For the first time ever I was bumped off of a flight and subsequently delayed in Stockholm an extra FOUR days until another flight became available.  Although this was a huge hassle and meant missing the Dalai Lama in San Francisco, it was valuable to have these extra days to prepare myself for re-entry.  Nevertheless, I must say I found it overwhelming to suddenly be so "connected"; i.e., upon arrival home I opened my inbox, checked my cell phone messages and opened snail mail practically simultaneously. 

Thank goodness I am blessed with wonderful friends and family in Sweden who took care of me so that I didn't have to sleep in the clean (but cold) streets of beautiful downtown Stockholm, the 'Venice' of the North.  Heartfelt thanks to my dear friends from UPEACE Abigail and Dominic (and twin 8 month old boys Tiegen and Maddox) who generously hosted me during this time.  Though it may appear as if I had to resort to rowing out of the country, the photo was taken on an excursion to the extraordinary archipelago in Stockholm with my new friend "auntie" Heidi, Dom's sister.

I was astounded that my trying travels throughout India and Thailand went relatively smoothly for nearly four months and yet I encountered a problem in efficient, 'perfect' Sweden (which really is only to be blamed on Lufthansa, a German Airline)!  As a dual citizen with Sweden I have always felt the land was my second home, always welcoming me back with pristine natural beauty, gifts from grandma and savory sweets!  I love Sweden!

I have no idea why, I don't even know all the words to the song, but for some reason as I was flying over San Francisco on my way home and pointing out the Golden Gate bridge to the French woman sitting next to me, "God Bess America...land that I love" crept into my head followed by an intense pang of love for the US.  This is strange because I have never considered myself to be necessarily patriotic and I have never really liked that song; why should God only bless America?, I would think.  But apparently I love the place, problems and all, and intend to call it home, at least for the time being.  And as far as patriotism goes, I gladly bow my head and place my hand over my heart with deep gratitude for all of the many privileges and blessings that have been bestowed on me due to my family, country, and freedoms.  So I proudly sing off-key, "God Bless America, land that I love!" 

It's good to be home!
God bless us, each and every one of us.

The Thai New Year, "Song kran," is cheerfully celebrated by throwing buckets of water on innocent passersby, be they tuk-tuk drivers, motorcyclists, tourists, or other good-natured Thai celebrators.  The entire country gets swept away in the wet-wild-water-war over a four day weekend, while water-gun sales skyrocket.  This year marks the second time that I have had the thrill of being doused in honor of the Thai New Year.  The refreshing festival is said to purify recipients of negative energy so that they may start the New Year off 'clean.'  Moreover, the water blessing comes at a perfect time, when the air is so oppressively hot and humid it feels like an insufferable sauna.

On a recommendation, we checked out a restaurant in Bangkok called Cabbages and Condoms.  It is a MUST see/eat if you are in Thailand!  Delicious food at a reasonable price in a gorgeous setting.  They have several restaurants from Chaing Rai to Phuket and they all promote safe-sex and declare that condoms should be as easy to acquire as vegetables in the market, hence the name.

I LOVE Thailand despite all of its paradoxes and problems.  As soon as I boarded the Thai Airways plane at the disastrous Delhi Airport (where I had my first and only hissy fit in India), I was embraced by the warm, clean, accommodating Thai culture and atmosphere.  I didn't know whether to, as author Sarah Macdonald admitted to doing in her book Holy Cow, give India the finger, or forget about Her all together and start a love affair with beautiful, exotic Thailand.

*Me love you long time.

'Is it sacrilegious to pee in the Ganges?' I couldn't help but ponder this quandry as I submerged into the chilly green, only slightly putrid, holy water.  A group of near-naked 9 year old boys were splashing around beside me, probably urinating ecstatically.  I tried to justify my weakness, 'If I pee, and it is a sin, won't bathing in the Ganges clear me of the sin.'  Then I recalled that in Hinduism they often do not allow menstruating women into temples and holy sites, and, being on my moon, decided that perhaps I should not push my luck and commit a double whammy.  So, in the end I did not merge completely with the Ganges today.  Though I did surrender, once again, to the Ganga and earn a few brownie points for bringing my parents (who both caught a slight case of Rajastan's Revenge) to the ghat to bathe as well.  Good karma, come on down!

*(photo taken in Haridwar)

New Delhi, March 17, 2007

Reported: One stolen digital camera

Place: In a beautiful courtyard outside a cosmopolitan office building  complex where my friend Jenny, from UPEACE, now works.

Fault: I was finally with my friend- a local, I felt safe, I was not present;  I let my guard down

Suspect: White collar thief, perhaps Matt Damon from Oceans 11, but Indian.

Time: After lunching at the "American Diner"

Emotional response: Delayed denial; "That's strange, my bag is open...wait a minute, my camera is (pause) gone..." followed by optimism; "Maybe I dropped it, I'm going to retrace my steps and maybe I will find it..." followed by acceptance, "oh well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.  Luckily I didn't have many photos in it." 

HOWEVER
That same night, while dining in the unbearably spicy Punjabi by Nature restaurant, I contracted my first case of Delhi Belly.  Most likely a school of cute microscopic parasites are happily swimming around my innards causing all kinds of mayhem, which, almost immediately took the form of mucous/blood stools and urgent and painful eliminations(as a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer I have no shame in sharing my digestive issues, it is an integral part of healing).  This may not seem unusual to foreigners, but my Indian friend, Jenny, suffered along with me the next morning.  These are the moments that bond us together.

LOUISE HAY
says that parasites and diarrhea arise out of letting others take control and fear of losing control (i.e. of my possessions) and that I must affirm, "I am safe!  Life flows though me freely!  All is well in my world."

And so it is.  And luckily Jenny was there to take me to the hospital to get antibiotics, which were actually for my persistent ear infection (now my third round since I've been here, feeling quite weak).  But due to the Delhi Belly I've returned to the same hospital again and again, (OK, only twice).

MORAL OF STORY
1) Always hide your camera underneath something grotesque, like snooty tissues, rotting fruit or old underwear.

2)  Always remain present and aware of your surroundings

3) Think twice before eating at Punjabi by Nature (Jenny and I actually went back a week later since my folks have arrived and they were so rude that my Mom ended up walking out; she is not the kind of person that usually does that.  Jenny says that they were just living up to their name, as Punjabi people are said to be "tougher;" my Dad mentioned that had we been in a French restaurant we would have sat there and taken the arrogant service.  We ended up finding a lovely Italian restaurant with live soft music and rich gelato.  Che Bella!)

*With many thanks to my gorgeous, intelligent, loving and all-around amazing friend Jenny for being a wonderful hostess, guide and caretaker during my visit to Delhi.  Being with Jenny was a little slice of heaven after a long and winding road!

So, this means no more pictures from here on out.  Luckily Mama and Papa arrived a few days ago (just when I was at my LOW point) and brought with them loads of LOVE, pepto bismol, a digital camera and video camera.  LOVE Mama and Papa!

After an exhausting week of traveling across India (from sacred Haridwar where I bathed in the Ganges [after seeing a snake in the same spot where I was to bathe], to being robbed and sick in Delhi, to having mucous/blood stools on night trains to and from Varanasi -where I was so exhausted from my decongestants for my ear infection that I could hardly walk up stairs- to being overwhelmed in Gaya on my way to Bodhgaya -where Buddha reached enlightenment under a Bodhi tree) let's just say that I was more than happy to meet my parents at the airport and finally start my "vacation" portion of my journey.

My folks and I are currently shacking up in a hotel so nice (read: expensive) I am embarrassed to reveal the pricetag.  I am on my way to the exquisite steam-bath room.  I am down one camera, and perhaps my health has been better, but when you add it all up, hot damn am I a lucky one!  -And wholeheartedly grateful.

All is well in my world.
Namaste.

Please feel free to view MY PHOTOS of my recent pilgrimage to Dharamsala to hear the Dalai Lama's teachings.  Surprisingly, I didn't take many photos due to the fact that cameras were not allowed in the residence of His Holiness, and the monastery where I was staying for the majority of my time there was a good hike downhill.  Plus it rained/hailed for five days!

The last evening I was there I discovered that I suffered needlessly through seven cold and therefore sleepless nights; two other women at the monastery had heaters in their rooms as well as five blankets!  I had NO heater and one thick and one thin blanket!  Flabbergasted, the women merely asked, "Why didn't you ask for more blankets or a heater?"  Me: "Uh, I dunno, cause life is suffering?"

The last day of the teachings I was able to kneel quite close to His Holiness as he walked past and I swear -he looked at me!  It must be akin to oogling over Elvis, but instead of hurling my bra at him I wanted to hand over my heart and soul.  He is an amazing being, some say he is a saint or an avatar, though he humbly calls himself, "a simple monk."  I feel so honored to have been in his presence.

As any good, aspiring Buddhist would do while in India, I have made a pilgrimage to the now holy town of Dharamsala, home of the Tibetan government in-exile, including Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama as well as thousands of Tibetan refugees.  Though Dharamsala is shiveringly cold (especially in contrast to the hot beaches of Kerala), and decidedley wet (it has been raining and hailing for the last 4 consecutive days),  being in the presence of His Holiness warms my soul.  I have come not just to pay homage to this inspirational man, but to hear his teachings; which he gives publicly every year, and almost always, (unfortunately), during this frigid, rainy, spring season.  Those of you lucky folks in the Bay Area may get a chance to see His Holiness without suffering the harsh cold, as he will be coming to San Francisco/San Jose April 27-29.  I highly recommend taking the opportunity to see such an extraordinary being.  Here is more information on the Dalai Lama in San Francisco.  In addition you can check out the Dalai Lama's website for future schedules and other US teaching dates.

As a Buddhist (at-heart) and empathic being, hearing His Holiness and being surrounded by thousands of Tibetan Buddhist monks in "Little Lhasa" has left me completely in awe at the profound compassion they have towards the Chinese.  Just by being in this energy field I know that my own compassion and patience have increased, as it would be impossible for this tremendous love not to seep into the core of your being.  Realistically, I must admit that just by being near the Dalai Lama will not lead to enlightenment.  Even His Holiness humbly states that he has not reached  enlightenment yet (though I sure some would disagree).  I realize that to reach any level of higher consciousness will take a tremendous amount of diligence, hard work and sincere dedication to the path.  Of which I finally feel capable and willing!

I came to this sadly, undeniable truth partially because I realized that not even visiting the Dalai Lama would not make me more prone to meditate, as well as through reading, Cave in the Snow by Vickie Mackenzie.  Cave in the Snow is the story of Tenzin Palmo's quest to reach enlightenment in the female form.  The second Westerm woman ever to be ordained a Tibetan Buddhist nun, Tenzin Palmo spent 12 years meditating in a cave far North of Dharamsala.  I truly encourage you to read the book, not just because it is educational and extremely entertaining, but a portion of the royalties goes to the Dongyu Gatsal Ling nunnery that Tenzin Palmo founded in 2000. 

Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting Tenzin Palmo at the DGL nunnery.  I am still in the process of digesting our hour-and-a-half-long conversation over tea, but I am sure I will have some great spiritual nuggets to share with you all soon, perhaps over tea!  In the meantime, know that I am completely motivated to meditate (the inner-work I have been speaking of all along) and that I finally feel ready to take refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, upon return.

At one point I was afraid that I would not make it to see her in time and thus my oppoutunity to meet this incredible woman would be thwarted, by none other than (I say this with love and humor) the incompetent taxi driver.  You see, 40 minutes after visiting the quaint hillside town of Tashi Jong, and knowing that the nunnery should only be 10 minutes from the town, I asked my driver, "nunnery?"  He stopped the car at once and said, "here?"  I rolled down my window (as the condensation had completely blocked the view)  and saw a sign for 'pottery'.  The taxi driver declared, "Art gallery."  What???  "No, nunnery, nnnuuunneerryy!"  "Oh, Art Gallery?"  "Noooooo, nunnery."  Another 40 minutes later we arrived late, but we arrived! Realizing that my time-conscious American culture makes me extremely anxious about arriving late (hence why we left with plenty of time to spare, or so I thought), I kept thinking of the Buddha's quote, "It is better to travel well than to arrive."  The meaning of this quote has evolved throughout my journey, but yesterday I felt the full meaning and the irony of getting irritated about being late on the way to meet a nun.  Luckily, the 'art gallery' confusion lended me a convenient ice-breaker!

With fortune smiling upon me, on my second day in upper Dharamsala I met the Director of the Tsechokling Monastery and have been staying in their Guest House for the past several nights. It is picturesque and quiet, and a good hike up to bustling McLeod Ganj and the residence of the Dalai Lama. Living in a maroon sea of Buddhist monks, listening to His Holiness, I realized that I have no excuses for my suffering.

Tonight is my last night here as the teachings are coming to an end, and though some may surmise that I could live here forever, I say, "Think again!" Though I love being near the Dalai Lama, I am a fair-weather fan. I have endured seven cold-sleepless nights and I would really like to feel my toes again. Compared to the plight of the Tibetans, I feel so selfish to desire my usual comforts, but like I said earlier, I just haven't reached that ego-less state yet.

March 10th was a day for international uprisings to Free Tibet. I, like most other Westerners here, spent the day in bed, feeling sorry for the Tibetans who just can't seem to catch a break, as it literally rained on their parade. Of course, the weather did not deter them, what I did see of the rally was monks with Tibetan flags painted on their faces, smiling in spite of the cold, ready to go home.

In the taxi on my way out of town yesterday, we drove past an entirely female Free Tibet procession.  My heart responded, "Sisters, I will join you."  And so I must.

Please visit the website for the Tibetan Centre for Human Rights and Democracy.

Please do not support the 2008 Olympics in Beijing!

And please grant all of us compassion and patience to work together for a free Tibet.

Miraculously, the sun has emerged from behind the dense  wall of dreary, grey clouds and the whole town has been transformed by the golden light that preceeds the sunset.  It is still raining, but only lightly now.  There must be rainbows everywhere. 

View my photos of Kerala and Bangalore! The first few photos are at Amma's Ashram, when I am in my "Vestal Virgin" white outfit.  I took tons of photos on the houseboat in Allepey on the backwaters (Kerala) and then I took a few of the Naadi astrologer in Chennai. After that I went back to Bangalore and my friend Jain and I went to Mysore to see the Majarajah's Palace and agian I saw Amma, so it is full circle!  I don't expect you to look at all of them cause many of them are similar, but  I hope you enjoy!

Click on PHOTOS

Please feel free to view my photos!

I have officially been in India for two months.  I have not kept up with this blogsite regularly, as you may have noticed, but life just seems to occupy my time more than expected.  There is so much more I could say, but perhaps I will save it for a personal visit.  I will do my best to fill in the major happenings.  Thank you for reading!

It seems that I keep going to the same places, meeting the same people, making connections that are meant to be made, and missing events that I had planned on making.  Like a dog chasing my own tail, I have been traipsing around India in circles.  I was spat out of sacred Tiruvannamali after having a conversation with a guru at a cafe who had previously spoken at CIIS; I have not taken his advice but kept it in mind.  He said that Westerners often come to India to de-program.  De-program from our rigid schedules, from our jobs, from our relationship with time, etc.  But instead of de-programming we just re-program by planning our trip, by scheduling yoga classes and lunches and not going with the flow and relaxing.  He said we need to learn how to just sit.  I rarely shy away from challenges and it seemed like he was double-dog daring me to not do anything at all.  Even though at the time I yearned to control my path, (to have control) I surrendered; from there on out I made a vow that I would try to tap into the flow wherever I was led.  The guru also stated, somewhat as an afterthought, that India is so big that you don't want to have to traverse it many times, so go to one place and stay there, rather than having to go back and forth.  That is the advice I have not heeded.  Here is the laundry list of where I have been to and through so far; notice the repetitions:

Bombay

Chennai (transit)

Auroville/Pondicherry

Tiruvannamali

Chennai (transit)

Trivandrum (transit)

Kovalam

Varkala

Amma's Ashram

Kovalam

Trivandrum (transit)

Bangalore

Trivandrum

Kannyakumari

Kovalam

Amma's Ashram

Allepey

Kochin (transit)

Chennai

Bangalore

Mysore

Bangalore

Logically, I would do as the wise man stated and not go back to the same places.  On the other hand I was taking his advice and going with the flow.  The flow is to blame.  India is taking me on a ride and I am here, I am listening, where to next?  Tiruvannamali again?

Although the Association for the Happiness for All of Mankind is housed in Tiruvannamali, and I had wanted to go there for over a year because of they teach meditation to prisoners, it was not the time.  Actually, three weeks after having left Tiru. I looked AHAM up on the internet.  When I discovered that they were located in Tiru (I was not aware of that important fact), and that I was there  for  a week and that I actually took a picture of the ashram, you would think I would laugh at the flow.  But I felt nauseous, how could I have missed it?  And then I took a deep breath, once again surrendering to this divine flow. It was not meant to be.

So, back to being spat out of Tiruvannamali after spending the night on my newfound friends' (Kristen and Michael) floor... I went to the bus station thinking that it would be a pleasant journey to go to Bangalore and from there to Goa, since it seemed relatively close and direct (in India close is about 24 hours away, not like going to Tahoe, close).  But logic is not a friend of the flow so it ended up that the bus going to Bangalore was not direct and they recommended that I take a direct bus which would be leaving in three hours and would have required that I stand in a (cough) "line" with 20 young men pushing each other without an iota of room between then.  Instantaneously my core shouted, "ain't no way I'm getting in that line," so I found a bus going to Chennai.  There was one seat left, next to the driver.  I got on and the bus left.  Flow.  An hour later I found myself embracing a sleeping angel and from there on was the bus care-taker of babies.  In Chennai (a massive industrial and unattractive city) I meandered to the train station, finally found the tournist "counter," asked where the trains were heading and three hours later found myself on a 20 hour sleeper to idyllilc Kerala.

The train was much nicer than I expected.  Unknowingly I had sat in 2^nd AC class, much nicer than the cheap sleeper class I purchased a ticket for.  I happily paid the difference in fare and quickly befriended the folks in my compartment.  One Indian man who had been living in Florida for some time suggested I do an overnight houseboat tour in Allepey, the backwaters of Kerala.  I thanked him as I silently considered how it would be for a single woman to take an overnight houseboat tour and decidedly crossed it off my list of possibilities.  Two American missionaries recommended I visit Kannyakumari at the southernmost tip of India.  They also invited me to stay with them in Chennai, if I ever came that way again.  Not as open as one might expect me to be, I graciously thanked them, all the while thinking, "No, Kannyakumari is not for me and there is no way in HELL I am going back to Chennai."  Ha ha, the flow was laughing at me.