A yoga teacher graduate

Today is the last day of our month long training. So much to say once I process it all. I am so grateful for this experience and know now that this is why I came to Bali.

It's about so much more than postures. It's about a way of life, of taking care of our bodies, of the way we move about in the world.

Up until now I have just taken classes. I have never delved into the origins of yoga and known how it came about from the original teachings in India. And I have only just scratched the surface.....there is so much to know and I could be studying for the rest of my life and never know it all. It's fascinating and it makes so much sense.

Tonight we will celebrate with food and music and dancing and joy. I will miss my 5:30 mornings with a group of like minded souls. But I plan to carry forward all that I have learned and practice each day and grow and learn as much as possible. I will live with a yoga heart full of love and compassion. There are definitely challenges along the way, but now I see them as a chance to practice.

Om shanti. (translated means PEACE)

My free day

I had a lovely day of rest from yoga training on Saturday. Wendy and I went to the organic farmer's market and picked up some wonderful food. We had lunch at my friend Ketut's small cafe and then went for a swim at a local hotel. In the afternoon we went with my friend, the wonderful artist Ketut Budiana to a yoga class in Seminyak, about 45 minutes away from Ubud. The class was taught in Indonesian and was wonderful. We practiced in a local park, in front of a gorgeous museum. The large park was full of Indonesians playing with their children and getting wonderful fresh air and exercise. It was so very nice.

I have been teaching Mr. Budiana some English and he teaches me Indonesian. He is a delightful and incredibly talented man. He has been an art teacher at a local university for 30 years and has recently retired. He still has art exhibitions here in Indonesia as well as in Japan and Australia. He is a wonderfully creative soul with a great sense of humor. He was very shy with his English at first but is quickly getting some confidence and loves to play tricks on people. I adore the time I spend with him.

Each day in yoga training seems to get better and better. I look forward to it each morning and have no trouble getting up when the alarm goes off at 4:45. I love having 3 hours of yoga in the morning and more in the afternoon. I am learning so much that I will take with me in my life. I feel as if I am only now getting started. Yoga is the best medicine for me.

Yoga training day 12

I had a very hard time getting out of bed today. I didn't want to go to yoga this morning, but when I got up and got moving at my usual 5 am, things got better and I started to look forward to it as I do most mornings now.

Yesterday was hard. During our morning practice my bag got knocked into the water trough/moat that surrounds our open air yoga space. Everything was soaked. My favorite red leather purse, money, passport, cell phone, iPhone, vitamins, business cards, credit cards. It really rocked my world and made me feel so unsettled. I fished everything out of the water and spread it all out on the floor to dry. I had all the cash to pay my rent, so there were many bills on the floor along with everything of importance that I have with me. It was a very strange thing to see it all in front of me.

I realize there are much more important things happening in our world but this seemed like a major catastrophe for me personally. Perhaps the lesson is to not put so much importance on material things. But I have certainly been practicing this for the last 1.5 years as I have lived out of one suitcase and not had a home of my own in all that time......

We have been learning about Ayurveda medicine the last few days in class. It's fascinating. We have everything we need to know to heal our bodies through this practice. Bali is full of herbs and plants for every ailment. It would be so great if the western world could get back to this way of thinking instead of pouring the billions that we do into the drug companies. I did it myself for a very long time. I had good insurance and happily took everything that my doctor prescribed until I had a cabinet full of pills for anything I might come down with. I'm grateful to learn new ways of taking care of myself and others.

Kiyo and Sky

Sky, my yoga guru

Me at Tamapksering, the water temple

Our yoga group at the Water Temple

Harriett and Me

Yoga training day nine

I am loving this practice and feel so much better each day. Physically and emotionally. My head feels clear and I am an open vessel receiving the most amazing blessings. I am learning many new things about myself and the way I see the world. I feel like this is a very intense time of transformation as I continue on my life's journey.

Chanting in the morning is a beautiful way to get centered and grounded and clean things out. And it sounds so lovely. Each time we practice yoga, it gets deeper and deeper into my soul. This is not the yoga that I have been doing in California and Utah for the last 15 years at all. This is ancient, original practice that was started many thousands of years ago in India. The yogis knew all of these things about our bodies back then. I have come to understand more that real yoga is 95% lifestyle and 5% physical practice. And it is so much about the breath. I am learning new ways to breathe and use the breath inside my body.

As my body gets more conditioned, I find that I don't need as much food as I thought I did. And I crave healthy, natural foods. Well most of the time. As I sit here in the cafe with my computer I am enjoying a delicious chocolate chip cookie with my tea.  Some things may never change.

I am getting used to getting up at 5 am each day. Most days I look forward to my meditative motorbike ride to the studio in the dark. Except when it rains.

I haven't really seen anyone outside of my yoga group and my room mate for the last 10 days, which is different for me. I usually enjoy a pretty active social life, but all that has changed for now. And that feels alright. 

Our days are spent doing about three hours of practice in the morning that includes chanting, meditation, prayers, puja and yoga. In the afternoon we have another class on yoga poses, or dance or voice lessons. It's really wonderful and diverse. I feel like I'm getting such a well rounded experience. 

It's about 8 pm now. Just enough time to go home, have a shower and go to bed. Such is the life of a yogi in training.

Namaste

sama yoga and me

The word Sama means balance. 

In Bali, you say Sama Sama, which means “everything is ok. All is well. All is in balance.”

For the last 8 days I have been deeply (and I mean deeply) embroiled in a yoga certification course here in Bali. It is something I have wanted to do for many years and this wonderful opportunity came for me to train with a man who I highly respect. It seemed like the perfect time to do it. I was feeling nervous to start. It would mean a big commitment and more importantly it seemed, was the fact that I would have to get up at 5 am six days a week for one month.

I get up each morning when my alarm rings at 5 am. I pull on some clothes, grab my bag and start my motorbike in the dark. I say a little prayer, place some fresh flowers on my handlebars and start off.

I make my way down the road, past the rice fields and see women walking with loads of vegetables on their heads, going to the market to sell their wares. There are other women cleaning the streets with small brooms. When I get to the center of Ubud, the scene explodes in the pre dawn morning. So many people getting ready to set up the morning market. Cars and trucks and motorbikes everywhere, filled with fruits, vegetables, fish, eggs, cloth and toys. It’s amazing to me how much activity is packed in the day of a Balinese person. They are incredible, hard working people. 

I get through the morning traffic and make my way up the hill to the village of Pennastanan. There are very dark, narrow parts of the road with many potholes that I must watch out for. After eight days I’m getting to know the road pretty well. As I drive through the village, many men sit in the corner Banjar watching the morning’s happenings. I smile and give a nod of the head. They smile back. Later on, they will be getting their cocks ready for the daily cock fights. I saw my first one about a week ago and it was fascinating. It’s a deep tradition here and is part of the prayers and ceremony, although some men get addicted and end up loosing their rice fields in the process of betting on the fights.

I get to the very end of the lane, park my bike, take out my flashlight and make my way down a steep set of stairs, across a bridge, past a huge banyan tree, up some muddy steps and end up in a place where I must balance carefully for about 10 feet. One side is a rice field full of water, the other side is the deep jungle canyon, and in the middle there is a 12 inch wide path that I must walk in the dark. Then the last set of uneven stairs leads me to Sky’s house. We meet in the open air pavilion, sit quietly and begin our morning chanting. We chant 108 times, the same number of beads on a set of prayer beads, or mala. My prayer beads have come with me from Tibet and I use them each morning.We begin our chanting in the dark of the morning and I listen as the dawn envelopes me.

After chanting and meditation, we do our morning Surya Namaskar, or Sun Salutations as the sun is rising. It’s a very beautiful practice and an amazing way to start the day. After this we usually do a 2 hour yoga class before breaking for tea and breakfast. Then we are finished until 3:00 when we come back for class that is more focused on teaching and breaking down the poses. At 5:00 there is a discussion with Swami Gi, the man who taught Sky all he knows. He is a wealth of knowledge and teaches us about Sanskrit, chanting and ancient rituals from India. These are things I have been interested in for a very long time and I am honored to learn from these two men.

There are 9 women in the class and two men. We will all know each other very, very well before the month is out. The people are from all over the world; Latin America, Germany, Australia, Sweden, Denmark and Japan. It’s a wonderful, diverse group of people.

During the month we will have voice lessons that will help us teach, music lessons, chanting and puja lessons and field trips to local temples to pray with the Balinese people.

I am in awe. And I am tired. And I am already deeply moved by this experience. 

Nyepi day and other thoughts

I wake up this morning to buckets of rain pouring down from the sky. I can hear the little creek behind the house filling up with water. I planned to go to an 8:00 yoga class, but there is no way Im going out on the motorbike in this weather.  I decide to stay in bed for a while and read the last few pages of my book, “A House in Bali” by Collin McPhee. It was a fantastic read. I bought it the day after I arrived in Bali but it has taken me 3 months to read it, along with all the other wonderful texts that have come into my life since I’ve been here. Collin McPhee was in Bali in the 1930’s to study and record gamelan music. He writes with a wonderful style and I have enjoyed the book very much. I’m sorry to see it end.

I’m thinking of my friends in the US who are all getting ready to watch the big Oscar Awards show today. It’s always my favorite day of the year and I love to go to a party, drink champagne and see what the actors are wearing and who will win. I will go to an internet café later to get online and see what the outcome of the show is.

I look across the street to the flooded rice fields and the green palms swaying in the rain. About 8 motorcyclists have taken refuge under the eves of the closed shop in front of the field. It’s too dangerous to drive, but they know it should be over soon.  In a while, the man who owns the shop will come and open the doors and make his prayers and offerings in front of the small temple at the side of the shop. I love watching him do this each morning.

The rain is pouring off the roof of my open air home. The pond in the middle of the yard is filling with rainwater. The beautiful purple, yellow and white orchids that hang from pots on the trunk of the trees are loving the moisture. Rain water splashes onto the floor and I have to be very careful when I walk close to the edge on the slick marble tiles. I love this house and feel so grateful for the chance to live in it. I’m comfortable here and it has become a place of social activity, with people stopping by, coming over for dinner and yoga and tai chi classes taking place here during the week. My friend Wendy will arrive next week from Australia to stay for a month and it will be nice to share this place with her.  

I light a stick of incense as I do each morning and evening, place some fresh flowers around it as an offering of my thanks, make a cup of hot chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey and begin to write. The geckos leave little presents of their droppings on the table, so I must clean it off before I sit down and open my computer. A cat has come into the kitchen and knocked over the garbage pail to get at the few scraps of tuna left from last nights dinner that I brought home from the small warung down the street. I get a beautiful meal of rice, veggies and tofu or tuna for about 10,000 rupiah, which is about 1 US dollar.

While waiting for my meal, I walk a half a block down the street to the Banjar, the local meeting place for the village where I live. They play music every night and have been busy making the Ogo-Ogo for the celebration coming up called Nypie.

I feel that some explanation is definitely needed here: The villages in Bali are created in a similar fashion to the Mormon “wards” in Utah. There is the head of the Banjar, like the president of the village. He makes sure all is going well with the people and heads up meetings and discussions for the village. Each Banjar has a music group, or gamelan, as well as a dance group who perform for the villages. There is always a huge temple in the village where important festivals and celebrations take place.

Nypie is a holiday that happens once a year in Bali, on March 5. It is a completely silent day. The whole island is closed for business. Not even an airplane can fly into Bali on Nypie. Everyone stays inside their home, do not use electricity or phones and uses the day to be with family and reflect and pray. Most people fast for the day and have a light meal after it gets dark. What a wonderful thing. It would be great if the whole world would take one day like this. Imagine all the resources we would save in one day, and the personal gifts that would come from it.

In the month before Nypie, each village creates great Ogo-Ogo statues made out of styrofoam. The Ogo-Ogos are fantastic and colorful and great works of art. They are scary demon looking creatures that are meant to scare away all bad energy and forces from the island. They are in many different forms and colors. The one in my particular village is a 12 foot tall woman with great giant breasts hanging down. She looks like she’s flying through the air and is holding a scary looking beast in one of her hands. I don’t know what she looks like because her head has not been placed on her body yet.

Each Banjar has a poster in front of the statues to show who has donated what amount to go towards the making of the Ogo Ogo. I talk to the boys for a while and tell them that I would like to make a donation of 100,000 rupiah. They excitedly accept and ask me to write my name on the board. “Ibu Christine. Chantik (beautiful) namanya” (name) they say. “Terimakasi! Terimakasi!” Which means Thank you. I am so happy to be part of this community and glad to play a very small part.

On the day before Nypie, all the statues in the area are paraded through the streets, musicians follow them, along with all the people from the village. They are all taken to the soccer field in the center of Ubud which is between Hannoman and Monkey Forest streets, and burned in a great fire. I am so looking forward to seeing and taking part this wonderful event.

It looks like the rain has stopped for now and there is the promise of blue sky in the distance. The day feels fresh and new.

A Day in Bali

Many people ask me how I spend my days in Bali. Each day is so completely different and I never know what is in store. That’s the joy of being in this magical place.

On this day I am jolted awake by my cell phone ringing at 7 am. I fumble around in my purse and fish out the ringing phone. It is Sari, the young Balinese man who takes care of the house I'm renting. He says he's at the front door. I stumble out of bed, shuffle across the front room in my nightshirt and shield one eye from the bright sun. I open the door and cannot help but smile at Sari. He is about 28 years old and he has one of the most brilliant smiles I have ever seen. His mouth literally takes up more than half his face and it seems like he has a thousand white teeth. "Selemat Bagi, Ibu Christine! You are sleeping?" he says. "I come to fix the stove". When he changed the gas tank the day before I couldn't get the two burner counter-top stove to light and asked him to come and take a look. "I not sleeping all night. I worry about the stove". He is such a thoughtful, wonderful guy. 

His wife Komang comes over every other day to clean the house, do the dishes, change the sheets, make the offerings to bless the house and whatever else needs doing. She is quiet and sweet and it’s nice to have her here.

After Sari leaves, I make some tea and try to wake up. I look out at the beautiful gardens, turn on the fountain and listen to the roosters crowing and the neighbors building something next door. The women carry stacks of newly made bricks on their heads to the men who will build the walls. The man across the street opens his small shop where he sells cold drinks, snacks, soccer balls and banana leaf hats that the rice farmers all seem to wear.

There is a small kitten that’s been hanging around the last few days, and she is back this morning. She's tiny but a tough little cookie. It looks like she's been through a lot in her short life. She is grey and white and it looks like her tail has been bitten or cut off. It's a short stump. She is skinny as hell. I watch her catch a dragonfly and eat it. She seems to be starving. I go and get her some milk, but she runs away as soon as I get near.

I put on some clothes, jump on my newly rented motorbike and go to the morning market to get some vegetables. The ladies all smile when they see me coming. They know I won't haggle too much with them and will end up paying "foreigner" prices. I buy garlic, tempe, onion, cabbage, a spinach-like green plant, and two potatoes. I also buy some little packets of curry, red chili spice and sesame seeds that I will toast and put on everything.

The market is filled with fish, eggs, exotic fruits and many other things I can't identify. Further on, there are the tourist market stalls, selling every kind of shoe, incense, clothing, jewelry, drums, toys, dolls, coconuts, bags, sarongs and much more. They don't bug me too much anymore. They can tell I"m staying a while.

I collect my things, get back on the bike and pay the parking man the equivalent of 20 cents. There is a big cremation happening tomorrow and there is a lot of activity and excitement around the royal palace across the street. Large towers are being made that will hold the body, and exquisite, huge bulls made out of paper mache are waiting to receive the ashes of the newly cremated body.  I will come back tomorrow to see all the action.

I bring my groceries back to the house, grab my computer and head to yoga class. After the hour and a half class, I sit at the café at Yoga Barn and do some work online while I have pumpkin soup and hot tea for lunch.

It begins to rain as I start back for home and that always freaks me out. I don’t like driving in the rain. I put my waterproof “mantle” on over my computer bag and purse and slowly-slowly make my way the mile and half to my house. When I get home I suddenly feel exhausted. I lay down and doze for about 30 minutes or so and then get up and take a shower and begin cutting vegetables for dinner. Anna Marie is coming over for the first time to have dinner and see the new place.

She arrives around 6 and stays for three hours. We talk non-stop and drink hot tea while I make dinner of pasta with vegetables mixed with my new spices and we share a cold Bintang beer to wash it down. She tells me of her recent time in India (she was there at the same time I was), going to the teachings of The Dalai Lama in Sarnath, and having the amazing opportunity to present him with a gift of one of her beaded wall hangings made especially for him. She is a dear friend and I’m happy she’s in my life.

I feel incredibly grateful tonight for so many blessings in my life and for the numerous blessings of this place called Bali.

Advenures in India - Part Four

After a very eventful and fun few days in Calcutta, we head back to the airport for our 2.5 hour flight to Port Blair in the Andaman Islands, off the SW coast of India. I had been there last year but was anxious to go back and see it through Dick Grace’s eyes. When I was here before, Dick asked me to go and visit a family that he supports, which I did. It will be so wonderful to see them again.

As we get off the airplane on the tarmac at Port Blair, we are hit in the face with a blast of hot air. It’s tropical and muggy and feels like a furnace. A huge change from the cool days and cooler nights of Calcutta. We go through customs and get our special permit needed to visit the Andamans and collect our bags. When we go outside there are two happy faces there to greet us. It is Ramu and Jayanthi, longtime friends of Dick and Ann.

They met in the Himalayas in Nepal several years ago when they were all hiking there. Ramu is a Commander in the Indian Navy and Jay works at a bank.  They live in Bangalore now but they used to be stationed in Port Blair so they know the area well. They have our hotels and transportation all arranged for us. I adore them right away and very soon we feel like we’ve known each other for lifetimes. They are both followers of the Guru Yogananda and are both very enlightened, very spiritual people. As it turns out, they are both Gurus of mine and teach me so much in just a few short days.

We go to the hotel to drop our bags and it’s like old home week. Dick and Ann have stayed here several times and the staff is anxious and happy to see them again. We are heartily welcomed and made to feel right at home. After we relax with fresh coconut juice and get settled in, we meet Ramu and Jay in the town center at the samosa shop. It is a custom for Dick and Ann to take a big box full of samosas to the family of Manisha.

Dick met 5-year-old Manisha around 7 years ago. She is mostly blind and comes from a family of 10 children. Two are blind and two have severe handicaps that make them unable to walk. They range from 3 years to 21 years old. The oldest is married and has one child of his own. They all live together in a very small house.  And they have no idea we are coming.

We pile into two auto rickshaws and make the 15 minute drive to Manisha’s house. When we arrive, the family is getting ready for a birthday party for one of the sons. It is perfect timing. The kids are all dressed up and they and their home are as clean as can be. Of course they are just beside themselves when they see that Grandpa Dick and Grandma Ann have arrived. It must have been like a gift from heaven to see them appear.

We squeeze into their tiny home and share in the small birthday cake that is brought for the 8 year old boy. (My apologies for not remembering all the names of the children). It is a festive and wonderful evening. Many photos were taken, songs were sung and delicious slivers of cake were shared along with delectable samosas.

Dick told all the children to get ready to go shopping the next evening so they could all pick out a new outfit. It is something they do with the family each time they visit. The kids are so excited but extremely well behaved. I am so impressed with this family. There is a beautiful light in all their faces and their bodies. They are happy and adjusted despite the tremendous amount of things they face, physically, financially and I would guess, emotionally. They are all very close and take good care of each other. Father likes to drink a little too much on occasion and Dick gave him a somewhat stern talking to, out of earshot of everyone else.

Bright and early the next morning, we get in our van to go snorkeling on the other side of the island. Dick knows the captain of the dive company, who has am amazing story about being lost at sea for several months.

I was feeling a tiny bit uneasy about going snorkeling in the Andaman sea because of my experience last year when I was left out in the middle of the ocean by a careless dive company. But I felt like I had a chance to erase those memories and knew I would be very well taken care of this time.

14 people pile into a rickety wooden boat with a small motor and a bit of shade that we sat under. The boat rocks from side to side very easily and the weight has to be carefully distributed. No sudden movements please…..

The loud motor roars to life, shaking the entire boat and making conversations almost impossible. We sail for about an hour to another small island and everyone grabs their gear and jump into the water. I am the second to last one out and as I gracefully slide into the sea, my swimming costume (as Indians call it) gets caught on a nail, splits at the crotch and stays mostly on the boat as I slip into the water. After a stunned moment of a silence, the laughter can be heard all the way back to Port Blair. Gloria unhooks my suit, which is now up around my neck, and I tug it back down around my body. It is now a very short dress. Luckily Ann was wearing a pair of shorts over her suit which she let me borrow so I didn’t sunburn my ass and scare the fish away.

We have a glorious day of snorkeling, the sea life appearing in unbelievable colors, shapes and sizes. We motor back to the islands, have a delicious lunch and head back to the hotel to get cleaned up for an evening of shopping. We make quite a scene in this small town when we walk into the store with 10 children to buy and outfit but it all goes smoothly and we are finished in about an hour.

The next morning we pack up our gear and head to the ferry for an hour and a half boat ride to Havelock Island where we will stay for three nights. Just for R&R, something I have never known Dick to do. It turns out to be a very special three days. Life changing, really in the things I learn and the people I meet. I feel that my life will take a new direction after Havelock Island.

We spend the days romping around the island on motorbikes, going swimming and snorkeling in the glorious waters of the Indian ocean, eating good food and being amongst friends, old and new.

On the fourth morning, it’s time to go back to Port Blair and to say goodbye to Ramu and Jay. We have all become very close on this trip and it feels difficult to know that we won’t see them again for a while. After a tearful goodbye, the four of us, Dick, Ann, Gloria and me get on the ferry. We all feel a little sad, but the mood is soon lifted as all the workers remember Dick the Jadu man and want him to do some more magic for them. Before we know it, the ride is over and we are back at Port Blair.

Once there, we take Manisha’s family out for a lovely dinner of tandoori chicken, rice, naan, deep fried spicy cauliflower and orange sodas. Everyone is so happy and joyful and it’s a wonderful time with the family. These children are very special and I know I will have a long connection with them as well.

The next day is our last in Port Blair and I decide to spend it catching up on some work and going on a boat ride to Ross Island, a place with a very long history of British rule. It is the Ellis Island of India. After a quiet, reflective day exploring this small island, I board the boat to go back to Port Blair. There is loud Indian music playing from the sound system and a funny Indian man in his mid 50’s gets up and starts dancing and grinding his hips to the music. Soon he is beckoning for me, the only foreigner on the boat to come and join him. Everyone is cheering and pushing me forward and before I know it, he and I are Bollywood dancing together to the sheer delight of everyone else. It was another unforgettable moment in my travels.

A House in Bali

I must interrupt our regularly scheduled program for an important update: I moved into a wonderful house in Bali today and feel compelled to write about it.

It is owned or rather rented from a Balinese family by an Australian woman named Joanne. I met her through one of the darling boys who works at Ubud Aura. She was going back to Australia for several months and Made said she may want to rent it out while she’s gone. He took me to meet with her before I left for India and we hit it off right away. She’s a wonderful woman in her mid fifties. She is very artistic and has spent the last year fixing up her place. After we talked for a few hours she said she would love to have me stay in her home while she’s gone and I was honored to accept. As I sit here tonight, my first night in my new home I cannot believe how fortunate I am that my life has led me here.

I walk up 4 steep stone stairs into a traditional Balinese home entrance. It has two stone pillars to mark the entry way and then there is always a wall directly in front of you to deflect any bad energy that may enter. I can go around this wall to the right or left. I choose to go to the left in a clockwise motion.

This is not a typical Balinese house, though. The whole front of the house is glass, and there is a view to the rice fields across the road.

When I enter the house, it is into a great open room with a high ceiling made of wood and bamboo. Beautiful cushions lie on the ground, dozens of pillows in blues, browns, reds and orange colors.  Waist high silver vases with aqua blue fabric draped around them stand in the corner. Custom made wood cabinets hold books, many small musical instruments, some movies and music.

At the other end of the room is a day bed with red mosquito netting hanging from the ceiling around the bed. Next to it sits a beautiful carved wooden couch with more colorful pillows. A low, large coffee table sits in front of the couch. Wooden bowls hold many porcelain eggs filled with some kind of beads so they make a wonderful shaking sound. Across the room, there is another, higher wooden table and three chairs. A perfect place to sit for breakfast.

The house is an L shape and is totally open to the inside. Along this open wall, there are brown and aqua colored curtains tied together at the four posts that hold up the roof. There is a beautiful garden in the center with a delightful pond. In the middle of the pond is a statue of a beautiful, shapely woman. There is water trickling out from her head and down into the pond.

Joanne’s friend Rose has just painted two murals on the wall behind the daybed. One is a woman in a red, sleeveless dress. She looks like an ancient princess. She has black hair and haunting, yet beautiful eyes. She is looking for something that she doesn’t have. She has a pink veil on top of her head and some wonderful sparkles have been added to it.  

Next to her is a warrior man. He has long black hair and a kerchief on his head, Balinese style. He has a very strong face and handsome lips. He wears a cloth on the lower half of his body while the upper half is bare. He has a quiver strapped across his chest, hanging to one side. His eyes are huge and beautiful and he is looking back slightly behind him, where the woman is.

Some of you may be getting the idea that this place is like the crazy mystery mansion where I lived in Corte Madera. And it is, but this time with a beautiful, clean energy. I feel like a got do-over.

Ahead and to the left is my bedroom. One wall is painted the same aqua blue color and  blue curtains hang over the glass door entrance. It feels like I am in the ocean in that room. There is a wine colored satin cover on the carved wooden bed and white mosquito netting surrounding it.  The bathroom is through the bedroom and Joanne was working on this project when she left. The paint is a wild red and silver color. She says she was experimenting and will change it when she comes back.

Next to the bedroom is a small kitchen. It is big enough to prepare a meal in, but nothing else. There is a two-burner countertop stove that is hooked to a gas tank below. I am looking forward to being able to cook for myself again after so long. The counters are covered in dark grey and black river stones. Much like the ones in my Mill Valley house. The floor is also made of small bits of stone and there is a yin yang symbol in the middle of the floor. On the counter, a small sign reads “This is Spirit. This is Grace. This is my peaceful Bali place”.

A small refrigerator is outside of the kitchen in a custom built cabinet that matches the others. It has glass cabinets on top and some drawers on the side. Next to that is a second bedroom that is done in light red colors. It has a single bed with a beautiful satin cover, red twinkle lights and a small table on the side. At the back of this bedroom there is a door that opens up into a huge, third bedroom and also a bathroom there. This room has been closed off though, and is not used due to some water and mold damage that the landlord promises to fix in the coming weeks.

The fountain is softly trickling, the yard lights are illuminating the pond and the luscious green plants and trees. I can hear Balinese singing coming from a temple not far away. I thought about turning on the stereo, but this is much better.  I wonder if I will wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a dream. It certainly feels like one. A really, really good one.

Adventures in India - Part Three

After the flower market we head to the Kalighat area, also known as the red light district of Calcutta. It is one block away from the Kali Temple and Mother Teresa's home for the dying.

Krishna and Sanjeev meet us after we park the van and we wind our way through the alleys until we arrive at New Light India, a shelter that is above a set of brothels. The ladies all wait at the front of the lane looking for customers. They are in their finest saris. Some are so young, some are from Nepal. They are the same ladies from last year and we smile and say hello as I pass by.

As we make our way down the smoky, muddy, trash strewn walkway, we pass by many brothel doors and get a slice of life in the lane. We go up the stairs to the shelter that New Light runs for the children of the prostitutes. They provide a safe place for the kids, help with homework, medical care and hot meals. There is a big sign welcoming us and the children are all lined up, some blowing on conch shells to herald our arrival. Dick and Ann have not been here before, but it is a place that I spent a lot of time at last year. I am very excited to see the children and the staff again.

Urmi Basu is a beautiful woman of 49 years and puts all of her energy and her life into her New Light project. She is known in this community as a savior and a woman who does not ever take "no" for an answer. She is warm and loving and is a huge inspiration to me.

We have a wonderful visit with the kids and staff and join them in having lunch. It was so nice for Dick and Ann to spend more time with this woman who I adore and they were very impressed with her and her work. After about an hour, we walked down the New Light II, a second shelter located inside the crematorium, where bodies are burned and placed in the river. The children who attend this shelter are children of the lowest cast people, the ones who take care of the dead. They mean nothing to the rest of society in India. I have never understood this because cremation is such an important part of the culture and is necessary. I would think that these people would be much more respected, but it is not so. We spend time with the kids, Dick does he magic show and we are soon boarding our van to go to the Soma Home for Girls, another of Urmi's projects.

Soma Home houses 36 girls, all of whom are daughters of the women working in Kalighat. They attend public school, have a safe place to live, medical care and are shown another way of life. If it weren't for Soma Home every one of these girls would probably be in the prostitute business. An idea I cannot even let myself think about for too long because I know each of these girls well and it turns my stomach to think of what their life would be like.

I lived at Soma Home with the girls for a month last year and I am so excited to see them, I'm almost peeing in my pants. It is a joyful reunion indeed. The girls have grown, their hair is longer and they look great. We are so happy to see each other and when it is time to leave I promise that I will be back in a week after my tour with Dick and Ann. My heart is overflowing with love. Dick and Ann were very impressed with Urmi's work and wanted to have her meet us for dinner so they could talk more and talk about how they could support her further. It was a wonderful first day of our time in India.

Early the next morning after filling our bellies with fabulous food at the Oberoi, we board our van to take us to The Southern Health Improvement Samity, which is located about an hour outside of Calcutta.  Wohab and Sabitri run this amazing organization which has a hospital, dental care, a focus on deaf children, schools for boys and girls, organic gardening and also runs medical boats into the remote Sunderban Islands in the Bay of Bengal.

We have a great visit with the team, take a quick tour of the hospital which includes the maternity ward where 3 babies have just been born. I visit with a woman who is holding her new born baby, and the woman's mother who seems very happy to be a new grandma. I tell her that I am a grandma too and tell her about my little Julian. The doctor explains in Hindi what I am saying to the woman and we smile and hug each other.

Soon, we load up in the car and head for the Sunderbans, where we board a medical boat. As we are getting settled, I see a holy man who walks around with his blessed oil and red paint and gives people blessings. I ask him to come onto the boat and do his thing. He blesses us all with prayers, places a red dot on our forehead and we zoom off down the river. We arrive at a remote island in about an hour and soon everyone is gathered around to see what we are about. They are dressed in very worn clothing, look extremely poor but seem to be happy. Dick does his usual magic show and we take many poloroid photos to leave with them. A woman takes us to her home, a small hut perched on a mud bank of the river. I am surprised by how clean it is. It is spotless, really. We sit on the only piece of furniture in the room, a bed and talk for a while. They don't speak english at all, but we have a good conversation and we understood each other.

We go back outside and talk with the rest of the people. One of whom stands out as a grandfather type guy who looks to be nearly blind and walks with a stick for support. He was surrounded by children and seemed to be an important elder in the community. These islands were hit very hard by a cyclone that blew through a year ago and are still devastated. The sea water that covered the land has made it hard to grow any crops. I can't imagine what life must be like out there. So remote, surrounded by water and a long way from any sort of help or supplies. And this is just one of several hundred islands.

This area is also the largest Bengal Tiger preserve in the world. The tigers roam around and sometimes will attack a villager who has gone to too remote of an area to gather honey, which the islands are also famous for.

On the way back to the little village where we boarded the boat, we have a lovely Indian lunch and visit and take photos. It was a wonderful day that opened up all of our worlds in many ways.

Adventures in India - Part Deux

My friends arrive in Calcutta about 11 pm and I am there to greet them. Dick and Ann Grace from the Napa Valley and Gloria from Tennessee. We will spend the next 10 days traveling together and it turns out to be a magical wonderful time. Not that I ever had any doubt....

The next morning we meet bright and early for breakfast. It is a grand and glorious buffet of everything imaginable. Fresh fruit, yogurt, pastries, eggs, cereal, juice, salad, curry, fish and the list goes on. This is a fairytale land with hard cold reality waiting just outside the beautiful doors that are always being polished and opened for us.

 We get in the mini van with our guide Ashok and head for the Calcutta flower market. On the way, we see a festival happening along the banks of the Hoogley river and are told that wandering Sadus (holy men who give up everything and wander around in nothing but a loin cloth) and others come from all over India to do puja and pray. Dick asks Ashok to stop the car so we can get out and explore.

It is the first of many wonderful scenes that go like this:

Dick has a small flesh colored rubber thumb that fits over his own and has a red light in the tip. He walks up to a holy man who has probably walked for miles on this day, probably not had anything to eat or drink for days and doesn't know much about modern life. He says "hey, what's that in your ear?" and he reaches for the ear and pulls what looks like a red light out of it. As they look on in shock and wonder, he gently blows on the light and is disappears. Soon there is a huge crowd around, everyone smiling and laughing and yelling "Jadu! Jadu!" which means "magic" in Hindi.

Dick has a pocketful of magic (he doesn't like it to be called "trick". It's just magic) and he knows when and for how long to show them before moving on and leaving a happy crowd in his wake. It is a beautiful thing indeed.

At this point I should explain a little bit about Dick Grace. He is a winemaker from the Napa Valley and has long been a supporter of under-served people around the world. He makes yearly trips to Tibet, China, Nepal and India to look in on his projects. He is a hard core ex marine and runs a very tight ship. He can be very strict and while at the same time being one of the most kind human beings on the face of the planet. I met him in 2005 when I worked on his project in San Francisco, "Unsung Heroes of Compassion", like all others in Dick's orbit, my life has not been the same since. When he invited me to come to India with he and his wife, I did not hesitate before saying yes. I would go anywhere and do just about anything for this man. I learn so much from him and want to do the same kind of work. When I traveled to India last year, I volunteered and looked in on many of his projects in Asia, so I knew the people we would be meeting this time around.

Ann Grace is one of the most beautiful Graceful women I have ever met. Inside and out. She is kind and loving as she smiles as Dick takes center stage. She is Dean Martin to his Jerry Lewis. She is active and young for her 72 years. She laughs a lot and likes to be silly. She is as at home in a Tibetan monastery with no heat or plumbing as she is at a multi millionaire's home for dinner. They are as in love now as they were when they married 52 years ago. When they are not traveling somewhere, the two of them are out mountain biking, hiking, sking or taking care of their lovely gardens and vineyards. I am completely inspired by them.

Gloria Ghegan is an openly gay woman from Tennessee. I had not met her before but we were to become roomates and fast friends as we traveled together. She is a very neat and tidy woman who unpacks and organizes as soon as we get into the room, while my suitcase lays open like an explosion went off inside. She's down to earth and funny and spends time going on medical missions to places like Bhutan and Nepal. She has been nominated to become one of the next Unsung Heroes of Compassion.

After our walk along the river, we go to the Calcutta flower market, no far away. It's a bustling, busy place bursting with the color of a zillion blossoms that are used all around the city each day in offerings, weddings, cremations and celebrations. It was amazing.

We wind our way through narrow alleys and stalls filled with men and piles of flowers. Everyone stops to look at us strangers in their midst. This is definitely not a stop on the usual tourist route. Dick sprinkles magic and Polaroid camera photos along the way, picks up some flowers for us and we are on our way again. He stops outside the market where a small child holds a tiny baby in one arm and holds her other hand out begging for some rupies. Dick stops to talk with her and show her some magic. He takes a photo of her and the baby and leaves it with them and they are as happy as can be. It's a wonderful thing to watch.

Children at the flower market

Flower market

Dick and a sadu

Adventures in India - Part One

After a 6 hour flight that took me through Kuala Lumpur, I arrive in Calcutta. It had been almost one year exactly since I left. After being in peaceful, serene Bali for 2 months, I was feeling nervous about the transition but also excited to be in this special place again, amongst friends.

I collect my bag and walk through the dirty double glass doors into the smog and smoke filled afternoon. Calcutta slaps me in the face and kisses me on the mouth. I immediately connect with the smell and the sounds and am glad I'm here.

I look through the throng of dark faces holding signs and looking anxiously for their clients. The others swarm around me; "taxi madam? taxi?". Then the beaming faces of Krishna and Sanjeev are there. We happily hug each other and they lead me to the waiting car. We talk excitedly as we drive through the city.

Hundreds of yellow Ambassador taxis speed around us, beeping and bleating their taxi language. Ancient buses with people spilling out of doors and windows lumber past. The small auto rickshaws zip and bob and weave through everyone, spewing their noxious gasses, and barefoot rickshaw pullers sit lazily drinking tea and praying for customers. People are camped along the sidewalks cooking some small bit of food over a few sticks of burning wood or some dried cow dung.

There are SO many people. So many faces. Each with a name and a history and a family. It's mind blowing.

I feel a huge excitement growing inside me and I smile and talk and laugh with my companions. They fill me in on all that's been happening at New Light India in the last year. How the babies, Coco and Gouri are doing along with the rest of the kids and the girls at Soma Home. I can't wait to see them all.

I ask if we can stop for a chai. We pull off to the side in front of a crumbling tea stall and order our drinks. The afterwork crowd is there having an evening brew. Everyone stares and is so curious about this white faced girl on the streets of Calcutta.

The small brown terra cotta cup is handed to me and I take a whiff and then a sip. Ahhh...that is the taste of India for me. It is the perfect temperature and the perfect balance of tea, milk and sugar. It tastes like heaven and is the most comforting thing in the world. Chai is a ritual and is part of everyday life in India. I have drank hundreds of cups of it by now. When I finish, I drop my cup on the ground to join the piles of shards of brown pottery that used to be chai cups in a previous life.

We pile back in the car and head towards the Oberoi Grand Hotel. It is the nicest most luxurious hotel in town and I feel shy and a little embarrassed about staying there. I feel the need to explain that I wouldn't be staying there if it weren't for the invitation of my friend and hosts, Dick and Ann Grace. They have invited me to join them in India to tour some of the many projects they support and I am honored to accept.

I say goodbye to Krishna and Sanjeev for now and will see them tomorrow. I have about 5 hours before the rest of my traveling companions arrive, and I spend it walking through the streets, drinking more chai and reacquainting myself with Ma Calcutta. I feel comfortable and confidant as I walk (which comes a surprise to me) and no one bothers me, save for a few beggar children and men calling me to "just have a look" inside their shop.

I feel like I am walking on air. Filthy dirty disgusting air, but happy about it and have a huge smile on my face. I know this neighborhood and remember the good and the bad times I had here before.

India

Hello friends
I have been having a lot of problems with my blog so we'll see if this one goes.
I have been in India since January 7th. Arrived in Calcutta my beloved second home and met up with dick and ann grace and their friend gloria who I would travel with for the next 10 days. I had no idea what amazing magical things we about to transpire...