1/20: Last day in Anjuna

Me with Tina, Hila, Eugen, Jakob, and Sarah at dinner

Yesterday, my last full day in Arjuna, I read the last chapter of Adyashanti's Emptiness Dancing, called "Fidelity." He writes about fidelity to Truth - a commitment each moment to the moment, to trust completely, to surrender completely, for all our attempts at control are just attachment to an illusion. And then his words played out perfectly in my last full day in Arjuna.

Everyone was supposed to converge on Anjuna yesterday. Eugen, my German friend who has been living in India for the past five years and I had met two and a half years ago when I was traveling in India, was supposed to arrive. Hila, the Israeli woman I first met at a cooking class in Pushkar, and then ran into her on the street in South Rajasthan and then again in Panaji, was finishing up her week long yoga and meditation course and was coming. Tina and Jakob, who I met outside the airport and became my restaurant buddies, were supposed to arrive.

And then communication fell apart. Eugen wasn't answering his cell phone. Hila did not email confirming that she was coming, and Tina and Eugene came to my guest house and I missed them by about five minutes.

I went walking down the beach, looking for Tina and Jakob. There I ran into Amy, the New Zealand woman I had met on the bus to Anjuna a few days ago. She was reclining on a lounge chair on the beach, which seemed like a pretty good idea to me. While lounging, Sarah, the German/French woman who I met outside our guest house the evening before, walked by and joined us. As we were about to leave to visit the Wednesday craft market, Hila walked by along the beach. So she and I went to get something to eat, and while sitting at a restaurant on the cliff over looking the sea, Tina and Jakob wandered through the restaurant. They joined us at our table, and while texting Eugen, who should walk into the restaurant but Eugen. So Eugen, Tina, Jakob, Hila and I went to dinner at another restaurant. Sarah walked by and joined us, and then a little later, in walked Amy.

Since this was my last day in Anjuna, I really wanted to see all these friends one last time, but had no idea how it would work, or if it would even be possible. And then all my attempts at control failed. And then it all worked out anyway - all seven of us ended up eating dinner together and having a great evening. The evening was a perfect metaphor for what I had been reading, thinking and writing about - control, desire, and just letting go.

Eugen and I

Hila, Eugen and I

Jakob, Tina and I

Sarah, Amy, Hila and I

All 7 of us: Jakob, Tina, Hila, Amy, Robert, Eugen, and Sarah

1/20: Two meals, Two friends, and a morning thought

Dinner with two new friends: Sarah from Germany who now lives in France, and Amy from New Zealand

Breakfast view: coffee, coast line and fisherman

Wanting is wanting- there is no getting around it.
Wanting inspiration is wanting.
Wanting to not want is wanting.
Wanting to just be is wanting.
Wanting to accept what is, to live in the moment is wanting.
Wanting to live with an open heart is still wanting.

2/19: Morning walk on Anjuna coast line and "resting in the simple ground of being"

sun bathers

fisherman

Adyashanti's Emptiness Dancing, Chapter 22: "Eternal Now"

"Meet here where you find yourself,
by not finding yourself.
In this place where quietness is deafening,
And stillness moves too fast to catch it."
excerpt from poem by Adyashanti (p. 160)

"Have you ever noticed that you have never left here, except in your mind." (p. 161)

If you are still interested in time and the spiritual accumulations you can have in time, you will get a time-bound experience. The mind is acting as if what you are looking for isn't already present right now. Now is outside of time." (p. 161)

"The mind always thinks of freedom, or enlightenment, as some sort of accumulation, and of course there is nothing to accumulate. It's about realizing what you are, what you have always been. This realization is outside of time because it's now or never." (p. 161 - page 161 was a really good page)

"It is a place where even oneness makes no sense, where the mind of insight has fallen silent, where the heart has fallen silent, and there is just a resting in the simple ground of being." (p. 165)

1/18: Up the Coast to Arjuna

Tina and Jakob from Germany - my restaurant buddies in Panaji. I met them on the bus from the airport, and then we all ended up at my favorite restaurant (from the time I was in Panaji two and a half years ago). They also love South Indian food, especially Uttapam. So we ended up meeting at the restaurant many times over the three days (Tina's goal is to make her way through the entire menu) and became friends.

Anjuna coast line, about 50 feet from my guest house room

Anjuna coast line, looking north

When I was here last time, it was during monsoons, so really the only people here were me and the craft sales ladies. I ended up making friends with two of them, and Saku was one of the first people I saw when I arrived today.

1/18: Panaji Sunrise and a really large dosa

Panaji is located where the Mandovi river meets the ocean. This is the sunrise on the river.

Boats on the river

Panaji from the bridge

Nice reflection

My friend Hila with my paper masala dosa for breakfast. I met her first at the cooking lesson in Pushkar, in Northern Rajasthan. Then we ran into each other on the streets of Udaipur in southern Rajasthan, and then again on the street in Panaji.

1/17: Panaji, Goa

I am no longer at the guest house with the nice balcony view. It turned out the room sucked big time - bed bugs! So itchy! So now I am in a cleaner, more expensive place, and worth every rupee.

View from my balcony in my bug-free guest house

Panaji's board walk

Panaji beach - Indians don't swim. They sit in the surf, often fully clothed

A lot of birds

Fishermen

Not much else to say - eating really delicious idlis, dosas, and uttapams. I'll probably head to the northern coast tomorrow or the next day.

1/15: Kite Festival in Ahmedabad and Panaji, Goa

Last night I walked to the bridge over the river (because I really like walking on bridges). It turned out to be "the place to be" to watch the fireworks. An Indian man asked me if we have Kite Day in America. He asked about the other American festivals. I really couldn't think of that many. "In India we have a festival every two weeks." That sounds good to me.

This morning the streets were covered with pink kite strings. From the telephone and electrical wires dangled an assortment of kites. Women were squatting, scrubbing the sidewalks, trying to wash the pink dye used to dye the kite strings (I don't know why pink is so popular) from in front of their shops. At 7:30AM already the kite fliers were out. Three kids tried to get their kites in the air, surrounding a man who is flying his kite. He looked at me and smiled.

kites dangling from telephone and electrical wires

Even at the shanty town next to the river, boys are standing on the corrugated roofs, flying their kites.

This shanty town must not have as strong roofs, for the kite fliers are all standing on the ground.

It has been a nice last day in Gujarat. Now I fly south to Goa.

Two views from my balcony in Panaji, North Goa

11/13: Shetrunjay Tirth Jain Temples in Palitana

I slept very poorly, and finally just got up at 4:30AM and walked to the all-night diner across the way. The rickshaw drivers were surrounding a fire outside the restaurant. I had rice and dahl, and at 5:30AM, headed for the mountain. I started climbing the 3750 steps in total darkness, amongst what appeared to me to be ghosts - Jain pilgrims dressed completely in white. Most of them were barefoot (I decided I needed my arch-supports). It was a beautiful starry night and a new moon. As the sun appeared from behind the clouds, many people stopped and prayed.

The main temple complex covers 20 acres, with 108 large temples and 872 smaller ones. 400,000 pilgrims visit the temples annually. They were built over 900 years, though many of the temples were destroyed by Muslim invaders in the 14th and 15th centuries. The current temples date back from the 16th century.

There was one man who walked up the steps completely naked. Many people bowed to him as he walked by (It reminded me of anxiety dreams I would sometimes have before the start of a new school year.)

The Jain pilgrims were silent as they walked up. The only sound was the clanging of the walking sticks on the stairs, and, every once in a while, the ringing of a bell.

Jain Temples Continued

11/13 and 11/14: Last photos of Palitana and Kite Festival in Ahmedabad

Throughout the walk I would hear men shouting "doli, doli." It turns out they are offering to carry you up or down the stairs. A seat is attached to one or two bamboo poles, and two or four men (I guess depending on how heavy you are) carry you. On the walk down I decided to count - I passed 114 people being carried. Not one of them was a Westerner (I did count 11 non-Indians as I walked down) and not one of them was a Jain pilgrim dressed in white. Mostly they were overweight Indian tourists.

I am now in Ahmedabad, waiting for my flight tomorrow. From every roof there are people flying kites during this national kite festival.

1/11 & 1/12: Last day in Diu and First in Palitana

I forgot to tell the story of my experience at the little temple in Maykal's village. I was shown around by this jovial, old man, who turned out to be the village guru. It was a very simple temple. He took me to shrine after shrine, opened the gate, and beckoned me in. In order to honor his modest temple, I took a picture at each shrine. I guess I got a little bit carried away, for at the end of the tour, he took me around the back and pointed to the cat, as if to ask, "Are you going to take a picture of it?" I knew he was a happy monk, but I didn't know he was funny too.

Sunrise (for a change) and birds on my last day in Diu

I missed my morning bus by 4 minutes (the trains may not run on time, but the buses have always been to the minute), so I found Maykal and Ashoka and took them for omelets and chai. The omelet man gave me a hug as I left. Maykal and Ashoka walked me to the bus station to see me off (I didn't know when I was leaving, so it turned out Maykal got up at 4AM and headed for the bus station to make sure he didn't miss me).

As I rode away from Diu, and drifted off into the scenery, I realized that something has happened to me. It crept upon me imperceptibly over time, but I can no longer imagine what it feels like to not feel the connection to all that's around me.
Palitana (in the foreground is a motorcycle pick-up truck)

Palitana is a dirty, dusty, stinky, noisy, congested little town. I am back in India proper, and I like it. There are too many people on the small roads. The cars, rickshaws and motor bikes drive too closely to the pedestrians. They honk their horns too much, which are too loud. There is shit everywhere. I am back to being a novelty - possibly the only non-Indian in this town. I can not tell you how many times I heard "What is your name?" as I walked through town. But that is about it for their English. Only, they are so good natured about it. Smiles and smiles. I feel connected in an odd sort of way. Diu was a vacation. It is nice to be "home" again.

A lot of sugar cane

Dying string everywhere for the upcoming Kite Festival