Dear Journal

Seriously the last time I kept a regular journal, I was probably fifteen and only used it to keep track of the boys I liked vs. the boys who may have liked me back.  I was a very deep thinker back in those days.

Well in almost eight weeks I'm heading back to India with my sister and I thought I'd read through the little travel journal I kept during my first six week visit.  I've been reminiscing about my experience and quite frankly, I've been getting anxious as hell.  Yes, hell.  It's that serious.  All the people staring, all the awkward customs, the not knowing what's going on, the over stimulation and noises/cars/people/clothes/strangers/language barrier/pressure.  I know it will all work out tho, and reading my journal reminded me that half the reason I'm so caught up in all these feelings is because I'm an uptight important American and I need to let go and relax and realize it's a big wide world with problems bigger than my own insecurities and phobias.  My entries start out with a tone very similar to how I'm feeling now, and then end six weeks later all calm and enlightened.

I've also been a twisty ball of frustration/love/impatience/support/misunderstanding when it comes to my sister moving back to India with my nephew and reading back to see my initial thoughts at the beginning of their whole adventure puts some of my feelings in perspective and also gives me a smile when thinking about how much our lives have changed / how much we've personally evolved since then.


I thought that leading up to my trip I would share some of my entries and use el blogo here as my present day journal because that's pretty much what it is, right?  a very public, published on the internet, personal journal.

Here we go! (I apologize for the random stream of consciousness writing style.  India is an impossible place to focus.)

May 2, 2008.

Here we are.  Sitting on the train.  It has stopped for quite a while and we have no idea why [there was a group of farmers on the train tracks who were protesting the government's lack of support to the rural lower class].  Jill asked someone in Hindi but didn't understand the answer.

I just noticed that my camera battery is still plugged into the charger at home.  It was a sinking "oh fuck" moment.  I want to document everything.  

You're not supposed to use the bathroom while the train is not moving b/c your stuff just falls out onto the tracks, but she couldn't wait.  

Def not going to make it on time to Haridwar. I cross my fingers they have a battery there.

It is so surreal that I am actually here.  It seemed too easy (although I was not thinking that during the flight).  The smells and sights are just...beyond different.  I imagined, but man, just so different.  Everything just looks so old and brokedown.  I can't imagine if the buildings were ever new.  They look like they were built to be brokedown.  I can't imagine anyone having the organization and forethought to build a nice place and maintain it.  Instead it's layers upon layers of shantis and brick homes.

May 3, 2008

I woke up early and saw the sun when it began to get lighter.  The birds and the cricket bugs buzz is intense before day break.  Then, the people in the Puri Ashram wake up and begin their daily devotional.  Horns, bells, chants and prayers.  Every am/pm.  they take it very seriously.  I laid in bed listening with my eyes closed for a very long time.  Then watched Jill do her yoga and then we walked through the forest of fruit trees to the river Ganga.  

It is very popular to bathe there for spiritual men and entire families.  They come release their cows to graze and then pray and swim.  People have set up tents made up of old plastic and packaging paper and one man even just curled up on his blanket next to the shore.  The river is full of big smooth river rocks and is a greyish green color that leaves a sheer grey dust on your skin, but you don't notice.  People make pilgrimages and vacation at the river and bring prayers and offerings.  The ashram dogs came with us and I think they are the luckiest dogs in India.  Most are starving yet they have free reign and are fed well.  

Then we came back, had tea and went for a walk in Haridwar.  First impression off the train I thought it was the most miserable and scary place I had ever been.  Hoards and hoards of people, all who just gawk at me.  They sit on the ground, covered by flies, right next to cow dung and tons of litter.  (It almost seems like litter is encouraged here, it is SO dirty.  Nothing is biodegradable and everything sold comes in plastic packaging).  We walked around (on the left side of the road) and saw one of the biggest communal ashrams in the area.  It is like a village with its own shops, bakery, medical center, etc. (garden too).  Tons of people flock there because a famous swami founded it. 

Today I wore my linen pants and t-shirt but still feel awkward.  Like I stand out or am too revealing. I've seen a few Indian girls wearing the same though.  Indian dress is encouraged but I feel like a fake wearing it.  I know I "fit in better" but really I don't because I'm obviously not Indian. 

The stares are dense and heavy. Even if Jill stops to ask one person a ? or barter, men mill around to stare or listen.  She says they are very curious and gossipy people.  I just look ahead.  Some try to follow or bug, but I put on my francis face [bitchy expression] and walk with Jill.  It is the weirdest feeling.  When she is hiring a rickshaw (had my first ride today) or paying for a service she has to have a commanding presence complete with tone and body language.  To me it seems they will drive off or get mad, but it always works out.  I don't ask what was said.  She speaks good Hindi and I have no idea what is going on most of the time.  I'm very quiet and nod.  

I try to smile so I don't look so hostile but sometimes I feel so awkward I want to disappear.  I'm completely out of my element here.  I get so nervous and uncomfortable.  I don't know how to talk to people here, even if they know english.  I just look down. 

Last night I had to attend the Puri Ashram's nighttime devotional...oh my god, I felt like...I was abducted by aliens.  You sit cross legged and chant and ring bells and drum.  Very intense.  Other ashrams do it all day long.  Then we stand up and bend down and stand up and go to the shrine of the yogi who built this ashram and each pay respects with carnations and marigolds.  Then each person takes the offering for the day (bananas and leechees -- a hard shelled fruit you peel that looks like a jellyfish brain and is really sweet and juicy) then everyone retires.  Some sleep on the rooftop or courtyard.  The boys were chasing a monkey out the tree and bats out of the leechee tree.
  

We laid out on the roof, finally cool and watched the clouds clear and stars come out.  We talk about home and India.  I am mostly quiet.  I think Jill thinks I'm just taking it all in, but really I was just in utter shock.  Still am...I have never seen so many people, the majority of whom are men.  You'd guess by looking that the country is 99% male, but Jill says the women are at home and very shy and uneducated.  I can't imagine that all these men are fully educated but I suppose she is referring to the middle and upper class. I see now why it seems impossible to organize a 3rd world country.  They are poor, uneducated, spread out, rural, and in mass.  It is SO overwhelming to see the poverty.  Those living in or around it don't seem to notice and the lady here who owns the ashram says India is real, but is difficult because there is such a disparity between the rich and poor.  

She is a German immigrant who came to India 40 years ago and became a sadhu to live in the forest along the river.  30 years ago her and her sadhu partner inherited this ashram and had three kids.  It is beautiful and peaceful here yet because I feel so out of place I can't wait to leave.  I'm trying to be open and try all new things with Jill's lead but it is hard not to judge myself and others or worry about that others think.  
 

I have had to learn to eat with my hands which makes me very self conscious.  I feel like there is etiquette that I am not aware of and I can't wait for the group meals to be over.  Everyone sits in lines on the floor and is served by the ashram servants / staff (young boys) then you use your right hand to just grub down.  There is nothing eloquent about it and it is very messy.  They don't eat meat and almost everything comes from their garden or locally.  It is actually very tasty and usually consists of white rice, cooked jicama or blended / seasoned veggies, a bean or lentil soup, and a fresh pickled tomato, cucumber, squash salad.  Also comes with buttermilk which I am not fond of.  It tastes like sour milk and sometimes has curds.  I tried plain milk from a cow, good, tiny bit sweet but very creamy. Be better if served really cold. Breakfast is tea which is sweet and peppery and is served hotter than I thought hot could be with a piece of toasted bread crust with cinnamon and sugar.  Tasted like Life cereal...

...It is so hot you sweat and sweat but it's cool during the night.  My armpits smelled like Jill's this morning and I finally understand why she smells the way she does.  She is sweating out Indian food, or maybe India itself.  I want to just lay around in my underwear but even in private we wear our pants to protect our legs from the mosquitos.  They were swarming in our room this am before the sun came up.  The flies too, they come by the millions and irritate the hell out of me.  But no one seems to care.  I don't know if it's the Hindu love for all things in nature or the fact that it won't solve the fly problem by swooshing them away.  They just land again and again.  On your food, your cup, your foot.  But if flies are the only bothersome bug and I don't have to see any spiders or whatever, FINE. 

...It rains here every day in the afternoon and cools everything off.  It's kinda like a roaring downpour, thunder included.  

It's weird for me here.  They don't make eye contact with lower people, don't hug or shake hands, don't say please or thank you, yet will go well out of their way to show you to places, drive you, feed you, etc.  Everyone says how Indians are so warm and sweet, but cross-culturally, it is hard for me to understand that in my terms of nice and sweet.  Everything is SO incredibly different.  It feels like nothing is the same.  Not the showers, not the english, the packaging, the organization, clothes, style, standard.  Everything is so old and outdated yet still operating.  I wonder how things don't fall apart by now.  ...  I think the power just turned off.  The fan stopped, that's India for you.

I'm charging my phone and will buy a camera battery soon.  Then I can call David and hear his voice and start braving up to take some pictures.  I feel like such a weirdo taking them with all these people around me, but I also don't want to forget anything.  I want pics of everything and although I've only been here 2 days, I feel like I've already missed a ton.  My mind is full of things I want to write about but it fills and fills before I have a chance to sit.  And even then, I can't write long or fast enough to get it all.  I wish I had a voice recorder in my head and then I would dictate all my thoughts beautifully.  ...

Fan back on again.


...I wonder about the foreigners who come here to study.  Why India of all places?  they look like they used to be really plain suburban girls and now they are on the road to spiritual enlightenment.  In my head I judge.  It's so bad.  But it's hard not to because they take themselves so seriously and live this monotonous following life so blindly.  Not that it doesn't take balls to live here and follow that path, but why surrender your entire self?  Why not maintain who you are while you study?  I think Jill has come full circle in this way.  She love the life and teachings of a yogi / spiritual person but is still bright, fun, happy, and unique.  Others are serious, quiet, and must be very lonely.  To me, it doesn't seem like the best way to 'enlightenment.'  Jill is also less tense and strict and is very open minded which actually surprised me.  I think we will be fine together.  Pleasantly surprised.  


PS burping and farting are openly accepted.