I'm Drinking My Tap Water, Boston...

I heard "the news", that which is dominating the broadcasts of all Boston-based news stations and consequently the residents of said area 24/7, on the way home from the airport. My dad brought to my attention that a water pipeline in Weston broke and was forcing all residents East of there (most of metro-Boston) to either boil their tap water or rush to groceries and buy out all of the bottled water for fear of parasites and disease.

What could these parasites and disease actually do to you? In the 12 hours I've been in the States, no news anchor has managed to tackle that question. All they're telling me is that I, as a Lexingtonian, am being forced to boil my water, whether to use for refreshment or to brush my teeth. But I can shower in it! --- as long as I keep my mouth closed...

I keep thinking back to that time in Varanasi, India when the bed and the toilet were the only things I saw for 36 hours. I had been washing my teeth with tap water for 6 months, and nothing happened. It took a lot more than that for me heave over myself sick with parasites. Over the course of my travels, I never asked for no ice cubes, even though travel advisories told me to in all the countries I visited. I even drank tap water in Turkey! It was uber-chlorine-y and deliciously refreshing! After a year of travels, I'm still alive and I didn't even get that sick, except for that time in India briefly mentioned above. Keep in mind: loose bowels are completely manageable --- I don't consider myself "sick" when I have them.

So screw you, Boston. I'm drinking my tap water. I won't waste the plastic or gas to make sure I have purified water. Those parasites and me, we'll be great friends by the end of all this!

B(ee)

Now: Real Life Time...

I'm sitting in the Frankfurt (Germany) airport, waiting for my flight back to Boston. I've nearly checked out of my alternative world, my eight month tangent from the Real World and My Life. I'm sure I haven't been dreaming the past few months; it's been far too unpredictable (even in my dream world) and way too clear of a vision. Everything happened, but just how the last eight months fit into My Life is not clear yet.

Whatever we choose to call this program --- a fantasy, a myth, a tangent from life, an alternate world, a dream, an educational program (yeah...right?) --- it is an experience whose seeds have been planted and watered. Some have drowned, others have managed to survive in the darkest corners of my mind and will show themselves at appropriate moments to come. But for now, my mind so densely forested that it's difficult to find the seeds that were planted this year. Some of my memories and things I've learned are growing, thriving, shooting their branches up into the sky of my life. The others --- the late bloomers --- well, we'll see about them.

Apparently I can't think in anything but analogies right now. Everything else is hidden behind the branches and the brush. The next few months will be filled with a lot of clearing and I hope you're all ready to come along for the ride, I'll be needing your help.

Trying to see the light through the trees and the seeds through the soil,
B(ee)

Home Feels Further Away Than Ever Before...

Someone asked me today if I was happy I was nearing the end of this program. I quickly answered yes. He then asked if I would do it again. I quickly shook my head "No." Then thought for a second, and said "Maybe, after some time has passed."

Don't get me wrong, the year has been great! I've had more sincerely incredible experiences that I'd ever expected to have in a life time. But too many incredible things, packed into eight months, and self-reflexive examination on top of it absolutely takes the life out of a person.

I've slept in at least 19 different beds in the last 4 months because of my travels. From the piles of poop in India to the constant caffeine boosts in Turkey, my body is tired and more than ready to get to that 20th bed, the first one in a long time that will make me remember what home feels like.

8 days, not like anyone's counting...
B(ee)

We are in...Turkey?

Last night we had an "India" experience in Turkey. Half of us drove to the train station, unpacked the van of all our huge bags, entered the train terminal to hear the words "There is no train."

Not literally. There is a train. And a month ago, when our tickets were purchased, the rails from Konya to Istanbul were complete and suitable to travel on. Since two days ago, this is no longer the case. The line is closed for repairs until May 16th. This would have been nice to know, oh, before we packed the van, or maybe even when we bought our tickets, or at least somewhere in between.

So...yet again...we piled onto a private bus, this time barely squeezing our bodies and our bags into an 18-seater van --- every single seat was taken by a body and the aisle was chock-a-block full of bags.

At least this was the last move.

Now, back in Istanbul, on the Asia side this time. We arrived at 7:30 and looked around for a place to eat --- people looked at us like we were crazy. Again...I'm in Turkey, right? My body wasn't transported back two months to India where nothing opens until 11 and everything is closed before 8? No...there's still kebab and smiling faces everywhere we go, this is definitely Turkey.

Exhausted doesn't begin to describe,
B(ee)

Easter Fromps and Frolicks...

Yesterday, spending yet another Easter away from home, I attended my first Orthodox Easter service and then drove for two hours to Hasankayf, an old ruined Roman castle on the Tigris River.

The caves were by far the most beautiful place we've visited thus far in Turkey, and quite possibly the most beautiful place we've visited thus far on CRC. On the 2-hour drive to the caves, we were all wondering whose idea it was to put us all on a bus again, considering we've spent at least half of the past week on buses.

But after we had lunch (literally) sitting over the Tigris river and hiked up the old Roman road to the castle, which sits on a piece of higher land surrounded by deep gorges, we understood why this place was a must visit. Our professor had to literally herd us like sheep away from the half-ruined rooms and ruins when it was time to go back to the bus.

Today we're heading out on yet another bus ride (13 hours this time) to a Sufi village south of Ankara. We'll be there for five days and then head back to Istanbul, the last stop on our 8-month journey. A month from now, I'll most likely be passed out in my own bed with my own blankets, and bags still packed to the brim.

Happy (late) Easter,
B(ee)

Turkey and Europeanness...

I was talking with a fellow American (not on the program) the other night and dinner who's been teaching English in Ankara for the past few months. We got on the topic of our first impressions of Turkey and my immediate reaction was "It's so nice to be back in the West again...everything is on time and reliable and I just know how it works here!" He laughed and replied "That's funny because I feel so out of place here because I think it's very Asian."

I was awestruck by the reply. But considering he's never been to Asia, the reply was understandable.

Now, I'm not claiming to be an expert on any of the countries I've lived in by any means, but I've made some adjustments to my lifestyle as a result of living in Asia for 6 months. Little things like remembering that nothing has to be on time, and most likely will not be. Or observing hierarchies around me and putting myself within them in certain circumstances, despite how much it goes against my values.

In Turkey, I can still feel some of these values (mainly the hierarchies) but it doesn't take a huge effort for me to go to the store and buy groceries or order food and have at least a slight idea of what will be on the plate in front of me. The showers still don't have curtains and are still directed to spray into the toilet. However, the water is hot immediately! But for someone not coming out of a run across Asia, Turkey could be a rather strange land.

We're currently in Goreme (Cappadocia), living in a hotel that has been carved out of a mountain, surrounded by faerie chimnie mountains with thousands of caves carved into them. It feels a little bit like Star Wars, or some other fairy tale land. [I tried to upload pictures but it took too long and didn't even work. Check Picasa!]

But as the end draws closer, I find myself wishing for a stable place to stay and a reliably comfortable bed.

Home, is all I want right now,
B(ee)

Language Skills and Other Things...

Guess what?! I can officially order in Turkish and specify what I do and do not want...all in Turkish!...will accompanying hand gestures that aren't really necessary. I'm so proud of myself! I know most of my vegetables and I know what meat words are, although I'm not always sure what they are. It's a much better feeling, knowing enough of the language to know how to get through daily tasks like getting food, pharmacy things and all that.

Eating as a vegetarian is getting irritating. Bread and cheese (cold), bread and cheese (hot!), bread with some vegetables and cheese, or...just bread? The choices are varied...really...

Our week last week was insane! We had two to three classes a day, all away from our hotel so we spent a lot of time on the metro (which is unbelievably quiet, both the train and the people) getting form place to place. It was like real college again! Instead of one big field trip. Although the field-tripping starts again next week when we head to Cappadocia (aka faerie chimney land). We had classes on: Islam, political science, sociology, and Turkish language. Most of our professors were fabulous and we learned a lot about the political history and current situation in Turkey and social politics as well. Islam...on the other hand...hm...

Some topics we discusses that are floating around in my brain are: secularism, minority rights, "Europeanness", and modernization.

That's all for now,
B(ee)

Learning Turkish...

I'm not sure whether it's the fact that there is little to no English everywhere we go, or the familiarity of the script, or the friendliness of the people here, but I already know more Turkish than Thai or Hindi...and I've only been here a week! We start formal Turkish lessons tomorrow (also the start of many more classes in Ankara), but even without those I'll know a bunch of Turkish by the end of my time here.

We've been matched up with a huge group of students from universities in Ankara and they've been wonderful hosts for us, even aside from teaching us Turkish! Hanging out with peers has been one aspect of the program that's really been lacking so far so it's great to finally get some intercultural interaction with people our age.

Although Ankara is not as amazing and fantastical as Istanbul, we're still having a wonderful time and I'm sure I'd be absolutely in love if I hadn't spent a week in Istanbul prior to coming here.

Our classes are looking really great here! Turkish language, Politics and Modernization of Turkey, Islam, Sufism and Popular Religion in Turkey, Women and Islam...and more! It's going to be a jam-packed two weeks, but it's looking really fun already!

Wrapped in Turkey's arms,
B(ee)

Toasts in Turkey...

Some fellow CRCers and I made a toast last night. To cafes and to cobblestone streets; to water that is scorching hot immediately and to living circumstances that are basic, but cleanly; to learning how to trust people again and getting the same answer from three different people when you ask for directions.

India was a whirlwind, something to be remembered and cherished with space, in time. I can't say that I loved it, but I certainly didn't hate it. It was an incredible experience while it was happening, but I'm glad to be back in a place where I feel comfortable making friends with the locals and relaxing a little on my vacation.

We saw garbage trucks yesterday and street cleaners! We've already made some friends at the stores nearby and friends mean free hot apple tea which is wonderful in this winter-y weather.

I realized yesterday that if I had come to Istanbul from home, I would think it was incredibly busy and filled with people. But coming from a country that boasts the largest population in the world (yes, it passed China last year!) where privacy can't even be bargained for, this city is heaven. Our windows don't look out into someone's house! I can eat a meal without the men in the restaurant staring at me like a critic would a piece of art! There are sidewalks! I've never appreciated sidewalks so much in my life...

In appreciation,
B(ee)

A Twinkle in my Eye, Turkish Delights...

I knew that I was no longer in India the minute my feet hit the tarmack in Turkey. We boarded buses that seem wider than any motorized vehicle I've been on in my life. And I could stand while the bus was moving without clutching on to something (or someone) for dear life. The drivers not only drove on the side of the road I learned to drive on, they also stuck to that side of the road reliably! Both on the airport tarmack and in Istanbul!

There are numerous other differences between what I saw in Northern India and here in Turkey. And even though I do feel much more comfortable, at home, here, it's still distinctly different from what I see as "The West". There's a flavor of Asia in the air, in the art, in the pace of life, which makes sense considering Istanbul is the only city sitting on both the European and the Asian continents. But simple things, like head gestures, are familiar to me here. And just when I was getting used to the Indian head bobble!

One major thing I've noticed is that, at least in the area we're staying in (right near the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia), there is very little English around. In the other countries we've been in, the least a restaurant has had has been a poorly translated menu that gives you at least some idea of what you're ordering. Here, there's not even that. But the script is familiar, which is essential. But because of it, even in the short few hours we've been here we've picked up more words than we've learned in a few weeks in India. The possibilities of actually learning a minimal amount of Turkish are looking bright!

As good as "rugged living" is for my soul, I can't lie that it's nice to know that I have reliable electricity, hot water, and clean living arrangements for most of the next two months.

Reviving and relaxing,
B(ee)

Curious Ethics...

A few days ago, I experienced an instance of what I've been calling "curious ethics" here. I was in a store, made a purchase and somewhere in between paying and leaving "misplaced" my wallet. It was all kind of odd, not sure whether it fell out of my lap or was taken out of my bag, but either way, it wasn't on me when I went to pay for food five minutes later. I went back to the store, twice, and was met with a "No English, ma'am" the second time I returned. Curious, very curious.

So I filed a police report, arranged to cancel credit cards (collect calls are impossible to make in India) and was most upset about loosing my irreplaceable Hampshire ID --- everything else was either expired or renewable. I had a "like mother like daughter" moment when my mom, without prompt, was most upset about the Hampshire ID.

But low and behold, I get a call the next day at my hotel that I need to go pick something up at the police station...right away. I walked down there, half expecting to only get my business cards and maybe my useless IDs back. But everything was there --- save 2,000 rupees and the ragged-edged wallet itself --- cards and trinkets (even my paper soap) wrapped in a copy of my passport that I kept in my old wallet. Supposedly, some "school children found it at the market down the road"...where I haven't been.

Some questions pop to mind --- Isn't it interesting that the money is the only thing that matters? What did they buy with those 2,000 rupees? Did they even know what the credit cards were (they're rarely accepted much less used here in India) Are there schoolchildren somewhere who are 10 rupees happier? And most importantly, who would want a torn-up, ragged, oil-stained Vera Bradley wallet?

How curious are the ethics of all this?

B(ee)

My Puzzle In A Country...

India is starting to make a little sense. The puzzle pieces are all still scattered all over my mind and other places I haven't found yet, but I'm starting to turn some over and even connect a few! I'm not sure they'll stay connected for long, but I'll take success as it comes and goes.

I had my first real Indian sickness a few days ago. Turns out, looks and tastes can be deceiving and you don't find out until 8 hours later when your stomach wakes you up in the middle of the night to rid itself of foul substances in your digestive system. I missed going on the field trip to see the place where The Buddha gave his first teachings, but bed was pillow and the toilet were the only things I could manage that day.

Over that and feeling much better, we're been exploring Banaras for our last few days here until we head off to Sikkim tomorrow for colder climates and more Tibetan food! Yum! Yesterday, we went to a goddess worship microcosm of India 80 kilometers away from Varanasi. We got to meet two aghor practitioners, one male and one female which was a rare experience, even for our guide here. The aghor practice is completely orally passed and otherwise very secret so we didn't learn much about their practice, but it was an amazing experience to feel the presence of the female aghori from Bengal. She was one of the warmest and kindest women I've ever met and was happy that we all came because now she knows that her children also live in the United States.

India has been a great experience and I hope that life finds me back here, but in all honestly, I'm ready to walk down the street and not have to worry about stepping in cow dung or have strange men comment at me for no reason.

Ready for something a little less intense,
B(ee)

The City of 108 Names...

Bags locked, people arranged on the lower-most of the triple-decker beds of the B1 3AC car headed for Varanasi, or Banaras, or Kashi, depending on whose asking and whose responding, we leave the mountains of Risikesh for a different sort of settlement further up the Ganga, or or Ganges, depending on which textbook you consult.

The swaying of the train rocks us all to sleep, singing an initially ear-splitting lullaby that soon becomes sweetly familiar as the wheels of the train clank-clank-clank along the seemingly-endless line of tracks. I fall asleep with one arm clutching my bag with valuables: passport, wallet, camera, iPod, and the other cradling my mandolin, legs wound-up in the straps of my backpack.

“CHAI GARAM CHAI GARAM CHAI” is my alarm clock this morning. I sit up, sleepy-eyed, and feel a Styrofoam plate with vegetable cutlets and a masala omlette stuffed into my lap in between eye rubs. The man will be back to claim his 40 rupees later. The breakfast is almost edible, but everything tastes better after being washed down with a 5 rupee cup of chai.

~*~

I arrive in Banaras after hundreds of miles of yellow flowers and a few too many experimentations with the train food vendors who earn a living by moving up and down the train line, jumping on one train after another and walking up and down the aisles vats of chai, buckets of chips, and fanny platters of chickpeas and tomatoes. I climb off the train with everything I boarded with! --- an accomplishment considering the horror stories I’ve heard about stolen handbags, backpacks, and shoes.

I’ve been told that if I’m looking for the “typical Indian experience”, I’ll find it in Varanasi (or Banaras, depending on who‘s talking). The streets are filled with people dodging bicycles weaving in and out of rickshaws who will stop for nothing but the highly revered cows who move from one trash heap to the next in search of India’s delicacy for its holy, free-roaming livestock: Food Scraps à la Plastic Bag. At sunset, looking out from my hotel room balcony, I see sadhus clad in saffron robes and lay Hindus flocking to the Ganga for the evening ritual fire puja. India: where ropes of spirituality are tied to outright contradictions to form a complex web of chaotic existence coated with a thick layer of dust.

~*~

Watching a human corpse lay on a platform of sandalwood logs, torso separated from legs by engulfing flames, waiting to be burned into ash and accepted into Mother Ganga-ji, a serene calm resonates throughout my body. Death is close.

I don't feel the knot in my throat until I look away from the burning corpse and think about what it would be like to see someone I knew down there. Women aren't allowed on the cremation grounds, so my view was basically where I would have been --- if they let me there at all! Then the knot came. I remembered what it was like to watch the few bodies I've seen be placed and dropped into wholes in the ground, how quickly they disappeared and how distant it made me feel from them. I like it this way much more. It seems more personal, more ceremonial, like you have more time to say goodbye for good and then after, you never know, you could just be swimming among the ashes of a loved-one. That's comforting to me. Now that's not saying that I would swim in the Ganga-ji anytime soon...or ever.

In a holy place,
B(ee)

ALSO!...

I've bought my ticket home. A sign of the end. And the beginning. The end of an incredible journey, pilgrimage, chapter of my life, and being home ignites the turning of a page and continuation of the story.

p.s. Everyone should read Siddhartha. Amazing story with (at least) a morsel of insight for each of us.

Hare Om...

India is leading me on one big introspective journey. Just when I thought my days of introversion were behind me, there the Ganga came, making me turn inward again all over again. But we've been having some great times, me and the Ganga. I even cleansed myself in her sacred waters yesterday. Freezing, it was. And I'm not sure what my feet touch at the bottom: plastic bags, other trash, decaying corpses...I'd prefer not to think about it.

Sentences are still hard to form. Words come out in a conjumbled mess and I have the feeling, stronger than ever, that you really have to see, hear, smell, touch, and experience India to understand the depth of some of the things I would say. But I managed to put together some prose with pictures from Kumba Mela.

Kumba Mela is essentially a three-month long festival of renunciants (sadhus) that happens every 12 years and we were in Haridwar just in time to catch the beginning of it. We spent four days in a sadhu camp with Swami G, a guru from Ujjain. Some of the best four days of my life, save being woken up at 3:45 every morning by sadhus chanting, dancing, and singing.

I'm also loving the meaning of these Indian greetings. Namaste (my light in you touches your light in me) and Hare Om (blessed praises to the sound of existence) are a few favorites!

~*~











Walking from the ashram, to the camp of Swami G,
My heart is pulled in opposite directions.
It moves me to tears and smiles.

A horse, with a twisted fetlock,
Nimbly navigating its home in the concrete jungle yesterday,
Today, standing still,
Over a small pool of blood.
He whinnies, softly, as a friend nuzzles his neck.

On the same block, one sandlot away,
A puppy, finds his next meal,
When a shopkeeper pours the remains of his breakfast ---
Crumbs of bread, onto the street.
He pushes his muzzle inside the plastic
Digging, deeper, for morsels of sustenance.

My heart cries, my eyes smile.

~*~

Swami says “God is not many.
God is one.”

Swami says “God is everywhere.
In everyone.”

Swami says “Stop searching for god.
God is in you.”

My eyes still glance, from side to side,
Then land in Swami’s eyes,
Flooded with
god.

~*~

Inside a Haridwarian temple,
A table ---
Cluttered with used candle holders
Already-burnt matches, red string,
And fresh orange flowers,
Vibrant as the pictures of baby god(desse)s they were presented to.

Splotches of candle wax
Mask the faces of Shiva and Krishna.
Their eyes no longer capture the gaze of darshan-seekers.

Divine leftovers.

~*~

















I am pushes to extremities,
Laughing at a trombone player in a parade one minute,
And demanding for my change from a rickshaw driver the next.
My falsified anger releases satisfaction;
My smiles are a reminder of others’ woes.

~*~















A clothes-less sadhu,
Traveling by foot with ash as clothing,
Earth as his home,
Humanity his family,
Invites us into his tent
Which sits on the edge of the Ganges ---
Overflowing with the sacred ---
And offers us cups of tea.

His ash-washed face
Illuminates
A light
Brighter than the bulb above his head.

When the city turns off the power,
The tent remains full of his light.

~*~

A Shiva linga, phallus,
With a cobra coiled round
The sacred gift.

Milk and water purify,
Flowers decorate the
sacrificial alter.
This puja had no prior
meaning to me,
But my eyes are in a
trance,
My body is in tune.

As I listen to the foreign
parade of noises,
My mind gravitates
towards that
Which Swami tells me is singular, everywhere, in me.

Can't I Just Unpack?!...

The kind of traveling we're doing now --- the type where you don't even bother unpacking your clothing and instead limit yourself to two outfits, the one you arrive in and the one you leave in, for the course of your time in a certain place --- just isn't my cup of chai.

Delhi was...a big city. But contrary to the theory that my father put forward during our time in Bangkok, Delhi did not look a thing like "any big city you'll ever visit". I was surprised, but it was refreshing that crowds of millions of people in one place can look different than just any other city. I was happy to live away from the hustle and bustle of the proper city, happy to see some "essentials" while there, and happy to leave the smog-ridden airs of India's capitol city...

...for the smog clouds of Amritsar --- the capitol of the Sikh world and home to their most renowned temple, The Golden Temple. It was an absolutely beautiful structure, some say, and I would agree, the second-most beautiful in India next to the Taj, of course. It had all white marble fort-like walls surrounding an inner "tank" of water, in the middle of which sat a gold-encrusted temple. There was one walkway to and from the temple, symbolizing our singular and universal passage into and out of this world.

We ran into a wonderful Sikh man who offered to give our group a 2...ahem 4-hour (remember to multiply at least twice to compensate for Indian time) tour of the temple. He not only talked with us about the temple, but was open to questions about his faith and the history of his people in Punjab. He told a very interesting story, one that I would be hard-pressed to find in any World History textbook that I have come across in my Western education. He also brought us to a wonderful Indian restaurant and then took some of the ladies shalwar and shawl shopping. He was a saint of his faith, and the world, and I was personally enormously touched by his presence and his words.

And now, after a few too many days of smoggy air and busy roads full of rickshaws, cars, and bikes, we are in Dharamsala --- the seat of the Tibetan Government in Exile. The adorable little town looks like it was painted onto the side of a the foothills (these would be called mountains anywhere else in the world) of the Himalayas. And although we can see snow under the shadow of the enormous clouds perched on top of the Big Guys, today was perfectly warm and sunny and I even took off a layer when we got here! I'm told this is not normal and Google tells me it should get a bit chillier in the coming week.

I love Dharamsala. And I think I would love it even if I hadn't come from three consecutive cities of smog. It's a lovely place, as far as I have seen. Highlights of our eight days here: long life ceremony for the Dalai Lama (who is in town!) along with thousands of others, private meeting with the Karmapa Lama (spiritual leader of the Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism), visits to NGOs, talks on Tibetan Buddhist philosophy. It's looking great!

Breathing clean air,
B(ee)

Overwhelmed, in a Word...

Internet is scarce here in India. As are heating, electricity, and water for the next month or so. Communication will not be as frequent as it has been the past four months (god...has it been that long?!), although I wish it could be.

India. So far. Has been so many things, but most of all one huge sensory overload. The sights (bright colors, people people people, and poverty at its worst), the sounds (frequent melodious car horns, talking, screaming) and the smells (spice-filled food, trash decomposing on the side of the street, sewage) --- it's felt like a nation-wide, never-ending movie that I've been placed in without a script or part to play.

I've already fell deep into and have seen the light out of my first India-induced illness. It could have been the food; it could have been the exhaust fumes; it could have been the overwhelm. But I did not let it stop me from visiting the Taj Mahal yesterday. Checking it off as my second Wonder of the World, I can understand why it is on that list. It was absolutely beautiful and we got there late enough for the fog to have settled so we could actually see the structure in all its white marble beauty.

We're moving six times in eight weeks in India, moving from Delhi to Amitsar to Dharamsala to Haridwar to Varanasi to Sikkim and Rajastan. It should be quite the experience, and if I can't tell you all about it here, I'm sure you'll be hearing about it for years to come when I return.

Overwhelmed, in the best of ways,
B(ee)

The "Typical" Indian Experience...

I'm here! In India! Out of the horrible concrete jungle of Bangkok and feeling better already!

My last few days in Thailand (and I'm not really sure I like to think of Bangkok as part of the Thailand I love, anyway) were memorable in their own sort of ways. Bangkok made me and my computer sick. Me, litterally ill; my computer, crashed. But with a fresh hard drive and a whole new country of adventures to embark on, it's feeling nice to move on from Bangkok, to say the least...

I'm sorry to bash on Bangkok so much. I'm sure it has its redeeming qualities. I just couldn't find them between the hassle, dirt, smog, and crowds.

Ok, honestly, maybe India isn't that much different. But it's new! And the best part is that if I feel Bangkok-sentiments growing about any place I end up, it will be alright because I won't be there longer than two weeks!

And now, after I'm done ranting about Bangkok, we have first impressions of India.

We ended up getting out of the New Delhi airport well after midnight last night and were carted off in taxis to a Tibetan community in Old Delhi. When we finally got there, it was 2 AM (felt like 3:30 AM) and we were all ready to crash. Little did we know, we were about to receive the "typical" Indian experience.

The group had to be separated into two different hotels right down the street from each other. So we sent a few people off into the first hotel and the rest of us (eight people) follow Debbi, our new assistant director and local India expert, down the street to the other hotel. After knocking on the locked door for a good three minutes, we finally hear a groan from inside the building. When Debbi said that we were here to check in, the voice seemed to utter "...no..." Molded persistent by living in India for 10 years, Debbi insisted that we in fact did have reservations and should be let in. This went on for a few more minutes until the man finally came to the door and unlocked it just enough for Debbi to get her body inside the building, insisting that the rest of us follow her. They told us that all the rooms were taken; they had no keys. Debbi knew differently. After bringing the worker from the first hotel over, the situation was finally resolved and we were given the keys to four rooms with minimal furniture, no hot water, standing at a solid 40 degrees Fahrenheit.

Needless to say, I slept in layers.

And lucky for me, it's the style here to wear large Pashmina-style scarves instead of coats. I feel like I'm wearing a comfy blanket around all day. It's like I'm at home...almost...

There's much more I could write about. Many emotions have been going through me in the last twelve hours, but those feelings will resolve themselves in other blog posts.

Exploring, myself and my world,
B(ee)

Christmas "Vacation"...

So much to update on, but to make a long story short, I had a splendid time showing off Chiang Mai to my parents and I think they enjoyed it almost as much as I did. I felt like a tourist for the first time there during our visit to Doi Suthep, but I guess I was just a tourist trying her best to fit in my whole time there anyway.

Bangkok...we all wished we could have done without, but knew it was a "must" if we were in Thailand. We saw may different worlds there, and maybe these collisions left our bodies confused and unsettled. The best part of Bangkok was listening to fireworks from all over the city echo across a skyline of skyscrapers for a good thirty minutes after the clock struck twelve.

Cambodia, we loved. Particularly after the unsettling feelings we had from Bangkok. The temples are gorgeous, the food is delicious, and our hotel had a pool. We had a wonderful tour guide (and driver) who gave us a very personalized tour of the sites in the area and even complied when we didn't want to vist the market or (god forbid!) more temples because of the heat.

I loved Cambodia so much that I decided to stay until I have company from my trip in Bangkok. I visited a wonderful orphanage last night and it made me want to spend some quality time in this country. For the first time over my break, I felt like I was back integrating myself with the culture rather than just doing the normal tourist rounds and it was really nice. I hope life finds me back in this wonderful, beautiful country surrounded by smiling faces, glorious laughter, and warm hearts.

Keeping the travel high,
B(ee)