Go with your gut, or it will surely get got

Traveling and exploring different lands and cultures and foods and languages feels about as foreign sometimes to me as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Recently, visiting lesser developed countries has brought more fulfillment (not to mention excitement) to my life, than visiting more developed ones. Of course, travel anywhere tests feats of strength in many ways, including navigation and language barriers, but if you care to test your patience, comfort level, and above all, toilet facility usage, take a tour out east.

I'm one of those fortunate people who loves road trips and being in motion in moving vehicles. I can ride for hours and hours, entertaining myself and my company. Unfortunately, my tiny bladder doesn't always agree, and combined with my water drinking addiction, I'm my fellow road trippers' truck stop nightmare. Traveling all over the US, I've began to think of any trip in terms of toilets. The stretch on I-35 from Norman to Carrollton? I bet I've seen the inside of at least 50 different stalls at about 20 different stations, since moving to Norman about 10 years ago.

In the States I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I get all the Loves and QuikTrips and Flying Js I want and I can even choose to prefer them to the state rest stop areas. But in reality, I could "tour" any toilet, and in reality, I probably have. Because no matter if you're offered plush, quilted toilet paper and a wide sitting space, or squatting over a concrete slab with a mouse-house sized hole, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

As one might imagine, road trips in India are a little more, let's say, intense... At 6:30am on Feb 5th, we left our hotel in the undesirable city of Agra, in route to Rishikesh. Our driver, Hari, warned us it could take about 12 hours, but not because the distance is that far. It's only about 210 miles, approximately the same distance from north Oklahoma City, to downtown Dallas. It takes about an hour to simply escape the gridlock and honks of any city in India. And you're never really free of either one of those, completely. And it took us about 2 hours to pass through the capital city, Delhi, with about 1.5 million residents. And once we finally got north of Delhi and out on the "open" road, it went down to two lanes, which really put the word "trip" back in road trip. We took turns switching seats, but the lucky person who needed the front for carsickness or space, got a personal omniplex presentation, as Steven said. Hari was constantly starting and stopping and dodging traffic, cows, people, potholes, you name it... We saw a couple of serious accidents, and then, about 15 minutes later, saw the ambulance fighting traffic from the opposite direction. But we were fine, and very fortunate road trippers. We had an extremely skillful and patient driver, books and music and snacks, a guaranteed pick up and drop off, fuel, a reliable car, and above all, all the opportunities to tour toilets-western, eastern, outside, inside, pubic and personal, that we wanted.

Hari was pretty dead on, and by7:30pm, we arrived in Laxman Juhle, just north of Rishikesh, in the foothills of the Himalayas, and a yogi's dream, or an indecisive person's (like me) nightmare. Stacy informed me that the Beatles came here in the 60s, and after which, the town garnered much attention. Now it is known for a backpacker's destination and it is a mix of yoga shalas and ashrams and restaurants and souvenir stands and ayurvedic centers and holistic holes, every single way you glance. I think we have done a pretty good job of filtering out most of the signs and information to have an enjoyable and relaxing time here, and escape from the over crowded and polluted cities. Our hotel, Divya, is simple and cheap and slightly away from strip. We've tried out different shalas and yoga classes, including Ashtanga (the kind I practice in Norman), Vinyasa flow, and traditional Hatha yoga. We've walked down the quieter streets and explored unfamiliar paths, which often led to the Ganges River, but always a new adventure. One day, we took a motor rickshaw down to Rishikesh and spent a day watching people in their pilgrimage to the Hindu holy waters. Jen and Stacy bought an offering of flowers from a woman and we all contemplated and participated in the culture and enjoyed the river in our own ways (including befriending beggar children, indulging in paparazzi pictures, writing, and dipping our feet into the waters).

Yesterday, we found another way to the river, down a rocky ridge, in Laxman Juhle. After discovering a lingam (represented in rock form, it is the fire that has no beginning or end) alter and writing for a while, my tiny bladder told me it was was time for another toilet tour. I trusted my gut and asked to use a resident's bathroom when I saw a boy looking down at me from above, outside a window. I walked inside, used the bathroom, and on my way out, the voices from one of the rooms called out to me to "come in, come in"! I bent down to peer inside, and two old men sat around a tiny wood fire, boiling raw cow's milk, behind a giant alter of pictures and statues of Hindu gods and goddesses. Dressed in orange, beards tinted orange from henna and hair knotted and dreaded and wrapped around heads like a giant turban, Omkar Puri and Bhola Baba invited me in. After a split second thought, I was taking off my shoes and joining them for a cup of milk. The men were Sadus, said to denounce worldly possessions in exchange for faith. They invited the rest of my "family" in and before we knew it, we were hearing the history of the Ganges River in Hindi first, then the whole thing again translated to English, and being invited for dinner the next day. Stacy commented that the story was a good one, and Omkar Puri exclaimed it wasn't a story, but of course, the truth! (and how would we think otherwise, when in ancient times, a Sadu killed a king's 60,000 sons with a single nostril blow of fire)?!

Tonight we are off on a sleeper train back to Delhi, to catch a flight back to Mumbai and recuperate at Steven's sanctuary for a day, before heading down south, to warmer climate and spicier food, near the beach town of Goa. The sleeper train brings thought of the movie Darjeeling Ltd, and by the end of India, I think we will have just about experienced all of the major modes of transportation a person can take! It's been cold here and we've all been a little under the weather at some point, up north. We have about 10 days left of our journey and I can't believe we've seen and experienced this much. My traveling companions are considerate and adventurous and polite and organized and I'm enjoying every minute of this trip. I keep thinking positively and am excited to find out what's in stall the next time duty calls...

Can I drive your rickshaw?

Ah, the open road. The fresh air. For a second there, I forgot I was in India. Then we passed a herd of camels, 10 bicycle rickshaws carrying 20x their weight, I looked up and and saw the traffic coming at me from the wrong side, circled a few roundabouts, then was brought back to Asia...

Since leaving the calming quarters of Steven's apartment on campus in Mumbai, we hit the ground running, to experience the offerings of the streets of one of the most populated cities in the entire world. Our sleeping quarters coincidentally proportionately represented the crowdedness of Delhi, and after 3 nights of what Jennifer coined "pallet surfing", with 10-15 other residents and fellow Couch Surfers, I felt like I had seen as much of Delhi as I needed to see. Staying with the family was humbling and I was re-exposed to the bucket bath, this time in an emclosed space, with an electric plate placed in the bucket to warm it up. Like I mentioned before, couch surfing is always a roll of the dice, but I am traveling with some serious troupers and even though it was initially a shock (perhaps in a couple of ways for Stacy during bath time), we all agreed that we were grateful for the hospitality and kindness of our hosts and that it certainly is important to understand or at least experience a glimpse of life through a "middle class" Indian's eyes.

After 3 nights in Delhi, we were on our way to Jaipur, at the suggestion of our CS host. We opted for hiring a car for four days through Wahoe Travel and so far we haven't been steered wrongly. In Jaipur we went to a couple of monument sites, including the Red Fort, where we wooed the nationals with some acrobatic yoga and juggling. (Don't worry there are pictures and video-as if being westerners didn't draw enough attention). But even before we began the show, Jennifer and my's blonde hair already made us famous. I am beginning to get quite the collection of photos with other Indians. I wonder what they do with theirs... The next day, we visited the Amber Fort, Sawai Jai Singh, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and an Indian astrological observatory, the Nar Har Garh, a palace made of marble, where we could see the entire city of Jaipur, down below. I sat outside the Amber Fort palace, but inside the walls of the fort, while Jen, Stacy and Steven went inside. It was only a matter of minutes of sitting under a tree and writing, before one family after another approached me to take photos with them. In Jaipur, we stayed at this hotel called Hotel Moonlight Palace, that was exquisite and made us all the more appreciative of our previous quarters.

Today we left early in the morning with Hare, our sweet and patient driver, to head to Agra. It is the the first time I've really been able to see the "countryside" of India. It was nice to see fields of green and grains and flowers and eucalyptus trees lining the streets. I even caught site of a hand water pump. Once, we stopped for a pee and breakfast break, but not even Hare thought the restaurant was up to standards, so we rode on. Agra is known for one thing and one thing only: the Taj Mahal- Shan Jahad's wife's tomb. After stepping foot in Agra, I know one thing and one thing only: I'll never come back. Touring the Taj Mahal is like touring Disney Land, on a stimulant. Ushered this way, corralled that way, foreigners line up here, pay this much, plus this much more to pee. The only other exciting thing besides the incredible and magnificent Taj, was that I convinced a bicycle rickshaw driver to let me drive him on his own rickshaw. Of course, it was not without a price!

Tomorrow we'll head out of town again to try to seek some peace and solace, after a 12 hour car ride, to Rishikesh, a town in the foothills of the Himalayas, known for meditation and yoga. THAT will be a breath of fresh air. Until that is, I wake up from my nights sleep!

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.

Out with the old.

In with the new...year.

This time of year is common for reflection and projection. Did you get to travel to the places you wanted, or spend time with all the people, or read those books or learn an instrument or perfect the 2nd language? No? Well, why the hell not? What do you think inhibited those actions? Are there ways that you might be able to incorporate those activities into your life in 2012? What about in the first half of 2012?

Ever since my birthday and my Nana's departure day, last August, I've been on this huge kick about making the most of my time. Nearly every day, I'll start off by writing down at least three things that I feel are the most important to me that day. I think it's okay to start off vague, but usually I end up getting very specific. Sometimes I draw pictures or work on an existing poem, or makes lists about errands to be run. Basically, I just take about 10 minutes to prioritize my day and figure out what's going to help propel me through its web. Many times what ends up happening is that I accomplish most of what I aim for that day, but if there is something that lingers, I put it at top priority for the next. I don't get down on myself if I cannot cross everything off, but instead, I feel rewarded with all of the things I was able to do and soak in the surprises that I wasn't expecting.

For the first time in many new years, I am excited about the resolution and goal-setting aspect. The other day, I attended a workshop that helped me reflect on this past year, with regard to the seasons and time of year when significant events occured. The I made projections about 2012 and linked them to the seasons, with words and pictures, using a circle to navigate the year. I was so surprised to realize how much I had accomplished last year and it helped re-assure that it's okay to be ambitious this year! A couple of mine include finish my first novel, ride inside a hot air balloon, participate in projects to help improve my community, continue to be available to friends and family, hosts workshops to share other's knowledge about healthy and sustainable ways of living and rejuvenate the USPS by means of getting people to hand write more letters!! I have many more things I'd like to do this next year, but I think it's okay to start out small and expand once you get into the groove of a new project.

Last year, I experienced a lot of loss, but not just with death of family members. I am sure many people experienced similar loss and know what I'm talking about. It's often not something we can prepare for, and loss is bound to happen in this coming year, but I am grateful for what I have gained from personal grief that transformed into personal growth.

If you internalize what it is that you're hoping to gain from this brief blip of a life, then you're one step ahead of the game. Share it with your friends and help them become the best they can be, too. We're all in this together and I'm in it for the long haul!

Happy New Day 2012!

Look No Further Than Local

Sorry Mom, I will always call Norman, OK my home.

Norman, Oklahoma reminds me of a lot of different things. It makes me think of the early years when I was a student and how excited I was to move away from home for the very first time. I had such a great experience as a student and joined a plethora of clubs and organizations like the rowing team and Alpha Phi Omega. I finally declared social work as my major and gained an entirely new family over at little ol' Rhyne Hall. I don't think you can't help but grow up during those years, and after 5 years of school and consistent relationships, I graduated to another version of myself.

I'll be honest, it took quite a bit of time after moving back from Gambia to feel welcomed back to a place I had spent so much time making memories in. But I went through the process of buying a home, building a new network of amazing and like-minded friends and looking at the community a little differently than I ever had before. I discovered a uniquely colored leaf and turned to examine the underneath side, which was much more interesting and compatible.

Then I embarked on this art and music tour and left for a couple of months. I had always admired those I'd meet that were coming and going, but still called Oklahoma their home, and all of a sudden, I think I am one of them. Normanites claim there's a vortex in the town, and I can attest to that. This time, when I came back, I immediately felt like a piece of the puzzle, returning to its rightful place. After 10 years of coming and going and seeing the same lovely faces, it is clear that there is something about this place. It feels like we are all doing our part to help continue to contribute to making our little bubble beautiful in endless ways.

It's nice to be here for a while, before loading up my pack on my back, once again, to see the other side of the bubble.