Foot Sore & Fancy Free

That time again...

2011-05-12T20:05:00.000+02:00

Another year gone by and surprise surprise it's marking time! Here I sit beside a pile of almost 200 tests and with procrastination in full swing I went on a merry 'research' dance after Fairy Party inspirations online (Thandi turns 4 in a few weeks :). Which lead me to http://www.kellehampton.com/2010/01/nella-cordelia-birth-story.html ... wow, what a blog! It reminded me that I too once blogged. So I came to pay this dusty old digital journal a nostalgic visit. Clicking on my Photos link took me on a whirlwind tour of India, Afghanistan, Copenhagen, Paris, Japan, the Transkei...I barely know myself in those exotic places looking so fresh-faced, so child-free! And now, for the first time in (can it only be?!) 4 years, I look forward to an international jaunt. J and I married 10 years this year and off to Venice, Istanbul, the Greek Isles...sans the monkeys. Excitement. Yes! And for the first time ever I find myself hesitant when on the verge of leaving. Because those very monkeys that made my blood boil this evening as they ran amok and refused all enticements to bath, are my very breath, my every heartbeat.

15 to go

2010-05-14T11:14:00.002+02:00

That's how many papers I have left to mark and then I'm done. Yay. Oh how I loathe marking -- Love teaching. Loathe marking. It's still stormy as all hell and the house is leaking everywhere, so in between mopping up and eating chocolate I'm not sure I'll be able to finish this stack before 12 when the little people take over. Bless their lovely teacher for keeping them entertained for 3 hours every morning. Not sure how I managed before!

I'm Back

2010-05-11T21:16:00.002+02:00

Thanks to my Yummy Mummy Bookclub (we cook and we write, yes, we ROCK) I feel inspired to write again. Unfortunately it's already 9:24pm. That means 30 minutes till lights out or I'll surely turn into the nastiest mother ever come morning. Why are my Terrible Two (there are two of them and they are both two...it's worse than your wildest imaginings) waking at a horrible predawn hour while the storm rages outside? Surely any mammal would cling to sleep and the warmth of its nest for as long as possible? We're on Day Three of vicious winds, rain and cold. It would be fun if it didn't mean snot noses and ripping the house and their sibling to shreds. The light at the end of my dark tunnel -- spa day! I can't tell you the thrill that runs through me at the thought of it. Come Saturday I will be child-free and blissssssssssssssed out. I'm hoping this sufficiently restores me from the horrors of moving, renovating, family and playschool drama to see me through another few months of my young children's lives. Watch this space....

Motherhood

2007-08-31T13:11:00.000+02:00

Oh my word! Can I believe my eyes...I am actually typing. Have not been able to write a thing on this blog for ages.
Well, seize the day!
Thandi has been with us for 2 and a half months.
She is getting cuter by the second at this point and already it all seems worthwhile.
I'm almost 5 months pregnant (baby due early February 2008). I look and feel very pregnant. Sometimes I love it, but sometimes the aches and pains get in the way.
It's spring!
Honestly we didn't have much of a winter, but still, I love the coming of summer and here we are on the beach for crying out loud. So lucky! Thandi and I walked on the boardwalk and up over the dunes yesterday spotting fabulous birds in the bush. Amazing.
My life has changed BIG time. I'm getting into the groove though. I've accepted that I will never ever again have a shower without hearing the baby cry. It's this bizarre psychic thing that babies have -- if mom has finally found a moment to bathe/lie down/eat...uh-uh, forget about it. At first I really struggled with being 'on duty' 24/7. When J got home in the evenings I handed Thandi over and retreated into the bedroom for some me-time. I felt angry. Impatient. Tired. I think that being in the throes of first trimester pregnancy didn't help at all!
By 2 months Thandi became more a delight than hard work. The smiles...oh those precious smiles. They really do make it all worth while. It's doesn't hurt that she is the sweetest thing and has been sleeping through the night every night from 2 months. We've had a bit of a battle with her skin and think it's an allergy to formula (I spit the word!). We're trying a frightfully expensive imported German goat's milk one now in combination with homeopathy and gemotherapy. We shall see....
Looking forward to our trip to Pretoria next week. It was so wonderful when we went up for Thandi's Naming Ceremony. Everyone really took her into their hearts and we were deeply moved. It's also incredibly wonderful to have a few extra helping hands. At this point it's just me and her and J after hours.
Last night she was snuggling on my big baby bump, ear to belly, when suddenly she smiled a secret smile. I think she and her sibling are colluding already!

I have not forgotten about my blog, I just can't manage to do anything...except this title?! Visit me on Facebook!

2007-07-18T15:39:00.000+02:00

Babymoon

2007-07-03T08:28:00.000+02:00

Not unlike a honeymoon really --- the world drops away to the exclusion of one other. And it's not all wine and roses as you come to the deep realisation that this other is forever. Oh my word, you know how people are always saying 'children are hard work.' It's true! Every 2 to 3 hours she needs to be fed, burped and changed. Easy to say, not so easy to do. She has a great appetite but is really gassy, so burping is essential and very time consuming. I already feel like I'm changed more nappies than is humanly possible. There's one other thing: babies cry. Duh. They REALLY cry. And it can make you feel desperate. I always thought people overreacted to their crying babies. That's because their babies weren't mine. It's a fact that blood pressure rises in the presence of a crying baby. It's also true that you'll do anything to make it stop. Which may include throwing all your carefully considered principles to the wind. Eg. I am now the world's foremost lover of the dummy. Sometimes it's the only thing to help you get through the night.
So, basically I'm more grateful for J than I've ever been, I call on all angels and powers that be frequently and I feel like a solid 8 hour sleep will never ever come my way again.
All advice and prayers gratefully accepted.

Newborn Parents

2007-06-27T12:56:00.000+02:00

Yesterday was amazing. After meeting our social worker at the court and rustling someone up to place the baby with us (she's not legally adopted...yet), which was no mean feat since the woman who was supposed to do the deed was outside toi-toing, we whizzed off to the hospital, dressed her up and brought her home.
It was wonderful!!!! She slept snugly in her car seat the whole way and settled right in to life by the sea. I think the massive white noise generator outside (aka the ocean) lulled her into a solid and lengthy afternoon nap. We are pleased as punch having her home. She's really good and sweet. She went to sleep at 9:30 last night and only woke up twice before 7 this morning. Nevertheless, I'm so tired. The emotional taking its toll on the physical no doubt.
J and her are napping now.
My turn next.
Thank goodness J has taken a week off and can help me get into the groove of babycare.
Sjoe. It's a big job people.
But absolutely wonderful :)

PS> Photos posted on Facebook

She's coming home!!!!!

2007-06-25T19:59:00.000+02:00

I am exhausted... I must be a new mom or something!
I've been camping out at Frere Hospital since Friday. There are a few premies in incubators and newborns in the ward. It's been amazing getting to know our girl. She's really blossoming under all the love and attention we're showering on her. She smiled at J yesterday and I was a teensy bit jealous until she laughed for me a couple of minutes later! The pic shows us in our favourite position. It absolutely melts my heart when she snuggles up to me like this. It is quite simply the best feeling in the world.
Of course it hasn't all been warm fuzzies. She got diarrhea on Saturday and I've been sooooo worried. I suppose that feeling won't subside for the next 18 or more years, so I'd better get used to it!
When I'm not attending to her, I comfort the other babies. They see their mom's every 3 hours for feeding. Except for a little boy who was born yesterday and is also up for adoption. He's 24 hours old and weighs a lot more than our little not quite 3 week old doll. She really is tiny. Not 3 kgs yet! To give the non-parents or non-metric-parents out there an idea of what that means...average birth weight is 3 kgs. So she's really tiny. A nurse told me today: 'She's tiny and cute, like you!' Nurses have said a lot to me these past few days -- everything from 'you're spoiling her' (this because she was crying with a nappy full of diarrhea when I came in one afternoon -- I was really upset) to 'she knows someone's there for her now.' I prefer to believe the latter and can't wait to bring her home and SPOIL her rotten!
The doc gave the all clear today and tomorrow we have a court date and then......then she comes home. This makes me happier than anything ever has and more overwhelmed than I knew it was possible to feel.
The adventure begins.

PS> She has no name. Help! We need suggestions please. Xhosa preferably. So far I've just been calling her Angel.

LOVE

2007-06-22T12:25:00.000+02:00

We were so nervous as we approached her crib at the hospital yesterday...until we laid eyes on her. She is pure heaven. We just stroked her and couldn't take our teary eyes off of her. We told the social worker that we wanted to take her home... NOW.
Unfortunately there's a massive strike on the go in South Africa, which means that there's no birth certificate yet and the Department of Home Affairs won't issue any. That's the first hiccup. Once we have proof that she was indeed born on the 6th of June at 4pm, our social worker can then take her case to court. We've asked to be a Place of Safety for her, since that's a much speedier process than full out adoption. The social worker has to try and track down the birth mother and get her to sign the official papers, even though she clearly stated that she wants the baby put up for adoption. There is then a 60 day period in which the mother can change her mind. We are also still waiting for all her test results, though a healthier looking baby I never did see.
I spent all night dreaming about her and all morning holding her and getting to understand her language. So far there seem to be only 2 things she sees fit to communicate: my nappy needs to be changed and I'm hungry.
She is so lovely.
Can't wait to go back.
J and I will bath her this evening.

HOPE

2007-06-20T10:29:00.001+02:00

After e-mailing and phoning every home for abandoned and orphaned babies in the area and further afield, I realised that J and I might be waiting for longer than the stats make it seem possible for our baby girl. Until 5 minutes ago.
To say that I'm bursting with joy and excitement doesn't even come close.
Nothing's for certain yet, but there's a 2 week old baby girl abandoned at a local hospital.
We'll meet her tomorrow.
:) :) :)

Why I'm so happy...

2007-06-07T15:30:00.000+02:00

It is truly the most beautiful day in living memory. The ocean is every kind of blue and the sky is sparkly. I think I must be feeling better!
And I've just subscribed to a weekly newsletter all about the AMAZING wonderful fabulous things that are happening in South Africa. Do likewise and counter every whiny South African you meet with a barrage of positivity! I dare you!
I'm also a new member of the latest cyber-trend Facebook. It's fun :)

Sick puppy

2007-06-05T10:34:00.000+02:00

We have a sweeeeeet new home.
Unfortunately, the very day that my mom arrived (last Tuesday), I fell ill. And boy oh boy, am I ill!
At least we had half a day of fun -- ate a scrumptious lunch with dramatic view at La Terrazza, then rushed off for our playdate with Sihle and Inathi. Angie was a wealth of information about adoption etc.
That night I was struck down with a hideously sore throat.
The next day we had to pack up and say our teary goodbyes to Sihle. Thursday was the big move. I tried my best, but I felt/feel awful!
Ah well, at least I get to wake up coughing in paradise. Snapshot's of mom and me on our balcony.

Divine Coincidences

2007-05-25T11:42:00.000+02:00

I've had such an incredible week. I'm not going to bore you with a long list of extraordinary occurences, because many of them require too much backstory and are probably much like dreams, far more captivating to the dreamer than anyone else.
But here's a pretty impressive little anecdote:
I went to see 'Conversations with God' on Tuesday, a film adaptation of Neale Donald Walsch's story and in it he says that God speaks to us in "coincidences." The very next day I discovered Vincent library, which I've literally driven past every day since we got here at the beginning of April, but had never seen before. I walked in and picked up 'Thicker than Water: South African Adoption Stories' which happens to be edited by my friend Arthur's girlfriend and contains a chapter by his sister. Wait, it gets better. I read it in one sitting and, unlike all the many other books on adoption I've read, it inspires me and reminds me why we want to do this and what an amazing country we live in.
Which brings me to yesterday.
I've been picking Sihle up from creche for about 2 months now, but yesterday was the first time I saw Inathi, a gorgeous little 2 year old girl. Her mom, Angie, arrived at the same time and we chatted. I felt like we connected instantly and we quickly exchanged numbers and planned to get together soon.
When I got home I picked up 'Thicker than Water' and realised that one of the chapters I'd read the day before was about Inathi and Angie!
Come on!
Incredible hey.
I feel like I've made my first (adult) friend in East London, a woman whose youngest child is 30, but who together with her husband opened their home as a 'place of safety' and so ended up adopting this lovely girl.
Thanks angels.

Decisions Decisions

2007-05-22T11:04:00.004+02:00

Do you think that God speaks to us through TV?
I just finished reading Nora Ephron’s ‘I Feel Bad About My Neck’ and now she’s on Oprah talking about it. Weird hey.
All I’ve been doing lately is reading books about Adoption (sobering) and Child Care (overwhelming), so when I picked up the Ephron at the library and happened to open it on her chapter about parenting (succinct, brilliant), I was sold.

In between deciding whether I should use disposables or cloth nappies (I’m going with cloth, because I love the earth and my baby’s developing genitals…do yourself a favour and read this), breast feed or bottle (obviously breast, but it’s a ‘little’ more complicated with an adopted baby, but will give it a bash), co-sleep or control cry (3 in the bed and the little one said: ‘roll over, roll over’), 100% cotton or adorable polyester, soft-as-a-baby’s-bottom, winter babygrows (unfortunately cotton all the way), to immunise or not to immunise (it's the law but WHY?!) I’ve had a chance to play mommy with our 2 year old neighbour Sihle. After reading the Supernanny book I realised why my attempts at dealing with Japanese kids was a woeful failure from start to finish. I LOVE Supernanny. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, she’s on BBC Prime, she rocks. She walks into a nightmare home where toddlers run rampage and turns things right side up in a week. A week! I LOVE her. I think she should be required to spend a week with every family on the planet. So, I’ve been watching how I naturally get it all wrong, but that when I catch myself and employ her techniques, things definitely go more smoothly. J and I took Sihle to the zoo on Sunday. It was an absolute delight from start to finish. A definite highlight was the chimp who comically caught peanuts in his mouth and spat the shells out with great aplomb. Sihle naturally found this utterly hilarious. When I showed him the video clip a couple of minutes ago he canned himself all over again. The highlight of the day was getting home as some nasty weather rolled in and having him fall asleep in my arms.

Is there anything better in the whole wide world than holding a sleeping child?
Deep peace and relaxation.
Which reminds me: Natalie, my lifelong friend and mommy of 3, gave me some great reassurance by saying that all the books she read flew straight out the window when she held her babies in her arms.

sigh of relief ;)

As for that nasty weather. Quite spectacular! A storm raged for 24 hours and the sea is still pounding away furiously. It's freezing cold and as all my grandparents (I'm lucky enough to have 3 living grandparents) have phoned to tell me, SNOWING. Well, not quite, but a little bit sleety from time to time. Thank heavens for my New York jacket.
So much for our endless summer.

Exciting Stuff!

2007-05-17T08:12:00.001+02:00

All the news that's fit to blog...

We have a fab new spot to call home from the 1st of June. Right on the beach in Gonubie, which is officially on the Wild Coast. Yippee! We're terribly excited to wake up and fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves and to dine with a view. Hell, even cooking and cleaning seem more palatable in that location. I plan on being very industrious, in between feeds and nappy changes, in that sunny apartment.
We will have 2 bedrooms, though only 1 bathroom and most likely a screaming baby (any day now!), still, all friends and family are very welcome.
Our first few weeks in East London we’ve been staying in a tiny garden flat in Vincent. I’ll miss my pals Pooch, Golly and Nana (Jack Russell, Collie and Chihuahua) and 3 year old sunshine Sihle (beautiful boy).

We got back from 10 days in Cape Town on Sunday. It was such a treat to hang out with our friends there. What a comfort to see familiar faces and chat chat chat.
Karin and Falk (the bride and groom) treated us to 5 nights in their Camps Bay nest with possibly the most stunning view in the whole wide world. We then had some rambunctious fun with Craig, Wendy and kids in Milnerton Ridge. As always, they gave us an incredibly warm welcome. Finally my dad treated us to 2 nights in his chic new urban hotel The Adderley in the heart of the Mother City.

All of this sprinkled with yummy lunches and dinners with my ever so clever friends, all of whom are thriving. Arthur's Electric Book Works is preparing to print their second children's book and it is gorgeous. David is making sweet sweet music. Karlien and Danie are both creative geniuses. Karlien is preparing for a solo exhibition while teaching full time at Stellenbosch University and has just published her first book, while Danie has received the prestigious Eugene Marais prize for his first volume of poetry and is writing for the swish magazine Visi while hosting a groovy show on Bush Radio! I'm really so proud of them. Also got to see some friends from Gauteng who came down for the wedding. The most lovely Liesa and Peter-John among them, who were the first to give us a gift for our daughter, which tickled us pink.

The wedding was truly beautiful. Both bride and groom looked great and we were all wrapped in warm fuzzy lovey dovey vibes. Very romantic. I've posted a few pics.
So now it's back home and honestly it's so good to be here. East London is really laid back and even Cape Town seemed too hectic after just a few weeks here.

I have to send a shout out to Bronnie who is expecting her first :) Big joy.

J and I are overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of adopting our baby daughter. Our social worker should have some profiles of little girls for us any day now.

Quite a few people have asked questions about the adoption, so here goes…
We want a little girl, as young as possible. She’ll most likely be Xhosa since that’s the ethnic majority in this area. No, we’re not infertile (or at least we have no reason to believe that we are), we just feel very strongly about wanting to adopt. In other words, we may well have biological children some time (so many people seem conerned about that, which we find a bit puzzling). Currently there are estimated to be over a million South African children orphaned by HIV/Aids alone. Since we have the privilege of being South Africans and get to be here now, it’s our big chance to jump through all the legal hoops. Yes, we’re very aware of all the many concerns surrounding adoptees, birth parents, trans-racial/cultural adoption, etc etc etc. As my friend Stella put it, I have already done enough research on adoption, baby care and parenting to earn a PhD. Despite all the intimidating aspects of parenting any child, we’re ready (at least as ready as we’ll ever be!) and very excited.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mommies out there. Especially my sweet sweet mom. Can't wait for your visit!

Freedom Day & Hogsback

2007-05-02T12:33:00.000+02:00

Fabulous fabulous weekend.

On Friday we drove way out into rural Transkei, beyond Mthatha and past a little place called Tsolo where SPW works with school kids. They put on a great show -- dancing, singing, drama, the works. It was such a pleasure to hang out with them on Freedom Day.

Then J and I spent 3 nights in Hogsback. It was beeeeeeeautiful!

We literally had every kind of weather, all of it picturesque. We stayed in fabulous cottages at The Edge, feasted and walked the magical trails to numerous waterfalls through lush indigenous forests.

We'll definitely be returning soon, a mere 140kms from East London!

AND day after tomorrow we head on down to Cape Town for 10 days all leading up to the much anticpated wedding of Karin and Falk. I feel spoilt rotten!

As usual, pics are here!

Further Adventures in the Eastern Cape

2007-04-26T11:23:00.000+02:00

In the past 2 weeks I have discovered:
*The Ann Bryant Art Museum situated in lovely grounds and housed in a charming old building staffed with delightful volunteers. We'll go to the opening of an exhibition there tonight. Although...the weather is SO gorgeous and it's tempting to spend every sunset walking on one of the many lovely beaches hereabouts.
*People tend to be excessively Christian, there is a sign on our road stating: ‘Satan, you're our weakest link. Goodbye!’ Christian centres and churches are on every corner. And everyone from realtors to aerobics instructors feel free to spread the good news. Classes at the gym often end with an admonition to ‘Stay close to God.’
*Beaches to die for, including but not limited to Cove Rock, Kidds Beach and Christmas Rock. Check out the photographic evidence here.
*I eventually tracked down an internet café where I got to help an old Xhosa man set up an e-mail account and witnessed a near murder as a French African chick egged on some dude with a monkey wrench AND a flip knife. Not wise in my humble opinion.
***By far and away the most exciting news of the week is that J and I met with Renette, a cool social worker, who is going to help us find our baby. One of our primary reasons for wanting to stay put in South Africa for a while (other than that we LOVE it, of course) is to adopt. Yes, we’re VERY excited. We have stacks of books to study and have already gathered up quite a collection of (cute) necessities, including blankies, onesies, teeny tiny socks, and other things that make the heart melt.
Watch this space…

Off to see some of the SPW projects in action tomorrow which is also Freedom Day. That means a lengthy trip into the rural Eastern Cape and much merriment I'm sure.
Then The Edge in Hogsback for a couple of nights.

East London: A coastal gem...and my new home :)

2007-04-13T16:16:00.000+02:00

On Easter Sunday J and I drove out of sleepy Pretoria at dawn, crossed the Nelson Mandela bridge in downtown Jozi and headed out across the Highveld bush. We watched the land undulate and flatten into the fields of the Free State, splashed with sunflower yellow, then crossed a few dramatic mountain ranges and descended to the Eastern Cape coast.

En route I read aloud from Gustave Flaubert’s letters and travel notes. This quote is just too perfect and sums up my headspace in India, etc:

When I think of my future (that happens rarely, for I generally think of nothing at all despite the elevated thoughts one should have in the presence of ruins!), when I ask myself: ‘What shall I do when I return? What path shall I follow?’ and the like, I am full of doubts and indecision…. However, I worry very little about any of this; I live like a plant, filling myself with sun and light, with colours and fresh air. I keep eating, so to speak; afterwards the digesting will have to be done, then the shitting; and the shit had better be good! That’s the important thing.

-Gustave Flaubert in a letter to his mother, Cairo, 5 January 1850

East London is, quite simply, lovely.

Cool old buildings and awesome sea views. Friendly people and breathtaking beaches. I’ve filled my first week with happy explorations and now have a fairly good idea of the layout of the town, which although small is complex with its two rivers, the Buffalo and Nahoon, and countless hills, valleys, bays and beaches.

I’ve been looking at property with the help of eager estate agents and on my own. I've linked a map above. I absolutely love Quigney which is on the seafront beside the heart of the city. Huge skies and sea spray. The widest streets lined with crumbling jewels. Come on developers! What’s with those hideous suburban security complexes?! Cookie cutter functional prisons crammed into little unattractive spaces. Glaring evidence of ridiculous greed.

The city beaches are utterly gorgeous. From my gym, the Virgin Active, I have the most awesome view of Eastern Beach and a bay that was crawling with playful seals this morning.
Another favourite spot is Nahoon point. Wow. Yesterday at sunset J and I stood where the oldest human footprints were found with joy in our hearts. There's a photo to comemorate the moment above. And a few more of the journey and the destination here.
We feel so lucky to be here.

How’s this – East London has one mall J Yay.
Unfortunately they’re building another in Gonubie, which was a sweet seaside town right beside East London and is currently being developed to death.
We’ve had only one rainy day, the others have been gorgeous, so it’s living up to the Sunshine Coast boast.

Strangely, I do feel like a foreigner here. Although I’ve definitely been more of an obvious outsider in places like Afghanistan and Japan. Still, people look at me oddly when I speak and I find myself fascinated by how nice everyone is. Standing next to a stranger almost always elicits random conversation. People don’t hoot or get pushy on the roads.

There are also lots more black people mixed into privileged white lives and not just as servants. In Pretoria I’d get excited when on a Sunday the racial demographic at Menlyn Mall almost nudged 50/50. Here it’s far more representative. And the people are largely Xhosa speaking with its beautiful array of click sounds. This was the birthplace of Steve Biko and his Black Consciousness movement after all and it seems like he may not have died in vain. It’s also Mandela’s home and he is currently in retirement not far from here.

We’re looking forward to exploring more of the Wild Coast this weekend and are spoiled for choice as to how best to utilise the fast approaching long weekend – magical Hogsback in the Amatola mountains, or the exquisite Tsitsikamma forest coast, or the eerily beautiful Karoo towns of Graaff-Reinet and Nieu Bethesda, or or or...

Apologies to all e-mail correspondents. The little garden flat we’re renting has no landline, so no dial-up and alas, no wireless. I’m sneaking a couple of minutes on-line at J’s office.

Easter = Kawaii

2007-04-04T20:59:00.000+02:00

I read that sunlight needs to reach the retina of the eyes in order to insure health. Shouldn't be a problem for those of us lucky enough to live in sunny South Africa...except that I wear glasses. Even if you wear contacts or sunglasses, no good. So, in a bid to feel better, I sat in the Austin Roberts Bird Sanctuary just down the road sans spectacles. Lots of blurry birdies, bokkies and bunnies. Which struck me as very seasonable, it being Easter and all! I have a very clear memory of seeing the Easter Bunny himself behind our banana tree as a child. He was very big and very pink. I was scared.
The only thing I find scary about Easter these days is how damn yummy Easter eggs are. Especially the Lindt one darling Aré gave me. That jingly bell, adorable.
Sumire, a friend from Japan, e-mailed me recently to tell me that her little daughter's first word was 'Anpanman', a popular Japanese anime character whose name means 'bean jam filled bun man.' I must say that other than cheap delicious sushi, my favourite thing about Japan was the surplus of excessive cuteness, or to put it correctly kawaii.
Some of my favourite Japanese characters:
Rilakkuma (Relax Bear), a VERY lazy bear who loves his pillow and cookies more than anything...what can I say, a bear who clearly has his priorities straight;
Nyan Nyan Nyanko (um, cats miaouw 'nyao' in Japanese, so it's a take on that), the cutest kitties ever, they are disguised as anything edible...step aside Kitty-chan (aka Hello Kitty);
Mamegoma (means 'bean sesame', but they're baby seals small enough to be kept in goldfish bowls), Sumire gave me a Mamegoma dressed as a bunny. It really doesn't get any cuter than that.
Oh and let's not forget the one, the only, Afro Ken ( a pup with a 'fro, dawg), what can I say, I literally wall papered our bedroom with him. Adorable.
Basically anything from San-X makes me "die of cuteness" (J's phrase for me in the presence of incredible cuteness, usually in baby, animal or design form).
Obviously I was hugely popular with my Japanese girl students between the ages of 3 and 13. Although kawaii is by no means limited to little girls. Which is alright by me.
Happy Easter ;)

Bizarre Ice Cream Incident

2007-04-01T21:30:00.000+02:00

I've been joining in Laughter Yoga sessions once a week with the glorious Tullio. We had first hand exposure to the founder himself, Dr. Kataria, right here in Pretoria at my mom's Yoga centre. I've got to tell you, it doesn't come easily. At least not for me. Apparently this means I'm not in touch with my Inner Child. I thought that this photo might prove otherwise! Besides which, I eat ice cream for dinner sometimes. Like tonight for instance. Unfortunately the first freezer left the ice cream dangerously mooshy, while the other froze it rock solid. So I left it on the counter with the teaspoon in it and when I came back for a sample, the icy spoon stuck to my top lip and in my fright I yanked it away and...ja. Ouch! So I'm sporting an Angelina lip which tastes salty and hampers smiling.
But that won't keep me from Laughter Yoga tomorrow!
Last week I had a breakthrough and I didn't have to fake it too much. It felt good! And according to everyone I saw afterwards, I looked good too. Bonus!
J gets back from Zambia tomorrow, though I won't see him till Friday since he has to go straight down to East London for the handover. This separation has felt endless. I appreciate e-mail SO much now that I've weathered 2 weeks with little or no communication for days on end. It seems telecommunication in Zambia is not up to scratch. Despite a fairly busy schedule involving family and friends, I've been oh-so-looooooonely.
I'm really looking forward to setting up a home for just the two of us in East London. We'll be driving down on Easter Sunday. Definitely a resurrection of sorts for us. The last time we had a home of our own was in Afghanistan which I left at the end of August and that was rather...dodgy. So this'll be splendid.

Human Rights

2007-03-22T13:27:00.000+02:00

Yesterday was Human Rights Day in South Africa and I wrote a rather bleak post in the aftermath of my parents being held at gunpoint by four robbers while visiting friends the night before. That post somehow went astray in cyberspace.
The only thing unusual about my parents' experience was that they were left unharmed.
My mom is an avid believer in A Course in Miracles and says that it got her through the ordeal not only in tact, but with something like love for her aggressors.
Of course I'm deeply grateful that my parents weren't killed and I'm so thankful for a mother who can see the bigger picture, especially in a country where negativity too often reigns supreme in the face of outrageous violent crime.
This morning I was reminded of a story that Keith told us on that incredible retreat in November.
Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len cured an entire ward of criminally insane patients in Hawaii by looking at each patient's file over a four year period and saying: "I'm sorry... I love you" over and over again. He took 100% responsibility. Please click on his name above for an inspiring interview with the man and some ideas on how to be the person you want to be and live in the world you want to live in.

Congratulations!

2007-03-15T17:12:00.000+02:00

Jason is the new Country Director for the British NGO SPW in South Africa!
I'm so happy and proud of him :)
We'll be based in the coastal town of East London for the foreseeable future. That means everyone has to come and visit us in the spectacular Eastern Cape.
Although New York is technically by the sea, this will be our first time living near a beach as a couple and for that alone I'm really excited.
For more on the programs there and what SPW's all about, click the links.
So, he's off to Zambia on Thursday for a 10 day conference and then we'll both be driving down to East London on the 2nd of April.
In the interim I'll have my hands full trying to sort out our crumbling boxes, as well as gathering up all our odds and ends.
Other good news:
My darling friend Norma is in town with her darling boyfriend. The last time we met was in London on her birthday a year and a half ago, so I'm totally thrilled to see her and have an excuse to hang out with her fabulous family.
I received my copy of Arthur's book 'uTshepo Mde: Tall Enough' yesterday and I'm so honoured that I could be a part of it. It's delightful!
I also received my invitation to a wedding that I'm almost more excited about than I was my own. Karin and Falk are tying the knot, yay :) I couldn't be happier.
That means J and I will be in the Mother City from the 4th till the 13th of May.
Hope to see our Cape Townian maatjies then.

Heal the World

2007-03-12T08:38:00.000+02:00

This weekend was hard work.
I did the preparatory course to qualify to attend the Heal HIV course with Master Del Pe in April.
I'll tell you what, his organisation presents a lot of really powerful techniques -- the Tibetan energy exercises I learnt in November and Reiki amongst others -- which are still considered 'esoteric' (ie. bogus) by many main streamers, but they do it in a really accessible way that's making a lot of people sit up and take notice. At least half the people on the course came from the medical establishment! What's more, all the training is FREEEEE.
No kidding.
I have a beautiful manual and was taught by two exceptional teachers from South America, all for free. And that's only the beginning.
I'm impressed.
If you're in South Africa check out the training schedule.
If you're tired of feeling helpless in the face of the AIDS epidemic in this country or even just wanting to bring well-being into your own life, it's an opportunity not to be missed.

Mountain High

2007-03-05T20:09:00.000+02:00

I turned 31 in the Drakensberg. It doesn't get much better than that! My main squeeze and I stayed at romantic Sungubala Mountain Camp in the Northern Drakensberg. The name translates as Dragon Mountains and it's a part if the world that's always been very close to my heart. We treated ourselves to loads of breathtaking hikes. This pic was taken on the way to the top of the famed Amphitheatre (that's The Sentinel looming over us) which is almost the highest point in South Africa and included a hair raising climb up chain ladders to the summit. We were rewarded with a view of the world's second highest waterfall at the source of the Tugela River.
I was really proud of J since he has a fear of heights and it was really very high.
We then got cosy with my in-laws in Durbs and celebrated my father-in-law's b-day too.
All in all a fabulous week.
More pics of the mountains. Got a very fancy, very intimidating Canon EOS 400D as a present from J. So intimidating that the photos I've posted on Flickr were all taken with my little Sony Cybershot. Blush.

Oink!

2007-02-18T15:53:00.000+02:00

Happy Year of the Pig!
I just got back from a Chinese New Year celebration of note at the Nan Hua Buddhist Temple near Pretoria. A little snippet of some kick-arse gumboot dancing above, bringing in the Chinese New Year South African style. These kids are incredible and make me even happier to be here now.
I realise that there's been a bit of a gap since my last post so here's a quick catch-up --
J's home and studying for his Unisa exams (his final year of Honours in Development Studies) which are at the end of the week.
Last weekend we had a bush getaway at glam Makalali (thanks Dad) where we had to smile for the cameras as extras for a promotional video and next weekend we'll be going to the Drakensberg for some 'us' time and to celebrate my 31st in the gorgeous mountains. Then down to Durbs for a rendezvous with J's family.
The past 2 weeks have been packed with friends, family and movies! So many movies to see, so little time. Loved 'Fur', hated 'Volver', so clearly I'm completely out of sync with the Academy. Ah me.
V-day was just perfect, because I had my hubby here with me in the flesh and he spoiled me rotten.
Otherwise I've been getting back to my Pilates classes at the gym, keeping up the beautiful practices I learned in India and slowly digesting my journey.
I can't say for sure yet, but it looks like we will finally have our wish and get to stay in South Africa. It's exciting, but I'm not at liberty to spill any beans just yet.
In the meantime...happiness.

India Pics

2007-02-04T17:55:00.000+02:00

I've uploaded a bunch of pics from my travels all over South India and the Andaman Islands.
Don't get me started on how devastated I am because one of my cd's containing all my photos of Mamallapuram, Pondicherry and Tiruvanamallai cracked during transit. No backup. Sob.

The sweetness of Home

2007-02-04T09:30:00.000+02:00

It's balmy and beautifully green in South Africa. I'm gorging myself on fruit and trying to get used to rinsing my toothbrush under the tap and having access to constant hot water. I slept like a baby after my 30 hours of travel from Bangalore via Bahrain to Johannesburg. At the airport in Bangalore, where we were delayed for an hour, ordinarily no biggie but when you had to get up at 3am somewhat irksome, the security lady told me I'm half Indian after 2 months there. I agreed, wobbling my head in turn.
Bahrain was unfortunately much like Dubai, nothing but showy souless development. So I quite happily rested in my hotel room until the next leg to Joburg which was without incident. After all that recycled air I'm sporting a sore throat and stuffy nose on top of the cystitis that's been my unwelcome travelling companion for at least 2 weeks now.
Fortunately I now have easy access to cranberry juice and my brilliant homeopath.
J gets back on Wednesday.
Life is good.

Cycles

2007-02-01T11:34:00.000+02:00

It's my third and final full moon in India, at least for now.
The first full moon saw me at Sivananda Ashram where I was given a spirtual/Hindu name -- Chamundi, meaning Demon slayer, a nickname for the Goddess Kali. Watch out world!
My second was on the magical Andaman Isles celebrating a brand spanking new year with my loved ones.
My third finds me on the eve of returning home, although this is one journey that will never end. Out of the blue I was given another name yesterday by my Russian friends here -- Charonchik! Cool, ey.
A rose by any other name... ;)
The wedding was grand. Plenty of fanfare and intricate rituals that even as they were explained to me remained completely indecipherable. I got decked out in a sari, though not the pretty one I bought because I was told it would not do for a wedding. A beautiful artist lent me a bold number and I put fresh flowers in my hair as is the custom.
After the bride and groom went through innumerable pujas, exchanges of floral wreaths, gift giving, taking of symbolic steps, the washing of feet, throwing of rice etc. etc. etc. we got to FEAST. Twenty-five dishes my friends. Twenty-five. Every one more sumptious than the last.
Tonight is my last satsang here. I'll miss the ecstatic joy of the bhajan and the presence of Sri Sri of course .
But I'm ready for the comforts of home and more to the point, the arms of my love.
Thank you India, great teacher.
I won't forget.

Indian Wedding

2007-01-31T07:02:00.000+02:00

I am blessed.
No two ways about it.
I've experienced two miraculous months in India. Everywhere I go (that's a LOT of places) miracles. Before I left South Africa I decided that I'd fly home from Bangalore, so that I could attend the Art of Living course here and randomly picked the 2nd of Feb as my departure date.
As it so happens, the wedding of the year is taking place right here on the 1st.
The celebrations began two days ago. By dint of being foreign I'm invited to all the marvelous goings on. Last night I got my hands henna-ed along with the spectacular family and guests of the bride and groom. The groom is no other than Guru-ji's nephew, so this really is an occassion.
With beautiful paisley designs on our palms we feasted on the crazy taste sensations of sweet-spicy Indian snacks (pani puri, bhel moodhi, tikiya chola, kulfi and jaman all washed down with tender coconut water sipped straight from the coconut) while shaking our shoulders to the music in the moonlight.
It's just too wonderful.
We'll be feasting today and then there'll be a huge Engagement Party this afternoon.
Tomorrow morning is the ceremony itself and I've bought a very pretty silk sari that I'll need a lot of help getting on. It's basically one very long piece of fabric. Magda, my Polish roommate, has taken it to Bangalore to get a blouse made, you know the tight little mid-riff exposing tops that are this white tummied girl's horror. My Russian roommates, Yula who speaks a little English with a fabulous thick accent and Valla who speaks to me in Russian...loudly ;), tried to wrap me up in the sari yesterday to comic ends.
Fortunately there are plenty of 'aunties' around to lend a hand.

Art of Living

2007-01-28T15:44:00.000+02:00

Wow. Where to begin?
Okay, the course.
I took part in the Art of Living Basic Course here at the main ashram outside of Bangalore. It's a 3 day residential experience, but is usually offered over a longer period of time in shorter increments at most Art of Living centres around the world.
On Day One we introduced ourselves by taking each participant's hands in ours, looking directly into one another's eyes and saying our names followed by:
"I belong to you."
It was ... incredible. The effect is completely disarming. Everyone was laughing and laughing. Most of the course participants were Indians from Bangalore and they really got a kick out of our teachers witty ways.
I was amazed at how little they know about their yogic heritage.
Most of what we learnt was old hat to me -- pranayama techniques (yogic breathing exercises) including Ujayi, Full yogic and Bastrika, with little flourishes involving arm movements thrown in for good measure. For almost everyone in attendance it was their first time controlling the breath.
This in itself is very powerful and soothing. So if you've never had exposure to yogic breathing, go for it!
We also had good chats about the Mind and its penchant for grasping onto the negative aspects of the past and future, meanwhile Life is happening NOW. To quote the teacher: 'Drop your botherations, immediately you're happy.'
Too simple?
Try it ;)

The undeniable highlight of the day and course as a whole was the Sudarshan Kriya. Kriyas are cleansing techniques and this one is done with the breath to a rhythm of So-Hum chanting. It is, to put it bluntly, better than sex. The orgasm has long been sought out for its ability to suspend time and free us from all anguish. Well, a little Sudarshan goes a long way. It quite simply puts you in touch with your Bliss.
Satsang in the evening was wonderful. Sri Sri is totally accessible. Unlike any of the other living gurus I've seen, there is no rigmarole. All are welcome and there's no security! You can take photos! You can record his words! You can ask him questions directly! All of this is incredibly wonderful.

Some words of wisdom from the guru:
'When you expect things to be perfect you get stiff and agitated.'
'When someone or something is bothering you, realise: There is no Other here. Let it be.'
'Come what may, nothing can take my smile, because Peace is my Nature.'
Good stuff.
Accompanied by the most spirited singing and dancing.

Day Two:
Early start, yoga at dawn. Their approach to asana is so refreshing -- light hearted and not at all caught up in form. Just enough to get the blood flowing and keep the body flexible. Then one of Sri Sri Ravi Shankar's beautiful meditation's. Mmm mmm mmm. A great way to start the day.
On day two we got a bit more into the philosophy that comprises this Art of Living. They turned the whole yogic non-attachment thing on its head by talking a lot about taking responsibility.
We need to stop asking 'Why why why' and start asking 'What can I do about it?'
The highlight of the day -- Guru-ji came and sat with us, he took our questions, he shared his glowing presence.
A few soundbytes from that wondrous encounter:
'Life is enthusiasm.'
'Who is in charge of your life? YOU. So make it happen. Now.'
'Accept people as they are, for your own Peace of Mind.'
'You ARE love.'
He left twirling his roses, his unforgettable smile radiating through us all.

Day Three involved practicing our techniques and discussion. Unfortunately I spent the day in an awful hospital in Bangalore.
This journey hasn't been easy, but thank goodness I can be here.
Art of Living in not cheap, but you can rest assured that your money goes to good causes. I pay Rs900 a night to stay here, all of which goes to a school fund. The room is good, Magda and I had it to ourselves for 4 nights and are now sharing with two Russian women. There are a lot of Russians here. Included in this price are the most delicious meals. Mmmm, best chai and roti ever, plus other scrumptious Indian veg food. If you're not doing a course then there aren't too many things you can attend. But you're free to wander the lovely grounds and meditate in the temples. The highlight of every day is Satsang. A joyful noise to be sure and the opportunity to learn from Sri Sri.

So what are you waiting for?

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar's Shiny Happy People

2007-01-25T06:38:00.000+02:00

For a good time...call Art of Living.
I have never in my life seen so many ecstatic people. It's like everyone here is in the first flush of romance. The simplest 'Hi' or even a mere passing glance are met with radiant smiles. People are literally dancing for joy all over the place.
I love it!
And boy did I need it after yesterday.
My 'I defy you stars' didn't turn out as badly as Romeo's, but nearly. I'm referring to my unfortunate horoscope mentioned in yesterday's post.
I spent an exhausting day in Bangalore trying to get things done while holding my breath (the pollution!). Eventually, armed with my return ticket to South Africa and a new bigger bag loaded with some pressies as well as everything else, I boarded a bus. This is never a simple undertaking in India. You have to muster every ounce of strength to elbow your way onto a vehicle that has so far exceeded its maximum number of passengers that it defies all laws of Physics.
Crushed between sarees, denim, and burqa (the front seemed reserved for women, thankfully) I answered all the usual questions: What's your name? Where are you from? Do you like India? What's your profession?
I eventually got spat out at some dusty miserable junction and was duly fleeced by an auto-rick for the remaining mileage to the ashram.
I arrived after dark, at the wrong gate. It's a big ashram and no short walk with my hideously heavy new bag. Fortunately a darling Mauritian acted as porter for part of the way and saved me from complete collapse.
I couldn't wait to get cleaned up and get to satsang which takes place from 7:30 till late in the pretty lotus shaped temple.
BUT, they don't accept credit cards and after a looooong walk back to the only ATM, it wouldn't accept my card. So I sat through the deliriously joyous satsang -- such singing and dancing even brought a smile to my weary face -- a little fretful.
After much waiting in the Finance Department I was eventually given a room and mercy of mercies, I had it to myself.
When I hit the sack at midnight I thought I'd sleep forever, but the bladder infection I've been fighting off came back to haunt me with a vengeance. So I spent a good deal of the night pacing up and down praying for relief.
Eventually nodded off only to be awakened by the arrival of a roommate -- Martha from Poland. A darling girl who arrived at about 5am.
After a yummy breakfast I too am easing into the spirit of things. I've dropped clothes off at the laundry, the first time I'm not doing my own bucket wash in 2 months!
I need to go sort out payment for the course, which starts tomorrow.
The ashram is really pretty. It rambles over hills, nestled amongst forest and the architecture is actually cute, rather than the usual kitsch supreme or just downright ugly that I've seen elsewhere.
I'm also in luck, Sri Sri himself got back yesterday so hopefully I'll be catching a glimpse of the lovely man at tonight's party...ahem...Satsang.
Tell you what, it's refreshing not to have to deal with stuck up holier-than-thou devotees. At Sai Baba's a woman in charge (one of many) yanked my hair, because it wasn't tied up?
Here, people are dressed any which way. There seem to be no Silence Laws, in fact everyone is constantly singing and laughing. It seriously is one of the happiest places on earth.
Jai Guru Dev!

Get me outta here

2007-01-24T08:04:00.000+02:00

I woke up with soot lined nostrils and a smog hangover. The newspaper's horoscope predicted a bad start. Since I've been in India I've been waking up around 5:30am. Anyone who knows me knows that this is highly out of character, but there it is. Bangalore only gets going around 10, so I decided to make a pilgrimage to the ISKCON Temple, ie. Hare Krishna central. I've always had a soft spot for the Hare Krishnas and not just because they know how to cook and dance.
The first auto-rick wanted to charge me Rs300. When he finally agreed to use the meter he told me he was just going to take me to 'a shop on the way.' I found another guy who used the meter and the trip came to Rs60.
I realise that these details of wrangling with auto-ricks must make for less than inspiring reading, but honestly in this town it's an artform.
The Hare Krishna temple was big and clean.
You'll notice that I mention cleanliness frequently, but that's only because it is a quality of great rarity.
I'm hoping to get out of this city tonight and ensconce myself in the warm glow of Sri Sri Ravishankar's Art of Living ashram.
Bangalore is doing a lot to get me ready to leave India.
Just yesterday I was thinking that I don't want to go.
I was also bemused by the thought that we spend so much time searching for the Divine outside of ourselves, when really 'all' we need to do is respect and act upon the Divinity within.

Badass Bangalore

2007-01-23T17:20:00.000+02:00

From Heaven to Hell in one 8 hour bus ride.
This morning I woke to the sounds of untainted nature and breakfasted on organic fare with the lucky few nestled in that haven, Rainforest Retreat. Leaving was difficult.
Yesterday we enjoyed an incredible trek together, up and down steep jungle ravines and through tranquil valleys. I hadn't anticipated a mountain adventure this holiday and was ill equipped -- freezing at night and no proper walking shoes. I took a nasty tumble during one slippery decent and have an assortment of scrapes and bruises to remind me that just this morning I was in a world apart.
I whiled away afternoons in the best hammock in the world. Dappled sunlight, a view of a crystal stream and exotic trees draped in orchids and vanilla vines, a good book as prop. Evenings we chatted around the fire -- a delightful couple from Whales, an Australian couple, two witty Londoners and a chap from Bangalore. Oh and the cutest kitty perched on my lap.
The owners are utterly inspiring. They offer a glimmer of hope to this pollution choked land.
And here I am in the Pollution Capital of the Universe. One of those places you prefer to suffocate rather than attempt breathing.
Funny thing, I was in Bangalore briefly a week ago en route to Sai Baba's. I stepped off the bus and was pointed in every direction by everyone, including official dudes in khaki with walky-talkies. Eventually it turned out there was no bus to Puttaparthi and after a farcical ride in an auto-rick I ended up on a train to Sai Baba.
Well, this evening was just as crazy. I discovered that last week I was ripped royally in that the train station is directly opposite the bus station, meanwhile that sly auot-rick managed to get 20 rupees out of me to get me from one to the other. Hummmph. Tonight I congratulated myself on finding a pre-paid booth. Unfortunately my driver had absolutely no idea where we were headed. I'm yet to find a single person in India who can read a map, although everyone loves to try. I'm really good with maps. In the end I got us to the Empire Hotel. It's not cheap, but it's cheaper than anything else around here. And it's clean.
I'm tired, but fortunately I've perfected the head wobble that passes as polite conversation in these parts.
Communication is always open to interpretation. An example:
'Do you burn cd's here?'
Wobble
'Yes?'
Wobble
'No?'
Wobble
And so on...
The plan is to do some shopping on MG Road tomorrow. Every single Indian town has a MG Road -- Mahatma Gandhi -- this one's supposed to be particularly impressive.

Rainforest Retreat

2007-01-21T08:44:00.000+02:00

This is an exciting day, because finally I have a post with a hyperlink! I'm off to pamper myself at the Rainforest Retreat

Misty Ghat Tops

2007-01-20T08:20:00.000+02:00

I find myself surrounded by hilly jungles, coffee & spice plantations and once again a completely different world unfolds.
I left behind the thousands of maroon clad Tibetan monks in Bylakuppe and entered the Western Ghats. It's cool and green and definitely one of the most peaceful spots in India. Last night I slept like a baby. My meals are served on a terrace overlooking a valley of rice paddies.
The staff are completely bewildered by this lone white woman and give me a lot of kind attention. I've had an informative tour of the plantation and an explanation of how it all works. I must say that everywhere I've been in South India people have been amazed that I'm travelling alone, but everywhere people have been kind.
I'm back in Madikeri, which is a quaint hilltop town, just to check e-mail and visit a few sights.
Hopefully I'll get a bit of trekking in too, though at the moment I'm enjoying unwinding after the frenetic pace of this past week.

Tibetan Buddhist Haven

2007-01-18T10:40:00.000+02:00

As I walked down a street in Mysore a tiny girl came running with a wide smile and offered me a little branch bearing what I think were green chickpeas. This sweet gesture encapsulated the Mysorian warmth that so touched my heart. I bade farewell and boarded a bus to Bylakuppe.
The road is undergoing some serious repair and it was a bumpy 3 hour ride. I eventually arrived in what felt like the middle of nowhere after dark and not a light in sight. I sat down and felt a bit wretched. Tired, hungry, run down, with nowhere to go.
Then I spotted a Western woman and monk. They were buying chocolate cake from a candlelit roadside stall.
I quickly approached them and immediately felt embraced by their good humour and kindness. The Universe certainly provides. They explained that in fact there is nowhere to stay in Bylakuppe...this may be why the Lonely Planet fails to mention it! While Bylakuppe is home to many monasteries and Tibetan refugees, the Indian government makes it near impossible for foreigners to stay here. A permit is required and can take 4 months to secure.
However, given the lateness of the hour and the desperation in my tired face, they kindly offered to house me at the monastery's guesthouse.
The Dalai Lama and Richard Gere had been visiting the previous week and everything looks great. No rubbish, lots of maroon clad monks, including hordes of little ones who give the sweetest smiles I've ever seen.
I woke at 5am to join them in the temple for chanting. It was so delightful to watch these tiny boys singing their hearts out. I've also learnt a bit about the different Buddhist sects, what a day-in-the-life of a monk is like and am currently at the Golden Temple which is quite spectacular.
I honestly feel a world away from India.

Magical Mysore

2007-01-17T09:37:00.000+02:00

I met a wonderful Scottish woman en route from Puttaparthi to Mysore yesterday. We chatted non-stop and felt like long-lost friends. I love the way travel throws you together with soulmates at every turn. You meet for a brief moment in time and then part, often never to meet again, but their influence lingers.
I like Mysore. It's much cleaner and more 'civilized' than other Indian cities. Sure, there are cows in the streets, but these cows are painted neon yellow! Apparently its in celebration of Pongal. Really surreal.
There are some lovely buildings, not the least of which is the Palace which is very grand and quite over the top.
I went up Chamundi Hill today to visit my temple (I was given the name Chamundi at Sivananda Ashram). Good view and lots of really friendly Mysorians and pilgrims from everywhere. I shook more hands than the Queen and posed for endless photos.
All good fun.
Ate an exceptionally good meal with the best service ever then slept in a quiet (!) clean (!!) mosquito free (!!!) room last night.
I like the vibe here, people are friendly and even a little genteel.
I'm off to the largest Tibetan refugee settlement next -- Bylakuppe. I hope to chill out to the sound of Buddhist monks chanting.

Chez Sai Baba

2007-01-15T06:11:00.000+02:00

I was in Tiruvannamalai for one night and absolutely loving it.
The people were friendly, the surrounding countryside pretty and almost rubbish free. I had a room with a terrace overlooking the sacred mountain and magnificent Hindu temple.
Woke up at dawn and did some yoga, climbed the mountain and visited the caves where Sri Ramana Maharishi meditated for 20 years. Lovely lovely lovely.
Could have stayed there for a looooooong time.
But then I heard that Sai Baba was going to be leaving his Puttaparthi ashram for Chennai in the next day or so and since I have absolutely no desire to return to Chennai, but wanted to see the legend in the flesh, I decided to board a 5 hour bus and 3 hour train for Puttaparthi yesterday. Got in really late, really tired and had the same problem sleeping as elsewhere. It seems that hoteliers (granted I use the term loosely) haven't noticed the mosquito plague that prevents a decent night's sleep. A simple mossie net works wonders. Since that's wishful thinking I usually have to sleep with the fan on, which I really don't like doing at the best of times, to try and intercept the mosquito flight patterns. Still, despite the fan and the mossie spray, not much sleep.
Then up at 5am this morning to join in the fun at Sai Baba's ashram.
I'm afraid that all the pushing and shoving while sleep deprived didn't go down too well. It started with a circumnambulation around the sizeable and 100% kitsch ashram. Sounds simple, but with the masses and masses of people it's a highly organised and fairly unpleasant experience.
Since I didn't manage to eat dinner last night, I was starving. I had to endure a bit more push-&-shove to get some meal tickets and then got crammed into a massive hall for Darshan.
The hall is like a fantasy gone wrong -- it drips with gold paint, red chinese lanterns, chandeliers and tinsel. I couldn't make this up if I tried.
But wait, it gets better. After quite a long wait wedged uncomforatbly between the saris on the cold hard floor, a parade of guys waving flags entered followed by a marching band. Yes, a marching band!
I'm afraid the whole thing just came across as a circus.
Then Sai Baba made his entrance in a car. The crowd went wild.
I think you'd have to be VERY dedicated to feel any hint of spirituality in that mob.
Then there were some speeches and prize givings and when I got sufficiently achey in the rear end and generally fed up, I left.
It's Pongal, a big celebration marking the change in direction of the sun and the start of a new year. Maybe the ashram is a little more manageable at other times, but I have my doubts.
Sai Ram!

Pondi Reverie

2007-01-12T07:16:00.000+02:00

It's my last day in Pondicherry.
I feel a little bit sad about leaving, mostly because I won't be able to bathe in the radiance of the Samadhi shrine so readily.
Last night the group meditation was held at The Playground. The Mother believed in physical fitness and this building is devoted to sports and exercise. I got a peek at the odd military style regime. Everyone is dressed in shorts (yes, even girls! Totally scandalous!)and the women wear peculiar white head wraps. They march up and down in formation and do a series of mechanical exercises while someone barks unintelligibly in French. Strangely, yoga asana don't seem to come into play at all in this ashram.
When they were done we sat in the sandy courtyard, which is a whole lot more comfortable than the Samadhi courtyard. There's a big controversial mural of India on one wall (it includes Pakistan and even Myanmar?) with the Mother's chair beneath it. She and Sri Aurobindo were very much engaged in politics and believers in an independent united India. Then, as I settled into the peace of meditation, loud organ music started up. I believe it is music composed by the Mother heself. Suprisingly, it was a wonderful meditation.
I rode home on the cycle-rickshaw like a Queen, feeling like the happiest person alive.
It's winter here, even though it feels about 30 most days. So many of the locals wear balaclavas which I suppose can serve a dual purpose of keeping the stink out. The 'river' that flows next to my guest house really reeks, especially at night. I go to sleep and wake up to the sounds of the slum next door. An old woman with a particularly grating voice always seems to be enraged by something.
I had to use a public loo with a few of these resilient old ladies camped outside. Their few remaining teeth stained red from chewing paan & betel, they held out flower chains and called 'Madame! Madame!' For a rupee I bought a beautiful daisy chain which they put in my hair.
This was one of the most delightful moments of my life. Outside a stinky loo surrounded by poverty there was only laughter.
I then watched the jaunty temple elephant, painted gaily, lifting his feet in a little dance and accepting offerings in return for a blessing from his trunk.
Au Revoir Pondy!

Beep Beeeeeeep

2007-01-11T07:57:00.000+02:00

There's only one traffic rule here and that's: Hoot as loudly as possible at all times.
There are hardly any stop signs or robots and even if there are, no one pays any attention. There's a vague thing about driving on the left side of the road, but it's merely a suggestion judging from the reality.
So people hoot every time they near an intersection or turn a corner, this takes the place of stopping or even slowing down and I've never once seen anyone look left or right.
I've decided to support the dying art of cycle-rickshaws. They're beautiful and gentle on the Earth. Auto-rickshaws are noisy, smoggy and the drivers love to rip you off. The cycle-rickshaws are pedalled by old, boney, often boozey men who ask a mere pittance for a very difficult job. I absolutely love them.
Even as I fear for their twiggy legs I rejoice in the slower, quieter way of life.
I met a guy yesterday who said it feels like the auto-ricks are inside his head. And I know just what he means.
I look forward to staying at Auroville, if I can find a bed. It's high season. I enjoyed my trip there yesterday, but outside visitors are very limited in their access. Still, it's calm and green.
Looks like a good place to relax. I've walked myself to a standstill and feel pretty rundown.
I'll be in Pondi for another 2 nights.
It's been good. I am greeted 'Bonjour Madame' wherever I go and on the 2 occassions I've eaten at restaurants I felt like I was in France. Tres bizarre.
And of course there's the Samadhi which is an absolute balm.

There's something about Aurobindo...

2007-01-10T06:55:00.000+02:00

I've only been here for a short while, but there's something very captivating about this experience.
Yesterday I went on a tour of the Ashram Departments which are many and varied, everything from weaving to Ayurvedic medicine. It was me and a bunch of friendly Indian families.
It's hard to tell, since the ashram is scattered and has no real scheduled group time, except for meals which are also open to those outside the ashram and an evening meditation which is, like everything else, completely up to the individual to attend. Judging from these occassions most of the ashramites are Indian, there's a mere smattering of foreigners and most are older. In other words, a completely different demographic from the singles scene at Sivananda ashram in Kerala.
What I'm finding most interesting is that although the only scheduled 'spiritual' activity I'm engaging in is the evening meditation, I find myself in such an incredible space, far more meditative than the 24/7 ashram immersion I experienced previously.
Part of this might have to do with the fact that I'm on my own and for all intents and purposes on a silent retreat as I only really talk to the occasional staff member to request a mosquito net (hallelujah! I have 40 mossie bites on my right hand alone! 40!) or some such thing.
But mostly it has to do with the Samadhi shrine.
I'll try to explain.
One of the Ashram's buildings used to house Sri Aurobindo and the Mother when they were living and its pretty open courtyard now holds their remains beneath a huge acacia tree.
But there's something more to it than a lovely flower festooned shrine.
The minute you walk into that courtyard the atmosphere changes. I can only describe it as being under water. Very quiet (and this with a constant stream of people coming to pay their respects), difficult to breathe, near impossible to think. It's like an instant deep meditation. I go as often as possible and leave unwillingly.
I'm currently reading a biography on the Mother, a French woman of Turkish-Egyptian parents who was married to the Impressionist Henri Morisset.
She lead a remarkable life by anyone's standards and I feel a very strong kinship with her, since we share many life events -- from a birthday (well almost) to living in Japan to memories of being drawn into deep spiritual contemplation at the age of 4.
I also really appreciate the rational dogma/ritual free approach to spirituality.
There's no chanting, no dress code, none of the Hinduism that's usually part of an ashram.
Sri Aurobindo said: 'This ashram was created with another object than that ordinarily common to such institutions, not for the renunciation of the world but as a centre and a field of practice for the evolution of another kind and form of life which would in the end be moved by a higher spiritual consciousness and embody greater life of the spirit.'
This has been my experience.
I am impressed, at the deepest meaning of the word.
The Mother put it this way:
'Once the union with the Supreme is realised, one must bring down that realisation to the external world and change the conditions of life upon earth until a total transformation is accomplished. In accordance with this aim, the Sadhaks (devotees) of integral Yoga do not retire from the world to lead a life of contemplation and meditation.'
For those of us (me!) who love to escape reality, this is a toughie.
For those who call for a more proactive engagement with the World (my wonderful hubby :), here it is.
I plan on visiting Auroville, the community established by the Mother, this afternoon.

Pondicherry

2007-01-08T17:26:00.000+02:00

Let me cast my mind back.
Unbelievably it has only been 2 days since my last post.
This just goes to show that time is irrelevant, because over the past 48hours I've had enough going on externally and internally to fill several books.
Here's the abridged version (specifically for my hubby and parents who think I should just 'go home' ;).
So, I left you in Chennai. I passed an uneventful evening in my grimey hotel washing clothes in a dank and altogether nasty bathroom before dining on a packet of salted peanuts saved from my flight over a month ago.
I fell asleep in front of the TV (hadn't seen one in quite a while, hopefully won't see another for some time to come).
Woke up early and breakfasted with a mustachioed mob on idlis (fermented rice UFOs) and dosa (huge crispy lentil flour crepes) both served with coconut chutney and sambhar.
Felt quite at home, in the Afghanistan sense, in that I was the only woman eating out and kept myself entertained by trying to spot a man without a mustache (zero).
Also felt a tinge of empathy for the Indian male who is not allowed to look at or speak to a foreign woman without being suspected of sexual harrassment.
Then caught an auto-rick to the bus station and the world's chattiest driver insisted on covering every topic from Saddam's execution (bad) to cricket (good) and this with a difficult to understand accent at the best of times never mind over the noise of the auto-rick and all of Chennai.
Ended up on a bus to Mamallapuram that was clearly NOT the express, but had a seat and watched the fairly dry and flat Tamil Nadu landscape break free of the clutches of Chennai.
Eventually landed up in the really friendly ancient sculpted/sculpting town of Mamallapuram. Found a pretty room which turned out to be a mosquito infested nightmare... and I have the itchy bites to prove it.
Took in a LOT of really really really old temples, quite lovely, positioned on rocky hilltops with good views of the sea and such.
Was feeling very 'A Passage to India' wandering about in the burning sun, posing for dozens of Indian family photos and resting my eyes on the sensuous curves of 7th Century sculpture.
Met a sweet young man, sculptor in training like most in that dinky town.
He took me to meet his teacher and I bought quite a lot of little bits and pieces that I think are charming. Well, you'd think I was Santa Claus. These guys were SO thrilled. They thanked me endlessly and gifted me with pretty om necklaces. Apparently I'm helping fund 15 sculpture students.
So we parted ways grinning.
It really is a friendly town, with some lovely little restaurants. I particularly enjoyed a French bistro called 'Nautilus.' The locals all seem to have a naughty sense of humour and ready smiles. I appreciated this doubly after the Andamanese dourness.
The beach is wide and a bit grubby, a fishing beach primarily, but it does have the Shore Temple which is just so pretty and ancient.
That evening I went to watch the Dance Festival which happens only in January and gathers together Tamil Nadus finest Bharata Natyam dancers. This is the oldest form of dance in India and it's just gorgeous. I actually happened to pick up a novel about it en route to India which my mom and dad also read -- 'Shiva's Fire'.
I also had the good fortune of sitting next to a knowledgable Swiss fan who has been following this particular art for over 30 years.
It was interesting to hear from him how rapidly India has been transformed. He says that Chennai used to be a sleepy town with very few vehicles. Unimaginable.
Also, that rubbish, heaps of which litter absolutely every roadside and just about every surface now, was not noticeable because most of it was biodegradable. Chai served in clay cups, food wrapped in leaves and such. Now it's plastic crap everywhere. A total disaster.The price paid for India's new wealth. Though honestly the vast majority seem to be poorer than poor.
After an early breakfast this morning, which I shared with an unfortunate German father and son who had spent there 5 days in Mamallapuram in the bathroom, I took a leisurely walk to the bus station. I passed grannies and babies creating the intricate rice flour patterns that adorn thresholds to invite good luck and stave off the evil eye. It was all too lovely.
And then I got to watch the rag pickers fighting over scraps of food under the fly infested bus shelter.
Pondicherry.
No room at the inn.
I had hoped to stay at one of Aurobindo Ashrams many affiliated guesthouses.
It's not a typical ashram, rather a conglomerate of buildings scattered all over Pondi most of which house different services to the community, eg. School for Perfect Eyesight. There's no schedule, no demands, no rituals, nothing.
So the kindly man at the Info Centre gave me a meal coupon (20 rupees -- less than 50 US cents -- buys 3 hearty meals a day) and said he'd hold onto my backpack until I found something.
I enjoyed my meal, mostly because it was quiet, clean and in a lovely old French building with lofty doorways and high ceilings.
Then I traipsed around Pondi. An interesting thing, it's the only place I've been to in India where you can actually forget you're in India, granted only for a few minutes at a time and only on the 3 or so streets that run parallel to the seafront.
This is the old French Pondi. It's shady and pretty and the domain of exclusive hotels and expat abodes. When you cross the canal you're thrown brutally back into India. Is it just the contrast that makes it seem so...cruel? Or is it the ashram and all the charitable services it provides that draws the most wretched of the poor?
I had to step over a mangled old woman who I really couldn't believe was still alive. Lots of toothless pavement dwellers and gut wrenching attacks on the senses and soul that are just 100% India.
After walking walking and walking I stumbled into the Samadhi shrine to The Mother and Aurobindo, founders of the ashram. Well. Knocked my socks off and more importantly, knocked every thought out of my head.
I just stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Such a pervasive and beautiful energy. I sat there for a while and sent out a little call for help.
Returned to the Info Centre having decided that I could still make it to Auroville and hopefully find a bed for the night.
A beaming guy told me that Mother had kept a room for me. What?
And as I sat there the phone kept ringing and people kept coming in, all turned away, many of them have been waiting for days.
I not only have a bed, but 3 and its spotlessly clean, with a lovely garden.
It costs...wait for it...70 rupees!
I'm so blessed, so happy, so grateful.
And I better get back, because the only real rule is that one needs to be in by 10pm.
Goodnight :)

Back on the Mainland

2007-01-06T12:03:00.000+02:00

I'm in raucous reeking Chennai again.
J's gone, off to Delhi then back to Kabul tomorrow.
I'm sad, but not as sad as our previous parting since this time it's only for a month and during that time I'll have my hands full trying to survive India.
I was dreading leaving the Andaman islands but at the same time it was time to go. Something about islands...J says they trap energy, which could explain why some islands are just swimming in good vibes, others quite the opposite. Havelock definitely leans towards the weird vibe side.
Perhaps its just too much of a good thing.
We spent our day on Ross Island yesterday. A really cool abandoned British playground just a hop skip and a jump from Port Blair. All the crumbling buildings are held together by ficus trees a la Angkor Wat in Cambodia. There are loads of deer and peacocks and pretty views. Really enjoyed it.
One thing about the Andamans, the food is the pits and expensive to boot (by Indian standards that is), with one exclusion The Red Snapper at Wild Orchid on Havelock YUM. I had a run in with some chilli yesterday in Port Blair and again at breakfast. Ouch. It burns ALL the way through.
So at least we could enjoy some decent thali for lunch in Chennai today. Although getting to the 20 rupee feast on a banana leaf entailed making our way over the most wretched scenes of squalour. Not so great for the appetite or the people forced to live and ablute on the so-called sidewalks. In the 20 metres we covered from Hotel Himalaya to the Maharaja restaurant we stepped over a tot pooing yellow worms, the foulest ditch of god knows what, a quite possibly dead dog, ancient people (probably 40 but looking at least 300) twig thin with claws outstretched, sacks containing small children judging from the tiny fingers and toes peeking out of them and a gazillion auto-ricks, taxis, bicycles and filth filth filth.
I knew that I wasn't quite prepared to return to all this when the guy on the ferry yesterday started shoving me mercilessly and caused a tsunami sized wave of rage to well up inside of me.
So I'm practicing the art of complete and utter surrender. I boarded and disembarked from the aircraft last to avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness and intend to make the most of my mid-range hotel (grim but with the ultimate luxury -- hot water) by avoiding Chennai until I leave on the first bus tomorrow.
I'm off to Mamallapuram which has some lovely stone cut temples and a dance festival on at the moment. I only intend to be there for a night or so before heading to Pondicherry.

Havelock/Heaven

2007-01-03T08:16:00.000+02:00

We've been on Havelock Island for 10 nights, only 2 more to go.
Sob.
What does one say about Paradise?
The sea is turquoise, the beach coral white, the snorkelling is beyond....
I mean yesterday we took a little dip with a school of about 50 impressive looking blue-green creatures with huge bumps on their heads and white beaks.
It was awesome!
We've seen clown fish (aka Nemo) playing in their anemones, more parrot fish than you can shake a fin at, coral of every hue and pattern. Gorgeous!
We spent the first 7 nights on Beach #7 which has been voted Asia's Best Beach, no empty boast that. It is pristine and the magic of its primordial forest-jungle makes it something more than just another postcard paradise beach.
J and I have spent a fair amount of time trekking along elephant logging paths through dense jungle teaming with life. Most of what lives here is endemic to the Andamans, so birds and butterflies of most spectacular hues delight the eye only here.
It's possibly one of the few remaining places on earth that is mostly untouched by human hands.
Having said that, the few locals, who are themselves not endemic (the few remaining tribals are protected in reserves)are not the pleasantest lot.
Then again, most of the foreigners here are stoned and a little the worse for wear, so who can really blame them.
We enjoyed a most delightful New Year's Eve at the Emerald Gecko with mellow live music on the beach.
Having said all that, the news I've just received from my friend Jules makes it all seem immaterial.
All we have is this moment.
Wherever you are (and according to an Indian guy on the ferry over here, anywhere outside of the Andamans is Hell), love it.

Andaman Islands

2006-12-24T07:00:00.000+02:00

I think that Chennai only serves to make you all the more appreciative of island life.
We took a grubby 15 hour train ride from Alleppey on the Keralan West coast of India to Chennai on the Tamil Nadu East coast. We caught a pretty sunset over our last sight of the backwaters and then slept fitfully in what soon became a very cold compartment which we shared with a mouse and cockroaches (for real).
Woke up in hectic Chennai.
Dirty, stinky, NOISY. Very very tiring.
We checked in at the YWCA, which we loved inordinately for its hot showers ;) They organised a car for us and after a delish masala dosa breakfast (fluffy lentil flour pancakes with veg curry, sambal and coconut chutney, mmmm) hit the town. Or it hit us to be more accurate.
We visited a candy coated Hindu temple and I got my hand shook by every little mite within a mile. No English phrases though, unlike Kerala where I had to give my name, place of origin, marital status, etc ad nauseum to every passerby.
There were quite a few provisions that needed to be purchased before hitting the islands, so we spent the rest of the day trying not to breathe while negotiating unbelieavable traffic.
My dad's back is still suffering, J and I are in recovery from the pharyngitis which is now manifesting as sinusitis and my mom's got an ear infection.
So we were all relieved to sit back and watch 'Happy Feet' at one of Chennai's 100 cinemas.
Early to bed and an early auto-rickshaw run to the airport.
And here we are...Port Blair for now, our ferry to Havelock Island where we'll spend Christmas and New Year is this afternoon.
Laid back, breezy and tropical -- we're loving it already.
It seems uncertain whether there'll be any internet access on Havelock, so if you don't hear from me -- have a good one!
My mom and dad leave Havelock on the 1st of Jan, J and I on the 5th.
The pic is of J and I happily reunited at Neyyar Dam, Sivananda Ashram.

Backwater Reverie

2006-12-21T08:55:00.000+02:00

The food just keeps getting better and better.
All that time I put into Pilates...for nought!
Last night we gobbled up delectable Fish Masala, rice with cashews and cloves, dal that melted in the mouth, scrumptious flaky breads called pattoras. It was all too too divine.
Breakfast wasn't too shabby either -- iddiapom (rice vermicelli noodles with fresh grated coconut) and coconut milk veg curry. Lip smackingly YUM.
Accompanied my dad by little wooden canoe rowed by a very smiley lady in glowing sari to the nearest road where we caught an auto-rickshaw to the hospital.
He's on his second day of physio there and has stopped weeping in agony, hopefully for good.
While dad was being doctored, J and I went exploring. Found a candy gopuram (South Indian Hindu temples sport grand edifices thick with sculpted gods & co, often vibrantly painted) and mesmerising puja (priests make offerings of flowers and fruit to various deities on behalf of the devout). Ladies were chanting accompanied by drumming and a painted ellie looked on.
Too cool.
I have a massage later and tomorrow night we board a train which will take us across the sub-continent of India to Chennai/Madras.
Alleppey is about 40% Christian and this little backwater town is rocking to a 10 day Christmas festival. All the streets are decked out in silver tinsel and lined with cheap toys and pungent snacks. We even get a fireworks show every night...above the timeless waterways where women wash themselves, their children, clothes and dishes; while men punt up and down whooping about their catch.
Merry merry everyone!

Rice Boat -- Sublime India

2006-12-19T13:19:00.000+02:00

For all those who are keen on India but not terribly keen on the throngs of people, stinky pollution and all round exhaustion that are part and parcel of travelling in this lovely place...rice boats!
Wow. So gorgeous.
I can highly recommend the operation we've been with for the past 2 nights -- 'Lakes & Lagoons'. Conscientous staff, pristine boat (and oh-so-pretty), delicious food and views views views.
We feel like we've drifted off into a light altered state of consciousness.

My poor Papa probably wishes he had! He's put his back out (thanks to Sivananda Yoga which left us all bruised and battered) and is at this moment at Alleppey's hospital while I and my ma take an internet break.
I call him Papa in honour of the delightful villagers we met earlier. One of the many perks of this Keralan experience is that you get to moor anywhere and meet up with villagers. One family invited us into their picturesque homes, fed us rice and coconut milk pancakes and wrapped some up in banana leaves for 'Papa' who was staying as still as possible to fend off excruciating agony on the boat.

We've visited psychedelic Catholic churches and gardens fragrant with spices. Mostly we've laid back on the deck and watched the jungle of coconut palms, little fishing boats and endless rice paddies glide by in a panorama untouched by modernity.
Heaven.

We have one more night of eating too much of Suresh's exquisite Keralan cuisine, falline asleep to the sound of water, distant chanting and the occasional call of a fisherman.

Tomorrow we have the hardship of checking into an Ayurvedic Heritage Home for 2 nights of massage and food balanced for our doshas. J and I are currently recovering from pharyngitis (a little memento J brought with him from freezing cold Afghanistan) which means our Vatta is all out of whack.

Otherwise blisssssssssssssssssssssssss

All you Reiki masters out there and healers of all sorts, send love to my Papa's lower back, please ;)

Varkala -- Beach Paradise

2006-12-16T10:02:00.000+02:00

I survived the ashram and was a little bit sad to say goodbye. Especially to some of the lovely individuals I met there -- Malin, a choreographer from Sweden imbued with serenity; Rajesh, a Brahmin of uncompromising good spirits and generosity; Lee, a sunny Vietnamese-Australian, and so on...
The day that J arrived I ended up waiting from 3 in the afternoon until his actual arrival at 9 that night, his flight was delayed due to heavy fog in Delhi. Thank goodness for Rajesh (an Indian version of Colin Farrell) who plied me with chai and biscuits and promised to help me find a new hubby if this one never turned up.
When J did eventually arrive I couldn't stop smiling :)
He enjoyed his one day at the ashram, especially the yummy satvic veg thali.
We left yesterday early and checked into paradise.
Bold red cliffs thick with tall coconut palms and delightful thatched restaurants and shops. Lovely sandy coves and a warm gentle Arabian Sea.
Hmmm mmm mmmm.
Just slurped down yet another coconut & pineapple lassi.
Lovin it :)
Have also bumped into just about all of my ashram buddies, unrecognisable in beach gear & suntans.
Tomorrow we board our own private rice boat and drift off on the serene Keralan backwaters. We're planning to pop in at Amma's crazy ashram and to take in a few ancient Hindu temples and the like.
Tonight I'd like to catch a Kathakali performance -- the surreal Keralan religious dance art.
Sending sunshine and good vibes from Varkala.
Big love!

Ashram in Review

2006-12-12T10:36:00.000+02:00

My dad arrived today, utterly travel weary and a little thrown by this ashram business. Jason gets here tomorrow, which is taking up a lot of my meditation time ;)
Since we'll be leaving the green sanctuary of the ashram shortly (Friday), I thought I'd give a quick review, especially for those of you who are considering a sojourn here (Gislaine, Shikara -- Hellooooo!).
The double rooms are nice enough, all beds are ROCK hard. Seriously, they bruise! There are 3 different dorms for women, two are newer and nicer than the old one, so ask.
I sleep on my yoga mat, to temper the hardness and keep the damp of the mattress off. It is intensely humid, but not always hot-hot. A blanky might come in handy for meditation and at night, since they only provide 2 sheets and it can get a little nippy while you sleep.
I love the food. It's stadard Keralan cuisine -- idlis, chapatis, rice, poppadoms, sambhal (mixed veg), chutneys. There's a lot of starch and carbs, but I've been fine because I drink the Ayurvedic water they provide which aids digestion.
Only 2 meals a day and you can get REALLY hungry by the first meal at 10am (remember you're up at 5:30am), so I recommend bringing a few nuts and snacks to have after morning Satsang and before the tough 2 hour yoga class. In the afternoon you can get something yummy at the Health Hut, which is cheap and provides fruit shakes, coconut treats and such.
Some of the people who work here are really lovely, others not so lovely. It takes all kinds...
As for the inmates, at the moment lots of young sexy singles, so if you're looking ;) Mostly I've enjoyed the interactions, but since people are going through a rather intense sleep deprived experience here, tensions can arise.
A lot of people don't like all the chanting, I adore it.
A lot of people love the asana, I loathe them.
If you can get past the peculiar sing-song way in which all the teachers go through the class script and you're into challenging asana (think Bikram, Ashtanga, Iyengar) then I think it would be a breeze.
The so-called Beginner's Class does not really differ from the Intermediate/ Advanced.
I've tried both and they're equally punishing, even though you do get a blissful pranayama intro at the start of each class and occasional Shavasana (never has the 'corpse pose' rung so true) rests in between breaking your neck in Headstand and breaking your back in Crow.
But like I say, most people seem to enjoy the asana most of all. So to each his own.
There is a great opportunity in the afternoon for coaching if you need help with any of the poses, and I do find that they're particularly good at making adjustments here. However, if you do do everything that's on the schedule, you will no doubt burn out on Day 3, as I and many people that I spoke to did.
The Ayurvedic Rejuvenation Massage that they offer here helps, but take it easy the day that you get one. There are lovely gardens, use them to rest and chat to a few like-minded souls from every corner of the globe.
What else?
The Boutique offers just about everything, from yoga mats to cushions to mossie stuff (you'll need it!).
If they offer the KanyaKumari trip to the southrn tip of India, don't hesitate to go. Kovalam is nearby and makes a nice Friday beach escape.
I love the daily lectures, very informative on yogic philosophy. Karma yoga's not so bad. Today I cleaned toilets in the dorm, but it only took about 20 minutes.
Come with an open mind.
Be patient....with yourself and others.
Enjoy!
Can't wait to hear your take on it.

Drunken Monkey

2006-12-11T10:11:00.000+02:00

They say that the Mind is like a drunken monkey stung by a scorpion.
I had two rather yucky days. They included incidents such as chipping in to serve food out of the goodness of my heart only to have it thrown back at me with a 'What are you thinking?!?!?!?' and this by a man whom I had respected and liked during my stay here. Then my shoes were taken. For the second time.
It's hard to expalin to anyone who hasn't been in this kind of environment how the smallest incidents can just shake you to the very core.
So there was a bit of despondency and tetchiness to contend with last night.
My mom and I ommmmmm-ed ourselves to sleep as per usual last night and I made a resolution to be good. Swami Sivananda used to say 'Bear insult, bear injury, highest sadhana' and it would seem that his ashram likes to give you plenty of opportunities to try that out ;)
So yes, I'm having a splendid day.
I clapped and sang my heart out at the crack of dawn, went off without too much resistance to do the same damn exhausting asana again (as J put it 'practice makes perfect...NOT), nodded my head off in agreement during the lecture on 'Positive Thinking' and mopped my floors with glee (Caroline says that Karma Yoga sounds like slave labour ;).
The cherry on top: an e-mail from J saying he's coming early!!!
He was meant to arrive in Trivandrum on Friday, but he'll be here on Wednesday. So hopefully the ashram will waive its 3 night minimum stay policy and allow him to spend 2 nights here. Groooooovy.
He also sent me this classic horoscope for yesterday:
'Letting go of your expectations can be a crucial key to having good
old-fashioned fun today. Forget about all the reasons that you
shouldn't do what's being offered.'
Classic.
Om Shanti shanti shanti
Yours in bliss...
Chamundi

I need a holiday

2006-12-10T11:03:00.000+02:00

Had to get up for a 6am massage. I know I know, it doesn't sound like too much of a hardship. But this dear Indian lady is a little rough and ready. She rubs you up thoroughly, no muscle is left unturned, then steams you.
The upside is the hot water. Still, very difficult to get the oils out of my hair. So now I have the standard ashram greasy look.
Missed out on the morning walk. Twice a week we walk in silence to the other side of the very pretty Neyyar Dam and look out over the Western Ghats (mountains), then chant our little hearts out.
I was also told to take it easy after my massage, just the ticket for skipping the deadly boring and difficult as hell asana classes.
They teach by rote and I could and probably do go through the whole damn thing in my sleep.
It's funny because most of the other inmates seem to enjoy the asana. I figure they just don't know any better. All the subtletly and variety of yoga postures are completely ignored.
The TTC have mostly dissipated. That's 200 less in the ashram and some peace is settling in, though now there are a lot of gaps in the Karma Yoga and so on top of mopping the dining hall, I lugged huge pales of rice and sambhal and drums of poppadoms all the way from the kitchen.
Gotta sign out, my 15 minutes on the pc are up.
Hari Om Tat Sat

Yoga Vacation?

2006-12-09T10:06:00.000+02:00

I'm past the half way mark.
Mostly I'm exhausted.
We never get close to enough sleep and I'm really attached to that ;)
4 hours of really tough asana a day has left me bruised, battered and shakey.
Sivananda Yoga entails doing the exact same series of postures day in and day out. Booooooring.
Especially when you're doing it twice a day for 2 hours at a time!
On the other hand, the very informative daily lectures have helped me to understand that asana (what we in the West think of as 'yoga') are merely an aspect of Raja Yoga, that is a discipline of the Mind.
In that case, my mind is an even naughtier monkey than I thought!
Most of the time I'm pissed off because on the 10000th Sun Salutation....I mean honestly.
This is not the yoga that I love, namely, be still... be gentle... listen to your inner wisdom...
As a result my left knee and hip are buggered.
On a more positive note, I love absolutely everything else. Even getting up at 5:30am for Satsang, during which we meditate and sing sanskrit chants. I love the French Yogini Lalitambika and her informative, funny daily lectures on all things Yogic ---
For instance, Yoga is made up of 4 Paths: Bhakti (devotional eg. chanting), Raja (disciplining the mind through asana and pranayama/breathing practices), Karma (selfless service...I mop the dining hall floors every day) and Jnana (philosophy as contained in the most ancient Vedic scriptures).
We're kept very busy from 5:30am till 10:30 pm.
Yesterday was a Free Day so we hotfooted it to Kovalam Beach and had a blissful time in the warm Arabian Sea. Came back for evening Satsang sun kissed and refreshed.
I also had an ayurvedic massage a few days back which was definitely more therapeutic than relaxing, but still seemed to open the nadis/meridians and helped revive me somewhat.
Another highlight was receiving a name. Wait for it, this is cool!
~~~Chamundi~~~
Meaning 'Demon slayer.'
It's basically a nickname for the fearsome Hindu Goddess Kali, because she chopped off the heads of the Demons Chanda and Munda. This is symbolic of the removal of Rjas and Tamas, or Ego and Ignorance, Passion and Indolence.
Groovy 'ey.
So far our stay has coincided with the end of the TTC, Teacher's Training Course. When we arrived they were 3 weeks in, exhausted and mmmm, let's say grumpy.
Today they wrote their final exam and tomorrow the ashram will be ours!
That means meals (which are deeeeelicious) will finally truly be in silence. Yippee.
And we won't have to worry about having our heads bitten off for, well, anything.
Tonight there's a celebratory feast followed by the weekly talent show.
Last week's was awesome. SO much talent -- from Keralan fire dancing to really great New York standup and whimsical songs from Japan to Jamaica. This is a really diverse crowd!
Above all I'm coming face to face with myself a lot, reflected back at me in sometimes less than pleasant forms.
Today I learnt the difficult lesson -- just because I feel angry doesn't mean I am angry.
See it all as a gift.

Sivananda Ashram (or How I learned to stop worrying and meditate with lions)

2006-12-02T10:47:00.000+02:00

Namaste!
I'm here.
I pause with trembling fingers and try to decide how to tackle the thousand and one lives I've lived over the past...what's today? Saturday. Holy cow! It's been an absolute whirlwind!
We landed in Mumbai late, or rather in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, and I decided instantly that New York has to take a back seat to the actual city that never sleeps. It seemed to be more like 8pm than 2am as we cruised along the busy streets of delightful Mumbai.
Yes, it's noisy, busy, polluted, but it's also charming. Art Deco buildings look over the bay that the Portuguese called Bom Bahai (hence Bombay), fish used to make Bombay Duck dries along the shore caught by the very people who have lived there forever and ever and whose goddess Mumba lends her name to the current incarnation.
My mom and I crashed at the Eastern International, a grubby hotel calling itself 5 star. It does have a pooldeck with a beautiful sunset view of Juhu Beach....if you can tolerate the smell that is ;)
Just as we drifted off at about 3am, Security came banging down the door. We called down to reception and they said they didn't know anything about it. Hmmm. Worrying. So I bolted it and told them to leave us alone. More banging and shouting. I called reception again. They're checking into it 'Don't worry.' Reassuring.
So that was fun.
We woke up and took a whirlwind tour with a surly driver. Saw the grand centre and the Gate of India and oh so many other things. Enjoyed it thoroughly.
That evening we got to grips with the interesting Indian economy airline system. Much like everything else on this dear continent it involved quite a bit of push-&-shove.
But all in all no real hassles. Arrived in hot and humid Kerala, God's Country, very late on Wednesday and were taken by a darling old man in his ancient taxi harbouring a swarm of mosquitoes to the yucky Hotel Ganesh. Lonely Planet couldn't have been more wrong. Filthy room, dreadful owner, not good. Except that in our exhausted state my mom and I foud it all totally hilarious :)
In the morning we bid our less than fond farewell to that dump and with the help of a persistent auto-rickshaw driver discovered a wonderful place for breaky. Darling doc who believes everything I do about the healing properties of food and how and what to eat to truly benefit. That was great.
Hailed a white tin box (taxi) and journeyed off into the jungle.
So, the ashram. It's BEAUTIFUL. Truly. Views of the Western ghats, surrounded by jungle and how's this, first yoga class down beside the Neyyar dam we were accompanied by the loud grunts and roars of lions. It was just too good to be true. The food -- divine! Yesterday was Friday which meant an outing, so I went along to the Southern tip of the Indian continent, visited stunning ancient Hindu temples, a waterfall, islands, a wooden temple...quite a day!
Got back late and had to be up at 5:30 for Satsang....meditation and chanting. Followed by a strong yoga class, delicious breakfast, lecture on yoga, karma yoga (I get to mop the floor of one of the halls) and now I really need to crash!
All's well. Hot sticky tired, but happy.
My mom's dreaming of escape ;)
I'll keep you posted.
Om Tat Sat

Off to India

2006-11-26T21:05:00.000+02:00

I'm on my way!
In case you're wondering where in the world I am over the next two months, you can use my India Itinerary post as a reference and I'll update this here blog as often as possible...which may not be very often, but I'll do my best.
Adios amigos!

Anusara

2006-11-24T21:55:00.000+02:00

Life is good.
I went to the launch of a beautiful book last night hosted by the Society of Photographers of which I'm very pleased to be a member.
Then today I had the great honour of starting an Anusara yoga course with the vibrant Desiree Rumbaugh.
What a gorgeous yogi she is! She has in one day altered my (7 year!) practice so subtly and powerfully with laughter and insight and brilliant techniques. The photo shows her taking Trikonasana out of the box. For those of you familiar with the 'between the panes of glass' triangle pose...wow, hey, wow....
Then I got to hang with my angel friend Liesa and visited Vee the Psychic who confirmed just how damn lucky I am!
Though she did say that I've earned that luck ;)
Looking forward to sunflowers and happy times with my soulmate.
Thanks to all who are sharing the journey.
Love ya!

Aha

2006-11-18T22:17:00.000+02:00

Am I wrong to think that Sacha Baron Cohen is a genius?
Is it just because I've lived in the 'Stans (& the US) that I find Borat SO hilarious, not to mention heartbreakingly true?
We've been having stormy weather here on the Highveld and with it electrical displays in the sky and outages on the ground. Yesterday during rush hour traffic the light had gone out at a busy intersection. A homeless guy had taken it upon himself to direct traffic and things were moving along beautifully. Now that's citizenship.
And the reason I brought Sacha and the impromptu traffic conductor up in the same breath...well, something to do with lightening up, seeing the truth without having to tear my hair out. Something like that.

Note to self...

2006-11-16T21:26:00.000+02:00

When feeling glum, don't watch 'Sylvia.' The movie about Sylvia Plath's life. And that's not just because it isn't very good. I used to have this picture of Sylvia and Ted Hughes on my wall as a teenager. I love the over-exposure on Sylvia's blouse, her radiant face and Ted's hand seems so large, possessive, while his face is slightly in shadow. A powerful image of two intriguing poets.
"I am inclined to babies and bed and brilliant friends and a magnificent stimulating home where geniuses drink gin in the kitchen after a delectable dinner and read their own novels...." Thanks to Stella who shared this quote with me this evening.

Food for Thought

2006-11-16T09:22:00.000+02:00

Watch this

India Itinerary

2006-11-14T13:33:00.000+02:00

My mom and I are flying to Mumbai direct from Joburg, we land there at 5 minutes past midnight on the 29th of November. Overnight at the Eastern International Hotel on Juhu Beach, possibly take in the sights of Mumbai before winging our way to Trivandrum, capital of the south-western state of Kerala.
We then spend 2 weeks at the Sivananda Ashram on Neyyar Dam. There is a strict daily schedule which includes a 5:30am wake up and 4 hours of yoga practice. I can't wait! If you've read Yoga School Dropout (loads of fun :)you'll have a better idea of what we're in for.
My dad joins us at the ashram for our last 3 days and then -- Yippee Yay Yay -- we pick up J at the airport in Trivandrum on the 15th of December. The four of us then work our way up the coast. First 2 nights in Varkala -- my folks get to stay at the gorgeous Villa Jacaranda, while J and I stay at the less gorgeous Sea Pearl Chalets.
Then we board a swish rice boat at Alumkadavu and cruise the famous backwaters for 3 nights. This looks incredible! En route to Allepey we'll visit the Hugging Mamma, ancient temples and just soak up the timeless ambience so beautifully captured in The God of Small Things.
We disembark and spend two nights in the Keraleeyam heritage cottages that provide ayurvedic treatments. Sigh. Yes, it's tough, but someone's gotta do it ;)
On the 22nd we board an overnight train to Chennai and we'll spend a day and a night at the YWCA there before catching a flight to Port Blair, capital of the Andaman Islands in the middle of the Bay of Bengal.
We catch a ferry to paradise island Havelock and spend Christmas and New Year at Barefoot. My parents leave on the 1st of January, J and I on the 5th.
Jason heads back to Afghanistan on the 6th, while I spend the month hopping about -- possibly Pondicherry before departure from Bangalore on the 2nd of Feb. Flying via Bahrain and will be back in South Africa on the 3rd of February.
Fun fun fun :)

Change

2006-11-14T13:28:00.000+02:00

They say that you can be sure of only one thing in life and that's change. I love it!
So, in anticipation of my 2 months in India (in exactly 2 weeks I'll be winging my way to Mumbai), I've changed a few of the links in my sidebar, though I haven't gone so far as to set the blog-clock to India time ;)
Watch this space...

Safari

2006-11-13T18:15:00.000+02:00

Just another weekend in Paradise!
Here I am hanging out with rhino. Stayed in luxury at Makalali and celebrated my incredible gran Lola's 79th birthday! I can only hope to grow older with such vigour and indomitable spirit.
My dad treated us to our own mini-lodges complete with private cushy lookouts, although I could watch ellies bathing in the river from my comfy bed! Oh man, I'm one spoilt cookie. Thank you thank you thank you :)
More pics of the South African veld, my gorgeous home.

Are you breathing?

2006-11-06T10:09:00.000+02:00

I spent the weekend in Heaven.
Here I am with a few angels -- Shikara, Carley, Gislaine & Tullio.

It was called River Still in Groot Marico.
We arrived on Friday to spend the weekend practicing Breathing, which is quite simply the most important thing you will ever do!
The wonderful Keith MacFarlane was our guide. Over a year ago I did his Lymphology course which changed my life. I now never have to be sick or tired if I just bounce on my mini-trampoline as much as possible. Sounds too easy, hey ;)
Try it out...all you have to lose is stress!
We stayed in a darling farmhouse called Amitaba surrounded by gardens filled with wind chimes and birdsong leading down to a river. It was a veg & fruit juice only detox combined with incredible energy practices: Falun Dafa, Kum Nye, and Seamm Jasani.
Good stuff!
And the full moon smiled down on us all :)
More pics of Heaven.
Here's Keith wearing a T-shirt & lifestyle he designed --

Are you breathing?

Pretoria

2006-10-30T18:21:00.000+02:00

Our street:
It's that dazzling time of year. The entire city beneath a purple haze of jacaranda blossoms. My heart swells so huge every time I step outside. The air is charged with thunderstorms. It's good to be home. My love for it all overwhelms me.
In celebration of being here now I'm reading all my favourite South African authors. Polished off JM Coetzee's autobiographical novels (but do yourself a favour and start with 'Disgrace') and am onto the genius Ivan Vladislavic. If you want to get under the skin of Joburg, read his latest.
Wish you were here ;)

Good News

2006-10-23T18:59:00.000+02:00

I'm all sludgy, hectic detox after hectic weekend.
Time to be.
Aaaaaaaah....
Made the mistake of flicking through CNN, BBC & Sky, all of which were disseminating less than chirpy news about Afghanistan.

Once again I have Holly to thank for this pick-me-up:

Go and do likewise!
Why is it the most divine thing to behold and yet the scariest thing to contemplate actually doing?

Eid muborak!

2006-10-22T12:11:00.000+02:00

It's time for the Islamic celebration of Eid, marking the end of the Ramadan fast. That means my beloved will be invited to staff homes for oily sheep. Little kids will be decked out in their dusty best. I arrived in Afghanistan a year ago. Another life.

An actual security warning issued to NGOs in Afghanistan today:
As a general advisory, I would like to remind all NGOs of the possible gunfire on the sky, as an expression of happiness for the upcoming Eid, at the last night of Ramazan (probably on 22 Oct) in region, particularly in major cities. NGOs are advised to avoid being outside/ open area as the possibility of the falling of bullets is high during the gunshots.
Have a nice weekend and happy your Eid.

Meanwhile I sweated it out at Bikram yoga yesterday. No joke. As one buff young man put it to me afterwards: "This is combat yoga." 40 degrees, tough postures, 90 minutes...and I made it! I'm a tough cookie, yeah!

Happy! Happy!

2006-10-19T09:03:00.000+02:00

The most wonderful person in my world is celebrating his birthday in Kabul tomorrow.
I really hope it's a good one!
I'm surprising him with a collection of stories and photos from a lot of family and friends. Thanks to all who contributed :)
If you'd like to see the finished masterpiece and learn more about this amazing J, just drop me a line.
Our friend Holly made a particularly cool contribution.
When we lived in New York she decided to make a doccie about people's reactions to the declaration of war on Iraq.
This clip is an extract:

Close your eyes & Breathe

2006-10-16T13:46:00.000+02:00

I spent the weekend in Silent Meditation.
Yes, it does sound blissssssful doesn't it.
But it aint.
Hell no.
PAINful.
But absolutely worth it.

Miracles today:
Had to pick up my dad's passport from the Egyptian Embassy. Rocked up at 12...ahem, they'd been closed since 11. Three people were flexible and...I got the passport!
Anyone who has ever had anything to do with bureaucracy will know that this is possibly the greatest miracle of recent times.

Yes, meditation works :)

I only want what I do not have...duh!

2006-10-09T08:30:00.000+02:00

Other than a great Sinead O'Connor album, that has to be obvious, right? I mean, unless you want more chocolate, which is also a given.
Ha ha, this is so funny. Decided to check on that Sinead title, turns out I've got it backwards ("it" being not simply the title!). Sinead oh so zen-ly pronounced: 'i do not want what i haven't got.' Rock on.
Anyway, what I'm driving at is that it feels like everyone's having babies. Just check out my friend Tom's site. Adorable!
And I've posted a pic here of a friend from high school's little munchkin holding onto my finger while taking a power nap.
Does it get any better than that?!
Congrats to all the new mommies and daddies.
Enjoy every nappy, hiccup & yawn.

Om Mane Pame Hung

2006-10-02T10:23:00.000+02:00

What a splendiferous weekend!
Started out with a killer 30th birthday party (happy happy to lovely Liesa), then a delightful Saturday spent at the Nan Hua Buddhist Temple, about an hour East of Pretoria. Love that place! I can highly recommend their retreats -- yummy pure earth (ie. organic) Chinese vegetarian food, peaceful setting, heavenly meditations with smiling monks and nuns. All too lovely.
Sunday was all good too, visited my mom-in-law and shared some laughs.
Drove my gran to the airport. My great-grandfather has passed on after a looooooong life. He always had the best sense of humour, but when we saw him a couple of weeks ago in Cape Town, he didn't want to put on his glasses or hearing aid and didn't recognise us. On parting he said: "Nice to have met you."
Great last words :)

Mozambique

2006-09-26T09:29:00.000+02:00

I've been in Mozambique. Lucky me! Is there a better place on earth?

Do not delay.
If you love endless, unspoilt, unpeopled beaches, pristine reefs, plates full of the most heavenly prawns, smiling laid back people, look no further!
En route, come visit me in good ol' SA.

I've posted my pics

En'lite'nment

2006-09-17T22:31:00.000+02:00

Bear with me.
So basically I found mysef in the Pit of Despair...yet again. Me and the pit, we go way back.
And my friend Holly *hi :)* sent me this uncannily accurate astrological day-by-day blow-by-blow account of the month I've had. Sjoe. It wasn't pretty.
The eclipses...anyway, ACCURATE.
It's apparently all written in the stars.
What to do?
I watched a film called 'The Secret', based on quantum physics and the sound principal: 'you are what you think' or 'nothing is but thinking makes it so.'
Basically, create your own good fortune.
Then my friend Basho gave me his notebook of haikus so that my nimble fingers could type them up for him. What a journey.
And I'm reading an incredible book called The Sunburnt Queen, you can buy it for next to nothing from my buddy Craig, just click on the hyperlink.
But maybe that's all irrelevant.
What happened was that against my will (I just wanted to languish in bed with my brilliant book forever) I went to a talk by gnostic expert Timothy Freke and I got it.
It wasn't the first time, but I was reminded and I'm so grateful.

Here it is, the meaning of life, for freeeeee...

We are here to love life and that entails realising that every moment is ok.
Every moment is love.
Trust me on this one ;)

P.S. Love you all. Really.

No regrets...?

2006-09-14T16:47:00.000+02:00

J just sent this to me. It's a water project I helped get going in our Afghan town of Taloqan at its one and only school for high school aged girls.
Meanwhile...here in the comfy suburbs of Pretoria, I taught yoga to housewives.
You know what, it is rewarding too!
Just goes to show, life affords opportunities to help wherever you are.

Bad Blogger

2006-09-13T14:04:00.000+02:00

Apologies.
Got caught up in actual living.
Naughty, I know.
So for the past month J and I have been galavanting around South Africa.
The Cape was absolutely gorgeous. Lush, proteas and wildflowers galore. Most of all friends friends friends. Feel so spoilt.
Check out the photos.
Now I'm back in Pretoria and J is in Kabul.
He left yesterday and I just couldn't make myself go back.
We're feeling terribly lovelorn.
I'm off to India at the end of November and J will meet me in Kerala in Mid-December.
Yes, that means 3 months without my soulmate. It sucks. But I made the choice and I'm not altogether sorry.
In the interim I'm available for coffee ;)
Also teaching yoga at my mom's studio and still doing some work for the NGO in Afghanistan.
That's it.

HOME

2006-08-15T22:41:00.000+02:00

My body arrived back in South Africa today...though my soul and our bags haven't made it yet. Heathrow was a mess. Our flight from Brussels was delayed as a result of the stringent precautions undertaken in the UK against possible terrorism.
We landed in Heathrow 5 minutes before our flight to Johannesburg was supposed to depart. Then waited for a martial to show up so that we could park. The pilot 'reassured' us that another plane had waited for 2 hours for the same privilege. Fortunately a totally stressed out man was waiting for us on the airstrip. He drove us across the airport at speeds that defied land travel and we made it in time to wait for our delayed flight home.
Our bags are apparently still hanging out in limbo.
Hopefully they make it, since the no-carry-on policy meant that we had to check our laptops and absolutely everything else.
For now, all I care about is the comfy bed upstairs.
Night night.

:)

2006-08-14T14:34:00.000+02:00

Check out flickr for the pick of the litter from Brussels and Copenhagen.
I'm off.
See you in South Africa shortly.

Hi Hi Copenhagen

2006-08-13T23:46:00.000+02:00

Hi hi means goodbye in Danish...isn't that reason enough to dig Copenhagen?
Scandinavia has always occupied the ho-hum section of my imaginings, but I was pleasantly surprised.
3 days was just about right to run around the grand city, which may not be Europe's most exciting capital, but it's certainly one of the most livable.
And that despite the piddly weather. No good for biking unfortunately, but we didn't let that phase us.
We saw plenty -- from the charming Little Mermaid (I don't care what everyone says, she's NOT disappointing!) to Gavin DeGraw singing free at the Tivoli.
Got back in to Brussels a couple of hours ago to catch the once every 2 years, 48 hour phenomenon of the flower carpet on the Grand Place. Lovely!

Should hit the sack if I'm to get to Brugges tomorrow. Yes. I'm stark raving mad. But since I have no idea what the future holds and so can't bargain on ever being back in Belgium, gotta make hay while the sun shines...or doesn't shine in this case.
Also, keep in mind that I live like a prisoner in Afghanistan then you may understand this self-destructive urge to keep on trying to see and do it all.

My Best of Copenhagen:

#Cool design. Of course. But really, everything from the dinky luggage trollies in the airport to the fab chairs everywhere. The Dansk Design Centre was fun too.

#Tivoli is the un-tackiest amusement park in the world. It's enchanting and on the night we went both Beck and Gavin were playing (yes, I'd prefer to see Beck too, but his concert cost and we were a bit too late :( )

#Walking along the canals and waterfront. Dazzling light. So that's where the painters got it from! Not the Danish painters, there's a reason you haven't heard of any of them, more like the Flemish/Dutch masters.

#I dig the sensuous curves of the Black Diamond (it's a library!)

#Christiana. You can oggle real live hippies at rest and at play in their very own free-state/commune, as well as the only non-whites in Scandinavia (well just about) -- Greenlanders.

#Clean lines. Old and new seamlessly hanging out together on the same block -- twizzly spires and shiny glass facades. It's all so easy on the eye.

As for Brussels:
Not love at first sight, but it certainly grows on one!
Will be sad to say goodbye.

Really have to crash!!!
Will upload photos once I'm home. Leaving for SA via hairy Heathrow (no hand luggage at all?!) tomorrow night.

PS. The pic is of me at Nyhavn in Copenhagen. The sun showed her face for a moment. And we were glad :)

Au Revoir France, Bonjour Belgium

2006-08-09T11:24:00.000+02:00

I'm all over the place. Quite literally.
Seen so much, experienced so much...and it's only been 6 days... or rather, has it only been 6 days?!
When I collapse into bed at night images flash by like the landscapes I've seen from so many planes and trains. I wake up dizzy and travel weary.
Leaving Afghanistan was interesting. Thanks to a 30 year old South African woman (hmmm, my alter ego?) who was arrested trying to depart with a sizeable stash of heroin, my bag was throroughly unpacked, my cosmetics sampled and my incense from India 'appropriated' by too many grubby hands in and around Kabul airport. Eventually we boarded Indian Airlines and ate yummy spicy tofu.
8 hours of sitting around Delhi Airport was not the most fun I've ever had, but we did get to meet a neurotic German journalist who had been screening a documentary on the Bamiyan Buddhas, famously dynamited by the Taliban, to the Hazaras who live in that region.
Passed out on our overnight flight to Paris.
Arrived at 6am in the cold grey city of lurve and hit the streets. In 3 days I managed to drag a still slightly green J up and down quite a few of the oh so beautiful boulevards, cathedrals, monuments and parks of the loveliest city of many lovely European cities.
Some Parisian highlights:
*The Hotel Eldorado, on the scruffy edge of Montmartre, but thoroughly charming and delightfully reasonable. Highly recommended.
*Climbing the Notre Dame towers and hanging out with the gargoyles while Sunday morning bells rang out with a view that quite frankly had me drizzling tears like a little old lady.
*Canoodling on the Bateaux Mouche with J.
*Pain au chocolat, escargots, cheese fondues and everything else that passed my lips.

J then headed to Brussels while I spent two dreamy days in Grenoble with dear friends and had the pleasure of walking in the Alps, which are just so darn pretty, as well as some much needed girl-talk and tons o' love. Fine home cooking in a dream of French countryside living.

Now I find myself in a very grey & chilly (this is summer?!?!?) Brussels surrounded by my wonderful colleagues. I feel like I'm 'home' in the sense that at least for today I don't have to worry about fending for myself in the big bad French speaking world ;)

I've posted beaucoup photos
Enjoy!

Bye Bye Afghanistan

2006-08-03T06:31:00.000+02:00

Pestilential Kabul

2006-08-02T09:29:00.000+02:00

When temperatures hover around 45 degrees (113 Fahrenheit) it's jolly unpleasant. But when you're living in a place brimming with open drains/sewers and no electricity (ie. no refrigeration) it's downright dangerous to your health.
J is the latest victim of the scrumptious Afghan food. Poor guy is green and very unhappy.
I'm worried because we're meant to be leaving tomorrow and have an absolutely exhausting schedule over the next 15 days. We're also hoping that our usual r&r curse will not apply as the South Koreans are marching on Saturday.
I wrote about our curse (or blessing?) in this comment.

News

2006-08-01T13:30:00.000+02:00

All the media is reporting on as concerns Afghanistan is NATO taking command of the South. Sure, it's big news. They're saying it's the 'toughest combat mission in NATO's 57-year history.' Operation Mountain Thrust (no, I couldn't make these things up) has killed 1000 'mostly Taliban insurgents' since mid-May.
What I'm wondering is, who will come to the rescue of the 1500 South Koreans who are currently camped out in Kabul's Olympic Arena?
This misguided lot of Christians has shown up here to hold peace rallies.
I fear for them.
Their only hope is that the Afghans will be so bewildered by their presence that the streets will not run with Korean blood. Someone of my acquaintance was at Kabul Airport yesterday and saw a bunch of them arriving, mostly teenagers, none attired correctly --ie. women without headscarves, showing their arms, and the like.
The fact that they're camping out in the stadium that saw women publicly beaten for such unpardonable crimes as walking unaccompanied by a male relative and men for not having the correct length beard says it all.

3 More Sleeps

2006-07-31T08:50:00.000+02:00

And I'll be winging my way to Delhi-Paris-Grenoble-Brussels-Copenhagen-London-Joburg!
I'm so excited I can't think straight.
The acrid smell of the generator keeps calling me back to Kabul and reminding me that there's work yet to be done :P
Anyone have any recommendations for any of the above?
Jules has given me a scrumptious restaurant and garcon to check out in Paris.
In Grenoble I'll be in very good company with my darling friend from New York, her French hubby and Skyler, the Cat of Cats.
Brussels unfortunately calls for time in the office, though I intend to pay my respects at the Chocolate Museum on the Grand Platz and hopefully fit in a day trip to Brugge.
Anyone have any must-see/do/eats?
You don't have to be a blogger to leave a comment.

Cheesy

2006-07-30T16:45:00.000+02:00

Our local 'Itallian' (not as good as Italian, but beggars can't be choosers) offered up some passable 'cuifine.'
Heh heh.
And guess what we had for lunch?
Mexican!
Not bad either.
Kabul's not so bad after all ;)

Dirt

2006-07-29T12:30:00.000+02:00

While watching a barely watchable bootleg of the new 'Pirates of the Caribbean' yesterday, I realised that 'dirt' in American refers to soil/earth as well as the matter that besmirches us and things thus rendering them 'dirty.'
It's funny because I never thought of soil as dirty.
Until I lived here.
I bathe, often twice a day, and yet my fingernails are permanently despicable, clothes look like they've been dragged through many bushes backwards and feet, Yikes! I don't recognise them anymore. My hair has turned to hay, thanks to layers and layers of dust, which the water does little to remedy. Washing hands is also a double edged sword, since its not certain what's worse -- the toxic water or the dirt?!
No one would accuse New York City of being particularly clean and when I lived there I recall recoiling from fetid puddles in the subway and stepping over rubbish bags heaving with rats (for real). Yet an entire day of traipsing about Brooklyn and Manhattan, and I did even more traipsing than the average New Yorker since one of my jobs was dog walker, rendered me not nearly as filthy as 5 minutes in even the most tidy of Afghan streets.
Ugh!
Kabul has the added disadvantage of having civilized rubbish (pictured above) to add to the nation wide plethora of excrement and dust.
I found a pair of khaki Crocs that blend right in with the dirt and that can easily be hosed down several times a day.
What's more, I now elicit even more sympathy from even the poorest of villagers for my unladylike footwear and have been gifted with a very fetching pair of neon orange plastic heels amongst others.

Kabul Luxury

2006-07-28T13:58:00.000+02:00

I'm feeling better! In celebration of my newfound ability to eat we went to Serena, Kabul's only luxury hotel. J put up a bit of a fight, he's uncomfortable with flaunting wealth in such a needy environment. Fair enough, but man oh man did I enjoy my brunch. People, we're talking sushi, salads, ice cream! I almost wept. I certainly over indulged. Oh and what's more, other than a very full tummy, I'm now sporting a much improved frame of mind.
An earnest young woman from Bamiyan (sans the standard Afghan wear I thought she must be from Malaysia?!) showed us around and apologised that their bakery was closed. It was recently trashed by an angry mob. "It's the second time they've attacked us," she said sorrowfully.
It's funny how a year ago I thought Kabul to be the scariest, dirtiest, most dreadful city I'd ever seen, now I equate it to the ultimate Afghan luxury of dining out.
"Cry Freedom" is on TV, there's cable TV in Kabul, a sure sign that the Americans are here in force. This not very good film that nevertheless tells the important story of South African activist Steve Biko was banned in South Africa for a really long time.
Eventually during the De Klerk epoch it was released for the first time. I hurried off to the one tiny cinema where it was showing in Pretoria, capital of Apartheid and my hometown. No sooner had the opening titles rolled than the cinema was plunged into darkness. The doors were flung wide and well armed soldiers in full regalia trotted in, lined the aisles and ushered us out.
So who am I to bitch and moan about lack of freedom.

Firsts

2006-07-27T12:14:00.000+02:00

I arranged for M to come to Kabul to take an accounting course. You may recall that she's 22 and it's the first time she's ever left her hometown of Faizabad.
So yesterday I thought it would be fun to show her the sights.
We visited what I think of as the only less than unpleasant spot in Kabul -- Babur's Gardens. Now renovated to almost Mughal splendour. It was HOT and DUSTY and lots of young louts made lots of rude remarks.
Bearing in mind that this lovely young woman has never been seen by men outside of her immediate family and the handful in the office, it's a big deal that she's walking around Kabul without a burqa. I'm thrilled. She's nervous. Really really nervous.
I could see that she was rattled by the young guns, so I tried to comfort her by sharing my 'Philosophy on Afghan Men': They're a tribe of 13 year old boys.
She agreed vehemently and spat out: "They are so stupid!"
It astounded me to see such rage from someone other than me!
But instead of reassurance, I felt deep deep sorrow.
This was compounded when on the way to Afghanistan's first and only mall, Kabul City Centre, she timidly proposed that we give it a skip.
Now, I'm probably the world's foremost hater of malls. Generally I'm 100% anti-consumerism of any kind. However, I really thought it would be something for her to see this slick, air conditioned space which is probably the dumpiest mall I've ever seen, but like some futuristic vision in relation to everything else in Afghanistan.
So I gently reassured her that it would be safe, that other Afghan women plied its corridors and that she really should just pop in for a few minutes.
She grudgingly accepted my proposal.
Well! From the security check on the way in to those space-aged moving stairs (escalators), she was trembling with shock and wonder. It was so much fun!
And sad.
A first for me too -- a video on my blog!
This is M taking her first unaccompanied ride on an escalator. The very first ride involved me grabbing her and thrusting her onto the newfangled contraption while she protested vehemently.

Fashion Victims

2006-07-26T11:48:00.000+02:00

"Why are you Western women so unfashionable?"
I was asked this rather pointed question by an Afghan male colleague.
I swallowed my indignation as best I could and explained that perhaps the Afghan notion of fashion differs somewhat from the Western one.
I did not say that I purposefully packed only my lowliest clothing to be subjected to the harshness of this environment and also the most dowdy so as not to appear too wanton.
In Naipaul's An Area of Darkness he writes of Kashmir: "In this medieval dirt and greyness beauty was colour, equally admired in a fine rug, a pot of plastic daisies or...in a fantastic costume."
So true!
Everywhere the sparkly hats on boys and men, the shiny dresses on the poorest of women.
The plastic flowers, oh the plastic flowers, dripping from bicycles, adorning every desk and doorway. Above a pic of one such lovely bouquet and beneath that burqa, guaranteed sparkle.
Here in Kabul some women choose to walk without burqas, so the full array of splendid synthetic wear from the catwalks of China is on display.
What fun it was to visit Afghanistan's only mall yesterday and be swamped by a gaggle of garish women.
Progress...?

Naughty Naughty

2006-07-25T07:08:00.000+02:00

On the way to Kunduz airstrip yesterday we had to make a 'quick' stop at an agency that will remain nameless. Although they had assured us that the necessary documents would be ready and waiting, they were not. As a result we arrived at the simmering airstrip only to watch in dismay as our little plane taxied down the runway.
We waved frantically and they took mercy on us, stopped and powered down one of the engines. Now I understand why boarding usually takes place with both engines well and truly off.
And have an inkling of what the dead endure upon cremation!
Made it on board somewhat scalded and had a fairly uneventful trip, except that as we approached Kabul the pilot made an announcement that the airport would be closed 'for 15 minutes' and we would be circling over the Hindu Kush for a bit (pictured). When it comes to Kabul sad experience has taught us to expect the worst, so my thoughts ran from IEDs (most common, Improvised Explosive Devices) to other less happy scenarios. In the end we arrived without a hitch only to be chewed out by the non-plussed pilot who informed us that we should be 'proactive' and alert them if delayed. Well and good, only in our vast experience of this particular airline, the wait for its uncomplaining passengers (all humanitarian saints ;) usually stretches to at least an hour.
Anyway, back in Kabul and delighted by the cleanliness of the German clinic. I want to move in! And I loathe hospitals! Blood tests reveal that I'm in recovery. As for the, ahem, other tests...no luck yet.

Deep Thoughts

2006-07-24T08:37:00.000+02:00

I haven't eaten, save for about 3 cups of rice, in 4 days.
I leave for Kabul shortly where I will be required to defecate into a plastic cup (unless its a matchbox as is de rigeur in Taloqan).
I'm wondering how this will be possible.

I'm alive! (I think)

2006-07-23T08:56:00.000+02:00

Apologies to my faithful readers.
I have just now risen from my death bed after the latest bout of most foul food poisoning. Spent all of Thursday night weeping, vomiting, squatting...to sum up, I prayed for death.
Spent Friday and Saturday too weak to stand and wracked with cramps.
Now I'm in the office. Or am I?
Verrrrrry out of body.
According to my mom:

Your body is telling you that you are so influenced by outside forces that you are being poisoned by a situation. It is a psychologically toxic situation.

When the body does this it is an accumulation of toxic thoughts. The body is warning you that those thoughts are not conducive to the fulfillment of your needs. A toxic outlook will block anything positive from coming into your life.

Sounds about right.
So I'll attempt an about turn and say something positive.
On the drive over here my eyes that have seen nothing but the mosquito net above my face for 48 hours were bedazzled by life, colour, movement. How sweet it is to be in the world.

Tomorrow we're flying to Kabul, where I can have some tests done just to make sure that I've ousted the buggers that brought this latest merry-go-round of fun upon me.
Speaking of merry-go-rounds, on Wednesday evening we heard an explosion go off uncomfortably near to our guesthouse. Turns out a Pakistani circus was in town and someone decided to take offense. Fun after all is strictly prohibited by the Quran.
Oops, toxic thoughts creeping in.....
The little dude pictured above brings a smile to my face :)

P.S. Just got an e-mail from mom. She's worried about 'copyright prison'. The book from which the above quote came is 'Your body's telling you: love yourself!' -- check out My Library in the sidebar. I'm sure you're all dying to hear the cold hard truth behind your sniffles and stubbed toes. It's utterly mind blowingly accurate and life changing. Consider yourself forewarned.

'I vant to be alone'

2006-07-20T08:33:00.000+02:00

For the longest time I thought that one of the most difficult things about being here was the loneliness, but recently I've realised that it's actually the fact that one can never be alone. Short of closing myself in my bedroom with the curtains drawn shut, which leaves me feeling like a morose teenager, I'm always surrounded by people. At work I share my office with 2 Afghan men and often a smelly aray of day labourers who have to come in and put their fingerprints on forms. They are so aghast at my naked face that they simply stand and STARE. All efforts at friendly salaams are met with the same stony looks. At home there are always 2 guards who are paid to watch, though I often hate them for it. Also a cleaning lady who spends more time gaping at me than cleaning, this after nine months. Male Cooks who find it odd that I'm a woman yet not cooking, so lots of wry smiles. Plus the male expats who live there too of course. And when I leave the compound hordes of passersby open mouthed, sometimes yelling, waving, always staring.
So for the first time in my life I actually do feel sorry for those famous people who whinge about being in the public eye 24/7, but only a little bit sorry. Because after all they can afford to buy a deserted island.
The picture is of the odd persimmon shaped peaches we eat here. Delicious.

Rant

2006-07-19T12:27:00.000+02:00

I'm heat exhausted and the hell in.
Cultural sensitivity is so much easier when 'just visiting' or when feeling less put upon.
I think the reason for this not so sudden desire to burn everything and everyone I see to the ground is that freedom in the form of leave is a mere 2 weeks (!) away. So close and yet so far.

My protege M has arrived from Faizabad (wrote about her previously in Protege Power, July5th). She has never in her 22 years left her hometown. I've arranged for her to come to this office in Taloqan, meet the staff and practice the new skills I've passed on to her. Then she's off to Kabul for a week long course. I'm almost more excited than she is.
That's well and good.
But the bloody culture (GRRRRRRR) insists that she 'see' her country, for the first time I might add, through the most diabolical contraption ever devised by man. Man being the operative word. I bought one of these charming blue burqa to see just how bad it could be. It's bad. Really bad. The tiny mesh window allows for zero peripheral vision which means I've witnessed several women almost run over by cars, as well as stumbling across the diabolical roads into the endless array of potholes and their disgusting contents. If you move your head from side to side everything fragments and the dizziness is awful. If you hold your head very still its fly vision, only not cool.
Oh and they're made of nylon, so no good in winter or summer.
Of course the women here have had a lot of practice getting used to their prisons.
Still, it makes me SICK every day to see them like this.

M will be staying with one of the women who works for us. I escorted her there, because I wanted to see this woman's new baby. Everyone here thinks I'm totally bizarre for being so interested in children and yet being childless.
Children are sort of like ants. An unavoidable nuisance. Everyone wants them, especially the boys of course, but no one really wants to pay them any attention. As a result kids run wild in the open sewers and many many many die before they reach 5. I have not once seen adult supervision of any kind.
So the newborn was laid out in the concrete passageway howling at the fly net. I made a bee-line for the little soul. While the 3 women who are obviously taking care of him, as I saw them wash his bottom later (pictured above), watched me with great perplexion as I cooed and held his little hand.
A good friend of mine here is a Dutch midwife who has the most wonderful training program for local midwives. She says that of every country she's ever worked in (and that's a lot) she has never seen such a lack of emotion in the birthing room. She says the new mothers scarcely look at their offspring let alone express any desire to hold them. They also labour without making so much as a peep! She says every birth here, and there have been many, has left her depressed.
What is up with that?
Is it unclean perhaps, because it's related to the sex act? Or what?
Is it something their husbands have 'forced' on them like so much other suffering?
Men have spoken quite openly about how their wives tried to rid themselves of unwanted pregnancies by jumping off of high walls, drinking weird potions and other horror stories.
Anyway, I'm sad and frustrated.

Comforts of Home

2006-07-18T05:50:00.001+02:00

Our house is a construction site (recall 'Duck 'n Cover' in June) so we're staying in the so-called Guesthouse which neighbours a mosque. That means we get a less than gentle wake up call every morning at 4am and unfortunately the muezzin is completely tone deaf. So not in the least bit romantic...like 'The English Patient.'
Also, squat toilets only and despite years of yoga I'm still a wonky squatter. It's impossible or at least undesirable to read while on a squat loo :(
Soon we're going home to South Africa, where comforts are many, but not for all.
Just got a heart breaking e-mail from my friend Caroline who is a doctor in New Zealand for now, though originally from South Africa and possibly on her way to Niger with MSF.
I hope she'll forgive me for quoting her:

when i see a kid that's so emaciated, i think what he
needs is food and water, and what that kid needed was
to be held. obviously he needed food as well, but his
most pressing desire was to be picked up again.
and it reminded me (& this is why i cried) of
a skeletal aids baby in SA when i was a medical student,
called Gift. and Gift cried ALL the time in his lonely
hospital bed and when i picked him up, he cried more.
so i put him down, cos i thought he was sore & it hurt
to be held, but now i realise that it hurts more NOT
to be held. and that everyone needs to be held, no
matter what.
so i'm hoping that i wont get embarassed and think
i've made the baby cry and quickly put it down, if
that sort of thing happens again, but that i'll hold
them.

Battered

2006-07-17T06:12:00.000+02:00

After 3 weeks in Faizabad, we're 'home'.
Taloqan is thankfully a lot milder than when we left it, at least for now (it's almost 9am ;), though dusty dusty dusty.
My kittens were thrilled to see me and don't seem to have a shred of shyness left between the 5 of them. They march about in between the fairly savage workmen that people this compound. No qualms. They clambered all over me and made me wonder how I survived without them.
My ducklings are firmly into teenagerhood and wonder of wonders, of the 2 that escaped being munched by Mamma Cass (wild cat mother of the Famous 5), one is a boy and one a girl! Now that's lucky :)
Yesterday was awful. I spent at least 7 hours trying not to throw up as I got thrown against the head rest and window. I've attached a photo that just can't convey the nightmarishness of the ordeal. You can see our radio antenna and a convoy of UN trucks. Can you make out the sizeable boulders and ruts...no fun, I promise.
Saw glorious things through the veil of misery -- fields of sunflowers on high plains that I had previously thought were barren year round, huge bales of golden hay, girls screaming like I was all the Beatles rolled into one (a woman! without a burqa!! in the front seat!!!), pitch black coal miners. Check out My Photos.
Took refuge in DVDs to numb the pain last night. Remembered that there is a reason I sold my soul to NYU and Citibank to get that MA in Cinema. Is there any balm more readily available?
True, a full body massage wouldn't go amiss either.
The films I'm loving right now:
Smiles of a Summer Night (scintillating Bergman)
New World (the prelapsarian paradise chapter especially, definitely Malick's strength)
Baraka (made me realise how blessed I am, because I've seen most of those things with my own two eyes! Also, that religions aren't all bad, really difficult to believe these days. That ritual can be unifying. That Japan was as bad as I felt it to be ;)
Are you as impressed as I am at the selection of bootleg DVDs I scrummaged together on Chicken Street in Kabul.

Sensory Clash

2006-07-15T07:34:00.000+02:00

It's Saturday. I slept in and dreamt of places I've been and those I hope to visit soon.
Met a wry Brit the other night. It was an awful evening, I dragged myself out even though I wasn't in the mood for socialising, in the hopes of meeting some women to chat to since I'm the only expat woman in our NGO and I really enjoy the company of women! Instead it was a huge sprawling mess of men -- the 'security' types (ie. mercenaries replete with flak jackets and butch weapons), old hands too know-it-all to listen to anything anyone else has to say and locals, which made for an awkward and totally un-fun get together. To top it all off the Governor showed up. So we all sucked on...if you've been reading this blog you'll be able to guess...greasy kebabs and rice, in deathly silence.
At first I thought it might be the lack of everyone's favourite social lubricant, since the most exciting beverage on offer was 7-Up (pretty damn exciting in these parts actually). Then I put it down to the lack of gender diversity. Eventually settled on the truth, locals and expats do not a merry party make. Sad but true in my experience.
Anyway, back to the Brit. He'd only been here a few days and is on a very short one month contract. He lives luxuriously in Zimbabwe, some of you might be surprised to hear that's an option in Zim, but it is...especially if you're British. What's changed.
His insight into Afghanistan: "It's so joyless. Life's too short."
Today I feel the same way.
In an effort to elevate my mood I've been making mental notes about different sense memories I have of all the places I've lived in and visited and how they often clash culturally.
For example:
In Japan people consider it terribly polite to slurp noodles as loudly as possible (including spagetti, which is after all just an Italian noodle, apparently kidnapped from China by early Italian explorers. Eaten with chopsticks and served sprinkled with nori in Italian restaurants throughout Japan. Attached a pic of some Udon Slurpers in training) . This put J and I off eating at ramen and soba restaurants, because culturally we've been programmed to find that rather nauseating.
In Malaysia I kept thinking the country was suffering from terminally blocked drains, until I discovered the same reek emanating from a bowl of food. The culprit: black shrimp paste, made from the brains of prawns...I had no idea they had brains either! At least not enough of them to use as a delicacy.
In America people would rather sniff, loudly and frequently, than blow their noses. I remember sitting through lectures, and worse exams, stifling the impulse to wretch.
Here in Afghanistan people find the sound of high pitched female voices very attractive, I often have to turn down the volume before my brain splits into teeny tiny fragments.
And in South Africa people think that bits of raw dried meat (biltong) are absolutely delicious ;) Even though I'm a vegetarian, I have to agree! And that's the wonder of belonging to a culture. It defies logic.

Hiding Out

2006-07-14T12:28:00.000+02:00

The illness that's been plaguing J for the past week is doing its damndest to get me in its clutches. Not even my Friday walk could cheer me up, came across quite a few faces that looked the way I felt, attached for your viewing pleasure...
Could be the prospect of the journey back to Taloqan looming on the horizon.
Ugggggggg. 8 hours of p-a-i-n.
Also came across little girls making mud pies. Did you know that children in every culture of the world play hide-&-seek. I wonder if it's a survival instinct? Like kittens hunting one another. Lord knows I'm in hiding mode today.

To Blog or Not to Blog

2006-07-13T07:39:00.000+02:00

What to say. I feel raw. No good reason...maybe physical exhaustion, PMS (never to be underrated), the stars, intestinal parasites, bad kharma, who knows.
I've been procrastinating and reading through blog buddy (as opposed to someone I've known in the flesh) acg's site. I'm struck by how accurately she maps out all the misgivings I've had about this blogging business. The boundaries of private/public and just how far would be too far. Since I primarily started this thing to keep my family and friends, of incredibly diverse sensibilities, in touch with me who feels so out of touch, shouldn't I just keep it simple, bland, inoffensive? I suffer from the 'can't we all get along' syndrome. You know, gotta keep everyone happy.
Acg said at the start of her blog, about a year back, that she shouldn't be troubling herself over these ethical questions since no one's reading anyway. I giggled because her map thingy is clocking an impressive number of hits. So really, congrats on being honest.
Forgive me if I say anything that offends, but more to the point, forgive me if I pussy foot around issues.

Every time I go away

2006-07-12T12:25:00.000+02:00

I find that I'm sad to leave Afghanistan, even for short breaks (exactly 3 weeks to go till we jet off to Europe and South Africa for a month).
Odd, because it's often just plain exhausting being here.

I like lists, so here are two: --

Things I love about Afghanistan

People touch their hearts gently when they greet you.

Little kids who know about cameras make what we would consider a bincoular gesture with their hands which means 'take my picture.'

Little kids who've never seen a camera (most of them) shriek and then burst with joy on seeing their images reproduced for the very first time. The old man in the photo dissolved into tears when he saw his photo, it was an unforgettable moment.

People discuss absolutely anything with gusto...no taboos, no reservations (surprising but true).

The rugged natural beauty.

An almost complete lack of commercialism -- no signs, no goods other than what comes out of the earth. OK, there is some plastic crap from China, but only in the towns. And Kabul is basically another country.

Women that I've known for 2 minutes give me bear hugs, kiss me endlessly on both cheeks and insist that I visit their homes, eat with them, hell, live with them!

The opportunity to help.

Things I'm not too keen on:

The food.

The parasites that go along with the above.

Killer "roads"... just got in from Baharak. Ouch :(

A complete absence of women in public. I'm sorry, but the anonymous blue burqas scuttling around don't count!

Filthy looks from men (a friend asked why I don't just scowl back, believe me I've tried and it just makes me angrier. So now I've perfected the art of looking everywhere but at the bastards).

Lack of security, more especially the way in which it prevents me from moving about freely.

Extremists, glaring gender inequality and all that.

So, as I get really excited about getting away, eating sushi, walking about freely in comfy clothes appropriate to the weather, hanging out with friends and family, I also feel a tinge of regret leaving behind the country that time forgot.

3rd Language Slot

2006-07-11T08:42:00.000+02:00

I speak English and Afrikaans, no problem. But I have a theory that the 3rd language slot can lead to a lot of muddle. I studied French for years, lived in Japan for a year and now I'm in predominantly Dari/Persian speaking Afghanistan.
As a result this sentence popped out today:

'Bale, c'est muzakashi desu.'
(Dari: yes French: it's Japanese: difficult)

Talk about lost in translation!

In her own words

2006-07-10T12:01:00.000+02:00

This story was submitted to me by one of the women who works for our NGO:

Am I a Human Being or a Ball to be Kicked Around

My husband left me when there were two babies in my arms, he disappeared one day and nobody knew his whereabouts. People told me he went to Iran, but nobody could say for sure. I fed my children and raised them on my own, just as the two limbs of my body. Days turned into months, months into years and all this time I wondered if my husband would ever return, but he didn’t. I faced lots of difficulties. Bread for my children was hard to win and as much as I hated it, I was forced to ask for money. It was humiliating, but I had no choice.

After five years, with no sign of my husband, my family convinced me to marry another person. I had to, since it was the will of my elders and according to our customs.

I had two more children from my second husband and after five years with him, one day someone came and told me that my first husband had returned. I felt as if someone had pulled out my soul. My husband was in an even worse state. It was very confusing, especially when I thought of how to explain all this to my two oldest children who are teenagers now.

The situation is still looming, both men want me to be with them. Whatever the outcome, I know I won’t having any say in it, since nobody will ask me.

To Jurm and Back Again

2006-07-09T07:53:00.000+02:00

Strap yourselves in, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
I wanted to title this post 'At Play in the Poppy Fields of the Lord' or 'An Awfully Big Adventure', both of which would have been appropriate. Instead I urge you to see the films that bear those titles (drop 'poppy' from the first).
Yesterday we set out for Jurm, Poppy Capital of the World, at 5:30am.
This part of the world is so remote and inaccessible that the one tortuous road running through it is lined with vast fields of gorgeous, illegal poppies.
I've posted pics of this rare sight on flickr. You'll notice the nice touch of hedging the fields with lush marijuana bushes.
Along the road up into the Hindu Kush and onto the high plains I spied the usual sights -- men holding hands, kalashnikovs casually slung over their shoulders; and the more unusual ones of grubby little tots carrying crude implements for milking the poppies, brightly coloured women bowed over the tall poppies carefully gathering the precious white latex that once dried can be used to create opiates, including heroin.
All along the way little boys sat atop donkeys laden with dried poppy stalks, the seeds pressed to make oil.
We also came across a simple cave shrine, how old, no one knows.
I saw green meadows the likes of which I never suspected to find in Afghanistan.
It was spectacular.
On reaching the completed canal reconstruction, I interviewed a colourful old dude who swore he was 50 (looked at least 75) and we all waited for the governor...for 3 hours!
Fortunately it was a beautiful spot overlooking a fine green valley.
All that was missing was a hammock, a good book and refreshments.
The villagers brought some melon but as I've been feeling green thanks to the dreaded lurgy (giardia, I'll spare you the unsavoury details), I thought it best to avoid anything contaminated by less than pure water.
Eventually the governor arrived and brusquely took it all in before hustling us off in the dust of his motorcade to the opening of a school.
Having not eaten all day I was disappointed, though not in the least bit surprised, to be fed a huge plate of oily rice concealing joints of mutton. For once I was not the only woman present, an American from the donour organisation kept me company. As she put it: 'There's nothing quite like eating a sheep for breakfast.'
The opening of the school was the usual endless speech making by officials and then the relief of hearing the patient kids sing.
I caused a bit of a riot when I took a photo of some of the schoolgirls. On seeing their images on the LCD of my camera they let out a collective shriek that brought the proceedings to an unceremonious halt. They then threatened to crush each other and me to death. This despite soldiers yielding big sticks (and kalashnikovs of course) to keep them in check.
We stopped at another project site that was incredibly beautiful and were treated to an impromptu picnic by the richest villagers I've ever seen in Afghanistan. All the kids dolled up in little denim suits, carrying bags of candy. Hmmm...satellite dishes perched atop adobe dwellings. Poppy pays.
Kids scrambled up the biggest, oldest mulberry trees I've ever seen and shook the white mulberries free.
All wonderful.
Until the return trip.
I'll spare you details of the 3 and half hours of unadulterated torture. When we got back at about 9 last night I was so exhausted that although I hadn't eaten all day, I couldn't get the fork to my mouth, kept missing.
Collapsed into a painful sleep...whiplash and a thousand aches and pains.
Was it worth it?
You bet!