the gypsy life

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

indian express - january 24, 2007

from page 9 of the Indian Express (January 24, 2007, edition), tortured syntax entirely intact:

Bhadohi (UP): A man, who buried himself in a grave, had to be forcibly taken out by the local people after 12 hours, in Bhadohi district of Uttar Pradesh. According to sources, Mohammed Idris, a native of Bareilly, had buried himself alive at a graveyard at 'Shahar' Konwali area on Monday, as he wanted to have an experience of "death." The news spread like wildfire and a large number of people gathered near the spot and took Idris out alive of the grave.

[btw, if you check the "breaking news" on the front page of the website, you'll see that "Canadian Pig Farmer Denies Murder Claims". my first "news" from Canada since i left! glory!]

Monday, January 22, 2007

streaks, tips & highlights - january 23, 2007

yes. i know.

when last heard from, your less-than-reliable correspondent was contemplating, with some trepidation, an overnight bus trip from Goa to Hampi. the trip to Hampi wasn't so terrible, though i got little sleep: i was in a comfy, reclining seat next to the second-most beautiful man i've ever met (the most beautiful man knows who he is and needn't be mentioned here by name). although before we spoke to one another, i thought he was french or belgian, he was in fact, from newmarket, ontario, having moved to montreal when he was 18.

Hampi itself was very pink and dusty and full of banana plantations and weird bouldered hills. after 2 days of roaming among the ruined temples and palaces i was, frankly, ruined, which made the horror of the return to Goa even more spectacular: i was trapped, between the window and a young japanese woman, in a coffin-like upper "sleeper" berth with no ability to sit up for 10 hours, no sleep and little opportunity for proper leverage in the event of a need to roll over. the result: the second set of lower back spasms since leaving canada.

after encouragement from my friends, Toni and Clasina (from the child haven tour), i headed straight from Goa to Amma's ashram at Amritapuri on january 6. although they gushed about the fantastic "essence chiropractor", Ganganath, they doubted that i would get to see him since he was "blocked solid". the universe works in magical ways, however, and his schedule offered an appointment the next day. i can't explain his technique, or how gentle it was, but it was remarkably effective. was there a possibility of follow-up? why yes! indeed. and when would that be? on january 11, (a) the day after my friends were to leave the ashram (the thought of being there alone was terrifying) and (b) the day Amma was scheduled to return to the ashram for 10 days before commencing her south india tour, a tour that would end the day my indian visa expires and i would be required to leave the country.

so, you can see how forces were massaging me into place for a meeting with Amma in order to experience her darshan, in which i would receive a hug and perhaps see fireworks or know that i was meant to become a devotee. at the very least, i would be embraced by a living saint. i don't say that lightly, btw--she's an extraordinary being in every respect. to put her in perspective, when a guru has attained the scope and stature of Amma (e.g.Sathya Sai Baba), darshan, which literally means "vision" or "to see", means just that: you get to see the guru, maybe from a considerable distance. Amma hugs everyone who comes to her, an unbelievable feat. she is tireless in her effort. think about a simple woman from a small Keralan village physically embracing everyone, male and female, from the around the world, who comes before her. think about it.

i stuck it out. i lingered in a bizarro world populated by so many people wearing white. i felt like an alien who'd left his home planet headed for earth, but who drifted wildly off course and landed in a COMPLETELY alien world that had nevered been scanned by his home planet sensors. what was even more bizarre was the slippage between the intention of the whites--e.g. purity and letting go of worldly attachments and desires--and the reality of the whites--some people in the very simple, plain cotton stuff available in the ashram, and others in an entire array of varying styles, ornamentation and price tags. the westerners rarely seemed to mix with the indians.

bizarre. bizarre. bizarre.

i volunteered. i was the "supervisor" (giggle) of the western canteen dish-drying at lunch, where i was overwhelmed with help from really lovely people, though i could still not get used to the adoption of indian spiritual names by inescapably white westerners. i also served dinner in the evening under the supervision of a super-cool and super-beautiful queer woman from the U.S. seeing her out of her blue server apron, drifting along the walkways of the ashram in her flowing (but simple) white sari always made me smile.

i was also blessed by the brief (until i left) friendship of yet another beautiful young scandinavian woman, Anu, from Finland. she was a tremendous teacher and i'm so grateful for the opportunity to have learned with her to laugh at our freedom and the remnants of our attachments.

so....i received my hug from Amma on january 13. it lasted about 3 seconds and is a real, full-on body embrace. any of you who have read Holy Cow by Sarah MacDonald will know what i'm talking about. it almost made me giggle when she murmured "ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...." in my right ear as i was clasped to her ample bosom, followed by something incomprehensible, which i assume was something in her native Malayalam. there was no indication of "recognition", no fireworks, no moment of brilliant clarity during or afterward. however, as i walked away from the experience, i felt a kind of release. it doesn't matter whether it was Amma or me, because there is no meaningful distinction between us in this context. but i felt free to leave and to continue my exploration. this sense of freedom was significant: i had considered the possibility of remaining in Amritapuri until february 11 and seeing no more of india. i contemplated the possibility that it might be time for me to renounce the world and dive into a spiritual relationship with Amma as my guru.

but no. not yet, anyway.

so on january 16, 10 days after arriving, i went to Fort Cochin, about three hours north of the ashram, but still in Kerala. Fort Cochin is the old dutch and portuguese part of the otherwise bustling metropolis of Kochi, most of which is on the mainland across the wide expanse of the Kerala backwaters (everyone: please read The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy). in kochi, i stayed at a really beautiful homestay, called Delight. the owners, David and Flowery (yes, you read that correctly) were wonderfully kind and generous. their house, the dining room and common room of which were open to guests, is a 300-year-old portuguese mansion with 15-foot ceilings and 2-foot thick walls. the rooms were beautiful. (i admit to treating myself a bit here.....). while enjoying the really laid-back lifestyle and the friendly people, i experienced the incredibly weird world of kathakali dance and a full-day, eco-friendly backwaters cruise. the "eco-friendly" part was primarily due to the absence of a motor on the boat, which was punted with spectacular patience and momentum by a wiry little man who left me feeling withered and useless after about 2 hours. what the others on the cruise experienced, i don't know, but gawping at life along the backwaters eventually seemed a little.....unseemly. i was glad when it was over.

kerala also gave me the opportunity to wear a lunghi (or dhoti as it's called in some parts of india) as often as conveniently possible. yay for men in skirts!

on january 21, i flew from Kochi to Chennai and made my way immediately to Pondicherry, about two hours south (by car). i wasn't aware that the French had much of a presence in India, but Pondicherry is the former capital of French India and bears an unmistakable gallic imprint, including the neatly laid out grid of french-named streets with a central (and now completely foul) canal. in pondi, i've indulged my comfort on an even grander scale, though i'm still in a skirt. i wanted to stay in one of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram guesthouses, but they are completely full, so i opted for the opulence of the Hotel de l'Orient. (i move to less extravagant digs tomorrow morning...)

yesterday, i took what i thought was going to be a tour of the ashram in the morning, but it consisted only of a disturbing, 1960-ish video of the life of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother in the Bureau Central, then a series of stops at the various cottage industries in which the ashram offers opportunities for people to work (papermaking, silk-printing, scent-making), all of which are sold all over Pondicherry. i was disappointed that it was a shopping excursion.

in the afternoon, i took the Auroville tour. Auroville excites me. i can't really say anything about it. i'm that excited. i've been able to secure accommodation there for 10 days commencing january 28. i've timed it for a 5-day orientation to life in this beautiful, experimental community.

(met a cool environmental scientist/photo-journalist from Nairobi, Kenya, on the Auroville tour: Neil Thomas.)

(oh, and hoping to go to a "trance drumming" concert, "Tamil Voodoo", at a resort north of here on jan 26)

looking ahead (from which i can't seem to find the will to cease), i will come back to Pondicherry after Auroville and then fly from Chennai to Singapore on february 10. what my time in southeast asia will look like, i don't know. all i know is that Tricia (in Orlando) is making every effort to meet me in Thailand or Cambodia. can you say "scuba-diving and temple-browsing with tricia"?

sure you can.

i knew you could.

so that's what's been up with me.

[i can tell by reviewing this post that my dexterity with the english language is stiffening up. although i confess to writing that sentence primarily to use the word "stiffening".]

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

frequency modulation - january 2, 2007

leaving the 2 portions of my perforated NYE ticket intact, i declined the opportunity to communally welcome the so-called new year as much from a disinclination to mingle with strangers in the clamour and clang of poorly executed music (though "executed" is entirely apt) that continued until 4am, as from a very real sense of the slipperiness of time. this sense emerged from my awareness that, for most (all, really) of the people i love, their welcome would necessarily follow mine through the exigencies of longitude.

i was embarrassed, once again, by time.

my embarassment melted into my unique brand of compulsive despair, through which i pushed with my first truly "western" television experience since leaving canada: i watched most of collateral (tom cruise, jamie foxx, jada pinkett-smith) on HBO. i missed only the most superficially significant portion, that being anne's soliloquy from the rear seat of max's cab on her experience of the practice of law. (of course, the less superficially significant message of following through toward one's life aim--by improvisation, movement, change--i caught singlehandedly...once again.)

so NYE 2006 was, viewed from this perspective, a dramatic success

i leave colva beach tonight for a 10-hour, overnight bus ride to hampi (vijayanagar) in karnataka. i've roughly sketched my approach to the widely-scattered ruins according to my arrival and departure times in relation to the sunset and sunrise. (especially as one ages, proper lighting is essential.)

random pointmoment in spacetime....

...a modification to my expressed hope for posthumous dispersal: when sprinkling my ashes--and please do sprinkle, as scattering is far too solemn--please divide them more or less evenly between brad pitt and john abraham. (enough of the old black & white shit.)

we pause now for station identification