The Spatilloman's Sightseeing Adventure

Oh crowded and jerky public transport, how I've missed you. Everything whizzes by twice as fast and the vibrant colors swirl into one giant swoosh. It's incredible how much one can learn about a country and culture just by traveling from point A to point B. Whether or not people will stand in a line seems to be an incredible indicator of the country's economic situation. In Gambia, you practically had to knock people down to get on a gele gele. And when the ferry was ready for boarding, people simply couldn't grasp the concept of patience and to my dismay, I felt forced to adapt that principle from time to time. Because if you didn't, you might literally miss the bus.

When Amina and I traveled in Morocco last July, I found it hard not to compare the two African countries. Although we didn't utilize much public transport thanks to the generosity and kindness of Amina's father and his car, the line frustration still came about. One time a woman tried to cut in front of me in a public restroom after I had been patiently yet urgently awaiting, and she almost met her fate.

So far in India, we've traveled by taxi, ferry boat, bus, plane, metro and bicycle rickshaw. By far the most types of public transport in a country other than the US. There seems to be more of a concept and awareness of lines, which makes it feel personal when someone crosses yours. But the streets are in constant motion and activity, to a degree that is frightening sometimes. But it comes to no surprise with approximately 1.5 billion Indian residents. I've also noticed that the type of public transport that you're taking that is affected by the "line index", which really is also indicative of wealth, to some degree. Then, all of a sudden, the four of us boarded a bike rickshaw to our couch surfing host's alleyway apartment in Delhi, and the trip really got interesting. Hold on to your bells!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This trips is humbling in so many ways. It brings back an abundance of memories from Gambia and memories, good and bad, can be so difficult to handle sometimes. Our host in Delhi, Sonu, is generous and kind. She is trying to work with a group of kids from the slum neighborhoods and also putting efforts to open doors for women through educating them informally in her home. She and her husband, Raja are originally from Nepal and had an arranged marriage 10 years ago. They have a 7 year old son, Joli, whom has taken a liking to all of us, but particularly Steven. They play politics by way of the board game "International Business" (like Monopoly), on a daily basis. This morning, we were invited to mediation with Dev, Raj's brother. He recited some Kundalini yoga energy balance kriyas and gave us some insight into our personalities. He also did my numerology and read my palms and told me to pay close attention to those with names beginning with the letters L, S and G, and taking everything with a grain of salt, urged me to become a vegetarian. (BTW, I hadn't told him I wasn't). And then, afterwards, he told us that he could help book our tour for our travels to Jai Pur and Agra, via automobile... How convenient! ;).

Anyway, the four of us are traveling really well together and I'm enjoying the company and personalities that everyone is bringing forth. Our first couple of days in Mumbai were spent at Steven's apartment, on the campus of the TIFR campus. It is a nice oasis for us to escape to, after traipsing around the crowded city. We drank tea and ate some meals at the canteens (cafes) on campus and its a safe place for me to run. One morning, Steven's friend, Devika, joined us for yoga, and she added to our practice with the demonstration and explanation of pranayama breathing.

We have played the roll of the famous white person more than once, the extent to which people will literally ask us for pictures, in addition to shaking our hands and touching our hair. I've long wondered how many pictures and videos of others I've been in, in the US, and this is taking it to a whole new dimension.

Too much to describe in one sitting, but certainly, there will be more to share. So glad I'm here with my "family" (Stacy is mom, Steven is older brother, Jen is middle sister and I, the baby). Together, we are the Spatillomans...

Leggy and Jetty

Under the full moon light, their day is your night.

You lose 10 hours by the bright of the sun.

Five hour layovers, worse than your 1st hangover.

Immigration, customs and baggage claim baggage.

Herded like cattle to hurry up and wait.

The larger the legs, the longer the lag and before you know it your jet black Pegasus has sprouted another limb...thanks to rainy weather in Dubai or re-routing to Mumbai.

And maybe somehow, three days from now, your brain might catch up with your eyes?

The first full day in Mumbai brought back a lot of memories from the streets of Fajara, The Gambia. Birds are vocal, streets are active and trees are tall and fruity. People were less aggressive than I was expecting, which was a nice surprise! I am so happy to be here and so grateful to be experiencing this culture for the first time with friends. Mysore am yoga...check. Or pm? I don't think I'll be able to tell the difference for a while.

Oh, hey, I'm going to India

It's here. The day is here and my Pegasus has his wings spread ready for flight. And my desert is yellow and brown and red and orange with a cup-sized cube made of pencils, balancing a ladder made of paper towel rolls, next to a prickly pear cactus and its red cactus rose on its tip. Here we go; the storm is off in the distance, but its electric lightening is no longer shocking. Well, I think that about sums it up.