I did understand, “Actually, Paul doesn’t really ever call me ‘darling’. But sometimes he calls me ‘sweety’.” She laughed, and ever since then she often says, “Sweety, How sweety?” The ‘t’ is exaggerated.

I wondered where she even got the idea. I had a vision that she’s innocently exposed to western film and television. Maybe she saw Leonardo DiCapprio and Kate Winslet in mad passionate love scenes and thinks that's what all westerners do. Or maybe it’s more like Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in those old hokey love scenes.

Saraswathi admired my dark blue toe nail polish. Today, after my massage we have a date to paint her toenails. It’s just a way of bringing west to east. And…oh yeah! My feet are getting so much better!

Our Yoga practise in Fort Cochin is thriving. We found Sajee a humble Indian Yoga teacher who invites us into his home for learning and practise. Sanjay is 44 years old and lives in Fort Cochin with his wife daughter and son, mother and aunt. We found his home/Yoga studio by careening our way through alleyways and narrow roads following the arrows with the word Yoga red and yellow letters posted on tree trunks along the road.

At first I thought 3 hours of daily Yoga practise would be too much. But a rich balance of meditation, challenging poses, and relaxation not only help the 3 hours fly by, but when class is over I feel enriched and just a little bit wiser. Sajee is a great teacher because he makes me feel safe. I have achieved a few really challenging positions through his guidance and encouragement because he is right there helping me. And, with 3 -5 people in the class Sajee is able to completely attend to each person. When he’s working with me, I know he’s with me completely. Yesterday during final relaxation, Sajee noticed there were mosquitoes around me. Without any disturance, he gently applied mosquito repellent so they wouldn’t attack. It made me realize that I could completely give in and commit to experiencing what I’m there to learn. What a great gift for a student; to know that I can let go, try new things, and take big risks because I will be protected and supported. With that, I can do anything.

Sajee is a wise and loving soul who seems so connected and informed about the ways of the universe. He says things like, “We each of us have a religion that leads to the same place”, or “There are tears of honey (when we cry for love or joy) and tears of salt (when we cry because of sadness or anger)”. Our 3 hours (4:00 – 7:00) culminates in our evening meal, prepared and served by his family members. We all eat this delicious food together. When, each night, I say a special ‘thank you’ to whomever prepared the food, Sajee says, “Please. Just say thank you to the food.” Yes….I get that. And how wonderful to have those who know what to do with it! It’s, for me, the perfect balance between appreciating God and Godliness.

Just Feeling Guut

2010-01-30T10:06:00.000-08:00

I’m smiling a lot here, in Fort Cochin. It is quiet and comfortable with a strong emphasis on Ayurvedic practise and healing and Yoga.

Today, I had a session with an Ayurvedic doctor to see if I can get some relief from pain that I have in my hands and feet. The pain is not new, and I have tried many alternatives for remediation. The concept of Ayurveda makes sense to me. It is the attempt to attain balance between the five basic elements of cosmic consciousness…air, fire, water, earth and ether. These are, similarly, the basic five elements I have studied in Yoga. I get the sense that since I keep hearing about these five elements in different ways, it is somewhat serendipitous.

The appointment began with a quick assessment by an Ayurvedic Doctor. She explained to me the importance of understanding each person’s character. Am I mostly Pitta (fire)? Or maybe I am Vatta (air and ether). Or Kapha (water and earth)? The ultimate quest is to determine which element is most dominant in ones’ nature so the action becomes an attempt to balance the three. We are all born with all 3 doshas and one usually represents a dominant constitution. With Ayurvedic support, we can maintain balance between the three to avoid disease.

I have been reading about Ayurvedic healing and it makes so much sense to me. There is inclusiveness about the approach that comforts me. Yoga, meditation, massage, aromatherapy, essential oils, and natural medicines can all lead to healing. I loved the massage, rich in natural oils. At times, I felt like a squirmy fish sliding on the massage table. Tomorrow I go back for more!!!!

Paul also had a massage, less therapeutic and more focussed on relaxation and calm. It figures…he’s asleep now while I’m wide-awake listening to the sounds of late afternoon. (Do you think that maybe I’m just a little bit Pitta?)

We met a fabulous Indian man yesterday who picked us up today and took us all around his city. He was born and raised here and obviously loves to show tourists around. I liked him a lot! One major stop today was the Jain Temple.

Inside the Jain temple we shared prayer with groups of barefooted men and women. The process for them begins with the ringing of a large bell that hangs from the ceiling. The meaning for the ring says, “I am coming”, and is followed by a walk around the back of the alter and moments in prayer. The final act is another ringing of the bell.

The main concept of Jainist philosophy is “Life is dear to every living being. Therefore, harm no living being.” Jainists eat no living animal. Some Jainists even wear facemasks to avoid the accidental swallowing of insects. It reminds me of some Orthodox Jews who would never eat romaine lettuce because insects sometimes hide close to the core. Janism is one of the most peaceful, life loving, and respectful religions I know.

I experienced another episode of emotion today similar to the one I had in the Hindu Temple in Hampi and also in the Hare Krishna Temple in Juhu. As I sit amongst others involved in prayer, practising unique procedures and chanting in their own language to their own God, I get this overwhelming feeling of spiritual community. It is similar to the feelings I experience when I am in my own synagogue and I hear my community around me praying together, vibrant in song and powerful in joint energy. There is an overwhelming surge of warmth through my body that actually causes me to cry. I’m unaware of the actual reason for it. It is just the reaction to the energy I experienced. Sometimes I even get it during my regular Yoga practise. And I have recently had that same feeling here in India several times in various Temples.

The rooftop of the Jain temple is usually forbidden to visitors, but for some reason, the Shri there today let Paul and me go up. To me it was really special. Masses of birds were flying around the rooftop as I watched the goings on below. It reinforced the Janist belief in life energy and in the equal energetic relevance of all living things. I felt totally exhilarated by the birds flying from the rooftops.

Monticherry is the other significant section of Cochin and lies just over a bridge from Fort Cochin. It is a hub for spice trade from the 15^th century to the present. Portuguese ships used to come to the port of Cochin to buy and trade spices. Today we saw sackbuts of ginger, mustard, cardamom, black and white pepper, anise, and so many other spices…some I never heard of before. The smells were natural, vibrant and varied.

Essential oils and aromatic incense shops were abundant too. I wish I could describe the smells that make India so unique and special. Every few steps offering new smells and a new olfactory experience. For me, the smells offer a unique experience in how I relate to what I see. I’m not giving up my patchouli so fast, (probably a disappointment to my children) but maybe Paul will investigate a smell that suits him best.

We bought some cool and colourful clothes today too! And a great new patchouli dispenser for my friend, Maalaa! What a perfect day!

Arriving in Cochin, Kerela

2010-01-30T09:18:00.000-08:00

I’m lying in my bed in Fort Cochin. It is a clean bed with clean sheets. We have a full bathroom and shower. The fan is on. It is still hot. The crows are squawking outside the window. The village is waking up. I hear the mats being beaten by tired women in the streets. The ritual morning bath is taking place right on the streets outside my window. This is India!

Fort Cochin is a lovely town. As we drove here, over the bridge, aluminium decorations covered the over pass welcoming us into a place that felt open and proud. Our rickshaw driver stopped along the way to help us find a place to say. “What’s your budget?” he asked. Immediately there was another man in our rickshaw, a native of the town, helping us find the appropriate place.

After a somewhat gruelling overnight train ride, we decided to pamper ourselves in a homestay room for a little less than $20.00 a night. It’s perfect!

In some ways Fort Cochin reminds me of Jerusalem. There are actual cement homes here, and though there are no street names or organized division of homes, there is a sense of residential existence. There are several schools run by various religious groups. There is a Catholic Basilica and a very old synagogue that is closed on Friday night and Saturday. Nuns wearing Catholic crosses over their Saris live in a convent close by. It is a comfortable mix of various religions….Hindu, Moslem, Janist, Buddhist, even Jews, all living together within the five square miles of the town.

Several parks and playgrounds around the town are active with young boys playing cricket. There is a general feeling of family around. And it is so comforting to receive a smile from men, women. The children smile too, and are playful as they practise their English with, “Goot moorning. What eez your name?” I love the joy, the easiness and the openness of the residents. I feel really comfortable here.

Getting off the train yesterday offered an immediate welcome. Paul and I, conspicuously western, were approached several times. Ordinarily we are cautious about this, suspicious that people want something from us because we’re tourists. In this case, however, people were curious about us and excited to have us in their home. Of course there are those who do want something, and we’re careful. But, for the most part the people here are happy to have us, proud of their village, excited to share their very special culture, and eager to make our stay pleasant. In fact, one of the drivers is spending the day with us today and acting as a guide to take us around.

Last night we watched a Kathakali performance. Kathakali is an important source of art culture in Kerela. Similar to old Shakespearean theatre, Kathakali is performed only by males. The female roles are taken on by males too, which, to me, lends a bit to the absurd. It is an art form that is a story telling format focussing on make up, costume, music and mime. There are no words; just a traditional sign language that, we learned, is being lost to the new generation. Performances in traditional Kathakali run 6 – 7 hours.

The performance that we saw started with the application of makeup. That can take up to 2 hours so usually the performer on whom the make up is being applied, is in a yogic state. There are some teachings around the language used in Kathakali; a specific sign language reminding me of American Sign Language. I’m wondering if our daughter in law, Vanessa would have understood the acting out of the story better than we did, because of her fluency in ASL. Exaggerated eye movements, also characteristic of the art form, reminded me of eye gymnastics. The actual presentation of the story ran about one hour. That was enough considering we really didn’t understand the language. The music, mostly percussion, was excellent, and for me, a bit unusual. Harmonium, hand cymbals, an unusual two sided hand drum played with taped fingers, and one man’s chanting voice were the only sounds for the entire hour.

I have to say; “I love it here in Fort Cochin.” I feel completely welcomed by everyone. It is easy to make eye contact with people on the street and it is similarly typical to receive smiles in response to mine. Between the Yoga, Ayurvedic Healing practise, access to bicycles, great food, and the friendliness of the people, I could make this home for a while.

Om Beach

2010-01-26T08:44:00.000-08:00

Life is good! I think Paul and I are really made for this kind of life. We’re living on about $30.00 a day and that includes our accommodations and the occasional gift or personal purchase. We live simply. A luxury room is one with our own toilet. Real deluxe is a shower spout usually on the wall opposite the toilet. When you use the shower you have to close the toilet seat so the shower water sprinkles on the lid.

Occasionally we feel really extravagant so we ask the proprietor to heat up some water, which we use with a small pitcher with the running cold water. Honestly, the sun beats down so strongly during the day, that the cold water is usually room temperature anyway. And, anyway, our lives on Gabriola have conditioned us to shower less frequently!

We have been finding coffee everywhere we’ve travelled so far and the chai is wonderful too. Avoiding raw vegetables hasn’t been too difficult. I just order lots of cooked ones. Everywhere we go there are many ethnic choices.

Last night we had a fabulous grilled fish feast with our new Israeli friends Adar and Ella. Ella is a Yoga Teacher in Israel. They are going back to Israel to make another attempt to live in the Kibbutz where Adar grew up. Adar turned 30 yesterday, January 25^th. Another Aquarian! The significant thing about Adar for me is this…..Adar’s mother came to Israel in the 70’s from the United States. There she met Adar’s father. Her name is Amy. She has lived in Israel all her adult life. When I look at Adar, I think, “He could be anyone of my kids!” We will definitely meet up with them again. Next time in Jerusalem!!!!

There is a community that is created when we travel. Sometimes we’ll meet someone in one city and meet up with him or her in a small village or town many days later. Familiar faces are always welcome and the greetings are usually shared with big hugs. There is always the possibility that we will meet again soon.

We arrived in Gokarna early yesterday morning after a relatively uneventful overnight sleeper bus ride. With several beautiful beaches in the area we chose one called he one Om Beach. It’s called that because the shoreline actually forms the shape of an Om.

Our last overnight bus experience was such a disaster, I’m really glad it didn’t scare us off from bus rides. I know Paul wrote about it in his blog (paulgellman.blogspot.com). Just briefly though, it was an overnight trip that was supposed to be 10 hours long and it took 25 hours! The truth is, it wasn’t that bad and it also reinforced for us something that many people have been telling us, “In India, expect nothing. Anything can happen!”

“Holy cows!” That’s actually the way cows are regarded in India. The cows in India are like dogs and cats in Toronto. They walk down roads and wander in to restaurants and cafes. It is common to find cows on the sides of city streets. They are in homes all over the country. On Om beach Paul and I watch the sunset. The cows want to play with me. I think it probably just wants my pineapple and bananas. But I’m not sharing with her….that’s for sure!

Yesterday I was reminded that we are approaching the end of January. The weather in Southern India is perfect. The mornings are chipper and I throw a shawl over my shoulders as I walk on the beach. Afternoons are hot and sunny. Evenings, as we watch the sunset cools down the air. For the first time, I thought about our friends in North America having to deal with sub zero temperatures and snowy, blizzardy, windy days and nights. It’s so hard for me to fathom the difference. I am sending you all warm vibes and sunny thoughts. With love….

Happy in Hampi

2010-01-23T07:09:00.000-08:00

The morning started almost before the night ended. I hardly slept. There were many sounds during the night. I revelled in them all.

Voices from outside our door; quests having fun, talking, smoking, laughing, and engaged in deep meaningful conversations.

Loud shouting from men down by the river sounded like a raucous party and friendly gathering. Music, gently beating, sounded from the tent of the restaurant near by.

Dogs growled while playing aggressively with each other, sometimes finding a monkey to taunt and chase.

At about 4:00 in the morning I hear the chatter of children and their families bathing in the River. The sounds travel clearly over the short distance of river. Large crowds of men and separate crowds of women, each including the children from both genders. Bathing in the river becomes the start to their day.

Even at 4 I wanted to walk down to the river but I am warned regularly about walking alone, so I waited for Paul to wake up. At 7 we walked down to the river, found a comfortable rock, and sat to watch the sun rise.

I was eager to get over to the other side of Hampi this morning. The motorboat ride takes less than a minute in a packed boat. There is one boat that shuttles back and forth from 6:00 am until 6:00 pm.

The Hampi Bazaar is complete with ruins and remnants of ancient temples and monuments. Many of the structures are carved out of rock. Others are built from a pile up of various sizes and shapes of broken rocks. The entire area feels sacred. I felt energy deeply and a strong connection with others gathering there.

Here are 3 major experiences that enriched my day:

One of the temples carved out of stone had layers of entranceways. By the forth cave I could feel the vibration of the sounds within. Sounds were crisp and clear. Leita, Paul and I began a progressive chant that resounded through the cave walls. Our voices sounded perfect. I didn’t want to leave. I stayed behind for several minutes, seated comfortably, hidden in the darkness of the caves remembering the vibrations.
In the main temple Hindus were welcomed to receive a blessing. I observed from the background as others received a blessing. I felt comfortable as the Sadhu rang a bell, offered each person a spoonful of holy water which they passed over their heads and sipped from their palms. Each person cupped their hands over the burning candle and brought the light closer with their hands. It is the same gesture that I use when I light the Shabbat candles. The Hindu blessing ritual is completed with a gentle application of a pindi, a dot on one’s forehead right at the place of the third eye.

As I observed the routine, I felt overwhelmed by a feeling of community. Our separate language often creates boundaries for verbal conversation. Our clothing is noticeably different. The colour of our skin is different too. And yet, I felt a strong sense of sisterhood. We all pray. We all pray to God. Maybe we call the God by another name. Perhaps we even say different prayers in different ways, but the intent is the same. We are really the same. The thought made me cry.
The Sadhu noticed me there and gestured for me to be blessed. I felt a bit humbled. I told him that I had no rupees. He insisted it didn’t matter. He blessed me. I felt honoured. Holy water, burning candles, a touch of spice on the forehead.

On our way back we met a little girl named Nayha. Turns out she is 3 years old and is born exactly on the same day as our grandson, Oscar. I taught Nayha how to hug a tree. That’s a lesson every child all over the world can learn in the same way. It’s a lesson I try to share with my grandchildren. All trees speak the same language if we learn how to listen with our hearts.
Finally, I met Vishnu Laxmi. That’s the elephant we met as soon as we came to Hampi 3 days ago. She was having a bath then in the river. She is a really special elephant. She takes rupees from people and blesses them by touching their head. Both activities are done with her trunk. She and I became friends! It was funny. I just happened to be there when her master wasn’t, so Laxmi passed the rupees on to me instead. Laxmi is very much loved by her trainer. They have been together for 17 years!

Leita took off today and Paul and I are on our own again! Tomorrow we leave for Gokarna. A beach experience again! Yay!!!! I need to find a beautiful place to work!

Happy Birthday Leita!!!

2010-01-22T00:20:00.000-08:00

Today is Leita’s birthday! It was

one of those days when periodically, I would say “Whooeee!! Life is

amazing!” I saw things today that I have never seen in my whole life and had experiences that are completely new and special and powerful.

We rented motorbikes to give us flexibility to go without having to hold back! I must admit I was a bit nervous in the beginning. I suggested to Leita that perhaps she would rather sit on the back of Paul’s bike instead of mine. I told her what our children used to say about my motorcycling riding. “No thanks, mom. Not until you

learn to stay off the sidewalks.” This is India though….come on!

The exhilaration I feel while riding a motorcycle with no one on the back makes me sing loudly. I do just that as I ride through the narrow roads of Hampi. As I pass people along the way, it is easy to smile broadly and shout, “Namaste”. I am reminded about my friend Margot calling me one day many years ago. She drove past me as I was jogging up a steep hill at Finch and Dufferin in Toronto. “You had the greatest smile on your face.” She said.”You look so happy when you’re running.” I am happy when I’m moving through space like that!

Our first stop on the bikes was the Hanuman Temple… The Monkey Temple named in honour of the Monkey God, a God of power.

We parked our bikes and trekked to the top of the mountain. The temple was beautiful in it’s simplicity and natural design. The views as we walked up were ‘breathtaki

ng’….literally, at times, causing me to gasp. Rice paddies, neatly organized in the fields, shared with small ponds and intermittent squares of soil. Occasionally a a building emerged, remnants from an old temple or a simple monument of ancient civilization.

The Indian people we met along the way greeted us with “Jhi Siri Ram”, a greeting that honours the name of a Hindu diety. Monkeys played all along the way. We bought bananas to attract their attention and to feed them. I spent quite a bit of time conversing with a whole family, taking pictures and talking to them all.

The motorcycle provided me with a way to interact with some of the village residents. One woman, walking along the path accepted a ride from me. As she climbed on to the back of the motorcycle, she asked gently, “Gentle?” I answered, “Sure, gentle. Come on. Let’s go! Whooeeee! I couldn’t believe how long she would have walked had I not picked her up. I was happy that she got home to her family way earlier than they expected to see her! And she was so much less exhausted than she would have been.

Another rider brave enough to get on the back of my bike was a young boy of about 8 years old. He accepted a ride from one ‘camp’ to the next. I was a bit worried that he was going somewhere that he shouldn’t be going. I kept asking him, “Where’s your mother? Is she there?” as I pointed back. “Or there?”, looking forward.

“There”, he assured me, with his finger pointing right past my shoulder. I was relieved when he asked me to drop him off. I made sure his mother was there before I rode on.

Our next stop was a visit with Kalli. Kalli is an old looking man living in one of the villages on our route. Leita said that she had stopped at his hut last year for tea. We were thrilled to be invited in. It is truly a hovel into which we were welcomed. We sat on the floor as we smoked bibbis (very small, thin cigarettes) and eating sweets that he had baked himself. We talked about the chanting necklaces he made from local kamal flower seeds. Each of us got a chanting necklace as we rode away on our motorcycles. “Om Na Ma La Shivayes” is a chant that I have heard many times in my Yoga practise. Now I have a personal, very dear experience

to relate to. Kalli is 50 years old. He is wise and only looks old.Our adventures then took us to the lake. We parked our bikes and made our way up. There we found a crowd of people on the top of the cliffs. People were jumping off the rocks into the lake, an approximate 8 meter jump. The waters looked beautiful. The challenge was tempting. I remembered Josh’s favourite place in the whole world, a River in Nanaimo where he takes us. There we fearlessly jump off cliffs (about 5 meters high).

I felt confident as I talked to the young people who were gathered around. I knew I could do this. Molly, a young woman part of the party hanging out wasn’t so sure. I was happy to spend some time convincing her how possible it would be…how gratifying. We agreed that I would go first.

I remember that breathing is everything. Just like when I used to go on the roller coasters with my children. “Breathe!” I would remind myself. “Breath deep.” I breathed…. and jumped! And once in the waters, I was there cheering as Molly did the same.

Sunset was phenomenal. Someone was playing a hammer dulcimer in the background. We watched from the temple as the sun, orange in it’s splendour, descended behind the temple mountain. Steven Spielberg would have been inspired! The brown and green background of the scene was highlighted by a bright orange-pink sun falling behind it’s vista.

Several times during the day I said, “I never want to leave India”. Hampi is a very trippy place. The day was completely magical! Happy Birthday Leita!

Leaving Arombol

2010-01-20T07:54:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the best way to sense the pulse of a village is to just stop. That was a realization on Saturday night when Paul, Leita and our new friends Katia and Sana decided to venture out of Arombol to a city about 50 kilometres away called Aupora. A huge market place on Saturday nights, it attracts many westerners. We decided to check it out and at the same time grab some dinner.

Together, the taxi jeep would cost $1000 rupees. That was for the return fare as well as waiting for us while we played at the market. Once we walked out to the main road, we stood off to one side to wait for our ride. I chose a large rock to sit on as I watched the town in action. That was when I realized how very special Arombol was!

There were motorcycles, motor rickshaws, and bicycles. There were cows and dogs, and roosters and even groups of wild boar. Men were carrying baskets full of fruit on their heads. And elderly women, bowlegged and bent, holding sticks wide enough to fit in their palms and just long enough to avoid any extra weight.

Horns are everywhere. In fact many bumpers in India read, “Please honk” or “Horn please”. The traffic in a small village like Arombol, is restricted to a one land dirt road. That’s for everyone! Horns honk proactively, not just in response possible danger.

My favourite time to be on the road is early in the morning on my way to Yoga. It has given me the chance to see the bustling streets in its dawn. As the shops begin to open, whole families participate in preparing their shops for the influx of possible buyers.

Water is being splashed in the entranceways to prevent the dirt from blowing on to the merchandise and inside the booth. Hundreds of items that have been carefully removed from tables and shelves are being replaced, each in their appropriate place. Long poles with hooks allow the children to re-hang the colourful dresses and blouses that have been taken down the night before. The bare hooks, become re-adorned with hand made sequined handbags and embroidered pouches. And the walls become hidden again with patterned cotton blankets and beautifully sewn Yoga shawls.

The smell of incense that comes from the doorways seems cleaner when the day is fresh. The morning coolness allows the smoke to stream longer and the air has had the night time to clear away the compressed odour of heated bodies from the previous day. The patchouli smell makes me feel at home.

I smile broadly as I walk to my Yoga class. I say good morning to each person I pass. I’m confident that they know I am not interested in buying anything at that time. They don’t harass me to purchase. Instead they respond with a “Good morning” and a welcoming smile.

Even the cows on the road seem to say good morning. I suppose if I stayed here long enough I would get to know them better too. If I lived here longer, I could even bring them the compost from the previous night’s meal. The cows here are very healthy, and friendly too!

We leave Arombol tomorrow. And though we love it here, it is time to move on. There is a free spirited mentality here created by (or maybe resulting from) Yoga, meditation, and regular chanting circles, lots of music, great food, beaches, sunshine and friendly people.

Tomorrow we are packing up. Leita will be coming with us too for three days. We are making the 5:30 sleeper bus to Hampy! It’s a 12-hour ride, and apparently, it’s not easy. I wonder if it will be my like my overnight Megabus rides to New York. And I thought $42.00 to New York was cheap! This trip is only costing us $15! And we even get a bed!!!!

Out into the world of India……

Finding Leita

2010-01-15T00:47:00.000-08:00

We found Leita early today! Leita used to have a house on Gabriola and Paul and I often stayed with her before we bought our property in the early 2000’s. When we built our outhouse, Leita donated two glass doors from her her guesthouse that was being demolished. So whenever anyone comes to Gabriola, you will have the joy of sitting on the outside toilet and looking out into the woods through those windows!

Leita lives in Goa during the Winter months and studies Tai Chi. She’s been waiting for us and was so excited to hear me calling her name through the streets near her villa. We spent the day wandering, drinking delicious coffee with Raj (aka Dylan) and talking on the beach.

Paul and I met with Bretzlov Jews who invited us for Kabbalat Shabbat and breaking bread for dinner. Ordinarily we would have helped to prepare the supper but…hey! We were really busy today! Yoga was at 4:00 and went to a breezy 5:45. It was actually a perfect transition into evening for me followed by chanting and dancing on the beach.

Our son, Jonathan, who spent time in India during his travelling days, says Goa is not really India, and in many ways he’s right. Most of the people who hang out here in Arombol are from other parts of the world. The Lonely Planet says that Arombol is a place where many of today’s hippies come to play and at the end of a fortnight they “shave off their beards and take off their tye dye once they’re back to the nine to five.”. It’s a beach. It’s Yoga practise. It’s music and lots of grown up fun. I’m feeling more and more like a grown up. I am feeling good…beginning to unwind.

There’s a scene on the beach at sunset. The sun is the guest of the party and everyone gathers to greet her and send her off for the evening. There’s drumming and chanting and dancing. The sun sets as the party continues into the darkness.

Right now life feels perfect. People are friendly, happy and engaging. The food is plentiful and delicious and very, very cheap. The 3 of us had a full 4 course Indian dinner tonight with lots of beer and it cost us $10.00.

The evening ended in a musical jam where Paul got to display his energy and talent. Many of the musicians were actually very good and we had a great time. I now, suppose jet lag is with me. Paul is asleep and I am energetic and raring to go.

I spoke briefly to Philip tonight in Toronto. I’m having a hard time getting my head around the idea of talking and seeing people more than half way around the world. And the 10½-hour time difference is mind-boggling. It reminds me about the incredible changes in our world and how it is getting harder and harder for me to keep up!

India!!!!

2010-01-15T00:18:00.000-08:00

We made it to Juhu late at night by prepaid taxi from Mumbai airport. The flights were uneventful. We were pretty exhausted and looked forward to a good night’s sleep. We had travelled just about 24 hours.

The Iskcon Guest House is a Hare Krishna Ashram. If you’re a lifetime member, accommodations are ridiculously cheap. We aren’t lifetime members so we had to pay full price (about $55.00). The sounds of bells clapping and continuous chanting of Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna reminded me of the streets of New York in the 70’s. I think they were wearing the same gowns. Certainly they were chanting the same tunes. “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Ruma.”

This morning I wandered into the temple. One man approached me as soon as I walked in and handed me a set of beads and a card on which was the Hare Krishna chant in several languages. He instructed me how to chant Hare Krishna by rubbing each bead as I chanted. I appreciated his instruction. I’ve never really known how to be a Hare Krishna follower. I decided I’d benefit more just by being myself. I sat cross-legged, facing the alter with my eyes closed. Holding the beads in both hands, I took some time to be quiet, close my eyes and meditate. The music from the harmonium and the beautiful voice of the leader and of the Krishna community embraced me.

In Hare Krishna land people greet each other by saying, “Hare Krishna”. I suppose it’s a little like saying “Shabbat Shalom”, or “Chag Samaech” while entering or leaving the shul. Paul was relieved I didn’t say either of those. But I did respond with a smile and a simple "Good morning”.

India is a barrage of sensory input. Taking pictures is one way of capturing the experience. The sounds and smells are as important if you really want to have a feel of what is happening. I can’t photograph smells and sounds. You’ll just have to imagine and I’ll just have to try to remember.

We flew yesterday south of Mumbai on Spicejet Airlines. Goa is a very large area of India. We took a taxi north, from Goa’s airport, to Arambol. A good friend of ours from Gabriola is living in Arombol and we wanted our first stop in India to be meeting up with her.

There are stoplights in India, and I’m sure that some people use them as suggestions. Most, however, don’t bother with laneways or any traffic laws that might make highway driving less frightening. Some signs along the road read, “Lane driving is Sane driving” or “Don’t be a hell mate, wear a helmet”, both humourous reminders for various vehicle users along the highway.

The place we are staying in has a mirror, a small unit with 3 shelves, a stool, a sink (with cold water only) and several nails hammered in around the walls. There is one naked bulb on the wall that sheds all the light for the room. Some of you might remember William Burrows’ dark and intense novel, the The Naked Lunch. I always wanted to sleep in a wild place with a naked light bulb. It makes perfect sense that it would happen in India.

I feel good tonight. There’s music playing outside. The breeze is coming through the open window. We are sleeping in our MEC sheets that Paul bought in case the sheets were not as clean as we might like them. I’m sleeping in mine tonight!

Leaving

2010-01-11T04:47:00.000-08:00

We leave tonight. Paul and I know we are going on an adventure. Many of our friends say we're lucky! Many think we're absolutely crazy! Some tell us that they're jealous. "I wish I could do that" they say. I think we're just doing what we want and making it work in our lives. Our children are living on their own, away at school or creating their own journeys through travel. We feel confident in their abilities to make good in the world. Our dog, Charlie, passed away last year, and my mother moved back to the States. Paul and I both have work that can take us anywhere. In fact, we both have work that is coming with us to India. We are off today!

The last few days have been packed with good-byes and well wishes. We feel blessed to have so many people in our lives who love us and genuinely care.

Being in synagogue this past Shabbat was a reminder that I am protected and supported in my life no matter where I am. My community there embraces me and I feel the presence of God through that embrace. I have a sense that I am part of a larger universe. I am not alone. I am guided in my path and loved through the process.

I never really wanted to go to India. In fact, it was just a year ago, about the time when "Slum Dog Millionaire" came out, and I was also reading The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. Having also read all of Rohinton Mistry's novels and heard from friends how crazy and hectic and corrupt India was, I thought, "Who would ever want to go to India?"

Then I saw a movie called The Pool at the Carlton Movie Theatre. It portrayed India as a lovely, peaceful place, and rich in landscape beauty and culture. I began to read more about the India of today. I read that the real India is mostly Hindu and Buddhists influences. Yoga, Ayruveda and meditation, form the basic foundation of the culture. Most of the people are calm, loving, and generous of spirit. I began to think of the Indian born people I know in Toronto, and I thought, "Yes...this makes more sense."

It reminds me of the Aboriginal communities in Canada and throughout North America. They too were doing just fine... thank you very much, until the Europeans came with the intention of changing the culture and making them more European. The uniqueness and beauty of Native culture was ignored as settlers tried to force the Native population to comply to ways that were unfamiliar and foreign to their life style. The change was forceful, hurtful, ultimately resulting in an angry, untrusting and confused people. The British did the same in India. The corruption, and misguided behaviours of many of the people, I think, is the result of that forceful intervention.

When Paul and I decided that we would no longer spend our Winters in Toronto, we began the process of working out how to manage enough work in Toronto and, also create work where ever we would travel.

This summer we played with the possibilities of Guatemala (Paul has a bit of history there and we also sponsor a child who lives there) , Mexico (our friends Sandy and Audrey are there this year), California (mostly to be with Jonathan, Vanessa, Stella and Oscar), Israel (another second home for us) or India (to go deeper into our Yoga practise and investigate a completely different culture) . While we were on Gabriola this summer, I met a man who runs several ESL Schools all over the world. It made me think! Thinking is good in this case. It turns out the school isn't doing as well as his other schools throughout the world. He needs help! So India it is!

We are certainly off for an adventure. Over the last 4 months we have created a plan of sorts. Our intention is to work, learn and volunteer in various parts of the country. We are connected with various organizations, friends, and communities both in the Buddhist and in the Jewish worlds. Paul will undoubtedly find musical opportunities in various places and I will participate by focussing on how Indian drumming differs technically from African, (which I've been practising for the last two years). We have work that goes with us, and we have friends waiting for us in cities, villages, ashrams and towns. We know where we will sleep the first night we arrive in Mumbai. And we know we'll be flying to Goa as our first step into India. Past that, we know nothing for certain.

We are excited for us, as I know many of you are too. We feel strongly connected to all of you. We feel safe and loved and protected. Please continue to stay in touch......