12.10.2008

Bombay Attacks

I wrote this the 2nd day of the Bombay terrorist attack. I had to re-evaluate what the world looked like so I had to write from the personal perspective. P. Sainath told us to explore the multiple realities and this is only one reality of one part of the world:

I am swirling with emotions as I’m trying to take in what is happening in Mumbai. I say "happening" because terror acts like these don’t end, they leave wounds that take lifetimes to heal.

When I heard that CafĂ© Leopold was targeted my first thought was of Thompson. My last day in Mumbai I spent at Leopold’s by myself watching locals and tourists bargain and pass through Colaba Causeway. With such a genuine smile, I remember the last thing he said to me, “I will remember you every time you come back because I know you will.” I laughed because I think he saw in my eyes that I was already plotting for the next time I would be back. Thompson would shamelessly flirt, but I would try to brush it off as good service. In his black slacks, white buttoned down long sleeved, always a gold tie, and always a soft smile, it's hard to not want befriend him. I am praying for his safety because he is there six nights a week and I am praying that night of the attack was the night he had off.

Then I thought of the waiters in the red polo uniforms, and the black marble floors and the blue checkered table cloths, and the bouncer at the bar and his head nod and excited smile, and the smoky bar and the “towers”, and the foreigners who were hoping to feel the Bombay buzz and probably have read Shantaram, and Razu who always waited for us every night outside and let us smoke in his cab while he had the blue interior lights and played "I love my India" for Katherine and I in the empty streets. Katherine and I were always laughing, most especially at Leopold's. Something that India brought me was Katherine and insane amounts of laughter with her and years to come I'm sure.

I remember the Metro Adlab Theater because it reminded me of an opera theater. The first day in Mumbai I watched a movie on my own there: Mission Istanbul. I watched a total of 3 movies in that theater while I was there. It was two blocks away from our hotel. I remember one of the girls on the trip being so worried about some raised voices she said, "I don't want to be bombed, I'm serious." and I was the one who reassured her that everything would be ok.

I'll never forget the Oberoi Hotel mostly because I had a feminine moment while we were shopping with Sonora and her mom. I remember wearing my long hot pink, bohemian skirt and twirling on the marble floor in the air conditioned hall ways.

It's painful every time I refresh the page to see updates and pictures of the attacks. For a city that has enraptured me and taught me so much it breaks my heart to see that it is being terrorized.

The Taj Mahal Palace, a hotel built because an Indian man was refused entry from the most premier hotels at the time, is burning as I type this and I can think of is the day I walked along the water to marvel at a building so exquisite and how the foreigners who stay there are trapped inside a building that was meant to be a safe place for them. With the Gateway of India right across, I couldn't imagine a more perfect place to have it. Under the circumstance that the Taj was built and what the Gateway represent, they are the epitome of the thriving nation India has become and continue to be.

While Mumbai is being attacked and has been startled there is a spirit that lives under the skin of all Mumbaikers and that spirit cannot be properly explained through words. What lives within them can only be felt through the musky scent of their air, their smile and forehead wrinkles, the sweat from their brows, the vibrant colors of the women's saris, the silence in their midnights streets and the neverending honking from the bumblebee taxis and so much more. It is in their mortality that they continue to thrive and they will pick themselves up from these acts of terror.

I ask for your prayers for this and all acts of terror to end. Let peace prevail.

10.17.2008

Monologue Report

I haven't quite settled my feelings on this, but I think it is quite lovely.

Before Sunrise, Julie Deply as Celine

I believe if there's any kind of God it wouldn't be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.

8.23.2008

So, this is it. I'm about to head out for one of my last adventure in India, for now at least. A couple of nights ago Sonora, our professor, said to all of us, "You don't know it yet, but you'll be back here." Sonora, I'm going to take your word for it. I will be back. You don't even know.

I spent my last day walking along the water of the Gateway of India, strolled down Colaba, walked more along Marine Drive, and had cheese na'an.

As people with huge balloons that look like bats came up to me trying to convince me to buy some I couldn't help but think that I'm going to miss how it would rouse me up enough to get my point across, that I didn't want one. Or how I probably did get cheated buying last minute gifts for friends. Or I'm going to miss the crazy taxi rides that now only occasionally keeps me at the edge of my seat. Or I'm going to miss the glaze of sweat that magically appears as soon as I step outside. Or I'm going to miss the buzz of the city and the kind eyes matched with tired faces, faces that are etched with lines of sad stories but livened spirits.

In so many possible ways, my health has been endangered by reckless or naive adventures but I wouldn't trade those adventures for the world. I'm sure there is more to come in my life and I'm excited for each and every one of them.

Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts
Love wasn't invented in India, but it was perfected here.

8.22.2008

Challo!

Let's go! in Hindi.

We're back in Bombay and it's so very bittersweet. The group leaves tonight and I'm here for one more night.
Last night we spent our last night together. I finished a bottle of wine to myself sang songs, spent one last night at Leopold's, almost had a heart attack because Katherine was trying to convince our cab driver to take us to the Red Light district and, well... more places. In the end we sat at the steps of our hotel and laughed our big hearts out and agreed that we're best friends in a way we wouldn't have thought we would be.

I'm contemplating what to do tonight as my last night in Bombay. One last night in Colaba? Sitting by the water at the Gateway of India? Dinner at Liberty? The city is my own tonight and I'm overwhelmed at all the possibilities that this city has for me.

8.18.2008

Agra!

We left Bombay yesterday, took a flight to Delhi, took a train this morning to Agra and now I'm here.

Delhi is the capital of India and does have the feel of everything that is capital. It has the historical tourist sights meant for awe with the people beaming of boringness. But the saris are much more beautiful here and the greenery and spaciousness has caught me by surprise. It's nice having fresh air and gaining new perspective after being in Bombay.

We're going to do more touristy things today and then Taj Mahal at night. One of the Seven Wonders of the world I'm excited to see it in all of it's grandness. Amongst the crazy adventures I've had in my first visit to India thus far, I'm glad that this will be one of them.

I miss Bombay so much already. I woke up this morning after being away for one day and I woke up with a tinge of sadness. It's a city so worn down by its own system yet so beautiful from its own people. I'll be back there for a couple of days after this but I'm dreading the departure. I always convince myself that I can live in a place I've visited but Bombay would tear me apart which is why I think I love it so much. You're forced, by your own will, to love or be crushed by it. It truly is a bipolar city and the irony gives it its own vibrant essence. The air can't be as thick anywhere else and the people can't love and hate you at the same time as much as Bombay (as far as I know at least).

There's a lot I'm learning from the city about myself and my place in the world. While every moment is a life changing experience, this is one that has shaked up my life as I know it. Funny that I'm bringing in Fran Fine from The Nanny, but she said, "I'm like an etch-a-sketch right after you've shaken it!" and that's sort of how I feel.

8.12.2008

You don't even know.

This city is wearing me out but I'm loving every moment of it.

I've embraced the fact that I'm in a different country where I have created different codes of conduct. I will play by those codes and be the fearless and sweet person I've dreamed of becoming. It may only last for the next two weeks or so but I will milk it for what it's worth.

India has shown me a world of chance and mishaps. & it's so very, very bittersweet.

8.04.2008

Day 4

I have a hard time trying to understand where I'm at sometimes. A lot of what we're doing seems like a blur into long days and long nights but not boring one bit. I've been here close to almost two weeks, I think, and I find myself laughing at the thought of still being here.

Today was the first time we've interacted with other students here. We sat in a class with P. Sainath, a very accomplished journalist who won an award of something equivalent to the Noble Prize in Asia. He was phenomenal. There is always something to respect of a man of humor and genuine intellect.
Then we went to Xavier's College where we were able to have a discussion about globalization and the effects it has on media. We told the students here that print media is dying in the U.S. and I swear I feel like we killed their dreams. America is still held up with high standards and glamour in different parts of the world.

Last night we went to see an MTv promo shooting for a reality show called Splits Villa. I'm not quite sure what it is about, I hear it is like 2 men and 20 women who live in a house and they try to win over the men. The models said it was just like American reality television: just as over dramatic. Here's the theme song to the show:



I miss the 206 air & my family more, even though I'm actually closer to them.

8.02.2008

& the Class arrives..

Well the class arrived & we've been doing a lot of tourist-y things.. getting people oriented with the craze of the city. It's been nice having people to share my sense of vastness of Bombay.

While it's like we've been thrown around here, it's been quite an adventure.

Yesterday we went to Colaba Causeway, a street market, and ventured off in groups. Found some good deals and not so good deals. We found a place that looks like it's going to be a good hang out spot for some drinks and food. Last night we went to Not Just Jazz by the Bay, an American Jazz club... and well, it's pretty snazzy but I found it weird to be in a semi-chic club in this country. It's weird most especially because as soon as you step out there are 3 year-olds holding babies begging you for money.

We're about to venture off.

7.30.2008

on Spiritual Journey

Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald
I picked up this book because I thought it was going to be a about a woman's hardships in backpacking through India. It really ended up being a travel log on her spiritual journey throughout India. It was not what I was expecting but I think it's what I needed.

It is an easy to read, crash course on the different religions in India (& the world). From Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Jainism, Muslim, Christianity, and more. This mediocre, sometimes funny, personal account, is a "guide book" that I can use as a good stepping stone as I continue to ground myself in my own faith.

I try to convince myself that I am comfortable with my relationship with God. Not just within the past couple of days but in other testing moments, I find myself in doubt and breaking my own faith. I am currently being stripped of my faith in God, my faith in myself, my faith in people, and the whole idea of faith itself.
I feel like I'm on the tipping point of my own spiritual journey and I need to start over and draw a map of where I want to be at the very end.. well, at least the general direction.

7.28.2008

Where do I even start?

Alright, so much has happened the past couple of days I really don't know where to begin. This will be really lengthy, but I'm going to break it up the best way I know how. So read as you see fit.

P.S. My laptop died, it's matay. I'm on the hotel computer. Maybe it's going to laptop heaven now that it's died in India.. shrug. This also means posting pictures may take a while.

-Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
-Mahanagari Express!! (Train ride)
-Varanasi: The Holy Hindu City

Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
As I was on the train from Bombay to Varanasi on the 25th there was a series of bombing in Bangalore. The next day, while still on the train, there was another bombing in Ahmadabad. The bombings claimed 45 lives and injured hundreds. These are cities far from where I'm at. An Indian group claims responsibility but there are fingers pointing to Pakistan and Islamic groups. Attacks such as these are not new to India and have been aimed mostly at religious institutions. The country is apparently in a state of panic but the streets of Bombay bustle just the same as I have left. I suppose it takes much more than death to shake up this city, I have no interest in finding out what will. They've buffed up security at all airports & train stations but they are facing a shortage of officers. I have been disconnected from any form of news the past couple of days so a lot of this is still registering.

Mahanagri Exress #1093/4: The Train Ride
"MAA-HA-nah-GAH-ree (roll the R) Express!!!" I have that stuck in my head. I caught the train to Varanasi at 12:10am. I had a yelling fit with another bureaucrat (I seem to have that quite often here). He said that my ticket wasn't valid despite having my confirmation number and all. Long story short, I had to get another ticket. I was determined to get to Varanasi!
My new ticket only allowed me into General Seating. Meaning, no sleeping berths, just wooden benches. An elderly man pleaded with me to go to the Women's Compartment.
For a total of 31 uncomfortable hours, I spent 12 of them sleeping on a wooden chair and the other 19 on a wooden plank 7ft off the ground that was meant to serve as a shelf for luggage. It's all good cause mothers trust me enough to play with their children as the mothers sleep. I became the unofficial au pair of the compartment.
I vowed not to use the bathroom for the supposed 28 hours (really 31) as these trains are not luxury trains as you can imagine. But when you have to go, you have to go. I was cracking up in the bathroom and as I was hysterically laughing I was thinking, "What are you doing venturing off alone in a country where you don't understand the language and they regard you as crazy!? You're in a train for 28 hours, sleeping on a wooden plank & you're popping a squat in a train with a smell that is probably chemically burning your clothes!!! REALLY NOW!?" I had to pull myself together because as I was walking out women were pulling their young ones close to them. I think the door was thinner than my apartment walls (I didn't think it was possible).
Coming back the train ride was less eventful. But the train station was not! The Varanasi Foreign Tourist Center (a little redundant if you ask me) was extremely helpful. I ended up staying over night because of some mix up. A lot of travelers were of European descent. No overseas husband just yet. hah!
Hours later, I am trying to call the fambam. I have to fight my way to keep my spot in line but when I finally get to the phone it won't work. The phone attendant chooses to ignore me and as I'm yelling for attention the phone is snagged out of my hand! The guy next to me says in an Indian accent, "Fight for it, otherwise you won't get anything." As I turn, I'm in awe. In front of me is a brown skinned, brown eyed Toby (from Hidmo). I am speechless. Toby, being one of the most dreamiest guys I know, has an Indian twin! Who also happens to be my phone-knight-in-shinning-armour. He grabs the phone back, picks up my pad to dial the number I need. Then walks away coolly. I convince myself that he is going to the Hidmo of India.

Varanasi: "Older than history, older than tradition, older than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together" Mark Twain on Varanasi
I really have to give you an abridged version of my time spent there. I'm still processing the oldest and one of the holiest cities in the world. I spent 2 days at the great Hindu city. My tour guide, Anil, explains to me that Varanasi is most famous for five things:
1. The Holy River: The Ganges River. It is common to see people bathe themselves in the river as it is known to absolve all their sins. Dead babies are floating along the river as it guarantees them a ticket to heaven. No doubt my boat ride at dawn has proven so.. the dead babies at least, I can only hope they're in heaven.
2. The Burning Ghats: There are two well known burning ghats, the most popular and biggest one of them is the Manikarnika Ghat. They publicly cremate bodies. I cannot begin to explain how something so frightening can be so sacred. There are 365 ghats along the Ganges River. I remember because I like to believe they built a ghat every day of the year.
3. The Temples: Anil said there are 99.1 temples in Varanasi. I don't know if this is true or how he got .1 but he also said that every home is a temple. I especially liked the Durga Temple (dedicated to the Hindo God, Shiva's wife who has 9 heads).
4. The small streets: I hated this. It was a maze of alley ways that made it impossible for me to remember where my hostel was. It scared me too. I never left the hostel without Anil.
5. Moghul Town: Silk: Varanasi is a huge silk exporter. They make and sell silk wholesale. I got to see a Muslim town where they hand made silk from old school looms. It was beautiful.
From there, I wanted to move on to Gaya to see the Bodhi Tree (a sapling of the tree where Buddha gained enlightenment) but I was strongly advised not to go because of the bombings. The little Buddhist in me cried. But it was all good because there was a yearning to learn more about Hinduism. It was funny because right as I was leaving Varanasi I was also just finishing Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald. I'll reflect on the book in another entry but this was the passage that I thought was fate that I should read right as I was leaving:
Of all the wild, mad, hair-raising stops in my spiritual journey through the subcontinent, the most holy Hindu city of them all has branded itself on me most boldly: Varanasi on the Ganges. Downstream from Kumbh Mela and upstream from hell, it's a city that attracts the faithful and the freaks and those dying or being bid farewell. Souls sent from this place on earth go straight to heaven. A few weeks ago, on a hotel roof above India's holiest city, Jonathan and I inhaled clods of hash spiced with wafts of singed hair and burning bodies. We walked among Varanasi's rats, dogs and street urchins as they competed for garbage in a maze of twisting dark alleyways and stained palaces that rot into the black mud. At dawn we floated in a wooden boat past candles, flowers and human ashes in holy waters littered with bobbing bloated bodies.
I knew I was at the right place and apparently Sarah Macdonald is telling me the same thing through spiritual wavelengths.