Last 2 written in India.

Kulkata has amazing water. I bought a shirt today with a peace sign on it, because orange is a color I never like to wear. Recently I acquired one stomach bug and spent many hours on the floor with a bucket. I sit down as unsure where this is going as where I am going and with as little worry. This city holds unto its crumbling builds in a way I don’t dare hang onto you. Maybe for fear of the same crumbling or perhaps because it’s beautiful to watch you fall. I have rented this room that feels more like a cocoon for me to rest in, to let all this settle in. To let you settle in. There are four more days left in this trip and then everything will be clean again. I will open my mouth in the shower and not do bug check before bed. No one will talk to me as I walk down the street and it is unlikely that a very poor young boy will buy me tea. There will be comfortable couches and situations that are easy to be kind in, I will again put on a seatbelt. I am so very happy to be going home, to arrive in America. My blessings are too many to mention the small kindness I receive everyday. At the Kali temple to day the Brahmin priest prayed for good jobs for my brothers, good health for my parents, and said there is a very good husband coming for me. (3/21/11)

I am in the airport now and in one hour will board my flight to Bangalore. My taxi ride was nothing short of perfect. Traffic here moves slowly and I was able to take it all in. This is my favorite Indian city and we drove through much of it tonight. My heart was bursting with gratitude and I just keep whispering thank you, thank you, thank you. She took me in and let me heal here for some time. I wonder sometimes about reincarnation and maybe if we all take turns. I made friends with some henna ladies, they called me sister and I them if felt very real. One of them kissed me on the check when I left and it was magic, I miss them already. I wonder if we take turns being the one on the street and the one with the visa card? If they teach me now and later I will be drawing with the henna? To have this time, to think about my life and what I want is a very special gift. I am happy to be going back to Michigan tomorrow and spend time with my family. I will drink from the tap and drive on the wrong side of the road, there are rumors of snow but this is too much to consider now. (3/25/11)

Shiva runs this town.

This morning I sat on the bank of the Ganga watching the burning ghat. My phone rang and it was a very dear very old friend. I sat and we talked. We spoke of fire, letting the burning bodies in, god, and apples. As I watched a new body being laid on the fire I felt the anxiety in my chest begin to soften. Our decisions are not so important.

Yesterday at brunch we talked about Ashtanga, Vipassana, and how physical pain makes us better- allows us to move through. We believed in that moment that nothing is an accident, that if we are open to it each experience each person has so much to teach us.

I have been wandering these alleys these tiny streets the way I hope to wander the inner workings of myself. To walk with open eyes, so much wonder and curiosity. Yesterday was magic, this morning has already shown me a new depth of suffering and the hope that lives just inside. I feel the moments when I push back when I run into myself more quickly now. The subtle becomes more obvious. “Don’t worry,” I said “I am taking it in for you”. He said he could feel it, feel the Divine Mother. I go now for some chai and then we are off to Sarnath.

Sarnath is where the Buddha gave his first speech after enlightenment, about 1 hour from my guesthouse. The burning ghat is directly next to my guesthouse. On my train here I had a dream about chocolate and when I woke a man walked by and said “Cadbury chocolate?” India also gives chocolate. Sitting beside the Ganga watching the bodies burn I feel very looked after, when you know how it ends its not so scary anymore.

Om Nama Shivia

" I was in Indonesia having sugery without anesthesia, really it was crazy" from stories over lunch today.

If you have a thing for grammar this will pain your heart and I do not recommend going further. There is much India English. It was all I could do to be in Benares and sit still long enough to type this, but it was a story that begged to be told. Purple Valley story to come next.

I left Purple Heaven at 4pm on the 13^th of March 2011. I was on the back of Lauren’s scooter while Benj rode next to us carrying my rucksack on his back. We arrived in Mapusa and did some very quick goodbyes. It was so hard for me to leave Lauren as she has been and is a vital ingredient in my daily life. I walked over to the small shop beside the bus station to recharge my Airtel sim card. The guy does the deal and as he calls it in my phone says sim registration failed, phone calls finished. I sprint over to the Airtel office, as forever I am early. She says I have broken my sim and need to buy a new one and it will work in 4 hours time. We do the paper work I pay and till this moment the new sim does not work. Phone finished.

I go back to the bus station and get on the Panjim express for 10 rupees, boredom arises from lack of texting. Also feeling a bit apprehensive as I have a waitlisted ticket from Mumbai to Varanasi. From Panjim I take the Margoa express and then a local bus to the train station. The train is lovely and in 3 AC I have a side birth upper confirmed and the man at the counter assures me by morning I will have a confirmed ticket out of Mumbai. I get on the train and have a restful sleep dreaming about Varanasi.

As I walk down the train platform in Mumbai heading toward the station a long haired tanned skin man approaches me and says I look like a oasis is the madness of Mumbai, I tell god she can not possibly be serious it is only 7:30 in the morning. Anthony is Quebecois and looking for coins for the children. Now there are many children following him who is now following me. He has not enough change so we stop at a food cart where he tells me “all gods children must eat” he has a point so I wait. This takes some time. After the children have eaten we walk through a field of garbage and over one half wall. On a dirt path there are some food stalls, we sit down at one place that it turns out literally has nothing and the man walks us to a friends place that has “clean and good” food. I order masala dosa and a chai. Anthony says the 18 rupee idly is too expensive and orders a chai. His idly promptly arrive and we begin to eat. He tells me of his future travels and meeting up with his girlfriend. Anthony asks to hold my hand, as I am so beautiful . I say I thought he had a girlfriend (after saying no) and he says “yes but why should I limit myself why not be free”. I believe there are many good reasons to limit oneself --seeing freedom very differently. We walk back to the station so I can begin to investigate my ticket situation. Anthony asks to come, with a soft smile and one Namaste I leave him outside the station.

I find a window not in the ticket area marked enquiry, so I wait to speak to the man behind the glass with the microphone. When we decide it’s my turn he says “hello” this is a good sign. I pass him through my ticket that is waitlist #3 for 2teir AC. He punches some numbers in his computer and tells me the chart has not been made yet, I am still #3, we can not know more till the chart is made at 10:30. I walk around the station a bit and find a ladies waiting room where I read my book. At ten I go back to enquire and the man checks again and it has not been made. I wonder for a bit and he sees me through the glass and says over the mic “still not yet”. I go back to the waiting room and there is one Swiss girl looking for someone who speaks English. She is looking for reassurance that she is at the correct station for her train, I look over her ticket and tell her yes. I am happy to see that after being in India only a week she knows that you have to ask many people many times before believing you are where they say you are. After hearing how long I have been in India she wants to know why Indian man ask her the questions they do. So we have the Indian men talk they way your parents are meant to have the sex talk with you when you are young, some of the same results come from the lack of information. She wants to know why they all talk to her about sex and I say that it’s because she talks to them at all. I don’t even look them in the eye unless they are at work and I need their services but otherwise no communication, it’s cultural I say. She seems relieved that there is some solution to her problem even if it is silence, I think this is the solution to many “problems”.

This time I decide to go to the proper line #7 to see about my ticket and there is a long Q but one man motions for me to walk to the front of the line, this I do. One unkind looking women behind the counter takes my ticket, looks it up, and writes WL3 on it and hands it back, very bad sign. Back to enquire window. He looks it up and says the chart has been made and I did not get a place, he is not happy about this either. Enquire tells me I can go general class, meaning with out a seat at all for 27 hours to the place that everyone hopes to be when they die. Not a great option, either is flying. To fly would be very expensive and require a night in Mumbai and more taxies, not happening. Enquire tells me to go to the head ticket collectors office. This man says he loves America but cannot get me a place. If I had a phone this would have been when I called Lauren and asked what to do, but I told god I wanted to be alone and alone I am. Back to Enquire with some small tears in my eyes as I tell him no luck with HTCO. He tells me to wait 5 min, so I stand off to the side as he leaves his counter much to dismay of the sea of Indians waiting to be directed around. He rush back and tells me to come in the office. I walk around the side to the 3 police with large guns and say I need to go in, they decided this is OK. I find Enquire’s window, walk up behind him, and see that he is booking me some kind of ticket, we must hurry he says “it’s the last one”. I now have a ticket for 3 AC for the first 7 hours of my 27-hour journey. From that point on he books me a ticket in sleeper class where I am waitlist #197, it will get you on the train he says. After 7:30pm show my ticket to the collector and see what he says, not a great plan exactly buy it will get me the hell out of Mumbai. None of this was his job or concern but he got me started toward Benares as they were all calling it, the old name for Varanasi. Back to the ladies waiting area till 12:15 when I board the train.

I find carriage B1 and I think seat/bed 28. I put my backpack (bp) on the top and sit down with 2 Indian ladies who I find out later are sisters. One is already in love with me (Sukhwant) and the other likes me well enough (Pirtam). One Indian man dressed well carrying a laptop which when we come back to him later he is watching a movie on. There are a few other people in this area one man in particular who seems very in love with his wife and traveling also with a brother cousin or two. I buy a veg/rice meal and the sisters begin to unpack their lunch which looks amazing. Sukhwant who loves me gives me some mango pickle and a chapatti, the best I have ever had. I finish my meal and the one ticket collector (this man is never seen again) comes around checks our tickets, I shown him both of mine. He tells me my seat in the next area over and that at 7:30 when my first ticket runs out I can come back to this seat. I say to him, the sisters, and everyone else “I can come back right here at 7:30” they all say yes and smile, I believe this to be impossible but choose for now to go sleep in my bed as no one knows what this coming night will bring.

I stay in my bed till 8pm when young slightly angry ticket collector (YSATC from now on) asks to see my ticket. YSATC tells me to go away so I tell him what the first ticket man said, he is not believing me. He takes me to the next car to see older very angry ticket collector (OVATC from now on) who was not happy to see me. OVATC tells me I must go now to sleeper class, but I know I am waitlisted there and may end up in a worse situation. I ask if I can pay some any rupees to stay and get a firm NO. He sends me away with YSATC to make sure I exit AC class. I go back to my friends as my bp is still there. I tell Sukhwant that they are making me leave and there is much sadness on my face, she smiles, pats the seat beside her, and tells me to sit down. I say no this man is yelling at me and I must go, Laptop says to sit as does most everyone in the carriage. What can I do? YSATC comes looking for me and I look at the floor while he and Laptop, the sisters, and everyone one else go back and forth in Hindi. YSATC goes away and comes back. He and Laptop talk and I can understand “AC, waitlist, & rupees”. YSATC goes away and comes back. Laptop says I need to pay 700 rupees that I gladly hand over. YSATC goes away and comes back. He and Laptop go back and forth and Sukhwant gets her ticket out and gives it to YSATC who goes and comes back. Now Laptop exits with him only to return with my 700 rupees and a frown. He gives me back my money and tells me to climb to the top bed and hide, they will close the curtain. Before this can happen though Sukhwant calls her son in Mumbai for me to talk with and to whom I may have agreed to marry. I say, “Please I will go to sleeper” a firm no from everyone leads me to climb up, I put my lungi over my head and hope the yelling is finished. Sukhwant asks if I am hungry and I say yes, allowing yet another need to be met, she hands up 2 chapti with some allo gobi and dates for desert. She tells me it is from god and I eat under my cloth. Laptop asks me for 100 rupees which he gives to YSATC and I wonder if this has bought me enough freedom to go to the loo but decide it must be better to just go to sleep.

Around midnight I get a good shaking of the foot but buy the time I come to it has finished, looking back now I think this was a warning shake from YSATC. A few moments later there is a much firmer foot shaking along with some pretty pissed off shouting from OVATC, I am not sure there has every been anyone less pleased to see me in my life. He is telling me to get out of his class NOW, here enters one very official looking ticket collector. This new man, never to be seen again, says that the person assigned to this bed is coming aboard the train. We all know this is not true and the man in love with his wife tells him that it is his bed and he has given it to me, he is sharing now one bed with his wife. New man says nothing, YSATC says nothing, and OVATC shouts at me to GET OUT NOW! I begin to pack my things when Laptop looks up at me and asks where I am going, to sleeper class I say. Laptop says to got back to sleep and leave in the morning, everyone agrees and we all go back to sleep.

I wake up about 6 and have no choice but to try my karma and go to the loo. After I finish I open the door and there are 4 policemen with big guns staring at me, again some sadness on my face. I stand looking at them, they looking at me, no one seems to be sure about what happens nesxt, so I offer them the bathroom. With nothing left to lose I walk through them and back to me friends, Laptop left at 4am. Here again I try to leave but the sisters will hear none of it and buy me a chai. We eat some cookies, drink our tea, and laugh until I cry. I am very happy to leave this area when the sisters get off at 8am, but I still have a few friends around who will not let this happen. 8 hours to go and I am still a refugee in AC class.

Last and new ticket man comes around to check everyone’s ticket. I had him my sleeper waitlist ticket and he tells me to go to that car. Not asking how I ended up where he has food me. “Sir I have one small sadness, may I please pay some rupees and stay here till Benares”, everyone in the train car is watching to see what happens. He looks over his charts and books many times before telling me YES that for 265 rupees he can give me B-1 30 from the next stop all the way to Benares. Everyone smiles, and I am legit for the first time in what feels like a very very long time.

46 hours after leaving Goa I arrive in Benares.

Believe me when I tell you this is the short version of the story. My journal version would have taken many more pages but I type slowly and you have things to do.

I tell myself that if I am needless I will be loved. India tells me if I have needs then others have the chance to show love to me. I say that if I rock the boat they will leave me, they will not let me stay. India tells me that true love and true friendship require me to be just who I am.

Thank you India.

I love you, so much love to all of you.