namaste

(written April 20, 2010) A little over a week ago, I left the polluted air of Kathmandu and took a tourist bus to the smaller town of Pokhara which is a gateway to the Himalayas. The bus was a few hours delayed because of a break down and a small roadblock protest due to electricity outages (almost an every day occurrence here). I had heard that there was a women's empowerment program there that employed women to guide and support the treks into the Himalayas. I had a limited time to do my trek, and I didn't want to do it on my own, so I went to the Three Sisters Adventure Trekking and hired a guide. I thought it was a great idea to support a woman, especially because I've heard that sex trafficking and prostitution is still common in Nepal when women can't make a good living in other fields.

When a short Nepali girl named Muna greeted me with a warm smile, I had a feeling I was in for a treat. She had a soft, sweet voice, and though her English was broken, I could tell she had a good heart. So we packed up and headed up into the mountains for a week-long trek. As much as I wanted to get up past the tree line, and close to those beautiful peaks, I decided to take it easy as I didn't have enough time to get there with a moderate pace, plus, I heard about villages, hot springs, waterfalls, beautiful views and rhododendron forests. There was no need for a tent, a stove, or even a sleeping bag because we would be staying at friendly lodges and tea houses along the way. It was quite warm the first couple days, so I wasn't shy about jumping into the river to cool off once in a while. The area was full of rice fields, waterfalls, cornfields, orchids, butterflies, and beautiful Nepalese people who greeted me with "Namaste!" and usually a smile. It wasn't until the middle of the second day that we got a glimpse of the legendary peaks.

When I wasn't completely out of breath from climbing up the steep stone stairs and trails, I got to talk with Muna about her life. She grew up in a small mountain town, a few hours from the trek around the Annapurna Circuit. Her father died when she was only seven, and she is the oldest of three kids. Women are not allowed to re-marry in Nepal, so Muna's mother continued her farming work and raised her children with love and faith. Muna only went to school through the eight grade, when she came home and started working to support her family. She wanted to make more money for her family, so when she was 20, she was accepted into a scholarship program at Three Sisters, where they taught her English, ecology, trekking, and climbing. She had to start as a porter, carrying sometimes up to 50kg of tourist's gear on her back. She had some amazing stories, of getting stuck in hail storms, getting lost, and having to sleep in the dining halls of crowded lodges. But she is learning more English and hopes to become a full fledged guide, leading groups on treks into the mountains.

The trail followed a beautiful river valley, up into the hills and through beautiful woods and little villages. The morning we were in Ghorepani, we woke up at 4am for a heart-pounding hike up to Poon hill (10,561 feet, 3,219 meters) in the cold, in order to watch the sun rise over the Annapurna and Dauliguri mountains. It was a spectacular sight, watching the light hit those gorgeous snow-capped mountains, and the camera shutters were going off like crazy! Every night, we would stay at a simple lodge where we would have a hot shower and a warm dinner (very luxurious for trekking!) And we would be up early the next morning to get some miles in before it got really hot. I loved being up in these villages, which were far away from roads and cars. Anything that the villagers or trekkers needed that couldn't be grown on the terraced fields was carried to the villages by mules and people carrying heavy loads with a strap on their head. My neck ached every time one of them walked by me (usually carrying twice more than I was, and walking twice as fast as me!) Muna was wonderful company, and we grew quite close through the week. One day, we decided to take it easy and enjoy a day resting and going to a hot spring. I was able to give her a massage and was thrilled when she was snoring away. I could feel the tension from carrying all the weight all those years, as well as the weight of the responsibility of taking care of her family, and was glad I could do a little something in return for all the support she was giving me. In Chomrong, I had a massage from a local Tibetan man who was offering massages to the trekkers because I was having some pain in my foot and ankle. My “flat-lander” legs were pretty tender from covering all those mountain miles, and it was a good learning experience of what NOT to do when someone is so tender. But I still appreciated being able to receive a massage while out on a trek! And later that night, the locals were celebrating their New Year with dancing and singing and drumming! It was so beautiful... and fun to watch the porters dance their hearts out despite the heavy loads they had carried that day.

I was hoping to go to a meditation course while I was traveling, but my time was running out, and I wanted to see more of the country and experience the culture. So, I brought along a book about walking meditation by Tich Nhat Hanh and practiced the techniques as I was hiking along. It was a good challenge to watch my breath, especially as the stone steps got steeper, and the sun got more intense. I could observe the thoughts in my mind that were saying “this is ridiculous… I am so hot and tired… I can’t wait for the next shady spot!” and I would return my awareness to my breathing and do my best to enjoy the present moment. I also noticed when my mind was saying “I love this view… I am going to miss this when I am back in the big city” and realize that I wasn’t fully in the present. I would bring my awareness to each step I was taking, and visualize a lotus flower blossoming under each step I took, planting seeds of joy and happiness. I also liked Tich Nhat Hahn’s idea of focusing on gratitude, and would say to myself “yes, yes, yes” (with my inhale) and “thanks, thanks, thanks” with my exhale. Or, if I was hiking up a steep part and my breath was as short as my step, I would say “yes, thanks, yes, thanks.” And once in a while, I would get a flash of one of the disfigured people I saw in India and a wave of gratitude would wash over me.


After trekking my week of trekking, I returned to the town of Pokhara, where I connected with a 26 year old Tibetan woman named Tsering who a friend in Chicago had connected me with. In 1959, her grandparents fled their homeland in Togpa, Tibet and walked for two weeks with their two young children in order to flee their home in Tibet with hopes of a better life in Nepal. They live in a refugee camp just outside of town, where Tibetan people live in a community, trying to carry on their traditional ways of living, far from their homeland. The Nepalese government still doesn’t issue residence cards for them, or even their children who were born in Nepal. So, they can’t get official jobs, and they are continually denied the opportunity to leave the country. Tsering is a single mother, and her parents both have serious health problems, and the only way their family makes money is by selling souvenirs to tourists. So she spoke to me of her dream to come to America, where she can hopefully make more money and take care of her parents and give her son a better life. She thinks of this dream many times everyday, and it stresses her out that she is not able to go. In fact, she is not able to leave her country except to go to India for a spiritual pilgrimage. This made me feel extremely grateful for the freedom that I have to travel, and work almost anywhere. I tried to tell her that it is not always so easy to make good money in America, even for American citizens, and pointed out to her how beautiful her life is in Nepal, with her parents close by, and the beautiful temples and natural wonders that she can visit easily, and the amount of time she can spend with her son. I gave her her first massage, and she loved it, and had many questions. She is interested in learning massage therapy, and I am considering returning to Nepal to teach a group of Tibetans massage so that they have another way to make money. Of course I envy her life a bit, because she gets to live near the most beautiful mountains in the world, and has a beautiful son, and a supportive community. But, the grass is always greener, and I am doing my best to be grateful for every moment, wherever my feet are landing.

Namaste

generosity

The majestic snow-capped Himalayan Mountains have been calling me for a long time. The photos and movies that I have seen of the nature as well as the people that live in the mountains seemed very exotic to this city girl from the great plains. So, I had to pinch myself when I landed in the airport in Kathmandu, Nepal. I spent a couple days in the city getting my trek organized and doing a bit of sight-seeing, and of course, getting a massage. The massage I had was not great, though I thought the woman had good intentions, so I asked the other therapist to come in and lay on the table so that I could show her a couple tricks. She was so happy about this that she called me her sister and gave me a hug, and asked me if I liked Nepali food. I told her it was my first day in Nepal, and she promptly invited me to her home for dinner! Luckilly her husband spoke better English than she did, and her son was very pleased with the chocolate that I brought him. Their home was a very simple one-room apartment with a seperate kitchen and bathroom, and they were happy to have me over. They cooked me a dinner of "dal bhat" - lentils, rice, potatoes and some steamed cabbage. This is the standard Nepali meal, which is quite filling, and very healthy. They offered to let me stay in their home, but I politely declined and headed back to my hotel room.

The next day, while touring the beautiful area of Kathmandu called Patan, I met a woman at the Hindu temple who just about wanted to adopt me and bring me to her village. Too bad I already had plans to go to the mountains the next morning, I would have loved to meet her husband who is a musician. But I did enjoy touring the area with her, and she brought us over to her sister-in-law's tiny storefront where she was selling eggs by the dozen. I was getting a bit hungry, so her sister went out of her way to go back to her kitchen and cook up a couple eggs for me! And of course she wouldn't let me pay for the eggs.

So, Nepali people get the prize for being the most generous so far!

contrast

Varanasi is a city full of contrasts... life and death are right at your fingertips. It is the most auspicious place to be cremated for a Hindu, so people bring dead bodies there from all over India. And it is also full of life, with all of the colorful pilgrims who come there to have a dip in the sacred Ganges river, or visit one of the many Brahman priests for a colorful puja, healing ceremony. The dark ashes at the cremation grounds contrast with the bright fire from the evening arati ceremony on the river. And the filthy ascetics contrast with the radiant shine of the golden temple. The people in Varanasi can be super gentle and sweet, and some are incredibly pushy and rough.

I loved allowing myself to get lost, strolling through the tiny alley-ways that wound through this ancient city. These walkways are too small for cars, and traffic jams happen when a sacred cow and a motorcycle are trying to get through the same small space. Once, I heard chanting and looked up expecting a joyful parade like I saw in Rishikesh, only to see a family carrying a dead body on a bamboo plank, covered in bright gold cloth and flowers. The sunrise boat ride was perfect for sightseeing, with the morning light shined on the colorful saris of the women dipping in the river, the men praying and meditating, the children playing cricket, and the puppies playing in the sand.

I thought I would study some massage in Varanasi, but I found the massages that I had there to be simple and not very satisfying (next time I come to India, I will go to Kerela to study massage). Instead of massage, I decided to study Indian vocals! I love listening to, and singing along with Indian chanting music, and I sometimes sing back-up with the local kirtan group in Chicago, Devi2000). So, I thought it would be nice to learn more about traditional Indian vocals. My instructor promptly told me I needed to learn Harmonium at the same time I learned how to sing, so I learned the Indian scale (similar to Do Re Me...) and we were singing away! I took three lessons with him, and I can't say I learned much about vocalizing, but I had fun, and enjoyed the Harmonium! He was impressed with my pronounciation, as well as how fast I pickedup harmonium (thanks to 10 years of piano lessons!) And it was a nice way to pass the time on a hot afternoon.

Many people say a trip to India is not complete without a trip to the Taj Mahal, so I headed there for one day, and it was amazing. I loved walking through the entrance, with the feeling of awe that I was actually seeing the legendary building itself... live and in person. What a testimony to love! I met another solo woman traveler watching the last of the sunset light brush against the Taj, and she invited me to her rickshaw driver's friend's wedding! I quickly went out and purchased a Punjabi dress, pants and scarf, and we hopped into the rickshaw to see the wedding. It was nothing like what I have seen in the movies, except that the bride was covered in decorations, and the red sari was covering her face. She didn't appear to be a very happy bride, and I wondered if she was upset with the arranged marriage. My friend and I became the highlight of the party. There was no music being played, and no drinking, as it was a Muslim wedding. The sparkling, henna tatooed wedding party posed for pictures with us, and the kids all wanted to play with us. Some of the girls were giggling and laughing and pointing at me (I'm sure I made some kind of faux-pas, but I will never know what because they would not tell me). They made sure we were well fed, and we ate just like everyone else, with our fingers, standing up! Soon after we were done eating, it was time to go home! So that was it, no dancing, and we never saw the bride and groom together. It was still a great experience!

I spent one day in Delhi, soaking in the sights, and taking advantage of the opportunity to buy beautiful Indian textiles, and having fun with the barganing adventure, sending a box of gifts and goodies home. And I am now writing you from Kathmandu, Nepal where I will soon be on a heading for the Himalayan Mountains for some trekking. (And this time I will be hiking above the smog, and I will hopefully get a good view!) Just three more weeks on this amazing adventure and I will be back in the states!

choice

It is probably a good idea to read the fine print in your guide book before you chose the type of train ticket you book in India. There is a wide range of seats available. All I cared about was being able to lay down flat, since it was 20 hour journey from Sikkim to Varanasi, so I booked "sleeper class". When my friends heard this, they told me to lock my bags up, and be very cautious about thieves, as the train was going through the province of Bihar, one of the poorest areas of the country. I was hoping to have a buddy to take this trip with, but I didn't have any luck with that on this leg of my journey. But I had faith that I would connect with an angel or two along my journey. What I usually do is get myself in a really good mood, and smile a lot, and I bring out the best in people (I also keep my valuables in my handy hip pouch). I sat down in across from a sweet couple who couldn't help but stare, and a young Indian man sat next to me who was thrilled with the opportunity to practice his English. I was the only foreigner on the train. It was a pretty dark car, and could definitely use a good scrub, but I opened the windows, and was happy to see the beautiful country side rolling by clearly. I later found out that the A/C and first class cars have plexiglass windows, which are often scratched up and difficult to see out of, so I took advantage of this ride by gazing out at the people and landscapes that we passed (and attempted to capture the beauty with my camera, of course!) The young guy ended up keeping me company and translating for the couple (who thought I was very brave, traveling solo... she rarely leaves her house without her husband). I soon found out that she was on her way to Varanasi because they have a good hospital, and she had a lump in her breast. Her vitality seemed low, and I wondered if she might have cancer, and imagined how different her journey would be from the people I have worked with in my massage practice in the states.

Every stop the train made, local people would come aboard, selling mangoes, cucumbers, samosas, tshirts, toys, water, and of course chai tea! Along with the vendors came the beggars. And as soon as they saw my blond hair, they saw gold, and came right to me. The kids would reach through the metal bars on the window with their little hands, tapping my shoulder, then opening up to receive, saying "madame, madame" and motioning to their mouths. It was difficult for me to see children in this state, as you almost never see children this poor where I am from. I had heard that begging was a bit of a business, and that there were bosses who collected the money from these children and managed things (as seen in Slumdog Millionaire) and I didn't want to support this business. I did however want to make sure that they had food, so I would buy a bunch of bananas and pass them out. Some of the kids smiled and skipped off.. and some of them gave me a funny look and held their hand out again saying "rupee!" It was difficult for me to ignore. One girl kept motioning to her mouth, showing that she was hungry, so I bought her some vegetable curry, with flat bread... and she didn't want to take it at first... but she did after she realized she wasn't going to get any rupees for me, and her friends were happy to share with her.

One particular beggar stuck out in my memory: He was an older man who had both of his lower arms amputated, and used the stump of one arm to open up his bag to receive the rupees that I gave him. Can you imagine what your life would be like if you didn't have hands? And then I remembered the video of Nick Vijicic, the inspirational speaker who has no arms, and no legs, and yet is totally happy... and I remembered how everything is a choice... and I chose to have a safe, peaceful journey. It is still difficult to apply that concept to these people who appeared to be suffering so much... did they create their situations? Was it karma that forced them into these circumstances? Whatever the reason, they do have many ways of coping with their circumstances... and one thing I did not see in these people was shame. They are not afraid to ask for what they need. So later that night when I was sleeping, I wasn't afraid to strongly say "Leave me alone!" to the strange man who was sleeping in the bed above me, and kept hanging his head down to stare at me, guessing out loud which country I was from. Even though this was extremely annoying, I could understand his behaviour... if I had never met anyone from another country, I would be a little excited as well. All of this has made me so grateful for the diversity of my life growing up in Chicago. My best friends in my neighborhood were a Puerto Rican family across the alley, and the Yugoslavian couple next door to me felt like my third set of grandparents. India has a lot of diversity, but not much exposure to foreigners, even if you live in one of the big cities. But thank goodness, he listened to me, and I got a decent night sleep. When I woke up, I discovered someone had gone through my backpack (note: locking zippers are a good idea in India) and taken a couple tank tops and short skirts (which is funny because Indian women don't even wear these items!) But I was happy to arrive in Varanasi safe and sound... and then I got bombarded by taxi and rickshaw drivers! I just laughed at the absurdity... and probably paid too many rupees for the ride, but was ready to be in a real bed... and grateful that I chose to have that experience, even if it was on accident.