Relaxing with Keralan Comrades

I'm sitting outside of a train station in Kerala preparing to leave the peace and serenity of tropical life for the excitement and hassles of India's most modern city - Mumbai. While I'm excited to experience the chaos that I am sure to find in one of Asia's fastest growing cities, I will truly miss the calm and natural beauty of Kerala.

The state of Kerala is remarkable in a number of ways. First, it is unique in that a large area is linked by the "backwaters", which are essentially a system of natural and man-made canals. This may not sound exciting, but India minus buses, cars, pavement, and the ubiquitous honking horns is truly a sight to savor. Instead of dirty, rutted roads, people travel to work and school in canoes over calm waters that are amazingly clean and brimming with fish and waterfowl. Another very notable feature of Kerala is its people; in a country full of friendly, outgoing people, Keralans still managed to surprise me with their kindness. This may be due to the fact that they are generally healthier than their counterparts in other states. Health care is widely available and affordable. (Unfortunately Jess and I found this out first hand when we visited a hospital for a cough that Jess has had for too long. The doctor was efficient and friendly, the visit was free, and the medication cost a whopping $1.50.) Education is also taken very seriously in the state; literacy rates are above 90 percent!

So, you may be wondering why is Kerala so different from the rest of India. The excellent health care, educated population, and lack of .pollution can all be linked to one cause - COMMUNISM!!! Kerala is home to the only democratically elected communist government in the history of the world! Other communist governments have come into power through popular revolution or military take-over, but Keralans elected communist leaders fair and square, and they have no reason to be disappointed. In reality the Keralan government is more socialist than communist since there is a great deal of private property and privately owned businesses, but there is a major emphasis on funding social services and economic justice for the poor. I am not a communist (communism has largely been discredited as a viable economic system since it ignores an important facet of human nature -- self-interest) but it is impossible to deny the benefits that the communists have brought to this beautiful state.

Most of my time here in Kerala has been spent either eating delicious tropical food and/or staring out at breath-taking sunsets, but Jess and I did manage to get out of our comfort zone for and stay at an interesting ashram. An ashram is like a church, but it is more than just a place to go and worship, it is a place where people go to live a more spiritual life. It is also a center for education and humanitarian work, depending on the philosophical beliefs of the particular sect. The ashram that we visited is led by "Amma", a guru who is affectionately known worldwide as the "hugging mother". India is full of ashrams of every kind and variety, so an ashram located on the beach led by a woman who is renown for her hugging sounded like an easy introduction to ashram life. As it turns out, I was very right. The ashram was incredibly welcoming and full of Westerners who were very friendly. We learned a lot about Amma's humanitarian work. Her ashram has given financial assistance to the victims of nearly every natural disaster in the past decade, including a million dollars to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina. She also has directed the building of hospitals, schools, orphanages, universities, and homes for impoverished Indians. All that was nice, but the best part was our accommodation; a spotless room overlooking the beach and Arabian Sea! Not only that, but they had a cafe which served expresso and delicious foods such as pesto and gouda cheese pizza! And I though ashram life was about sacrifice and self-denial . . .

Here are my Kerala Pictures - some aren't half bad!


More to come soon from Mumbai

Trying to Stick My Head in the Sand

For the first time in my life I know what it is like to be utterly and totally - comprehensively and blissfully - completely and holistically, relaxed from head to toe. Spending a week in Mamallapuram was the perfect antidote against a common but preventable malady: traveler burn-out. Waking up to the sunrise on a quiet, beautiful beach with absolutely no trains to be caught, no tasks to be completed, and no appointments to be made was exactly what I needed. I'm re-invigorated and ready to hit the road again, not that I'm looking forward to the prospect of city traffic and omnipresent pollution, but (unfortunately) the world isn't all fresh seafood and sunbathing.

One of the attractions of a beach holiday is that it temporarily disconnects you from troubling and seemingly unsolvable global woes. I didn't even see a newspaper for the first five days in Mamallapuram, much less worry about global events over which I have little control. I semi-consciously pushed aside any thoughts about the outside world, which did help to stay relaxed, but my disconnect was only superficial. Our time in Mamallapuram was directly affected by the very global events that I was trying to avoid. Jess and I were able to find a room within 15 minutes of arrival because the fear of terrorism and tension with Pakistan created by the Mumbai attacks of November 26th have reduced the number of tourists by 60 percent this season. Food and accommodation were affordable partly because of the global economic meltdown which has reduced travelers' spending. I have received dozens of hugs, handshakes, and smiles following my (previously cautioned) admission that I am an American for one simple reason: Obama. I share their hopes that this new chapter in contemporary American History will be the beginning of unprecedented global communication and cooperation, but I harbour doubts about any one person's ability to fundamentally change a global system that has entrenched itself with money and power. All of these global issues are being played out right here in a little beach town in the south of India. Any perceived detachment from world events is an illusion; the world really is a small place.

Fortunately Jess and I were able to put these issues to the back of our mind yesterday. We celebrated Jessica's 30th Birthday with a sunrise to moonrise Mamallapuram seafood, yoga, birthday cake, ayurvedic massage filled extravaganza. It was the perfect finale to our eight days in the idyllic village.

In a way it is nice to be getting back on the road, there is still so much of India left to see and we are already forced to reduce our number of destinations. We are traveling south to Tiruchirappalli to spend one full day checking out some old Hindu temples, then west to Kerala to spend three nights of the "backwaters". We will spend Jess' last week in India in the bustling city of Mumbai (Bombay) to get our Chinese travel visas. Then it is back to work for both of us, Jess back to "Where There Be Dragons" (coolest name for an employer EVER!) and I will be joining Sadhana Village as a six-week volunteer.

I finally have some pictures! Get envious of my summer-like (in January) beach holiday by looking at these.

On a Lighter Note . . .

Since I run the risk of alienating my small group of blog readers with two picture-less posts in a row, I have added some images from Google to spice up this post. My past week has not involved much "sightseeing" so my camera stayed in the bottom of my backpack. Rather than sightseeing I have spent the past week mulching trees, spreading compost, and sleeping in a thatched hut. Jess and I spent five days at Sadhana Forest in Auroville volunteering, although we felt more like guests in a low-rent guest house than full-fledged volunteers.

Before I give my impressions of Sadhana Forest, I should step back and try to describe the "universal community" of Auroville. Founded in 1969 and based on the teachings of Sri Aurobindo, a British educated Hindu guru, Auroville is an attempt to build a spiritual and universal community from the ground up - a very admirable goal born out of the 1960's counterculture movement. The community's mission is:

"To be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity."

This is a lofty mission and, with the risk of being called cynical, I have to label as a naive. There is also a new age-y feeling to which I have a difficult time relating. A prime example is the shown in the adjacent photo. This is the "Matrimandir" - a space age structure that is the "soul of Auroville". This over sized golden golfball holds the world's largest crystal which is used to facilitate meditation. Different strokes for different folks, I suppose. Despite my pessimism, I respect the work that is taking place in Auroville. The community is full of alternative schools, artists’ enclaves, environmental programs and alternative energy projects. My only reservations are based on my limited observations of the "Aurovillians" and their relationship to the local people who inhabit the villages surrounding Auroville. True to its mission, Auroville is home to people from over thirty nations. This makes for an interesting intercultural mix, but it is not as diverse as one might assume. Due to its spiritual roots, the community's inhabitants are all very like-minded. There is no problem with that, but the structure of Auroville also results in a community that is socio-economically homogeneous; becoming an Aurovillian requires money, more money than I or many Indians are able to obtain. I am not aware of the financial details involved in becoming an Aurovillian, so I don't want to defame it with a label of "classist" or "economic discrimination", but not just anyone can show up at the town hall and become a member for a variety of reasons. Over half of the community is of European descent, giving it a flavor that is different than anywhere else in India. Not that you don't see many Indians in Auroville, the town hires over 5,000 villagers a year as staff and contract labor. It just doesn't sit well with me, call it white guilt or the residue of colonialism, but after a week it still looked like economic exploitation. I hope I'm wrong, but no one convinced me otherwise.

Sadhana Forest is one of Auroville's newer environmental projects which aims to reforest a badly degraded tract of land. The project began in 2003 and has already made a huge impact on the landscape; once desolate land is now green with foliage and the water table has risen an astounding 6 meters. The knowledge of this success gave Jess and I high expectations for our proposed 2 week stay, but unfortunately the reality wasn't as grand as we had hoped. Unlike most WWOOFing farms, Sadhana Forest charges guests 150 Rupees ($3) a day to cover food. Fair enough, no one wants to be a financial drain on a philanthropic organization. The facilities, which utilize alternative energy sources and environmentally sustainable features, are very interesting. All the electricity is generated through photovoltaic panels, no waste water is wasted, food waste is used as compost, and human excrement is used as fertilizer. Yes, human poo on the garden, which means no toilet. Honestly I didn't mind the composting system, when used properly (keeping urine and feces separate and using sawdust to absorb any excess moisture and odor) it is not as unpleasant as it may seem. The best part of the entire experience was the work. We spent the early morning, before the southern sun heats things up, mulching trees and planting vegetables in the garden. The work was not too strenuous and it was very rewarding.

Unfortunately, the rest of our experience was not so positive. The project is quite large by most standards with over 50 volunteers currently living, working, and eating at the site. I found this troubling for two reasons. First, it makes the entire experience rather impersonal. We never got a chance to meet many people and many interactions were anonymous and detached. This is not what I expected at an organic farm/reforestation project. Second, I am not convinced that the facilities are ready to handle so many people. Illness seemed to be quite common (although we were reassured that this issue was being dealt with) and space was a little tight. All in all, Jess and I didn't feel comfortable and decided to leave early.

Our disappointment was very short lived as we hopped on a bus and arrived in one of India's most beautiful beach side communities - Mamalapurim. The beach is long and clean and there are more cheap seafood restaurants than you can shake a prawn at - but the best part is our room overlooking the beach with a constant sea breeze and veranda. How much will this gluttonous luxury set us back? Less than $10 a day (meals and all) for the both of us. God bless India.

Happy New Year and I promise to have pictures next time!

Distant But Not Different

One of the primary reasons for my year long wander is to gain an understanding of cultural diversity that two university degrees in Anthropology and Intercultural Youth Development were incapable of conferring. I have studied cultural variability from nearly every academic viewpoint imaginable, but growing up in a rural Midwestern town and attending university in two very homogeneous locations denied me an experiential understanding of cultural diversity.

When I began my trip it was easy and amusing to spot aspects of the local culture that differed from my own. As I moved East these differences became more pronounced and numerous, which made focusing on the differences nearly effortless. It is only now, after more than a month in India, that I am finally beginning to focus on the similarities between the local culture and my own.

Jess and I are spending a few days in Puri, a little beach town that is an overnight train ride away from Kolkata. Since it is so easily accessible to Kolkatans, it is a popular destination for middle-class Indians who want to get out of the city for a few days. As I strolled down the main drag on our first evening in town, I had an almost palpable sense of deja vu; it was as if I had walked down the streets at some point in the past. Of course I had not, but the string of hotels, restaurants, snack vendors and advertisements are strikingly similar to any family vacation destination in America's Midwest. I could have easily been at the Lake of the Ozarks or Branson in Missouri. Casually dressed families leisurely strolling down the road with ice cream, restaurants advertising food to suit every palate, souvenir shops selling knick-knacks - familiar scenes in every US vacation town during the summer. Walking around in Puri is like exploring an altered version of Midwest in which the food is spicier, the people dress brighter and cows roam the street freely.

These superficial similarities did not become totally clear until Jess and I met some of the incredibly friendly and welcoming locals. As foreign (and very pasty) tourists, we have to be cautious and aware of our vulnerability at all times, but we managed to let our guard down enough to get to know some local guys who struck up a conversation on the beach. After a very friendly conversation and promises to meet later and have a bonfire on the beach, I was very suspicious. What is their intention? What do they really want from us? What was the scam that we were walking into? Although these questions simmered in the back of my mind, we went to the beach on our way home from dinner to see if there was actually a fire as promised. Sure enough, our friends were waiting for us and we soon had a warm fire near the ocean on a beautiful night. As we sat under the stars discussing world politics and our life plans, I realized how many opportunities like this I miss every day because I am so guarded and uptight when interacting with local people. The guys around the fire were no different than my friends at home; they simply wanted to get together to enjoy good conversation and music, but I assumed they wanted nothing but my money. Jess and I were able to get to know some of them over the three days we stayed in Puri, all incredible young men and women who are interested in the world and are excited to meet others who are like-minded. In fact, the entire situation was very safe for one simple reason - no one was drinking alcohol. This is one difference between India and the US which I am begging to appreciate. No one was drunk or belligerent and there was no danger of making a foolish decision against one's better judgment. Alcohol just wasn't necessary as a social lubricant because everyone was relaxed and enjoying themselves. The sober (dare I say "wholesome") evening allowed us to get to know each other on a less superficial level.

I hope that focusing on the similarities between Indian culture and my own culture will help me to see individual human beings among the billion bodies who inhabit India. The families on holiday in Puri have the same goals as American families who head to the lake on three day weekends; relax away from domestic and career responsibilities, spend time with family, enjoy a beautiful natural place, and eat good food. The responsibilities may be different, the families bigger, the natural place a bit more crowded, and the food spicier, but the motivation is exactly the same - to live the good life. Thanks to the wonderful people, who are much more welcoming and open than myself, in Puri who were able to teach me this lesson that I could not have absorbed from any Anthropology textbook.

City of Shiva

Varanasi is India in concentrate. More cows, worshipers, historical places, tourists, temples, street vendors, and ceremonies per square inch than I ever imagined possible. Since the city has been a point of pilgrimage for over 4000 years, there is no reason to be surprised. Varanasi is India with impactitude -my new favorite word which I picked up from an Indian newspaper. Luckily I was fully recovered and well rested from my stay in Delhi, so I was prepared for some impactitude.

Varanasi is a city of contrasts. The city clings to the banks of the Ganges River, a wide and tranquil river which is very sacred to Hindus everywhere. The streets leading to the river could not be more different - narrow, crowded and chaotic. The city is a magnet for life of all types from around the world, but it also draws death. Many Hindus believe that dying and being cremated in Varanasi brings instant liberation of the soul, therefore over 300 bodies are burned on the bank of the river everyday. 24/7/365. The only limiting factor in the burning is the cost to import wood and the space necessary to build the pyre. The most intriguing aspect of this tradition is that it takes place in public. Anyone passing by walks within a few feet of burning bodies, bodies waiting to be burned, and the family who have congregated to watch. To my American mind, this seems like the sort of event that begs to be a private family affair, but not in India. My hotel is located only about 50 yards from where the bodies are burned, so when I inevitably get lost in the backstreets I just follow one of the frequent funeral processions and I eventually end up at home. It seems macabre, but life and death are just more visible and harder to ignore here than in America.

The Ganges River is the heart and soul of Varanasi. The river is holy, but it is used in every way possible, both sacred and profane. At any given point on the shore there are people doing abolutions, (like ritual cleansing), offering gifts to the gods, praying, and meditating. At that same point there are also people washing clothes, fishing, swimming, bathing, and gathering water. Of course a large amount of human waste, both in the form of litter and excrement, end up in the river. This does not deter the pious from entering the river and worshiping its power.

The Ganges River flows from the god Shiva's hair according to tradition; this is his favorite city and he is definitely the favored god within the city. Of Hinduism's pantheon of a thousand plus gods, Shiva is one of the most commonly and fervently worshiped. This is why the city is such a popular place for pilgrims from all over India. The worshipers and the city are intense, and this intensity is magnified by bhang, which is sold in restaurants, on the street, and even by government shops in the form of drinks and baked goods. Watching funeral pyres and ancient rituals with a bhang lassi is a quintessential Varanasi experience. While there are quite a few foriegn tourists here, there are not enough to substantially change the character of the city. Most of the people here are tourists of some sort, but most of them are from within India.

In retrospect, I should have spent more time in Varanasi rather than Delhi, but hindsight is 20/20. I am leaving the city this evening on an overnight train to Kolkata where I will meet Jess! We'll spend about 4-5 days in Kolkata before heading to Jaipur to work at Saharia over Christmas and New Year.

Motions and Meditation Don't Mix

I had the unfortunate experience of being forced to leave the meditation course after only four days of sitting cross-legged on the floor so that I could sit upright on a porcelain seat in a hotel; I got a bad case of what Indian's euphemistically refer to as "loose motions". It was inevitable - almost all tourists get some sort of intestinal bacteria during their stay - but I wish it could have come at a better time. Actually, there really is no "better time" to spend two and a half days walking from the bed to the toilet and back. Since I have arrived in India I have not eaten any meat, avoided uncooked fruits and vegetables, and only drank bottled water. At the Vipassana center I became comfortable and I relaxed my rules; on the third morning I ate a plateful of fresh bean sprouts that were undoubtedly washed in regular tap water. Lesson learned.

The meditation course was very intensive and intense. The schedule is EXACTLY as follows:

04:00 - Wake Up
04:30 - 06:30 Meditation
06:30 - 07:00 Breakfast
07:00 - 08:00 Rest
08:00 - 11:00 Meditation
11:00 - 11:30 Lunch
11:30 - 13:00 Rest
13:00 - 17:00 Meditation
17:00 - 17:30 Tea
17:30 - 18:00 Walking
18:00 - 21:00 Meditation
21:00 - 21:30 Questions to the Teacher (optional)
21:30 Lights Out

In case your doing the math, that is 12 hours of meditation per day. The rules, as well as the schedule, are very restrictive; no outside food, no reading or writing materials of any kind, no phones or music devices, and no medicine unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps the most noticeable rule of all is that of "Noble Silence". For the ten day of the meditation retreat you are not to speak to anyone at anytime, with the exception of simple questions to the teacher pertaining to the meditation technique. This rule was actually not difficult to follow or enforce. Since everyone at the center was there for the same purpose, there was little temptation to speak to anyone. It was difficult to follow the meal schedule because the afternoon "tea" was just that, tea with a light snack. You can imagine the growling stomachs in the meditation hall at six in the morning when the last meal was nineteen hours ago.

Meditation is extremely simple - focus your mind to the present moment. Meditation is also the most difficult thing I have ever attempted. In an environment with no distractions or worries, all I had to do was calm my mind, empty it of all thoughts, and focus all mental energy on my natural breath. Those who have tried know that the mind is a wild animal that is not easily tamed. I would relax and use all of my mind to feel the cool air brush against my nostrils and rush into my nasal cavities before pouring out my nostrils again. Vipassana teaches to focus on the breath, because it is natural, sensory, and everyone breathes. The technique makes a great deal of sense, and I love its simplicity and rationality, but that doesn't mean it is easy. Here is a typical excerpt from my mind's inner workings during the course.

One breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . I wonder how much a visa to Nepal costs . . . it should be warm enough to visit there by May . . . should I work on a farm there or just travel . . . SHIT! I did it again! . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . my back is getting sore . . . not as sore as after sorting olives for four hours . . . I wonder if Edouardo is still at the olive farm . . . SHIT! WHY WON'T MY BRAIN SHUT UP?!?!? . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . .

According to the teacher, this is how all people begin meditation; frustration, failure, and (at least initially) persistence. It is amazing how little control we have over our own minds. We are really good at thinking, but all of our thinking concerns the future and the past, we rarely stop and thinking about what is going on at the present moment. A good example is driving. I remember drives back and forth between Missouri and Montana in which I covered 30 or 40 miles without any awareness. The sensory and motor movement parts of my brain were functioning on autopilot, completely out of my conscious awareness, perfectly able to drive the vehicle on the long straight highway, while all of my consciousness was consumed with memories, analyses, and emotions. We are all on some level of autopilot all the time. There are constantly sensations, sounds, and sights that our senses perceive, but do not enter our awareness. My very nature as a human makes meditation difficult, but my many years of formal education makes it almost impossible. I have spent my entire life being trained to do three things; think analytically, plan strategically, and communicate effectively. In order to meditate, I must stop my mind from engaging in all three.

Emptying the mind of its clutter and being acutely aware of the results in clarity and control. At least that is what I have been told by the teacher, who at least appears to be very calm and very controlled. I don't have to take his word for it, there are numerous scientific studies on the effect of meditation on the mind. Meditation's ability to alter brain activity and chemistry have been empirically verified and neuroscientists often incorporate the phenomenon of meditation in their theories of the mind.

Vipassana is not a religion, it is a technique. Although its roots are obviously Buddhist, Vipassana claims to be universal and compatible with many of the world's religions. There are no pictures of the Buddha, no mantras, rites, or rituals. There is also no hierarchy except that of teacher and student. I felt very comfortable at the center. It is located on a forested hill far away from the noise and pollution of Jaipur -monkeys and wild peacocks provided the only distractions. It is a peaceful and welcoming place, but my bowels did not feel as comfortable as my mind.

I am now fully recovered. I travelled from Jaipur to Delhi and I'm not sure how to spend the next five days before I travel to Varanasi and Kolkata to meet Jessica. I will probably spend a few days in Delhi's parks and museums, of which I have been to none. Although I am fortified by antibiotics, I will pass on any offers of tasty sprouts for the next five months.

Nationalism Gone Wild

My North Indian tour has brought me from the home of the Sikhs to the land of the Hindus and I was able to catch a glimpse of Pakistan along the way. I was reluctant to leave the Golden Temple, with its friendly people and free food, but the road (or railway) beckons.

I was able to meet and get to know many Indians during my time in Amritsar thanks to the Golden Temple being a hassle-free zone, and one man, Paran, made a particular impression on me. After he finished with the usual round of "questioning the foreigner", I turned the table and interrogated him. After a little prying I learned that he was unemployed, has lived in Amritsar his entire life, and eats at the Temple every day because he has no money for food. I asked him where he learned to speak English, since it is usually a sign of high caste or education, and he told me that he graduated from a university with a computing degree, but it is very difficult to find work right now. He was obviously embarrassed by his financial position, but he brightened up when he said that he was planning to become a tour guide, using his English to show foreigners around the city. As he stood up to leave, I realized that 1) he was not a scam artist 2) he needed help and money 3) I needed a guide to get to the Pakistani border. So I made a proposition; I would pay him 150 Rupees ($3) to accompany me to the border with Pakistan as my guide. Most tourists hire a taxi to take them to the border and then back to Amritsar, which costs 600 Rupees. The public bus system in rural India is very cheap, only 50 Rupees to the border and back, but it is not easy for a foreigner to navigate because the signs are in Punjabi and Hindi and the drivers don't speak English. So my guide would be make more than the average day's wage in one afternoon and I would save some cash and get to see more of the Indian country-side.

This raises a legitimate and pertinent question; why was I so intent on getting to the Pakistani border? I have no interest in visiting Pakistan at this time, and I can't since I don't have a visa. So why go to the border only to turn around and go back? To join the border closing ceremony/party/nationalistic pep-rally, of course. The border crossing near Amritsar is the only open point between the two giant nations of India and Pakistan, who have perennially bad relations and a disputed border in Kashmir. Each evening both nations put on a big nationalistic show to crowds of people on each side as they ceremonially close the border. There are bleachers, food vendors, speakers blaring Hindi pop music, and even a charismatic MC to rally the crowd. All in all it is one of the most bizarre gatherings I have ever seen. Luckily I had my guide, Paran, to translate and explain some of the happenings, but such things defy a rational explanation. Maybe my photos will illustrate the scene better, but they are distant and vague. I have some videos that I will try to post, if I can figure out how.

It was fascinating to see the crowds of cheering spectators shouting "Long Live India!" while another large crowd on the other side of the fence yelled "Long Live Pakistan!". The border guards had an elaborate succession of marches, which amounted to a hyper-masculine display of nationalism and power. Finally, the flags were lowered, the gate was closed, and the crowd dispersed. Weird, but an interesting insight into how these two countries, which were originally one under the British, now deal with each other. I also was able to help out Paran, who was more enthusiastic than ever about become a tour guide, but I know he helped me out more because I would have probably ended up stranded in some remote village had he not been there to lead the way.

Now I am in Rishikesh; a Hindu holy city on the Ganges river in the foothills of the Himalayas where cows, white hippies with dreadlocks, wild monkeys, and Hindu swamis roam the streets. This is the place where the Beatles came to study meditation and yoga with the Maharishi in the '60s and now it is the "yoga capital of the world".

The setting is beautiful; the Ganges is clear and fast flowing between the lush green mountains. Also the air is relatively free of India's ubiquitous pollution and the streets are more pedestrian friendly. I can't say I'm smitten with the place, it wreaks too much of "spiritual commercialism". By this I mean a lot of rich kids and retirees come here to pay people to "enlighten" them, or they at least buy enough cool Indian clothes and trinkets to convince their friends back home that they have become enlightened. Regardless, it is a nice place to hang out and relax for a few days. Today I had a nice hike to a waterfall with many encounters with curious monkeys. I'm sure I would enjoy this place much more if I were staying in one of the many ashrams or taking a yoga course, but I must keep moving.

I am leaving tomorrow for Haridware and then Jaipur where I will join a ten day meditation retreat. Afterwards I will visit Varanasi, which is one of Hinduisms holiest cities. But in the meantime, I will try to avoid terrorists and their deadly antics.