Zach Gwandu's Training Camp

I moved into the training camp after spending the afternoon in Arusha with Zach. The camp is small and very basic, but comfortable and homey. The camp is really more of a small compound, home to Zach and his family (his wife, 4 children, and 5 orphans),the 14 girls he trains, and 5 families that he rents rooms to. Centered around a courtyard that is used primarily for washing clothes and doing dishes, are the 3 buildings which house each of the close to 50 people who live here. The girls share two rooms, each with 2 sets of bunk beds...that means most girls share a bed so that they can squeeze 7 girls into each room. One of the girls even has a 13 month old daughter who lives here too. I'm staying in one of the rooms with the girls, but am living luxuriously with the bottom bunk all to myself! There is no electricity, and the two toilets and shower stalls (cold water bucket showers in pitch blackness, mind you!) that are shared by all 50 of the people who live here are outside. Once the sun goes down, the lanterns are brought out. Dinner is eaten by candle light, showers are taken with just my puny headlamp to provide light, and going to the bathroom at night is just a big no, no. The kitchen too is outdoors. Cooking is done over a wood or characol fire under a makeshift tin roof. There are 3 small gardens where they grow corn, beans, and a few local vegetables to help cut down on food costs. All of the girls have rotating chores--cooking, cleaning, and laundry. It's a tightly run, close-knit family, each person working together to reach a common goal--to become world class runners. Already 4 of the girls, none over the age of 23, are ranked in the top 50 in the world in various middle distance events. They have managers in Europe and two have modest contracts with Adidas. But its still not enough to keep the electricity on(the government has no system of measuring electricity and so therefore charge households random, arbitrary fees, typically around $200 per month!) or more than just the very basic foods on the table. But Zach has a vision for these girls and for his country,and these girls know that this is their ticket out of poverty.

I admire each of these girls, recruited and subsequently moved from their homes at the age of just 13 or 14 to come train here, over 7 hours away from their villages. Each one has been hand selected by Zach on the basis of natural talent, body structure, and family values. Zach and his wife, Mama Gwandu, struggle each month to ensure the girls and their own children have everything they need, but it's Zach's love for his country, his vision for the future, and his sheer will that really keep this place and Team 100 going. It's an inspiring sight to see 2 former Olympians give up their opportunities for material wealth and comfort in order to produce a better future for these girls.

My morning in Arusha

I connected with Zach last night and he will be picking me up at lunch time today to take me to the training camp...phew! I spent much of the morning sending emails,updating my blog, and walking around Arusha. While in search of the Celtel store (my phone service provider), I met 2 teenage boys who walked with me and patiently helped me practice Swahili. I've never had such a strong desire to learn a language, and already with the help of a phrase book, I'm able to communicate basic things.It's exciting to be able to tell someone what I want,to bargain in the local language, and to respond when someone greets me. I can also now count to 50 which really helps at the market! I spent3months in India, and never learned more than a few words of Hindi. But Swahili is a language that is fun and exciting for me, and one that over the next four months I hope I can get a good handle on. Not that its a useful language to know--spoken only in a handful of East African countries, but is a language for me that is exotic and a pleasure to speak. So, until next time, kwa heri!

Nairboi to Arusha

I happily said goodbye to Nairboi this afternoon, boarding a bus for Arusha, Tanzania. After we got out of the city and its expansive suburbs, the pot-holed streets gave way to smooth tarmac, the dust and exhaust fumes eased into crisp, rain quenched air, and the endless roadside stalls of used clothing, shoes, and furniture eventually disappeared into the great African savannah. The plains stretched out for miles, exotic bushes and trees scattered the landscape,and the distant hills provided a magnificent canvas for the sun's setting rays. As we neared the Tanzanian border, the hills became dynamic mountains, gazelles and impalas sprinted through the tall grasses, and herds of cattle and goats were tended to by their owners donned regally in bright red cloth and intricate beaded jewlerly. After crossing the border, Mount Meru revealed herself. Shrouded in thick clouds, the mightiness of Africa's 3rd tallest peak was diminished, but beautiful all the same.

I arrived at the Impala Hotel expecting to be met by Zach, the founder and head coach of the training camp I'll be staying at.However,my bus was 2 hours late and Zach wasn't there. Without his cell phone number or address, I had noway of contacting him other than sending him an email. The hotel had an internet cafe, which after I sat down at one of the computers I realized charged a minimum fee of $5! Appalled, but with no where else to go, I begrudgingly logged in. I sent a quick email to Zach,then searched for a budget place to spend the night. After scratching down a few hotel names, I caught a taxi into the town center, and ended up at the Arusha Backpacker's Hostel. Unfortunately all of the dorm beds and single rooms were full, so I had to fork over $16 for a double room. Arusha is located at the base of Mt. Meru and within short driving distance to Ngorogoro Crater and Serengeti National Park, and as such, the town is built solely around tourists. This means everything is quoted in US dollars, and as a result, much more expensive. I'm just happy to have a nice hot shower, a soft bed, and free breakfast tomorrow morning!

Kenya's Love of Alcohol

Kenyan's love to enjoy themselves, to laugh, to dance, and to relax. At the root of this enjoyment is alcohol. Streets are lined with small bars, open from before noon until after the sun rises. Men stumble drunk down the streets at all hours and women too an be found pounding back 500mL bottles of Tuskers long after midnight. Mutisya too lives by this cultural dictate, spending every night at local bars with friends who seems to be mostly women. He starts in the early evening and rarely comes home before 5am Not once during my 2 1/2 days here did Mutisya see his wife, Theresia, or 5 year old son, Willy. And only for a few fleeting moments did he interact with his 18 month old son, Jeremiah. Mutisya is an arrogant man who lives his life to his fullest enjoyment even at the expense of his family. He claims to have 3 or 4 girlfriends at only given time, travels to far off places like Brazil, Cancun, and Europe, always alone, while his family goes about their lives in Nairobi. He claims this is normal, this is the Kenyan way. Men and women married, but living separate lives, enjoying the company of other men and women at will. I somehow don't fully believe him. This may be his reality, but I hope its not the norm for the majority of Kenyans. Mutisya's arrogant, cockiness turned me off to him almost immediately, but this morning I learned more about him that scares me even more.
He's not just newly dabbling into politics like he originally claimed, he's right in the middle of it, in the thick of the violence, the corruption, and turmoil. His neighborhood, Eastlands, is where much of the fighting and protests happened after the elections and he was one of the major ringleaders. He's got friends in all corners of Nairobi, and enemies too. The opposition government has tried to poison him several times, gangs were sent to his native village where he was organizing people in violent rallies to spray his car with bullets in attempted murder. Even now he's got security that follows him and friends that watch his every move. Last night we watched coverage of violence erupting on every news channel, "That fighting is just on the next street over," he proudly announced. I sat silently stunned, unable to respond. "Aren't you scared to be in politics?" I later inquired. His response was that "its just all part of the game. It's like dating a woman and then she dumps you. It's just the reality of it." Mutisya expects the fighting and violence to begin again within in the next 4 days as the upcoming election gets closer. "Have you ever seen a person burned alive?" Mutisya asked me as he was driving me into town to catch my bus for Tanzania. "What?!? No, of course not." I replied, disturbed by his question. "If you were staying here longer, you'd probably see a lot of that. It's common in Nairobi." Thank God I'm leaving.

Couchsurfing in Nairobi

Theresia's husband, Mutisya, picked me up from the airport. He's a chatty, sociable guy who runs businesses as diverse as a travel company, a children's home, and stock trading. But his latest venture is politics. During the 20 minute drive from the airport to his home, we stopped 3 times to shake hands with seemingly innocuous people on the street. After a shower, nap, and my first dose of Kenyan cooking (being a vegetarian here is going to be next to impossible!) we met up with Karen, a young family friend and neighbor. I was told that we were going for a tour of the city. Along the way, Mutisya continued his political socializing from the drivers seat--waving at people on the street, his big, over zealous grin plastered beneath his eyes twinkling with the possibility of political victory fame. What I thought was another of his social stops was in fact "a gathering of a few politicians," AKA a political rally. Great, I thought. My parents would kill me if they knew I was here. Within 3 hours of landing in Kenya, I've somehow found myself in the center of a rowdy, rambunctious political rally--the very first place every travel advisory tells you to avoid. But here I am, an obvious outsider among the hundreds of bright orange t-shirts, bandanas, and banners collectively pulsing with excitement, energy, and anticipation.
Nairobi is holding local elections on June 11 and Mama Taa, as she is known among her supporters is running for a post in the senate. Running isn't exactly the right description of the political process here, bribery and corruption is a better fit. Mama Taa is holding a rally to speak to her supporters and to raise money for her campaign fund. But in order to draw a crowd, politicians provide free food and drinks to attendees, and often times, hand out cash as a sort of door prize. In a country where unemployment is rampant, where food and oil prices are soaring, of course people will come out for a free meal and the chance for a little cash. It's African corruption at its finest. But in truth, is it really any different than our own political system? Our politicians wine and dine the rich to get support too...only here its the poor who are bribed and brainwashed with lofty, impossible promises into voting.

Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye was impossibly difficult. During the past 48 hours, Vibhu's voice his embrace, or just an innocent glance would set my chin quivering, my eyes filling with tears. The inevitable was approaching far too quickly, every hour passing faster than the last, each meal a nostalgic reminder of the many happy weeks together. I know now that I was brought to India to meet Vibhu, to learn from him and enjoy time with him, but most of all I was brought to India to fall in love with him. His love form me is pure, genuine, and undiluted, but I wasn't able to fully return his love. I have a journey to finish and until I do that, I cannot love him the way he deserves. So I leave for Kenya with a heavy heart that deeply loves a wonderful man in India, and a heart that longs for selfish adventure and personal growth. Time will help to untangle m confusion and ease the pain of leaving behind someone who loves me more purely that I have even been loved before. So now I sit here, in my surprisingly spacious seat on a Kenyan Airways flight, my eyes heavy, red, and puffy from a day of tears and desperate for sleep, taking off into the night sky to the great continent of Africa, more unsure than ever about my future.

Final Set of India Photos

Here's my final set of photos from India. I've uploaded pictures from Holi (finally!) as well as my trip up to Rishikesh and from my birthday. The photos have been added to my general India photo album, so you'll have to scroll through to find the new ones. I'm off to go celebrate my last night in India with friends, beer, and good food. See you in Kenya!

The Countdown to Africa

I AM GOING TO KENYA IN 4 DAYS!!! It's unreal, it's unbelievable, it's fantastic! I've waited for this for so many years. The tugging on my heart, soul, and entire being by this continent is one that I can remember clearly beginning early one morning, I couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 years old, sitting mesmerized in front of the TV watching naked, skinny, forlorn looking African children, the same age as me, climbing through piles of trash, sleeping on the streets, begging for food. I knew watching that infomercial that there was something much too familiar, much too close to my heart, that somehow I belonged there. That bond, the closeness that I felt that day has guided me to where I am now, and although I've beem tp Africa before, this is the trip that my soul has been waiting for. I don't know what to expect when I get there, and for once, the unknown is fascinating and liberating.

India's Caste System in a Modern World

Nearly all of India's 1.1 billion people are part of the caste system. Although integral to the Hindu belief, it also encompasses non-Hindus and very often dictates a persons life. This system of social hierarchy divides Indians into 4 castes, the the Brahmins (teachers, scholars and priests), the Kshatriyas (kings and warriors), the Vaishyas (traders), and Shudras (agriculturists, service providers, and some artisan groups). These four castes are further divided into thousands of sub-castes based on family names.Surnames classify your status in society, especially in rural areas where the caste system is especially rigid and pervasive. But even in places like Chennai, Delhi, and Mumbai, the first question asked upon introduction is often one of caste inquiry, "What is your family name?" It seems to me this is a way to pass judgment on strangers to classify yourself against others in a centuries-old heirarchy, a way to make assumptions about a person based solely on the generalizations of their social ranking. The caste system penetrates nearly all aspects of life in India, from where you work, to where you live, to your entrance into universities, to the person you marry. My understanding is that it is nearly impossible to marry into a higher caste, and marrying down can bring great shame and dishonor to your family. The caste system continues to bring about discrimination (although caste discrimination was officially outlawed by the Indian constitution) as stories in local papers frequently relay such atrocities as low-caste people being denied access to water from public wells, or being harassed and physically harmed for simply walking in high-caste neighborhoods. The blatant discrimination mirrors the social issues the US has had throughout our history and what we as a nation continue to struggle with today--the racial tensions, discrimination, and injustice towards African-Americans especially, but also towards the Chinese, Mexicans, and to nearly every other ethnic group that has immigrated to the US from poor, developing countries. India has followed the lead of the US in implementing affirmative action policies, a genuine concept that in practice has many unintended harms. India is now facing the same issues of reverse discrimination, of unwanted, unfair treatment, and of bafflingly difficult questions of how to improve the system to make education and job opportunities open, fair and equal for all. I hope Indians can do a better job than we have managed for ourselves.

So much of India's past remains discernible today despite the astonishing pace of change since independence in 1947. It's free market reforms of the 1990's have created one of the most capitalistic countries on earth. Combine that with a caste system which in large part defines who you are based on your material possessions, and you've got one of the most consumeristic nations on the planet. It's a bizarre mix of traditions and culture as old as the rivers that crisscross this giant country and of high-tech, innovative technologies that fuel the sprint towards westernization. It's a place that as an outsider I will never truly understand, but India is a place that has changed the way I see the world.

Rambling Thoughts for the Day

There has been a definite change in the weather over the past few days in Mumbai. Dark clouds have been gathering, winds have been dancing through the streets, and an anticipatory excitement has filled the voices of locals. The sky is the bluest blue I ever seen here, the stagnant, energy draining heat has cooled, and there is a feeling that the worst days of summer are just about over. Newspapers are filled with articles relaying information to citizens about high tides, evacuation plans, and other disaster preparedness necessities. The monsoons bring months of constant rain to a parched country, turning the dull landscape into one of vibrant greens and blues, quenching the soils with much needed rain. But in cities like Mumbai and Delhi, where overpopulation and poor planning have people living on top of each other, in buildings that adhere to no modern building codes, and on streets with improper drainage, the possibility of life-threatening floods is an all too real reality. The weather forecasters don't anticipate the monsoons to begin until June 10, and say that this shift in the weather is just fickle pre-monsoon weather patterns, but whatever it is, I'm just happy that rain is in the forecast!

Happy Birthday Vibhu! Today is Vibhu's 27th birthday and we've been celebrating in typical Dona fashion--with lots of good food! We started off the morning with mango pancakes, pomegranate, banana, mango, and mint fruit salad, and big, piping hot cups of sweet Indian chai. Lunch followed a few hours later, a stir-fry made from the random assortment of vegetables that were beginning to wilt in the fridge. But Vibhu had never had stir-fry before and I think it was a hit! Lunch was topped off with homemade Kulfi, Indian icecream that Vibhu taught me how to make a few days ago. And soon, we're going to dinner at a restaurant that is supposed to be one of the best in Mumbai, best known for it's lavishly decorated jungle-themed interior. Since we don't have an oven, I had to improvise on the traditional birthday cake, so this afternoon I made coconut sticky rice which we'll enjoy topped with fresh mangoes and trick birthday candles :) after dinner.

The plans for the birthday party have unfortunately fallen through. Turns out having some fun with needy kids is much more difficult than I could have expected.

Well, I think that's it for today. I'm planning to upload some photos tomorrow, so be on the look out for those soon. Thanks for all of the early birthday wishes!

Back in Mumabi

I love being back in Mumbai and getting to just laze around the house all day--wake up late, breakfast, shower, read, internet cafe, cook lunch, nap, read , afternoon chai, shower, cook dinner, meet up with friends in town, sleep--REPEAT! It's the perfect way to spend a week. Rest, relaxation, good food, and great company.

Vibhu brought me so much food back from Germnay, I'm in food heaven! Fresh European bread, loaded with nuts, seeds, and oats, 2 jars of peanut butter, homemade blueberry jam, chocolates, Haribo candies, and some of the best granola I've ever had. It makes me miss home just that much more!

Ok, so I know you guys are dying to know what is going on between Vibhu and me, and I haven't been very good about offering up many details. But what I can tell you is that, yes I do love him. But I am confused about his role in my life. I can't honestly say that I have confidence that we are meant to be together. I have an overwhelming feeling that something life defining will happen for me in Africa. This trip has always been about making it to Africa to do something, be it work, explore, or to learn something more about myself. Whatever it may be, Africa is the pinnacle of this year long journey for me, and until I go there I know that I cannot make any big life decisions. Vibhu has opened my heart to love again. My heart that had been shattered by love almost a year ago, has now come full circle in the healing process. Everyday my life is filled with more happiness, joy, and love, and I have Vibhu to thank for loving me the way every person deserves to be loved and for helping me to finally understanding the importance of never settling for second best.

My Afternoon in Delhi

I just arrived in New Delhi after an 8 hour bus ride from Rishikesh. After finding my way to the railway station via directions from strangers, a bus, and then finally on overpriced rickshaw, I headed straight for the Foreign Ticket Counter. "I'd like to go to Mumbai tonight." I told the man behind the counter. "Impossible." He replied, never taking his eyes off the computer screen. Having checked tickets online, I knew full well that seats were available on today's trains, and I wasn't about to let this grouch of a man make me stay in Delhi overnight. Pushing him, hounding him, arguing with him, finally, miraculously he found a seat for me. Normally this kind of thing doesn't bother me, but having only eaten a few bits of coconut and a few spoonfuls of peanut butter in over 24 hours, I was not exactly in the most chipper of moods. After a few annoyed and disgruntled looks, the man handed me my ticket. I gave him the sappiest smile and the cheekiest "Thank You!" I could muster. What a world away I am already from the peaceful bliss of the ashram.

I have only ever heard negative things about Delhi--it's hot, it's way over populated, it's dangerous, touts scam you, people are mean and aggressive--and with what little time I've spent here, I'd have to agree. The rickshaw driver's charge 4 times the price you'd have to pay in Mumbai, people lie just to get a few extra rupees out of you, children set up scams to try to steal your money. It's a vicious city, every many for himself.

I'm sitting in a Refreshment Room at the train station and in typical Indian fashion, the items I tried to order were unavailable. Thali? No. Sandwich? No. Rice and Dal? No. "Ok, what do you have?" I inquired, humorously annoyed. Omelets only. Everything else is finished. "Fine, an omelet will be fine." I found a seat towards the back of the nearly empty canteen and refilled my water bottle with the jug of water that sat of my table. Parched, I gulped down half a litre of water before letting out a relieved, quenched sigh. A few moments later, one of the staff came by my table to wipe it down with a wet cloth as he made his rounds cleaning up the messes left by previous customers. After satisfactorily wiping down my table, he squeezed the dirty contents from his rag into the jug I had just enjoyed water from. Wow, I thought to myself. That wasn't drinking water. I just drank the collective dirt, waste, and leftovers from the restaurant's tables. Awesome.

Today's Events

Today has been an interesting day.
1. A wild rain storm raged outside early this morning, angering the old wooden shutters in my room as were knocked around in the wind. I lay sweating in my bed, slapping away the mosquitoes who feasted on my arms, taking refuge from the wind and rain in my stuffy room. As the sun came up, I inspected my arms to find a mountain range of bites. Examining my face with my finger tips, I found 3 bites on my forehead, and a painful lump just under my lower lip.

2. During the morning meditation and then the subsequent yoga class, my mind was racing in a million directions at once, wildly skipping from one thought to the next as I began planning my trip to Africa and then home. Those three hours absolutely dragged on, as my body wanted to do anything but sit still and my mind was sprinting a marathon.

3. There's an hour of down time between the yoga class and the morning lecture, and typically I use this time to drink a chai and read the newspaper. This morning was no different except that my excited, almost hyper hand knocked the chai over just moments after it was served, spilling nearly the entire cup of searing hot liquid in my lap. The splash of liquid was so incredibly hot that I couldn't scream, I couldn't talk, I couldn't think, focusing only on the absolute pain that was ripping into my lower abdomen and thighs. My mind screamed, my eyes cried dry tears, as an overwhelming sensation to pee my pants overcame me. It took all the willpower I had not to further wet myself. The restaurant owner brought me another chai (I managed to drink this one!) and a lifetime supply of napkins to clean myself up.

4. After a great lecture about reincarnation, I spent the uneventful afternoon gorging myself with fresh coconut and mangoes, followed by a food and heat induced nap, and a few hours of reading. Current book? A Long Way Gone. A story of a boy soldier from Sierra Leone and his escape to the US. Not exactly the most uplifting text to be reading in an ashram, but still worth reading every word.

5. The evening yoga class was tough, sweaty, and invigorating. Sweat poured down my chest and rolled down my forehead and neck in an endless stream. This is the only time I can ever recall my sweat not tasting salty. Ok, don't get the wrong idea, I don't regularly go licking sweat from my skin, but we all know, sweat is salty. When you're sweating as much as I was today, a little inevitably finds its way onto your lips, and I was really surprised when I licked my lips and what I got tasted more like warm water than sweat. Maybe I need more salt in my diet.

6. After washing away my salt-less sweat covered body, I went down to the internet cafe. I opened my email to read an email from Vibhu saying that he's coming home early from Europe and will be arriving in Mumbai on Sunday. Shocked, ecstatic, concerned, a rush of thoughts bombarded my mind, as a feeling of sheer joy filled my body. Vibhu's birthday is the day before mine, and instead of having a party with our friends, we had planned to throw a big party for the kids who live in the slum behind his house. But unfortunately, we didn't have time to do much planning before he left, so the idea sort of fizzled out, knowing that upon his return there wouldn't be enough time to complete all the planning and preparations. But now, we have a whole extra week! So I'm going to stay at the ashram until Thursday or Friday and then head back to Mumbai via Delhi. The mountains will just have to wait until my next trip to India, I've got a birthday bash to plan!

Reincarnation

Today's lecture provided the answers to so many unanswered questions I had regarding reincarnation. The rebirth of our souls, over and over again, is something I have always believed in and accepted as a fundamental truth. Despite never having studied this or really knowing much of anything about it, it's just something that has always made perfect sense to me. The past two days our teacher has been discussing the three worlds and bodies, the physical, the astral, and the causal. We inhabit the physical world and our physical bodies, but upon death, our souls, which are encapsulated in our physical, astral, and causal bodies, move on to the astral world. The astral world is almost exactly the same as the physical world, but instead of being made of physical elements (earth, fire, water, air, and space) the astral world is comprised of energy and light. When our physical body dies, our astral body takes on the form of our physical body at its best (typically this is when we are between the ages of 25-30). In the astral world, things are generally pleasant and life is easy. But because of this, the spiritual development of our souls is greatly slowed down, and most astral beings want to get back down to the physical world to quicken our spiritual development.

At the moment of conception in a woman's womb, there is fierce competition in the astral world to enter the body of the new embryo. However, it is only the soul with the closest karmic match to the mother that will get to inhabit this new physical being. Thus, the purer the soul of the mother, the purer the soul of her child. And thus, a soul is reincarnated into a new life. In the Hindu tradition, it is thought that a typical soul goes through this process of reincarnation for an average of 1 million years, before it is released from the cycle of reincarnation. So don't worry, if you haven't got things right in this life, you have plenty more to try to set things straight!

Ayudveric Medicine

The other day I had a consultation with an Ayudveric doctor, who just by feeling my pulse was able to tell a lot about me. To start, according to this science, we are all born with a predetermined tri-dosha, made up of Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. Each of us have a combination of these three elements with a predominant tendency towards one. My dominant element is Pitta, or the fire element. The doctor told me that while my Pitta and Kapha are strong, my Vata is really weak (I'm still not entirely clear what this means or how to fix it). After just a light touch to my wrist, the doctor questioned my liver health, suspected problems with my menstral cycle, and was convinced I struggled with lower back, knee, and chronic stomach pains, as well as a general lack of energy. He couldn't have read me any better than that. He recommended a few tablets which would help to clear all of these issues up, and curious of their effectiveness, I decided to give it a shot. Now I don't want to jump to any conclusions so quickly, or be that person who blindly believes everything I'm told, but this morning I woke up at 4:45am with an amazing amount of energy and haven't felt a single pange of discomfort in my stomach for a few days. It could be all of the meditation and yoga too, or most likely a combination of all three, but either way, physically I am feeling great! This stuff is pretty awesome!

Another day in Rishikesh

This morning's meditation, yoga, and lectures were all really good. I love how relaxed and energized I feel after the meditation and yoga, and despite the soreness in my muscles, I love the sense of accomplishment that it brings. I was awakened early this morning to the sounds and smell of fresh rain fall, and by sunrise a cool breeze fluttered through the courtyards of the ashram bringing with it a perfectly refreshing start to the week. But by mid-day. the sun had moved out from behind the clouds, and a hot, humid heat gripped to everything in its sight. The holy men, or Babas, who line the streets of Rishikesh have begun to recognize me, and the boys at my favorite restaurant bring me a chai without me even having to order. It's a good feeling when you start to blend into a community. I've only been here 4 days, but somehow I've already become a familiar face.

I've decided however, that tomorrow I am going to leave the ashram and Rishikesh to make my way up to Dharamsala, a tiny village that is home to the largest Tibetan community outside of Tibet. Dharamsala has also been the Dalai Lama's home since his exile from Tibet int eh 1980's. But before Dharamsala, I'll stop over in Chandigarh for a day, where I'll stay with a family I connected with through couchsurfing. Chandigarh is supposed to be India's best planned city, complete with tree-lined streets laid out in a logical grid design. I'm looking forward to the massive lassi's that Punjab is famous for and the Tibetan food (noodle soup, chocolate balls, and momos!!)in Dharamsala. Of course, the beautiful Himalayan scenery will be a big plus too!

Rambling thoughts for the day...

I didn't take well to life at the ashram at first. But slowly, gradually, I am finding my way, and beginning to settle into the daily routine of mediation and yoga. I wake up in anticipatory excitement for the morning meditation and to listen to the teachings of the ashram's guru. My body has aclimated to the heat, and while I was hoping that coming to Rishikesh would provide respite from the muggy heat of Mumbai, the constant, albeit warm breeze that flows off the Ganges provides at least some relief. Having only negative experiences with yoga prior to this, I was skeptical of my ability to enjoy the benefits of the ancient practice, but I have come to appreciate its calming and energizing effects. Forging friendships hasn't come easy here, as many have taken vows of silence, however there is enough stimulation along the tiny strip of restaurants, shops, and temples to provide many hours of fascinating people watching.

Thanks to everyone for the words of encouragement and positive thoughts during the difficult times of sadness, loneliness, and soul searching. I find such comfort in knowing how many people check up on me daily, who keep me in their prayers, and who love me unconditionally. Despite how far I am from home, I feel like I have grown closer to the people who I love and care about, and I so look forward to seeing each and every one of you when I return home...whenever that may be.

I feel a little more lost everyday...

My little clay room nearly suffocated me last night. Despite the cool breeze outside, the heat of the day had absorbed into the walls and created a human-sized tandoori oven. I poured water on myself, turned the fan up until it swung precariously from the ceiling, tossed and turned. Mosquitoes nibbled at any exposed skin and my mind wouldn't settle. It was a long, uncomfortable night that I don't look forward to experiencing again.

Once again, I find myself with feelings of loneliness. Going through the motions of travel, searching for an authentic experience, but unable to shake this feeling of emptiness. I thought yoga and meditation would help me to re-center myself, but I'm not enjoying these practices as much as I thought I would. I miss Vibhu terribly and have realized how much of my heart I have given to him. I want so desperately to be with him again, but know that the next time I see him will be just that much closer to my final departure from India on May 26. Despite my attempts to fight it, I've fallen in love in India and that's put a big, huge wrench in my plans, and has created feelings of doubt, confusion, and uncertainty.

My heart and soul have always yearned and loved Africa, and there's nothing about that that has changed. I know there is something there for me to experience, to learn, to accomplish, but leaving India is seeming to get harder and harder, while at the same time, my desire to be back at home intensifies daily also. I won't feel like I've completed this journey until I've made it to Africa, but everyday I feel more and more ready to go home. I know that I can't stay in India, that Africa is calling me, and that my spirit is ready to be back at home. I feel pulled in 3 different directions and its making me feel a little more lost everyday.

Staying at an Ashram

Early this morning I moved from my guest house to an ashram on the opposite bank of the Ganges. The ashram, The International Vishwaguru Meditation and Yoga Institute, has 200 basic rooms, but because its the middle of summer only a handful are booked. For just 100 rupees per day, i get my own room, 2 yoga classes, 2 meditation sessions, and a daily lecture on such topics as yoga, meditation, Hindu beliefs, etc., from the ashram's guru. It is a very warm and welcoming community of people from Japan to Austria to Brazil. The ashram's guru is well known throughout India and while I know very little about his specific teachings, his melodious, cooing voice kept me enchanted during his 90 minute lecture about finding your inner-self and the importance of knowing your true self before searching for happiness in the external world. One of my favorite things he said today was if you give crumpled things, you will get crumpled things in return. By no means a brilliant or even unique lesson, but one that, for one reason or another resonated with me today. In essence, its the basic law of karma.

I had planned to attend the evening yoga session, but got to talking with Kristina, a girl from Austria who's now in her fourth stay at the ashram. This time she is going through a Panchakarma treatment, an Ayurveda detoxification. The more we talked, the more I wanted to know and soon I'd picked up a book on Ayurvedic Medicine and devoured half the book within a few hours. This 5000 year old concept of science and medicine makes perfect sense to me and is a science that western medicine could stand to learn a thing or two from. I've still got diarrhea like I've never experienced before and tomorrow I'm going to talk to one of the local Ayurvedic doctors about possible treatments. I can't continue to be chained to the toilet all day! :)

From Mumbai to Delhi to Rishikesh

The train ride last night was great! I sat next to a family from Mauritius, who on their way to the airport to catch a flight home, had their passports stolen and so had to make the trip up to Delhi to visit their embassy. What luck, right? When I first boarded the train I was presented with a fresh towel, a tray of snacks, a chilled bottle of water, and of course, chai. Settling into my air-conditioned berth I read and listened to music until it was time for dinner. The palak paneer, rotis, rice, dal, yogurt, and salad that was served provided way too much food for a single sitting, so having thought ahead, I packed the rice and dal away in a tupperware container I'd brought from Vibhu's to save for the next day's lunch. Dinner was followed by strawberry ice cream and another round of chai. By 10pm I'd cozied myself in for the night with the pillow, sheet, and blanket provided by the friendly train staff. I quickly drifted off to sleep and was roused only by the smell of breakfast wafting through the train. Hot omelets, fresh croissants, fruit, juice and chai were served. A few more hours of reading and chatting with my neighbors and by 11am we'd arrived in Delhi.

Stepping off the air-conditioned train, I was overwhelmed by the heat. My mouth instantly parched and my eyes burned in the assault of hot wind. Those first few moments in Delhi's train station, overcome by the heat and chaos of touts desperately vying for my business, completely obliterated any thought I'd had about staying in that city for more than a few hours. I hired an autorickshaw to take me across town to the Interstate Bus Terminal where I caught a bus up to Rishikesh.

The bus ride was a long and hot 7 hours of downing litre after litre of water, loving and hating the hot stream of air that pounded my face, staring out the window admiring the will and determination of the millions of people who's lives are dictated by the ebb and flow of the streets, and an increasing agitation with the bus driver who's love of his horn made me want to wrap my fingers around his leathery neck or at least give him a good slap across the back of his head.

Sweaty, stinky, and tired, I was desperate to get off the bus. Exhaustion had made me grouchy and the gurgling in my stomach told me that I needed to find a bathroom, fast. We eventually stopped for a break at a government sponsored rest stop, which surprisingly even had decently clean toilets. After taking care of business, I stood to pull up my pants when something fell from the sky and hit me on the head. Turing around, bewildered at what could have possibly fallen on my head in an enclosed bathroom, a used, bloody pad appeared on the floor. Disgusted, I examined the walls around me to find a small opening near the ceiling which I assume opened into the next stall over. Sick, sick, sick, was all I could muster to think as a look of utter disbelief filled the contours of my face. Shocked, I ran out of the bathroom, never looking back to see who the woman was who chucked a pad at me. I doubt the action was intentional, but intent aside, please ladies dispose of those items properly! But I am in India, and 'properly' is a very subjective term.

I eventually arrived in Rishikesh at a seemingly deserted bus station albeit the lone richshaw driver or two looking to scam the next arriving tourist. After haggling ruthlessly for an elevated, but fair price to take me to the center of town. I was dropped in the touristy part of town, and ashram after ashram lined the streets. With only a sprinkling of guest houses among the ashrams, my choice of accomodations was minimal, but after a 45-minute search for a reasonably priced room, I went back to the very first guesthouse I had inquired at. 270 rupees was way more than I had wanted to pay, but the cheapest I could find. I unpacked, showered, and immediately fell asleep.