4 Stories to Remember

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1. The Lady on the Bus

My sis Lib and I were on our way south, from the current exiled-Tibetan centre of life, McLeod Gang, to one of the most "forward thinking" cities in India, Chandigarh (picture India plopped down into suburban America). We found our bus and got on. Put another way, we landed in a cesspool of filth and flies. There were small beetles and flies everywhere. Each seat had a minimum of 5-10 flies. They seemed to congregate around spilled food, though there must have been spilled food everywhere. Luckily we were the first on the bus and somehow, after loads of intensive "field research," we found our way to two fly-free seats (a miracle in and of itself). Luckily, we found two window seats to ease the nausea of the winding bus. So we split up.

After enjoying the first hour with two seats to myself, a family joined the merry little bus and down sat mama next to me with her family on the other side of the aisle. With all do respect for all shapes and sizes of people, this woman was heavy-set. And she was pressed against me--for the rest of the ride. It was a hot, sweaty day, as usual in India. I felt, as you might imagine, a sense of annoyance that here I was going to be for the next 3 hours: pressed up against a woman in sweaty India. At the same time, along with feeling came another, much more surprising: there was something "pillow-like" about the whole experience, and after days of little physical touch with anybody, a sense of comfort came over me.

About an hour into being pressed up against the window, the woman stood up and hand-motioned to me to switch seats. After a short hesitation (I didn't want to give up my window seat and didn't understand why I "had" to), I obliged. Luckily. She proceeded to upchuck out the window, as many others had done before her (just look at any Indian bus in the hills). I felt bad for her. Another India moment.

2. Music Classes

After a lot of running around Northern India, from Rajastan's Pushkar (Holy Hindu town) to Amritsar (Holy Sikh town), McLeod Gang (holy Tibetan Buddhist town), and many more, it's been great to settle into Rishikesh ("Yoga capital of the world") for what will be 3 weeks in total (I have yet to do any yoga here).

I'm 11 days into music classes here. I've been studying Classical Indian vocals with a woman named Sangita. And I've also been studying how to make tabla (Indian Classical drumming) sounds with my mouth, to further my beatboxing skills, working with Kanpaj, Sangita's brother. Both are amazing musicians and skilled and systematic teachers, a combo that cannot be matched.

The vocal classes are spent doing exercises and learning classical Indian ragas (one form of Indian songs...doesn't sound like Bollywood…sorry). What's amazing is that I don't quite recognize my voice sometimes after all this time in training. It's so exciting. Also, talking to Sangita, hearing her sing and learning about extended family dramas has been a real highlight, not to mention entertaining. For instance, I hear all the stories about how the whole family didn’t want her now sister-in-law to marry her younger brother. She’s loud. She doesn’t participate in the family. And the most recent story I heard was how she is poisoning her high-blood pressure mother-in-law with hot and spicy foods and causing undue stresses on her. Bollywood comes to life in India.

The Indian tabla sounds that I am ever-trying to make with my voice is a true test of the tongue. What I was once able to do--in slow motion--I am slowly accelerating into the high-paced world of tabla. Picture the following exercise on cocaine:

Dha Dha Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete x3
Dha Dha Tete Tete Dha Dha Ti Naa
Taa Taa Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete x2
Dha Dha Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete Tete
Dha Dha Tete Tete Dha Dha Dhi Naa

Sometimes classes or practice time are spent with 3 or 4 family members in the room, just hanging out. One time, one of the 10 year-old kids was playing with a balloon while I was practicing (the always fun game of trying to keep the balloon in the air). If there is one scarcity in India it is privacy.

I'm looking forward to another 7 days of classes before a brief trip to the Himalayas to soak in the mountain views.

3. 1 Year Old Birthday

A few nights ago, I was invited to celebrate Sangita and Kanpaj's nephew's one year birthday. The festivities began with wall hangings being put up, including a classic "Happy Birthday" sparkly banner and the name of the cute one-year old, Krishna, put on the wall. A balloon was filled with sparkles and candy, with my help. Later, it turned into an Indian piñata with a big cheer for the birthday boy.

The cake was the centre of the celebration. There were plates put out with candies, cookies, and one of those delicious Indian savory treats with lentils and who knows what else. When Sangita served the cake, she plopped it (with her hand) onto each person’s plate, thus making sweet, icing filled cake a savory treat. Shouldn’t all cake be served with fried lentils and curry?

4. Why Faith Goes Beyond Belief and Lands in the Hands of the Experiential

My sister and I traveled together for 2 weeks. We went to a lot of places. 13 days, 13 cities! It was a bit of a crazy itinerary, but India is no small country. And while the train system here is quite fantastic (at least if you are in the cheap, but luxurious A/C class), the bus system leaves something to be desired. And there are very few trains up north. There were a lot of highlights, but mostly it was a highlight to spend quality time with my sister Lib, who lives in Hong Kong and who I only get to see once, sometimes twice, a year.

We were in McLeod Ganj for 4 days, a city adjacent to Dharamsala, both of which are filled with Tibetan refugees. This is the new home of the Dalai Lama, though he spends most of his time travelling. But he was in town when we were there and my sis and I spoke to him personally for 2 hours....o.k., well my fantasies lead me astray. There was no such meeting. But the experience of being around Tibetans was quite calming after two weeks of typically chaotic traveling on my own in the heart of India.

After a 24 hour hellish ride on the Delhi Belly train, I felt better (thanks to the immodium), and was ready to appreciate the mountains, walks, temples and people. The highlight was walking by Tibetan monks and flashing a smile their way--for the sake of receiving a smile back. I am pretty sure that they win the "CUTEST people on the face of the earth" award. We also made friends with a Muslim Indian jeweler that my sister bought some jewelry from. He quite fancied her and even gave her a dress for free. Every time I passed his store, he said: "Where you're sister?" I think she appreciated the jewelry more than his flirting.

Before McLeod Ganj, our first stop was Amritsar, which is in the state of Punjab, a predominantly Sikh region. From day one in India, I have been taken with the Sikhs that I've met. They have been calm, friendly, curious, well-spoken (in English) and most of all, helpful. The highlight of our whole trip for my sister was visiting the holiest Sikh site in the world--The Golden Temple. It is really made of gold! She especially loved the water that surrounds the temple, which is truly beautiful.

While I was impressed by the Temple, what really left me impressed was my sister's experience of it. She is a self-described atheist. While she is happy to participate in Friday night services and do yoga regularly, she does not consider herself 'spiritual' in any sense. And what left me thinking "how beautiful" was how she was not only absorbed in the Temple itself, but quite impacted by the people and the level of faith that the Sikhs at the temple exemplified. We went into the Temple and happened to be there right at prayer time. As we entered, there was music and chanting, as the devotees gathered around the guru and the musicians. At one point, the music stopped and everyone prayed together in a kind of atonal melody. Then the devotees gave small donations to the Temple, prostrated themselves, and we were all ushered out.

After the experience, I paraphrase, but my sister said something like: "This whole experience (at the Temple, and in India, in general) has left me with a renewed faith in religion." While I have no desire to make her feel 'spiritual' or be more religious (as I am), I was quite simply impressed that awe and appreciation are something universal and human--you don't need to be 'spiritual' to experience the world in awe. Sometimes the cloud above religion is ‘belief,’ which often doesn’t leave room for the personal experience of a moment. Having some kind of faith in something ‘beyond’ is misleading, when awe is the experience of a moment in time that doesn’t necessarily need to be ‘beyond’ anything, but more ‘within.’ What I was ultimately impressed with was how she saw the people for who they were--faithful, passionate and in awe. And that awed her, as it awed me.

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