Start at the Beginning

Go back in time...to September 2004 - My travel log edited w/ pictures added!

Epilogue

321 days later I arrive at Dulles International with exactly 5 US dollars, 18 British pence, 500 Burmese kyat, 1 Chinese kuai, and a missing 5000 Vietnamese dong piece, not to mention atleast a week's worth of jetlag. My parents were there to pick me up though I hardly recognized them - they seemed younger than I remember.

So far my few days back home have been bewildering at best and overwhelming at worst. I often imagined what it might be like trying to adjust to life here while still in my Himalayan isolation. One senario was just that it would be the same, only that the material world around me would be better (can you say drinkable tap-water?). The other senario had me hiding out in my room for days, not wanting to corrupt myself with the heavy commercialism and blatant pretentiousness of society at large. Little did I expect that what actually happened was both: a life at the same time familar and estranged.

That threw me for a couple days and now I'm back to contemplating the oranges. Yes, oranges. Have you seen the oranges in this country? A fiery orange color, shaped like papayas, and the size of grapefruits in any other country - a cold, botanically scientific perfection. Seedless wonders with just the right amount of sweet and tangy. All the pros without the cons right? I ponder this while helping myself to half a dozen daily.

Sadly, this will be the last post on this blog (although I might add some pictures to previous posts). Don't worry, I'll settle down in a few days and might even enjoy watching MTV again...maybe. Then I'll call everyone I know :)

In peace,
Marcus

Ode to India

My 20th year is one that will not be easy forgotten. Looking back fills me with the dim glow of nostaliga and the warmth of appreciation and completion. The difficult times I also value perhaps even more so (and there were plenty of those).

I count myself as one of the lucky. How many have such an opportunity to search for 'truth' unimpeded by material needs, physical limitation, or pressing attachments and responsibilities of home? Of course the searching and finding are two different things...

My hope is that this blog has been helpful in relating some of those experiences that have come and gone in the last 8 months - experiences and consequent insights that will continue to shape my life from here on out.

See you back in the states. Farewell my dear India.

Something of Myself...in pictures

I was wondering why I hadn't posted pictures sooner, and than I realized why...this is India where the only reliable thing is the Chai-walla on the corner...when he isn't on strike. So without further ado (and in chronological order), here they are:

Thailand, Wat Ram Poeng, January 2005


The main temple

Golden Buddha images

3 buddhas


Burma, Yangon, and Pak Auk Forest Monastery, Feburary 2005


The famed Shwedagon Pagoda, the holiest sight in Burma


Street scene with Sule Paya in the distance


Me and my kuti (meditation hut) at Pak Auk Monastery


row of medtiation huts


Am I wearing a skirt?...

Vietnam, on Mekong Delta tour..., Early March 2005


boat ride on the muddy waters


me and random Japanese College kids on holiday.



And there you have it! I'll be home in two weeks...

Shy on the dance floor?

You're probably not as shy as a bunch of whiskey-lovin' Tibetans during a late-night wedding reception. Think chuba's (a floor length apron-type traditional dress for women) and "Its the time to disco" playing on an endless loop...I have to admit it was quite a party (despite the fact that I wasn't exactly invited, more like the party was happening in my apartment complex and I went to take a peek).

LIfe is generally slow and quiet here though. I've found 2 Tibetan teachers now, one of which is a sweet elderly nun who stays home to take care of her aging mother, and the other is an enthusiastic man working at Gu-chu-sum, the foundation for Tibetan ex-political prisoners. I need to find some non-English speaking Tibetan friends though who will pity a bumbling college student...

Oh, did I mention that I inadvertently had lunch with a Rinpoche (reincarnated lama) the other day? All the tables at this restaurant were full so he just came up and sat right at my table. My first hints that he wasn't just and "ordinary" monk were his perfect English, the braces on his teeth, and the "bling" watch he wore. His father was in fact a very influential Nyingma lama who setup a bunch of dharma centers in Brazil, Chagdud Rinpoche! Yes, yes, rinpoches this, rinpoche that. He seemed no more than a regular person and we talked about quite mundane things, but how often are we deceived my mistaken perception?

Hitting the Traveler's Stride?

Is there a place past culture-shock? If there is, somehow I think I've settled there. Why do I say that? Because when I wake up in the morning in a strange new place, in a strange new city, in a strange (and sometimes funky) new room or train birth, I don't really think twice about it. It's strange to be sure, but not quite shocking. A professor of mine who is a lifetime traveler told me that each time he comes back to a country, it feels like another homecoming - like a slice of grandma's hot apple pie just waiting for you outside the airport terminal. Ok, so I made the apple pie part up and neither of my grandmas ever baked any kind of pie...

Anyways, I've found a nice (only a half the room is dotted with black mold...) apartment in upper Dharamshala and language lessons are going well. To be honest, its the first time that I haven't been doing excessive planning for this bus or that plane, that retreat or this tour...so...I'm a bit bored. Still looking for a place to volunteer, hopefully I can make some use of myself in aiding the Tibetan cause.

Dharamsala Part II

So I was figiting on the mosquito infested over-night bus from Delhi (which should be avoided if possible) somewhere between 2 and 4am while pondering how dangerous it was to be driving that fast on un-lite mountain passes. Yes, avoid if possible especially if you find yourself sitting next to a smelly nun. Shouldn't that be against some kind of precept or something?

But there are quite a few things nostalgic about India, the fragrant vegatarian Indian food, cows herded on the highways, and Western hip-hop "indianized" simply by speeding up the beats and raising the pitch (think of The Chipmunks singing "In Da Club").
Though of all the things I missed about India, the backpacker-guesthouse-crawl definitely isn't one of them. Need to find an apartment, need to find a language teacher, need to sleep more, need to get my zafu back in action.

Last word on Vietnam: will return.