12/31 in Porbandar

I went on an excursion today to Sandipani, a beautiful temple outside of town. For some reason, before I enter a temple, I like to walk around it first. Maybe it is a type of delayed gratification - savoring the experience.

Temple at Sandipani

On the back side of Sandipani temple is a small museum honoring the mathematical and scientific discoveries of ancient India. Supposedly they discovered the Pythagorean theorem centuries before the Greeks, as well as Pi and certain algebraic formulas. Maybe this is something only a math teacher can appreciate, but when I see a large poster explaining how to derive the quadratic formula from the quadratic equation (Bhashkaracharya in the 12th century), or how the coefficients of multiplying the binomial (a + b) to the second, third, fourth powers . . . relates to what we know of as Pascal's Triangle, there is such joy in my heart.

Some people live like this

boys on the beach at sunset

I have been thinking about my sleepless ramblings a few days ago in Ahmedabad, and I think I better understand now what I felt then - it is about the paradox of time and experience. At each moment so many realities exist within us simultaneously - what our senses are experiencing, what our mind is reflecting on, our interpretations, memories, aspirations. It is the nature of time and experience that each and every moment is unique. This is the only common element from moment to moment - how unique, and thus, special each moment is. So I wonder why it is that only some moments stand out. Our senses are always sensing, so maybe it is when our heart is open do we appreciate the moment at hand. And obviously it is not our heart; that is only a metaphor for something else. Love, connection, being present to experience that which is right before us, be it beautiful or painful. A connection which draws us outside of our self, or reminds us that there is so much more, that each one of us is so much more.

Moon rise on the harbor at sunset

Fruit Market in Porbandar

I have added images to the following post, in case you want to see the photos: Ahmedabad, Dwarka, and Porbandar

The House Mahatma Gandhi was born in and Museum

Entrance to his family's home

Speech the day before he was killed

Last Remains

12/29: Porbandar

I caught the 6AM bus to Porbandar. I am the only non-Indian on this public bus. One man asked me where I was from: "Africa? America?" Which reminds me of a conversation I had with a retired Indian school teacher right before I left Udaipur. He asked me where the pin on my hat was from. I told him Vietnam. he spoke really good English, so I sat and talked with him for a while. Partway through our conversation I finally realized what his confusion was about - he thought I was Vietnamese. "Vietnam is German?" he asked. "No," I replied. "It is independent." "Independent," he repeated.

The bus will take three hours, and cost $1.25. Just when I thought the bus was fully packed, it stops, and 10 more people are squeezed on. The man standing over me with his armpit in my face - I do not begrudge him his body odor - this is a very poor country. The man sitting next to me chewing pan (a mixture of tobacco, lime, and other stuff) - I do not begrudge him his breath - this is a very poor country. I am not complaining; I have a seat. Actually, there is something about this discomfort that makes me happy.

It wasn't hard to find a room here, and no exorbitant prices. I decided to walk to the beach. Next to the beach is a large, vacant lot with the dual purpose of garbage dump and shanty town. There is no sand on the beach, just poky volcanic stone. Every where you look there are men squatting and shitting. As the day is beginning to heat up, the smell of shit is everywhere. All along the road which follows the coast line are cows, goats, dogs, and pigs - all shitting. The beaches are also used as dumping garbage, so that blends in with the shit smell.

I did finally find a couple of sandy beaches, and spaced out every 30 feet with their butts facing me are men shitting (I have never seen so much squatting and shitting).

And then I found the old harbor! And then I found the vegetable market! And then I visited the house Mahatma Gandhi was born in! Then I found another version of my new favorite dish (potatoes, peanuts and crunchy bits), but this time tomatoes, more sauces, and pomegranate seeds were added. I had two plates! Every evening is like a festival here in Gujarat. The street stands roll out, and there are so many people the cars can't drive on the roads (though they still do).

Naked boy (probably just finished shitting) with cows and Porbandar in the back ground

cows

garbage, animals, beach

harbor

12/27 and 12/28: Dwarka

12/27: We arrived 1.5 hours early, and I slept so well on this bus - all night long. It is high season here, and no westerners. As far as I can tell, I am the only non-Indian tourist in this town. I went to at least 10 hotels before I found one with a room available. The published rate of 250 rupees has been increased during this high season to 1500 rupees. I have no choice.

I am back in real India - no internet cafe, no signs in English, and very little English spoken. This will be a different type of travel - somewhat like my experience in Kerala in the summer of 2007 when I would go for days without seeing another Westerner.

12/28: I just passed two very large and ugly Indian transvestites, dressed in saris, jewels, and make up. Nothing much else to say. Really good night street food - masala dosas, and a snack made of spicy boiled potatoes, spicy peanuts, crunchy stuff on top, then cilantro, onions, and some sort of green sauce.

Every day there is a festival

Dwarkadish Temple in the background

Dwarka town from my walk south along the beach

Another view of Dwarka, from my walk east

Temple on the water

12/26: Ahmedabad and the Bus Ride from Hell

It's 12/29 and I am in Porbanda, but there was no internet access the last two locations, and this is the only one (I think) in Porbanda, so I will start from my bus ride leaving Udaipur (The bus ride from hell). Also, I can't down load photos from this computer, so they will have to come later.

12/26: A Half Day in my Life
3:30AM: What a disaster of a bus ride. They double booked my sleeper, so they gave me a chair. There was not much I could do since I have a connecting bus to Dwarka the next night. It was the last seat at the back of the bus, so it was really bouncy on these "not so fine" roads. And the window wouldn't shut, so it was really cold. The bus arrived at 3:30AM, instead of 5:30AM, so at least the pain and suffering is over, though I think I didn't get any sleep.

4:00AM: I took a rickshaw to the train station to leave my luggage, since I have another night bus tonight. A man came up to me and started talking Hindi. "I don't speak Hindi," I told him. He was totally perplexed. Either he thought I was Indian or he thought everyone speaks Hindi.

4:30AM reflection (or sleepless ramblings): Every day is just another day - ordinary in its common place and special in its uniqueness. Every day is an adventure, and since this is true at every moment, there is nothing special about this moment. We are living continuous newness - every moment of our lives.

5:00AM: I left the train station and went walking. There is hardly anyone on the streets, at least not anyone awake. There are more homeless than I care to count - sleeping at the train station, on the sidewalk, under the bridge, covered like mummies under rags, blankets, or big plastic bags. Old people, young workers, whole families sleeping together to keep warm. I see a toddler sitting up. I see a young girl staring out at me. Overhead there is a huge billboard advertising "Majestic Living" - with a picture of a plush, high-rise condo complex. These two worlds exist side by side everywhere. Maybe it is just more extreme here.

6:30AM: On the banks of the river the shanty town is waking up - corrugated metal walls, canvas and plastic tarp roofs held down by boulders, bricks, and old tires, the smell of plastic burning in the fires. What magic blessed me with the life I was born into?

8:00AM: I found an idli, sanbar and coconut chutney stand. Delicious! Then I found a chai stand. Next to where I sit a woman sweeps the garbage of the street into a pile, then burns it. I have to move due to the toxicity of burning plastic. She slides her foot out of her sandal and puts he foot in the fire to warm it. Then replaces the sandal and does the same with the other foot. Even though she is a street cleaner, she wears a colorful sari and has silver bracelets around her ankles. A man squats next to the fire, while another stands over me, watching me write. I go to get a second cup of chai. "Ek or" (one more), one of the few things I know to say in Hindi, besides counting and food on the menu. The two men go to the fire to warm their feet.

I'm reminded of a book I just read called White Tiger, about a man who rose from poverty to becoming an entrepreneur. He went to Delhi as a driver of a rich man. For weeks he was afraid to order chai, because he didn't know the proper way to drink it in Delhi. Some drank from the tea cups and others poured their chai into the saucer and drank from it. Finally he realized that everyone from Delhi was from somewhere else, so, unlike the village where he came from, there was no "proper way." Fortunately for me, as a foreigner, I am given the benefit of the doubt and do not have to worry about such things.

12:30PM: I had lunch at a street stand - vegetable pakoras, fried chilies, and samosas. When I finished, the man asked if I liked his food. When I gave him the "thumb's up" sign, he put his hand to his heart in gratitude.

Pictures from the Mahatma Gandhi Museum

Temple in Ahmedabad

12/25: Last Day in Udaipur

I spent my last day in Udaipur walking around the old market.

There is a big banner across the main road leading up to the palace, a advertisement which reads, "Horse Raiding and Safari in Country Side." The second line of the banner reads, "Jeep Sarafi and Traking Also."

12/25: Last Day in Udaipur Continued

View of the City Palace and ghat from across the river

12/24 in Udaipur

Jagdish Temple in the center of the old city of Udaipur

Closer details of Jagdish Temple

I went for a long walk in the countryside today. I only saw two other foreigners along the way (both asked me to take their picture). The roads were pretty quiet. As a motorcycle with three young men drove by, I heard:
"Hello, Sir."
"How are you, Sir?"
"Okay, Sir, bye."
I only had time to wave.

After walking for about two and a half hours, with still some way to go (and a little lost), I came across the second foreigner, who was sitting with a bunch of old, Indian women shucking chick peas (I had never seen them fresh before). She asked me to take her picture with her new friends. As I started aiming the camera, the old women made sure their shawls covered their head. I started to walk again, and on very tired legs (and still a little lost), when a man on a motor scooter drove by. He asked me who my friend was (of course, all foreigners know each other). "I don't know," I replied.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
I told him my location. "I am going there too. Get on," he commanded. After about 5 minutes we were back. I am thankful for small gifts.

Mother Teresa said, "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love." And we can appreciate those small things with great love as well.

Gabi and me, the Day before Christmas in India

I have decided to leave Udaipur. I booked a night bus tomorrow evening for Ahmedabad, arriving at 5AM on the 26th. Then a night bus on the 26th for Dwarka, on the west coast of Gujarat. So the morning of the 27th I will be on the beach!

12/23: Morning Haiku

Reflections on the lake at Sunrise

On the lake's surface
All the dogs are barking and
The birds are flying

The lake's reminder
Gently whispering, "Wake up.
Is it real, or not?"

12/22: Day 3 in Udaipur

On the streets of Udaipur, I ran into Hila (from Israel) from my cooking class in Pushkar. So we spent the day together.

First we went to the Royal Palace, the largest in Rajasthan - over 800 feet long and 100 feet high. It was built over more than a century (1600-1725), added to by successive Maharanas (I learned today that Maharana was the highest ruler, and Maharaja was a local ruler).

View of Udaipur from the palace

We spent about 4 hours at the palace, then took an auto rickshaw out of town to an arts and crafts fair. Here is a dancer from one of the minority people of Rajasthan.

Day 2 in Udaipur continued

I met a man on the street yesterday. After the normal conversation of Where are you from? and What is your name? he told me, "Udaipur is the second most romantic city in Asia."
"What is the first?" I asked.
"I don't know," he replied.

I heard a story about two Buddhist monk novices. One said, "My master can fly across the land and he can walk on water. What can your master do?" The other replied, "When my master eats, he eats. When my master walks, he walks."

I am reading a simple book by Thich Nhat Hanh. He writes about mindfulness - giving full attention to that which you are doing at the moment. "Instead of always multi-tasking, we must teach ourselves to uni-task." He goes on to explain, "Mindfulness is the energy of attention. . . . It is the miracle that allows us to become fully alive in each moment."

Our bodies can be our first doorway to our soul - learning mindfulness with each action - each step, each sound, each thought can be our teacher.

View from my guest house deck

Gabi, Ian, Josi and me. We all met in Pushkar, and then again in Udaipur. This was after our farewell meal, just before Ian and Josi (from Canada) headed for Jodhpur. Hopefully I will see them again in Indonesia in February.

12/21: Udaipur day 2

Udaipur is a beautiful city, supposedly "the most romantic city in all of India." It was founded in 1559 by Maharani Udai Singh II as she fled the Mughal Emperor Akbar. A lake and river divide the city east and west. I am staying on the east side, in the old city. Small roads wind there way up the hill to Jagdish Vishnu Temple. I decided to splurge a little and took a room in a guest house right on the lake. My window opens up to a beautiful view of the lake. Though I have no balcony, there is a large deck right above the lake. The room costs $6, instead of the usual $4 I have been paying. I haven't done much at all in the time I have been here. The view from my guest house is so nice I haven't had the urge to move at all. I will be here for a while, so I have time to see the city.

View at sunrise from my guesthouse deck

Lake side of Udaipur