Home Again, Home Again...

Our last days in Bali were good ones. After leaving central Java, we landed at a guesthouse late in the evening in a tourist enclave called Legion, near the Denpasar airport. The recent and tragic events in Japan forced us to cancel our final week of travel in Tokyo. Hence, we settled for a Japanese meal on our first night back in Bali. Once seated on the floor at a long and low wooden table we went a little wild. As we looked at the menu we smiled at each other, ordered some beer and decided to splurge. The fresh oysters were delicious and the beer tasted mighty fine! Considering all that we ate, one might think we had previously been stranded on a desert island or had been castaways at sea for some time without access to food or water. Admittedly, Jogjakarta was not the gourmet capital of the world. A couple of nights toward the end of our stay, I decided that given the choice of eating cold oily fried food and overly sweetened dishes that lacked character, going a little hungry was just fine by me. I know, hard to imagine, but true.

On the last day in Legion, check out time was 12noon. Once again, we packed and stored our luggage. The first leg of our flight out was a seven hour red-eye to Seoul, scheduled to depart at 1:30AM. With time to kill, we easily infiltrated a nearby beachfront hotel with two swimming pools that we had sussed out the previous day. We made ourselves comfortable and spent a long afternoon swimming and sunbathing.

Next, we received our final spa treatment. Two cute, young Balinese girls who could have used a little more training and some deodorant gave us our treatments. It was a cool place to hang out for 3 hours. We were lightly rubbed, scrubbed and had our faces lathered with about ten different kinds of cream. Then we shared a scented flower bath, rinsed off and changed clothes. All fresh and clean, we headed off for another Japanese meal which was even better than the previous night's splurge. We saw the coolest Jazz band in Indonesia whose members flawlessly played difficult compositions by John Coltrane, Miles Davis and George Benson. They were smoking hot! At about 11PM we retrieved our bags and headed off to the airport.

Now it's decompression time. It was a long haul back to this side of the world--twenty plus hours on two different Korean Air flights. When we finally landed, we were met at O'Hare by our lovely niece Courtney. She graciously offered to give us airport transport to Amtrak's Union station in downtown Chicago. We stopped by Greektown for a tasty lunch, made a quick stop at Whole Foods, were dropped at the station and soon after boarded the southbound train.

About 3 hours later and a long nap on the train, our cab pulled into our drive. As I looked at the house, I felt happy. I thought...that's my house...that's my yard...those are my flowers. The blooming blue bells waited for my return, the sun was shining and the air was warm. Spring is a wonderful time to come home.

I believe Dorothy's character from the "Wizard of Oz" said it best,
"There is no place like home."

Sightseeing Anyone?

Well, I never thought I would say this but I do believe my wanderlust has been satiated. Our breakfast conversation went something like this, "Well what should we do today, more sightseeing? Take in that highly recommended Hindu temple -- it's only 12 kilometers away. Partake in an evening of traditional Javanese dance with Gamelan music, see a shadow puppet show? We could visit the local mall (the fancy one) for some souvenirs -- they probably have a food court."

My smart alecky response was, "The only sight I want to see right now is O'Hare International Airport."

Surely, once I am home, I will remember the delights of traveling. I will have more appreciation for the different cultures I have experienced. Somehow I will be enriched by the struggles, the inconveniences and the unknown circumstances encountered.

However, right now I'm tired; tired of the tourist price -- even if it is a pittance to our norm, relatively speaking. I'm tired of the repetitive and familiar line of questions: “What country you from? First time here in...(Fill in the blank)? How long you stay? Tomorrow you have program?”

Later on, we venture out to do a little shopping. On our first day out in Jogja, central Java, the plot thickens. Since I have lost all love for the endless haggling on prices, we decide to visit a shop where all the shop items are marked--no bargaining. That day I was in one of my moods -- it's hot, humid and I'm worn down -- I’m finding it difficult to put on a happy face and doing my best to avoid all unsolicited conversation. Inevitably a local strikes up a conversation with Paul which I conveniently try to ignore. In retrospect, I'm not even sure he worked in the store where we were shopping. Once the local discovers that Paul is an "artist," the game is on. He chats up “Mr. Paul” for some time, gathering information as I browse the contents of the store without finding anything I really fancy. We mill about for awhile. I choose a wooden cane for Mom with some flowers carved into it and Paul finds a shirt. We pay for the items and the Javanese man reappears. He smiles, extends his hand. Hello… Mrs. Paul?

The conversation goes something like this. I have friend, an artist. Today last day of group show, tomorrow leaving for Sumatra, benefit for Mount Merapi victims. Come, have look. I take you there. Hmm... I think, aren't all the victims of the recent volcanic eruption dead?

As we exit the store, Paul is led away by yet another tout on a mission. Reluctantly, I follow along. We’re off, on our wild goose chase. Paul, constantly curious, always willing to play the game, is always perceived as a rich Japanese tourist. “Oh, you from America.” Even better or at least just as moneyed, I imagine they surmise. I think, Here we go again even though I have vowed to never be led down this road that I have walked so many times before. The tout leads the way down a hidden pedestrian alley. The route is just off a main street in a prime shopping area called Malioboro (sounds and looks like Marlboro). The way was interesting and off-the-beaten-path. Nevertheless, for some reason, I felt like a chump, expected the worse and prepared to be taken advantage of once again. But to be fair, this was my experience. Paul was delighted, always up for some entertainment, eager to meet the locals and interested in the art-making process.

When we reached the store the tout left us and we were greeted by two of the artists. Again, the familiar meet and greet questioning began. Once the introductions were complete, the process of batik was explained verbally and with a visual guide. Tea was served. My mood began to soften. We were invited to look through the stacks of framed work which admittedly were well done. Paul went first as I sat drinking my tea. The two men attentively gauged our interests and pulled out the batiks that our eyes hesitated upon, even if for a brief moment. Paul had his picks. I had mine. Both Paul and I liked the work of one artist whose work portrayed two women dancing in a very fluid and colorful way. A lot of reds and oranges were used as were unique and decorative details. It was very expressive. They were the dancers. The next piece was similar with the same two female figures, but with less color and these women carried baskets of fish on top of their heads. We were told this one had less hope and hence less color because of the hardships the women endured. I also chose a more traditional scene of a landscape where individuals worked in a rice paddy. We were told it was created by a female artist. We listened to the artist’s stories and interpretations behind the work. In the end, after some gentle price negotiating, we came away with two beautiful batiks and $200 less in our bank account.

Maybe our smooth-talking and very convincing salesperson was the artist. Maybe he told the truth about 75 percent of the proceeds benefiting people hurt by the Mount Merapi eruption. Maybe this was the last day to buy before the show left for Sumatra. Maybe he was married to a Canadian for six years and decided to part as friends because of the huge cultural disparities and maybe he had a son living in Vancouver, BC. And, maybe not. We will probably never know.

Goodbye Beautiful Bali...

Thank you for all you have given. See you next time.

Today we leave for Yogyakarta (Jogya) in central Java--four hours to Denpasar by car, followed by a one hour flight, next another car for the remaining 25 kilometers--time depending on the condition of the road. Our destination: Borobudur, an ancient Buddhist stupa and temple complex and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Or rather, just a pile of rocks, according to Danny, as we chatted online while I was still in Tamil Nadu in rural India. After we ended our chat and I signed off, I looked at the link he had just sent with his invitation to meet in Java and all the images of Borobudur. I thought, OMG! That Danny and his sense of humor. The images of the site were fantastic!

Danny Kristiyanto, is the young Indonesian Fulbright scholar who lived in the United States for one year to study Information Technology at Parkland College in Champaign, IL. During his first semester, Danny lived with Paul and I at 504. He was the most gracious house guest I have ever known.

I will always remember the first time I saw him on that hot and humid August afternoon, wearing flip flops, a white tank top and white shorts that extremely contrasted his smooth dark skin. There he sat at our dining room table reading a magazine looking as cool as a cucumber. As I walked in, he greeted me with the warmest smile and just radiated happiness and a sincerity that is rare among young men of his age. I immediately liked him. During the coming months, Danny and I shared long talks over cups of Earl Grey at the kitchen counter. We talked about our families, school, the differences between Western and Eastern culture, foreign languages. I was learning Spanish at the time. He taught me a little Bahasa Indonesian. Later, we talked about the cold frigid weather and how to dress for it, how to deal with the seemingly endless and dark days of winter and being cooped up inside and the magic he felt upon seeing his first snowflakes. All this happened of course, when he wasn't running late to catch an MTD bus, or at Parkland in one of the computer labs, studying, or at one of the endless international student meetings he was required to attend, or doing homework for his 21-hour course load. Did I mention he was driven? I've not come across many young students with the wherewithal to take on a 21-hour course load? Needless to say, it will be good to see my friend again.

Paul and I will spend two nights inside the park before moving south to Jogja. After our first mornings guided tour that begins at 5am to see the sunrise, we will be introduced by a hired guide to the grounds and some of its history. At around noon we will meet Danny and one or two of his chums for lunch.

Also, did I mention that Mount Merapi, the most active volcano in Indonesia is close by? It erupted from October to December just last year. But hey, what are the chances of it happening again so soon, right?

More on that to come...

Big Roar of the Lion...

That is if you make the mistake of touching any venom containing tentacles of the Lion fish. I took this image from a book. The one we saw was about 20 feet away and it's tentacles were black. The creature immediately caught my eye. I wasn't sure if it were a large shrimp or a lobster. Later I found its true identity.

So Much Beauty Everywhere

It is no wonder that the Balinese have such a lovely, peaceful demeanor when beauty surrounds. Even my breakfast, Bubur Ayam--a hot rice porridge with hints of chicken in broth, a boiled egg and topped with fresh Sambal Bali, a mixture of freshly chopped lemongrass, shallots, red chili and ginger with a touch of oil looks sumptuous and bursts with flavor on the tastebuds.

Under the Sea...

Yesterday, after talking with some of the friendly folks at the Bali Diving Academy, I am learning more about some of the showy creatures I saw on our snorkeling trips. I was nearly enticed to take part in a scuba refresher course and go diving. But nae, snorkeling is just as good with less worries. I was loaned an Asian Pacific Reef Guide book to help with identifications. Little did I know that the odd and unusual fish with about eight protruding finger-like spines at the third snorkel site, called Post One was a lion fish and extremely poisonous. If we had misbehaved and broken the rule of "No Touching Anything," we could have possibly suffered some grave consequences. Shooo-sha!

The stars I mentioned seeing, fall in a category known as Snake Sea Stars and are named merely, Blue Sea Stars. I also saw beautiful giant clams embedded in coral with their iridescent blue, green and purple sides facing up. Surprisingly they are called Boring Giant Clam--but certainly not to me. When I looked closely, I could actually see small breath-like movement. At that moment, I had the realization that everything I witnessed was alive. There were also various colors of parrot fish--some dark blue with red lips, angel fish and a fish that to me looked similar to an angel fish with a long, white, thin thread of a dorsal fin that angled upward. It had bright white, yellow and black stripes with a somewhat protruding nose. That one was a Butterfly fish. Some of the coral were in reality sponges of various types, shapes and colors. Other fish were Round Bat Fish, Sailfin Snappers, a few small Barracuda plus too many more to name. The sea is really brimming at these sites around the island and thankfully protected, as it is part of the nearby National Park.

Today is a Good Day to Die!

Ok, my choice is that it not be that day, but if it were so, I would feel content that I have lived a good life. It's another beautiful day in the neighborhood! It's gorgeous here in Bali, even when it's pouring down rain. I took this image yesterday afternoon. It often rains heavily later in the day. Today we experienced another awesome snorkeling trip out to Menjangan Island. Snorkeling off the island is literally like swimming in a humongous tropical fish aquarium. Again, such a variety of brilliantly colored fish and various types of coral on the reef. Many of the fish are swimming along in schools. There are also unusual to my experience, periwinkle blue sea stars that cling to the surface of coral in great numbers. Schools of small silver fish with hundreds in the group flutter about like snowflakes in the air on a cold winter's day. Snorkeling is oh--so much fun here! I just love it! Why creatures ever left the sea is beyond my wildest dreams. It is so much better below the surface than on dry land. At the very end of our dive we saw a huge transparent jelly fish about the size of a large mixing bowl undulating along with determination. Of course, since we don't have an underwater camera, we only have our memories to share.

Falling Out at Naughty Nuri's

The last thing I remember is the weight of my head. As it quickly felt too heavy to bear, I said to Paul, "the sooner we get out of here the better." Not words he wanted to hear, I'm sure, as a rack of ribs, hot from the flames of the open pit grill had just been set before him.

The last thing I saw was a spoofed advert, adapted to fit the existing collection at Nuri's--a renowned expat joint north of Ubud. This one read "Eat, Pay, Leave." Clever copywriting, for sure, as are all the others. This layout of course, an exact replica of the original bookcover for Eat, Pray, Love--about a woman's year-long travels to Italy, India and Bali.

Reawakening, I sat up to a short, round, dark-skinned and doe-eyed waitress who non-chalantly handed me a bottle of cold water. She then placed a bag of ice on the nape of my neck. Ahhh...as I recall, that felt really good. Dumbfounded, I said, or maybe I just thought, What happened? Several people stood over me, as they do a person who has just fainted. One very kind local man, a chef and restaurant owner named Greg who lived in Seminyak offered to drive us back to our guesthouse. Since it was raining and we were on a rented scooter we gladly accepted it.

For Paul, the experience was somewhat harrowing. Especially since earlier in the day he had given me little sympathy and occupied himself with what for me seemed like hours of endless photo editing and retouching for his future show-and-tell Picassa bonanza/extravaganza. All this while I laid on the bed motionless, feeling dizzy, weak and disoriented. In these moments I hated Bali--even the sound of crickets and frogs were unbearable and sounded more like a loud rock band echoing off the stone walls than what one usually loves about being in the jungle of Bali.

So having me nearly fall into his plate of ribs in a daze, my eyes open and expressing no signs of life--unlike the verbally exaggerated and opinionated Bonnie that he knows--freaked him out and made him go into fight or flight mode. He told me later that he had laid me down on the bench and rushed to the counter and requested an ambulance be called. Poor Paul. I hate that it had to come to this, but I am glad that the reality of my illness was now really apparent.

The heat and humidity of Bali is more than I had remembered during my Esalen massage training just three years ago. It is really hard to take when you are not used to it and your immune system is weakened from traveling. Now, almost a week after this episode, and only after seeing Dr Soma, a skilled acupuncturist in Pemuteran, my energy is resurfacing and I am feeling more like myself again.

Arrived Singapore 22:00

So clean, so civilized. Even airport bathrooms have wipes with spray sanitizers for the seats. Oh My!

Ok, I change my mind about moving to rural India. I must have been under the spell.

This may come as no surprise, but Paul already has all our meals planned--first stop 24-hour hawker stands, just one taxi ride away.

More to come!

All is well, just having a quiet relaxing day...

No pictures or words now. Just having a quiet reflective day, reading and relaxing after morning in the wonder room and lunch at Roma's kitchen.

Paul did go to the culmination of a three-day Shakti ceremony in the nearby village of Alankuppam last night. After hearing chanting being broadcast over loud speakers drifting into our airspace early in the morning and beginning around midnight, as well as other unidentifiable sounds of merrymaking he decided to investigate. At one moment as the crowd thickened he found himself in a shower of one rupi coins that were being thrown. As he held his camera high to capture the chaos the lcd viewfinder was struck by a flying coin and destroyed. I will withhold my comments here.

Hey, isn't Ganesha supposed to be the destroyer of obstacles? Funny, as I just realized I am constantly telling him that all the photography is taking away from his ability to be in the moment and have an authentic experience.

28 Feb: Auroville celebrates Paul's birthday!

Just for fun, that is what I told Paul.

Today is Auroville's birthday. Once again, How Auspicious for us that we are here at this special time? Last Tuesday, 21 February, just two days after our arrival was the birthday of The Mother.

We set the alarm for 4am and never has it sounded so loud. But without much effort, we readied ourselves and just before five, we headed out into the dark night to join the many others making their way to the Matrimandir's outdoor amphitheater for the bonfire celebration.

I have always loved these early morning events, rising before dawn and collectively sitting in silence, calmly listening and watching the day break. It is magical.

Sincerity

sin·cer·i·ty
–noun, plural -ties

freedom from deceit, hypocrisy, or duplicity; probity in intention or in communicating; earnestness

—Synonyms
truth, candor, frankness. See honor

—Antonyms
duplicity

Sincerity is one of the 12 virtues of the Supreme Mother. The remaining virtues include: Humility, Gratitude, Perseverance, Aspiration, Receptivity, Progress, Courage, Goodness, Generosity, Equality and Peace.

Inside each of the twelve petals of the Matrimandir (The Mother's shrine), exists a meditation room that can be visited here. The past two mornings I have gone to the Sincerity petal room to sit after the inner chamber.

Map of India

Pondi, as the locals call it is in India's most southern state of Tamil Nadu on the Bay of Bengal. (Click map to see larger image)

Everyone should come!

We got our introduction into the inner chamber today...of the Mantrimandir.

The philosophy and symbolic meanings are remarkable.

Auroville needs you to help build the remaining 11 gardens surrounding this creation.

Everyone should come!

And Now...

Afsanah Guest House--one of the many well designed structures of Auroville. You are looking at the main building of Afsanah that serves as reception and a venue for dining. Just inside this corner of the building is my favorite table. In the morning, the sounds of nature are hypnotic--so wonderful, and the water garden view is unbeatable with the locals cycling by in the background or working in the garden.

In the beginning...

Image: From the book Turning Points: An inner story of the beginnings of Auroville

Well the dust that has clouded my head now for days is finally beginning to settle.

Weee...what a ride! I am always so surprised that Paul and I always seem to end up just where we need to be.

Before leaving on this trip, I had a strong desire to experience something deeper on a spiritual level. Since India was one of our destinations, we both applied for a week-long silent retreat at Gurudev Siddha Peeth in Ganeshpuri, but were denied an invitation. Oh well, and what a blessing that turned out to be. Otherwise we would never have ended up here at the center, in the eye of the hurricane at Auroville.

Initially, our plans were to visit Darjeeling, but because of the Gorkhaland struggle for independence from India's state of West Bengal and the strike that closed all northbound roads into the hills, the Gods sent us even further north, to Sikkim instead. We may as well have been in Tibet. After a week in Gangtok, our plans were to fly off to Singapore since I had no intention of a return to Calcutta, even if just through the airport. Paul booked tickets with SpiceJet, a low cost airline that routed us through Chennai. Once I heard this, I knew we had to journey further south into Tamil Nadu's Pondicherry, but more specifically Auroville.

Wow, what good fortune! Nothing less than miracles could have created this settlement. Situated literally in the Indian desert lies numerous small enclaves of architectural wonders that include guest houses, private homes, solar kitchens serving daily meals to hundreds of permanent residents and guests, schools, including an art school, an amphitheater for live performance, bakeries, retail outlets for handmade clothes, potteries, a visitor center and much more that we have yet to discover.

In addition, there are gardens practicing organic and sustainable farming. A very strong focus on conservation is practiced here--especially, water. I am learning to enjoy cool-water bucket baths and have a pretty good method for them. I realized that I can get by with only using about 4 gallons of water to bathe--less if I don't wash the long hair. Hot water is available to guests for a slightly higher room rate.

There is also a free clinic for residents and employees of Auroville. Guests and the local Tamil population pay nominal fees. On our second day here, I visited a doctor there in the building called Aspiration. After a short wait, I met with the doctor and her assistant. The consultation cost $4 and the prescribed Neem cream for an allergic reaction to the sun was about the same.

This is quite an interesting laboratory experiment that means to be inclusive of all cultures and populations and we have landed right in the thick of it. I feel so fortunate.

More to come as it unfolds and I have the energy to share.

February 23

Planning to attend a basic introduction to Integral yoga at Auroville. Yoga as a guide to purposeful living, (I think) not just Hatha yoga, the physical postures as most westerners understand the word.

Also, looks like we will be bounced out of here on March 2 since the present guest house we are in, designed in a gorgeous Japanese style is booked. I will post some pictures later today. We are off to Pondicherry this morning.

Another world, and we're in India now

The concepts of this environment are well, very idealistic. Paul has been doing a much better job with providing the history about each stop since our arrival in India in his blog. My brain seems to have gone berserk, which renders me unable just now to write. Please peruse Paul's musings.

We aim to sink in here at Auroville to discover it's mysteries which are unspeakable in this moment. We have been tooling around within the grounds on a two-person motorbike--me at the wheel and Paul navigating. Since most roads are red cinders it is necessary to keep a watchful eye on the ground and of course the cows. More as it unfolds.

Now South to Auroville

Tomorrow will be a long day of travel. First, we go by hired car four or five hours to Bagdogra airport to board our flight to Chennai. From there, we meet our driver to Auroville, the community founded by Mirra, the French devotee and partner of Sri Aurobindo, (later known as the Mother or Mother Mirra). Auroville is described as a utopian setting for sustainable living. It is just a few miles outside of Pondicherry in the state of Tamil Nadu.

On a clear day you can see forever

Our last day's outing was to the Tibetan Buddhist Enchey Monastery high above the city. If you look closely you will glimpse the snow covered peaks of Mount Kangchenjunga.

Gangtok, capital city in East Sikkim

(See more pictures of Gangtok)

Taking refuge at Nor Khill Hotel

After spending three very chilly nights at the Bamboo Grove Resort in a perfectly fine room with a view, we moved to the exquisitely appointed and tasteful Nor Khill Hotel. We chose Bamboo from Trip Advisor before leaving Siliguri, sight unseen. Had there been some heat in the room (the small space heater provided was not adequate) we probably would have stayed longer. The location was central, up a few steep flights of concrete steps (no handrails) just above Tibet road. The staff of cute young boys were attentive and all but the youngest even spoke English quite well. However, since we are not accustomed to inside temps hovering in the 40s, we both caught a chill and are nursing head colds. With a touch of guilt, we decided it was time to splurge on more comfortable dwellings and made our departure.

What a blessing! The Nor Khill is living in luxury--so civilised. Never has a hot bath felt so good!

With Good Luck + Strength we are off to Gangtok!

To our surprise the general manager of the bus station approached Paul yesterday and asked him where he wanted to go. Is that a miracle or what?

This morning Paul left the hotel about 7am to stand in the long line for the gents to buy bus tickets. I came a bit later to relieve him so he could walk around and suss out the situation. He encountered a European couple who had been in line since 5am. They had just got their tickets almost four hours later. Then she came to us and implored, go to the ladies line, go to the ladies, it's much shorter.

Apparently, they sell one gent ticket, then one lady ticket. Ok. Then Paul went to see the bus station general and he put our names down on the list to leave. Paul paid him 500 rupees. Tourist quota? Who knows? A little unfair to the locals, yes i suppose. Now we check out, go to the bus station and hope we get our tickets and on the bus. The buses are supposed to arrive at noon.

To Good Luck + Strength!

ps. the internet may be spotty in Sikkim so not sure when i will post next. ciao! --bonnie

Sister always said to have a Plan B

Originally I had hoped to visit Darjeeling, a former British hill station located in the foothills of the Himalyas for the cooler climate, the views and of course to drink some tea. On the second day in Calcutta, the morning newspaper arrived and the headline read "Khukuri slash reopens gash. Cop shots kills two, hills on fire." What!?

Apparently, there is a conflict between the government and a group of the population that wants independence from the state of West Bengal. A female government official was bayoneted. In retaliation, police opened fire killing two young protesters. Later a government tourist office was set fire in a town near Darjeeling. Now a strike exists and all three roads going north into the hills are closed. As an alternative, tourists are being directed to visit the state of Sikkim. The quagmire is that many many people are now trying to obtain bus tickets to the capital city Gangtok in Sikkim. In support of the strike, no private cars are driving there -- only government escorted buses are available. It's quite an interesting calamity. Tomorrow we will try to get tickets, to Sikkim, not Darjeeling. Paul plans to wake up early and join the line. We will see.

Patience

Above our bed on a pale blue wall, placed too high and a little bit crooked, a framed poster with the title Patience hangs--a pretty nature scene with a waterfall. Below the picture the quote reads...

Patience
To everything there is a season and
a time to every purpose under heaven.
Ecclesiates 3:1

How appropriate as we are now in a holding pattern here in the crossroads town of Siliguri in the state of West Bengal, India.

Our first meal in a small eatery. I had veg-aloo (potato) with rice and a small bowl of yellow lentil dahl. The workers were friendly and eager to please, especially the young boy.

Darjeeling Mail

On our first afternoon in Calcutta (tues feb 9) we were lucky enough to obtain tourist quota tickets on the Darjeeling Mail overnight train.

The following day, after a full day with our delightful guide Shanti, a 75-year-old retired history teacher who came highly recommended in a Frommer's travel guide, we packed up our gear once more and headed to Calcutta's Sealdah station to board the train for the 10pm departure.

Climbing into the upper bunks of a four-person berth in the AC Two class car we were delighted to be on our way but thoroughly saturated from the day's activities. We had been shuttled around the sites that Shanti felt were relevant via a hired taxi that he bamboozled into the 5-hour drive as we stood out of site. Shanti warned that if the driver saw our white skin, it would certainly up the ante of the afternoon.

The next morning, (feb 10) sometime between 8 and 9am we arrived in New Jalpaiguri. After pausing for a few minutes to take in the sites (sometimes stepping out into what is India is overwhelming and takes some time to process) we selected and negotiated or tried to negotiate the cost of our transport to the Hotel Manila and headed for Siliguri, the town where we now are hoping to secure transport to Sikkim, our plan B.

Literally on the streets

The first night the Bangladeshis sleep in the train station. The next night they sleep on the street. The third day they set up a business.

The food looks good but unfortunately too risky as the dishes are washed right next to the gutter that many folks use as the toliet.

Oh Calcutta!

Tuesday, February 8.

First impressions...never have I seen Anything like this!

This will take some time to acclimate to. However, I don't think I ever could...the noise, the squalor, the stench, the stares.

It's time to get out of this place!

Elephant Kisses

The highlight of Thailand!

On our last day we visited Elephant Nature Park, a truly remarkable sanctuary for elephants rescued from mostly abusive situations like forced labor, unknowing tourist supported market begging and trekking camps. We got to feed and bathe them several times. Elephants only sleep 4 hours each day and literally eat tons of fresh fruit and veggies. Each has a personal minder or mahout.

What an operation!

In this second photo the woman on the ground below is the park's founder, Lek. A small Thai woman with a big heart for elephants and other animals. She taught this elephant to give kisses--a little scary for the receivers. She has also rescued over 60 dogs from Chiangmai's street markets and the surrounding areas. In addition, the Elephant Park is home to roughly 20 water buffalo, one bull and one pony.

I will post more on this soon. What an amazing day! Paul is out like a light now. Can't believe he is finally tired. Woo-who! Mission accomplished!

Part Two: West Bengal

It is difficult to believe that in just a few days this trip will continue and has the potential to become even more dramatic, intense and full of surprises with extremes in sights, sounds, tastes and smells. On February 7, we will depart Chiangmai in northern Thailand for western India--next stop Calcutta. Since I am a highly sensitive being, much of the time during this trip I have found myself struggling within to find balance. It is interesting and unsettling to feel so groundless apparently from not having constancy on a daily basis, any real responsibilities or a known purpose. It seems very strange.

During quiet moments, while practicing some light yoga, I reconnect with inner emotions. Later, I come into a state of calm while I meditate and listen to the steady drone of the tamboura. I follow my breath and try to understand and accept my travel related experiences--the changing world, cultural differences, food, food illness, customs and even my sometimes opposing differences and pace of my partner.

For Good Luck and Strength

In the dragon's mouth for good luck and strength since I was down for the count at the week's beginning after consuming something that wreaked havoc in my belly.

After two days I managed to go on a guided bike tour just south of the old gated city. We are now in Thailand's northern city, Chiangmai. First, we stopped at a Chinese buddhist temple, where a small group of nuns live. We learned about the lady buddha Guan Yin and walked inside the dragon.

Interestingly, I recently hung a gorgeous tapestry of her in our bedroom that I have had lying around since my Esalen training in Ubud. I had forgotten her name and her story.

You can find out more at this link:
www.holymtn.com/gods/kuanyin.htm

Orientation

This map gives an indication of where we are now--south of Bangkok on an island in the Gulf of Thailand. If you click on the map image, an interactive Google map will load that you can enlarge to view the three small islands. We are now on Koh Phangan, the middle island in a beach community on the north eastern shore.

We have just experienced a long day of tropical rains with occasional power outages. It reminds me of days long past. It seems this rarely ever happens at home much. Such drama.

Our current home away

Layers of beauty abound. Discovering how to do nothing--sometimes challenging for my western mind. This life of leisure is something that just takes time. Today I got up around 9, took a cold shower, did some yoga and was beginning to meditate when Paul announced he was hungry. What's new, right? Ok, it was almost 11:30, guess I can't argue with that--it was lunch time. We hiked up the deserted 2-lane highway walking on the shady side of the road. Once we hit the small town, we found a roadside eatery where mom (someone's mom) was roasting chicken wings (one of our favs). The smell always captures us. Paul asked about fresh coconuts to drink and she pointed him down the street. Another score! Not wanting to be a western nuisance, I quickly ordered up a cold Chang. Nothing like a beer first thing in the morning. Why not? It's like water, anyway. We ordered up a bowl of noodle soup, some grilled chicken, and Som Tam, the spicy papaya salad that is super tasty. So far, it's been a lovely, breezy day.

Image: Our bungalow at Dolphin

Entrance to Dolphin

Image: Thong Nai Pan Yai, Koh Phangan, Thailand

Paradise Found

On Thong Nai Pan Yai, on the remote north eastern coast of Koh Phangan (pronounced pan gan).

It's a mouthful, I know and after the drama of getting here in a tropical downpour (more on that later), we have decided to stay on here for the next ten days.

Image: Paul checking email in one of the common areas

The gentle hands of Maya

One Sunday. I decided to go for my first Thai massage. The space itself was inviting with its high ceilings, large open windows and rows of mats, nicely appointed with clean white sheets and pillows all layed on a beautiful dark wooden floor. My initial perception was that Thai massage was rough, so from the beginning, I pointed to the scars from my broken ankle and said, "gentle." She smiled and understood. Her hands were soft and the compressions were slow and rhythmic; just what i like. She discovered the obvious places in my body where I held tension and other places that I didn't even realize I needed touched. She had some really good moves and stretches that opened me. I loved the way she moved my muscles in opposing directions around the bone. It felt wonderful. At only 300 baht for one hour, I saw Maya three times while on Koh Tao until we moved on to our current home in Koh Phangan.

Image: This photo only shows about half of this massage studio.

Weather Report...

It's about 7am on the Isle of Tao. Mostly, it is quiet at this time of day except for the sounds of nature which are very much alive. Chirping crickets lay the first layer of sound. In the distance, there's the clipping of jungle foilage by an unseen gardener. A rooster crows and I begin to here the vroom of a lone motorbike. Now the unusually mysterious and quick repetitive, bloop, bloop, bloop of some unknown jungle creature--possibly a bird. There are other conversations in the trees that I don't recognize and have no words to describe. Mornings are my favorite time. The air, even though still heavy with the morning dew is cooler. The sun is just beginning to rise and only seen from the other side of the island. The temperatures on average are in the high 80s with what feels like 100% humidity.

Image: Our cabana at AC two resort

No Mo' Kobo!

On the first morning in Bangkok, Paul thought we should shift rooms to escape the repetitive sound of a sump pump. It was a good call. I liked the second room better because it had more windows and a more open feel. As I was making pretty in the room (you know me), I elbowed the screen of my new Kobo ebook reader. Oops! This event for some reason was more of a disaster for Paul than for me. Nevertheless, a Big Drag. That was three months of interesting beach/travel reading material out the window. However, it did give Paul a mission--come Hell or high water, the Kobo must be replaced. I actually thought it would be good, give him something to do, but later I had some regrets. Be forewarned, Paul is not a man to be reckoned with when he is on a mission.

With suggestions in hand we were off to buy another one. Presently, Kobos are new on the market and sold only in bookstores. Otherwise, Kindles can be purchased online through Amazon. Consequently, we experienced our first Tuk-Tuk ride. The Tuk-Tuk is the modern day rickshaw, motorized with wheels, cushy vinyl seats and open aired. Better to breathe in the exhaust of Bangkok's constantly bustling population. Still in our dreamy state of culture shock and jetlag we saw a driver and trustingly hopped on board. Unfortunately, we neglected to negotiate the price beforehand and of course later we were overcharged (our fault). Oh well. Our first stop was Siam Paragon, the fanciest mall I have EVER visited. It puts any shopping center in the states to shame. After three hours of searching and another huge store later, Paul had to come to terms with the fact that there is no market for ebook readers in Bangkok. The saga continues...

Not exactly Hello Kitty

The Japanese would probably not approve. (smiley face)

This kitty looks like it has a few battle scars.

Kitty, I don't like that mean look in your eye.

Khao San Road--The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good--cheap, cheap, cheap. Did I say cheap? --Spicy and tasty street food. Twice we had breakfast here. A deliciously sweet Thai iced coffee cost me 20 Thai bhat, that's about 70 cents. The exchange rate is about 28 or 30 baht to the dollar. A plate of spicy ginger chicken and a second helping of sauteed tofu with mixed vegetables on rice was 60 baht. The mystery... How does this food not spoil after being out in warm weather ALL DAY LONG!? Good thing I got those hepatitis jabs.

The Bad...it's where the backpackers go. Young, Eurotrash making too much noise for people that want to go to bed. I have not had more than a few consecutive hours of sleep for days now. No need to describe what that does to ones demeanor. Let's just say that it's not pretty. At 3:38 am this morning, Paul asked me why I hadn' t yelled out the window yet to the group of drunken intruders in our courtyard directly below our open window to pipe down. Believe me, I had thought about it. Somehow I was able to refrain from my normal response to this kind of situation. Drunks are too unpredictable. I mean really, think David Carradine? At first, I was angry that the Thai attendant hadn't silenced them from the start. Later, I understood he was probably being cautious for good reason. It's no wonder western tourists are held in such high esteem.

The Ugly...well a street fair that goes on and on with every other booth blaring similarly obnoxious music, selling the same articles of U-G-L and Y. You name it, it is nothing anybody is buying. Right now, I can't wait to escape.

A tropical courtyard

This is the courtyard of Shambara Hostel where we stayed 3 nights. Once a traditional Thai home, it has high ceilings and is constructed mostly of dark wood. It rents 6 upstairs rooms with shared showers to guests. Located down an alley, it is just steps to the popular Khao San Road.

First impressions...

Small interesting alley ways to wander aimlessly down. The weather is surprisingly, not too hot. Still waiting to see my first glimpse of a big, beautiful and blue body of water. Streets are just like a city and in need of a good rain. Saw a rat scurry into a hole around the twisted roots of a tree trunk. Saw another smaller one dead being tossed around playfully by a very proud cat. I then realized why so many scroungy cats abound. Yikes!

Yes, Bangkok is a large city.