DANIEL WHERE IS? डैनिएल कहाँ है?

2012-02-25T21:06:00.037-08:00

WHERE: VARANASI, UTTAR PRADESH, INDIA

Varanasi or Benares (or Kashi) is said to be the oldest continuously inhabited city on Earth, and is situated on the banks of the Ganges where it meets the Varuna and Assi rivers. It is literally indescribable, but I will say that it is the epitome of India. It is considered the holiest place in India, as Shiva himself founded the city. Hindus from all over come here to bathe in the Ganges, visit the holy temples, and most importantly to die/be cremated here.

The city is known by its ghats (the steps on the river bank) on which people bathe, sadhus meditate and smoke ganga, tourists take boat rides, and everyone gathers in the evening to play music and do aarti. The energy here is like nowhere on earth. The city is constantly moving, every inch of it teeming with life. The architecture spans hundreds of years and is all smashed together in narrow alleyways filled with people, shops, cows, dogs, feces, flowers, incense, wedding parades, death parades, monkeys, kites, etc. As you walk through the alleys you inevitably become lost, though this seems to be the best way to see the city and the way of life for those who live here.

poha and sathua for sale, the sand on the right is used to roast chickpeas which are commonly given as prasaad

Through my travels in India I have lost the 'tourist spirit' for seeing temples and holy spots, which Varanasi is full of. What has kept me inspired and excited has been exploring the culinary wonders of each place in India, which Varanasi is also very full of. Vyasa exclaimed, “Who would not live in Kashi where one can get both delicious food and liberation?” after being fed by Parvati in Kashi. It is the Indian legend that to die in Benares guarantees freedom from the cycle of birth and death; an eternal reunion with the Divine. So yes, why not enjoy the most delicious food on Earth while you are here?!

Though I don't plan on dying whilst here, I have been sampling all of the finest foods Varanasi has to offer. This city is famous for chaat, with some specialties being kachori, aloo tikki cholle, and papdi chaat as well as for a large variety of dairy specialties such as thandai, lassi, nimis/malaiyyo, rabri, paneer, and sweets. One of my first meals was at a restaurant near Dasaswamedh Ghat where we were led upstairs to the dining hall. We had to tilt our heads to get to our table, and from where we sat we could see the guys cranking out the goodness.
We ordered the poori-sabji plate, which came with some jalebi and sweet thin chutney:
Then we finished it off with a badaam lassi (almond-yogurt drink):

We spent the day wandering around the old city, winding through alleyways and in the afternoon eventually made our way to a famous spot called Blue Lassi Shop near the Kashi Vishwanath Mandir (a temple, inside of which non-Hindus/foreigners are not allowed).

AJ's friend Amalia ordered the pomegranate lassi and I had the masala (which is not sweet but salty and spiced):

fresh yogurt

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That evening I dragged everyone on a quest to the legendary Deena Chaat where we sampled a lot of dishes that looked similar but had unique flavors:

paalak pakora, topped with sweet yogurt, tamarind chutney, radish and cilantro

papdi chaat; couldn't indentify everything in here but it was lovely

golguppa dahi, similar to the sev-dahi-puri in Pune but the yogurt was in the pooris here.

khasta kachori cholla: crispy daal filled pastries over a bed of masala chickpeas, topped with yogurt, tamarind, radish and cilantro

The following morning I continued my quest for deliciousness, making my way to Thatheri Bazaar to find place called Sri Ram Bhandar. It was closed at the time, so I headed down the street and found a busy kachoriwalla and had some breakfast. The kachori was deliciously crisp on the outside and pillowy within, and the black chickpea stew it was served with was so delicately spiced I could not believe this little shop was cranking it out. It was topped of with a dollop of sweet tamarind chutney that launched it into a whole new level:

kachori walla in Thatheri Bazaar

Then I made my way to the legendary Markandeya in Chowkambha, just a little walk from Thatheri Bazaar. Its a small, blue doorway with no sign, near the Gopal Mandir.

I read about it from an article I saw on an airplane from Dehradun to Chennai and have been salivating ever since. The shop makes nimis, which is the result of leaving heavy cream and some milk out overnight to collect dew, then slow-boiling it in the morning with and saffron. Its then sprinkled with almonds and pistacios. The result is a light, puffy, and delectable fluff which is sold in kulhars (sun-dried clay cups) for RS 10.

The shopkeeper told me they get up at 4am to start boiling away:

Refilling the pot with fresh nimis and milk:

We took a boat on the Ganges that evening, and started our being paddled around by this little kid. Eventually his brother took over and we had a nice peaceful ride along the ghats. AJ got this sweet video with her waterproof camera:

His brother took over after a while and we had a nice ride on the river watching night fall over the holy city. We got off at Shivala Ghat to check out a restaurant called Zaika, but it seemed like a flop so we didn't order. Down the road we got raj kachori at Bikanervala:

After that we went to find Atul's rabri shop near Dasaswamedh ghat. Rabri is milk that has been cooked slowly and thickened, then sweetened and spiced with a little cardamom. Atul's is considered the best in the city and it was quite good:

That night we went to Manikarnika Ghat, which is the main ghat for cremating bodies. A fire has been kept there for thousands of years, from which each burning is started. As we arrived one of the fires had a head sticking out, engulfed in flames. People were standing around going about life as usual, talking on the phone and chewing gutka. (no one takes pictures though, as it is prohibited). We were able to go right up next to the fires, where I sat next to a man as we watched his Uncle's body be brought, unwrapped, encircled with the flame, sprinkled with some powders and ghee, and then ignited.

As we sat watching the bodies burn there was not a feeling of gloom or morbidity in the air, but a strange sense of normality. I thought of the clay kulhar, the cups used once for a chai or snack then tossed onto the street only to turn back into dirt. I felt the same mentality about death here. Sure there was the whole ceremonial aspect but it seemed that everyone knew that it was about the juice all along, not the cup. Vishnu Dass mentioned to me that watching bodies burn at the ghats would rid me of a fear of death. I pictured that happening in a such a way that I would be so overwhelmed by the sight of death that I became sort of numbed to it. Instead it happened in such a way that by seeing death as an everyday experience it became as normal as waking up or going to sleep.

I think this again can be attributed in some way to the lack of privacy in India and how everything is out in the open. I t seems to be a sort of 'Western' mentality to pretend like everything is okay until its time to die at which point there is this whole stigma around death as being wrong and bad. I think Hindus grieve unexpected sudden deaths of children and pregnant women just as we do, and their bodies are not burned but put into the Ganges with weights. But as for an older person dying of this or that cause it is treated just as normal as the clay cup having finished its purpose and needing to be disposed of.

Plus, the Hindus believe that this process happens innumerable times over the vast span of infinite life so there is no reason to get hung up over it.

I'll be in Varanasi for another day, then I'm headed to Dehradun. While there I will be volunteering at Vandana Shiva's Bija Vidyapeeth, an organic farm dedicated to saving the seeds of heirloom varieties of grains, rice, and vegetables. They have a holi festival there using only naturally made colors which will be a nice way to celebrate. More on the farm later, but for my last day in Varanasi I'm going to go see Lahiri Mahasaya's home and try Kehsav's famous Paan in Lanka.

ek choti galti

2012-02-21T02:49:00.019-08:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

Ek choti galti. One little mistake.

I missed my train to Varanasi. I was an hour late, because I read the time on my ticket as 8:30 instead of 7:30. It was in the 24-hr military time, which I am not used to reading (though have done before with success).

The man at the 'enquiry' counter informed me that my train had left, and I turned around to leave the station. At first I felt fine, bearing in mind that everything happens for a reason (jo bhi hota hai acche ke liye hota hai). I gave away my bananas to some kids at the station and call Jai to come pick me up. I figured I'd come in the morning and get a new train.

I came back the next morning, and encountered the worst of India's difficultly in getting something done. I should stop here. I could go on and on about how everything went horribly wrong for me and I have had 3 tickets which have all been waitlisted and unconfirmed (including a coveted tatkal ticket). I could go into detail about my sheer misfortune and lack of kismat. But I wont. I don't want to complain, especially because now I have a ticket to Varanasi which is confirmed and leaves tomorrow evening at 7:30 (19:30).

What I would like to touch on is how much I was shaken up by the whole thing, and the cultural experience it gave me. For the first time since I arrived in India I really just wanted it all to stop, to go home, and to be away from everything. Missing my train was okay, but the inability to get a new one put me in a foul mood. I missed meeting two friends in Varanasi, have now limited my time there to one day, and missed celebrating Shivraatri on the banks of the Ganga. I felt stuck in Bhilai, where the last few days have been spent watching TV and going to internet cafes and the train station to look and trains and tickets. My mind kept telling me that this is all wrong, that I should be in Varanasi. I should not be where I am. I should be having a really 'Indian' experience in Benares, singing bhajans to Shiva with sadhus...

I should be eating Benares paan, sipping chai on the Ganga with my friends. I should be having those experiences I expected to have. They will make me cool, well-traveled, spiritual. Bah. This got me all messed up and I tried not to listen to it. A foul mood swarmed over me and I found myself short and irritable.

The problem with being in a bad mood in India (for a person with my cultural upbringing) is that you have no privacy here of any kind. Everyone wants to let you know that you are in a bad mood, that you don't look good, that you 'shouldn't have missed you train in the first place'. And everyone wants to give you advice. My way of dealing with a bad mood is to get away from people and let it pass without hurting anyone's feelings or making more of a mess.

Here it is rare to get time alone, and I was feeling this crazy feeling of being trapped. Everyone and everything around me reinforced this idea that I was not in the right place. That I had screwed up. And to top it off I am the kind of person who always says, "How can you not be in the right place, you are here!?". This added self-loathing to the mix for my hypocrisy. I was sitting on the floor being thrown around by my monkey mind, feeling so angry at myself for having made ek choti galti. Then the question popped up, "Who is the 'I' that is mad at 'myself'?" Which one is really me?

It flipped the switch so fast tha, for a moment I had no idea what the problem was. There was a moment of silence where, from the question, the mind just flipped into itself and I was just sitting on the floor. The anger and regret came back quickly, but were just a murmur. I went and sat on the bed with Jai's mom and she said, "Oh son, you are in a baaad mood," then embraced me. For the first time since the onslaught of the bad mood I admitted that yes, I am in a terrible mood. And then it all vanished and I was just there with her.

Her health is much better now, by the way. She's back to her old self, cooking and cleaning and hanging out with the neighbors. And I am back to mine...

Maa and I making lunch

The cultural experience was that I saw that Indians, due to their lack of privacy, don't let things get to them much because they share all of their experiences and in doing so dissipate them. They don't keep problems to themselves and let them fester. I have noticed since coming here that we in America live much more individualized existences than our Indian sisters and brothers and are much more private than I thought we were. I have seen the benefits of the Indian-style, but for the first time I was in a position to surrender into it in the one way that is difficult for me to surrender: sharing my imperfections and mistakes.

And everything is fine.

---

Since I wrote that I have arrived in Varanasi after saying goodbye to the family in Bhilai. I was able to get a new train to Dehradun and can now stay here for 5 days. Plus, my friend Amberjade is here from Dharamshala which just goes to show that missing my train wasn't a big deal after all...

Shailendra, Maa, and Jaikishan

I was on the train for around 20 hours, and enjoyed spending time with my berth-mates and some guys I met in my car. It was my first time traveling in sleeper-class but it was rather comfortable and quite enjoyable to have the open windows and be able to sit in the door with my feet dangling out as the train roared through the Indian countryside.

I arrived in Varanasi around 5pm and got a place near Dasaswamedh Ghat. I got there just in time to catch the evening aarti on the Ganges, where hundreds of people were gathered around clapping and singing:

evening aarti at Dasaswamedh Ghat

This morning I went for a walk on the ghats, then went on a search for kachori gali (an alley supposedly dedicated to kachori). I'll leave you with a picture of the ghats on the river and a mouth-watering pic of my kachori sabji breakfast, which is a tiny foreshadowing of the next post in which I chronical the magical food and culture of Benares:

From the banks of Kashi, the city of light,

Daniel

Mama ain't well

2012-02-16T02:09:00.000-08:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

I've been listening to this song a lot the past week, so I think it'd be good if you listened to it also while you read this post, if you'd like:

I'm leaving Bhilai tomorrow after spending the last two weeks here, and since one week ago today Ma has been bed ridden with a sudden illness. Last Thursday she woke up with no energy, and for the following four days hardly ate anything and threw up when she did. She's been experiencing extreme weakness, fever, and chest pain, and until about day 5 refused to go to the doctor because, "they would just give her a glucose shot".

The first day Jai had to go to work, and I stayed home with Ma. She was in lots of pain, especially in her chest. I comforted her and made food for the guys, as they can't really cook. She was in rough shape for the first few days, moaning with pain and sleeping all day. She hardly was eating anything (and still isn't).

Ma laughing as Shailendra rubs her legs

She'd sleep in the bed at night, and I on the floor underneath her. I'd wake up in the middle of the night to her moaning with pain, repeating various Hindu names for God and Sai Baba's name. Coincidentally I had bought a memory card for my mobile phone, and it had this Sai Baba bhajan on it, which I sang to her along with the Sai Baba mantra she taught me.

A few days ago she went to the doctor, and they gave her a glucose shot and referred her to another doctor at the hospital. She has not gone and is still weak and ill, though she is eating more now and in good spirits. When she got back home from the hospital Shailendra took a cup of water and made circles with it around her body before she entered the house. When I asked why, he said 'buri nazar ke liye' (for the evil-eye).

They seem to think that her illness is the result of someone's evil eye, someone's jealous look that has brought about Ma's condition. I have heard this phrase many times in India, especially when something good has happened ("look out for someone's jealous evil eye!"). People are very superstitious about it here, especially with babies and children. Upon further investigation (on Wikipedia) I saw that it is prevalent in every culture, and the most prominent in Turkey. When I asked why someone would be jealous they said, "Because we have you...no one else has a white person in their house". They later retracted this statement, as you can imagine why. I felt guilty.

But then I told Ma, 'agar aapki bimaari kisee ki nazar se hai, to main sochta hun ki aap kisee ki achhi nazar se behtar ho jaa sakti hain, na?' "If your illness is from someone's evil eye, I would think that you could become better from someone's good eye, right?" I gave her the goodest eye I could give as she smiled, but she's still not doing so well.

Because of Ma's condition I have spent the majority of the last week at the house, making the meals for everyone and taking care of Ma. They hate that I have been cooking everyday, doing dishes, running errands, etc. but I told them that if they want to call me their brother/son than they need to treat me like one.

While making the meals I've had the chance to experiment with some dishes I've been wanting to make and things have come out pretty well, especially the rava dosa I made for breakfast the other day. Other successes have been besan halwa, dum aloo, palaak daal and a kheer recipe I got from Apu in Bangalore (which is killer). Ma has been eating mostly rice with curd and fresh juices.

rava dosa with fresh coconut chutney

the fixin's for coconut chutney (I also threw in some roasted chana daal [a variety they call chana daal fry, a trick I learned from Maa)

READY FOR COOK

I've been getting out in the evenings for some exercise and to play with the neighborhood kids. Being with their youthful, playful energy has been a nice contrast to the feeling at home. We've been playing a game where someone throws a stick and everyone climbs up an old peepal tree while one person retrieves the stick. Then those in the tree have to jump/climb down and touch the stick before the retriever tags them. Its lots of fun.

The kids get together at sundown, and this lovely group of old men always sit on this concrete foundation and watch the sunset:

I'm hoping in some way that the evil eye theory is right, meaning that Ma will be better tomorrow after I leave for Varanasi. I am not 'taking any tension' in terms of this being my fault or anything, but the one upside to that idea would be that she'd be better in two days. It's been an interesting two weeks...but at this moment I am feeling grateful. Grateful for the opportunity to be here in India, dancing my way through this country that I can't help but love more than own. I am grateful for my good health, and for my good fortune that has brought me everywhere I've been and to everyone I have met. I'm especially grateful for my amazing family back home, whom I miss and love tremendously. I'm grateful for my spectacular girlfriend, who I sent a love letter to last February and spent last Valentine's Day with on our first date; my incredible dog Nellie who I think about all the time; my lovely employers and co-workers at Chai-Pani; and for all of my dear friends who have inspired me and supported me. There are moments here in India that are so beautiful/unbelievable which I so badly want to share with them, which I guess is why I write this blog.

Most of all I am grateful for God; for That which sustains the world and everything in it, which is the play of life and its actors, stage, audience, beginning and end. I pray that I always remember That above all and remember that it is none other than my Beloved playing all the roles, and that sickness and health, joy and sorrow, life and death are but waves coming and going on the infinite, changless ocean of God's being.

Which reminds me that in about 72 hours I will be in one of the holiest and oldest cities in India, where everyone goes to die. It is said that dying in Benares (Varanasi) bestows liberation, and pilgrims from all over India (and the world) come here to bathe in the Ganga and see Kashi's majesty. What I did not know until recently is that Varanasi is famous for its chaat (street food), and I'll be meeting I. Clay and W. West from Chai-Pani there to sample some of the cities finest delicacies. From there I will head back to Uttarakhand, to Dehradun, Rishikesh, Haridwar and Mussoorie. After that I will stop through Delhi, then head to Vishakapatnam for a wedding (where I'm supposed to be meeting Ma, inshallah). Then its to Pune for Roli and Darshan's wedding, then back to Meherabad, then Mumbai, then home. It's looking like 6 April is my return date, which gives me a little under two months to keep zooming through this country and continue this dream come true. Thanks for being with me through this blog...

so much love,

Daniel

2012-02-07T01:29:00.000-08:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

I have recently returned to Bhilai, Chhattisgarh where I am staying with my friend Jai and his mother. They have become a second family here in India and it has been really nice to come 'back home'. I have not updated the blog in almost two weeks as I have been pretty busy and without a computer lately.

Since the last post I took a train from Meherabad, just after the Amartithi ceremonies came to an end. I was unable to guesstimate by looking at the crowd just how many people were there, but I heard numbers around 40,000 at the highest. Most people come for the 15 minutes of silence starting at noon on the 31st, which is the time that Meher Baba dropped his body.

The whole experience was lovely. The main focus was on the stage across from Meher Baba's tomb, on which people from all over the world played music and danced all day (and all night) long.

People save up all year long to attend Amartithi, and everyone there was so excited and inspired. Even though there were so many people there and so much going on it did not feel stressful or hectic (characteristic of large gatherings-especially in India). Aside from the main stage area there were various tents set up cooking food for specific ethnic regions of India as well as little booths selling Meher Baba merchandise and food. The vendors all come and set up on their own--they are not part of the Meher Baba Charitable Trust. My friend Pratibha and I stumbled across this bhel puri stand, which is the same one from a photo on the wall at Chai Pani:

We did not eat anything from it because it was a little sketchy...but it was so neat for me to see it. For two years I would see that picture on the wall at Chai Pani (which has a man lazily holding some rupees waiting for his food) and dream about being in India and seeing things like that. It has been interesting how normal India has become to me, but in that moment all of its glory and romance came back to me and I felt again like the kid in the candy store I was when I arrived here.

It was pretty amazing how quickly Amartithi came and went after all of the preparation leading up to it. Things were back to normal rather quickly, but to me Meherabad felt recharged with a fresh, inspired energy.

I spent most of the last week and a half in Meherabad in the MPR kitchen, cooking and hanging out with the staff there. During Amartithi the MPR sets up a canteen and sells cookies, cake, brownies, grilled cheese sandwiches, omlettes, soft drinks, chai, etc. On top of this they cook three meals a day for several hundred people. I hopped in and offered the help I could during the busy days, but also spent a lot of time with the kitchen staff just hanging out.
Especially with a special little guy named Rahul:

Rahul lives near the MPR and his mother works in the kitchen. His house is about 30 square feet and he lives there with his parents a little sister, named Pooja. Everyday after school (and on weekends/holidays) he comes to the kitchen and helps out. He doesn't get paid, but he and his family get to eat there and take home food.

Rahul and his mother

getting done up desi-style

He's a brilliant kid with a great sense of humor, and has a strong sense of integrity and character. He's also a mean volleyball player as we all found out. We hung out everyday and I started to feel like his big brother...and boy do I miss him and everyone else there in Meherabad.

I was there for over a month, and really felt at home after a while. I was sad to leave but also excited about moving on to Bhilai, where I am now. Jai has been working a lot so I have been spending most of my time with our mom. Yes, our mom, as she treats me like a third son. We have been having lots of fun cooking, walking around, seeing friends, and going to the Sai Baba Mandir. As a matter of fact I should get going soon because she is probably getting worried about me....

first night in Bhilai, Ma is waving at me to come over there

I'll be here for another week and a half, then I'm headed to Varanasi (Benares). Ma and I are planning to go to Chitrakoot next week and see the famous waterfalls there. I'll update when I can.

:0) Daniel

an Indian wedding

2012-01-27T20:02:00.000-08:00

WHERE: AHMEDNAGAR, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

This week held my first experience of an Indian wedding, which was held in Ahmednagar, just a few kilometers from Meherabad. I did not know the bride or groom but the groom's grandfather works for the Meher Baba Charitable Trust; therefore everyone here was invited.

The day before the wedding there was a 'cocktail party' in Arangaon, which hosted a few hundred people. Alan, Scott, and I brought over the wedding cake in Alan's car, which was really sketchy but successful:

Upon arriving, we were humorously shocked to see this tower in the middle of the compound:
It was the tackiest, weirdest array of things I have ever seen. It was like someone in a blindfold went to the flea-market in north Georgia and purchased a bunch of random things, then stacked them on some tables draped with white cloths.

The food missed the mark for most of us, but they did have a chaat table that had some decent bhel puri and kulfi.

bhel puri

kulfi
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The actual wedding was the following evening, at a large event-space in Ahmednagar. We arrived after the formal ceremonies just as the food was beginning to be served. The food and ambiance were much better at the wedding, as I think the caterers were different. The array of food was impressive, the decor was more refined and everyone there seemed generally happier and more comfortable than the night before.

the walkway to the wedding lawn

The lawn on which the wedding was held was surrounded with large coconut trees lit up with green spotlights. The place was bright, colorful and loud, with fireworks shooting off every now and then and people running around playing drums. Everyone looked really nice and done-up, especially the bride and groom:

Sheenal and Zubin

Ruby and I

The food was divided into a chaat line (with dosa, moong pancake, aloo chaat, pani puri, and mixed fruit), a paan section, an ice cream stand, a dessert section (with rava, gulab jamun, and rabri), a Indian section (with rice, daal, daal makhani, mattar masala, and malai kofta) and a Chinese section (with mixed veggies, gobi manchurian, and noodles).

the fruit table

making masala dosa

moong daal pancakes

aloo chaat (aloo tikki cholle)

top to bottom: rava, gulab jamun, and rabri

rice, daal makhani, and mattar masala

dahi vada

a makeshift tandoori oven

making paan

On a trip to the bathroom I stumbled across the outdoor kitchen, and talked with the crew. They had been working since 7 am and said they would be working until midnight.

After eating, the dancing began. The DJ was good, pumping out technoed-out Hindi songs while making noises into a microphone and dancing. People boogied down around the stage, on which the bride and groom sat as people brought them gifts. I saw this amazing thing happening and had to film it:

I rode the bus back towards Meherabad after a while, and on the trip an Iranian man began playing a drum and singing devotional songs. I got this picture which, though blurry, I really like. It captured the feeling of being on the shaky ride, with the music sort of intoxicating me.

My first Indian wedding was a blast, and I hope to be able attend my friend Roli's wedding in March since she has decided to post-pone it. Amartithi is in a few days here, so I'm off to the MPR kitchen now to help cook.

love,
Daniel

Photos of Late

2012-01-20T21:20:00.000-08:00

I find myself not wanting to do too much writing this post, so I'll just post some pictures from my recent ongoings and a brief caption with each. I'm still in Meherabad, and since my last post went back to Pune with AJ for 2 days, during which I had the chance to cook with a great group of guys. As of now I am here in Meherabad getting ready for Amartithi, during which tens of thousands of pilgrims will come to spend 3 days here celebrating the incarnation of Meher Baba.

From Pune:

I came across these guys working after hearing them from my friend's apartment window above their setup. I came down an introduced myself and literally was helping them cook in less than a minute:

Here we are making kachori, which I learned how to make back at Geeta Bhavan in Rishikesh. Their filling was different, with much more methi and less garam masala

This guy was in charge, overseeing the rest of the people as they worked. He runs this group, which is hired for various events to set up tents and make food. This particular event was a 3 day meditation workshop/celebration for Osho's mahasamadhi. This guy was saying that they'd be cooking all 3 days, with little to no sleeping. Here he is cutting onions for sambar.

piping hot idli

cutting some fresh paneer

Indians are masters at making things work. They tweaked this extremely old, corroded, and dangerous burner by using some spare parts lying around and had it blasting a 2 foot high flame in a matter of minutes. You can see their pot for steaming idli in the background.

lots of hand shaking and head wobbling went on

You can tell I just rolled out of bed...and that we are all really happy

Later in the day, AJ and I headed into Tulsi Baug to shop for some steel kitchen-goods. Just near the steel shops there was this lovely alley of spice vendors:

the famous Kashmiri chilli, prized for the mild flavor and deep, red color it imparts

best quality only

some Indian kids hanging out around a bhelpuri stand

Okay, it actually said 'mass gainer', but I swear it was turned this way only

These pictures are from hanging out in Arangaon, the village around Meherabad:
This contraption is cool. They put a glass bottle in this cylinder and pack sand around it, leaving a horizontal tube at the bottom where you see the stick. Then they pour a little gas inside and light it, creating a nice flame for cooking. The stick is continuously moved inwards as it burns. Here you can see them blackening some onions on the open flame, which were later blended into a paste with the spices below:

here is some roasted chana daal,coconut, cilantro, rice, turmeric and chilli powder.
These were mixed with the black onion paste, along with some millet grains that had been popped like pop corn. This masala was cooked with some just-slaughtered chicken. You can see us cooking in the video below:

Arangaon at sunset

my friend Rahul teaching me how to milk a cow

Its a much more vigorous process than I thought. His family was 1 cow and 6 water buffalo. The buffalo milk is much creamier than cow, and they gave me a glass straight from the teet. It was frothy and delicious.

dinner at my friends house

I'll be moving in with Alan this week, who runs the kitchen at MPR. I've been working in there off and on for the past few days, and will be in there helping out over Amartithi. I'll post again after the Amartithi craziness dies down. I'll be here in Meherabad until 3 Feb, then I'm headed back to Bhilai to see Jai and his family.

Big love,
Daniel

Makar Sakranti

2012-01-15T20:29:00.000-08:00

WHERE: ARANGAON, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

This Sunday was Makar Sankranti, a festival celebrated throughout India under various names. It marks the Sun's shift into Makara rashi (the sign Capricorn) under the Vedic astrological calendar. It is celebrated in many various ways throughout India, but I was lucky enough to be invited to a home in the Arangaon village to see how the Maharashtrian people do it.

Before I went to the village in the evening, I went into town with some friends from Asheville. They shopped around for some things they needed, and I got some sweets to take to the festival celebrations. The streets were filled with people flying kites, a tradition associated with Makar Sakranti.

Gabe and Ruby haggling for power adapters

On Makar Sakranti, people visit each others houses to receive sweets and blessings, and the women put turmeric and other colored powders on each other's foreheads.

India is very photogenic

While in town, my friend Amberjade arrived from Delhi. We went to MPR and got her moved into, and then headed into the village to celebrate.

Rangoli is a common sight during auspicious times in India, and its amazing to watch these girls as they make it. They hold these colored powders in their fingers and glide their hand above the ground as they let it fall, always having nice, even strokes. I noticed that before putting the rangoli down outside of the front of their house, they had smeared cow dung into the concrete.
We tried our hand at making the designs, only to realize how difficult it is.

We were hosted by a lovely family of about 15 people who live together in two houses next-door to each other. The neighbors are sisters-in-law, and between them there are 9 girls and 2 boys. Needless to say there is a lot of feminine energy, and the 2 boys are the youngest in both families. You can see pictures of them in my last post.

On our arrival, we hopped into the kitchen and helped make pooran poli, a festive chapati-like bread stuffed with jaggery and chana daal. We had some chai and then the girls insisted that they give us mehndi. Seema, the second eldest girl, did amazing designs on Amberjade, and did a nice and simple 'Jai Baba' on my wrist:

I could not believe how talented the girls were! Between them all they made beautiful clothes, stuffed animals, hats, hanging baskets, cooked great food, sang songs, did hair styling, and various other things. It was inspiring to see them all working together in the house, creating (through their various talents) all the things they needed.

I insisted (probably 10 times) that we all ate together, which is near impossible if you are a guest in an Indian home. Usually they sit you down and bring you enormous amounts of food, then sit around you and watch you eat it. And on top of being a guest it is a tradition still followed in many Indian homes that the men eat first and, once finished, the women take their meal.
We were served a festive meal of pooris, pooran poli (with a delicious sweet hot syrup poured on top, not pictured), bhajia (chickpea dumplings), rice, papad, and amthi (a thin, spicy chana daal soup).

Everything was delicious, and not too long after finishing this meal we were taken next door to eat another, consisting of the same things. I thought the second one was tastier.

After dinner we all hung out together in the living room...talking, laughing, singing songs, and participating in the festivities. As we sat, the girls kept showing me poetic Hindi text-messages they were receiving from their friends to mark the auspicious day, as well as all their girly, craft stuff.

As we hung out, other villagers came to the house to receive sweets and pay respects to the family (which kind of reminded me of Halloween). The women gave each other tilak with turmeric and a red powder, which they also gave us. Our hosts' heads were caked with layers of the powder from the days festivities, and I later learned that one of the sweets they exhanged was til-gul, a sesame-jaggery nugget. Upon exchanging this it is customary that they say,"Til-gul ghya, god god bola" meaning ‘Accept these tilguls and speak sweet words’. The under-lying thought in the exchange of tilguls is to forget the past ill-feelings and hostilities and resolve to speak sweetly and remain friends. (from Wikipedia).

All in all it was a wonderful night, and a great experience to be a part of celebrating this festival. We felt honored to be invited into their home, and I think they were really happy to have us. They invited us back before leaving Meherabad and I definitely plan on going back.

AJ and I are going to head to Pune tomorrow to see our friend Ankit before he heads back to the states, and I plan on revisiting Ramakrishna's and trying some more of their yummies! Then its back to Meherabad for me, where I feel very much at home now.

'til next time,
Daniel

Little Trip to Pune

2012-01-10T00:44:00.000-08:00

WHERE: PUNE, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

'Man being unconscious of actually possessing the never-ending continually conscious experience that God is everything and all else is nothing, for him everything is everything: Air is. Water is. Fire is. Earth is. Light is. Darkness is. Stone is. Iron is. Vegetation is. Insect is. Fish is. Bird is. Beast is. Man is. Good is. Bad is. Pain is. Pleasure is — and thus there is no end to what all else is, until he arrives at "nothing is" and instantaneously he realizes "God Is".'

Things have been going well here in Meherabad. I have met some amazing people lately, and also seen lots of familiar faces! There are quite a few people here from Asheville, which has been a treat.

As mentioned in the last post, I spent some time with some villagers in their home last week:

one of the sons, just returning from school

part of the family, with their Chhatrapati Shivaji clipboard

getting ready to milk the goats

They invited me back on the 15th for a festival dinner, which I am really excited to attend. I think we are going to make pooran poli together.

This weekend I met Meherwan , Molly, and Aria in Pune for some eating/shopping. They were staying at the Hyatt Regency, which had quite an amazing breakfast buffet. They made savory pancakes out of rice and chana daal, with vermicelli noodles, onions, and spices inside. I cannot remember what they were called, but they were quite good.

Meherwan and I headed into town, and walked through the old Parsi part of the Camp area of Pune, near MG road. We went to Meher Baba's childhood home and his teenage-years' home, which was across the alley. Baba's childhood home is now under the care of Meherwan's parents, so we go to go inside! Its called the Pumpkin House because of a big yellow rock out front that looks like a pumpkin (bhopla).

From there we went to a famous pav-bhaji walla off of MG Road. This place is always surrounded with people, which is not only an indication that it is really, really good but also that it is fresh and generally safe to eat.
All day long people on foot, bicycles, motorbikes, and fancy cars pull up to this little red hut and order pav-bhaji, a fluffly chickpea-battered potato patty on a sweet roll with green mint/cilantro chutney and green chiles. They have a kitchen down the street, and send piping-hot potato vadas to this little stand all day long.

they come with the green chutney inside the bun, green chiles, and little crispy fried chickpea-batter bits

We all split it because we were headed to lunch soon, but it was really, really freaking good. One thing I have noticed about both samosa filling and vadas like these is that the potato filling is much fluffier and softer than what we make/eat in the states. Meherwan had suggested that the Indian potato is different, which is possible....but I think there's some trick, and I want to figure it out!

From there we headed to Ramakrishna's, a famous pure vegetarian restaurant just off of MG road in Pune. Its really nice inside, and they have over 200 people working there total.

We ordered mostly chaat, which they are famous for. Below are the goodies!

paper dosa, which came with phenomenal sambar and coconut chutney

sabudana vada, tapioca pearl vada with peanuts, potatoes, and green chiles

Aria and the bhel puri, which is a slew of all kinds of goodies...one difference in this that I had not seen before was the addition of fresh pomegranate. Quite good

SEV POTATO DAHI PURI!!!

This (the SPDP) knocked my socks off. It was the best thing I have eaten since I arrived in India...maybe ever. What you have here are little puffed puris, which are filled with potatoes and tamarind chutney, then topped with a thickened sweet yogurt, peanuts, sprouted mung beans, fried chana daal, sev (crispy chickpea noodle) and finished with more tamarind chutney and cilantro.
The yogurt had been hung to make it really thick, and they had what seemed like kewra water in there, as it was slightly fragrant. The tamarind chutney was almost red, and like nothing I had every had before. It was almost hard to discern the tamarind in it, which might have been because after eating a bite of this it was hard to pick out just one flavor in anything.
Each bite was a melodious wonderland in your mouth, with all kinds of flavors and textures dancing on rays of golden sunshine in a sea of infinite deliciousness.

After we ate we were allowed to go into the kitchen, which was impressively efficient, clean, and good-spirited. All the guys were well dressed and happy, and the kitchen (though very crowded and tight) moved at an astounding pace. The kitchen is divided based on cuisine, so there's a south Indian section, a North Indian, a tandoori, a Chinese, and a chaat/vada section. I got this video in there, which begins with a cook putting idlis (which are spooned into a special pan with a cloth on top) into a big idli-steamer. From there I tried to pan around, but it was difficult to get even a part of the kitchen in the shot without having to move around (which was difficult). Still, you can get a feel for what it was like in there.

We had a fun drive on Monday night back to Meherabad, making fun of signs and the sayings on the back's of trucks and singing Hindi songs. I am working on a compendium of a post, highlighting funny Indian-English signs/posters/etc. and my impressions of Indian cultural norms/Indian personality traits. Stay tuned for that one...

Jai Hind!
Daniel

Back in Meherabad!

2012-01-04T20:55:00.000-08:00

WHERE: MEHERABAD, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

Since my last post in Bangalore I headed to Dharwad, then Pune, and now I am in Meherabad once again. The last evening in Bangalore was lovely, and I snapped a picture from Deepthi and Vinod's balcony just before I left. I had a wonderful time with them and hope to see them again soon!

And, as planned, I stopped by Adiga's again on the way to bus station and had a veg masala dosa. It was delightfully filled with carrots, radish, greens, and fresh green chiles and served with a thick daal and coconut chutney:

I took a bus overnight to Dharwad, a small town in northern Karnataka. The plan was to just stop through and taste the infamous Dharwad pedha, which turned out to be a difficult task. Due to the large popularity of this sweet every street is lined with shops claiming to sell the 'original' pedha. With some determination I was able to track down the Line Bazaar Babusingh's Original Dharwad Pedha Shop, and get my hands on the goodies.

Pedha's are a milk sweet made from boiling milk until all the liquid cooks out, then adding sugar and flavors (usually cardamom) and forming it into bite size balls. I forgot to get a picture of the pedhas before they were all eaten, but here's a stock internet photo to give you a glimpse:

From Dharwad I took a day-long bus to Pune, and stayed with my dear friend Kusum. We spent a relaxing few days together cooking, doing yoga, talking and going for walks around her neighborhood. I had a really nice time, and we made some good food:

Gujrati debra (fried millet cakes) with daikon radish raita and some kind of black Maharashtrian chutney

Gujrati daal (very thin, with coconut and jaggery), green chickpea and bottle gourd sabji, beet salad with fresh paneer and mint chutney, and bajra roti (also called bhakri, a bread made from millet flour)

From Pune I headed back to Meherabad. Meherwan and Molly, the owners of Chai Pani, and their daughter Aria are here along with the rest of their family. They are holding Navjote (a Zoroastrian coming of age ceremony, similar to Bat mitzvah) for Meherwan's brother's daughter as well as a similar ceremony for Aria.

We have been busy the last few days with these ceremonies, cooking and setting everything up, and today is the first day we can all relax. It was lots of fun to meet the whole big family and some of Amrit's relatives that I met in Dehradun came down, which was nice.

I still don't quite understand the Navjote ceremony, in terms of what exactly everything represents...but below you can see pictures from Aria's and then Anya's.

the door!

this tray is paraded around before the cermony, with all kinds of things on it. On the far left you can see Alan, the chef at the Meher Pilgrim Center. To the right of him is Meena (Amrit's eldest sister), Amrit, and Fara (Meherwan's brother Jamsched's wife).

Aria's Navjote in progress

Amrit's mother and I; she is the source of much of Amrit's culinary excellence, and Meher Baba used to often request her daal above all others. We make that same daal today at Chai Pani.

I started this game of sneaking up on Aria and taking pictures, and got some really good (and extremely cute) ones:

that's Amrit's sister Meena in the background

Aria's ceremony was an abbreviated and unorthodox one, as she is not Zoroastrian. The following day Anya's Navjote was held, and around 150 people came out for the ceremony and party afterwards.

in the middle of the ceremony, one of the priests ANSWERED HIS PHONE....

I did not end up getting a lot of pictures from the cooking because I was so busy. However, the menu was exquisite on both days, and Amrit and I also did some cooking for the family before the ceremonies. Below is a sloppy picture of the food from Aria's Navjote ceremony:

frying papads with the MPR kitchen staff

---

There's a small village called Arangaon between Ahmednagar and Meherabad, which you have to drive through to get to the Meher Pilgrim Center. I met some locals and after talking with them for a while I was invited to their home. It was a great experience, and they invited me back on the 15th for Makar Sankrant, a celebration of the Sun entering the sign of Capricorn (based on the Vedic astrological calendar).

[Camera battery died at this point, will post pictures later]

Because everywhere I have been in India has been new, it is really nice to be in a familiar place with familiar faces. I am planning on being here (or nearby) for the month of January as there is a huge gathering here on the 31st to celebrate the anniversary of Meher Baba's physical passing. Meherwan and I were talking about going on a food-escapade to Pune, and I'm sure we'll be doing some good cooking over the next couple of weeks which I'll be sure to post.

Now its time to enjoy the lovely loveliness of Meherabad. I'll update again soon!

love, Daniel

Bangalore Food

2011-12-26T03:26:00.000-08:00

WHERE: BANGALORE, KARNATAKA, INDIA

I left Tiruvannamalai on Friday, after spending a day doing giripradakshina, or walking around the mountain. The trail was tranquil and quiet as it winded its way clock-wise around the Arunachala hill. I tried to make it around barefoot, but about halfway needed to break out the trusty Chacos. Thank goodness I still have them!

I've spent this Christmas weekend in Bangalore, the capital of Karnataka state. I had originally planned to meet some friends here and go to Ooty, but plans changed and I ended up staying with a lovely couple (and their adorable son) from CouchSurfing.

Vedavyas, my host's son

More than ever I am feeling really inspired to explore the depths of Indian cuisine, after seeing so much new food here in South India. I have been researching non-stop, learning all kinds of new things. One of the main differences I have noticed in the south is that the food is lighter, fluffier, and brighter. I don't necessarily mean better, though those words may convey that. The main ingredients in South Indian cuisine are rice and coconut, with jaggery, chiles, curry leaves, and lentils almost always present also.

Bangalore is a big city, though most people that live here are not from here. The fact that it is a huge tech-hub and has lots of colleges brings in people from all over India. This has also contributed to there being all kinds of food available here, but I did my best to taste the regional favorites.

I had the best meal that I have had so far on Sunday at a place called Adigas in Jayanagar.

The menu was displayed on several different boards on several different walls throughout the room, making it difficult to discern what exactly they had. Behind the register there was a board with the day's specials, so I ordered the dahi vada and neer dosa from there.

dahi vada

neer dosa with coconut chutney and a coconut sweet

They were both fantastic. Absolutely delicious. Dahi vada is essentially a vada (donut shaped savory fermented lentil dumpling) soaked in a elegantly spiced yogurt. This particular dahi vada was topped with boondi and peanuts, giving a spicy crunch to go ever so nicely with the soft, sweet vada and yogurt. It put all other dahi vada I have tried to shame.

Neer dosa is a light, soft dosa. It is also called 'water dosa' as the batter, made only from ground rice and cooked rice, is very thin. Sometimes ground coconut is mixed into the batter, but not at Adigas. Is it left to ferment, and then ladled out onto a hot griddle. Once cooked it is folded over and brushed with ghee, as you can see above.

It is so delicious. It is incredibly light and somewhat sticky from the fermentation. It is similar to the appaam, which you can see below, but thinner and softer. It was served with a mild coconut chutney and flaked coconut cooked with ghee and jaggery.

The meal was so simple but the flavors were exquisite and heavenly. I noticed some fresh carrot halwa after eating, and ordered a bowl. It was also very good, and I noticed that they added khoa to the halwa, something I have never done but will now do forever.

carrot halwa

The kitchen set-up in Adigas was intimidating. There must have been at least 12 guys crammed in there, making all kinds of deliciousness. They had endless containers filled with varieties of chutneys, sambar, rasam, daal, rice, and other South Indian yummies. They pace was very very fast, and after seeing that the cooks and I had no common language I just let them work and did not bludgeon them with questions.

I had another good meal this weekend at a place called Coconut Grove, near MG Road. My lunch was a dish called Ulli Theeyal, which was described on the menu as, [verbatim] "the onions poached in tamarind extract a curry of masala that is boiled then fried." It was basically tiny, tinywhole little onions in a coconut-tamarind curry. It was very good. I ordered some appaam with it, which like the neer dosa are made with ground rice. The appaam is fermented using toddy and then cooked in a slightly concave cast iron pan which the restaurant boasts, "has never been washed."

ulli theeyal with appaam - the lighting was weird in here so I couldn't get a good picture

Down the street from Coconut Grove was a place called K.C. Das, which I learned from a magazine article the day before is the sweet shop which invented rasgulla.

The original K.C. Das is in Calcutta, and their only other location is here in Bangalore. I went to taste their rasgulla and was able to pick up a tin of canned rasgulla from there, which apparently are hard to come by.

The rasgulla (above) were very good, but not the best I've ever had. They were very simple, and I could tell they were the 'textbook' rasgulla. I think the ones I had in Dehradun were better, as the sugar syrup for those had a bit of rose essence in it. Perhaps if I make it to Calcutta I will try them at the original K.C. Das and see if its any different.

On Christmas day my hosts had some friends over for a potluck and I made dum aloo, jeera rice, and banana samosa. Dum aloo is a Kashmiri dish made with baby potatoes and pressure cooked with yogurt and aromatic spices like cinnamon, clove, cardamom, and fennel. I had never made it (or the other two dishes either) but it came out decent.

Jeera rice is basically cumin-fried rice. I discovered the joys of making rice in a pressure cooker, which allowed me to make the best rice I have ever made in a matter of minutes. Indians use a pressure cooker that has a whistle system, which are different from those in the West. I am learning how quintessential they are to Indian cuisine, and my success with the jeera rice got me excited on getting HUGE pressure cookers and making some lovely things at Chai-Pani.

The banana samosas came out amazing. I proposed the idea of making samosas for people to have with their drinks, but my host said that since I was making dum aloo that more potatoes wouldn't be good. I had remember seeing a recipe for Jain samosas a while back which use green bananas instead since Jains do not eat potatoes.

I gave it a go, cooking the bananas in their peels in pressure cooker, for 3 whistles:

They came out nice and tender, and I threw them into a pot with some oil, spices, diced carrot, cilantro and lime. After cooking that I mixed in some freshly grated coconut and ended up with a freaking delicious filling. We served the samosas with some homemade tamarind chutney and they were a huge hit.

Such a huge hit, in fact, that an Indian man said they were the best samosas he had ever eaten. THE BEST SAMOSAS HE HAD EVER EATEN.

That was the greatest Christmas present I could have gotten. It made me really happy. We had a nice time celebrating, and I had fun hanging out with all of the kids! One of the girl's birthday is Christmas day, so they had a tasty chocolate cake to enjoy:

I am leaving here tonight to take the overnight bus to Dharwad. Dharwad is the home of the Dharwad pedha, a very famous sweet in India. I hope to meet the folks that make them and find out a bit about the history of them, but I am not getting my hopes up about learning how to make them as the recipe is apparently TOP secret.

That's all for now. I think I'll stop at Adigas on my way to the bus stop for dinner, and if its half as good as last time I'll post pictures in the following post.

Big love,

Daniel

Arunachala

2011-12-17T00:26:00.000-08:00

WHERE: TIRUVANNAMALAI, TAMIL NADU, INDIA

"ARUNACHALA

THOU DOST ROOT OUT

THE EGO OF THOSE WHO MEDITATE

ON THEE IN THE HEART, O ARUNACHALA"

-Akshara Mana Malai

Arunachala hill

Since my last post I have traveled almost 2,500 km from Rishikesh to Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu. I was brought here by a desire to see Arunachala hill and visit Ramanasramam, the ashram that grew up around the sage Ramana Maharshi.

Wanting to reform the world without discovering

one's true self is like trying to cover the world with leather

to avoid the pain of walking on stones and thorns.

It is much simpler to wear shoes.

-Sri Bhagvan Ramana Maharshi

The 'true self' that Bhagvan speaks of is the essence of all life, the one Reality or God. And 'wearing shoes' means to experience full realization of that Reality. Ramana taught the practice of Self-inquiry, teaching that first one should know thyself. Since everything depends on a Self or and Experiencer, that should be sought first before any other conclusion can be made about anything else. He went on to teach that after realizing the Self, there would be no 'anything else' to make conclusions about since there is naught but the Self.

It is taught that mistaking the the mind-created sense of self (the name, body, mind, personality, etc.) to be our identity has created all of the problems we experience. He taught that the true Self is all that we ever were, are, and will be, and it is eternally blissful existence-being. His teaching echoes with the essence of Vedanta: Tattvam Asi 'thou art That'.

The young Ramana had an illumination experience when he was only 16, whereby after enacting his own death on the floor of his home he noticed that though the body dies, the "I" still remains as the witness.

'Enquiring within Who is the seer? I saw the seer disappear leaving That alone which stands forever. No thought arose to say I saw. How then could the thought arise to say I did not see.'

After this he heard someone mention 'Arunachala' his heart filled with wonder. He had to know what this place was and where where it was, for surely it must be a magical land. He made his way here and spent several years living in the basements of temples, under trees, and in caves on Arunachala hill, unconcerned with the world around him.

An ashram grew up around him, which is called Sri Ramanasramam.

It is a lovely place; very lively yet always permeated with a deep peacefulness. This, being the tourist season due to tolerable weather, has brought people from all over the globe to share in Ramana's grace and the uplifting energy of the ashram.

As you walk in under a beautiful old tree you can look up and see Arunachala, the sacred mountain that Ramana Maharshi called 'the spiritual heart of the world'.

Throughout the day there are various pujas and ceremonies, though none are mandatory and it is encouraged that all people practice in whatever way is suitable for them. At any point in the day you can find several people simply sitting. Not meditating, and not resting from doing something....but just sitting. Its lovely. There are these two women who sit next to each other all day, and fill each page of their planners (from top to bottom) by writing Arunachala (in their native Telegu). There are young Brahmin boys who play tag while on break from studying the Vedas, Westerners in ochre robes meditating in the main hall and Indian's with cell phones chatting on the steps. There are people of all ages and all walks of life peacefully being together, all focused on the Self which unties all.

There are lots of animals that wander around the ashram, all of which are well fed and very people-friendly. My favorites are the peacocks.

The food here is out of this world. Coming to South India has been my first real dose of being in a new country, since before (when I was in North India) I knew the language and the food. Here nobody speaks Hindi and they eat completely different food. The food is even different than what I'd imagined, and the ashram cranks out a tremendous amount of deliciousness throughout the day.

The dining hall is simple: rows of leaf plates (banana leaves at lunch) are laid out with a glass of water. You walk in, sit down, and wait. Then the food starts coming. And it keeps on coming. Most of the pictures below are of the plate after the first couple of items came, at which point I had to start eating making it difficult to photograph the latter items.

rice with pumpkin curry and greens

hand polished rice, vegetable curry (I really dont know what this was), carrot usli

*usli is a dish in which several types of daal are blended together, made into flat patties, and then either steamed or fried. The patties are then crumbled and mixed with some cooked vegetables and spices.

this is round 1: hand polished rice, okra daal, and plantain flower usli

then...

machine polished basmati with rasam and chickpea salad

(after this a sweet pongal (rice cooked with ghee and jaggery) and buttermilk with spices were brought)

(left to right) puliohara (rice mixed with a spiced tamarind paste, chana dal, and peanuts), vegetable pulao, and carrot/green bean curry

(clockwise from top) some kind of cooked cabbage, fruit salad (grapes, pomegranate, cashews, tamarind, and papaya), tomato pulao, mint fried rice

Okay, now lets talk about IDLIS! Idlis are a very common South Indian breakfast, and they are essentially soft, pillowy steamed rice/lentil cakes. They are served with a whole slew of different sides, with some examples shown below:

idlis with tomato sambar, and rice pongal

idlis with coconut chutney and rice pongal

I know this one looks weird, but it has been my favorite so far. Clockwise from the idlis you have rice pongal, gunpowder (a mix of spices and daals) with a dollop of ghee on top, and jaggery. You smear the idlis in this ghee/spice mix and then add a little jaggery. DELICIOUS!

After eating a meal here I am literally smiling not only because the food tastes so good but because it is filled with so much love and care. I asked to work in the kitchen but was denied, because working in the kitchen here is the same as doing the puja/ceremony (which is done by the priest or pujari). The kitchen here is a sacred place, and the food from it is prasad.

Not only does the kitchen feed us all very well three times a day, but before lunch they send out HUGE pots of food to the gate and give out food to a long line of hungry people for free. I walked over to check it out and was surprised to see not only the wide variety of food they were giving (everything from rice to elaborate vegetable concoctions to dessert) but the immense quantities they were piling on each plate and stuffing in each tiffin. It was truly inspiring.

Even more inspiring is the fact that the ashram also runs a free medical dispensary, which I visited upon arriving to resolve some stomach troubles and slight fever I had upon arrival in Tiruvannamalai (everything is fine, don't worry Mom). They are open 6 days a week and give out all medications for free.

The ashram does not charge for anything. Donations are accepted but not even pressured. Its not like other temples/ashrams where there are donation boxes everywhere. You have to go into a certain office and get a receipt if you want to make a donation. Many spiritual teachers say that selfless service is extremely important, for in serving others you forget about your limited sense of self and when that is forgotten all that is seen is God (the real Self or Reality).

---

On Sunday, after lunch, I decided to climb the Arunachala hill. I set off around one o'clock and worked my way up the surprisingly difficult trail. It was basically rock-climbing, and I was glad I had my trusty Chaco's with me to give me the needed grip and support.

I got a little over half-way up when a group of kids started to yell at me, "Chappal! Chappal!" meaning 'sandals' (the same in Hindi and Tamil). The father approached me and asked me to remove my sandals.

"Ramana said it did not matter if one wore sandals on the mountain or not," I said, referring to his quote:

“I already wear one set of dead leather (meaning the body). What does another matter?”

"Yes," said the Father. "You're right, but the kids don't understand that. To them this is a temple."

"Okay," I said, removing my sandals. He told me to leave them under a nearby tree, and that Lakshmi (the goddess of good fortune) would take care of me.

As I walked, I was surprised to see how much trash had been left by people on the same mountain they refused to wear shoes on. As I got up a final stretch of boulders, I could see the peak:

A few minutes later I was on the top of what is considered the world's largest Shivalingam. Every evening a huge fire is enkindled on the top of the mount, and every day groups of people bring up gallons and gallons of ghee which they burn through the night. Because of this, the entire top of the mountain is covered in a sort of black tar and, of course, trash. The Indian idea of clean is different than that of the West, and even now I am still not used to seeing trash on such precious wilderness areas. I talked with a friendly guy at the top, who reminded me that being on Arunachala is not a experience for the 5 senses but for that which is beyond sensual perception. I agreed (not knowing yet about the experience I'd have on the way down). I must say though that the views from the top were spectacular, and the friendly guy took a picture of yours truly from the peak:

view of the Annamalaiyar temple from the top

I sat down to enjoy a banana and to share some nuts and berries with a German fellow I met near the peak, and we were accompanied by this friendly granny monkey. We shared our snack with her, and she gently took it from our hands:

I started down on my own, meeting some young Tamil boys just as I began my descent. One of them spoke English, and the others knew a few words. I told them I wanted to play a game called 'Find Daniel's Chappals' and they happily agreed. We looked with no avail, and I decided to just head down barefoot and say goodbye to my beloved Chacos. It was a strange decision though, because I feel like I could have looked a lot harder but for some reason just felt like I needed to give up.

I headed down with the boys, and we laughed and joked as we made our descent. The taught me some Tamil words and I taught them how to say "Go!", which I regretted since every time I would pause on a sketchy step they would yell, "GO, GO, GO, GO!" My feet started to hurt after a while, but I just kept climbing and walking and remembering that 'Lakshmi will take care of me'. I felt peaceful, more connected to the mountain that I had on my 'conquest' like ascent and was surprised how little my mind worried about my feet or lost Chacos.

As we neared the bottom I was going pretty slow as to avoid as many thorns, small stones, and sun-baked rocks as I could. The boys got ahead of me, and I lost sight of them. Within a few minutes I heard them yelling my name, and when I reached them they were with a group of older gentlemen. The gentlemen informed me that a young boy (whom they called the 'buttermilk boy') had been seen with large sandals that matched the description of mine. The Tamil boys ran off again out of sight, and I continued my slow descent.

I must have taken a wrong turn, because I ended up on a different path than I had come up. It led me into the back side of a village, and as I wandered in I heard the sound of splashing water. As I neared I heard the boys again, screaming my name. I rounded a corner and found them sitting next to a big swimming hole, with my Chacos in hand.

"We got your chappals," said the eldest boy. "A kid had taken them, but don't worry because we got them for you!" He smiled and handed me my sandals. "We found them, didn't we!" he proudly remarked.

me with two of the boys who found my sandals

the swimming hole

They walked me through the village and back to the main road, and we walked through downtown Tiruvannamalai:

We came to a crossroad, and they pointed the way back to town. "Thanks Danny," they said.

I laughed and thanked them, and they ran off down an alley.

I walked back to the ashram, looking up to the hill from the street. People all over the world worship Arunachala, and Ramana said, "It is God himself". I smiled as I thought about the sandal fiasco, thinking about the instinctive decision to leave them, meeting the boys, and taking the wrong turn. How great it was that the mountain let me climb down in my bare feet, and had the buttermilk boy carry my chappals down for me!

That story just touches the surface on the amazing experiences I have had in Tiruvannamalai (and India in general), and many of them are beyond words. They all touch that place which is beyond the senses, and they have opened me deeper into experiencing the truth of who I am and what existence really is.

Ramana said that once you visit the hill, it keeps beckoning you back. I was surprised to think of how blatantly it worked with me, and how it showed me to forget myself and my needs and to have faith. My feet are fine today, and actually feel strong and tough. This week I plan on taking a walk around the mountain, which is called giripradakshina. More on that next time.

---

I plan on staying in Tiruvannamalai for another 5 days, then I'm heading to Bangalore to meet some friends. I'll post again from here chronicling the food and hopefully some more lessons and grace from Arunachala.

Peace,

Daniel

Mithai

2011-12-05T01:41:00.000-08:00

WHERE: RISHIKESH, UTTARAKHAND, INDIA

This post is dedicated to my time spent in Gita Bhavan Sweet Shop in Swarg Ashram/Ram Jhula, Rishikesh. I started on Monday under the guidance of Raju Singh, a Rajasthani man who runs the kitchen:

The shop does not make milk sweets like rasmalai, rasugulla, etc. because they do not make khoa there. Khoa is the base of many Indian sweets, and it is made by simmering milk (both cow and water buffalo) for several hours until in condenses to about 1/5 of the original amount. There are a few types of khoa, and its delicious even by itself.

They do make some sweets with khoa (burfi, pedha, gulab jamun) but they bring it in from somewhere else. According to Wikipedia 600,000 metric tons are produced in India annually. The shop also brings in ghee, and they use at least 15 gallons a day in the slow season (now) and up to 30 in the summer. That, my friends, is a LOT of butter.

Some of the shops specialties are:

Balushahi: an Indian doughnut of sorts...all-purpose flour rings fried in ghee, then coated in a sugar syrup. Below you can see Raju ladling molten sugar syrup over the balushahi:

Methi Ladoo: A ladoo made from fenugreek (methi) seeds, which are ground and mixed with flour, ghee, sugar (or jaggery), almonds, cashews, coconut, milk, red chili powder, and some spices. Said to be good for pregnant and postpartum women.

left: gund ladoo, right: methi ladoo, back middle: balushahi

Gund Ladoo: A ladoo made from gund (edible gum).

Boondi Ladoo: A very popular Indian sweet, these ladoos are made from boondi, which are little balls of chickpea flour (besan) flash-fried in ghee. They are mixed with a sugar syrup and cashew bits and formed into balls. Delicious.

Here's how you fry boondi:

and here you'll see the boondi going into a sugar syrup, colored with orange food coloring. Once there is enough it is left to cool, then formed into ladoos:

Besan Ladoo: Ladoos made with chickpea-flour which has been slow roasted in ghee, sugar, pistachios, and cardamom.

Nariyal Burfi: Dried coconut mixed with khoa, ghee, and sugar. Delicious soft coconut bites, with a consistency somewhat similar to fudge

smoothing out the nariyal burfi

Besan Burfi: Burfi made with slow roasted chickpea-flour, sugar, ghee, and nuts.

Pedha: For pedha, khoa and ghee are cooked with sugar and stirred continuously until very thick. Little balls called pedha are then made and decorated with cardamom seeds and pistachios.

Jalebi:

Another Indian favorite, jalebi is made by frying a batter made from all-purpose flour and besan in a shallow pan of ghee, then dipping in sugar syrup. The batter must be beaten by hand, as you can see below:

The batter ferments for a while, and then is poured into hot ghee in the shape of rings. After frying it is dipped briefly in a sugar syrup. Below you can see a video of me making jalebi:

Kaju/Badam Katli: A halwa-like dessert made from kaju (cashew) or badam (almond) which has been ground and mixed with sugar, ghee, cardamom, and sometimes pistachios. Its sometimes also called burfi, and is cut into rhombus shapes.

joyously grinding cashews

almond peeling

internet photo of kaju katli, because I forgot to take one. Sometimes it is made with a silver foil on top, but Gita Bhavan does not do this.

Kachori: Kachori is a speciality of UP and Rajasthan, and these guys make KILLER kachori. They are little fried balls stuffed with moong daal, urad daal, besan and spices. The spice mix alone for these is delicious, and I cant seem to get the recipe out of anyone. By looks and taste, it seems to be made from the aforementioned daals, sesame seed, fennel seed, garam masala, chili powder, sugar, and salt.

Below is a video of some kachori coming out of the fryer:

Poori Sabji: People come in daily for breakfast and lunch to eat the shop's poori sabji, which is simply poori (a puffed, fried bread) with sabji (vegetables; in this case potatoes and chickpeas boiled with spices). The sabji is loaded with black salt and very, very good. Below you can see how they quickly and efficiently make pooris:

Namkeen: A word used to describe a very wide range of crispy fried snack bits. The shop makes all kinds of stuff...and in huge quantities. A common and simple example is sev, which is made by extruding chickpea flour into oil and flash-frying it. You can see Raju doing this below:

They have these HUGE cylinders with giant fires inside, which are fed by a hose dripping diesel into the flames. They are insane. Most of the dishes require a sugar syrup, which is made by combining sugar and water and cooking on these huge burners until the desired consistency is reached:

Everything is down to a science. Nothing is written down, yet everyone knows the exact measurements of everything. Because of this, they can each walk around and step in at any moment in the process of making something and know exactly what to do. Each person also has their specialty, a thing their responsible for and skilled at making. But they all know how to do everything, and hardly take any ownership over anything they've made.

There's a group of ladies who do most of the peeling, rolling, and packing. They always look at me and laugh.

Most of the guys who work there live on the roof in a small room. They make RS 150 per day, which is $3 USD. They work very efficiently and very diligently, and are always in great spirits.

I have learned so much working with them, and have had lots and lots of fun. One of the most rewarding moments for me was after I made jalebi one day I was walking around the market and saw a local shopkeeper passing around jalebi to all of his buddies. It was so cool to see the locals eating something I had made, and even cooler to think that the last thing in their mind was that I, a foreigner, had made it.

---

I've been here in Rishikesh for 10 days now, and was going to head to Haridwar today and couchsurf with a friend. He called and said he had some urgent work come up, so I think I'll stay here in Rishikesh until the 13th, then head back to Dehradun. I'll be flying from there to Chennai on the 14th, and then heading to Tiruvannamalai to Ramana Maharshi's ashram at the bottom of the sacred mountain, Arunachala.

To learn more about Arunachala and the sage Ramana Maharshi who lived there, watch The Sage of Arunachala on YouTube.

Blessings,

Daniel

Rishikesh

2011-11-30T21:44:00.000-08:00

WHERE: RISHIKESH, UTTARAKHAND, INDIA

I am in Rishikesh, a famous Hindu city in Uttarakhand at the foothills of the Himalayas. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come here each year for spiritual inspiration and to take a dip in the holy Ganga. The city is home to innumerable temples and ashrams and has been called the 'Yoga capital of the world'. At my first impression I was a bit turned off by the level of commercialized spirituality here but after spending a few days in the Kriya Yoga ashram I feel better about it all, and am actually quite enjoying it.

Kriya Yoga is a method of yoga concerned specifically with intensive study, meditation practice and spiritual discipline, and surrender to God with the ultimate goal being Self- and God-realization. It is referenced in both the Bhagavad Gita and the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali was made popular in the West by Paramahansa Yogananda and his book Autobiography of a Yogi. It is a practical scientific approach of self-mastery helping the yogi to purify his mind, body, and consciousness so that the realization of Ultimate Reality may naturally and easily dawn.

Paramahansa Yogananda

I learned Kriya Yoga practice through Roy Eugene Davis (and his students), who was a direct disciple of Paramahansa Yogananda in the late 40s and early 50s. Mr. Davis runs a meditation retreat in Lakemont, Georgia called Center for Spiritual Awareness, which I frequent. I arrived at the Kriya Yoga ashram in Rishikesh to see a calendar from CSA on the wall, assuring me that I was in the right place.

I have enjoyed staying here and taking time for deep introspection. The building reminds me of the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington, DC as it is a big, 3 story circle with a meditation chamber in the middle. The outer ring is guest rooms and a reception area/lobby. They have lots of nice books from all walks of the spiritual path and a morning and evening meditation/aarti.

The food is simple and tasty. They do not use onions or garlic, yet still manage to make some great stuff. Here is a typical lunch:

sabzi kadi (veggies in a yogurt/chickpea flour sauce), aloo gobi (potatoes and cauliflower), mooli patha (radish greens), rice, and roti

I took my first bath in the Ganga the other day, and emerged from the water to see a smiling sadhu who proceeded to utter "Hari Om" to me. I smiled back and responded, "Hari Om, woh meri pehli baar ganga mein thi!" (That was my first time in the Ganges!). We both laughed.

---

On Saturday I went to the cave purported to be that of the sage Vasistha, a legendary rishi of Hindu mythology and the 'mind son' of Brahma (the creator). A copper bust of Vasistha was dated to be older than 3700 B.C. after being found near Delhi, showing that Rigvedic teachings were already being disseminated before that time.

In the ancient sacred text Yoga Vasistha the sage Vasistha expounds the Supreme Truth to his student Rama. The essence of the teaching is that God alone exists as the one Self of everything. Nothing can exist without a self to imbue it with existence, and because this Self is omnipresent in everything, it alone is real and all else is illusory.

"The conceptualization of consciousness is known as bondage and the abandonment of such conceptualization is liberation"
-Vasistha's Yoga

There were people meditating in the cave so it was not appropriate to take a picture, but I did take one of the entrance and of the Ganga on the banks of which the cave lies:

that doorway to the left of Shiva leads to the cave

the Ganga, opposite the cave

---

Mr. Davis recommended that I visit the Divine Life Society while in Rishikesh, which is the ashram/spiritual headquarters for the late Swami Sivananda Saraswati. Swamiji was a great teacher of Yoga and Vedanta, teaching the same message as Vasistha that Brahman or God is the only Reality and the substratum of everything. He is often quoted with the simple statement, "Be good. Do good". One of Swami Sivananda's disciples, Swami Venkatesananda, translated the Yoga Vasistha into beautiful English, which is the copy I have.

When I entered the ashram premises I was confronted with the usual feeling the comes when I'm in a new place: not knowing what to do (or not to do) or where to go (or not to go). I approached a group of monks and was warmly welcomed, given an orientation of the premises and told, "Go anywhere you'd like".

I walked around, and visited a temple on the ashram grounds. Inside the temple was a beautiful bust of Adi Shakaracharya, the founder of the Swami order and a legendary proponent of Advaita (non-dualism).

Swami Sivananda is on the wall behind the bust of Shankaracharya

Next to the temple is the samadhi (tomb) of Sivananda, which I hesitated to enter upon first arrival. I walked around for a while, but something drew me back towards the door before leaving. I took off my shoes and went in. I sat down, and within minutes guru puja (worship ceremony) began.

There were probably 15 of us in the room outside the tomb, and we crowded around a small table with the monks, who were chanting in Sanskrit. Two silver sandals (the guru's feet) were placed in a large, flat bottom bowl, and marigolds were passed around which we placed on the feet of the guru. We proceeded to spoon milk onto the sandals from dishes in front of us, and after the milk had all been poured the dishes were filled with water from the Ganga which we spooned in the same fashion, until the sandals were again shiny and clean.

One of the monks took the sandals and put them in a cloth, which was passed around and we each took turns drying it. The sandals were then put back on the table in a new dish, lined with a lacy, saffron colored cloth. We then each put a dab of sandalwood paste and some red powder on the sandals. Then plates of mango leaves and flowers were passed around, and we proceeded to toss these onto the feet. Then we were given a small quantity of uncooked rice coated in turmeric, which we threw onto the pile of flowers.

We then sat in meditation, chanted OM, and then followed the main monk as he led some devotional songs. They were lovely.

After that the feet were taken into the tomb, and we each entered one by one to walk through the tomb and upon our exiting, touch the gurus feet. As we walked out we were given a spoonful of milk to drink, and some prasad. I walked over to touch the main monk's feet (a tradition showing respect/request for blessing) and he garlanded me with an array of marigolds and handed me an orange and a banana.

I left the tomb feeling elevated, rejoicing in the simple fact that I exist. As I walked to the Ram Jhula bridge I shared my banana with the first person I saw, who held my hand and sang a hymn to Krishna. As I walked the people who usually ask for money gave me pranaam, folding their hands in reverence and saying, "Hari Om".

I walked toward the Ganga to sit and eat the orange, and was compelled to give my garland to the first cow I saw. It graciously let me, and as soon as I sat on a bench two other cows came up to me. I split my orange in half, gave it to them, and gave them both a good petting.

I then walked down to Ganga and washed my hands.

During my time at Divine Life Society I did not for a moment feel separate from the group, or like an outsider. I felt right at home. When you are treated with this kind of welcoming love, it inspires you to give it to others. I left the Ganga thankful for this experience.

---

So I went back to Chotiwallas and they denied my offer to work for free. I was a little bummed, but I walked down the street to a mithai (sweets) shop and asked to speak with the boss. I was given the name and place: Gauri Shankar, Gita Bhavan. I found my way to Gita Bhavan and asked around for Gauri Shankar. I was led to an office, and in the back room I met the man. Gita Bhavan is a HUGE complex on the Ganges, with over 1000 free rooms for pilgrims to stay in. Gauri Shankar runs this place, and here I am in his office. I present my idea to him in, and he pulls out a picture from his closet.

"You see this?" he says in Hindi. He points to the picture, in which a monk is holding a small candle near his navel. Right in front of the monk's heart, disconnected to the flame on the candle, is a small flame.

"This is a miracle," he says. "Have you ever see this? This light in someone's heart?"

"No, not with my eyes," I replied.

"Yes." He smiled. "This is the atman. This only shows when someone is completely pure. This is what we are." He grabbed my shirt, then pinched my skin saying, "This is all just clothing. We exist in here." He pointed to my heart.

I smiled. "So about my question," I blurted.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," he said. "You must talk to Sheksaria ji. He is the manager of the shop. If its okay with him, its okay with me."

I touched his feet, and turned towards the door. "God bless you," he said.

I worked my way back to the shop, which I realized is also called Gita Bhavan. I entered and asked for Sheksaria ji, only to find that he wasnt there and I had to come back around 4 pm.

So that afternoon I returned, and tracked down Sheksaria ji. I presented my offer again, and he threw his arm around me.

"Welcome," he said. "Come with me."

We walked upstairs into the kitchen and I was overwhelmed with a wave of amazing aromas and huge smiles. I shook hands with everyone, and met the head cook, Raju Singh.

"Come at 8 tomorrow morning. We'll make jalebi," he said.

So now I am working here, at Gita Bhavan Poori Mithai Dukaan. I started today, and it was really, really awesome. I have lots of pictures/videos already, but I will put it all in a separate post.

So that's Rishikesh so far. Its been pretty magical, I must say. As for the next few days, I'll just be meditating in the early morning and late nights, and making sweets all day. Sounds like a dream come true huh?

Hari AUM,
Daniel

Pahari Cuisine

2011-11-30T06:08:00.000-08:00

WHERE: DEHRADUN, UTTARAKHAND, INDIA

I think it says something that most of the best food I've had in India has been in the vicinity of Amrit Irani, my original Hindustani khana guru and mother of my current employer. I met up with her again in Dehradun and got to meet her 2 sisters, brother, mother, childhood friends, and other various relatives. The only thing Amrit and I bought while in Dehradun was a loaf of bread for our humble breakfast of eggs and toast. The rest of our days were filled with a delicious mixture of North Indian (specifically Pahari) cuisine brought over in tiffins and tupperware by her relatives and friends.

Amrit and her friend Rakesh

Pahari refers to the mountain people (pahar- mountain, hill) who inhabit most of Nepal, Himachal Pradesh, and Uttarakhand. They are mostly farmers and Amrit's family is no exception. They have a large farm near Haridwar but even in their village in Dehradun they keep big, lovely gardens...a tradition Amrit has taken to her home in Meherabad, Maharashtra. We were given fresh turmeric, ginger, garlic, onions, greens, milk, eggs, and much more during our stay, and a large portion of our meals were cooked by Amrit's sister Nina.

One of the cornerstones of Pahari cuisine is greens, and they are served with almost every meal. A speciality is Pahari palak, which is a tender soft spinach-like green indigenous to this area. You can see this in one of the pictures below. Greens are also made into chutneys, with another Pahari speciality being lasan patha (garlic leaf) chutney. The Dehradun area has an ideal climate...take fruit for example: they have trees billowing over with mangoes in the summer, bananas most of the year, and this time of year (winter) they have guavas, grapefruits and oranges. Before leaving I was given two lovely grapefruits and some wild sour oranges by a neighbor.

This region is also famous for sweets, as it is one of the largest sugar-cane producers in India. In my last post I posted some pictures of rasmalai and gajar/moong kaa halwa, and below you can see rasugulla which is like big balls of soft, pillowy paneer which sponge up a delicious sugar syrup scented with rose and kewda water.

Another highlight of Nina's Pahari cooking was her rotis. The roti is the infamous Indian flat-bread, usually made from whole-wheat flour. Nina's plain rotis were killer, but we also had makhi (corn flour) ki roti, roomaali ki roti (a huge, thin roti named after roomal, handkerchief), and mandua ki roti (made from a special type of flour from the moutain region which gives the roti a black color). The mandua ki roti with lasan patha chutney and butter make a simple, perfect meal.

roomaali roti

Okay, let me break this down. Starting from the left you can see the makhi ki roti, and clockwise from that you can see roomaali roti, pahari palak, thinchwani, daal/chawaal, butter paneer masala, lasan pathaa chutney, til-dhania chutney, and besan kadi. This is not a typical meal in that it is a huge slew of different things, but it would be the typical meal if, like our case, your Pahari friends brought over a bunch of food and you heated it all up and took little tid-bits of everything.

The thinchwani was one of my favorites. You basically take radish and potato and smash them while they are raw so the mush down into little bits. Meanwhile you make a masala with cumin, onion, ginger/garlic paste, tomato, and spices and let it cook nice and long. You then add the mashed veggies and some water and let it all boil until the veggies are tender. The result is thinchwani, and it is delicious.

I left Dehradun after eating the rest of the leftovers in the fridge, and hitch-hiked to Rishikesh with a sannyasi named Swami Lalgiri and his driver. I'm here now, and ate last night at the famous Chotiwalla's. I spoke with the staff about getting to come in the kitchen to work/learn and they were very enthusiastic. I am going back today to hear the boss' decision, so hopefully this will be my first success in infiltrating and real big-time Indian kitchen. I'm staying in the Kriya Yoga ashram for a few days, so if I am allowed to come in the kitchen @ Chotiwallas I'll start a few days from now.

I'll leave you with a picture from my first night in Rishikesh, of the sun setting over the Ganga.

D

ps: for more on Pahari cuisine click here.

Shimla, "Queen of the Hills" to Dehradun

2011-11-23T22:39:00.000-08:00

WHERE: SHIMLA, HIMACHAL PRADESH, INDIA

Everything about Himachal Pradesh feels very familiar. The first time I saw Chhatri Chor I felt connected to this area, and this state is in my opinion the best I've seen in India so far. Its got the mountain feeling: the striped sweaters, windy roads, big green pines, breathtaking views, slow paced living, and cool clean air. I feel like I've been here before. It is also very very clean, and the Himachal government has some good intiatives going to preserve the beauty of this area.

I arrived in Shimla via bus from Dharamsala on Tuesday evening, and met some CouchSurfing friends named Nittin and Toni at the station. Nittin grew up here, and we are staying with his lovely family just above the city. Upon our arrival I received my first home-cooked meal since Bhilai, which is something I have been really, really needing. Eating in restaurants all the time is a drag and, as we've seen, not always good for you.

Wednesday morning we hiked up the hill from Nittin's house to a spectacular Hanuman temple on top of the mountain. The locals have a story that Hanuman stayed a night on this hilltop while moving through the mountains, and there has been a temple here since then. At the peak they have this grand bust of Hanuman, which is frequented by playful monkeys throughout the day.

We went in the temple (pictures not allowed), had prasad, and began our descent down the other side of the mountain towards a bus stop.

We took the bus to Tattapani, which is in the valley where the Shimla and Mandi provinces meet. Tatta is a Punjabi word for hot, and pani means water. The area is named this due to its natural sulfur hot springs. Upon arriving we hitched a ride from town towards Shiva Cave, which is a small cave filled with naturally occurring shivalingam tucked deep in this beautiful valley.

path leading to the cave

next to the cave

As we began the trek inwards, Nittin told us the story behind this cave. Apparently a villager in the area had a vivid dream about a cave filled with shivalingams, and upon telling the other villagers was told he was just dreaming, that it could not be.

He began looking and eventually found the cave, which is truly other-worldly. The feeling in there was indescribable, and the only sound was the natural pooja occuring as water dripped from the ceiling onto the lingams. I did not want to take a picture of it, but this will prove that it exists:

"Om namah Shivaaya"

Shiva-gufaa mandir

Saraur

We hitched another ride back to Tattapani and sat next to the Satluj river, enjoying some really really good chai. Toni and I hopped in the hot-spring tub, relaxing and talking to some locals. Hes a great guy from Germany, who is half Indian and coming here for the first time to meet some relatives and see the land where they came from. He's got a heart of gold, and I hope we meet up again while we are in India.

Toni sipping chai on the Satluj

After a leisurely afternoon in Tattapani we headed to the bus station, only to find that our bus wasn't coming for 2 1/2 hours. We decided to trek up the mountain and catch the bus from the road later on instead of sitting and waiting at the stop.

We walked uphill for 2 hours or so and as it got dark stopped at a small farm-house for water. We got directions to the road and kept walking. After a while it was completely dark and as we walked with cell-phone light we were beginning to wonder where we were and if we would make it to the road. Or even where the road was... I watched all of the paranoia sprout in my mind and it all seemed so silly. We all just decided to enjoy walking, and after we finally found the road we got a ride back to Shimla (within minutes) via a very skilled mountain driver, putting us there much quicker than the bus would have.

On the way back this amazing bhajan came on, and the driver played it twice because I liked it so much:

On Thursday I explored Shimla proper. This city was built by the British Raj and was the Summer capital. A lot of neo-gothic buildings remain from this time, giving the city a very interesting feel. It is a calm, easy paced place. Most people traverse on foot and have a peaceful disposition. It doesn't have the lingering discomfort and uneasiness that I've experienced in other Indian cities, and I did not see hardly any homeless people or beggars. The weather was spectacular: cool nights and warm, clear days and the mountain air was refreshing and healing.

I really like Shimla. Did you get that already???? I will definitely visit this place again, and could even see myself living here for a period of time. I was sad leaving but needed to get going in order to meet Amrit here in Dehradun, where I am now. Between Shimla and Dehradun I stayed a night in Nahan, Himachal Pradesh. I took the lovely and reliable Himachal bus service and arrived around 7 pm:

On the bus I met a guy who lived in Nahan, and he got me set up in an Hindu ashram downtown for RS 40/night. It was minimal, but all I needed for an overnight stay. The highlight of Nahan was the Ranital gardens, encircling a 300 year old Shiva temple.

I arrived in Dehradun and waited for Amrit at Dehradun's famous Kumar Sweets in Ghanta Ghar. While waiting I made the difficult decision of choosing what to eat, though I ended up going with these:

top: gajar ka halwa, below: moong daal halwa

kesar rasmalai

They were both literally ridiculously amazingly tasty and wonderful. Indian sweets are a whole 'nother world to explore, and I would really like to dive in. Im hoping to get in good with a halwai soon and learn the ropes, but as of late I have not been anywhere long enough to do so.

Its been nice to hang out with Amrit and relax, and I had lots of fun yesterday with her nephews exploring the forests and sugarcane fields near their village:

Vasu poppin' a wheelie

Abhi, Vasu, Deva, and Wardin

playing in the sugarcane

Amrit's front yard in Dehradun, opposite a Meher Baba mandir

I made methi chicken for lunch, which chicken from Amrit's brother and methi, fresh haldi, ginger, and garlic from her sister). I forgot to take a nice picture of it while it was on a plate. Here are the leftovers!

We've just been taking it easy here in Dehradun. I just came into town to use internet and am making some plans for traveling through the state of Uttarakhand. I will be here until December 15, when I come back to Dehradun to fly to Chennai.

Thanks for reading! lots of love, Daniel

Dharamsala, MeCleod Ganj, Bhagsu

2011-11-20T01:25:00.000-08:00

WHERE: MECLEOD GANJ, HIMACHAL PRADESH, INDIA

I arrived in MeCleod Ganj last night after quite an eventful ride and some stomach trouble. I left Mr. Singh's farm paradise around 10 am, and headed for the bus station in Amritsar. I meant to post a picture of his place in my last post, but I'll just put it up now:

Reshma and the cooks shredding some mustard for sarson ka saag

My extra day there was lots of fun. I got to drive the motorcycle with Reshma, do more Bhangra dancing, meet some other travelers, and get some extra sleep. I had some bananas before leaving, and then ate an aloo paratha near the bus station. Both were fine.

The bus ride to Dharamsala was about 7 1/2 hours. It took longer than expected because we had to take a lot of detours to get around traffic. After Pathankot we started to climb the mountains, and I was filled with joy to be in India and in mountains at the same time.

By the time we reached Dharamsala station my stomach was grumbling. There were taxis going to MeCleod Ganj for RS 200 but there was also a bus for RS 10. I opted for the bus, which left me with about an hour and a half to kill. I noticed a canteen above the bus station and decided to check it out.
The food seemed simple...roti, daal, and rajma (red kidney beans). I ordered a plate and ate, and had a intuitive suspicion about the food as I ate,. I tried to ignore it and think positive because I was really hungry.
I walked back down to sit on a bench at the bus station and started feeling a little woozy. I got up and walked around, thinking that might help me digest. I started talking with a group of travelers and was feeling a little better...but then the nausea came on double-time as I tried to carry on a conversation with a very enthusiastic girl from China who had lots of questions for me. I snuck away and continued walking around, and everywhere I looked there was food. On signs, on the tv, in people's hands....and it all made me quiver. I knew this was not good.

The bus came and I decided to get on since I would have to get to MeCleod Ganj to get a hotel (there are hardly any in Dharamsala). As we started moving I knew that it would not be long before I yuked everywhere, so I strategically placed myself near a window in a dark part of the bus. I sat hunched over, praying that I could just hold it in until the bus ride was over so that I did not disturb or freak anyone out...but that was not happening. About half way through the ride I opened the window and let it rip, heaving up all kinds of goodness.

I don't think anyone noticed. Which I am really happy about. And if they did they had the common decency to leave me alone. I immediately felt a lot better, but the lingering weakness and nausea continued through the night.

I followed some people who had been to MeCleod before to a hotel called Hotel Ladies Venture (which is for men and women). The receptionist was really cool and helpful, and told us all to just go to sleep and we could do our paperwork in the morning.

The next morning I felt better than I have in a long time. I think that along with that sketchy rice, daal, and rajma I got rid of some lingering toxins in my body. I shared this story for that very reason. A lot of people are afraid of getting sick in India, but for me I actually ended up feeling better after it. I don't think that is always the case though, and I am grateful that this was not a 3-4 day binge of incapacitation.

That next morning I walked up to Bhagsu and found an amazing hotel room for RS 200/night ($4). I walked from there to a lovely waterfall nearby, and took a dip in the frigid water with a brave soul from the Punjab. I think we were the only people who got in the water...

View from Bhagsu road

waterfall in Bhagsu

the view from my hotel window

MeCleod Ganj is not what I expected. It is very, very touristy. The streets are lined with bus/taxi booking agents, Italian-Mexican-Indian-Chinese-Israeli all-in-one restaurants, touristy shops, and sketchy people trying to sell drugs. There is probably an equal ratio of Tibetan refugees, locals, Indian tourists, and foreigners....which makes it quite an interesting place. I have met a lot of really awesome people here but was feeling a bit bummed today about the fate of this area. As you walk on the outskirts you see more hotels being constructed, and the area seems to look more and more like a warren of concrete.

I felt responsible for it in a way; that people like me had come here and changed this area so dramatically (and ironically into something that is no longer so pleasing). I met a woman from Germany last night who had not been here in 20 years, and said upon her arrival she was in complete shock at the difference.

This brought on a whole onslaught of travel philosophy in my mind. It basically comes down to the idea that at the end of the day, whether I like it or not, I am a tourist. No one wants to feel this way. We all want to go somewhere exotic and be the only foreigner there...to be embraced by the locals and interact with them on a personal level, not a business one. I have definitely experienced this in India, in places where not a lot of tourists go. But I think at a certain point it becomes inevitable that places become 'touristy', which led me to think that the best thing I can do for a place like Dharamsala is to just not go (which is kind of silly).

I remember my friend Joe telling me one day that the best thing to do is just stay home. He meant this in many ways, referring to localized food and economy but also to minding your own business. I felt guilty thinking about this today, feeling like I was contributing to this place losing its original charm. But change is the name of the game, and I decided that the best thing to do was prove myself wrong.

I had seen some cool areas off-shooting from the waterfall trail and decided to go exploring. To go away from where all the people were. This is what I found:

I sat in this area for a while, letting my mind run itself empty and eventually realized (as I do when my mind is empty) that everything is fine. Its fine. Its all temporary really, and its impersonal. It is what it is. And I just happen to be here. Thats It. Om.

And as long as I dont go around paying enormous amounts of money for meditation-chakra balancing-past life regression-massage classes, imported cheap scarves, taxi rides, Mexican food, hotel rooms, and drugs then I am doing my little part to not support those things. And, for me, when I turn around and stop looking at all these shops and hawkers I see this beautiful landscape and remember how blessed I am even to be here.

India has stinging nettle also! Or some crazy thing like it which is bigger and spikier.
I'm not sure if anyone eats it like we do, but Id like to find out. I might have to send this one to Blankespoor and find out.

As for food here, the options are limitless. My favorite place (which I have had 3 meals at) is Gayki, a Tibetan vegetarian hole-in-the-wall run by an old Tibetan woman.
I had everything from tsampa to momos to their take on muesli which is cornflakes and puffed rice with honey, bananas, papaya, and yogurt. It was actually really good. Their chai is unsweetened but nonetheless delicious.

There is a lot that I have not seen in this area (museums, trekking spots, etc.), but I am leaving tomorrow to go to Shimla and meet a CouchSurfing friend named Nitin. I am staying with his family there and he has offered to take me around to some places in Himachal Pradesh. I need to be in Dehradun on the 26th, otherwise I would stay here longer and see some more things. Perhaps I will come back in the spring and give it another chance!

Thats all for now. Peace

Funjab

2011-11-16T22:30:00.000-08:00

WHERE: AMRITSAR, PUNJAB, INDIA

That's right. The Funjab. I punned the Punjab 'cause its so fun. My immediate impression of the Punjabi people (Sikhs in general) is that they are happy, welcoming, fun, and friendly. We arrived via the Garib Rath Express, which we almost missed. Jai and I were at Nizzamudin Station in Delhi an hour early but it wasnt until 5 min before our train's scheduled departure that we realized we were at the wrong station. We ran outside, caught the first cab, flew to New Delhi Station, ran through security, boogied to our platform and LO! There was a train waiting. As I looked for my section I realized that it was non-existent, and assumed that we had missed the train. I looked around and saw tons of Sikhs and knew that they must be going to Amritsar (their holy land). I asked and discovered that our train was late. 3 hours late. So Jai and I celebrated with cardamom creme cookies.

train station in Delhi

We are staying with a man named Narinderjit Singh who has a farmhouse about 13 km outside of the city of Amritsar. We found him through CouchSurfing. We arrived late because of our train, so we got to our room and went straight to sleep.

We awoke to find ourselves in a sort of farm-castle-resort. We were taken by tractor to the main road and caught a ride-share rickshaw into Amritsar. After a breakfast of vegetable pulao and laccha paratha we walked to the Golden Temple.

This place is amazing. I remember Isaac Clay telling me about how welcomed he felt at the Golden Temple and I must agree. I felt like I belonged there. We got some sooji rava to offer for prasad and got in the long queue waiting to get into the main temple.

What I really liked was that the entire temple was open to everyone. In other temples Ive visited in India the really good, old, special parts are closed and locked. Off limits. Only a select few are allowed in there for super-special ceremonies. But not here. I found this 'everyone's welcome' attitude to be reinforced once I met Mr. Singh.

from the upstairs interior of the temple

We got back that evening around 7pm, and talked with Reshma for a while. Shes a lovely Punjabi women who works for Mr. Singh.

Reshma

I wondered into the kitchen and started talking with the cooks. They were all Nepali, and had been hired by Mr. Singh to run the farmhouse as their very own so he didn't have to worry about it. They were frying some onions for aloo gobi, and I hopped in and started cooking with them:

the cooks

The aloo gobi was made really plain at first, so that a non-spicy batch could be kept aside. I did not realize that when we took this video, but afterwards they added ginger, coriander, cumin, chili powder, and cilantro. It tasted really good without that stuff too. In this video you can see my childlike excitement:

[NOTE: THIS VIDEO WOULD NOT UPLOAD, WILL TRY TO POST LATER]

After a while in the kitchen I wandered outside and finally met the infamous Mr. Singh. He is a quiet, confident man with a lovely smile. He told me the story of his family farm, his history with couchsurfing, and revealed to me more about the Sikh faith.

"We are just natural. We dont cut our hair, and we are Sikh. We dont cut our penis (circumcision) and we are Sikh. Its all no problem. We have no problem. Just natural."

I asked about the 'goal' of the Sikh faith, in terms of the devotees relationship with God.

"There is one God. Its all enlightenment all the time. We just give thanks for this day. For good health and good life. We are just natural. Yeah we will fight, we will kill. But only if someone threatens our peace. We fight for peace. That is all. Its no problem."

He smiled, and beckoned someone to bring turbans over. Jai resisted but I obliged, and Mr. Singh tied it for me:

Oh and did I mention that there were Bhangra dancers there? Yeah, there were. And yes I joined them. They taught me some of their dance moves and then we hung out together after their show. I had trouble uploading the video of me dancing because it is quite long, but just take my word for it.

No one here speaks English. Their native language is Punjabi and they all know some Hindi. I am so thankful that I am able to speak with them, and recommend learning Hindi to anyone traveling to India. A lot of people know some English (especially in cities), but being able to speak with people in their language is invaluable. And truthfully the real India is not in the cities, its in the villages. And there no one speaks English. I have met only a few people here in the Punjab who speak English. Speaking Hindi in Amritsar has allowed me to get a ride on a tractor, a ride in a car with some crazy guys, a free cab ride through Amritsar, discounts at internet cafes, make lots and lots of friends and has helped to deter unwanted touts.

I went back to the temple on Thursday to experience its legendary kitchen. It, like the temple, is open 24/7 and has been for 300 years. It has never closed, and they feed around 100,000 people a day. It is run completely by volunteers:

lots of people need lots of plates

waiting for the food

You basically get a plate, a bowl, and a spoon. You go in and sit in a line and wait as men walk around with buckets and baskets of food and drop/ladle it onto your plate. You can eat as much as you want. Our meal was roti, sabji, black gram, and kheer.

After you eat you walk out and deposit your plate. Around the dish area there are people wandering around with hot chai and steel bowls, which they fill at your desire. Surrounding the kitchen are masses of people cutting vegetables, washing dishes, and helping in any way needed. Ive been craving kitchen work, so I naturally went straight for the dicing onions station:

we cut a lot of onions

---

I have lots of sweet videos of cooking both from here and Pahar Ganj but am having trouble uploading them. My apologies.

I was supposed to leave Amritsar today (Friday). I had a plan, dammit. But for some reason I am staying another day. Everyone here asked me to stay longer and a set of suspiciously synchronistic events conviced me to ditch my attachment to plans and go with the flow. Tomorrow (I think) I am going to Dharamsala, then a taxi up to MeCleod Ganj where I will stay for a few days. My Indian travel guru Roli has been a big help with that area, and I owe her lots and lots of thank-you's for her help and friendship. It has been difficult to update the blog as internet cafes are sparse and the internet is 'intermittent and slow'. This post has been written for a while but it took a bit to upload the pictures and videos. I will do my best to keep the blog updated (for your viewing and my own documentation), but bear with me if it takes a while for updates.

big love,
Daniel

Reflections of Delhi

2011-11-14T06:26:00.000-08:00

WHERE: PAHAR GANJ, NEW DELHI, INDIA

I don't really like Delhi. I'll be honest. Just now I am in an internet cafe listening to a woman from San Francisco argue with an Indian leather-worker about how something she ordered is a month late. She keeps yelling, "the sample is in America" and pointing to pictures on the screen. The guy is keeping his cool, being patient with her temper-tantrum. I had dinner with a girl from California and her boyfriend from Canada. I had tea with a French man who lives half of the year in Tibet. I chatted with a Swiss guy who has been coming to Pahar Ganj since the 80s. Ive been offered hash, women, and the BEST QUALITY deals. Ive spent a large part of my time in transit, on buses, trains, and in rickshaws. I've pushed my way through crowds to get on metros, fixed a copier in a hotel, and seen a man with no legs and one arm turn a crank that moved a bike piled high with cargo down a busy Chandni Chowk street.

There are a lot of beautiful places here, and this area is filled with history. One of my favorite places we went was Humayun's Tomb:

It is the burial place of the 3rd Mughal Emperor Humayun. It is quite a sight, and the quiet, clean grounds surrounding it were a nice respite from the craziness around. I am not trying to give Delhi a bad name, because a lot of people really love this city. But its not for me. I have not spent much time in big, bustling cities--whether in USA or abroad. So being here has been a challenge for me.

Yesterday Jai hung out with his lady friend in Ghaziabad and I took the opportunity to spend my first day in a while by myself. While in Bhilai I was constantly under the family's supervision (a trademark of Indian hospitality) so having a day on my own was much needed. I took the day to sleep, meditate, walk around, and read.

Today we came from Ghaziabad to the heart of Delhi: Pahar Ganj. Its just off the New Delhi stop on the metro, and is quite an interesting place. A haven for hotels, restaurants, and shops...so therefore lots of tourists. But I don't really feel like I fit in here. Tomorrow we head to Amritsar and then into the mountains of Himachal Pradesh...Dharamsala, Manali, Kullu, and Shimla. More up my alley. But being here has been quite an experience in seeing this side of humanity, and has been an eye opener into how blessed I am and what is important to me.

---

I will say that there is a lot of really tasty food in Delhi, and some of the best rice and daal I've ever had was in my room from the hotel's restaurant. Below are some pictures highlighting the meals:

Rava dosa, sambar, coconut chutney, dhania chutney, tomato/pyaaj chutney

lacchaa paratha

daal chaval from the hotel

plain dosa

vegetable pulao and bhindi masala (maza aa gaya)

saag paneer and tandoori roti

---

My health is good, I'm happy, I still meditate every day, I sleep well, and I have not been robbed. Everything is OK. Lots of love,

Daniel

Ekadashi/Guru Nanak Jayanti

2011-11-07T08:33:00.000-08:00

WHERE: GHAZIABAD, UTTAR PRADESH, INDIA

Jai's uncle (Chacha ji) took Shailendra and I to Durg to celebrate Ekadashi and Guru Nanak Jayanti. Both festivals happened to fall on the same day this year.

Ekadashi happens 11 days after Diwali, and its basically like a Diwali aftershock. The rangoli comes back out, the deepak get lit, and, of course, little kids fill the streets and shoot off fireworks that are illegal in the USA. All night long.

When I say illegal in the USA I mean that some of these things are like landmines:

Also on Ekadashi people worship the goddess Durga as well as the plant tulsi, offering up the freshly harvested sugar cane for prasad.

Guru Nanak Jayanti is the celebration of the first Sikh guru's birthday, so Durg was filled with people celebrating both festivals. There were so many things happening at once that I could not really keep up with what was going on, but it was SO MUCH FUN.

Jai's friend Ramesh invited us over for lunch the other day. He, his Mom, and his brother made us a FEAST of palak paneer, aloo gobi, methi poori, pulao, daal, papad, raita (with boondi in it), and fresh kachumber. Here's a video of his Mom frying some pooris:

And here is a video of Ma making coconut chutney for our lovely dosa breakfast yesterday. My camera ran out of space at the end so I didn't capture the dosa making (though you can see her stirring the batter), but this chutney was simple and delicious:

Yesterday was my last day in Bhilai, and it was sad to say goodbye to everyone.

I should give a special thanks to Jagdish (Chacha ji, pictured above) who took me all over Bhilai, Raipur and Durg showing me temples, food and every person he knew. His family made dinner my last night in Bhilai:

pulao, aloo goobi, methi sabzi, daal, and kheer

It was delicious, though Indian's don't seem to understand the concept of "Seriously, that's enough. I can't eat anymore" when it comes to their guests. They just think you are being shy. But you have to clean your plate. You have to.

Before dinner we went to a very old Jain temple in a village called Nagpura on the outskirts of Bhilai. They did not allow photography in the temple but I got a nice clip of the Indian countryside from the bike on the way there:

Ma teared up the night before we left, and told me to make sure I called her often. I was really feeling at home there. The neighborhood kids called me bhaiyaa, I knew my way around, and I had a nice home and family. But, it is time to hit the road again, and I have just arrived in Ghaziabad on the outskirts of Delhi.
My first (and brief) impression of Delhi is "oh, God". It is extremely crowded, dusty, dirty and loud. It was not really on my list of places to see in India, but it is a necessary stop in order to get to other places. We are staying in Ghaziabad so Jai can see a friend of his, but I think I will get some rest and then head to some famous places in the area since I am here.

from the heart, Daniel
ॐ

Famous

2011-11-05T04:27:00.000-07:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

we're famous

This was in today's paper, the Navbhaarat. Below is an English translation of the article. I need to give a bit of disclaimer before you read it though.

For some reason when I arrived in Bhilai Jai's Mom insisted that I tell people that I was the manager of a hotel. In India hotel is synonymous with restaurant, so perhaps she got it mixed up. Or perhaps she thought 'cook' was an undignified profession. I have not been able to determine why this happened but she said that since she had already told lots of people that, I should go along with it. I disagreed and said "why should it matter if you told people the wrong profession, I will just correct the mistake." We 'compromised' by telling everyone that I am a meditation teacher, which is my side-job. (the fact that we compromised makes me think her reason was 'the latter)

This is fine, but I really wish I could have talked about Chai Pani to the paper. It would have been SO awesome to have Chai Pani written up in an Indian newspaper.....but maybe I will have the chance to make that happen some other time.

Also, I didn't say some of the things they said I did, and they didn't publish a lot of what I said. But I think that always happens with newspapers...

Here is the translation:

American Youth Arrives in Bhilai, Keeps Friendship BHILAI NAGAR- If you have a friendship, even if its on Facebook, you should keep it. To keep the value of friendship Daniel Peach, an American citizen, has come to Bhilai. His desire to learn Hindi has brought him to India. Born and raised in America, the 22 year old has been interested in Yoga and meditation for some time. After arriving in Bhilai last Sunday he told Navbhaarat that his friendship began 6 months ago when he met Bhilai's Jaikishan on a language learning website. After that the friendship transferred to Facebook, and they spoke with each other on the internet often. The friendship was so deep that Daniel came to meet Jaikishan in Bhilai. Jaikishan taught Daniel Hindi on a website called italki. Daniel is a citizen of America's Asheville, North Carolina and there teaches meditation to 15-year-olds. He will learn more about the art of meditation during his journey in India. The two people from different countries have quite similar interests. They both like reading books, traveling, and watching movies. Daniel told us that he came to India for 6 months to deepen his understanding of Yoga. During this trip he will visit several cities and states and meet people knowledgeable about meditation and Yoga. A spiritual person, Daniel the Indians in America mostly work in computer related professions and he enjoys meeting them and tasting their food. Don't Be Lost in Modernization In Sector 4, Street 14, 15-E (I can't believe they posted his address in the paper) Daniel said that "Indian youth are lost in the race of modernization. Indian youth should recognize their traditions." In regards to corruption, Daniel said, "it is present in every country, but it is talked about more in India." In America, people get their duties done by being disciplined. He told us that India Against Corruption's Anna Hazare was quite praised in his homeland and that, "this was a great step in putting the reigns on corruption." Jaikishan's mom Indira said that "several people are coming over to the house to meet the foreign visitor and we feel proud." Daniel calls her 'Ma' and Indira considers him to be her third son. He stands, sits, and walks like an Indian. Jai's mom also feels that they were all relatives in a past life.

I did, however, get Rajesh Choudhary, the political representative for Jai's sector as well as the man who brought the reporters over, to taste my sambar. Below is a video of his lovely reaction, and some pictures of the breakfast:

Ma making idlis
offering up some idlis and sambar for prasad

It has been lots of fun cooking with Ma. She kept telling me how khushboodar (aromatic, lovely scented) my sambar masala was, though I owe that to Sanjay from Vah re Vah. Below are some pictures of food, as well as some of the last several days in Bhilai.

idli sambar

my sambar masala cooking away (so awesome to be able to use fresh coconut)

atta halwa

poha

daal, chawal, kheer, papad

---

Jai's brother Shailendra is also into astrology, so we had lots of fun looking at birthcharts

Ma and I after she took me to the Sai Baba mandir for aarti

bananas for sale by Jai's house (still on the branch!)

young chaat-walla selling cholle, pani puri, and tikkia

they are like that only

Jai's brother, Shailendra, demonstrating how to drink from a 'water pouch'

Some traditional dancers at the Chhattisgarh State Festival in Raipur
---

The other day I was walking around Jai's neighborhood and met a lovely Sikh man in his garden. I asked if I could come in the gate and look around and he happily obliged, showing me all of his plants. The garden was filled with the smell of tulsi, curry leaves, and bananas. He invited me in and we talked for a while.

When I got back home Mom asked me where I had been. We I told her she insisted that I show her the house, so we walked back over there. I led the way, and she kept joking about how a foreigner had come to her home and was now telling her where to go in her own neighborhood.
The man welcomed us again, and gave Ma some baby Rama tulsi and Krishna tulsi, as well as a some baby 'water flowers'. We gave him a big thanks, and walked home. We were about a block from the house when he pulled up on a moped and handed us 3 guavas, saying "Sorry, I forgot to give you these too".

Ma checking out the 'water flower'

I am the only white person in Bhilai in the moment. This has its ups and downs. Today while walking to the store some kids came up to me to ask where I was from. I told them, then asked for a lift on the back of one of their bicycles to the store. They took me there and back. I also can strike up conversations with anyone, which has led to meeting some really interesting people.

On the other hand I get tired of playing 'foreigner' and just want to be part of the crowd. The staring doesn't bother me (I just try to stare longer, and usually win), but when people ask me to sing for them or bludgeon me with questions I start to feel worn out. I was thinking the other day how crazy it must be to be famous......and then I ended up in the newspaper!

I'm definitely missing home, and as I sit here now I am listening to some Gillian Welch on Youtube to cure the sickness. Luckily Jai's family has taken me in as their own, and I can feel at home here for now.

Everything is going well though, and Im in the process of making some plans for travel in North India during the latter part of November. As usual, a lot more has happened than I can type about, but luckily pictures can do a lot of the talking.
Lots of love,
Daniel

Upma

2011-11-02T01:37:00.001-07:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

This morning Jai's Mom prepared upma for breakfast.
We walked down to the garden outside their house to pick curry leaves for it:

Upma is a common South Indian breakfast, made with sooji (semolina flour). In this video Mom adds a little ginger, chile, moong daal, curry leaves, mustard seed, cumin seed, and salt. She had roasted her sooji until golden the day before. Before we ate she drizzled some ghee on top and garnished with ground sesame seeds and chili powder. You can imagine how delicious it was:

Moving forward

2011-10-30T07:16:00.000-07:00

WHERE: BHILAI, CHHATTISGARH, INDIA

तो डैनिएल कहाँ है? मैं भिलाई में हूँ, मेरे दोस्त जय के साथ। इसको कौन पढ़ सकते हैं? मुझे नहीं मालूम। लेकिन अगर आप इसको पढ़ सकते हैं तो आपको मालूम होगा कि भारत जादुई हैं। मैं बहुत खुश हूँ कि मैं यहाँ हूँ, और मुझे ख़ुशी है कि मैं आप के साथ इस ब्लॉग को बाँट सकता हूँ।

I said goodbye to Meherabad yesterday, but not to Meher Baba. To all you BLs: I understand now. Jai Baba.
Before leaving I took some pictures of the MPR's kitchen

the main cooking area

making roti and bhakri

peeling and seeding tomatoes

Monday's lunch: roti, daal, chaawal, aloo, groundnut baingan masala, chaach, aur thoda talaa hua pyaaj
---

I made it to Bhilai after a 17 hour bus ride with RAJ TOURS AND TRAVELS. The ride was actually not that bad, as I slept most of the time. I awoke to the sun rising over northern Maharashtrian farmland, watching the village-people wake up and begin their day. I saw a lot of people pooping by the road.

I heard mixed reviews about sleeper-bus travel in India, but my experience was overall good. The only problem is that the buses dont have bathrooms and I enjoy staying well hydrated. After holding in my pee for literally over 2 hours, I solved this problem by pouring my water out the window and peeing in my water bottle. After that it was smooth sailing, and I spent the last leg of the ride up front with the drivers

The sleeper berths look like some kind of crazy kinky kama-sutra hotel room bed:

The drivers dropped me in Bhilai where I sat to wait for Jai. I was immediately surrounded by a swarm of very cute Indian kids. A little girl handed me a cup of chai and I bought a round of bananas from the kelawala next to us. They kept me company while I waited.

Jai picked me up and we took his motorcycle back to his home. Bhilai is known for its huge steel plant (BSP), which is owned by the Chhattisgarh government. Most of the residents here have some connection with the plant, and there are lots of government houses/parks. The residential areas are very clean and quiet, and Jai's house is lovely.

When I arrived his angelic Mom (Indira) made us poha. I bathed, napped, had some chai, and next thing I knew she handed me a plate of rice, daal, aloo sabji, amla achaar, and dahi. Everything was delicious, and she is amazing. She has a truly beautiful soul that effortlessly shines, and a highly contagious smile. And as I mentioned, shes a bangin' cook. I hope to spend some good time with her in the kitchen over the next 10 days.

masala chai with chevda

She made me some tulsi chai this morning and then I went for a walk in the cool Bhilai morning. Just a block from Jai's house is a beautiful Jagannath temple. I went in and paid my respects, then received some fresh coconut prasaad.

When I got home Ma had cooked us a breakfast of poori sabji:

That's about it for now. I think we are going to go to Raipur today then go to aarti at the Sai Baba mandir in Bhilai. We'll be here for a little over a week, then Jai and I are headed to Delhi to start our travels of north India. I'll do my best to keep you posted.

so much Love, Daniel ॐ

Final Days in Meherabad

2011-10-27T21:00:00.001-07:00

MEHERABAD, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

Diwali is coming to an end, and I am gearing up to head to Bhilai, Chhattisgarh to see my friend Jai. Roli helped me sort out my travel arrangements and I will be leaving Meherabad tomorrow afternoon.

शुभ दिवाली !!

Diwali is the Indian "festival of lights", occurring on the new-moon between October and November. This year the official date was 26 October, but the event is stretched out for several days. It is largely celebrated in India with firecrackers and oil candles called deepak. You can see a great slideshows of Diwali photos on Huffington Post

There are several religious 'reasons' for Diwali. The two I have heard the most are 1) It represents Lord Rama's return after his banishment from Ayodhya and defeat over the demon Ravaana; 2) It represents the anniversary of the Jain's Lord Mahavira's enlightenment. The reasons go on and on, though the real spiritual significance is the 'awakening of the inner-light'. It is a common idea in many Indian religions (especially Hindu religions) that there is an Eternal, all-pervading Light which is the essence of all that is. This is called Brahman or Paramatman. It is the soul-of-souls. The lighting of candles and fireworks celebrates the awakening of this inner light which, when perceived, dispels all darkness and results in Supreme peace and truth.

With there being no sort of religious affiliation with Meher Baba's teachings, Diwali is celebrated here as a celebration of that inner-light. The entire pilgrim-center was decorated with garlands of fresh flowers, candles, and rangoli.

Another big part of Diwali is the food, of course. Sweets abound, with karongi (semolina/coconut/cashew sweet puff pastry things friend in ghee), pedas, barfi, ladoos, etc. Amrit made a 'traditional Diwali meal' which consisted of pooris, aloo masala, bhindi masala, dahi besan kadi, and karela.

The overall spirit of Diwali is one joyousness and open-heartedness, making it a wonderful time to be here in Mother India.

---

A few days ago I went to Meherazad, the place of Meher Baba's residence for over 20 years. Some of his mandali still live here, and we all sat and listened to them relate stories of their experiences with Baba. While there, I hiked up Seclusion Hill, where Baba would often fast and spend time alone. The view of the Deccan Plateau was amazing, and I took some time to sit up there and take in the view and peaceful silence.

---

I spent Diwali evening with Kusum, who has since left to go back to Pune. I enjoy eating with her because she always eats in silence, taking time to focus on her food. After our meal we talked for a while and she shared with me more of her humble wisdom. She reinforced her teaching of 'understanding how the mind works' and gave me some advice on traveling in India.

One important point she made that has stuck with me is that, "No matter where you go in India, or anywhere, all you will see is shapes and colors. Shapes and colors. Don't lose sight of the knowledge that happiness is not in these, but in their Source."

Kusum and I

The last two weeks in Meherabad and Ahmednagar have been lovely. I have benefited greatly from being on this sacred piece of Earth and from meeting the wonderful people I 've encountered here. I am looking forward to the next phase of my journey, though I am truly beginning to experience that it does not matter where I go or what I do-- nothing really changes.
India's age old teaching is to investigate that changeless reality- to peer into It until you realize that it is your very Self. To know that it is the only reality, the omnipresent essence of everything. To realize, through complete absorption in It, that you never were the ego, the mind, or the limited self; that you were always one with God, and that God alone exists.

ॐ

Update from Meherabad

2011-10-24T04:37:00.000-07:00

WHERE: MEHERABAD, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

The past few days in Meherabad have been wonderful. The days sort of blend together here since there is hardly any need to pay attention to time. I am at Alan Wagner's house right now, updating my blog while simultaneously making ambakalia: a Parsi mango sauce. It is not mango season but Alan froze some of the best mangoes from this year for our late-October pleasure. More on this in the next post...

I am going to start this blog with a thought-of-three in honor of my dear Sanaz's blog:

THREE AMAZING PEOPLE I MET THIS WEEK:

1. ROLI
I met Roli ji through couchsurfing. We had planned to meet up in Pune but between her busy schedule and my cold it did not work out. I suggested that she come to Meherabad and she did. We spent the day together walking around and talking about our respective lives and philosophies. I think that coming to Meherabad was a much-needed break for her from her busy life in Pune, and it was a treat for me to make a new friend. I hope to make it to her wedding in February and see her family's farm in Noor-nagar while I am in India.
This is Roli in the rickshaw with me while we were on our way to the Ahmednagar train station. While there, we met:

2. KOMAL
While Roli and I were waiting for her train back to Pune there was an adorable young girl walking around where we were sitting. We beckoned her over to talk with us and she shyly obliged. I tried to give her some American flag stickers, and Roli tried to give her prasad from Baba's samadhi. She refused our gifts but hung around and talked with us for a bit. While Roli was handing her the prasad I snapped this awesome picture:
Komal means soft in Hindi, but Komal to komal nahin hai. There was dirt caked onto her skin; her clothes were old and worn, her feet bare and calloused--but her penetrating green eyes glowed with a wisdom beyond her years and we could not help but love her.
It turns out that Komal and her father sell flowers to people outside of temples everyday. While her father goes into town to buy the flowers, Komal stays at the Ahmednagar train station--by herself (she's 9 by the way). I think that she didn't want to accept things from us because she did not want to jeopardize here chances of being able to stay there by appearing to be begging from people. Before we left though, Roli lovingly slipped her some money for ice cream.

3. Kusum
A few days ago a woman at the Meher Pilgrim Center made eye contact with me and smiled. I knew immediately that I was going to have some kind of transformational interaction with her. While Roli and I were eating breakfast on Sunday I saw her sitting alone and decided that at tea-time I would go sit with her. That afternoon she was sitting alone on the patio drinking her chai and I walked out and asked to sit.

We shared a deep spiritual connection and she awoke something within me that I cannot put into words. I cannot even put my gratitude for it into words.

Of the two talks we had yesterday the summary of her teaching is this:

Watch the mind and understand how it works. Once you understand how it works, you are its Master. Once you have mastered the mind, return it to its Source and the realization of Eternal Truth will blossom.

That concludes my thoughts of three.

Yesterday while awaking from a nap I heard someone outside my door playing guitar and singing in Spanish. I went out and asked for another song and he appropriately (and unknowingly so) played Durazno Sangrando (bleeding peach) by Luis Alberto Spinetta. I am posting this for my brother who will understand why this is so awesome:

This week is Diwali, the Indian festival of lights. I have heard it described as a mixture between Christmas, New Years, 4th of July, and Thanksgiving. If anyone knows how to do festivals its India, so I am looking forward to celebrating here in lovely Meherabad. I'll be sure to post some pictures.

I'll be headed to Bhilai at the end of this week to finally meet up with my brother-from-another-mother Jai, and I am also really excited about that.

So much love to all of you,
Daniel

Hangin' with Baba, cooking with Mama (and going to Pune)

2011-10-20T04:19:00.000-07:00

WHERE: MEHERABAD, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

The humour of the divine love-game is that the One who is sought is Himself the seeker. It is the Sought who prompts the seeker to ask, Where can I find Him whom I seek? The seeker asking, Where is God? Is really God saying, Where indeed is the seeker!
-Meher Baba

So this post finds me still in Meherabad, using the internet at my friend Lee's condo near the Meher Pilgrim Center. I've been taking it easy the past few days, as I picked up a small cold while in Pune. Just a sniffly head cold. I'm feeling better now, and I think there would be no better place to be sick than Meherabad.

After my last post I went to Pune to see my friend Ankit. He lives in the USA and is visiting his family for a few months. While waiting for the bus to Pune I felt a scratchy throat coming on and wondered if I should stay back. I didn't. The bus ride was fun. I met a guy named Anish who works in Pune and was returning from hanging with his family in Ahmednagar, but by the time I got Pune my scratchy throat had turned into a sore throat and a cough. I took a nap at my friends house and spent the evening with him watching cricket, Kaun Banega Crorepati (an Indian 'Who Wants to be a Millionare' hosted by Amitabh Bachchan), Indian soaps, and old Indian movies. It was AWESOME. I don't have TV so watching the screen was special enough but it ALL BEING INDIAN made it all the more enjoyable.

The next morning I was feeling a little better, but still sick. I had plans to meet up with a new friend Roli from CouchSurfing but had to cancel. Ankit's house-worker-boy (still not comfortable with the Indian servant culture) made us yummy egg bhurji and roti for breakfast. We took it easy for a bit then went to Aga Khan Palace. On the way to Aga Khan we stopped in the Anudh Market for some veggies:

Aga Khan Palace is beautiful. "Historically, [it] holds great significance as from 9 August 1942 to 6 May 1944, this palace was the prison for Mahatama Gandhi, his wife Kasturba and his secretary Mahadev Bhai Desai though the last two died away in between their captivity at the Aga Khan Palace at Pune. (Wiki)" They have some of Gandhiji's belongings under preservation and a memorial for Kasturba and Mahadev Bhai Desai as well as a portion of Gandhi's ashes.

Seeing this really made me wish I had brought my skateboard:

After Aga Khan Palace Ankit's father picked us up and took us out to eat at The Coffee House, a Pune legend.

I ordered kitchadi because I wasn't feeling so great, which is moong daal and rice with ghee and a little spice. In this case a bit of cumin and turmeric. Its very nourishing and easy to digest. But I did have a taste of the others' food which was kadhai veg, kashmiri dum aloo (garam masala heavy, creamy, potatoes...and in this case with pineapple and grapes), and tandoori roti.

They dropped me off at the bus station in Shivajinagar, and I headed back to Ahmednagar. Here's a picture of Ankit and I in the terminal:

It was nice to come back to Meherabad and relax. I wish I could have stayed in Pune longer as there was a lot I wanted to see and do, but I will have to go back for another trip soon. I rested for a bit then went to Baba's samadhi for aarti. I saw Amrit there and she invited me out for lunch the following day. I obliged.

I slept in the next morning, and had some idlis and sambar for breakfast. After breakfast I meditated and read, then headed over to Amrit and Dara's house. We headed into town and went to the local market. Frankly it was dirty, stinky, and crowded so we were in and out. (Even Amrit was covering her face as we moved through). We got lost in Ahmednagar. As I was making fun of Amrit for getting lost she knocked over someone's parked motorbike in an alleyway and squealed off, cackling.

We finally made it to the restaurant, which I think was called Sweet Shop. They had an array of Indian sweets and a nice pure-veg menu. We had medu vada, dahi vada, cholle bhatura, and stuffed sabzi paratha. The bhatura was much different than what we make at Chai Pani. It was very light and crispy, yet still malleable. The cholle was very dark and smoky. Alan Wagner informed me that evening that in many places tea is added to cholle to darken it. The vadas were light and fluffy and quite exquisite. The paratha was delicious also but by the time it got to the table we were both stuffed.

That evening I relaxed and recovered, and read from Baba's Listen, Humanity.

This morning I sat for while and went to breakfast at MPR. We had poha, eggs, roti, and chai. Just lovely. Elliot Montague and I began the scheming for a film were are intending to make (more on that some other time). I went to the doctor and she gave me some medicine and encouragement. I'm feeling about 85% percent now, and am on the up-swing.

I went to Amrit and Dara's at 10:30 to help her prepare lunch for some friends. We had a feast! We made sprouted mung bean samosas, chicken vindaloo, kheema, bhindi, rice, daal, and roti. Everything was exquisite. (dont worry Meherwan I am taking notes...)

Oh and some LADOOS!!! (that custard apple ice cream behind, too)

Here is a video of Mama explaining to all you people what 'curry' is. When we say kari patha we are talking about the leaves of Murraya koenigii or 'curry leaves'. They have nothing to do with curry powder, which is a blend of Indian spices made only for export and never used here in the Motherland.

That's about it for now. There is a lot happening underneath the surface too, but its hard to put into words and I think has quite a bit of ripening to do.

Lots of love to everyone,
Daniel ॐ

Baba's grace

2011-10-16T01:47:00.000-07:00

WHERE: MEHERABAD, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

I'm in Meherabad now, the land of the Meher Baba. Meherabad is close to Ahmednagar, and is the site of Meher Baba's ashram. I am here for Baba's darshan and to see Dara and Amrit Irani, the beloved parents of the owner of Chai Pani in Asheville (where I work).

My last day in Mumbai was lots of fun. I made aloo paratha for lunch:

Chitt had some things to do so Inge and I went on an escapade to find the Hare Krishna Mandir in Juhu. We would walk a bit, ask someone for directions, walk a little bit more, ask another person, and on and on. And everyone told us different things. Finally we find a park to sit in (that has a sign that says Hare Krishna) but no temple. We had given up at this point only to realize that the temple's entrance is next-door to the park gate.

We went in and sat to meditate in the main portion of the temple. A group of musicians were chanting Hare Krishna and other mantras, and a monk was giving the prasad up by the murtis. It was a huge relief from the bustle of Mumbai to be able to just sit and let the temples uplifting essence pervade. I lost track of time sitting there...Its nice to travel because unless you are catching a train or something you really dont have to be anywhere on time and you have very little responsibility outside of your person. That has made it easy when meditating to just sit there and forget about myself since there is noTHING that "I" have to do.

The monk gave us a tour of the whole temple complex, which is huuuuge. We were taken upstairs to Prabhupad's living quarters which have been preserved since his passing. Everything was immaculate, and while in there we were given pedhas for prasad from another monk.

Connected with the temple complex is a vast array of food vendors. They had pani puri made with filtered water so we HAD to have some. I think it was like RS 20 for 5 peices, which is about 50 cents. They also had thandai but I held out since I had already had pedhas.

I said my goodbyes to Chitt and Inge, and Chitt took me to the platform at Ville Parle station to get me to Daadar Station, where I took the Shirdi Fast Pass overnight to Ahmednagar and then a rickshaw here to Meherabad

I was initially staying with Dara and Amrit in Meherabad but since their guest space is undergoing some renovations they put me up in the BEAUTIFUL Meher Pilgrim Center.

Meherabad has been lovely and very spiritually nourishing. Not even one day passed here and as Mr. Clay so eloquently forwarned I was literally crying like a baby. What sparked this emotional outpour is of little importance but it triggered something deeper in me . I walked in the cool Meherabad evening letting go of stuff I've been holding for who knows how long, feeling as if I were just a presence watching this person Daniel go through this deep cleansing and deep change. I returned to Baba's samadhi tomb in time for the evening aarti, then headed home with Dara.

The MPR cooks 3 delicious meals a day, headed by their chef Alan. He gave me a tour of the kitchen after lunch, and introduced me to his staff. Later that evening I was invited by Dara and Amrit to dinner at Alan's house. Appetizers were wine, cheese, bread, fried fish (in many forms), bakri with cheese and olives, etc.) Dinner was rice, unbelievable amazing daal, sprouted horse lentil salad, mixed green salad, rogan josh, palak, Surma's karidi (a local Maharashtrian green), and maybe some more things I can't remember. Below are videos of us cooking and of the spread we had for dinner.

I'm not quite sure how long I will be in Meherabad, but I am going to use my time here to relax and focus on some inner things, so I will update this blog the next time I get moving.

Until then, Jai Baba

Samosa in Irla Market, Andheri West (Mumbai)

2011-10-14T07:54:00.000-07:00

These were really, really good. It was raining so I took them to go, for my friends back at the place we are staying. All the locals have been saying baarish mausam nahin hai par baarish ho rahi hai (it is raining but its not the rainy season). The Western India rainy season should have ended in September apparently, but the last 3 days it has POURED every night. Its fun to roll up your pants and run in the rain for a evening samosa craving though.

Oh and did I mention that the tamarind and green chutney that came with them were literally drinkable. Delicious. And really really really hot.

भारत का खाना - Food of India

2011-10-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

WHERE: MUMBAI, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

I spent the day in Andheri, where my host Chittranjan is living. We had a nice slow morning and after some tulsi chai went to Pappilon, a very clean pure-veg restaurant near Chitt's, for lunch. I had masala pav bhaji, and Chitt and Inge had palak with tandoori roti. Everything was delicious.
Chitt went to work after that, and Inge and I went to get a sim card for her and an international card for myself. She's from Belgium, and is also couchsurfing with Chitt. We headed to Infinity Mall for the Mumbai International Film Festival only to find that it starts tomorrow. So we explored the mall. Had some lovely chai in the food court then bought some spices in a store there. When we came out it was pouring rain, so we got a rickshaw and headed back to Kripa Nagar.

We had nothing to do but sit and wait for it to stop raining. Sujit is the "good name" of a handsome young man who watches the gate in Chitt's neighborhood, and him and I have been hanging out. We converse almost entirely in Hindi which we are both extremely excited about. He is very sweet and when Inge and I returned in the rain he invited us to sit under the awning with him and his friend and watch the rain.

Inge and I went to Pappilon AGAIN for dinner since it was so good, and we had veg biriyani, rava dosa, and rasmalai. Incredible. I smiled through every bite, and though it was too spicy for Inge she happily ate it up.Below are two videos, one of the selections in a sweets shop and the other of some pani puri on the evening Andheri streets.

And here are a couple more photos from Mumbai:

Dinesh and me in Colaba after he took me to buy that kurta.

Inside of Pappilon

This is India

2011-10-12T12:40:00.000-07:00

WHERE: MUMBAI, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA

When my plane landed in Mumbai the song "You are the Best Thing" by Ray Lamontagne came over the speakers. Getting here took a total of 23 hours, which went by rather quickly though I was only able to sleep for an hour at a time at select intervals. Our plane could not dock at its own gate, so we parked away from the airport and exited the plane on stairs, then took a bus to the terminals.

While at the airport in Amsterdam waiting to come to Mumbai, I struck up conversation with two Mumbaikers, named Neelkanth and Venkat. Both used to live in Mumbai and had been in Ecuador for the last year working in a computer company there. Neelkanth was coming home for his brother's wedding, and Venkat to see his family.

The moment I stepped out of the plane a wave of heat and humidity engulfed me, not much different from a Charleston summer's eve. But the air had a heaviness to it, that would increase as I entered Mumbai proper. While I was waiting on baggage with my newly made friends, an airport employee came up to us and without looking at us or facing his body towards us asked if we had anything we wanted him to sneak through customs for us. We said no and he left, but continually hawked us with the expression, "You change your mind you let me know, K?" on his face. I commented on the matter and Neelkanth uttered the famous phrase, "This is India."

Something interesting happened (the likes of which is beginning to already become normal) right after I met them.

----> some background info: My good friend Jai lives in a city called Bhilai in Chhattisgarh, a state in eastern India. Months ago I had planned on being there for Diwali but due to heavy train traffic at that time I was only able to get a ticket for after (and that ticket is currently still waitlisted).

So I was talking with Neelkanth and I asked where his brother/family lived.

"A small state, in eastern India......Chhattisgarh"

"Chhattisgarh?" I said, "My friend Jai lives in Bhilai".

His face lit up. "I am from Bhilai!"

Long story short, he is driving from Mumbai to Bhilai on 20 Oct and has offered to pick me up in Ahmednagar to take me. So not only can I cancel my uncertain ticket, but I can keep my promise to Jai and be with his family for Diwali.

This sort of thing has been happening constantly since I arrived. If I need something or have an issue it is immediately resolved. Immediately. I stepped out of my hotel this morning to get chai after breakfast, looking for a place called Shakari Bhandan. Not 30 seconds from leaving the hotel gate a young Indian fellow called out to me (gently).

"Hey are you American?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"I have some friends in America. In Virginia. Where do you live?"

We talked for a few moments and I invited him out for chai. We got to Shakari Bhandan and had chai and a masala dosa, speaking in a mixture of Hindi and English which he was very very happy about. We started counting through Hindi numbers out loud together, and a table of young kids next to us all looked at me with HUGE grins.

His name is Dinesh. He helped me get a cell phone, get some Hindustani clothes (which he said would prevent people from hassling me because I will fit in more), showed me the Colaba and Fort areas, got me a taxi from Colaba to Andheri, etc. (and told everyone, "Be straight with him, hes my dear friend, my brother).

Dinesh introduced my to his friend Naresh. Naresh lives in the slums and invited me to his home while I am in Mumbai. He has quite a story which I will tell another time.

Everyone has been really happy that I am speaking Hindi with them. And to be honest though people some people said, "Everyone speaks English, you dont really need to learn Hindi," I have been able to communicate so much better with everyone through Hindi. All of my taxi drivers so far have known hardly any English, and we did our entire conversing in Hindi. At the customs desk I spoke Hindi with the fellow and after a smile and head waggle (and a few questions about how I knew Hindi) he stamped my passport and sent me along. I feel that from just one full day in Mumbai my Hindi has gotten much much better, and that being able to speak it will allow me to experience India from a perspective that would not be available to me if I couldn't.

Mumbai is FILTHY. Dirty, crowded, loud. It smells like trash most everywhere. I was talking with a woman today in Andheri and she said that 70% of Mumbai's population lives on the street (meaning either literally on the street or in a slum). The roads are crazy (see YouTube videos of Indian streets) but somehow it all works. I still have not fully processed the sensory overload of the city itself so I will speak on that more some other time.

The food has been delicious. Lovely. Breakfast was masala omlette, bread, chana masala. Lunch's dosa was perfect, sambar was good (lots of coriander in it). Chai has been lovely, of course. And offered everywhere. Even when we were buying kurtas the shopkeeper gave us chai. For dinner I had dal fry, rice, yogurt, and roti. For three people it was about 3 USD.

It is late here. 2 am. I slept from 7:30 until 12:45 and am going back to sleep now. I am not jetlagged, just sleep deprived. I only slept 6 hours last night (after 2 days with hardly any) because I wanted to get up in time for the free breakfast at my hotel. :)

There is much, much more to say about Mumbai and first reactions to India in general but for now yeh hi kaafi hai (this is enough).

If you'd like to call me dial +91 976 920 6447 on skype (charges will apply, and if you set it to India you do not need to dial the +91). My number may change as I am trying to change service to Aircell, which has better rates for international calls. Otherwise you can send me emails or messages on facebook and I will see them at some point.

ॐ

Ready for Departure

2011-10-04T14:32:00.000-07:00

WHERE: Columbia, SC USA

I am in Columbia now, preparing to fly into Mumbai (Bombay) on Monday. After much encouragement from friends and family I am creating this blog, in the hopes of being able to update it throughout my journey through the Indian subcontinent over the next 6 months.

Why am I going to India in the first place?
This is a question that has been on my mind these last few weeks. And it seems that the answer changed from a place of certainty and 'definite reason' to moreso just a feeling. It just feels right. I want to see the land that gave birth to Yoga, Vedanta, Buddhism, Ramana Maharshi, the number zero, samosas, and dosa sambar. I want to improve my Hindi. I want to see Dara and Amrit, Jai, the Golden Temple, Rishikesh, Varanasi, Thuli Baba, etc. I want to cook with Indian mothers and street vendors. I want to drink garam garam chai with horrendous amounts of sugar in it. These are all reasons of 'why I am going' but they dont hit the nail on the head.
The only thing that does is that 'it feels right'. My intuition has never failed me, and I intuit that it hardly will in India.

So may this first post mark the beginning of a wonderful journey and may it be followed by many, many more.

ॐ