Sweetness in the Belly

I spent today online downloading travel documents and buying supplies in Delhi for my trip to Egypt tomorrow. It's funny - I feel so at home in India that I want to make sure I transact all of my e-business and purchase of toiletries here. Chances are Egypt is every bit as e-resourceful and western consumer oriented. But, one never knows until one goes. All I know is that I really like India. A lot. Things continue to unfurl in a lyrical wave of motion and movement: unbroken wholeness in flowing movement, indeed!
So, a while ago, friends from Leh who owned La Pizzeria offered me a free beach shack if I'd teach yoga at their new resort/restaurant in Mandrem Beach, Goa. I said maybe, but thought not, b/c I imagined Goa to be a party place. Then, I looked into it and found it to be idyllic, peaceful and beautiful. I have really been missing the water in my travels. I also miss a rigorous yoga routine and want to study a bit more. What do you know? I looked at the only yoga school near Mandrem and they have a teacher training course from 10/19-11/16 and it's vinyasa, ashtanga, dancing, creative arts, bhakti...in short, all the stuff I love - on the beach! So, I applied with a hopeful wish and a chant to Ganesh and whoopdeedoo I was offered the last slot - a walk in slot - that is perfect for me b/c I'll live in the beach shack nearby. Kismet coalesces again! (BTW, my spelling skills are clearly atrophying as I can't remember how to spell "coalesce," but you know what I mean...) Thank you, India! The teacher training url is here:
http://www.yogagoaindia.com/yoga_teacher_training.php
On either 10/18 or hopefully 10/17, I fly straight from Cairo to Bombay to Goa to make it in time. Phew! I'm really looking forward to a dedicated practice again. I wanted one more teachers training or a serious ashram stint to conclude the India tour. Now it will be complete and blissful. That is the future. Now, back to the past: Rajastan - also complete and blissful.

We left rainy Mt. Abu and headed for Jodhpur. I wanted to skip this city. I'm glad I didn't. I stayed at Yogi's guest house. Yogi is a young Indian guy who lived two years in San Francisco. We have a bunch of mutual friends - my international party pals of whom Ben, the DJ inBangkok who I first stayed with on this journey, is a part. Small world. Yogi explained that he has an entire warehouse full of Rajastani furniture in CA waiting to be sold. Throughout Rajastan, I've repeatedly found myself saying "perhaps I should become a buyer or an interior designer, specializing in India and Mughal design" b/c I take pictures like crazy of color combinations, architectural detail and rich tapestries by the hundred. The stuff just fascinates me. As if I had a light on my head indicating the same, one out of every three shopkeepers or hoteliers would ask me if I was in the design business. Of course, they all thought I was french, too, but that only adds to this fantasy, right? Anyway, when Yogi said this and further explained that his friend in CA is a trusted friend who has handled the matter thus far, but works too hard as an engineer, my interest prongs went up. I postponed my departure from Jodphur for a few hours so I could see his warehouse. The furniture is unique, beautiful, distinctive, custom designed and cheap! This is a real possibility. Yogi also took me to Maharani something-or-other that makes textiles and fabrics. They create fabrics used by Hermes, Versace, etc. and they are gorgeous! I splurged on a silver and golden woven tapestry made in the 17C Mughal style that reminds me of Klimt's 'The Kiss' and wanted to swim in the gorgeous miles and miles of fabric! Now, I have two very solid contacts if I do this business. An interesting prospect, indeed.

We drove through Jaisalmer, stopping at a lovely palace on the water, and on to Sam Desert National Park in time for sunset. We settled into one of the luxury tent villages and for 1800 rupees (I usually pay 300 rupees max for a room), I got two camel rides (sunset and sunrise), dinner, a cultural performance, a tent w/toilet and shower (bucket water) and breakfast. The best deal I could find.

I invited Kalyan to hop on the back of the camel for the sunset ride and he was elated as this was his first time. He was terrified and made little sounds the entire time. He's very funny! We hopped off atop a sand dune and the gypsy dancers who were following us did a song and dance on the dunes as the sun set behind them. The dunes were small, but lovely. Tourists had spilled out on camels by the busload, so the place was crowded with tourists, gypsies, camels and muslim camel riders in turbans and long flowing white garments. There were also beatles and the little tracks they made across the sand were every bit as intricate and decadent as the mughal motifs adorning the palaces of Rajastan.

We returned for tea and dinner, after which the resident Gypsy troupe of three sisters did a dance replete with spinning, clanging bells, dark eyes, brilliant uniforms and graceful moves including brass bowls balancing on one beautiful lady's head, walking on nails and hopping along inside a bowl with said brass bowls balancing on her head. The muslim band sang and played traditional instruments. I was the only westerner at the camp along with two Indian families who looked at me with pity in their eyes as I sat for the performance. Shortly after the performance began, a group of young, hipsters joined the group - they looked Italian in style, but they were Indian. The young daughter of one of the families pulled my hand up to dance with her and the gypsies in the usual touristish bit where the audience dances with the performers. She said during a graceful turn: "that man is a famous bollywood actor - he's on tv." They were all joining us as we danced around the fire. Their moves were good - typical Bollywood. You ever know what can happen in India. Dancing with Bollywood and gypsies around a desert camp? Who knew?

After dinner, I asked if they were from Bombay and asked for suggestions as to where to go. Asif Basra, the actor, gave me his e-mail and cell phone number and an invitation to explore the set with him to see what a day was like. "You can even perhaps get a small part if you're interested," he said. Perhaps. The rest of his pals wrote their cell phone numbers after I told them that I loved Royal Enfields and rode on the back of one across Nepal and throughout Leh. They have a bike club, you see...it's an Enfield thing. They immediately to tout me around Bombay on their bikes when I arrive. I feel very fortunate to have a band of Bollywood crew ready to roll when I hit Bombay. Perhaps the film will roll, too. Asif made a file about a westerner travelling in India, a love story of India, called "Outsourced." I'd like to see it. The gents left to their camp in the dunes and I pulled my bed out of the stifling tent under the stars for a sweet, desert sleep.
The next morning, I went for the sunrise camel safari. It was peaceful and calm and quiet. There was only one other camel out on the dunes. I was alone with the young camel driver. We ran through the dunes for quite some time and spotted a deer. I felt bad for the guy, as this was his only income and he was sweet and innocent. I tipped him 500 rupees just b/c I felt like being very, very generous. The look on his face was priceless - he was beyond thrilled. As soon as we returned to camp, he ran to the others and told them.

Shortly thereafter, the owner, Karim, shouted to me on his way out: "Kyra, you are family now. You have made my cousin very happy. We hope you do not leave. Stay here as my guest, pay what you'd like. And I said "300 rupees?" to which he responded "yes, please stay with us." "You are family." So, I decided to stay another night and see what life in the desert was like. It was hot and boring. The resident gypsies came out of their tents and they tried to show me how to balance the bowls on my head - useless. I braided the youngest gypsy's (about 11 years old) hair and then the beautiful leader asked me to braid hers, too. Kalu, the owner's younger brother (a little older than me), invited me to go to the larger sand dunes about 5 kms away on his motorcyle. I suggested that we take the three gypsy women and Kalu in the a/c car instead. We did. The gypsies and Kalyan sat under the shade of a bush while Kalyan and I walked to the highest dune and chatted in the sun. I covered my head with a scarf and felt very muslim. He told me that he had many western friends and I was like a man to him - part of the family - and not to worry - he could be trusted. Okay. I said I was hot, he stood up and beckoned to me "Come!" and I felt even more muslim as I followed behind him back to the car. When we returned to camp, Karim was there. He professed his undying love to me and asked that I stay as his wife. I politely declined. I later confirmed with Kalyan that Kalyan would sleep somewhere close to my tent. Kalu offered to show me a woman's life (I'd previously said I wanted to know where the women were in India as I never interact with them) and took me to the tent village next door. The women were constructing a wall and we cooed as we petted eachother's clothes and looked at nails, jewelry and eyes. They braided my hair. They asked for chocolate. What woman anywhere in the world doesn't love chocolate? A common bond.

That night, the gypsy girl came to my tent and pulled my hand to her tent. They were getting ready for the night's festivities and put gypsy makeup on me, including kohl eyeliner and glitter. It reminded me of Burning man. We were giggling and having lots of fun being girly and glitzy. They selected an outfit from my comparatively dull wardrobe and cooed as I left for the sand dunes. In the dunes, the Indian men stared at me and the gypsies from the previous night squealed and hugged me in delight as they exclaimed in their native tongue while looking at my sparkling face and dark eyes. We walked to a high dune and were entertained again by another troupe of gypsies. That night, dozens of Indian executives were hamming it up while the gypsies were dancing. The party went on all night. Kalu took us out to the dunes and we slept there. Kalu left and picked us up in the morning. He was angry at Kalyan for sleeping out there with me b/c he wanted to stay with me. Kalyan told him he had no respect. I didn't hear any of this until later. I'm so glad Kalyan was with me. The sand dunes were quiet and lovely - it was very calm and sandy to wake up at sunset and there were little tiny fox footprints next to my head in the sand. I gave the gypsies some clothes, a bra, bubbles and blistex. They gave me a set of colorful bindis and a barrett. The whole camp lined up outside the car as we left and waved until we were out of sight. Both Karim and Kalu have since called me and expressed "I want you." Thank God Kalyan was with me!

We passed through Jaisalmer and I took a tour of the city with another scam artist commission tour guide while Kalyan relaxed in the car. I had Mueslix at a restaurant that was actually puffed rice. When I pointed out that this wasn't mueslix, he said "it's jaisalmer mueslix" - touche. That's what I get for bringing my western notions to India. Good remider. We drove on to Bikaner that night. We saw the fort swelling with Bikaner pride, had a thali, then visited a Disneyized temple with a giant lion's mouth opening up to a giant Ganesh. On either side of the lion's head was a Kali figure and a Hanuman figure. It was just there - on the side of the road - giant cartoon deities larger than life. India is crazy and full of surprises!
That night, a fierce wind and rain storm blew trees across the road as we drove to Mandawa. Of course Kalyan, who stops for chipmunks, stopped the car until it was welll past. Although he's a gentlemen, Kalyan belches openly b/c all men in India do - they never say excuse me and I never get used to it. On our way, we saw two foxes, a herd of deer and two peacocks. A little safari. That night we arrived in the haveli-filled town of Mandawa. The hotel was filled with construction workers who were erecting a Bollywood set for a film to be shot the following month. I was surrounded by men in the lobby and felt just a little bit the minority in color, culture and gender. Whatever. I went to my room and didn't come back out until morning.

The next day, the tour guide touted the cleanliness of Mandawa (due to a small population) as he threw a candy wrapper onto the littered road and spat thereon. He and Kalyan shared a love of singing and during lunch, I heard many a bollywood tune with wagging heads and swooning eyes. This guide spoke six languages - he was very smart - yet he bragged about how good looking he was and how tough he and his friends were as he grabbed his groin and spat. Charming. We visited a school of darling children. We sang the Gayatri Mantra together and I taught them 'The Morning Song' from my preschool days. On the roof, the headmaster pulled a branch off the Neem tree and showed me how to brush my teeth. It was sour, but he promised it would get better after 10 days. I donated another 500 rupees to this destitute school filled with bright minds and a charming headmaster. Not your typical city tour. I liked it. We saw a palmist in one place who told me I should've married at 30, but that just means when I do marry, it will last longer (20 years, to be precise - then he'll divorce or die) and I will marry very soon (to a man who wears something other than a watch on his left wrist). He also told me I will become more genuine in personality and consciousness now. Good news on both fronts. I'm ready. A circus girl on a tightrope picked her nose as she performed (everyone picks there nose here - even when chatting with buddies). I explored several private havelis and hotels and took many, many photos b/c I just loved the color, architecture and design. This really may be a new career for me.

That night, we changed hotels and I splurged on a super romantic Maharani (queen) room that was painted with royal scenes of princesses and queens in nature and at court in golds and reds. It was opulent and splendid and super romantic. Of course, I was alone. I wanted to get away from the swarming men of the other hotel. But, I felt like celebrating my femininity and treating myself to something nice and romantic. The room was so beautiful that it took my breath away. Very special. At dinner, I explained a little to Kalyan about my liberal lifestyle as a teenager and he was utterly shocked. He is very innocent. I realized how much of myself I gave away or numbed without any feeling or consideration for the person that I was. It made me a bit sad. I thought perhaps India has a better way by preserving one's virtue and innocence until marriage. There's something very real about it. Then again, my life has been fun, although not too meaningful or full of self-respect. I woke up feeling anxious and lonely. Then I reminded myself of how fortunate I was to be here at all - even if alone - perhaps fortunate b/c I was alone. Whatever. However. It's beautiful to be me. Here. Now. And I'm grateful.

We left the next morning for Jaipur. Kalyan played my favorite Indian morning song - Jai Ram - and I swooned as we passed farmers in bright saris and turbans with their animals living so calmly in this beautiful land. I love India. We passed a camel fair and I asked Kalya to stop. We walked in and explored the fair. It was the last day of one week where 10,000 camels, yaks, cows and (some) horses had been sold. A vendor showed me the camel nose rings he had for sale; another the bells he had for sale; another man invited me to see his camels and take a photo of him preparing his lunch. I did. I was surrounded by men in the camel industry. I saw only two other women present during the fair. We had chai, tried some pakoras and generally relaxed and shot photos with the people there. It was very calm. I got used to men just staring and following wherever I go. It didn't bother me. One of the men asked if I wanted a ride on his camel cart. We got on and after circling the entire area, he dropped us off at the road where our car was. We shot more photos and he shot me the hugest smile this side of the Indus. It was very sweet. Only in India.

We returned to Jaipur and Kalyan was elated b/c he was so close to home. His singing and dancing increased. He danced like mad with the gypsies and the executive Indian men in Sam Desert. He's quite talented. He's been offered a spot on the "Explore India" tour in Russia for his Rajastani singing and animal sounds. I hope the tour will make it to CA someday. I told him he always has me as his sister there to show him around. I mean it. He's a really special guy. I'm very lucky to have had such a person as a guide, bodyguard, driver, entertainer, spiritual cohort and friend. Thank you, India! After errands including the post office and the bank, we made it to Tiger Fort (a palace fort built for nine queens - very feminine) for a final tour and the sunset with a beer. It was a lovely way to say goodbye to Rajastan and to Kalyan.

The next day, I saw the Wind Palace, Hawa Mahal and did a little bangle and pashmina shopping. The shopkeeper, Ajay, gave me incredible deals and offered me gifts, lunch, a movie, etc. He wants to meet me when I return from Egypt. I asked what for. He said friendship. Friendship here means being lovers. I'm not interested. I told him that. He was very persistent and very sweet. I accepted his gifts of a free scarf and a leh of fragrant flowers. Then, I left as he swooned. This place is full of die-hard romantics.

I ate a giant thali just before getting on the train and stocked up on water, bananas and chocolate for the journey. I was full as a tick. Little did I realize that my first class ticket included food and drink service (including veg thali, bananas, chocolate, water, plus, plus, plus) - none of which I could eat. I took stuff I could save and put it in my purse to give to pour people. I'm sure the Indian man next to me thought I was a kook. Whatever. When we stopped at a station, it was littered with people lying on the platform. I almost threw my food to the people, but realized they were simply waiting for the train. They weren't homeless. Sometimes, it's hard to tell. It just goes to show how culturally insensitive I can still be even though I've been here for a while. I have been relatively isolated and protected with Kalyan, even though I was often the only westerner around. Now, I'm back to being solo and immersed in India (see today's blog about my visit to the toilet museum). It's sweet as can be and my whole self is filled with gratitude and the chaos, romance and surprises of India. A book I once read called love "sweetness in the belly." I can honestly then say that I love India.
My solo love affair with India will have to wait until November, however. I fly to Egypt tomorrow for one week on the beach and then join a two week tour. Something about Egypt calls me. I don't know why. I'll return to India 10/17 or 10/18 then rush down to Goa for a month long teacher's training. Then....??? I'd really like to see my old highschool cohort Freeman who lives in Pune now. Why did he move here? Does he have that sweetness in the belly, too? Why? The plot continues to unfurl...