Gotta Run!

Kanyakumari: get your fortune read by parrots

A small little town at the southern most tip of India where you can see the sun set and rise at the convergence of the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean and Arabian Sea. I was too tired for to wake up to see it rise and had to leave before it set so that was a fail. I did happen to see another puja honoring Durga (I think anyway) at the temple. The torches caught my eye first but the elephant had my attention the rest of the night. Have you ever seen an elephant crying? It's just as heart-breaking to watch, and perhaps even more so when I thought how a man, over ten times smaller than this giant creature, could cause it so much pain. It took me a while to discover the cause but some teens were brave enough to practice their English and tell me. It was beacuse the elephant would not stand for the puja so the captor decided to beat him. So what I don't understand is if they consider the elephant to be sacred, god-like in fact, why would they treat it in this manner? If this was your god, would you beat it too? I guess the same goes for their cows. If they are so sacred in their religion, how is okay for them to graze on the trash in your streets and survive on eating billboards? Religion unquestioned is blind faith.

Sorry for the rant. Enjoy the photos!

On the train ride to Kanyakumari.

The elephant and his captor.

I'm very sorry.

The procession with torches and diety idol in the background.

Before catching the ferry over to the Vivekananda rock and Thiruvalluvar Statue.

The parrots that I didn't get my fortune read at.

Paying repects to Gandhi at the Gandhi Mandapam.

Pondicherry: une petite France

After being in India for so long, it was a pleasant surprise to find this city. Actually, I disbelieved I was still in India walking from Rue to Rue. Well, almost anyway.

It felt like La Rochelle again.

It would have been more French without the banana leaves and blessing marks :P.

Another festival to celebrate the every day: Manabasa Gurubar (part of Festivals of Odisha).

Lakshimi. the elephant, blessing an Indian after receiving money on its trunk.

Sunrise, over the Bay of Bengal. Yes I woke up for it, you should be proud :D.

Auroville: the not a golden golf ball city

I met three girls back in Varkala that had volunteered with the Sadhana Forest in this aspiring universal city. I only spent the morning here before catching a bus to Chennai but it felt closed off to the uninitiated. I couldn't help comparing it to the Sakigake in Haruki Murakami's 1Q84. If you want to visit here, I suggest joining a project like the Sadhana or visiting after you've met an Aurovillian willing to take you around.

A model of the city after completion.

The great bayan tree at the center of the city.

The twelve meditation rooms are represented by flowers, each corresponding to an attribute of the Mother. You see them on these slabs of stone on the way to the Matrimandir.

The main attraction of the city, the Matrimandir.

Chennai: the big toilet

I have to honestly say I didn't remember much about this city except that it smelt really, really bad. You would think I would be accustomed to it by now but if something stinks, it stinks. I think this was the only place in India where I saw men, children and women openly urinating in the streets. I even had a cold but the scent wasn't dulled.

Actually, I lied. The airport was very memorable. The transportation options took you literally to the doors of this wonderful new building. I must have been in a lot of awe because I forgot to take a picture.

Anything wrong with this picture? Yes, that's right folks, the clutch to the bus broke on the way to Chennai. Just another ordinary day in India.

Cassava! Okay, Chennai wasn't all bad.

This merchant was selling these for the festival. I don't think she could believe I was taking her photo.

Inside the Kapaleeshwarar Temple.

Next stop, Sri Lanka. After first considering to come here three years ago, I'm finally going!

South Kerala

Allepey

As if to confirm the Wheel of Dhamma works, I forgot my change at the train ticket booking counter and the woman actually came to find me to return it. If we all began the day by starting a ripple of goodwill, how many other people's day would be brightened by the end? To the next day and following? When Han and I were traveling in Indonesia and ran into a pickle, I remember telling her I believed in the goodness of others and I still do.

Charged on this golden energy, I journeyed to Alappuzha: the backwaters of Kerala awaited and coconut fiber factories. This city was advertised as the Venice of India but I felt like I was back in Amsterdam. A peacefulness prevailed drifting through the small canals surrounded by greenery that was not synonymous to the hustle and bustle of Venice. The backwaters of Kerala are one of the few locations  in the world to practice agriculture below sea level. This raised many questions in my mind: How did they develop this farming method? If other parts of India had this ability, would economy of households improve? Would salt farming along with rice paddy farming be viable?

The start of the backwaters from Allepey.

The houseboats.

Everyday life and a common sight in the backwaters.

The rice paddy fields below sea level.

I searched for the coir, or coconut fibers, factories in the afternoon. I had a déjà vu moment of being back in the jute factory of Bangladesh except with more freedom. One of the employees cordially gave me on a tour of the factory. Massive man operated looms were used to manufacture coir carpets and coconut fiber mats of any design. I was jubilant to find the welcome mats were actually spelled properly.

One of the giant looms. The man on the left was introduced as the strongest man in the company.

An employee weaving coir.

Coconut fiber carpets ready for export.

Varkala

My last stop in Kerala was a workaway volunteering at a coffee shop I had been looking forward to since arriving in India. I got to the Coffee Temple in Varkala with the thought of staying two weeks to relax and plan for Sri Lanka. I cut it short when I saw the real face of the owner, Leslie. I had contacted him months back and kept in contact with him weeks before arriving inVarkala. He was informative about good places to visit in Southern India and replied to messages dutifully. I owe it to him for passing on contact information to a coffee plantation I could visit and stay for free. Yet, his drunk, rude and abrasive manner were his true colors. (It was sad to hear he had treated the staff on the coffee plantation in a similar way. I discovered this when I was about to leave and will follow up on this in a later post after Maldives.) Imagine going from an environment encouraging the recycling of positive energy to a dark vortex. To maintain peace, dhamma teachings encouraged the avoidance of these situations. It's better to take a step back and not get completely sucked in to maintain your own peace of mind.

My first sight by the Varkala Cliff. No big deal.

Have you ever wondered how those coconuts come off of the tree?

Mari's cat, Pitipuki, with her one week old kittens.

You never know how far the wheel of dharma rolls. Life is such that if you create negative energy it goes to others. It could trigger reactions in others you did not intend but was inevitable to happen. Wouldn't you rather receive a spark of positive energy? To forgive others or to not let them get under your skin is not being passive, but giving yourself the peace you deserve. There is still much for me to learn. I need to keep planting within me more seeds of compassion and ridding those of anger and ignorance. They only lead to sorrow in others for which I don't want to generate. Happiness or suffering, we are always craving something. Sadness could be caused by either. You met someone awful; you want to escape from them. You met someone wonderful yet you have to leave them too. Either way sadness arises. I leave Varkala heavy-hearted since I've met both of these types of people. I can't deny the yin and yang of life. I miss all of you my dear sisters and brothers. As for the bad seeds I've met, may you find clearance in your mind and heart one day to realize your faults.
So I escaped, but not without meeting other awesome travelers, making new sisters and brothers and knowing that I want to further my skills on the path of coffee. Next, I hightailed it to Kanyakumari, thinking of two people:
    1. Ana Soper: as this place was her favorite site in India and
    2. Mari Pyhajarvi: Mari, Mari, Kanyakumari. I won't forget you, Tia.

Vinoy pulling a shot.

Le Chef.



Mari and Vinod setting up for dinner, Kerala-style.

Late afternoon yoga with Ludo (photo courtesy: Melinda Carpovich).



Hermanito and budding tattoo artist, Sergio, with a really fluffy puppy.

Venting and Vipassana

A much needed meditation session after an eruption from within.

First of all, I have to express my gratitude to Raphael with whom I had volunteered with in Nepal for the Vipassana meditation suggestion. Originally, I was planning on passing the whole spiritual pathways that many come to India to seek. It turns out that you may really need it coming to a chaotic country that helps awaken a dormant volcano. I was getting all bent out of shape from the ongoing touts one morning that I blew up in this guy's face while eating breakfast in Udaipur. He asked where I was from and proceeded to think I had lied to him. I spilled enough lava in the next ten minutes to form a new volcanic island. Have u ever felt a powerful energy building up inside of you about to expel the second some unlucky sucker said the wrong word?

The stewing of the lava begins with the stares; the absolutely shameless, hard stares even if you are evil staring back. They examine you up and down for a bit, stare a little more before looking away, proclaiming with utter certainty 'China', 'Japan', 'Korean' or 'Nepal'. Luckily, the guy that received the steam, Khan, and I worked out the argument and had a nice long chat over chai in his shop nearby. He shed some light on the situation. There are only two things on an Indian's mind: business, sex, or both. They call out to you to try and catch your attention using any method. It must have worked for them for them to continue it. Imagine being from Japan/Korea/China and hearing someone else speaking your language: surprise, amazement, shock, all emotions that leave a cute expression so they continue it. I kept analyzing where my anger stemmed from with no concrete answer. Is it prejudice, the incessant discrimination, indignation at the violation of my individuality, the never fitting in in either nationality while they continued to hit home at the oppression I've faced, or all and more?

Khan's advice was "ignore them". This was coming from a guy trying to sell carved paintings to me. Another friend was right to say they are not accustomed to the idea of a heterogeneous society (quoting Calvin from his Monsoon Diaries). If you ask them what an American looks like, the best answer I've received was 'I don't know but not you.' To save you some stress, lie...or ignore. I've refrained from the former as I feel like I'm perpetuating a cycle and am cheating. Therefore, I will try the latter as I find myself some good earphones. (Ultimately you're on holiday, save the speech for someone who can understand you completely)
I think we as Americans tend to feel the need to be right, stand firm, argue till we get the last word, or so my pen pal, Anshul, the one I met in Bikaner told me. Anshul also advised that Indian men aren't use to seeing women smiling or dressed exposing too much so I should avoid both. Great, so I can't even smile while on vacation, which he and I knew was not going to happen :P.

If you think my case was bad, you should read Rose Chasm's article.

Such as it's easier to get aggravated in seconds rather than explaining the truth. I can't expect behavior to be changed overnight. If it takes one person 3 years to learn right (學好三年，學壞三天), how long will it take an entire nation?

At the end of this I would like to quote Mr. Brown from Wonder by R.J. Palacio: "When when given the choice to be right or kind, always choose kind."

The chai and samosa breakfast that I was enjoying before becoming infuriated.

So what is this Vipassana mediation? Well, it's a way of living more harmoniously taught as it had been by Gotama Buddha long ago. I can't go into much detail of the technique as tradition dictates the theory and practice should be learned hand in hand. The schedule itself is already enough to make you consider if you are capable of surviving the course. The gong for 4:30 AM meditation came at 4:00 and the day ended around 9:30 PM. During the day, you were expected to eat, sleep, and breathe meditation in complete silence unless you had a question for the teacher or management. Besides the lack of any form of communication, reading and writing was also prohibited. Fortunately for me, I didn't consider it too much because I just showed up and realized I would be expected this for ten full days. I was shocked but went with it thinking there was no sense in bowing out now when the rainy weather shoved me indoors anyway. I don't think I had any serious inclination to give up till the eighth day when my mind wandered further and further from the meditation hall. I had difficulties sleeping on the fifth to seventh nights. The lack of sleep gave me a pounding feeling in my head. My body was not tired in the least but my brain was exhausted. The teacher explained that the brain felt this way as it no longer had the normal outlets for the emotions. So, I had a lot of deep demons to fight. The majority of the food was great. It consisted of fully vegetarian (almost vegan if it weren't for the chai and completely gluten free) meals: breakfast, lunch and then a light snack at dinnertime. Every single meal used the plentiful coconut in some way. My favorite was when it was used for the coconut appam for breakfast and the chutneys. My least favorite was the bland boiled rice present at every lunch except the last, when we had biryani to celebrate the close of the course. I avoided eating the boiled rice, which meant I was ravenous for the light snack (flattened rice with grated coconut and raw sugar) and banana dinner. It was a great way to learn tolerance, discipline, peacefulness, and grow internally. If you have the chance, take a ten day course; they are offered worldwide and based solely on donations. Their official website http://www.dhamma.org/ has a list of the sites and contact information (though the phone and email did not work for the site I went to, it still listed properly if the course was still open or not). May all find real peace and happiness; metta!

The daily schedule.

The meditation hall.

The gong and device to rip open the coconuts.

The ten day course group. The guy holding the bike was a helper volunteering during the course.

Keep Moving

Mysore: I arrived here to catch another bus to Kalicut and thought I would have enough time to see the Palace during the five hour stopover. It turned out that I only had enough to see it from the outside since I forgot to factor in the time it would open. So the early morning was spent at Chamundi Hills and a couple of quick snaps of the Palace from the outside.

The view from Chamundi Hills.

The Chamundeshwari Temple on top of the hills.

The offering baskets waiting for a buyer.

Mysore Palace: my best pic.

Cleaning out the canon at the Palace.

Kalicut: I didn't find much special about this city but since a motorcycle stuntman showed me around, it was short of becoming another stopover. I also caught the Onam celebration, which is only present in the south of India. Each of the four days of the festival, the householders made a beautiful design out of flowers drawn outside of their door. For shops and malls, artists got to show off their talent and that design was kept for the duration of the festival.

The Pookalam at the mall.

With my guide, Binoy, the motorcycle stuntman and engineer.

A free Onam show sponsored by the government. I caught the first dance and I have to say it was top rate! The colors they wore, were not only beautiful and bright, but also reflected the god, Vishnu, they were celebrating.

An Pookalam outside a hotel.

Pickled anything: the Kalicut refreshing snack.

Kochi: If you asked me what I remembered from here, it would be the dreary weather and artsy surroundings. Oh, and I got evidence of what my friend's told me goes around in an Indian man's mind.

Locals flying kites along the Fort Kochi beach.

In a cafe that was also home to artists.

One of the many works of art along the streets.

An old snake boat in an antique gallery.

Suffice to say that this did not improve my opinion of India men. Not to generalize as there are good and bad and everywhere we go, we will meet both. If you go to Fort Kochi though, I would advise you to stay away from all of the lodging offered near the bus and train station (Ernakulam) for several reasons. They were either really filthy even for budget standards, occupied by creepy men (the fellow above worked the reception at the hotel I stayed), were too expensive for the budget traveler, or did not offer lodging to foreigners (did not have the paperwork they needed to hand in to their government).