Friday, November 16, 2007

Pune, Diwali, and Tel Aviv

It's been 4 days since my return to Israel... I arrived late Sunday night, feeling great about being back. I awoke Monday morning with culture shock. I was literally in the middle of Israel's major cosmopolitan and I awoke to chirping birds, green tree branches outside the window, and breathable air. I headed out with the a friend (Y) who graciously picked me up from the airport, to get keys copied and though I saw no one, interacted with no one, and was out for all of 15 minutes, I found myself bewildered, confused, and feeling lost... in a neighborhood I know all too well.
Warm showers with no buckets, sitdown toilets, fresh bread, silverware, and clean air are just among the things I'm rediscovering. I still hesitate before tossing my toilet paper in the toilet. And I'm amazed at how clean and sparkling toilets are... (if you know my OCD with bathrooms - you know this is a big thing for me).
But I miss na'ans and chapatti's, the freshness of cold showers (which I can't bring myself to take when the tap provides a warm one), the satisfaction of watching dirty soap suds whirl down the drain when I wash my hands, people who bobble their head like I now do, eating with my hands, Indian food...
I hid out in Y's apartment all day Monday until I broke a tooth on a piece of chocolate (of all things) and decided to head south to visit my dentist. My journey out of the apartment to the atm, and then to the bus station, left me feeling like a deer in headlights. A little frightened, confused, and unsure.
I was appalled at how people pushed to get on the bus instead of waiting in line. To say it's worse than in India would be a lie... but it's all relative. For in India if you don't shove you won't even have the priviledge of standing squished between one woman's bossoms and another man's laptop case or market bag. Whereas in Israel if you don't get a seat you'll sit comfortably on the floor or wait 20 minutes for the next bus.
Being in the south and hopping from relative to relative has helped me slowly ease back in...and maybe heading back to Tel Aviv today will prove a little less daunting.
My last week and a half in India were marvelous. Myself, a Russian, an Australian, and two Indians were all there to assist/observe a wonderful teacher named Rashmin. We all stayed at Anagha's (one of the teachers) apartment with her sister and parents who were there visiting. It was like staying in a mini ashram and we had a blast doing our practices in the morning, hanging around the house in the afternoon, learning to cook Indian food, going to the course in the evening, and occasionally discovering the city with new friends at night.
The course ended and one by one we departed Anagha's place and Pune... except me. I stayed behind to celebrate Diwali - the Hindi festival of lights (and firecrackers), and the equivalent of Christmas (I was told) with Anagha's family. I accompanied Amruta (her sister) to a classical Indian dance class she was teaching (she's a professional dancer and apparentally known in India). I caught up on sleep, read, wrote in my journal, and got to know Anagha's parents who fell in love with me (and who I was quite fond of as well). Her father requested I speak in Hebrew, so I said "you're very nice, I like you". When I translated for him he was stunned and said something in Hindi, which Anagha translated to "no one's ever said that to me before". And on two separate occasions, in total seriousness, he asked me to stay in India longer so I could visit their home in the north, and so he could find me a husband... which is what he and his wife were in Pune doing for Amruta. He appeared to feel sorry for me when he learned that no one was concerning themselves with finding me a suitor so I assured him that if I was unsuccesful in Israel, I'd return to India and let him find me one.
I enjoyed the week and felt so lucky to spend time with Anagha's family, as one of them, wearing Anagha's clothes, dressing in Sari's, and doing puja for Diwali.
Four days later (a seeming eternity) I find that I've noticed I speak much less - for when you're in a country where most people can't understand you - you don't speak unnecessarily - and I've found that here - understanding all the noises around me, I can more clearly see the deeper silence within me.
The images and memories that remain with me are the people squatting (as at a toilet) on the side of railroad tracks, the children lathering their hair at mysterious dripping taps between the tracks, the little boy who shyly stood by me asking for money and who ran to the corner store after I gave him two ruppees, looking back at me with the biggest smile, to buy some candy. I wasn't bothered that his begging led to candy, the smile on his face warmed my heart...
All in all I'm feeling good... bearing the cold with some warm clothes I borrowed from my cousin... and looking to settling down again.
I'll post the last of the pictures very soon. And as soon as I manage to retrieve my Udaipur and Taj Mahal pictures from the corrrupted memory card... I'll post those as well.
signing off
love
Roni
ps. Now that I'm back I can respond to you individually, so write me... and if you're in Israel call.
pps. If anyone's interested in reincarnation, I read a fabulous book called Only Love is Real by a psychologist named Dr. Brian Weiss who has written several books on the topic. I read the book in one day, it compelling, an easy read, and it raised lots of questions and thoughts. A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry (an Indian author) is a fabulous book which will illuminate Indian culture for you (I'm currently in the middle)

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Air Pollution, Camel Safari's, and Big Crowds

From the beautiful, whimsical, romantic, and magical Udaipur I traveled to the overcrowded, polluted Jodhpur where I met up with Erin (the American girl from Udaipur). We spent the day exploring a humongous fort castle looming over a hazy, and blue spotted city, a modern palace, and a park littered with seemingly abandoned and beautiful hindu temples ruled over by hundreds, if not thousands of monkeys. The park was probably the best thing about Jodhpur.
By the time we returned to the city for dinner, we were both feeling nauseous with unhappy stomachs. We narrowed it down to the street vendor samsosa's, the immense air pollution in the city (breathing is cumbersome), or dehydration. In anycase, we were happy and eager to get out of there that night. A day in Jodhpur was plenty for me.
From there we ventured to Jaislamer which closely resembles a god-sized sandcastle. From a distance it appears like a sandcastle rising from a small city springing up amidst a desert. From the inside the fort reminded me of the high walls upon entering Jerusalem's Old City through the winding streets.
Joined by an Australian friend (Nikki) we headed out on a two day camel safari. We sat high and mighty upon our camels, stopping for an Indian lunch cooked over fire, and breaks for milk tea using freshly squeezed camel's milk. The desert was a flat brown landscape sprinkled with shrubs and sporadic hills - like the Negev surrounding Beer Sheva after a hot summer. Not exactly the saharan sand dunes I had envisioned.
We slept on (the only) sand dunes under a spectacular full moon that left our flashlights unpacked. Our camel drivers - a 12 year old boy and a middle aged man sat guard.
Breakfast was an incredibly delicious porridge and tea breakfast. We used biscuits to scoop the thin porridge to our mouths, as our guides had forgotten silverware. The day consisted of LOTS of riding and stops at two tiny villages along the way. The first was miniscule and the huts were made of cow poop, sand, and water... it was beautiful and serene and looked like an ancient village from a natural history museum display. The kids were energetic and playful and excited to play for the camera. I somehow managed to communicate with them and got some beautiful pictures...
The second village was a bit bigger with less children and houses made of bricks. The adults were just as eager to have their pictures and were sure to give me their postal address to ensure I sent them copies.
We finished the day with a jeep ride back to Jaislamer where we explored inside and outside the fort. Winding streets, vegetable markets, jewelry shops, and street vendors.
The next day Erin and I booked tickets to Delhi and explored 8 Jain temples called the seven sisters and brother. We also headed to a beautiful man made lake surrounded by desert scattered with trees.
The overnight train to Delhi was 24+ hours...all the trains to Agra were booked. In Delhi we were graciously welcomed and hosted by Erin's cousin's friend who practically shoved us into the shower, and rightly so. After such a long train ride with open windows through the desert our clothes were sandy and our hair matted. They prepared us lunch and we wandered into the city to see the Red Fort, which was closed but spectacular from the outside, and tremendous in size. We continued to the largest mosque in India which was also closed to women and tourists as we'd arrived at sunset just in time for the prayers. But it was also spectacular from the outside, as was the energy and buzz of the people surrounding it. We wandered through the adjacent marketplace which was (surprise) overcrowded and had a strange energy, we seemed out of place (even for India). As I looked around and saw almost solely destitute people and half naked children... I realized this was the dwelling area of the cities homeless. With the sun setting we found the nearest exit and departed.
We got a bicycle driven vehicle to take us through the main market place which is huge and separated into a different markets for silver, spices, fabrics, etc. It was massive and had the largest traffic jam I have ever seen. The patience of the bicycle carts waiting was impressive. We were beyond exhausted though and I tried to soak it in...
This morning we headed to Agra... where I sit now writing this email and burning my pics to a CD to make room for this new city. We have ourselves a rickshaw driver for the day.
Tomorrow afternoon I go to Pune for a week to assist teach an Art of Living course and then I head home on the 11th or 13th - not yet certain.
I miss Israel a lot and can't wait to get back... it's been an interesting journey being in India, loving it yet missing Israel and waiting to return. I never felt that was about the states and it makes me think that I'm probably in the right place... at least for now. This is just one of the many realizations and clarities I've had over the past three months.
My trip is wrapping itself up...
My next email may be my last...
love
Roni
ps. i just discovered that this email that i thought i sent on the 30th is still in my draft folder. i am now in pune assisting an art of living course. enjoying myself with 6 other teachers... more to come...
i head back to israel on the 11th of november... SOON!

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Here are all the links to all the pictures posted so far.

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/OotyPartII (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/OotyPartI (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/Mammallapuram (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/Pondicherry (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/Mumbai (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/CochinPartII (new)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/FortCochin (old)

http://picasaweb.google.com/ronizacsh/IndiaHostFamily (old)

Pondicherry and my journey west


What I love about India is that even when I go out in the morning with a plan - things jotted down, addresses, locations, etc. I end up giving up on them and in my explorations finding them coincidentally. This is what happened my first full day in Pondicherry. I came across a big hindu temple with a huge beautiful elephant standing in the courtyard. The huge elephant had huge beautiful ankle bracelets on - I made sure to take a picture. Anyways, I noticed that people were in front of the elephant, shrilling with joy as he seemed to touch them with his trunk. When I finished taking pictures and looked more closely, I realized that they were actually holding something out for him... or her... and was horrified to realize that this something were coins. Concerned, I debated asking the elephant keepers whether they were noticing and whether this could be a health concern. But as I continued to watch I realized that following every coin received the elephant gave the giver a tap on the head - perhaps a blessing. I stuck around for a few minutes, wondering where all the coins were... then as people cleared I saw the elephant take a step or two back to the wall and empty the coins - all of them - into the elephant keepers hands. Well - imagine my surprise - and my relief at not being the stupid tourist worried that the elephant was going to choke on the coins - okay, I was that stupid tourist, but only I, and now you, know that.
Yesterday I woke up, reserved my bus ticket, and then determined to see the sites left in the city. I covered massive ground seeing the impressive sacred heart church, the notre dame de agnes cathedral which was either unimpressive or I confused another building for it, the beautiful - untamed - jungle-esque botanical gardens... and possibly two dead people. I was walking in the botanical gardens - and if you look in the grass and under trees people were napping EVERYWHERE. And this was not nice manicured grass... anyways, I was walking on the sidewalk when I came upon a guy lying there as if he had fallen - completely still. Thinking he was dead, I wondered why no one else stopped or showed concerned, and then I noticed his chappals (flipflops) placed neatly side by side at his head. Strangest site I've seen. I tried to see if he was breathing as I walked past, and decided that even if he wasn't there was really nothing I could do about it and it could turn out only to be a traumatic experience for me. So I continued.
Exhausted, after having walked the whole city from north to south, I took a rickshaw back up and went to an ashram (not mine a different one) and was relieved to find a place to sit and relax and meditate for 20 minutes. I got up refreshed, and ready to continue exploring (keep in mind I had checked out earlier and had no where to go until my 8pm bus). I saw another dead person (or so I think) - a woman on the side of a busy road - alongside the piles of stuff the homeless people set up to be their home. She was covered to her head with her sari and there were flies all over her. A little girl was sitting and looking at her. I didn't even stop to think at this one.
In the evening I finally made it to the bus station where I waited around for an hour and saw a guy who was (sorry to use this description) holocaust thin. He wasn't begging, he was just sitting in a loin cloth on a sheet. Just sitting. I couldn't figure out how he became so skinny and he literally looked on the verge of death. I bought a bottle of water and a pack of marie biscuits and placed them next to him. Feeling like it was really pointless because it won't help, but also not being able to sit and see it and do nothing.
Sitting and waiting for the bus was a young Canadian woman whose seat was interestingly next to mine on an almost empty bus. Which was fine - but curious. So I enjoyed her company for the ride - she was volunteering for 3.5 months in Calcutta with an NGO who worked with children whose parents are in the sex industry. I did my undergrad thesis on the sex industry and so I found this fascinating.
I realized through whatever of the ride I was awake that we were going about 25, 30 mph. And realized that while India is indeed large, it's not as large as it takes to travel across. On a western highway my 16 hour journey would have taken about 6 hours. Somehow I have not yet had to do any of the really long journeys on my own - which has been nice.
So now I am in Cochin - and we'll see where the wind blows me from here.
signing off... and next email will be a link to photos...
I apologize for those of you having immense trouble with the english - if I had hebrew I would struggle to use it... but I dont. Just know i'm happy, doing well, and missing you.
love
roni

Monday, October 08, 2007

seashores, orphanages, spaniards... and heat

Last I left you I had just arrived in Mammallapuram after a 15 hour journey from Ooty. I was living in Mammallapuram like a queen. In a two room room paying 175rupees (4US) a night, when two friends had stayed there the previous week and paid for 650 for a regular room. Why do I need 2 rooms you ask? To do my yoga in the morning without bouncing my head between the wall and the bed - and because it was the same price as a regular room. The place had beautiful gardens and porches and a nice rooftop restaurant where I enjoyed writing in my journal and reading my book (Kiran Desai's - Inheritance of Loss - highly recommended - winner of the Man Booker Prize and it's about India).
After two or so days of being badgered by shopkeepers - as the whole road of the hostels and restaurants are lined with shops - they relented and just shouted out a friendly hello. Which made it much more pleasant to walk around, and a lot easier to to go in when I so desired.
It was nice having Julie around (the danish girl) for company during meals and sporadically throughout the day. Mammallapuram is a tiny place on the shores with lots of beautiful temples, lots of fisherman, tons of good restaurants and hang outs, and great shopping. The atmosphere is so laid back and it's so hot, that you can spend days there not doing much of anything - which I did.
On the third day Julie and I happened upon some Australian looking Spanish surfers who we met for dinner later in the evening. Turned out to be eleven of them doing a project they had started called Smile n Surf in India. They had spend 6 months fundraising in Spain, getting surfboards, and raising money and then they came to this little town for a month to work in an orphanage and give local kids free surf lessons. They set up a surfboard rental (with the donated boards) at the hostel with proceeds going to the orphanage. Among them is a doctor - giving his services, a photographer documenting, a videographer, a girl who started a nonprofit in spain, and a bunch of good hearted people.
They also did some work in nearby villages and the following morning we piled into the open back of a truck - like a group of migrant workers - loaded on a ton of rice and headed out to a nearby village where we began distributing it to the families, and toys to the children. It was a great experience, and incredible to really get to see how people in the rural areas live.
A few days later they threw a big party for the kids and I fell in love with one of the children. Some of you know I want to adopt a child one day (in addition to having my own - this may be news to you mom and dad). And this experience was incredible, made me feel so much stronger about doing so. I fell in love with one of the children who fell asleep with his head in my lap and I just kept looking down at him and thinking he was so beautiful and wishing there was something I could do for him.
The orphanage is really corrupt and the owners pocket all the donations - 100,000 rupees was donated recently for the purchase of land... 90,000 was pocketed by a few individuals and 10,000 was actually used for the orphanage. Not all the kids are actually orphans. They don't get fed well - think of Oliver Twist. And there's sexual abuse there. There's a German journalist whose gone 8 times "to volunteer" and is finally ready to publish her findings. She's extremely brave as the owner has ties with police and the mafia.
On one of my last days there I bumped into a British guy named Richard who I had met in Ooty and we rented two bikes and rode through the town going to the temples. He was a good guide, as he'd been living there 3 months working with a nonprofit and had seen some of the places before.
Other than that I went climbing on slayim (that's hebrew) those big rocks that make the jetty's in the sea. And I thought of Linds (Davis) and how you'd have enjoyed that adventure with me. It was a little scary - not to mention it started off with harassment from some local man who I successfully told to get the hell out of there.
I could have spent so much more time in Mammallapuram - exploring - as I had taken it easy the first few days, but I felt like it was time to move on... so along with a British girl I met there named Sofia, I took a two hour bus south to Pondicherry.
This is long so if you're tired go take a break and come back later... because I'm still going.
The short trip to Pondicherry was interesting - the guy in front of us kept feeding us from his snacks, and we had a theory that he was giving us his wife's share. He refused to take no for an answer until Sofia waved the still uneaten banana in front of him. Then a young couple next to us offered us ice cream (that they bought at a stop) which apparently is dangerous in India because there are so many blackouts (a joyous occurance if I haven't yet mentioned them - especially when you're out in the street and everything goes dark) - that it melts and refreezes and may be contaminated. Which is okay for me because I can't eat it anyways - oh lactose ( I know there are pills and I thank those who have advised me on the issue but the lactaid gives me different stomach problems).
Contrary to my preconceived notions Pondi (as its called) is quite large. The shore is beautiful as those big black rocks replace the sand to form a very unique shoreline. You can sit on those but there's no sand to walk barefoot on.
In my adventures this morning I saw a bakery called hot breads. And for those of you who know India - India doesn't do bakeries like we know them. No croissants, or breads, or pastries. Only really sweet really heavy indian snacks that involve no dough. So imagine my surprise when I walked into find an abundance of fresh baked breads - a whole assortment -even whole wheat, and fresh baked croissants, chocolate, plain, apple. I walked out with a chocolate croissant - so happy I didn't even care where I was going and almost got run over by a motorbike.
Next I went into the most amazing supermarket I have seen in India - they have peanut butter, chocolate silk, and anything else you can possible desire. I was in one of the aisle's pondering the endless options when I turned around to find Zafrir - an Israeli friend who had been at the ashram with me standing there. If I thought I finally had a day of independence (after all I am travelling "alone"). I was somewhat mistaken. What a pleasant surprise!
I was stalked by a 12 year old girl on her bike who followed me up and down the road no matter how many times I changed direction until I told her to stop following me.
Tomorrow I make a 14 hour trip back to the west coast, back to Cochin to see about a guy (in the words of Good Will Hunting).
love
Roni

Thursday, October 04, 2007

pondering the lines of Indian decency

I finished up my time in Ooty with a two hour hike through a tea plantation and the mountains - with nine other people. It's amazing how you meet people and the group just grows. It was beautiful and we even had good weather - not too cold.
Me and a Danish girl I met took a fourteen hour overnight bus to Chennai. Which was brilliant because it passes quickly when you mostly sleep. And it saved us accomodations for the night.
We watched two Bollywood films. The first was incredible because the sound and the picture were so off and yet no one found this bothersome or strange. I actually really enjoyed the second movie, which I managed to understand most of even though it was in Hindi. Though I'm not sure what this says for the movie. But I was struck by the contradictions in Indian culture. The amount of sexless sex scenes in the movie were astounding.... it's amazing how much sexuality you can portray without bearing skin and without (apparentally) crossing the fine lines of Indian decency. However being in India and knowing that merely bearing my shoulders is inappropriate, I actually found myself a little uncomfortable watching these scenes on the bus, trying to imagine what the equivalent would be in the US or Israel. But what struck me more is how the women in movies are sexy, and whether dressed in tanktops and miniskirts or Indian clothing made skimpy they show a lot of skin. I dont understand how culuture can allow movies and advertisements to portray one thing and still expect people to be completely different. The amount of public displays of affection between couples in the movies way exceeded what is actually acceptable between nonmarried couples. The clubs and bars in the films more closely resembled the upscale and prestige Manhattan hangouts then any place I've ever seen in India. But perhaps the south is merely decieving me and I need to make it up north.
Now in Mallalapuram which in contrast to Ooty is what I imagine sitting with Satan to be. It's SOOOOO hot. I'm considering wearing a sign saying "I didn't come to India to shop" because everytime I pass a store they badger me to go in - doesn't matter that I pass the same store 4 times in 15 min. And that the roads where the guesthouses/hostels are are lined with shops. We're on the shore and the town is small, quaint, and very peaceful. There are tons of hostels and rooftop restaurants. The beach down here isn't so nice small shore full of boats, fishing nets, and garbage, but I hear if I explore a little northwards its cleaner.
love
Roni

Sunday, September 30, 2007

India - steam engines, horses, and boats

I've been made aware that an update is long overdue...
After hanging about the ashram for another week - seeing off the last of my seminar - I headed south on a 12 hr train to Ft. Cochin in Kerala. It passed quickly with some naps, some food, and some looking at the beautiful passing scenary. It wouldn't have been complete without two gawking men, or my process of understanding the importance of drinking water despite the fact that a trip to the bathroom was bound to follow.
Ft. Cochin is a nice town (on a small island off the mainland). It has a 500 year old Portugese Synagogue and what's left of the Jewish community that settled there once upon a time. Most have emigrated to Israel in the past decade or so. The synagogue is in the charming historic neighborhood of Jewtown. It's narrow colorful winding streets are filled with cafes, galleries, and shops full of crafts, arts, shawls, etc. The architecture is splendid and everyone who discovered my Israeli roots said Shalom!
My week in Cochin was spent sightseeing, reading in cafes, visiting galleries, and doing a backwater tour. A 7 hr small (non motorized) boat tour of the backwaters of kerala - through canals and by villages. It was absolutely beautiful and our stops at village rope and lime powder factories were fascinating. The weather was splendid, our village lunch was delicious, and the breeze, the quite, the water and the energy of nature was just spectacular. There were 3 French and an Indian couple on my boat. I experimented "rowing" the boat - with a pole of bamboo which you push against the bottom of the water and it moves the boat along.
I experienced the most important cricket tournament, India - Pakistan at the guesthouse owners home with his two sons, nephew, wife, and parents. The wife dressed me up in a sari and Indian jewelry... pictures to follow. A week in Ft. Cochin is a little long but a good friend I made there was enough reason to stick around a little longer.
From Kerala I headed to a place called Ooty in Tamil Nadu. Ooty is a hill station high in the mountains of Tamil Nadu. It's pretty cold here but absolutely beautiful. After a 7 hour bus ride (supposed to be 4.5) and 4 hours in the seediest hotel in Coimbatore I boarded a 5am train to Ooty. At 7am we transferred to a steam engine locomotive which took us up the mountain in 7 hours (instead of the 3.5 it takes by road). It was again - stunning - and quite an experience. I made an Israeli friend, the Indians in our car loved us, and I discovered that Indians can be rowdier than Americans...
Ooty has been nice - quite, peaceful. There's a lake, botanical gardens, a huge rose park (both beautiful by any standards) and tons of tea plantations. The whole town/city is on hills and the views from everywhere are incredible. I met two british girls, a danish, and a german girl... and this morning the 5 of us enjoyed a 3 hr horse back riding tour through the plantation covered hills and the villages of Ooty.
I;m thinking of doing a trek tomorrow and then heading out on a night bus to Chennai and from there to Mallallapuram - a small city 2 hours south of Chennai.
The past week and a half have been full of adventures. Both inspiring and frustrating. Being cheated by a rickshaw driver who took me to the wrong hostel and having the hostel owner tell me they simply changed their name. Finding this out the next night only when directing my friend to the road name of the hostel I thought I was staying at and realizing that the original hostel indeed existed on the right road. And I was staying somewhere different all together.
I'm enjoying the food... the people... the scenary and exploring.
love
Roni

Sunday, September 16, 2007

India


So as you all know, I've been at the Art of Living Ashram for the past month. And since my last email I have been corrected as to the meaning of ashram in sanskrit : "Ashram in sanscrit means without effort, a place where you come to do no effort, or hence rest, relax and be with yourself." Which is actually much more descriptive of my experience here.
The 25 Israelis and I were surprised to find we were in fact only part of a larger group of approximately 65 Iranians, Lebanese, Jordanians, Saudi Arabians, Baharainians(?), UAE, Oman, Moroccons, and (3) Ethiopians. The Arabs/Persians were no less surprised to find Israeli's amongst their group.
What an amazing experience for us all. The month was amazing. Full of love, friendship, cooperation, compassion... my closest friends were Arabs, Persians, Christians, and Muslims. And there was no separation between us. I always believed in my head that people are so much more than their fears and their politicians, that people could create peace together... but now I experienced it in my heart. And we didn't ignore the problems between our countries. Some of the Lebanese lost family and friends just last year in the war with Israel and couldn't believe they found themselves loving, and hugging, and dancing with Israeli's.
You can't describe to someone who has never experienced the ocean it's power, it's wetness, its vastness, and its beauty. You can't describe love. I find it extremely difficult to describe this experience.
On the last day myself, two other Israeli's, a Moroccan, and 5 Iranians went to Bangalore to explore the city together. And when the two Israeli's left us for Goa, the Iranians were crying. And I asked them, did you ever think you would find yourself crying when parting from Israeli's. Often in my life I have parted from people in foreign countries knowing they live so far away I may never see them again. The difficulty for us here is that we are geographically so close... but huge political barriers make it illegal to enter one anothers countries. We're already speaking of a reunion in Jordan.
I don't want this email to be political because my experience was so beyond politics... it was the underlying factor of this past month, and such a tremendous life experience. And I have little to write about this past month without writing about this.
We took a number of courses - for those of you who are art of living - we did YES+, Part II, DSN, TTCI, and TTCII. I am now a YES+ teacher! :) We were graced by amazing teachers... Sangeeta, Vinod, Bahrat, Danesh, Nandini...
I had done some of these courses before and found such tremendous growth within myself from a few years ago. I found such peace, tranquility, and happiness. And I went so deep within myself.
You may remember that I lived in Bangalore 4.5 yrs ago for a month during my study abroad, I was amazed to find how much the city has changed, grown, and developed. It has become so western. Prices have skyrocketed. The IT industry in Bangalore has grown, and with it a surge of young urban techie professionals have flooded the city, demanding luxury and comforts... and so the city has moved to meet these demands, and the change is immense.
I'm excited to go off and explore the rest of India...tomorrow or the next day I'm heading south to Kerala to Ft. Cochin... an old portugese city on the south west coast of india. It's said to be the most progressive city in India. From there I'm planning on heading to Hampi, then mumbai, pushkar, jaipur, agra, jansi, varanassi, and delhi at some point. If youve been to India and have any suggestions please let me know.
The weather is cool and rainy. For those of you who are worrying about me... safta... don't... I'm doing well.
love
Roni
ps. I recommend watching The Secret... we watched part of it a week or so ago.
pps. The month wasn't without it's downs. Throughout the month I was plagued with fever, a torn ligament in my ankle, digestion problems of all sorts, a chest cough (undiagnosed), stuffy nose, runny nose... and yet I've never felt better. :) (I'm healthy now.)

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Hello from India

Those of you who know me well enough, know it doesn't take me being in India to be horrible at staying in touch. But I am in India, and as a visit to India is much more interesting to write about than a visit to the states, or my life in Israel... here I go...
The flight was good - I slept the whole way... what should take about 3-4 hours to get from Tel Aviv to Mumbai takes 7.5, due to the need to avoid flying though Arab airspace when leaving Israel...
My first sign of being in India was asking two airport security guards where the bathroom was, and having them point me in opposite directions... I was pleasantly surprised however to find that the bathrooms were both western style and equipped with toilet paper... on my last visit I grew to like the squat toilets... though I can't say the same about giving up on toilet paper ...
For those who still aren't sure what I'm doing in India, I'll explain in brief. I'm spending a month at the Art of Living ashram with a group of 45 young Israeli's who were invited to participate in 4 courses. Ashram is the hindi (maybe sanksrit) word for school - it is simply a center. The Art of Living is the organization I have been meditating with since 2003... Which brings me to when I was last in India... in 2003, as part of my undergraduate studies. I stayed in Bangalore for about a month with a wonderful host family organized by the program I was on. The family has since moved from Bangalore to Mumbai.
Last night I was picked up from the airport by my host father who quickly found us a rickshaw (those vehicles with 3 wheels, open sides, and crazy drivers)... It was an interesting ride, I soaked in Mumbai at nighttime - dark, rainy, and still reeling with activity. I was relieved to find that Sanjay (my host father) was almost as horrified as I was when our driver nearly got smushed between other vehicles, or hit other cars.
We arrived "home" to receive a hug from my little host brother (Veneeth, 9) who was then off to sleep. And my host mother (Hema) who had prepared us dinner. Sanjay, Hema, and I sat and talked... reminisced and caught up for a while before heading to bed.
My host sister, Deepti (who's 7) hasn't been feeling too well, so today after she retured early from school we spent a few hours playing cards and watching Indian cartoons and tv. I learned that even in India cartoon characters like to show their "bums" and act "naughty". That Indian pop singers dress less modestly than Britney Spears in her innocent days. And that tattoos are actually becoming quite accepted... even mine.
Other than that I have been battling between accepting my lactose intolerance... which has already meant turning down chai, ginger tea, and indian yogurts... and accepting bellyaches. I'm happy to report that so far the intolerance is winning.
Tonight I'll be teaching them rummykub, and we'll go out to see the city. Tomorrow afternoon I'm flying to Bangalore to head to the ashram...
if you don't want these emails let me know. and if you write me i'll write back an individual email
love
Roni
ps. for those of you who were up to date on my tel aviv living conditions owe me a mazal tov for FINALLY moving out. thank you michael!
pps. Liza - tell Oren he needs to come see India for himself. bring little itamar and come travel with me!

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