Final Thoughts

India is an assault on the senses in every way imaginable and we will never be the same.

It is dirty and a drab brown punctuated with the most colourful saris I've ever seen.

It is ugly and beautiful.

It is crushingly disheartening and delightfully uplifting.

It is the most spiritual and the most material place I've ever been.

It contains the poorest of the poor and the richest of the rich within the same square metre.

It has no separation of urban and rural.

It gives and it takes.

It has cricket played in every spare lot in the manner you would see road hockey in Canada.

It has everything you could possibly conceive in a lifetime thrown together in one giant cosmic blender.

It creates an extreme appreciation for what we have... the alignment of karmic and cosmic influences that gave us the life, the bodies, the brains, the opportunities we've had just to have been born in Canada... do you realize how lucky you are?

Some final deep thoughts....

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we might even become friends. Maya Angelou

Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living. Miriam Beard

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.
George Moore

There's no place like home.
Dorothy

We're flying so high.... (Dec 19)

Our first flight from Delhi to Milan we had personal video screens. How cool! I was tired as heck but I started watching a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory anyway. I was like a kid who just refuses to acknowledge that I was tired and should go to sleep. That is until I started to fall asleep, no matter how much I tried to stay awake. Luckily, with the personal video, I could pause it until I woke up later!

Brad managed to find and empty row of seats and stretched himself out to sleep (way easier than sleeping sitting up I might add).

We landed without incident in Milan to hang out and wait for flight number two that would take us home. We landed just as the sun was rising - it was a beautiful sunrise.

As much difficulty we had in finding stable internet connections in India, we were really surprised that we could get absolutely no connection in the airport in Milan. Crazy man!

In Milan we felt a bit of culture shock again. We were moving from the 'wear whatever, do whatever' world of India to the high fashion land of Milan. There's a Ferrari store and you can buy Tiffany diamonds in the airport for God's sake! We did treat ourselves to ice cream and panini and dark chocolate however.

The Milan airport, rather like Toronto, isn't quite set up with all its gates yet. We took a bus through a very large parking lot of airplanes to our plane. One more flight, one more bad inflight movie (Monster-in-Law) and we were home before we knew it.

Huge, giant thank you's to Shawna for picking up our tired, luggage delayed, sorry asses at the airport!

Don't Want to Say Goodbye (Dec 17 - 18)

I have to say it again... what a great bed! We had an excellent nap and I just relaxed for the rest of the afternoon.



Brad headed out to check out the Indian Rail Museum (and pick up some mementos for my dad). He noticed that even though the Hyatt is quite luxurious within the compound, it's interesting that right outside the gates is a shanty town of tents. The Hyatt is quite expensive for India. We were paying 10 to 30 rupees per hour for internet cafes, in the hotel it costs 500 rupees per hour! I think that's just a tad outrageous!

After two months of relative roughing it across India, the Hyatt is wonderful and complete luxury but, at the same time, you feel like you're slamming head on into "high maintenance" without your Gucci bag and eyelash curler! Maybe it's reverse culture shock?

We headed down into the hotel for dinner and treated ourselves to Japanese. Dinner was excellent and our cook was quite attentive and entertaining. We had two women at our table, one of which was wearing the biggest rock on her finger that I'd ever seen in real life. They were demanding and rude and continually telling the cook how to do this and that. At one point he asked us if we were in a hurry (we were there first) because he wanted to serve them and get them out of the way. We said, no... we're Canadian!

We arranged for a late checkout with the front desk and, after a wonderful sleep, headed out into Delhi to find a reasonable internet cafe.
Blogging, packing, eating... we were definitely winding down... we're really going home... say it isn't so!!

After dinner we took a cab to the airport. Our flight doesn't leave until 2:30 am but sitting around here or there is still sitting around so we headed out around 9 pm or so. Our cab driver was Punjabi and quite friendly. He has two children that he has placed in private school because they are getting a better education. He felt we had generated good fortune by our visit to the Golden Temple, simply by visiting!

You know, I don't think I've ever encountered a single airport that was designed to be really helpful for travelers. The designers can't see the flaws because they are too close to it (or maybe they don't really care). The India airport - there is no Alitalia counter. We discerned that many of the airlines don't actually have permanent counter space, they just pop into one or two a couple of hours before their flight. Makes sense. Save space. But, for international travelers who are not aware, it's a bit confusing. We asked three different people where the desk was and got three different answers. Also, you have to have your bags xrayed and tie wrapped before checking in. This is also something that you just have to figure out by paying attention to what other people are doing. Ah well, I guess it's a good thing we were there so early!

Security is pretty tight at the airport. You can't even enter the terminal if you don't have a ticket. There are soldiers at every entrance checking tickets and passports against a "no fly" list. Serious business!

When the Alitalia counter opens we check in. Our attendant is a trainee so it takes a bit longer but (maybe because she is a trainee) we manage to get our requested exit aisle on both flight segments. Bonus!

We go to the gate and wait... again.

TVC (definitely NOT the TVG) (Dec 16 - 17)

The last day (Friday) I was not feeling well and opted to stay in bed. Brad attended the teachings in the morning. The afternoon was a question and answer session for the Korean and Japanese students only. Brad said the Dalai spoke of altruism, wisdom and compassion. In the end, we did not find answers to the "Great Questions", just more questions. Somehow that's ok... since life lives in the questions.

We checked out of the Hotel Tibet and left our bags with reception. Our bus leaves at 6 pm so we've got plenty of time to grab a bite to eat and have a last walk around.

We walked down past the taxi stand with our bags (which seem to have been reproducing over the last 2 months as we now have an additional bag we didn't start out with!) There was a long line of buses and taxis and there were plenty of people everywhere. It seemed like the whole village was leaving tonight, all at the same time! We checked the bus number on our ticket and located, what we figured was our bus. There was an official looking gentleman standing at the back where they were loading the bags and he confirmed for us, this was the bus! We loaded our bags in and climbed aboard. This was, by far, the most luxurious bus we'd been on while in India! The seats were nice bucket style and leaned back, there were individual lights and even a sound system. This was going to be great (or so we thought). We found our seats and settled in. The bus ride to Delhi is 12 hours.

The bus filled up quite quickly and we seemed to be the only non-Tibetans on board. There was a great deal of commotion and loading and crashing about while they all climbed on board. The official looking man was on board arguing with a Tibetan man and woman. We're not sure what they heck was going on but it seemed that they had more people than seats purchased. I guess they figured they didn't have to buy seats for the 3 kids? Who knows! Eventually it seemed that it got resolved because everyone was sitting and we started moving.

The shocks on this bus are outstanding! The ride is so smooth, even on the crazy, pothole infested, windy mountain roads. Of course, my thinking that this ride was going to be smooth sailing was quickly dashed. The Tibetans are the most hardy people you could imagine. They walked across mountain ranges for days to escape Tibet carrying everything they owned and braving harsh conditions... but don't ask them to take a 12 hour bus ride. Apparently, motion sickness is not something that toughness can make you immune to.

There were 35 or so Tibetans on our bus.

We were the only ones who were not sick.

Shortly after we departed, I started to notice some noise and activity going on. People were throwing up out the windows... into plastic bags... into plastic containers... pretty much every single person on the bus was vomiting, except us. It got so bad that I had to grab my headphones, turn up the music really loud and open the window for fresh air (but not too much... you didn't want any backsplash!) We were riding the TVC (Tibetan Vomit Comet).

We stopped at a roadside rest area and I looked at my watch. It was only 9:30!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! It had to have been longer than 3 hours! We still had another 9 hours to go - if I only had gravol, I would have passed it out in spades.

You had to feel bad for them really. They looked like they wished they were dead. All we had to contend with was some discomfort, they were feeling awful. At one rest stop later in the evening, one of the bus attendants tried to wash down the sides of the bus (the bus had started out white). It was pretty bad.

Eventually, we all got some sleep. The bus dropped all the Tibetans just on the outskirts of Delhi at the Tibetan settlement and we were alone. We continued on into Delhi and, after 65 days, even with all that crazy traffic, we saw our very first fender bender. There were a couple of cars in an intersection as we were on our way to Connaught Place in the centre of Delhi. This is where we got off. After that, It was a short rickshaw drive to the Hyatt.

Yep, for our last night in India we're going big time and staying at the Hyatt (thanks to Boe!) The rickshaw dropped us on the road out front and we had to walk up the driveway (only cabs and limos are allowed through the gate.) It was everything you could imagine a Hyatt to be. Everyone welcomes you and wishes you a good morning. Everyone is efficient and friendly.

It's only 6:30 am and we can't get early check in until 8 am so we check our bags and head to the cafe to relax. It's quite stunning, done in white marble with a waterfall. Marble, again, seems really in abundance!

Once we check in we are in total heaven!! The bed... the bed!! It's so, so soft... and fluffy, the pillows are like giant marshmallows... the shower is hot and steamy... this place is amazing!

We took showers and took a much needed nap!

We are only gardeners.... (Dec 13 - 15)

or... the alternative working title... No Answers, Just More Questions.

We spent the rest of the week getting up early, running to Gakyi for porridge, heading to the lecture, picnicking with a group of Tibetan's who pretty much adopted us, afternoon lecture, dinner, pack the next day's lunch and bed early. That's not to say nothing happened... in fact, plenty happened!!

One morning at breakfast we ran into Joanne again and met Christian from Montreal. Joanne is from upper New York state and had been attending Naropa University studying contemplative psychology and Buddhism. Naropa sounds very interesting. They have a writing school called the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poets (how cool is that!?). That definitely goes on the "what next" list! We talked about how much we missed broccoli and maple syrup. Ah... how the simple things become important!

The Dalai Lama was delivering a fairly serious message although he has quite a light hearted, humorous side that was quite funny. He discussed the benefits of cultivating and generating a sense of empathy and compassion toward others. Desiring that sentient beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering cannot be brought about by praying to him (or any idol) but only through your own effort. And, you can plant the seeds of compassion and tend the garden but, in the end, it has to grow on it's own. Some days he was so "out there" that we were a bit lost but we figured that, even if we don't totally understand it, the information is filtering into our brains and may percolate up at some later point when it's needed.

The monks, at afternoon tea each day, are given rupees. There didn't seem to be any pattern to how much they were given, but each day they received some rupees. Brad asked one of the monks what it was. She indicated that the donations to the temple were divided up among the monks as a daily gift, which the monks then, more often than not, generated additional merit by donating it to a worthy cause (maybe even back to the temple). So there is a bit of an endless circle of donating.

The group attending the teachings was quite diverse. The majority were definitely Tibetans but there were Koreans, Japanese, English, French, German, Israelis... all searching for peace and happiness. On the last afternoon Brad encountered a group of Chinese from Quebec speaking fluent French in the middle of India in "Little Tibet". What a combo! Even so, as many peoples as were present, except for the guards and the occasional surprised looking tourist, there were almost no Indians present... and we were in India! Perhaps they don't mind the Tibetans setting up shop here but aren't really interested in seeing what they have to say about life, the universe and everything.

The tea served in the morning and at lunch was butter tea. What is butter tea you ask? Well, it's tea with milk and butter. In fact, if you get the bottom of the pot, you can have a very thick layer of melted butter floating on the top of your tea. It was really hard to drink. Our delicate Western systems that have been taught that fat is bad. Thank goodness the afternoon tea was just simple milk tea!

The Tibetans are quite hardy people but not fat - even with drinking all that butter tea! The group that adopted us did not speak any English and we don't speak any Tibetan so all the communication was non verbal. During morning tea, out of nowhere was produced a seemingly endless supply of bread. We weren't sure what it was called but it looked like giant English Muffins. They were soft and very fresh. They offered all around and would not take no for an answer. We tried to share the food we had brought but they would not accept. They've fled their country, have basically no possessions, yet still try to give what they have. Amazing. On the last day, one of the men gave Brad the cushion he had been sitting on that week. Again, he would not take no for an answer. Following his example, we gave the cushion to one of the beggars we passed each day. The Tibetans are just human beings. They have two arms, two legs, two hands, etc, etc but they have a light that seems to shine from within and beams from their faces. They are curious and friendly and some of the most open, hospitable people I've ever encountered.

We went looking for cough drops one day due to a bit of a tickle in my throat. All the candy/lozenges are sold in singles because people cannot afford to purchase an entire package. So, not only do they have poverty issues, they have now created excess waste and packaging issues. Seems like a bad downward spiral that's hard to escape.

We had been spending our evenings trying to map out what direction I will go next. Back to India for more training... VSO work for a few years overseas... RMT... Accupuncturist... writer... artist... the options are almost too many! One evening I looked up from our mind map and asked Brad what he wanted to do. We had been spending plenty of time on me, what about him? He was undecided and not really ready to make any decisions. That same night, when we checked our email, Brad had a message from an old boss asking him if he was interested in a 6 month maternity leave contract. Again, the universe delivered what we needed, exactly when we needed it. We now have time, resources and flexibility to do our investigating and make some decisions!

On Thursday, I brought a camera with me. I knew that, if they found it, they would not allow it in the temple but Brad had noticed that some people were checking things so I decided to chance bringing the disposable with me. They located it (good thing, I'd be disappointed if they hadn't). I was told I could leave it at the medical clinic but it was closed. A woman sitting at a table selling CD's told me I could leave it at the store for 10 rupees. Seems a reasonable check price! I left the camera for the day and, at a strategic moment, left the talk just before it finished in order to get pictures of the sea of people that streamed out of the temple.




And, of course, Brad standing in the midst of the sea of people streaming out of the temple.

Sea of Burgundy... (Dec 12)

How often do you have a chance... an opportunity like this?
Sitting in Bodh Gaya and hearing that the Dalai Lama is giving a five day teaching in McLeod Ganj... is it possible?? Can anyone go? Will there be space or will every hotel room be fully booked with pilgrims all wanting the chance to see him? How can we possibly pass up this chance?
No excuses... no "ya but's", no petty inconveniences could possibly be big enough for us not to jump at the chance.

We got up early and followed the stream of people headed to the temple. The line was split into men on the right and women on the left... they had the appropriate sex searching each line. No cameras, no cell phones, no knives, etc etc... It was like going through airport security complete with a metal detector. We walked up the stairs to the elevated terrace that surrounds the temple proper. The temple and terrace were both already jam packed with people... monks in burgundy robes and pilgrims from across the globe sitting in almost every inch of available space. We squeezed in along a railing at the far left of the temple and put down our Thermarest. We had brought it to sit on with the hopes of making sitting on the floor all day a little more comfortable.

As we looked out across all the people sitting and waiting, it was like looking over a sea of burgundy. The monks were seated cross legged in long lines, fit together almost like lego. If one got tired, they would just lean their heads against the monk in front of them and nap. The sun was slanting in, lighting the faces filled with anticipation... everyone seemed to be practically glowing! When the Dalai Lama and his entourage came up the stairs, the surge of energy from the group was almost overwhelming!

First up the stairs were some monks carrying incense, followed by a soldier with a very large, very mean looking gun, the Dalai Lama himself and some more monks. He looked so happy, just smiling and waving to people. He would occasionally stop to say something or shake hands with someone on the edge of the crowd. Everyone was standing and smiling and pretty much bursting just to be there. I've never been much of a groupie of any sort be it screaming women at rock concerts or paparazzi stalking major movie stars but, I will admit, I am a complete Dalai Lama groupie. There was just something about him that created such a rush of good feelings... how could you not be?

The group circumambulated and entered the temple. The inside of the temple was jammed with monks and they had set up a TV in one of the side rooms so that the monks packed inot it could watch. The teaching was in Tibetan, broadcast around the compound on loud speakers. It was then translated into Korean on the loudspeakers (the Korean students had arranged the teaching) and English translation was transmitted on FM radio. We had brought the radio I had picked up in Bodh Gaya but we were experiencing technical difficulties tuning in the station. This was partly due to the fact that we had no idea what frequency was being used. We fiddled for awhile and eventually just gave up and sat and soaked up the vibe instead.

I have to say it again - we still can't believe it!! We're sitting in McLeod Ganj... in India... listening to a teaching on Buddhism by the Dalai Lama... Pinch us!!! We must be dreaming!

Mid-morning, a group of monks started to move through the crowds carrying giant tea kettles. We had forgotten our cup so we missed out on the tea. There are 2,000 to 3,000 people jammed into this space but the monks do manage, somehow, to serve everyone. There was a break for lunch and one of the monks told us that it would start up again at 1:30.

Through the crush of people and up to our favourite Tibetan vegetarian restaurant. It's not very big, only 5 tables, so when it's full, you just share with someone. We ended up sitting with a German mother and son. I'm sure I'll get it wrong but I think her name was Gurula and her son's name I can't even try to spell! He has been in McLeod Ganj for 4 1/2 months studying Tibetan medicine and she had just come from the south where she had been attending a holistic health convention. She has been studying Chinese Holistic medicine and when she retires (in 2 years) she is going to practice full time. Very interesting people! While at lunch we also ran into Joanne, a girl we had met in yoga class the first time we were here a few weeks ago. It was like old home week! Everyone who visits here seems to be drawn back... or just can't bring themselves to leave in the first place.

After lunch we moved to the other side of the temple. I'd noticed some signs indicating a section for English translation listeners. I guess the FM signal wasn't strong enough on the other side and that was why we couldn't get any reception. We found a small square of real estate. It was much easier to follow what was going on once we could tune in the English translation!!

We were sitting at the back, against a railing overlooking some of the temple complex buildings. I heard a noise in the trees above us and looked up to see an entire clan of monkeys! I guess they had come to listen as well.

The crush of people exiting the temple at the end of the lecture reminded me of being on Parliament Hill on Canada Day. We were packed like sardines! The monk in Bodh Gaya had told us that Tibetans tend to be rough with their bodies but soft in their speech (while Westerners tend toward the other way around). This was pretty evident in trying to get through the crowd. Little old Tibetan ladies are tough and definitely don't mess around... oh, and they're stronger than they look! If you don't keep moving, they'll give you a push to make sure you keep moving!

We hit the movie theatre to catch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory... dinner... blogging... and bed!

Back to Tibet... (Dec 11)

Happy Birthday Dad!

The train, as predicted, arrived in Chakki Bank station at 3:40 am - one hour late. At that hour there isn't much going on in a train station but we needed to find someone official to get a theft report for our insurance. We went to the Chief Clerk's office (mainly since it was the only office that seemed to have someone in it). We had to wait until he finished what he was doing, then a bit of discussion and they took us down to the train police office... more discussion (I guess it's not their department)... then we were taken to the GRP office, but it wasn't open. We were walking back towards the Clerk's office, trying to figure out what to do or how long we'd have to wait when someone else appeared to help out. He spoke more English than any of the others - he knocked on the door of the GRP office (I had forgotten that people here tend to sleep/live where they work). Someone answered the door and were were ushered into an office and requested to sit. There wasn't much English in the group but we managed to convey that we were robbed and needed a report for insurance. The man who had knocked said - "be happy you are well, take care of yourself, you are not at home, you are in India". That pretty much summed the whole thing up! We were well and we were definitely in India!

The GRP was very helpful. He didn't have the official form but he found some paper and some carbon and we wrote out the details of what happened and what was stolen and he signed and stamped it. He offered us some tea which was very welcome after our long trip. He told us about his cousins in Surrey, B.C and England. We had the translation book out and were trying to thank him in Hindi but I guess our pronunciation needs work - we showed him in the book what we were trying to say. He found the book quite interesting and showed it to some of the other men in the room.

With that done, we loaded into a rickshaw to take us to the bus station... our journey was not yet complete. There are several local buses that travel each day from Pathenkot to McLeod Ganj and, we have to admit, we're really looking forward to going back.

The driver dropped us on a dark corner and pointed to a large building indicating that it was the bus station. We walked around the building to a counter that seemed to be selling bus tickets. We asked for the McLeod Ganj bus and they pointed to the other side of the lot. Wrong bus group I guess. We walked in the direction they pointed but it was looking like just a row of shops when Brad noticed a desk with what looked like a board of schedules in front of it. The bus stand! Imagine!

We requested tickets for McLeod Ganj but the ticket seller told us we wanted tickets to Dharamsala since the bus sat for an hour in Dharamsala before going up to McLeod Ganj. OK... if he says so. We were pretty early - it was only around 4:30 am now and the GRP guy told us the bus left at 5:30 am. I sat down with the bags while Brad started perusing the nearby stands for snacks. Our bus pulled up a few minutes later and we loaded up. The bus left the station at 5 am... I guess we were either leaving really early or the train guy was a bit off on the time.

The trip to Dharamsala is around 3 1/2 hours and it was fairly uneventful, a reverse of our trip a few weeks ago when we had left (excluding the excruciating back pain of course). We pulled into the, now familiar, bus station (where we almost missed our bus a few weeks ago) at 8:30 am.

The driver pointed to a small bus indicating that it was going to McLeod Ganj. We grabbed our stuff and transferred buses. There were several people on the bus already, mostly Tibetan. We waited, Brad made a pit stop and bought a newspaper... suddenly everyone was getting off the bus. Someone indicated that we were changing buses. We loaded back onto the original bus that we had arrived on in the first place. All this loading and unloading was starting to get crazy (and these packs just aren't all that conducive to swift grace). We were climbing back on the bus... again... and I was pulling myself up through the narrow doorway when a hand reached down and pulled me up. It was the most ancient, beautiful little Tibetan man I had ever seen. He was so adorable that I could have just grabbed him and given him a giant bear hug. He didn't speak any English but he had this presence and a happiness that just radiated from his face. It was infectious!

After everyone was loaded, we started our climb to McLeod Ganj. The road that the bus takes in long and winding. The rickshaws and cabs take a shorter route but it is difficult for the buses to navigate due to the narrow roads. The longer route does many switchbacks and climbs up through some lovely forested areas. We turned a corner, about half way up, and were treated with a gorgeous view of the sun rising up over the city, nestled snug into the side of the mountains. It was so uplifting... we were so happy to be back! We didn't realize how much we had, not only enjoyed the energy of the place, but how much we had missed it.

We reached the bus stand and stepped off into old familiar territory. It was a short walk to Hotel Tibet (where we stayed the last time we were here). We walked in and the staff remembered us... we were back! We didn't get the same room as last time, it was booked. We did get the room two doors down however. We think the hotels were unaware of the impending rush of people and seem to be filling up with pilgrims... we were very happy to get a room.

After we checked in, we grabbed our documents and headed out to get some food and start calling to cancel credit cards. I've discovered that 24 hour customer help lines aren't entirely helpful. For VISA, I couldn't get a toll free number to call but they said you could call collect - which no one here seems to know how to do. Some claim that you can't do it (although I'm sure there must be a way). I ended up on some poor connection trying to report my VISA card. I asked where the guy was (since he didn't know where Mississauga was) and he said he was in Panama. Crazy! He was friendly enough and I know he was doing his job and following his script but I was in a bit of a hurry since I was paying for the call! They should have "in a hurry" scripts for times like that.

Then there was BMO Mastercard... which, while linked to your online banking, is not their department. You have to call them as well, oh, ya, and you can call collect. Then there's AMEX traveler's cheques where none of the phone numbers provided when you buy the cheques actually seem to work. We went to the AMEX website to try and get a current phone number but the links on the site for the phone numbers in India were broken. Let's just say that I was really practicing my patience today. Luckily, none of the losses were all that urgent and we had other funds and cards available to us.

After we'd had enough of that, we picked up a new notebook... have to get those thoughts down from the past few days before they evaporate. As we were passing the security office, we noticed that there was already a line to obtain passes for the teachings. Brad stayed in line while I ran back to the room to get our ID photos. The line took about an hour to get through but, no pass, no entry! While in line we were talking to a couple from Jerusalem. They were very proud of their country and said that it wasn't as bad or dangerous as was portrayed in the media. They were quite well spoken and well traveled (she had lived in New York for awhile). He talked about his annual service in the military a bit and that yes, he did worry about being shot but that the military is in more of a position for that to occur. They told us that the men have to serve one month per year in the military until the age of 45 (55 for officers). There are enough men in the country that the women don't have to serve after they are married.

We discussed politics for a bit as well. They felt that Benjamin Netanyahu was a schmuck... yes, she said schmuck. When we got up to the front of the line and were getting our cards, the man preparing the cards was surprised by Brad's last name. He made a comment that it was Chinese. It didn't occur to us until later that, of course, he'd be surprised by someone Chinese coming to see the Dalai Lama... since China is seemingly still unwilling to free Tibet.

After we got our passes, we were so tired that we went and took a nap. Baraka is playing at our favourite movie spot around the corner so we managed to drag ourselves out of bed to catch it. While Brad was grabbing movie snacks, I was talking to the guy who runs the place. We were discussing his movie collection and what he might play in the next few days... he told me that Israelis tend to like the really violent action films - the more, the better.

Baraka was overwhelming, as usual (I could see it again and again). This time I could actually recognize some of the places as being in India (since I'd been there). We were pretty exhausted still so, after the movie, we grabbed dinner and went to bed.

The Impermanence of Things.... (Dec 10)

We are catching our train to Pathenkot today on our way back to Dharamsala. It doesn't leave until 4 pm so we have plenty of time. We do our final pack/repack to make sure everything still fits and then head to Mukti's for one last breakfast. The porridge is dee-licious. We promise to send the photos we've taken of him and his family once we get home and then head down to the shopping area. We'd been looking at a few items and had decided that now was the time to buy. We noticed a very beautiful punjabi suit as we were headed back to the room and Brad bought it for me as my early birthday present.

We checked out at noon, loaded on the packs and walked down to the Welcome Centre. The Welcome Centre is down next to the river, away from the main road. It has a nice courtyard and seating area to chill out. It has almost every course you think you might ever want to take... cooking, reiki, transcendental meditation, yoga... and on and on. They also have a class utilizing a yoga swing. I thought it looked like a cross between a hammock and an ancient torture device. I entertained the idea of picking one up except I didn't want to have to try and squeeze it into the packs. The centre also has a little shop selling organic and wellness products. The place s run by a Dutch man and his Indian wife. We just chilled out for a few hours listening to music and talking and enjoying the great food. They even made a special order of pakoras for us - they weren't on the menu.

I climbed up over the levy and collected some of the sand from the beach in a small container. I thought about bringing water since a great many pilgrims come to collect the water from the Ganges in jugs and take it home to dying relatives but I thought sand might last longer.

At around 2:30 we walked back up to the road and caught a rickshaw to the train station. There are only two platforms at Rishikesh - since it's a small station. I guess we looked lost because people started directing us to the second platform right away. The train was in the station even though we were an hour early. We found our car and our seats and secured our large packs under the seats with our cables and locks.

I sat in the seats and chilled out while Brad went in search of snacks. Suddenly, the train started to move. We weren't due to leave for almost an hour. I didn't completely panic but I was a wee bit concerned. Brad was off the train somewhere, there was no one else on the train that I'd seen and as far as I knew, no one knew I was even on the train. I sat down and decided just to wait and see what happened. The train stopped just outside the station and Brad appeared. He had had a bit of a panic himself as he saw the train pulling away but he managed to chase it down. He said that there were people in other cars and no one seemed that concerned. I guess they were just maneuvering and adding cars because we moved a couple of more times before we pulled back into the station and the serious loading got underway. We left right on time.

India rail, we've learned, generally leaves on time from the originating station but its a crapshoot after that. Our first stop was back in Haridwar, just down the road. We went through a very long tunnel (not as long as the chunnel but it was really, really long) and pulled into the station. We were supposed to be here only 15 minutes but we ended up sitting on the platform for over an hour.

We were joined in our berth by a man and his son and were waiting patiently to depart. Some other people were loading and there was alot of general moving about. I noticed a couple of guys who seemed lost or something. One of them kept climbing up onto bunks and getting down and moving seats and just generally wandering around. Little did I know that my initial instincts were right but that I was ignoring them. He eventually left. I had put my purse and daypack on the bunk above me (which was where I would be sleeping) to get them out of the way. I went to get my purse to take a photo and it was gone.

Yep, the strange man who I'd been suspicious of had been so bold as to grab my bag while I was sitting directly below it... not only that... the man and his son were sitting with me as well! Brad and I went through the initial denial, looking everywhere... then we were on a search. The man in our berth was very upset and he and his son went up and down the cars looking for the men and telling everyone else in the car what had happened. He was quite incensed! I'm not exactly sure what he was saying since it was in Hindi but I could tell he was really not happy. Brad looked up and down and tried to find a conductor but with no luck. The bag was long gone. I figure he must just boarded, grabbed what he could, and taken off. They don't check tickets until you're underway so it's pretty easy to come and go. In fact, in the class we were in, they never did come and check the tickets so it seems like its pretty much a free for all.

We sat looking at each other as I mentally went through what was in the bag. I was a bit mad at myself for not following my instincts and Brad was mad at himself for not protecting me. As we sat there looking at each other and talking about it the anger wasn't really all that significant and it passed pretty quickly. We were almost peaceful really, each waiting for the other to freak out. No freak outs. We had pretty much accepted that the bag was gone, both note books (I had run out of space and started a new one), my camera with two months of photos, the little APS camera, my backup ID and credit cards, some cash and a couple of traveler cheques. Nothing irreplaceable. Nothing life shattering. We still had everything else and the pictures in Brad's camera and we were OK. Nothing had happened to us... just to the stuff we were carrying. We actually felt sorry for the person who took the bag that he had fallen to the point where he had to steal. We were so calm in fact that we wondered if there was something wrong with us? Shouldn't we be more upset? Storming up and down? Demanding justice?

We decided there was nothing wrong, we had just reached an epiphany of sorts. A different state of mind that neither of us would have predicted or even expected. We seemed to have passed through the stages of grief regarding the loss and hit acceptance pretty fast. In fact, we had to laugh about it as we both realized that the other was not, in fact, going to freak out and that we were really... just fine.

Our companion had told enough people that everyone on the train seemed concerned and to be watching out to ensure that there were no repeats. We are due to arrive in Pathenkot at 2:20 am but with our hour delay already, that seems unlikely. We climb up into our bunks and try to get some sleep. Since we are traveling sleeper class, there is no bedding this time. Other passengers have blankets that seem to materialize from no where... we use our daypacks as pillows and snuggle down into our fleecy tops...

Deep Thought Days....... (Dec 8-9)

We spent the next couple of days basically eating, doing yoga and hanging out. We've just realized we're almost at the end of our trip! END!?! What do you mean end!? Didn't we just get here??? In some ways it feels like we've been gone for months and months, in others it feels like we only left yesterday.

We went to some more yoga at the ashram and checked out the place a bit more thoroughly. The yoga classes are great! In one of the classes the teacher did an interesting twisting version of both parighasana and virabadrasana I where you were trying to get your head on the floor (hard to describe, even harder to do!) On the third night we had one of the younger teachers who asked the class what they were in the mood for. (I should have said savasana!) One woman called out power! And that's exactly what we got. We had to hold the poses for longer than usual which, for some of them, is really challenging. (The teacher joked we'd want an extra chipati after this class). chataranga dandasana and urdva mukha svanasana - I was shaking! in uttanasana he jokingly told us to "smile... enjoy your pain". Funny guy!

This ashram is offering a four week teacher training in February that we have been considering. The accommodations are described as "spartan". I'd say that's a bit of an understatement. The rooms have two beds and a cupboard, you share a bathroom (with a geyser shared between two bathrooms) and a kitchen (which is just a counter and sink). The mattress pads are definitely well worn. For India, the place is nice and clean and relatively comfortable. So it seems a bit unreasonable that they are charging North American prices. We may have to do some further investigation I guess.

With time marching forward, we spent a good deal of time talking, discussing, planning, brain storming (oops, I mean thought showering), and strategizing. What or where might be next on the agenda. We have no shortage of ideas and I guess at some point we'll have to pick a direction and strike out on our path. The great thing is, as we've already learned, there are branches along the way you can take or, you can just change direction and take an entirely new road altogether!

We discovered this amazing little cafe called Mukti's Health Food Oasis. It's run by a husband and wife with their two sons and is tucked away in a corner near the autorickshaw stand. It only has six tables but, if its full, you just squeeze in and make new friends with someone. All the food is made fresh as soon as you order (including the soup) and the pumpkin soup is to die for! I ate it every day!! They even have apple pie with a whole wheat crust. Outstanding! The place is so good that it should absolutely be in every guidebook. I even entertained the idea of writing and demanding it's inclusion in the next editions but I'm afraid of what might happen if they get any busier!

One evening we had just finished eating (yes, pumpkin soup) and we were just sitting and enjoying our tea. The cafe was full of chatter in the many different languages of the patrons, the air was filled with the smell of cooking and sweet incense, Brad was reading one of the books from the cafe's well stocked bookshelves, there were goldfish swimming around in a small fish bowl on our table and Mrs. Mukti had started to sing... everything was perfect and I was overcome with a moment of spontaneous joy. Complete and total bliss.

Deja Vu....... (Dec 7)

Sitting at breakfast, planning our departure to Rishikesh and in walk Sarah and Nick, the couple we met in Bodh Gaya. They had been here a couple of days and were heading to Rishikesh for a ten day meditation retreat at one of the ashrams. Since we were all going to the same general area, we agreed to split a rickshaw. Grit and Sten joined us as well for some more travel conversation.

Back to the room, pack up and meet Nick and Sarah at the gate. As we strolled toward the road, the drivers saw us coming and were ready to pounce on us when we reached them. We agreed on our price and loaded up into one of the vehicles. It was fairly slow going since our rickshaw laboured massively over even the smallest incline. Half way there we pulled over and our driver waved down another vehicle. The two drivers had a very animated conversation in Hindi and then informed us we had to change vehicles. We had to pay the original driver half and half to the new driver when we reached our destination. I guess our rickshaw just wasn't up to the task.

We transferred vehicles and were on our way again. We had the driver drip us in front of the Sivananda ashram. This is the original ashram and very different from the one we saw in Haridwar. It is just up the road from Yoga Niketan and not far from the staircase down to the footbridge so Nick and Sarah can cross over to Parmarth (where they are staying).

We bid our farewell and head to our guest house. Our room has a balcony that looks out over the Ganges and we can see the footbridge and Swarg Ashram on the other side. There is a nightly candle ceremony at the ghat at Parmarth Ashram, directly across from our guest house that we should be able to watch from our balcony.

We strolled around a bit more after checking in and decided to take the evening yoga class at the ashram (since its included in the price of our room). Class, according to the schedule at the front desk, is at 5 pm. We walked up the hill early in order to look around a bit. the guard told us that the class actually started at 4:30 pm - which was now! Damn! I hate being late! We hurried to the yoga hall and slipped quietly into the back of the class.

The hall is a large square room with very high ceilings lined with rows of ceiling fans. The bare cement floor is covered in thick burgundy carpeting and rows of yoga mats. You could probably fit 50 or so students in here if you lined them up right but there are only 15 or so tonight. The teacher is on a raised platform in the front right corner of the room. Next to him, in the centre, is a glass door leading to a small lit chamber that holds a life size statue of the ashram's guru. Class is already going but they've just started the sun salutations so we're not too late.

The class was great and the teacher, while serious, had a hilarious, very dry sense of humour that had me giggling. It was also interesting, the class had a good flow but between each pose, he had us take tadasana (if standing) or dandasana (if seated) until our breath returned to normal. It really ensured you maintained your focus on the breath for the entire class. After class we were sooooo relaxed, we grabbed some quick dinner and went to bed.

We're NOT Crazy After All! (Dec 6)

Brad is losing it - he's going into some serious CBC withdrawal! It was bad enough that they were on strike all summer but atleast we had the program repeats to listen to. Now we don't even have that! It's has reached the point where if I say something innocent and unrelated, just a random word like, say... roundup - Brad starts speaking in tongues, spewing CBC radio personality and program names. He is now at the point where he sits at night with the radio I bought to listen to the translation of the Dalai Lama trying to tune in the BBC!

We are visiting Rishikesh today. After breakfast we strolled out to the roadway and caught a shared rickshaw. Rishikesh is about 25 km from Haridwar and takes just under an hour to get to. In a shared rickshaw there is a great deal of starting and stopping as people load and unload along the way. At one point we had 11 passengers and the driver packed into seating for 7. Talk about cozy! Brad moved to sit on the floor so that two women with a baby could squeeze in.

The rickshaw driver dropped us near the main bus stand in downtown Rishikesh. Most ashrams (and Westerners) head directly across the river to the Swarg Ashram area. The driver told us it was 5 km away but it didn't look that far on the map (not that it's been totally reliable). We decided to walk.

We made a quick stop at an internet cafe and popped into a couple of guest houses to check out the area accommodations and pricing options. Before long we could see the footbridge ahead of us - that was no 5 km! The driver was likely not totally lying but not totally telling the truth either - it probably is 5 km by auto but by foot, it's much closer.

The bridge is a suspension type connecting the two communities across the Ganges. The river is quite low now but we can see evidence that, in spring, it gets very high. There are children on the bridge selling food to throw to the giant (and fat!) carp in the river. They are huge!

We stopped into one of the restaurants just across the bridge. They have a person out front dressed as a ChotiWalla. We're not sure what it's supposed to be but his whole head is shaved except for a pony tail sticking straight out the back of his head. His entire head and neck are painted pink and he sits on a raised platform ringing a bell suspended from the ceiling. He's quite odd looking really and we have no idea what the connection is to food.

We sat on the rooftop patio in order to watch the comings and goings below. It would have been better except that the flies were driving us crazy! We're not sure why Rishikesh would have so many more flies than anywhere else we'd been - maybe there's a big landfill or something too nearby. The food wasn't bad but we didn't lounge for long with all those flies!

Rishikesh is more well known for yoga than Haridwar (the Beatles came here after all) and there are lots of ashrams and teachers catering to Western students. With all this peace and love and yoga, you'd expect this place would be wonderful and tranquil. Maybe we expect too much? It seemed strange that the ashrams were pretty heavily fortified. The Ved Niketan had entrance traps and steel mesh covering everything. Maybe it's because there are so many Westerners? Or maybe it's because of all the chilan smoking Sadhus - but we figure the worst you'd get from them is a serious case of the munchies.

We also stopped at the local internet cafe/travel agent for awhile to enquire about the best way to get back to Dharamsala. We walked back across the bridge to book a room at the Yoga Niketan for tomorrow. As we were crossing the bridge, we saw a monkey walk up and try to grab a woman's purse right out of her hands! Cheeky! She must have had food in it or maybe he just didn't like the looks of her.

Back in a rickshaw, back to Haridwar and dinner. Sitting in the dining hall, we were joined by Grit and Sten from Munich. Grit was in PR and Sten in computer software. They had both quit their jobs, put their stuff in storage, put their cars with their friends and taken off for a year of travel. (Wow! We're not so crazy after all!)

They had just been in South Africa and Namibia -I guess, after talking to them, we're going to have to add those to our list of "must see". We had a great conversation about traveling and jobs versus careers and family and friends thoughts on our decisions. It could have gone longer but it was getting late - time for bed!

Cheeky Monkey...... (Dec 5)

Now Brad is having some seriously crazy dreams at night - something about being lost in the middle of no where at a cattle ranch equipped with a fully modern, computerized travel desk. Maybe he's seen one too many cows?

We have to move rooms again? Well, they want us to anyway. They got our geyser fixed and they want us to move back to our original room but it's a pain to keep moving so we opted to stay where we were.

We walked north, up the road a bit, in search of Shanti Kunj. It is supposed to be very close to where we are staying and is supposed to have yoga. We walked a bit and couldn't find it. As we walked back, we saw a sign for it in English on the side of the road. It ended up being directly across from the ashram we were staying in and we'd walked by it every day and not even realized it. Argh!

We wandered in and started looking around when we were approached by one of the residents (and when I say "we" ... I mean Brad). He was a nice fellow who told us (Brad) all about the complex. There are over 1000 residents living here - its really quite big. He showed us one of the temples that had a complete scale model of the Himalayan mountain range in it where you could sit, amphitheatre style, and contemplate its vastness (I guess). The daily schedule was jam packed with the wake up call being at 3:30 am (4 am in the winter). There was lots of meditation and lectures and pujas but it didn't seem to have any drop in yoga classes.

Haridwar is known to be pretty hard core when it comes to yoga and you generally have to commit to a period of time and follow their strict guidelines so it wasn't too surprising. At one point it felt like we were being recruited into a cult of "The Light Divine". I'm sure they are good people with good intentions (how can world peace be a bad intention?) but it seemed odd from a Western point of view.

We finished our tour and headed toward town. We took yet another road we hadn't been on yet and passed the Sivananda Ashram. For those not familiar, this is a pretty big name in yoga with branches all over the world. I'm not sure what we expected to see - maybe a nice serene place with gardens, etc... Instead, picture downtown Niagara Falls or even a carnival funhouse. The front facade was a fake rock face with large plaster figures here and there. Some in yoga poses, some curvy women pouring water into the mouths of crocodiles and, on top, one very large, very mean looking god (?) who was about to chop about to whack the head off someone. In some ways I was even reminded of the Rainforest Cafe and was waiting for the regular interval when they all started moving like some weird yoga animatronic nightmare. We didn't go in... it was too strange.

(**With my missing book... some things may get missed and some things may get repeated - you're just going to have to go with me on this. I'll explain the missing book in time...)

We stopped to check some email and then headed to the Mansa Devi Temple to use the tickets that had been so kindly given to us. The alley way leading to the cable car is a gauntlet of small shops selling souvenirs and children selling bags of prasad to leave as offerings at the temple. There is a steep 1.5 km path you can take to the temple or you can take the cable lift. The lift looks like some ancient ski lift (and likely is).

We climb into our car and start up. There are quite a few monkeys frolicking around on the path and it does look very steep in some parts. As we rise, we are treated to a beautiful view of the city and the river below. As we exit the lift, it becomes evident that this too is a giant tourist destination. There are barriers set up for huge queues of pilgrims and shops packed into every spare nook and cranny.

Haridwar has a celebration every few years that brings in over 10 million pilgrims so I guess it gets pretty busy here! We move out to the path, away from the shops, to enjoy the view. I was standing quietly, looking at the flowers while Brad had gone around a wall to get some photos. I heard a noise and looked up in time to see a monkey speeding off with a bag of prasad stolen from one of the vendors. Those cheeky devils move pretty darn fast! Enough photos and our fill of the view, we took the car back down.

We've come to the realization that religion is really big business! Haridwar pretty much runs entirely on tourism - hotels, shops, temples, ashrams - there's really no industry here except what caters to the pilgrims. Bodh Gaya as well likely wouldn't exist if it weren't for the Bodha Tree. Of course, you could probably say the same thing about Vegas or Niagara Falls... or even Gananoque!

Cheese Toast? (Dec 4)

We slept too late to get breakfast at the ashram (it's only from 8 - 10 am) so we went across the road to a small stand to get some tea and toast. When they brought the toast I had to do a double take - it looked like they'd brought me a toasted cheese sandwich. On further investigation I realized that it wasn't cheese, it was butter as thick as a Kraft single! I think maybe the butter was too hard to spread so they just cut slices off and put it on the toast. I ended up scraping most of it off. Why tempt the heart attack?

Brad was trying to ask the guy for some cinnamon to make cinnamon toast but we had forgotten our Hindi phrasebook and he thought we were asking for tin foil. Ah well, he didn't really need the extra sugar anyway.

We were watching traffic whiz by, trying to determine how people move from city to city. Haridwar is about 25 KM from Rishikesh and we are on the roadway that links the two. There are buses and shared autorickshaws that travel between so we were watching to see if it was like hailing a cab. The buses here have regular stops but they also seem to stop at random if you just stick out your arm. We figure that when we're ready to go, we'll just ask someone to help us.

We are still looking for a couple of ashrams that are listed on the Lonely Planet map. The map from the previous edition leaves a bit to be desired. We started down a road we hadn't been on yet, hoping to stumble across the missing ashrams. One key thing that would have been useful was if they let you know whether the signs you were looking for were in English or, if not, if they had given you the Hindi spelling. The Hindi alphabet looks nothing like our alphabet.

We discovered that some of the places we'd been looking for we had actually walked past several times. With the help of some locals, we found some of the things we were looking for - we even found some things we weren't looking for.

We stopped to rest at a ghat, sitting on a bench in the shade. there were sadhus (holy men) sleeping in the sun. It was quiet and peacefu. A little further on we passed a park with a large statue of (I think) Shiva. We eventually meandered along the river back out to the main road and continued on into town to do some internetting. We hung out in town until it was getting on to sunset.

At sunset, at Har-Ki-Pari, there is a nightly light offering ceremony we want to see. There is singing and bell ringing and baskets made from banana leaves filled with flowers and a burning wick set afloat on the water. It goes on for about a 1/2 hour and then some of the pilgrims splash around in the water. The book says that some of them are looking for coins that have been thrown in be the devout.

A woman approached Brad and before he knew it had marked him with a yellow and red bindi and stuck out her hand for payment. They are fast little devils! Since I saw what happened to Brad, when she came towards me, I ducked. Atleast she didn't try to push it.

After the ceremony was over, we headed back to our rooms at the ashram. We had to move rooms again since our geyser wasn't working and we had no hot water. We got some extra blankets and get settled... again.

Brad went down to the dining hall for a chai. We'd had a late lunch and weren't very hungry. While he was there, he plunked himself down with Melanie and Reif. Melanie is from LA and Reif is Dutch. They met in MBA school and are in India for a full on 4 day Indian wedding. They had experienced the same strange flight options we had in trying to book. The cheapest flight they could find was LA to NY to Amsterdam to Delhi. Doesn't make much sense...

They had been to the Chandi Devi Temple (south of Haridwar) and had purchased the combo ticket to also visit the Mansa Devi Temple. After visiting the first and discovering what a tourist trap it was, they had opted not to go to the second temple and gave Brad the unused tickets.

The wedding they are attending is semi-arranged. They are friends with the groom and his parents had "encouraged" him to meet this woman as a potential bride. It just happened that it worked out.

As advice for the young and single... or just single... you have a much better chance of finding the right person if you meet them doing the thing that you love.

Wash Away Sin..... (Dec 3)

Sleeping on the top bunk, for whatever reason, I got more sleep than on our last train ride. I woke at 3:30 am (1/2 hour before my alarm... of course). I seem to have picked up another intestinal bug. Dammit!! (Oops... pardon my language).
Ah well, this too shall pass.. atleast I'm not hiking.

We pulled into our station an hour late so it was just after 5 am. I figured that was just fine. We were staying at the Moyal Ashram and if we were earlier, I had doubts that anyone would be up. We exited the station and it felt like something was wrong. We left completely unharassed. It was weird.

We walked to the rickshaw stand (they didn't come to us) and did the usual negotiating. The roads here are much smoother... like glass compared to Gaya... but it is freezing! (You can see your breath). You have to understand, it was quite warm in Gaya but we've gone north again and it's now cold. The wind was whipping my hair around, my face was freezing, my eyes were tearing - luckily we're Canadian (and I'd pulled on my fleecy pullover that I'd picked up in Dharamsala).

The ashram is just on the edge of town, 4 - 5 km from the train station. We pulled up to a barrier that lead down a driveway. I walked up to the gate to make sure that someone was about. There were three night watchmen(?) sitting outside in lawn chairs who invited us in.

The reception wasn't open but they went to wake someone and cleared a chair for me to sit on. They didn't speak any English really but they were friendly. After a few minutes, a young man appeared (I'm pretty sure we got him out of bed). We filled out all the paperwork (India seems to run on paperwork) and he found us a room. It was not made up and there were no towels but we have to wait for the staff to start and they don't get in until 7 am. We also discovered that the water was not turned on in the room. We laid down on the bed and napped for awhile while we waited for the place to get rolling. We think he put us in this room simply because it was the only room available. Brad went down to the reception desk around 9 and they told us we couldn't move rooms until someone else checked out. Popular place!

The ashram is built, mainly, from white marble and has a beautiful yoga and meditation hall. I'm starting to think that India has more than it's share of white marble! The rooms are very nice and, since its an ashram, it's pretty inexpensive. It even includes breakfast and dinner in the dining hall.

While we waited to move rooms, we decided to go and get breakfast. Pretty simple food - parantha, curd, potato curry and chai - as much as you care to eat. There were three French people sitting at a table near us butI couldn't hear enough to figure out if they were from France or Quebec.

A young couple came in, Brad met the young woman in the doorway. She was from Richmond Hill but hadn't been home in two years. She's been travelling. She and her companion had just come from two months of volunteer work in Mumbai and like us, hadn't seen very many Canadians in her travels (although there was one other Canadian where she was volunteering.)

After breakfast we moved rooms, got settled and decided to stroll into town. It was a pretty long walk. We stopped at the first internet cafe we saw. He let us use it quickly to check on our email - the power was out and he didn't want to strain his generator. I guess all the power was off today - something about work being done to computerize the system. We did just quick email to make sure there wasn't anything urgent and continued our trek into the main part of town.

Haridwar isn't as big a tourist spot for Westerners so most of the signs are in Hindi and people don't speak as much English. There are a really large number of monkeys here compared to other cities we've been in. In fact, I think I may have seen more monkeys than cows - just climbing around on the buildings, etc. A bit of an 'urban jungle' I guess. I would liken them to the North American raccoon - don't leave anything out you don't want eaten. At one point we were strolling through the very lively market place and, when I looked up, a family of monkeys had opened someone's window and the only thing keeping them from trashing the place was the bars on the inside.

The market has an endless maze of shops but, like many tourist areas, they all look the same after awhile. After lunch we headed over to the Ganges. Brad took off his boots and stuck his feet in. This is the point where the Ganges "officially" exits the Himalayas. It is very cold and runs very fast. There are chains for the pilgrims to hold so they don't get washed away while taking their ceremonial plunge at the ghats. The area could be quite relaxing...except that you have to find a spot away from the beggars. The beggars here who are missing legs or who have had polio move around on small platforms with wheels. (Others we've seen just crawl on whatever they have left.) The first time one approached me, I thought it was a skateboard coming up behind me!

The Har-Ki-Pari ghat marks the spot where the river leaves the moutains and this is where the pilgrims come to bathe. Non Hindus did not used to be allowed on the ghat but they have opened it up and simply request a donation. The problem is that there seem to be quite a large number of "official" people with name badges and donation books all swarming you for donations as soon as you get near the ghat. They all claim to be official. Our first encounter with them actually drove us away from the very thing we'd come to see. We left the ghat and strolled further into town.

We were standing in a gentleman's clothing shop - I was waiting for Brad who was buying himself a shirt. I was just absentmindedly looking around at the stacks of fabric and rugs sitting up on pallets when I saw a small furry run by. I'm pretty sure it was a rat but it looked more like a giant mouse. It was kind of cute really (I'm a sucker for small furrys... what can I say).

After we'd had enough wandering around, we headed back to the ashram. I was tired and didn't feel like eating so Brad headed down to the dining hall without me while I rested. While he was there he met B.K.Pal. They talked about India and yoga. He told Brad about the school where he and his wife trained in yoga - the Bihar school. His wife has a P.G.Diploma in Yoga Science and is a Yoga Therapist (along with her BHSc, MA and BEd!) He was telling Brad about yoga nidra (yogic sleep) and recommended the school and some books to check out.

Speaking of sleep.......

Shaken, not stirred..... (Dec 2)

The watch alarm went off at 3:30 am. There was a time in my life when I'd just be getting home... not getting up! Things change I guess.

We got up, got organized and headed down to the lobby. All the lights were off so Brad used his flashlight to get us safely down to the lobby (he's such a boyscout). Our friendly hotel boy was sleeping on the floor behind the desk. There was a large steel roll up door pulled down over the entrance and he had to let us out. (I guess there's no emergency exit?)

The cab wasn't there yet so we waited. The hotel guys started to get worried. They made a call and an autorickshaw arrived a few minutes later. The cab they had arranged was not arriving so they'd called in reinforcements. We piled in and a young man, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, started us barrelling down the roadway. My recollection had been that the road was pretty much straight until we hit Gaya so I wasn't sure where he was going when he turned left.

We pulled up and picked up his father (the owner of the rickshaw I guess). Time was a-wasting! They asked what train we were on and off we went. We were in a bigger rickshaw than on the way there (it was a hard-top) so you would have, maybe, hoped for a bit smoother ride. Let's just say there was a thick pad cushioning the roof of the passenger compartment - you can use your imagination from there.

Luckily there was no traffic and the driver was quite familiar with the route. We pulled up to a staircase leading to a pedestrian bridge that took us right to our platform - the train pulled in 60 seconds later. Talk about cutting it close!

We are riding in 2 tier sleeper again but this time we have bunks 5 and 6. Bunks 1 to 4 are in a berth that runs perpendicular to the windows so the people in 2 and 4 sit on the bunks of 1 and 3 during the day and then climb up to their bunks to sleep at night. Bunks 5 and 6 are directly across the aisle, one over the other, parallel to the windows. The bottom bunk splits and folds up into two seats facing each other during the day.

The seats were great, except for the roaches. I guess our car hadn't been fumigated in awhile and the roaches were taking over. We'll have to build some serious positive karma to make up for all the stomping we did.

Our train is scheduled to hit Haridwar at 4:12 am. Hopefully someone will be awake to let us in. At one point, looking out the window, we travelled over the River Son. It to was vast and very, very dry. This place seriously needs some rain.

Brad had hopped off the train in one of the stations in search of samosas. I was reviewing my digital photos while two young chai wallas came by. They saw me and were quite excited - they wanted me to take their photo. They were so cute, how could I not?

Getting tired after a long day, I crawled into the top bunk (hoping there would be fewer roaches) and went to sleep.

Lock and Load...... (Dec 1)

Today was just to hang out and tie up the last minute things before our train tomorrow morning. Our train goes from Gaya at 5:10 am so we've arranged a cab through our hotel to pick us up at 4:00.
I guess it will be our turn to wake up all the hotel guests with our departure.

I got a semi-operational internet again and Brad went shopping. We packed, did some more mindfulness yoga (this time our rickshaw driver only had one eye) and pretty much just hung out.

We ran into Pappu again and this time he tried to convince us to buy him a soccer ball. He is definitely persistent.

We confirmed the cab and our train seats and went to bed early.

2 Years, No Monsoon..... (Nov 30)

We still haven't seen any rain and it sounds like we may not any time soon. This part of Bihar has gone two years with no monsoon. It's very, very, very dry. The river has almost gone to nothing and the wide, dusty, dry riverbed stretches far into the distance. The river bed is really quite wide so you can tell there used to be water.

Brad got up early(ish) and walked to the train ticket office to get our tickets for Haridwar. The restaurant across the road (Gautam, next to Pole to Pole) told us last night that he was making fresh cinnamon rolls this morning! I walked over to pick a couple up while Brad was getting our tickets (they were still warm!) We had expected him to be awhile queuing up so I was surprised to meet him as I exited the restaurant. We went back in and had some apple and cinnamon porridge to supplement our rolls.

We finally had an internet connection that seemed to be stable so I stayed for a couple of hours updating. It had been so hit and miss, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. While I was madly typing away, Brad walked to the market to pick up some fruit. The police station is just down the road from where we were and as Brad passed, there was a crowd of people standing around. He stopped to see what was going on. I guess you'd call it old-fashioned justice. Prisoners were being brought out one by one and flogged. I was shocked when he told me! He said that one was even strung upside down by his ankles and the soles of his feet were beaten. I guess the punishment depended on the individual crime. He also said the crowd wasn't cheering, just watching.

Our train is departing December 2 so we decided to get some shopping done. I picked up a beautiful sari in one of the shops. The owner had the most delightful laugh and he was so excited about showing me all the fabrics that he had. I could have walked out with a truckload! I limited myself to just one. Brad did the measurements for the blouse and the owner indicated it would be ready later that day.

As we looked around, we stumbled across a statue maker who did wood and stone carvings. Most of the statues here seem to be churned out at an alarming rate from some factory and shipped in. I had noticed him sitting and carving these small pieces of wood. Apparently they carve these very small wooden buddhas that the monks often wear around their necks. We bought a very nice stone Ganesh.

We had decided to head back to Root this evening to take their Mindfulness Yoga class and stay for dinner (like I said, the food was really good). We arrived about an hour early for class so we went up to the library to hang out for a bit. I was reading a book on ritual in Buddhism. It helped further explain the thinking behind ritual in the first place and why ritual had fallen out of favour in Western society.

The library closed at 4:00 so we went over to the dining hall to relax and have a tea. Rita, the monk who had done our course, was sitting and relaxing so we joined her for a chat. I asked her about what we'd seen the monks doing in the courtyard with all the clapping. It is a form of debate. The monk standing asks a question and punctuates it with a clap and a stomp. The seated monk answers. She said one question might be something like "what is the meaning of Buddha". The seated monk might answer "awakened". So the standing monk would say "are you awake?"
"Yes"
"So are you Buddha?"
"No"
"Then how is awakened, Buddha?"
and on and on.
It's quite rapid fire and she said it makes the mind very sharp. The clapping is also to, metaphorically, crush the ego of the questioner in case they thought they were getting too smart with their points.

Yoga was with Jean-Claude, a Parisian. It was a slow, relaxing, methodical class. We did the standing poses on the bare tiles which was different. They gave a nice grip and you could use the lines to get your feet aligned properly. The Parisian accent is quite delicious for the ears. Even Brad commented that he'd go home with him if he asked (he kills me!)

Back to the sari shop. I went into the back and tried it on. I tried to wrap it in the way Kamala had shown me but that was a year ago and the lesson was very short. I came out, somewhat wrapped. We all had a good laugh. I have to say I was pretty close but it wasn't quite right. My pleats were apparently too big. Back into the back room and, with some assistance, I was rewrapped. I looked like a princess! The fabric is a rich, blue georgette with nice detail embroidery. So pretty!

The owner had Brad try on one of the men's wedding shirts as well. We didn't buy it but we got a photo. It looked like it would be nice and comfy as well.

None of the internet cafes were working so we headed back to the hotel.

Searching for the Dalai.. (Nov 29)

I guess tours arrive at unspeakable hours in Bodh Gaya as well. We were awakened at 4:30 am by a very boisterous group somewhere in the hotel. We're not sure whether they were coming or going but they were not very quiet. We spent the morning trying to get some writing caught us and trying to search for info on the Dalai Lama. We found out while we were at Root that he will be in Dharamsala in December holding a teaching. What a great opportunity!!

Walking near the temple, we encountered a boy (around 12 years old) trying to sell us postcards. He reminded Brad of an Oliver Twist type character. He was explaining that he was a student and wanted us to buy him a book, he was quite persistent. We said no (alot). We told him we were going for a tea (we wanted to discuss our plans of what to do/where to go next) . We invited him to come with us. His name was Pappu. He claimed his village was 3 km away but he had no bicycle so he had to walk. We asked why he wasn't in school (which he said was 1/2 km away) and he brought up the no book thing again. The problem with buying the kids books is that they just sell them back to the shops to get the money - they don't actually go to school. When we sat in the restaurant he told us he wanted some food. Food is cheap, he can't resell it and we wanted a snack anyway so we ordered some pakoras. After saying goodbye to Pappu (still trying to convince us to buy him something) we strolled to the train station. We have decided to move on to Haridwar. The train ticket office keeps some serious banker's hours! They are only open from 8:00 to 2:00 and they have recess from 1:00 to 1:30 (why? I don't know). We got there too late so we walked back, tried to do more internetting (it's pretty awful in the evening to get a connection here), had dinner and just chilled out.

Reeelaaaax.... (Nov 27 - 28)

We spent the next two days at the Root institute from 6:45 am to 6:00 (or so) pm. Yes, we actually dragged our sorry butts out of bed in time to walk to the temple and catch a rickshaw to Root so we could participate in the morning meditation. (Yes... really... Brad did get out of bed that early!)

The two days was basically a crash course in Tibetan Buddhist meditation practices. We started each morning with a meditation and then had breakfast (you should never meditate on a full stomach). After breakfast, we had a talk from a monk. Her name was Rita and she was from Switzerland. She's been a monk for 14 years. She was really quite interesting and down to earth in how she viewed and presented things. She and the other woman presenting(who's name unfortunately escapes me) both spoke with no notes, just going with the topic and the questions from the group. There were nine of us in class - the Australian couple we'd met a couple of nights ago, a German couple, a French couple, and one young American fellow.

There was a 10 day silent retreat going on at the same time as we were there so we were requested to spend the full 2 days in silence (except during the question and answer periods). Because of this, we never really got to know the other participants.

After our post-breakfast morning talk, we did a walking meditation out in the garden until we heard the ringing of the singing bowl. The walking meditation is interesting - paying close attention to every sensation and movement as you slowly walk up and down your selected strip of grass. After the walking meditation we would go back inside the gompa for a seated meditation. We spent the two day course seated on meditation cushions. You know, those cushions get really hard on the posterior after a couple of hours and my feet kept falling asleep. Brad, who was sitting behind me, was uncomfortable due to the fact that his back was still bothering him (I could hear him shifting around alot). On a positive note, after two days of discomfort seated on the floor, it opened his hips a bit and made his back loosen up!

On both days, as we sat in the gompa a crested bird (rather like a bluejay) landed on the sill outside and started pecking at the glass. I guess it saw a spot that it really wanted to use to build a nest. We had to close the curtains to discourage it!

After the seated mindfulness meditation was lunch. The food there was all vegetarian and really excellent. Lunch was in silence as well - so you could stay inside your head and be mindful of what you were eating. We both noticed how much less you actually eat (or want to eat) if you pay attention to each bite. After lunch we would have another discussion / lecture, a tea break followed by two different afternoon meditations and then dinner. One evening, on the way back to the hotel, one too many children had asked Brad if he was Muslim. Not that that's a bad thing but we decided not to tempt fate with airport security so he shaved off the beard. I guess family and friends will just have to live with the photographic evidence that he did have a full-on beard going.

On the second day, I was standing watching the goats that belong to the institute. They were on leads staked to the ground in various spots where the grass needed trimming. I noticed that, no matter how long and thick the grass was around them, they always seemed to be straining against their rope to get that one blade of grass that was just out of reach. I guess it's not just human nature.

There are also three dogs who live at the compound. One is a very playful doberman. He may have been the first doberman I've seen who didn't have his ears and tail clipped. They're really rather comical looking if you're used to the clipped variety. He wanted to play one day after lunch. The only problem was that if I threw a stick, he'd run after it, bite it in half and then just stand there looking at me, waiting for another. I thought maybe he didn't know how to play fetch. When I was out of sticks I was standing there, looking at him expectantly looking at me expectantly - he came over, dug a bit in the garden, pulled out a clod of dirt and dropped it in from of me. Ok. I threw it, he chased it and brought me back a rock. I guess he only knows how to play fetch with rocks. Whatever works!

Meditation and sitting is hard work but we decided its not really that hard compared to the rickshaw driver we had one morning. He had no shoes and could barely reach the pedals from the bicycle seat but he only had one arm so he couldn't stand on the pedals. Still, he was cheerful and he was working it.

After dinner on the second day, we were invited to join the group to give light offerings at the Mahabodhi Temple. At first we weren't planning to attend. Rather like not taking communion at a Catholic wedding - it seemed disrespectful to give a light offering. The monk, Rita, encouraged us to go, explaining that you were simply offering a light to the universe or anyone you thought could use it. The Aussie couple we had met commented 'when will you have another chance to attend a light offering at the Bodha Tree with Tibetan monks?' Ok, that decided it. (Sidebar... Sarah, the Aussie woman, has a cousin who is cousins with Belinda Stronach - small world!)

We arrived at the temple around 7:30 pm and bought some candles outside the gate and found a spot for our group to sit. We had brought some small mats from the compound to (partially) cushion us as we sat on the marble. I was asking one of the monks what the prostrations were for. I asked whether she felt that the Buddha had become a religious idol, being worshipped. She said that the prostrations were more to show reverence to what the man achieved (enlightenment) rather than the man himself so, in that way, she didn't feel that she was worshipping an idol, just an ideal. Ok, I can buy that. I guess what you see depends on how you look.

We did a meditation to set our intention for the light offering (thoughts become things) and then circumambulated the temple to the small park where there were tables set up for the light offerings. We all lit our candles while we visualized a sky filled with lights. All the candles lined up on the tables with the group standing quietly smiling - it was a very serene and peaceful moment. To top it off, we headed back to the hotel for a very peaceful sleep.

No Means No..... (Nov 24)

Sometimes the Wallas just don't believe you when you say no. One came on the train selling these balls of doughy type stuff floating in super sweet syrup. I said no. He kept saying yes, scooped one our and tried to hand it to me. I think I have to start saying "no, get lost" instead of "no, thank you" (like my mother taught me always to say). He looked quite offended when I still refused to take it. Imagine!

The train pulled into Gaya just after 3 pm. (Yes Dad, we got some photos for you!) We knew it was going to be crazy, swarming with touts, so we had agreed ahead of time to take and autorickshaw and what we wanted to pay. Sure enough, before we were even out of the station, we were surrounded. We bargained and agreed upon 50 rupees to take us the 13 km to Bodh Gaya. As we sat in the rickshaw we saw another couple being swarmed. They didn't seem really happy about the whole thing (Brad thinks one of the touts got hold of one of their bags and they were without option but to follow). They climbed into a rickshaw and left. We were still waiting, wondering where our driver had gotten off to. I think they were trying to find other people to pile into the rickshaw with us. There are no seat belt laws (or helmet laws for that matter) and, in Gaya, it's not unusual to see a rickshaw built for 6 or 7 people (and that's pushing it) to be piled with 10 to 15, including luggage and farm animals! They must not have been able to find any takers since we were now informed that it was going to cost 80 rupees. We started arguing.. they were claiming that it was 18 km.. back and forth.. we agreed on 70 rupees for the whole rickshaw (no hitchhikers).

Gaya isn't much to look at so we were happy to be departing right away. We are now in the province of Bihar. Bihar is also where Calcutta is located. This is the poorest province in India and they recommend not being out at night due to bandits. This is also where the Bodha Tree is located (the tree where Sidaharta became enlightened... and the Buddha).

The rickshaw ride was the most bone jarring, tooth rattling, filling loosening ride we'd been on due to the excessively pothole infested roads. (Brad's back is getting better but he's still not moving the way he should). We are now back at sea level and it's pretty flat so there's a great deal of farming. We arrived at the guest house we had called to reserve and checked in. The staff are extremely friendly and the rooms are simple and clean. What more could you ask for?

By the time we were in and settled, we were hungry. We headed across the road to a place called Pole-to-Pole. There are actually two places called Pole to Pole right next to each other. One it called the Old Pole to Pole, the other Original Pole to Pole. The guidebook said both were good so we went into the first one.

The restaurant is more of a building that didn't quite get completed. It has half walls running down each side made of cement, and bamboo posts running down the centre holding up a roof that seems more like a tent than anything else. The front and rear of the restaurant are open to the outside. It's much warmer here than in the mountains and with the open air concept, the mosquitoes are crazy!

In talking to the owner, he claims that he was here first (he's been here 12 years) but, unlike in Canada, there is no law to prohibit someone from using his shop name - even if it's right next door! I guess if you get quoted in LP, people want to use your name to capitalize on it. The food was pretty good so I'm sure we'll be back.

After dinner it was dark and we didn't really have a good idea of the layout of town yet and we were tired from the long train ride so we went back to the hotel and went to bed.

Chugga Chugga... Choo Choo.... (Nov 23)

We are catching the train this morning to Gaya.
We got up, crammed the last minute things into our bags and called for some room service. We gulped down tea, toast and porridge, loaded on the packs and headed down. One of the hotel boys got us a cycle rickshaw and we headed to the station.

I am still continually astounded by the constant, ceaseless, crazy traffic. We got to the station and a man directed us to the departure platforms. We went to the inquiry desk, who sent us to the booking office - we hadn't been assigned our seats when we booked so we needed to get them before boarding. We are traveling in 2 tier AC sleeper (our trip is 28 hours!)

We are in bunk 1 and 3 - which means that we are in the bottom two bunks in the first compartment of the car. During the day, the beds fold up to create a bench seat and there is a small table against the window between the seats. The seating chart indicated that there was one person in one of the bunks above us but when the train left the station, we were still alone. We figured they may be boarding at some later point in the trip.

The train pulled out of the station at 11:13 am and we were set to arrive in Gaya late afternoon the next day. Train rides are generally uneventful. Chugging along through the countryside, watching the scenery change. Stopping at occasional towns and villages to load and unload passengers and mail and cargo.

Some stops are longer, giving enough time for Wallas to jump on the train and sell snacks or newspapers or whatever else people may want to buy. The stops also give Brad enough time to jump off and enjoy a chai. One person he was chatting with while having a tea was riding in our car and had noticed him doing some yoga in our compartment. He asked about yoga and travels. His name was Vijay (a common name I guess) and he was traveling to a conference. He has three children who live in all different parts of the world - one son is a surgeon, one son is a manager and he also has a daughter. He told Brad he was a little saddened that they had all decided to leave India since he had chosen to stay and build his business here. He owns a car part manufacturing facility. He also travels quite extensively with his wife and three other couples. They have future plans to visit North America and Australia as well. He made an interesting comment - his English was quite good and he felt that English was the unifying language for India. There are so many dialecs that the only commonly spoken language in English - even more than Hindi.

Something that you have to get used to here is that it is not considered impolite to stare at someone. Another person Brad met in the car came and sat with us for awhile trying to carry on a conversation in broken English. (Side note - when people want to speak to us, they speak to Brad since he is the man. It can be annoying for a strong-minded, independent female but, at the same time, it does allow me to sit back and observe.) Anyway, the conversation sort of died out and Brad started reading. I was doing Suduko (very addictive). He just kept sitting there staring. I'm sure he was harmless but it was a bit creepy. He eventually left and went back to his seat but then he kept reappearing. I closed the curtain on our berth, hoping he'd get the idea. Since we were in the first berth next to the entry for the car, there was a great deal of traffic going by and our curtain didn't close all the way. I started to get annoyed with everyone (not just this guy) looking in - human nature I guess. For awhile he even sat in the seat across the aisle from us like some lost puppy that wouldn't go home. I eventually rigged it up so that the curtain would close with the latch on the bench seat and he went away. I am trying to practice patience and tolerance but I was tired and really just tired of being a display (being famous must be exhausting!)

We set up the bedding and settled in to sleep. It wasn't the most restful sleep but we definitely got more sleep than we had on any of the overnight buses. All the stops meant alot of coming and going and made for a long night sprinkled with intermittent power naps.