Chocolate meditation

The title of the blog says it all really...
Ever heard of it? Neither had I, until a few days ago but now I wish to share it with you all and I recommend you try it.
It is definitely the best meditation I've ever tried...

Here is the link... Either pre record yourself or have somebody read this out to you.

http://www.buddhafieldnorth.org.uk/kids-area/chocolate-meditation/

I am not joking.. You will never appreciate chocolate so much and you will never eat it the same again.
Tell me how you go...

Part time nurse, part time Bollywood dancer

Returning to Delhi for the third time, Hannah and I vowed to transform ourselves into delhi-ites, despite the upcoming Diwali festival that was coinciding for those days.

We managed to visit Connaught place, ride the Delhi metro and manoeuvre the train station with ease and confidence... Diwali, however, was a different story and after some expert advice from the locals we decided to enjoy the festivities from the safety of a rooftop restaurant. It was the most spectacular fireworks display I have ever seen and it was one of the most chaotic. On the street, children were dancing among fireworks while their parents mingled together, teenagers were setting off bombs amongst the oncoming traffic and the residential dogs of the main bazaar were going mental. As we dodged the stray fireworks that came shooting our way, I couldn't help but think that we should possibly be heading to the nearest Emergency department to lend a hand to the Indians that had lost theirs. It was like a happy war zone...that continued until 3AM!!!!

The other highlight of Delhi was the arrival of our friends from home, Hilary and Megan, turning our travelling duo into an epic wolf pack. As first timers to India we were unsure of what their reactions were going to be but as Hilary shimmied her way down the main bazaar exclaiming 'I f*#king love this!!!!!' and dodging cow poo, we knew it would be okay. It was interesting to see what the girls found hilarious and crazy in those first few days which we had come so immune to in the past couple of months.

Our first stop as a wolf pack was Pushkar for the annual camel festival. We arrived into the Ajmer train station and then had a one kilometre walk to the bus stand to catch a bus to Pushkar. Whilst walking through the middle of town, we encountered a dead man lying on the street with maggots coming out of his nose. It was disturbing for us but everyone else (well, the indian people) just ignored him as they walked past carrying out their daily lives. The impression I get, as a foreigner in India, is that life here seems so expendable and undervalued and it makes me quite sad. From the dead man on the street to the people who ride motorbikes with their infants and toddlers and no helmets. I am no good with words so I can't really describe how it makes me feel... But just sad. I value my life and everyone in it so much but the mindset here is, not the opposite, but different.

There is a lot of good though... Don't let me put you off!
For one, the camel festival. What a hoot! I had never seen a camel before and now I have seen hundreds. I mean it - Hundreds.
We rode camels, enjoyed desert sunsets via camel,held picnics on the back of camel carts, learnt the price of camels, watched camel hair cuts and camel nose piercings all the while declining the hoards of children wanting our money.
We also shopped. And shopped. And shopped.

However, my favourite part of Pushkar is yet to come...

And it has nothing to do with camels...

Or shopping..

But BOLLYWOOD DANCE CLASS!!! Dun-Duna-dun!
Not only was it the most exercise I have had in 2 months (and that includes the trek to base camp) but the moves were sassy, there was plenty of hip thrusting and it just so turns out, our teacher thinks we have what it takes to make it in Bollywood.
We danced to the slumdog millionaire soundtrack and have since been showing off our new choreographed moves to anyone who will watch...which is practically every indian we met.

Indian cooking class - tick
Bollywood dance class - tick
Is it time to party yet?

Spiritual Awakenings

25 October 
For the next eight days we are spending it in rishikesh - the yoga capital of the world. We have decided to call Shri sant sewa ashram our home where they offer yoga, massage and arranged marriages. Never fear, I'm not that desperate yet. 

We began our spiritual journey with a 0645 class of purification. It began with a little nose cleansing. We got mini jugs with spouts which we filled with warm water and poured into one nostril and let it drain out the other WITHOUT swallowing. It took a few swallows of water which he assured us was safe before we got some good flow coming out the other nostril. We then sat in a semi circle which consisted of me, Hannah and our young Nepalese yogi and did breathing exercises. 
Lastly, we chanted/sang. He sang his version and we sang our version but he wrote the lyrics out for tomorrow's purification so we can get it right.

We also went to beginners yoga which was quite uneventful except for when he made us try put our legs behind our head. Beginners luck? I don't think so. 

26 October 
On our second day of purification, we continued on with nose cleansing. I managed to pour a jug through each nostril like a professional but Hannah had a little more trouble getting it going. The yogi think she has become unbalanced since yesterday. How does he know about all the chocolate we were eating last night whilst watching gavin and stacey!! Awkward.
We then got to put little feeding tubes into our noses and down into our throats to clean our sinuses. My problem came when I had to pull the tube out through my mouth with my two fingers as I kept hitting the gag reflex. I was determined though so when the yogi offered to pull the tube from the back of my throat I told him to go wash his hands. He came back with two fingers looming so thought I would try one more time and... I grabbed it! Managed to play with it a little by pulling the two ends one at a time in a see-saw motion. 
On removal of the tube, my nose was all snotty and dripping and the yogi happily exclaimed that it was all the dirt I was harbouring. He was really doing the hard sell on daily sinus cleaning. 

Later that day, we decided to try laughing yoga. There was a lot of pretending to be lions and jumping around and singing/dancing of mantras. Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna! Krishna Krishna! Hare hare! It was funny and boy, did we laugh! 

27 October 
Today our yoga session was taught by Swami Yogananda Maharj Ji who is 105 years old!!! It was inspiring, interesting and he seemed like a top bloke as he stood before us in his jockeys. He could really move and then yelled at us as we were jogging on the spot 'FAST!!.............SUPER FAST!!!!!!'

Meditation was next on the list of things to try and we opted for a guided meditation class lasting 45 minutes. We sat comfortably on our mats and were told we couldn't move our legs for the entire class. Twenty minutes into the class when I was begging my mind to turn off, all I could think about was how sore my bottom leg was and how much I needed to move it. At one point, I thought I had gained enlightenment and felt myself hovering about my mat, no longer connected to the ground or my body. Sadly my bottom half had just gone numb and I was not experiencing my emancipation. For the last 20 minutes the pins and needles took over and my leg was cramping and searing. 
Switching your mind off is hard but sitting in one spot for 45 minutes is harder.. 

29th October
The good news is we have found a prefect little 'yoga for beginners' class taught by a spaghetti like indian called Baba who likes to try and twist us into all shapes and sizes. He tells us daily we are not flexible and need to be but his classes flow and he is constantly adjusting, helping and pushing us further with our yoga. We like him a lot, and we like the class. For me, yoga is a much better form of meditation and I'm feeling inspired. I want to be spaghetti, like baba. It only took him five years of daily practices so by my calculations... 4 years and 51 weeks to go!!

31st October 
Our spiritual journey has not ended but this blog entry has.. It concludes with the mother Ganga. The river flowing from the Himalayas, which then meanders through to Varanasi and out to the Bay of Bengal. The holiest river in the world. And potentially the most polluted. 
The last thing to do in the spiritual journey was simple really - do as the Indians do and take a swim in mother Ganga. In Rishikesh, it is not as polluted being so close to the mountains and the currents are so fast that everything gets washed away pretty quickly. I was accompanied by an Argentinian named Sebastian as Hannah was not so keen on the swim and 'at 25 is not going to give into the peer pressure' we were putting on her. It was refreshing and I dived under three times. Well, dived twice and fell on a slippery rock once. 
And as expected, we emerged from the Ganga with holiness radiating out our pores... Or something more sinister... 

Highlights of Punjab

We have entered the Punjab region for two days only but it is evidently clear when we arrive (by another painful bus experience) by the amount of turbans we begin to see.

The Sikh religion was founded in this region by Guru Nanak who was unimpressed with the main religions of India at the time. He believed in equality of all and campaigned against the caste system and unlike many indian holy men, he married and had children.

We are staying in Amritsar which is an ugly, dirty city with a beautiful attraction.. Like a diamond in the rough. That's my opinion anyway.. I would love to met somebody who thought differently of the city. I prefer Delhi.. Which is a big call to make.

The diamond in this case being the Sikh golden temple. A beautiful golden temple surrounded by a sacred pool and beautiful white buildings. The roof of the temple contains 750kg of gold!!
We went three times as recommended to see the temple lit in all ways - dawn, day and night.. But it was at dawn that we had the most fun.
We arrived with heads covered at 6am and promenaded once around the outer edge of the pool before lining up on the causeway to sneak a peek inside the temple. We gathered with the swarms of people pushing to get in and then morning prayers commenced and it was suddenly peaceful. There was a lot of simultaneous bowing by everyone on the causeway but Hannah and I - leaving us standing awkwardly amongst everyone, until we saw down with them to stop drawing awkward attention to ourselves. Once prays finished, everyone got up and the  pushy indian ways took over again.
Our timing is excellent.

One of the practices of showing equality is langar - where anybody despite religion, race or class in society can come and sit side-by-side and enjoy a free meal at a communal kitchen. After our prayers this is where we went and our timing again proved to be impeccable. There was a big crowd gathering around the communal kitchen which we assumed was normal so we joined the queue. Who wouldn't want free food!?

Suddenly, somebody came out and announced it's opening and suddenly the mad rush was on. Everybody was diving for metal plates and I, who had never seen anything like it, hung back a little and grabbed the back of Hannah's backpack as she took off for the plates. She turned and looked at me, saw my expression and with a huge grin said 'just like the London Underground babes'. What a woman!
A nice Sikh boy grabbed two plates for us and we took them gratefully... And then we were getting plates thrust at us from everywhere as people tried to help the white girls. We decided to wave our plates in the air so everyone knew as we pushed forward in the crowd. The same Sikh boy got us bowls and then spoons.

We followed the mosh pit into a dining room which was a massive room with two long, thin carpets in lines along the floor. We sat down cross legged beside our same young friend and got ready for our meal. I managed to relax a little after being freed from the stampeding, hungry, plate-wanting mob and began to love the situation we were in. Volunteers started coming around with steel buckets full of curry and slopping them on our plates and then somebody came and threw chapatis into our waiting hands. Dig in.

My favourite part of the breakfast, apart from ongoing offers of chapatis, was the water machine. It's hard to describe but it's pure simplicity and brilliance was incredible. It was a big water tank on a trolley with brakes. A waterboy pushed it along the rows and when he pressed the brakes, a nozzle lifted off a well placed tap at the bottom and water came out into our bowls. He did this up and down the rows and managed to entertain us throughout the whole meal. At one point, he was chatting on his cellphone whilst operating the machine. We both agreed that the kitchen ladies at CDHB would lose their marbles over such a machine.

The second pearl being the India-Pakistan border closing ceremony. We rode out there in a shared taxi for eight. The shared taxi translating to a normal sized jeep and eight translating to thirteen.  It was cosy but we got the front seats so we could observe that none of the dash board was functional. Neither were the seat belts but the driver made us pretend to wear them anyway.

It was my first time to a border and it did not disappoint. The patriotism was high and it is easily forgotten in a country so polluted and corrupt, so it was nice to be reminded. There was grown men sporting indian flag face paint, mini flags and little flag sun visors. There was popcorn and drink stalls and the bleachers were packed.. Oh yes. The ceremony is so big they have built stands on either country side to accommodate everyone. The Pakistan side was a lot less populated (possibly due to Ramadan) and the men and women were separated.

Before the ceremony started, the latest Bollywood hits played over the speakers and females from the bleachers ran onto the road to perform their latest dance moves. The uniforms of the border security team were beautiful, brown and red.

The ceremony began and there was a lot of build up. High kicks from the guards, a little fist pumping to Pakistan and a cheesy commentator who seemed like he belonged on a TV game show wearing a white track suit with an indian flag on the back. Finally the gates on both sides were open, there was a salute and the flags hung together to the background cheers of the audience. A show of present harmony against a very rocky history.

I then got diarrhoea, just in time for our night train to haridwar.
Of course.

An indian bus experience

I have often wondered since arriving in India why we keep putting ourselves in dangerous positions and often try to rank them to find the most dangerous. Walking down a road in Delhi, flying into Lukla, catching a bus, snaking the street in a tin rickshaw etc... They are all dangerous everywhere you go in the world I suppose but I feel the risk is much, much greater in this wonderful country.

And, I seriously think busing might be at the top. It has to be.

We arrived at the bus station early to reduce stress on ourselves before the 10hour bus ride to Manali ahead of us. We opt to take a 'deluxe' government bus as it is dirt cheap and always interesting.. And it's deluxe!
We find our bus easily because we're white and everyone wants to help the white girls. They show us our bus and we find the conductor who checks our pre-booked tickets and help us load our bags in the back. As we walk along the side of the bus to hop on we notice vomit dried to side of the bus on just under half of the windows. Always a good sign and very common.

We go off in search of breakfast while we wait for departure time and after paying 10rupees to use the most disgusting toilet in the world, we are satisfied with a delicious chai (currently ranked number 1 on our top3 chai list) and a parantha.
We board the bus and find our seats. The bus is dirty and even walking the aisle makes you want to shower. Our seats are right at the back and to our dismay the seat in front of one of ours is broken and in permanent recline mode invading our personal space. I go off to find the conductor and explain the situation. To my surprise, he tells us to take seats 9 and 10 - third from the front. Oh yeah! My seat in the window likes to spontaneously recline and then sit upright as it moves with the bus but apart from that, no complaints.
According to lonely planet 'ordinary buses tend to be ageing rattle traps while deluxe buses range from less decrepit versions of ordinary buses to...' Ours was obviously a less decrepit version.

We start our journey. It is a very vomit-inducing ride as we snake our way through the mountains. Do you think that slows the driver down? Heck no. As we turn around blind corners, we take up the whole road, but the driver sounds his horn before each corner to let oncoming traffic know where we are. I suppose it's a comfort that we are one of the biggest things on the road however when off the side is a massive cliff with no safety barriers it isn't really that reassuring. Out the window the scenery is spectacular however, so we try to focus on that for a while. I take some prophylactic anti nausea pills just in case.

We make our first toilet stop and Hannah points out the girl in the front row who has apparently been vomiting and doesn't look so flash. We check out the toilets.. Not really worth mentioning again. They're all the same. As we board the bus again, I notice the front windscreen has huge cracks all over the bottom and up on side. A comforting sign.. It has also started to rain.

There are no 'slow when wet' signs so we continue on at the same frightening pace. Ten minutes into part B of the journey, the girl Hannah pointed out now has her head out the window - looks like a bit of a meerkat though because while she vomits she has to keep an eye ahead and kept pulling her head in so that it wouldn't get knocked off by oncoming traffic and bushes.

Like clockwork she pulls her head in and the girl on our side of the bus in the front row sticks her head out. Hannah and I pride ourselves on having stomachs of steel after nursing general surgical but even we had to close our eyes for 5 minutes after vomiter 2 managed to splash our window two rows back. Ew.

We decide it's much easier just to keep our eyes closed and avoid seeing all near death driving and vomiting and manage to sleep until lunch.
In the afternoon, we stop at the a bus station for 15 minutes so some of the bus patrons get off. We stay boarded and eat a packet of lays and drink a thumbsup while being entertained/harassed by beggars and popcorn sellers who board the bus.

Our conductors change and we take off again. Five minutes down the road, the new conductor gets a phone call and we stop on the side of the road. Accidentally left four passengers behind who catch another bus and get back on. The Indians are all very excited by this turn of events and they are all talking with a lot of raged enthusiasm. The new conductor merely walks to the from cabin with the driver and closes the door separating the two and locks it. Problem solved. The Indians quiet eventually..

And lastly, when we think no more can occur. We are driving along the side of a big pass with a hefty drop below. We came across some stopped traffic so our driver snakes around the side onto the other side of the road to get past. There has been an accident (NO WONDER!) and the other cars are trying to get past also. This time, we don't have right of way so begin to reverse back up the road in a giant bus getting closer and closer to dropping to our death. The conductor is on board blowing his whistle to signal the driver directions and all the Indians are back on their feet excited by all the commotion. Some even get off the bus to go check out what's happening.

We. Are. Frazzled. But arrive safely yet again.
Is it luck? And when will it run out?
Or is it just that India pulses to its own beat?
One that we westerners are not accustom too. The organised chaos that seems to work... In most cases.

Either way, I feel the lonely planet doesn't really prepare you for what is going to happen so this is our uncut version.
Enjoy! X

Himachel Pradesh

Is anyone still there? It's been a while. We have been busy dodging everything India has thrown at us in the past two weeks. So far, we are coming out trumps. Well...were still alive and smiling.
Tummy bugs, bus rides from hell, train rides and odd concerts. Not to mention our daily fears of being hit by passing cars and rickshaws on the street.

Our first big stop in India was Manali but as we arrived on the end of peak season lots of places were closing down and it was all very quiet. Infact there wasn't much for us to do really except sit in Dylans cafe and eat the best chocolate chip cookies ever. In order to get them fresh out of the oven and gooey, we would visit 2-3 times per day. Ah home comforts!!

We also got to visit Solang Valley in the area and whilst there was no snow as this time, we could indulge in watching Indian holiday makers enjoying the summer activities - Paragliding, Zorbing, Horseriding, Extreme tramping and general wahoo'ing.

Leaving Manali was interesting as it involved a night bus - The bible AKA lonely planet had told us only to take the night bus as a LAST resort but it turned out to be just that so off we went - on our last resort. The driver was the nastiest little man who's anger showed in the way he drove. He abused Hannah for a good few minutes before then trying to kill us the rest of the night with his erratic driving. We watched him have the same argument with an Israeli couple (later, whom, became our new friends..). After downing the maximum dose of anti-nauseas I could safely close the window without fear of throwing up out of it but there was, of course, no chance of sleeping.

We arrived at a dark bus shelter at 4am, an hour before our ETA and when nobody got off the bus initially we again got abused and shouted out to get off the bus. Our bags were dumped and the bus took off.

No more night buses - Pact.

Mcleod Ganj. Lovely, relaxing Mcleod Ganj.

We have been here seven days now and are really feeling at one with the place. We recognize the local expats, other tourists, the usual beggars and even the odd monk.

Mcleod Ganj is home to the Dalai Lama in exile and a large number of Tibetan refugees. Its a hillside town brimming with culture, losses and hope. There are so many community projects here to help Tibet and Han and I really feel we have made a difference with the large amounts of money we have spent at the local shops and markets. The pack is ever filling.

On our first night, our Israeli counterparts took us to a local concert at the school showing traditional Tibetan dancing and much more. MUCH MORE is what we got and some would argue all we got. It was not the local school kids concert we were expecting but instead a one man concert which started with technical difficulties and ended in a song where with no explanation, the Tibetan performer went around the audience and completely invaded everyones personal space in a staring competition for about a minute. The background music to this was trance. Very traditional?

Today, we went to the fifth annual Tibet Film Festival at the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts (TIPA). After one of the movies about Tibet and what it was like to go back there, the director came out to see the crowd and answer questions. One young Buddhist monk stood up and asked a question in Tibeta. During his question, he began to cry but continued on with such deep sadness. It was so real and touching, despite not knowing what was being said and I think everybody in the room felt his grief.

The Chinese invasion has destroyed so many lives and so much culture and the people here are wearing that loss and burden every day. The last movie and finale of the film fest was The silence of the holy stones which was a nice but kind of odd Tibetan film about a young monk living in a monastery. Luckily for us, there was another monk seated behind us who sang along to all the songs and laughed enthusiastically to all the jokes that we managed to miss. Every joke.

India is forever pulling me in. 

I don't know that I will ever quit coming back here.

Statistics

Leaving Nepal so a statistical update...

 Statistics

Necklaces in situ: 3

Sunburn: 1

Bumwees: Uncountable.. but nil currently

Vomits:1

Lizard encounters: too many! 

Giant rocks climbed: 2 (counting the trek)

Marriage proposals: Still 0 - losing my touch. 

Planes: 9

Number of days without showering: 9

Number of Frisks leaving Kathmandu airport: 5 (including one very personal one)

We are back in India... and loving it. 

After spending last night on the floor of Delhi train station amongst Indian families all staring at us, rats, pooey smells, hair balls and homeless children trying to get our money, we eventually boarded a very late train to Kalka, and then the toy train to Shimla. 

We are back in the mountains and shaking off the last 24 hours with Kingfisher.

Getting excited for the next 7 weeks.