19 February, 2009

The Whole World Whispers

I thought my life of normalcy was boring me...

so I floored it over foreign seas, exchanged a little currency, now here I am in old Hampi...

But now I'm swerving in uncertainty, cause personally...

I kind of miss my family tree. But oh my GOD look at that banyan tree! I think I heard it speak to me.

"My twisted roots are all stories; my humble, outdoor history. But this is not just my story, please continue, Zachary!"

Thank you tree. Your primordial telepathy inspires me, but oh GOD, there's a bug crawling on the back of me!

...

So what's this life in front of me? Is backpacking my destiny, or is it just a test for me?

Is all the rest infinity..?

17 February, 2009

Princess of Hill Stations

The coast of South India was getting too hot and sweaty (90 degrees, all day everyday) for us, so a few days ago, Shira and I took yet another overnight bus to Kodaikanal, a former hill station, 2100 meters up, on the border of Kerala and Tamil Nadu. The days are cool (60-70) and sunny, while the nights have forced us to put on long undies and climb into sleeping bags.

We're staying at a quaint and really pretty hostel built into the side of a hill, so when we look out the window of our room, we see miles of misty, mini-mountains and valleys. I love the feel of the place and we're thinking we'd like to settle here for about a week.

After another amazingly delicious Indian dinner (vegetable makhani, rice, protha) last night, Shira and I walked back to the hostel to hang out with some of the other travelers staying with us. The whole night felt so complete and bizarre that I kind of mistook it for a dream. There was the goofy and loving middle aged English woman traveling with her goofy and loving son. Then there was the local trekking guide who openly talked about how he likes to hug and converse with trees for 40 minutes at a time. Then there were the dozen Tamil men, ranging in age from 20-60, who were stopped at our hostel for the night, on their way to their friend's father's funeral the next day...I shouldn't forget about the Israeli physicist who happily told me about the diarrhea he had in the Indian Himalayas.

Kodaikanal is really different (but still similar) to the other places we've been in that it was actually settled in the mid-1800's by Americans who started a private school which is still an anchor of the town today. Apparently the Kodaikanal International School is the most prestigious private school in the country, and it attracts richies and smarties from around the world. Walking near the campus feels like the area in and around Cranbrook in Bloomfield Hills, which is both strange and comforting for sure.

If we stay here for a week or so, that means we'll only have a few days left in India, before flying north into Nepal where we'll be for 5 weeks. There we'll spend the majority of our time trekking through the Himalayas on the Annapurna Circuit. My radio friend, Laura has spent many months at a time in Nepal and has set us up with her dear and trusted friend Prem, who will likely be our guide for at least part of our trek.

If you're curious about what the Annapurna experience might sound like, I wholeheartedly encourage you to step back from your day for 30-minutes, put on some headphones, and listen to this. It's what attracted me to Nepal in the first place.

Loose Ends...

We didn't end up going to hug the mother at the Hugging Mother Ashram. We were ready to get out of Alleppey after having spent a tranquil, beautiful, but ultimately over-priced day and night on our own houseboat, floating along the amazing Keralan backwaters.

09 February, 2009

The Hugging Mother

We've been in the southern state of Kerala, in the Wayanad District, since we left Hampi on Friday. Kerala has been unique for us in that the people are fantascically friendly and gentle. Like yesterday, as we scaled a mini-mountain on top of the Eddakal Caves, masses of locals greeted us with their pleasentries and proud attempts at english.

Hahlo...Whed you from...what is yord good name sir...how ahd you...

Sometimes small groups would spontaneously look at us and exclaim...OBAMA! Shira especially loved this, and at one point when we were seperated, I looked over my shoulder to see her and a group of young men clapping and dancing for Obama. After telling this same group that she's planning on becoming a doctor, they started calling her Dr. Shira...

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Food...


I don't why I failed to predict that we'd be doing this while in India, but we've been eating Indian food for pretty much every meal since getting here. At home, makhani, samosa, aloo gobi, pakora, kingfisher, palak paneer, are special (and expensive) treats, but here, they're cheap, and now for us standard. We even eat Indian breakfasts in the mornings. Like this morning we had chai tea (not like the chai we drink at home. The Indian version is majority milk and sugar and delicious), and a dosa masala, which is essenctially a big, flat pancake filled with onions, potatoes, and masala spices.

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This evening we'll board another bus, this time heading further south into Kerala to a town called Alleppey. We'll likely stay for a week, maybe two. We also plan on going to our first Ashram of the trip. This one seems cool beacuse the guru there is a young woman, Matha Amrithanandamayi, better known as The Hugging Mother (because this is how she blesses people, sometimes holding all night hug/bless sessions)!

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01 February, 2009

Gopi

Our last few days in Arambol, Goa were action packed and restful at the same time. Shira went paragliding off a cliff with a trained Ukrainian jumper! We hiked through the woods to a river where I covered myself in therapeutic mud, then we made our way to a mythic banyan tree that's said to have special powers. We sat in front of the tree, around a fire, with other tourists, and a mystic from Sweden who lives there, keeping the spirit alive. We left Goa feeling good that we stayed for longer than we originally planned, but also feeling like most of what surrounded us in Goa was there for tourists, so we left.

We've been in Hampi since Shabbat, and, unfortunately a lot of our time so far has been spent taking it very easy as Shira has been having really painful stomach aches and bouts of nausea. Worry not though, she's starting to feel a lot better and more like herself. We were blessed and lucky enough to have found an incredible place to stay here with an extremely caring and dedicated staff.

To get here we rode a "sleeper" bus 12-hours through the night from Goa. We heard the ride, with all the bumps and wind and noise was going to be treacherous, but luckily we slept for most of it, side by side, in beds (seats that reclined almost parallel to the ground). We pulled up to the bus station at around 10 a.m. and were instantly swarmed by young Indian men with promises of cheap guesthouse and cheap auto rickshaw. One of the salesman was wearing ear muffs in the 75 degree morning sun.

We had heard from our friend in Goa about a place to stay, "on the other side of the river" that sounded amazing and tranquil, but we didn't have directions so we figured we'd just find someplace else. Luckily though, as soon as we crossed the river we saw a sign for the place, "Whispering Rocks," and hired an auto rickshaw to take us there. We were soon headed out and away from the hustle bustle of touristville and towards an area that's is profoundly gorgeous and serene and mainly untouched by development.

On the way to our new digs we passed woman working and wading in the many rice paddy fields that make up the region, we saw grown men wearing dress shirts and traditional skirts as they rode their bikes down dirt roads, and there were roosters, and calves, and buffalo doing their own thing too. All this unfolding in front of us within a landscape covered in boulders and blue sky, and wooden shacks and not much else.

Whispering Rocks is not a guesthouse, or a hostel, per se. It's more like it's own little resort that, for the last few days, has only been open to Shira and I. There are about 10 little one room tepees, and 3 self-standing mini-houses, one of which is built into a cave. The whole layout sits inside a bouldered valley, with a lake on the other side of the rocks. We were amazed as we first saw the place and thought it might be out of our financial league. Again, Shira gritted her teeth and negotiated one of the mini-houses for 350 rupees a night (about 7 bucz). We seemed to have found ourselves in heaven, really. Then as the sun went dowm that first night, we learned that heaven involves many many creatures, namely mosquitoes, all up in our business. We deeted the hell out of ourselves, and lit a mosquito coil and soon adjusted to the swarms of them (Shira much better than me). At sunset we also witnessed a big family of black faced monkeys jumping infront of our house, from one set of boulders to the next.

Whispering Rocks is ran by a 50-something Muslim, 30-something Christian, and 50-something Hindu chef. When Shira got sick, they treated her almost like a daughter as they asked about her bowel movement variations and called her a doctor. Ah yes, they also helped secure a moped for us for the week that we've been riding into town to make phone calls and use internet.

We love you and miss you.