Thursday, February 25, 2010

Travel time


 Sipping on the last bit of my special Pu-erh tea, my beloved husband sent me to India with. There is no more good tea. It must be time to leave. It is getting hot again after a short 2+ months of perfect weather winter. When I first got here, it was so hot and sticky; I could fill a pool with my sweat. I would break in sweat just chewing my food! And looked like I stepped out of a pond after my dance practice. Now, humidity and temperature are rising, and I dream of the ocean. I'm leaving Orissa in a week. Dance practice used to be the highlight of my days here, now it is skyping with my daughter and my husband. I'm grateful for all the treasures Orissa had to offer me, and still enjoy riding the ecstatic waves of music with dance, but ready for a break, and for intimate time with my dance, internalizing all of what I learned. 

I have loads of writings inspired by the Vipassana meditation retreat I took in Bodh Gaya, but first I want to share my recent Konark-Puri trip while it's still fresh in my mind. 

I took off dreading a bit the bus experience I was about to embark on, but I started off lucky. The bus, that has no time table or consistency, arrived a second after I did, and I ran and pushed, and won a precious sit. Half the people on the bus stands, climb the windows, or hang out on the roof, so a sit is luxury. My knees smashed and banged against the bench in front of me. Body parts, with not-so-good-odor, pushing against me, forcing me to push (gently) back, so I can maintain a decent sitting posture. Loud noises, honking, banging, shouting, but I'm happy. I enjoy checking out the old ladies, their exotic sarees and ornate delicate jewelry. As for the man; there are the fashionable, clean shaved 'cool' looking guys, there are the scruffy, too much oil in the hair, mismatched dressed guys, there are the old, dhoti wearing, red-pan-stained-teeth looking guys, and they all gaze at me with intense dark eyes. For a while, I suspected they take turn standing next to me, pushing their hips against my body...but they are so discrete, it is hard to tell. The man sitting next to me (the fashionable clean type, lucky me!), offered to pay my bus fare. I pretended to not understand, and rushed to pay before he had a chance to. It is not polite to refuse. Then he offered an India style candy - a packet of fennel, coconut and spices, I took it after he insisted. Then, he bought me a mango frooti drink. Of course, I had to accept. He did not talk to me at all the entire 2+ hours of squished together bus ride, but when I was pushed and yanked off the bus in Konark I politely said good-bye. He rejected my good bye, and instead accompanying me as we walked toward the magnificent Sun Temple. Then he talked, in Hindi, but I could understand. He wanted to spend the day with me, and invited me to attend his cousin's wedding that night....hmmm, I wonder if I were to accept, he would have proposed marriage by the end of the day? Anyways I brushed him off elegantly (I have experience:), and hurried to meet my Odissi friends at the Fancy tourist Bungalows. We took a trip into the Orissa back-country to visit an old, obscure and well kept, amazingly ornate Varahi Temple. 

 Varahi is the boar head Goddess. She is dark, and wears black garments and jewelry. She is a tantric Goddess and one of the aspects of the mother. She protects and grants wishes. In her temple I broke my camera. This is after I lost my phone in Gaya. It really is time to leave. 

That night, after an incredible evening of Music and dance in Konark, I found a ride with a lovely French couple to Puri, and all in perfect divine harmony, they stayed at my favorite Puri hotel, and there was one more room left for me. I got up early, greeted the magnificent ocean, and dived in for a long blissful swim. The Puri beach can be somewhat of a nuisance if you lay around. Everybody under the sun might bother you; the beggars, the eager vendors, the shy school students, the laud large families. But in the ocean it is quite and spacious. Indian people do not swim, at least not in the ocean. They only enter as far as knee deep. After my swim, followed the scrumptious breakfast at the famous German bakery, when again, in perfect divine order, I ran into an Odissi dancer I've been trying to meet up with for weeks. I also met an American lady I now refer to as the 'Saree Queen'. She has a fantastic SariSafari web site, where she sells her incredible collection of hand loom sarees she hand picks across India. She is truly passionate about fabric, and it was fascinating to learn from her more about the history and culture of sarees.


In Puri, I went for a long long walk on the beach all the way from the Fisherman village in the north, where the Hippie tourists hang out, to the south end of town at the entrance to the old city, where the Indian tourist flock the beach in their thousands. Then, I meandered through the picturesque old city narrow streets, where I would have taken many photos, should I still have had my camera. There is the wild Kali Temple, and the gnarled old Saddus that look like they are thousands of years old like the equally gnarled banyan and Bodhi trees. And there is the hustle and bustle of life that looks like form a different century. At the end of my walk I washed at the Jaganath bathing complex, and got stung by a bee in the center of my palm. I felt like the bee stung was auspicious, blessings me with an easy journey back to BBSR. 

I'm now busy with last days shopping, packing, and finalizing my affairs and connections here in Orissa. Letting myself sip in, along with my tea, the beauty of this place, the preciousness of this incredible rich culture.  

As I'm preparing myself to travel mode, a few useful language tips for the you who plan a trip to India: English is widely spoken which makes India an easy place to get by. Yet, especially if English is your first language, you may be surprised to find it a bit difficult at first to communicate. As one of my Rickshaw drivers said: "Madam, I speak English fully, but only Indian English". This sums it up. I would highly encourage anybody traveling in India to pick up some words of the local languages. It helps a lot in crossing the tourist veil and having a window into the local culture. A few typical phrases you likely to be addressed with are: 'You are one person or two?' (Means are you here as a couple or travel alone) 'You, coming from place?', 'Madam, your good name?' 'Problem? No problem'. In Orissa they tend to repeat words, especially verbs, twice. A classic is 'Adjust, adjust'. This is a big one since you always have to adjust! Another popular one is 'Thank you, Thank you'. They like to add ee sound to words such as Fatti, frooti, silki. Additional distinctive feature of traveling in India, particularly if you choose to spend time away from touristic spots is the 'super-star' phenomena. If being famous is one of your secret wishes, I highly recommend visiting India first; have a taste of what it is like being in the spotlight. As a foreigner, you likely to attract an all lot of attention in the more rural, non-touristic areas. Some of those back-country little towns and villages folks never met a 'white' or non-Indian person in real life, and if you appear in these places, the all village will surround you with excitement and examine your every move. You are the most thrilling occurrence they had for years! And the concept of privacy is non-existent. Personal space neither. (Be aware and prepared!).

The other day I went to the book fair here in BBSR, and as I walked out of the fair grounds, a young women of college age ran toward me, trembling with excitement, asking if she can speak to me. As we talked, she became increasingly more emotional and teary. She was from a small town a couple hours drive a way, and she revealed to me she prayed to God that morning that she will be able to speak to a foreigner on her trip to the big city. Oh, how sweet and innocent she was. I felt all of a sudden obligated to stand for the occasion, and make this experience truly special for her. In a way, being a foreigner, you are always noticed, and it requires a certain behavior of benevolence.