Safe in India

Dear all,

I know all of you know I am im Mumbai, but I just wanted to make extra sure that you know I am safe. The security in major cities, like Mumbai, has increased at transportation and tourist sites. The media talk about Delhi like Bush. "This is a tragedy, but the shops are open again and we need to celebrate Divali (sp), the Hindu new year." Otherwise they cannot share any of the investigations currently happening.

I also wanted to let you know that I will leave Mumbai today. I was already planning on going to Pune, a smaller town, but I am even more resolved now. I think it will be a safer idea to be in Pune from the 1-5 of November just in case more attacks occur, which is likely since Divali is on the 1 or 2nd. In any event, here is my schedule, just in case.

Today (31) leave on a 3 hour train to Pune. In Pune 1-5 (or 6), back to Mumbai on the 7th for Tricia's arrival on the 8th.

Lots of hugs to all,

Julio

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

Bombay-Mumbai Part I

In arrived in Bombay at noon and after being followed by many cab drivers at the train station a nice man suggested I go outside of the station and grab a cab. The following was kind of fun though since I decided to walk all around the station with quick turns and such and I drove the drivers totally crazy. Anyhoo, after being told a ride would cost R100, the R80, then R70, then R50 a nice guy stopped me on the street and insisted he call the place I was staying to make sure of the address, then got a R40 price for me. Still, I yelled at the driver and told him R35 was final. He mostly agreed. This means he said yes and then for the 15 minute ride he told me a thousand reasons I had to pay him R40. I arrive at the Salvation Army Hostel, handed him R35 and told him it was good karma for him to be nice to a tourist.

The Salvation Army is my first experience with a dormitory. This means there are about 25 of us in a rather smallish space with lots of bunk beds. I was weirded out at first, safety, cleanliness, etc, but after meeting couple of folks I have to say, I settled into it nicely. I cover my bed with a large silk sheet I got, cover my pillow with my jacket and I managed to find a hidden bathroom (shared bathrooms) in the back of the hostel. My valuables go in a locker and my backpack stays out all day. I feel this intense sense of trust among the other travelers and our collective respect for each others things and so I am happy. Oh yes, why here? Bombay is like LA. While I paid R150-250 in most places, here I would pay R600-800 for a single room with bathroom. The SArmy costs R150.

I spent my first day walking around and made the silly decision to buy a LonelyPlanet suggested map of R250. It is so detailed and I have not used it once. It will be a nice present when I leave. I also found BARISTA, India's Starbucks (the other is Coffee Day, which I detested). I love Barista and they make a mean double latte. I think of Nicole every time they give it to me. Nicole makes the best lattes in the world. The Italianist in her works its way every time! Now, a double latte is a must in the mornings and afternoons. And yes, I am starting to get back that HORRIBLE - NEED CAFFEINE feeling. This will change since I will go to smaller places once Tricia arrives. BUT TRICIA, we will first have a yummy latte on the 9th.

This day also marked the first time I had alcohol in India. After a very hot day, and meeting up with Kim, an Aussie I ended up at a restaurant ordering pitcher of beer and eating a mutton club sandwich and fries. Could I be more American? The beer sucked, but the idea of having the beer was great.

The first day was also when I was *spotted*! Ok, so men stand on the streets of Colaba and Fort (where tourists stay) and ask us if we want to be extras in Bollywood movies. It is neat. The deal is that you work from 8am - 11pm, get free food, and get R500. But, you do it for the experience and a potential spot, of course.

For those of you not familiar with India cinema, the industry is famous for Hindi Movies which are usually 2-3-4 hour extravaganzas that consists of a mostly simple story line with a twist. The twist? Every time the movie comes to some sort of significant turning point the actors and the cast break into songs and dances. It is not the usual musical, it's really kinda of magical. Think of THE HOURS, and then suddenly the four main characters starting a dance number while the cast follows with simple moves behind. It's more like that. Sometimes, if the movie is good, or the dance number is good, then it gets put on MTV India. The scene we were shooting (I think) was the final dance number of "Neal & Nicky" and it was set in a barn since the movie is set in Canada. Lots of hay, (Yes, Drew I kept thinking - ROLL in the HAY, ROLL in the HAY - ok people, I a not writing suggestively to Drew in public. I am referring to a funny scene in Young Frankenstein (sp)).

The day was filled with boring moments of waiting for different angles of the shots, lots of hunger and the meals kept getting pushed back and totally tacky outfits. Perfect, as expected. I brought a book so when I was not talking to others I was reading, which was actually nice. This experience also made many of us travelers bond since 20 of us lived through this experience.

As with anything, the best part of the day was when 4 us said, F%$K it, let make this our best B-wood experience ever. This meant every time the music went on we lost ourselves. We danced so crazy people starting laughing, watching and joining in. It was blast and ended at 10pm, getting us back to our place at about 11:15pm.

Yesterday I spent the day with the wonderful Polish girls who arrives back from Kolkata. We did a walking tour, shopped some, and complained about our collective diarrhea (sp). Not the end of the world, don't worry.

The girls are doing the B-wood thing today so I am just taking it easy since my life will really pick up when Tricia gets here. I am going to read some, have a latte, and just be in this mad, mad India.

Julio - all caught up - Dantas

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

BODHGAYA

BODHGAYA

(NOTE: Sorry for not spelling everything correctly. For instance, promise instead of promisse in the previous entry.)

Bodhgaya is the place where Sidhartha reached enlightment under the Bhodi tree. It is a magical place, a place where Buddhists from all over the world come every year on pilgrimages. It is where the Dali Lama spends December and January. It is where the air blows a little ligther, the people move a little slower, but the sellers still remain strong, loud and often obnoxious (sp).

As previously mentioned, I went there randomly. I left Varanasi with the girls and got on a night train which was to leave at 6pm and left at about 10pm. I chose sleeper class again. This is the class where there are 8 berths (beds that detach from the wall in a boat or train) in a very small, enclosed space. It is where India travels. It is not the unreserved class as seen in The Amazing Grace or crazy movies with thousands of Indians hanging out the window, but it is the next class up, not too far up. And again, it was an experience. The process is that I get in the car and everyone, everyones stairs. I can see that they are asking - what is he doing here? He is a foreigner, why isn't her in 3AC or 2AC, the higher classes respectively? But, I got from Varanasi to Gaya on sleeper for about R200, in AC it would have been about R800. Still $15-20 you say, but when your daily budget is $25 it makes a huge difference.

Anyhoo, I found my seat and while the 12 people around me stared at me closing my bag, locking it, etc, I said a loud NAMASKAAR!!! They were startled at my saying Hello in Hindi and all nodded and said hello or namaskaar. I then asked how they were doing and for the next 4 hours we talked. It is always a crazy case of broken English, India English, loud train noises and lots of people coming around. At one piont there were about 30 people looking on, asking question, wanting to see my watch or something. It is a tough game of being kind, looking out for your stuff and giving someone attention while trying to figure out what they are saying.

I was tired, but the experience included:
--good conversation about NGOs with lots of names of people I should contact. None are actually useful to me as none are about trafficking, but I was very thankful, wrote them all down and smiled.
--the boy who asked his mom to put a bandana on his head like me. It was funny and we took pictures together.
--the boy (18) who was furious that I did not know one of India's prime freedom fighters who fought against the British. He said, HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW! YOU MUST KNOW! YOU CANNOT KNOW INDIA IF YOU DO NOT KNOW THIS STORY! I laughed and told him to teach me. He said he would send me things. He took down my email and my phone number. He has since SMSed (Instant Phone Message) me to tell me he would send things. He had one BIG FAULT. He loved Argentina's Maradona, so we fought a lot about good and bad soccer. It was fun.

My most Indian moment in the ride was after their dinner. Everyone asked me if I was going to eat. I said I already had, but that a sweet would make all the difference in the word. A barfi - condensed milk based sweet would make me so happy. LESSON: One should be careful what one asks for in the presence of an Indian family. One of the fathers made his son pull out their bag, looked all through it for a beatiful cardboard box from which he produced two barfies. Now, it was obvious from the wrapping that this was a special treat for the family. They probably picked it up in Varanasi and where taking it home to Kolkata, but still. He unwrapped the box and gave me the sweets. This for me, is India, this is the India I have chosen to keep in my heart every day, especially the days where I want to strangle rickshaw men.

We arrived at about 2am and completed the amazing feat of getting a rickshaw for 5 people for R100 for 14KM. It was hell, but well done. Unfortunately our driver was not so smart (or maybe too smart) and claimed not to know where the monestary we were staying at was. Instead he brought us to a hotel, which he would certainly receive a comission for. Her refused to take us. But, since in India you simply don't pay until you arrive, he had to fight with us, at 2am, until we showed him the way.

We arrived at the monastary and one of my funniest India experiences happened. Edyta is this short and powerful Polish woman (I am attracted to women like this - Nicole, Tricia, Tonja, etc). The monastery was TOTALLY LOCKED DOWN. So, after the rickshaw driver and yelled some, and we called for someone we saw a man put his pants on and come real slowly to our rescue. We looked at Edyta and we all thought - monastary...NAMASTE.

In a beautiful move Edyta put her hands together in a prayer position, bowed her head and respectfully said NAMASTE. When the guard looked at us as if we were crazy think he would let us in she promptly made a phone gesture to her ear and yelled - WE CALLED AND THEY SAID YOU WOULD LET US IN! WE CALLED! In his daze and confusion the man let us in. GO EDYTA bringing cultures together to create change. After I had to be firm that we agreed on R150 for single room with bathroom, and argue with another sleeping man a little we got to bed, at about 3am.

The thing to do in Bodhgaya is see buddhist temples. There are about 10 of them from around the world, and each is more beautiful than the other. So, we spent most of our time going to temples. OK, that actually was the second day. The first day Edyta and Magda spent the day shopping, and shopping, and shopping. I got a scarf and sat for chai. We did get a chance to go to the major temple and see the Boddhi tree. We were there for about 2 hours and it was perfect. We got to see a tour of over 100 Chinese folks coming for their pilgrimage. The pictures will tell a better story. But, we also just set in the presence of monks, and trees, and peace.

The 2.5 days there were filled with a lot of breathing and sitting under the tree. It was wonderful. Really great. I also met up with a traveler I met 3 weeks ago in the Himalayas. These moments are cool.

The other striking thing about places in India is what we experience in Bodhgaya with the kids. The number of kids asking for money and food are incredible. They are everywhere. It's tough because we get EXTRA approached since we are tourists. Many experiences:

-Money: Everyone asks for money. Women with children, children, disabled. A lot of Indians have told me not to give money since these kids are part of a business ploy where men make them ask for money and they have to bring a certain amount in everyday. Can you say CHILD SLAVERY?

-Pen and Books: A lot of kids ask us to buy books for school and pens. They know enough tourist English to say - I WANT TO BE A DR., PLEASE BUY ME A HINDI-ENGLISH DICTIONARY. In this scheme a tourist does this and the kids then sell the item back to a store for money.

-Food. I think this is the toughest. Why not give them food? It's complex and this experience should give you a sense of why. One of our nights in Bodhgaya we did not finish our food, we asked for it to go and gave it to the two kids who had been asking us for food (for 2 hours straight). This is was good, we thought. Yes, first, IT WAS GOOD. GIVING FOOD TO HUNGRY CHILDREN IS ALWAYS THE RIGHT THING TO DO. But, the next night at dinner 5-7 children were around our table asking us for food. One of the girls we gave food to was pointing at us saying we gave her food. This happens with mother and children. You give one an apple and suddenly there are 10 mothers with sickly children around you. It is crazy. And, in some way I have not yet negotiated with myself, you tuned it out.

My next stop, Mumbai/Bombay, India's Bollywood. It was a 30-hour train ride and I shelled out R2600/over $60 and it was a wonderful ride (wonderful in India terms), quiet, mostly clean (only 2 roaches), and I slept a lot, read a lot and had really nice conversations with the one other person that was in my area.

Next up - Bombay. I am trying to catch up to the city I am in. I am currently here and will be here until the 1st of November when the girls leave, go to Pune for 4 days at the OSHO Retreat Center and then back here to wait for Tricia.

Kisses to all,

Julio

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

VARANASI

VARANASI

The first think to know about Varanasi is that it is one of the 7 most holy cities in India. This is the city that Indians come to to die, literally. Much of Varanasi's fame comes from the fact that bodies are cremated at the margins of the Ganga River 24 hours a day, in open air. Yes, that means that everyone can watch this very important aspect of Hindu India culture. The city itself has also become a tourist place and thus is filled with sellers and rickshaw drivers constantly on the attack.

We (the Polish women Edyta and Magda) arrived in Varanasi at 5am or so. We were all pretty tired. Someone from their hotel had come to fetch us and so the ride to the hotel was pretty harmless rickshaw wise. I checked out their hotel then went across the street to look at the one I had planned on staying at. It was a dump! So, I paid a little more and stayed at Hotel Buddha where the girls were staying. Again, definition of a good hotel includes buckets of hot water if you want hot, a few bugs, and definitely sleeping in your bed sheet.

Important in the Varanasi story is the agreement I made with the hotel representative. I was to stay there for 4 nights and the room was R300/night. In the bargaining process we agreed on R250/night and that I would pauy R300 if I stayed less. I know, bad bargaining for a traveler like me, but I live and learn. More on this later.

It was now 7am and we paid R750 for a tour of all the temples in Varanasi, visit to stores, and a boat ride on the Ganga. The boat ride is the most famous activity as the sunset and rise in Varanasi is supposed to be outstanding both because of nature and because this is the time that morning poojas (prayers) and artis (ceremonies) occur so you can get a great look from the boat. Well, it rained non-stop while we were in the city. We got on morning without rain and that was when we did our boat ride. We agreed on a tour for the next day and left the hotel for our day in Varanasi.

It was pretty crazy. We basically walked on all of the ghats. Ghats are like stairs/sidewalks in front of different important building and ashrams. The river front is separated by these as different Hindus perford different ceremonies in different ghats. Of about 25 ghats, two most important are the ones where people are cremated. So, on our walk we passed by this ghat.

I don't know if it is my own issues with death, the way in which the human body looks when it is being carried wrapped up in beautiful silks, or simply the seemingly known scientific way in which it is all done, but the whole experience was pretty outstanding. I thought I would be shocked, but instead I was really happy that people in India have such a meaningful process for their loved ones. Here are the basics...

Everyone can pay anywhere from 2000 to about 25000 to be cremated. Prices are decided based on many things, but one of the most important being the type of wood that is used for the burning. Ok, it is very scientific, I lied. Each log is carefully weighed and since they know exactly how many logs of each type of wood needed to be used for an ideal cremation, it all works out. The most prestigious logs are (shoot, I forget) hhmmm, sandle wood?

Everyone can be cremated, except - sadhus (spiritual seekers), pregnant women, children under 12, and people that have been bitten by snakes. Why snakes you say? It is from an old story where I snake bit Shiva and therefore it is pure. So the pures - sadhus, children, etc are not burned. But, what happens to them. Take a moment. Guess. Yes, they are carefully wrapped, tied to stones and thrown into the river. And, what happens then. I am happy to say that for the most part they stay there, but many bodies have floatted up and it is a difficult situation for foreigners and others when they do.

The cremation process has its own customs. The person gets brought from somewhere (not sure if it is their home) on top of a rickshaw, or a jeep or something through the crazy city traffic. They then get on a line to be cremated. One family member, usually the eldest son or another man (women stay at home weeping) is chosen to perform the ceremony. The ceremony is a series of prayers and flower throwing and sandlewood chips tossing. Perhaps the most surprising was that the rest of the men of the family sit a bit farther away and watch until the body is completely burned. All is burned, except that men's chests don't burn, and neither do women's hips. These pieces are tied by a string which the prescribed family member than swings into the river. In some cases the ashes are collected, but for the most part they are thrown into the river.

The three of us had an opportunity to watch two of these ceremonies, each time with a self-prescribed guide who immediately asked us for a donation after he finished talking. In the second case I asked the guide for a teaching. I said, we have been watching this person's death ceremony for 10 minutes and you have been trying to get us to go to a sari shop that entire time. I come from a culture where there is quite reflection in these moments. What happens in India. The family is quite, but here you are talking about consumerism. He looked at me rather blankly and said. We are not sad in India when someone dies, we celebrate, we talk. I looked around the rest of the 30 or so people, all mostly quietly. I looked at Edyta who said, WELCOME TO INDIA. I looked back at him, sighed and said, what were you saying about the saris? Oh, India.

The other great experience in Varanasi was our tour. We paid and were promissed many things, which quickly got changed to lesser items. Well, they had another thing coming if they thought Edyta and Magda and I were going to be ok with this. We all spelled out every promissed to us and our tour added up to:

-A first visit to the Ganga at 6am. It started to rain and we made them take us back to the hotel and do the Ganga the next day. This was their commitment to us. Rain = no tour.
-They took us to all the temples (only about 4). They complained that we were taking too long, but we reminded them of their promisse. They then took us to several shops, which they also looked at us disapprovingly, and we reminded them that we were at these shops because they were getting commission.
-The next day we went on our river tour and at every step, with every person, we got a long, long sob story (which I am sure was true) about how we needed to give them a big tip. We all read that in total this tour could have cost about 2/3 of what it costs and I know we all operated with this. So, in all interactions we said - talk to the hotel, they booked the tour.

Was this easy? No, but the balance between honest versus dishonest requests for money is nearly impossible in India. Somedays you give in, somedays you don't.

The other unexciting thing is that I got sick. I was tired, it was raining and overall it was just wet and cold. I managed to get some nighttime Vicks, some India medicine and drink lots of water. Other than this horrible smog cough that I still have, I was basically fine after 2-3 days.

Oh, this was also the place where I randomly decided to to go Bodhgaya with the girls. This proved to be a great change in plans. Bodhgaya was fabulous! More on it next.

And, yes, the promisse I shook on. As I was leaving the Hotel Buddha a different guy told me all of my accounts were clear. I paid R500 for two nights. In the back of my head I know I made the promisse to pay R300 a night if I were to stay less than 4 nights. I told him fine, but knew right there and then that it was the wrong thing to do. After I was thoroughly convinced by many a traveler that India has f&*$ed me over much more than R100 and that this was their fault and not mine, I just could not do it. I made a promisse, I shook on it, I had to follow through. And, I wrote a note to the hotel about my agreement, put the R100 in the envelope and will send it off today. Will it get there? I don't know. Will it go to the right person? I hope so. What I do know is that we live in a crazy world with different levels of dishonesty for different reasons and people who change their promisses when it works and does not work for them. I am not perfect in any stretch of the imagination, and I am the first one to screw capitalism in the face. But, I made promisse and I intend to keep it. Maybe my act can make it so some of these hotel folks think twice before screwing tourists on room charges and tours. Maybe...

OK, up next -
BODHGAYA where Sidhartha became enlightened.
BOMBAY where I got my break in Bollywood movie out December 9th.

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

Khajuraho

Khajuraho

My departure from Orchha as written in my last entry was eventful. Fortunately I ended up sitting beside Kentoro (Ken), a great Japanese traveler who has been on the road for two years. He has been everywhere, and I am happy to report that Brazil was his favorite. So much so that he learned Portuguese (pretty well) so I got a chance to speak some Portuguese for a couple of days. He also really enjoyed Brazilian music. A few minutes into the ride Chez and Claire (couple from the UK) joined us on the bus and we rode together for the 6 hours it took to Khajuraho in a very tight, very hot, very dirty bus on a very, very dirty road. We did stop on the side of the road and had some great (albeit scary - stomach) food. All was fine.

One of my concerns about Khajuraho is that I was staying at a very expensive guesthouse which Uncle Arun (from Delhi) booked for me. So, I asked Ken if he wanted to stay with me. I figured if I paid so much it would make me feel better if we shared. He agreed, and while I did not ask him for any money, he insisted in paying for all of my meals while in Khajuraho. The guest house was fine and staying together gave us a chance to talk more in-depth about his trip. The long and short of it is: the world is great, people are really racist toward the Japanese, when folks see past our nationalities they really connect and that's wonderful, and you have got to keep traveling.

That night we had dinner with Chez and Claire on a tree house type thing. It was beautiful, except for the bugs that kept kamizing into my plate.

One of the toughest annoyances of Khajuraho is that tourists are deer and sellers tigers. We were followed, and I mean followed, everywhere - rickshaw? scarves? statues? tour? tour? tour? sights? internet? Every where there were people, sometimes 5-6 at a time running after us. It is so hard to be nice, say no, be nice again, and not want to strangle someone. It is also tough to enjoy a city when you can't really walk around it in a peaceful manner. When your instinct is to duck whenever someone comes at you, and they always come at you.

In Khajuraho I realized I ended my honeymoon period of travel, and entered my resentment period. There, and in Varanasi, where I went next I hated India for its tourist pounding side. Yes, I yelled at the man who grabbed me to pull me into his store, I walked trough areas without responding to anyone, and secretly I wanted to have a way to make them all disappear. But, this, this is India. It is so much part of the intensity of being here. The endless people. They are everywhere. There are 1.1 billion people here and there is never aloneness. Yes, Anston, even I want to be TOTALLY ALONE in this place sometimes. But, instead I am accepting it slowly but surely. Adjustment is the next phase after resentment and I am feeling like I will be there in a few days. Right now, in Bodhgaya I am still in transition.

Khajuraho is famous for its erotica. There are a lot of versions of the story of why its temples have people in sexual positions to make even my hair raise. Among the versions I like the a) it was a handbook for young boys, was thought to keep the temple from being struck by lightning since the appealing to the rain g-d Indra who was a keen voyeur, and that it was actually because its creators were tantric followers - gratification of the baser instincts is one way to transcend evils and achieve enlightment. Yes, the pictures are great, and yes, I will try to get them up.

My day and half there was spent touring the temples with Ken (who left mid-day) and then renting a bike in the afternoon. On the bike I was followed by many, many teenagers who wanted to give me tours of everything. I chose one boy who told me he did want any money and he showed me around his village. It was intense to see the level of poverty and especially the demarcation still present in this very old village of the different casts. As he took me around I could witness after every few turns (not blocks) that the area was getting progressive poorer. It was said and complex and so many things. I don't know what I think about poverty anymore. It is so much bigger than I could ever imagine, and yet, people keep suffering and having lots and lots and lots of babies.

My highlight in the afternoon came when a few boys starting following me and my unoffical tour guide and ask me if I wanted a tour from the instead. After much argument I told them - no tour - but I will do a bike race back into the town. It was about 2KM. I worked hard to beat them, but I happily got 2nd place out of 4. They joy in the winner's face was priceless. I told them, no tour, but I will buy everyone sodas. So, we sat in front of the bike rental shop/supermarket/knick-knack store and talked and drank sodas. It was loads of fun.

I ended the day (sunset) at a cafe with my chai and reading my THE DISCOVERY of INDIA book which has been wonderful. I went back to my room, and after 5 power outages all over town I showered, and before going to sleep the power went out and the sky fell with strong lightning, wonderful sounds and hard rain. It cooled India for an evening.

Oh yes, before leaving Ken took out a Japanese hand cloth and offered it to me as a present. He insisted I have it. It is beautiful and it was really touching. He said he really enjoyed our meeting, I agreed. We agreed there was no reason to say good-bye and that we would see each other again.

My last morning in Khajuraho was annoying as hell with internet, CD-rom and extremelly annoying purchase problems. I basically spent the morning trying to leave unsuccessfully and yelling at everyone who crossed my path. It was a bad morning.

I caught the 3pm bus to Satna - the nearest train station to go to Varanasi - with Claire, Chez, Edyta and Magda. The latter are two fabulous women from Poland who I have been traveling with for the last 5 days. I was in Varanasi with them and now I am in Bodhgaya, the site where Sidhartha became Buddha.

Will write about Varanasi and Bodhgaya next...

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

LOGISTICS

I thought I would tell you about some logistics. My gear, my budget, hygiene, and those things that I live with everyday, but don't make it to the pages of stories about the life of travel.

MORNING AND NIGHT
For most of the time I have been waking up at 6:30-7am. For the last couple of days I got up at 9am. Not sure if this is a trend or what. I wash my face, and go to breakfast. Breakfast consits of chai, and usually a paratha (pancake like thing with potato and peas) that is dipped in curd. I also sometimes have puri - puffed up pancakes that are dipped in a garbanzo bean sauce. Both are very good, oily and fattening, but keep me going until about 1pm. I then go back to the room, use the bathroom (#2), which means I am back to my normal schedule. Then I get my day bag ready and to the sites. When I know I am going to leave the next day I spend the night before or the morning packing my bag. I am getting better and better.

Before going to bed I take a shower. I realized that a shower (water from above) is the thing I need. It is my THING. I can deal with different foods, the constant tourist requests, the dirt, and even the lack of toilet paper, but I NEED A SHOWER. I need to go to sleep feeling clean, not something that happened my first few days. I also use my mom's creams before going to bed. Honestly, my mother, I use them because I want them to be ligther in my bag. Love my products but more and more everyday I am learning that they are not necessary.

I also do a bug check. I check my bed for bugs, cover the pillow with my jacket (the inside part is really soft) and slip into my night sac, which I love. For the most part I have been ok at night. Only one night did the bugs really bother me.

MY STUFF
The single best thing I did before leaving the States was laser hair reduction on my face. I only shave once a week and it's GREAT!

I love my:
-bandana (covers my head, cleans my hands, wet it cools me down, ties things together)
-night sac (keep me protected and just thin enough that feels like a simple sheet in the heat)
-pants (these pants rock and the pockets are really useful.
-torch/flashlight (my little light is great for all the blackouts, for looking under the bed before I leave rooms, and when I hang it from the ceiling at black outs it lights up the whole room)
-watch (I don't have one in the States that I use. The alarm, the stop watch function, etc are all great.
-my money belt (makes me feel safe)

I need to change
-my camera (I love the zoom and the power, but I CANNOT CARRY IT ANYMORE. It is bulky, hard to instruct others to use and it makes me feel unsafe since it looks so expensive). I am working (or should I say Mindy) on changing it when Drew comes.
-jury is still out on the daybag. Some days I love it, somedays I don't.
-I have a lot of products which I may give to Drew to take back in December.

RANDOM
-I tried the bathroom without toilet paper. Interesting. I saves paper, cleans well. My only problem is putting my underwear on without drying. I am still trying to get used to it.
-I am coughing up some narly loogies (sp) because of the dust and smog I have been breathing in. I am starting to understand the Indians taht cough up a lung in the morning.
-I rip pages out of my lonely planet. Places I am for sure not vising get thrown. Pages of the places I am visiting are ripped and taken to those places. The LP stays in the room. That 1200 page is a monster.
-I look the same everyday. It makes me laugh, but is interestingly comforting. I almost bought a kurta today (long Indian blouse that men wear) but the experiencing ended up sour and I left the store unhappy. In the end, one less thing for me to carry.
-My feet are pretty gross, but stronger. I usually soak them at night and then put cream on the cracks. It helps a lot.
-I love EMERGENCEE powder and Drew must bring a whole box when he comes. It is great for hydration, and between the intense heat during the day and the necessary fan at night it keeps me from getting sick. I don't ask for AC rooms. They are cold and I would get sick.
-I love chai and I drink it a lot. I have gotten good at telling the good from the bad. I kinda of wish I hadn't and just lived in bliss.
-I am eating a lot of bread, sugar, and fried and oily things. I think I am loosing weight. I need to eat more fruits. Yes mother, more fruits. I have eaten many bananas and guavas, but I must lay off the guavas. G-d knows I eat enough things that get my stomach going.

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

Orchha

Orchha

Overview: Orchha is a quiet town. It is tiny and was built in the 16th century by the Bundela Rajput chieftain Rudra Pratap. He thought the river that runs through it would make it a great capital. Its fame continued when Raja Bur Singh Ju Deo arrived and built a series of chhatries. The architecture is reminiscent of moore palaces Sarita and I visited in Barcelona. It is a religious site because of its Ram Raj Temple, a palace turned temple. It all came about after a dream visitation had by Lord Rama, Madhukar Shah's wife, Ganesh Kuanwari brought a statue of the g-d from Ayodhya to Orchha. It is also interesting because while the king was devoted to Lord Krishna, the queen was devoted to Lord Rama.

My perspective: It is definitely a quiet town (well, quiet for an INDIAN town) and the palace and temple are beautiful. What struck me was the sunset above the buildings, the intensity of the river, the idea that the whole town is basically built around these old and stunning buildings. Also, it was also neat to see how many Indians come to visit it because of the central temple.

I had a nice time there. The first afternoon I decided to go to the two main palaces and found myself amongst a school tour of 110 students that were all between 7-11. It was totally overwhelming as each of them wanted to say hello, ask me where I was from and talk to me to practice English. It is one of those situation where the first 15 were really cute, but then there were 95 more. I mostly walked quickly past them, only to find 12 more hidden in another corner of the palace and screaming "HELLO! HELLO SIR!" When the students were not talking to me the teachers were. They basically asked me the same questions. I had a nice time, albeit an overwhelming one too. At the end of the day I decided to run away from everything at sunset. So I went to the highest point of the palace and set there, totally alone, listening to Laurie Anderson talk about the end of the world, and watching the sun set over Orchha. I need more sunsets like those.

The I had two nite stay there so the next day I took it really easy. I visited the other sites, I walked around the bazzar, and I spend the afternoon talking to a Brazilian couple I met. They are traveling for a year together so it was nice to hear their stories and speak Portuguese. We sat at a restaurant from about 1-4 chatting. Later in the evening the electricity in the city was out (as has happened in MANY CASES on my travels) so I had dinner with a couple of Israeli women in the dark. I think I just swallowed on bug with my meal. It was fun. Since power outages are so common many shops and restaurants have a flashlight and candle system they pull out. So, unlike the NYC black out where things just fell apart (I was there) here the lights go out, folks pull out their candles and life goes on. At 8pm the town was dark, but the crowd continued on.

In Orchha I was met a three guys who invited themselves to sit with me on the bridge over the river to watch the sunset. They did not actually invite themselves, they just stood above me for about 10 minutes until I invited them. This was interesting because it allowed me to do research on the whole male bonding of India. Findings:

-Men are good friends and explore with each other sexually.
-Married men keep their tight friendship with each other.
-The only people that know about the affairs are usually the ones involved in it. Of course, none of the three talking to me ever did anything. They only knew of "friends" who did it.

I also ate a lot of sweets in Orchha and introduced many travelers to the wonders of barfi and many other milk-sugar combinations.

The departure from Orchha was commom. I got on a VikramTaxi. This is the rickshaw that is meant for 5 people and they fit 12. In my case they fit 14 people. It is always exciting, cheap and a bit painful. Upon arrival in the bus station the attendants (the same exact two people that I saw the prior day) told me completely different information. The bus was not at 11am, it was at 1pm. The bus was not government, it was private, and it was not deluxe, it was common. In my Julio voice I said firmly. "I don't care that I have to wait. I care that you could have told me this yesterday. Would that have been so hard?" In usual Indian style they just looked at me and shrugged their shoulders. And, of course, I went across the way and asked about the bus fro another person and was told that in fact it was a 11am and it was goverment deluxe. Don't be fooled by deluxe. It is only important that you know that non-deluxe is worst.

I got on the bus and met Kentoro (Ken) a cool Japanese guy who spents some time in Brasil and speaks pretty good Portuguese. He has been traveling for 2 years. And I met Phillip and Claire, a nice couple from the UK. Together we muscled through the bumpy road to Khajuraho where I am now, and where I will leave in about 2 hours to Satna (4 hr bus) to go to Varanasi (8 hr train).

Will write more about Khajuraho next time. In short, erotica on temples, literally 100 people/hr asking if you want taxi, water, shawl, food, bike, internet, anything, anything. It is totally overwhelming and quite annoying. But, I am learning to live with it more and more. The constant buzz of requests for us travelers to buy just about anything.

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

Rishikesh and Orchha

RISHIKESH & ORCHHA
Sexual Harrassment, Wonderful Friends, and an Adventurous Departure

Current Location: Orchha, a small town a bit south of Delhi that is famous for being small and having a beautiful mahal. It is, and I have taken lots of pixs. It is nice, too many bugs, but nice. Tomorrow I will be here again, taking it easy and getting deeper into a wonderful book I was told to buy - DISCOVERING INDIA by Nehru, India's firs Prime Minister. Next day to Khajuraho to two days then Varanasi for 5 days, and then Bombay where I start my southern route for November.

I am going to do my best here. There are bugs on my screen, in my keyboard and yes, all over me.

TWo days ago I left Rishikesh (the town with all the tourist). It was a sad departure. I loved the connections I made there and the Chileans and friends made it so nice. I miss them all. As it was I stayed there three more days then I intended and it was totally worth it. The Magdas, Rumina, Francesca, Phoenix, Chanda and the other women were fabulous.

SEXUAL HARRASSMENT
In Rishikesh I witnessed the dangers of sexually suppressed India. Twelve of us went to a religious festival with about 5,000 people and after it was done we all spilled onto two streets to get out. When it dawned on the 2 men and 10 women in our group that we should have waited it was too late. We were pressed against hundreds of people whose bodies were tightly pressed against ours. Immediately we knew something was wrong and immediately we were split up. I stayed with two of the women and literally shoved men out of the way that were touching them EVERYWHERE, arms, breasts, between their legs, ass,

EVERYWHERE. One of them was right in front of me and I was able to protect her, the other was in front of her and she made it through literally hitting men in her path. She slapped the, cursed at them, hit them. But, with every one man she shoved, ten touched her. It was intense and devastating and oddly enough a cultural experience which none of the women (and I) ever want to have again. Toughest were two of the women who got split up and were on their own. Their saving grace was a shop keeper who ushered them into his shop after witness the madness that was happening to them. In the end everyone was physically fine, and it took a couple of days of meditating and yoga for us all to come down. I appreciated that no one blamed India. We were all aware of the politics of manhood/machismo and its unfortunate effects.

What is this all about?
India is an intensely sexually repressed country. Men and women do not touch in public. I am told post marriage relations are awful, and men and women just don't get along in the physical sense. Add to that the fact that historically women have lacked power and it's just bad news. Today I read in the paper that a woman was taken from her home by teenagers and rapped. Let's be clear, sexual harrassment and rape happens everywhere. I am just giving you some of what I witnessed and some of what I have learned.

Interestingly, some of what I have LOVED here is the intimacy between men. Men hold hands in public, sit on each other, touch all the time. I have loved to see it, but I also feel the undercurrent of it is also dangerous and a response to sexual repression. There is a lot of debate here. But, according to some sources who have done research on the topic and some folks I have spoken to that do sexual health work here the male relationships is a way to deal with the lack of physicality with women. For the most part the relationship is non-sexual, but in many cases men are physical with each other in order to fulfill their unmet needs. Let's be clear. Homosexuality, especially fornication, in India is punishable by life imprisonement so nobody would ever say they are gay. They just are... Yes, there is a growing gay community here as in everywhere else. But for now the men are close, the women are less powerful and the relationship is very, very complex.

WONDERFUL FRIENDS
The folks I met in Rishikesh were critical in my path. As many of you know I have felt a lot of anymosity toward travelers and knowing them allowed me to accept that "travelers are people too," a realization that is necessary for my survival in the next year plus.

Beyond that the women are simply stunning. In addition to being beautiful outside they all have hearts of gold and in each of their ways allowed me into their lives and into their breakfast/lunch/dinner tables. I will see them again. Two in Goa for a birthday celebration and one in Thailand for a half-moon party.

On my last night we had a going away dinner and it was fabulous and fun and I was sad. Pictures (if I ever find a FAST connection) will come.

ADVENTUROUS DEPARTURE
I was a bit stuck in Rishikesh, but the day before I was to leave I was told to got to a shop with my bag and R250. I went and there was Mr. Parwel in his moped waiting for me. I got up on it with bag and all and we zipped through the pedestrian streets until we got to the bus station. Once there we got me ticket. But, we were 1 hour early so he said, COME TO CHAI at MY HOUSE. Off we went and I spend an hour at his very simple home with his wife and child (yes, pixs). We had chai, spoke about Brazil and he spoke about his family. As I was leaving his wife and he presented me with a picture of the G-d they pray. He said it was to protect me. I was touched and felt once again very lucky to be here. We and his 3 yr-old son got on the mopped and zipped to the bus station where I took a bus from 10pm-4am.

I arrived in Delhi (which I have kind of not liked so far) and at 4am bargained, yelled, screamed at the three wheel drivers

until they charged me a reasonable price. And, the driver got lost, and I had to help him find his way. Argh. These days I have my process. Example from yesterday morning.

First, the ride from Uncle's house to Khan Market should cost R30.

First TW: How much to KM? R70! What, it's supposed to be R30. R70! That's not nice!
Second TW: How much to KM? R80! What, it's supposed to be R30. R80! That's not nice!
Third TW: How much to KM? R40! Let's go.

I have saved here and there, but the real deal is that it's fun. Lately the TW drivers laugh at me because I have been taking the vikrams/tempos. These are TW that fit about 10 people in them instead of just me. We all get on and go from pt A to pt B. A normal ride in a R30 TW costs R5. At train, etc stations I pass by all the TW drivers who yell overinflated prices at me and they say. "It's tight in there with all the people!" I say, "I LOVE INDIA. I LOVE INDIANS!!!!" We all laugh. In many cases I do go by myself. For instance, this morning I took a R200 taxi to the train stations since I had to be there at 5:30am and I was in no mood to fight.

Ok, the bugs are all over me. Gotta go.

Love and rockets,

Julio

Yoga, Culture and My Anti-Foreigner Perspective

Rikishesh
10-11-2005 National Coming Out Day

NCOD Act
First, I came out to someone for the first time today. Whether folks guessed it or not I don't know. But, it was NCOD and I thought I should do my part. I came out to Magda, an wonderful Chilean woman I met in the last day.

YOGA Capital of the World
Rikishesh is known as the Yoga Capital of the World. I am not sure why since they basically teach Iyengar everywhere. Now, yes, it's everywhere, but still. It should be Iyengar capital of the world. I am ok saying this because I am certain it was foreigner who dubbed it that. The city also has many, many ashrams where people live, stay for months, and learn about meditation and yoga and Buddhist things and Krishna. It's quite an interesting place, very spiritual, with lots of Sadhus (Indian Spiritual Seekers, many who have given up their lives as business men and drs. etc to seek enlightment). By 4am the town is awake with people doing their dutiful chores and by 8pm it's starts to slow down and by 10pm it's dead. It's quite wonderful in these ways. I was up at 6:30 today and watched the sunset in front of the Ganges with folks meditating.

Rikishesh's yoga and meditation has also attracted tourists here for ages. According to Lonely Planet the Beatles made this town the site that it is. They came here in 1968 and stayed at the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi ashram. Ringo did not like it, but everyone else did, for a while. Later they all left because the Maharishi was a ass to women. It is where they wrote Yellow Submarine and basically their double disc - White Album. From that point on Rikishesh has attracted foreigners from far and wide. Still, most of the tourists are actually Israelis who find it close and also, as I have been told, that if offers a liberation Israel does not. After that you have your Americans, Japanese, Europeans, and the last to arrive, the South Americans since SA is so far.

What does this mean? It means Rikishesh speaks English, tourist English. It means I see hundreds of travelers every day. It means I am pulling my hair out trying to balance cultural diversity (which I love) with cultural co-optation (which I hate). So, I went from the Himalayas and total immersion to here. Yes, I have felt cultural shock in India, but it has been the shock of how many NON-Indians can change the face of a place.

My CACA, My Life
So, let's be clear. We live in a world where I can't possibly call the kettle black. And, I live in a world where so much that comes up for me is my own caca. Am I this "type" of tourist? Am I the guy today who stood in front of a beautiful prayer ceremony having his moment with the Ganges or am I the 4 tourists that, like bees, swarmed around a woman and her daugther trying to do a prayer and put their prayer candle to float in the river? I had a zoom camera. So, what does that make me? What is culturally appropriate? 10 feet, 20 feet? I don't know, I really don't. I do know I had to leave the prayer ceremony because I got overwhelmed by the tourists and our collective digital media. I meditated and then came here to write to you - to breath it out so to speak.

I don't know if it's the women who wear low-rise pants in a country where that is just not ok, or the way that women wear halter type tops when it has been written everywhere that this is not ok. Maybe it's the men with the tatoos of "OM" or the fact that so many tourists have money and buy motorcycles in the pedestrian streets. Indians do it too, but it feels different. The bindi, the dot married Indian women wear. Foreigner women and men wear them - what the f***ing, f***? Or, maybe, it's all just like the pictures. You take them because you must have them, you must have a piece of this culture so that you can call it your own when in fact you only understand an ion of what it is all about.

Let me go back to the beginning. I arrived here 48 hours ago. Back then (and in travel time that is really long ago) I was in shock. I went to a hotel where I only saw white people (from all over the world), I went to eat at place where I saw 20% Indians, I went to a restaurant where there was no Indian food only granola, swandwiches and coffee. I was terrified. I ate with a fork and I hated it. I hated them all. Intensily.

Then I met Richard from England, and a guy from Canada and another guy from England, and a guy from Israel and a girl from Israel and we talked about the World Cup teams and I had a great time, while secretly thinking - since I hate everyone here I am glad Brazil is the best team in the world.

Richard told me about a hard yoga class. This new young guy - Prakesh - has combined new styles and has been attracting all the foreigners. I thought, yoga, ok. Let's go. Not ONE Indian in the class. There were 25 of us. Again, it was not about internationalism because the room had people from all over the world. It was the non-Indian piece. Well, of course, we had our Indian guru.

It just so happens that the class last night was changed from yoga to pranyama (sp) breathing. P. breathing is a type of exercise that uses breath work to get you to go "under" to experience intense feelings, often times from childhood or some pain you may have inside. It opens your chakras. Now, P. breathing only really works if you are totally connected to the people who are doing it around you. I did it once before at one of my yoga retreats in the US and it did nothing for me.

We started the exercises and I don't know if it was where I am in my life, this trip, the Himalayan air, the madness in my heart, but I breathed. I breathed like my little life depended on it for a good 1.5-2 hours. I breathed fast, slow, faster, faster, faster, and when I could not do it anymore I kept breathing to the rythms we were given. And suddenly it clicked, the girl next to me and I just went at it and I could feel the vibrations of her body near mine, I could feel the breaths of the people around me and yet I chose only me. I focused deeper than I ever have, and my lungs expanded, my diaphram contracted, my arms went up and down as directed and BAM - tears. They just rolled down my face, and I could feel them near my nose and they flew as I kept breathing. Near the end we slowed down, we lay down (the breathing was on our knees). I lay there and so much flashed through my heart and I focused and I cried.

The moment the lights went on the three women around me came over and hugged me and thanked me. I was a bit lost at first. Then, Ramina said - Thank you for you energy. I felt connected to you and carried at so many points during the breathing. I thanked them too because I too felt the connection. One of them suggested it was the Latin Energy (they are all Chileans). Maybe it was, I am not sure. I think it was more. I felt, as was suggested to me in the Himalayas, that beyond the skin, the bones, the nationalities was our energy inside. That energy is the essence that connects us all to each other, that makes us fall in love with each other, makes us help other without always knowing why, makes us feel hunger, cold, laugh and cry.

After class we all went to dinner together and laughed alot, shared travel stories and I have been spending time with them. It's complicated.

I am beginning to discover where I fall, or better, I am getting to practice where I have often felt I fall. Here are some of my ideas - TODAY.

I don't like cultural ownership.
People cannot convert to Hindu so let the Hindus be. Those that want to convert to other things should do a pilgrimage to learn. So, so many of the foreigners are here dopped out on drugs and finding enlightment. If people came to places like this for yoga, meditation, etc to learn from the best, etc then fine. Learn, go home or do, truly as the Sadhus do. I heard of several Canadian men who have been in the Himalayas for 15 years, in the forest, dedicated to enlightment. I respect them intensily. They are not picking the good and throwing away the bad.

I don't like people wearing things that are deeply cultural.
Fine, wear a shawl, wear, a hat, wear even a sari (I am not sure how culturally significant they are yet). But, a bindi, hindu paraphanelia, etc that rubbs me the wrong way. For instance, I am all for people wearing Israeli hats, the beautiful blouses from the region, but if folks started to make fashion statements with kippas I would not be happy.

Audre Lorde has a beautiful poem called WHITE SISTERS, RADICAL FRIENDS and it talks about white women who have lots and lots of pictures of themselves with their colored friends on their walls, and stuff from places like Africa. But, they do nothing to help the lives of the underrepresented. I say, come to Rikishesh, but also donate money don't just participate in this culture because it's cheap in the exchange market or because it's based on work and LIFETIME dedication and not currency. Don't pick and choose.

TODAY, and G-d knows I can change, I think am definitely participating in this madness and I don't know if my travels are helping or hurting this global process. I am one of the people I am talking about. I cannot deny it. In my heart I hope that my commitment to the work I have done and want to continue to do balances it all out in some way. G-d, I don't know. For now, I remind myself every moment of every day - be respectful, you are a guest in this beautifully complex country and as a guest there are things you should do and things you should not do. Take the lead from your hosts, start by asking, follow your gut, and lead with your heart.

Julio

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

Char Dham Part II

Just wanted to add a couple more things to the Char Dham entry.

SCHOOL:
It was amazing. Wherever we went, no matter how poor, the kids had they full uniforms and went to school every morning. Many of the them walked for miles up or down the road next to the fast moving cars. They held hands, they laughed, waved at us, but they went to school. In some cases gparents took them, mothers carried them. The schools were open air, we could see them as we drove by.

ANTI-AMERICAN:
Of course, the tour had its anti-whatevers. A man who made sure at every point that I knew there was something wrong with the US. The food, the people, the religions, the government, the power, the way Americans dress, the laziness, etc.

I just listened the first couple of days since I basically agreed with everything he was saying. For instance, why do American continue to buy MADE in CHINA products when the government disagrees with the Chinese government? By the 4th day it I didn't mind the criticism, but it just got old. I fought back a little bit, and tried to be respectful. But, of course, I mistepped a little.

One day he pointed to my Lonely Planet and went off about how Americans depict Indians and his culture. As politely as I could I told him I agreed that countries sometimes depict other countries unfairly, but Lonely Planet is made in the UK and the editor and most of the writers of the India book are Indians who have migrated to the UK and also the US. He looked at me very annoyed and in disbelief. I nicely put the book in front of him and told him to look at it for himself. He picked it up, studied the inside cover and was quite for 2-3 days. The last couple of days I got some more of his wrath, but I decided that with both of his children living in America he has got a lot of caca to work through so I just smiled every time he said something.

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net

CHAR DHAM TOUR

The Char Dham Tour
September 29-October 9

First I wanted you to say THANK YOU - DANYAVAAD - to Vinod Ganatra who encouraged (true India style - that means she said "You MUST do this..." to do this tour. I so, so, so wish she could have done it with me. I also wanted to tell her daughter Nisha that she really needs to get with the program and do this tour!!! LOL!!!!

Life is a Journey - Complete it (Hwy Sign)

The Char Dham Tour is a religious Hindu tour done by hundreds of thousands of Indians every year. It consists of going into the Himalayas to ancient temples where different Hindu G-ds did something sacred, and honoring a lot and doing things like going to the mouth of the Ganges River to take a holy bath and wash away all of your sins. There are several spots, but the pilgrimage is focuses on four temples - Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath and Badrinath. Getting to the temples requires that one goes as high as 12,000 feet in some cases and trek on foot (in my case only) for 14KM up (steep) and 14K down. I will let you go to a website that explains them further and focus on my experience on this entry. For more on the temples -- http://char-dham.indiantravelportal.com

My tour started with a crazy bus trip from Delhi to Rishikesh, the town from where we departed. The bus conductor (here there is a driver and a conductor) got in a big fight with someone, and then the driver got involved. After a few men grabbed each other, slapped each other and screamed a lot, the two got back on the bus. The police then put a barracade in front of the bus and the driver promplty tried to run it over - silly man. The police then came in the bus and pulled both of them out by force. At this point we were stuck in front of the bus station line and holding up traffic. The passengers looked around and for about 1.5 hours nobody came by or told us anything. I could not understand anything that was happening so I opened the Tao of Pooh and read the first few chapters. Eventually the two returned and we started our very, very fast bus ride to Rishikesh. Crazy? Hmmm, not so much anymore. Many of the men I have seen in India are pretty machista and they do quite a bit of yelling and slapping. Yes, they don't really punch, they slap each other around then yell some more, and then it's over. My ignorance is bliss.

The tour officially started on the 30th of September. I woke up early (6:30am - my normal time now) and went outside. The bus,which you will see a picture of when I can load it up was small, dirty, but ready to take on the hills of the Himalayas. I, and 25 Indians entered it at 8am (departure time, 7am). IST is critical to know about - Indian Standard Time. Within 1 hour of being on the bus Mr. Saraugi came over to sit next to me. He announced that I needed to understand that for the next 10 days I was part of the bus family. I smiled and told him I was happy to be. Yes, I was the lone foreigner and here I was with 6 different Indian families from all over India (North - Assam, Kolkata, Central - Bombay, South - Bangalore and Mysoor). Everyone spoke great Indian English, a version of English I have come to understand more and more. I laughed inside at my life and the things I get myself into, and I was completely, intensily happy that I would spend the next 10 days of my life on a religious pilgrimage without any other foreigners and with a group of people that I could come to know and love for the days to come.

Always Alert Avoids Accidents (Hwy Sign)

The bus ride as a transportation experience was wild. I love to bunjee jump, hang glide, etc, but I was not ready for the hundreds of times I imagined my body falling over the precipices we passed by. The side of the road was literally one foot from the wheel of the bus. Yes, the Indian government has done a great job at creating roads to get to Char Dham, yes our bus driver rocked and got us around the bends safely, but man oh man did l live on the edge, literally. Additionally, many of the roads were one way and we spent time spinning around other cars and trying to avoid being hit. Cars, iron bars, people, etc, passed by my window at about ONE inch distance. I could have stolen the apples one woman had on her lap.

Be a Friend on the Bend (Hwy Sign)

Inside the bus I was adopted by Mr. Saraugi and some member of his family (not all) and they fed me most of the trip - nuts, spices, fruits, curried fruits, roots I have never heard of, leaves of some special tree in Asam and so much more. They were great. Mr. Saraugi set next to me most of the trip and I absolutely adore him. I was the youngest person on the bus, his wife is 34, he is 42 and everyone else was 59-70 something. So, Mr. Saraugi made me his little brother and proceeded to command me around, which was fine with me. I fought back when I didn't like it and we laughed a lot.

The bus ride also consisted of many, many religious songs, a lot of talking and laughing, a lot of sleeping and some rumblings about the driving. Still, in general nobody really complained. This was a pilgrimage, it's suppose to be hard.

Without Effort, There is Nothing (Hwy Sign).

The 10 day experience was like any 10 day tour you may expect. As the days went on people got to know each other, some groups stayed to themselves, and I kind of floated from each of the 4 couples (The Sharmans, The Chakrabortys, The Pratanarthans, The Ganeshs), the Boys Club (5 men from Bangalore that came together) and the Saraugi family (8 members). With each group I learned something new - about the g-ds, the food in the south, the lives of their children, what the tour meant for them, and I shared about myself. With each group I was the same and different and I molded to their personalities and spoke to them about Brazil and the US. I found out on the 8th day that they had all given me a nickname - Langoon (sp) a type of tall, agile monkey from India. Fitting as I have been referred to as a monkey for most of my life.

The ebbs and flows also came. The first couple of days were wonderful. The excitement was in the air. We got to Yamumotri and took the first Holy Bath and people were rivetting. I loved it. They all welcomed me in participating in the different practices, and I only participated when invited. On about the 5th day people we were all pretty tired. It was the day that we were just on the bus, from 7am (8am IST) to 6pm. This was my anti-India morning. I did not want to be on the bus (my knees really hurt), I did not want to eat the roots of anything, I did not want to be anywhere. I put on my headset and looked out the window. But, by lunch time I was ok and back on the band wagon. The last day was good but also tough since were again on the bus all day.

There was a great deal that was amazing for me. Here is a list to give you a sense.

-Being inside Indian culture was invaluable as I travel more here. The group and the mountains kept me closed off from the few foreigners I spotted from the bus. I wanted it that way. It was important.
-The kindness of people who took the time to explain things to me, who did not allow me to pay for my meals because I was their " guest", the endless help they gave me as I ate with my hands, asked how to say things, etc, was simply amazingly human - beyond race, nationality, class or anything else. At was about, as Hindus say, the energy behind the shell we wear (our bodies).
-The Himalayas are magical. The roads, the rocks, the trees, the monkeys, the snow, the sunset, the sunrise, the cold, the hot, the treks. It is truly a blessed place and everyone should see it in their lifetime. Something very, very great and powerful has to have made it because humans could never make it so perfect.
-The spirituality of the Temples was beyond Hindu. You could feel and taste it in the air. The commitment of the travelers, the age of the practices, the ancient everything that told about history and life and struggle. Rich, poor, southern, northern, no matter what, people were there to praise the g-ds.
-The poverty, the hard life of the Nepalese who came over the border, the children working with their families. the people breaking rocks for a living, the cold, the struggle to carry a tourist either on your back or on a pallaquin (Indian or foreigner) up the mountain for little money. It was all so intense and eye opening, and horrific and beautiful when the children in all of this madness would look at me and smile, just laugh at the odd foreigner or brigthen up when I took out my camera.
-Participating in the practices, especially the holy baths felt like I was in fact washing away my sins, rebirthing in some way, getting into this phase of my crazy life, remerging from the last few years of tough encounters both in the professional (evil boss) and the personal (evil ex) realms.

And, perhaps most important for me on this tour was a conversation I had with one of the man from the Boys Club, the one that looks scaringly like my grandfather Jair. While so many of you who love me have told me what he said, it always the stranger's encounter that hits us. As I discussed Hinduism and Buddhism with him I spoke about the guilt I so often feel for being able to do this. Knowing what I know about poverty, about my family in Brazil, about slavery. and etc I have had difficulty negotiating my own priviledge and figuring out how to sit in my own skin as I see struggle and simply travel through it knowing what I have back in the States. He said it simply, "This is what the G-ds have given you, accept it. This is your karma." So, I continue on my travels and my own heart working to accept that my mother's struggle allows me my priviledge, my step-dad's teachings give me a strong moral compass, that my own cleaning of U.S. homes as a child worker helping my mom, and my recent good work allows me what I have today. As I tell all of my kids of wealth that I train to give their resources and make this world a better place. "Guilt isn't going to help you or any of the NGOs that need your money, talent and commitment will. Moveon.org and do something." Isn't it funny how in life we so often forget to listen to ourselves?

Anyhoo, that's it for now. I could tell you more about how I learned that farting and burping are accepted by some folks in India and that it happens while you are at the dinner table, or that I learned how a female mule does #1, or that I learned how to order potatoes, ocra, a few breakfasts and lots and lots of chai in Hindi, but I will write more later.

Lots of kisses to all.

Julio

"Into the Woods to Find the Giant..."
www.brazilbean.net