Oct 20

Sometimes the way forward seems insurmountable, impassable, impossible.

Sometimes the view is skewed; the picture didn't turn out like the perception.

Sometimes the outcome is not in one's control.  Sometimes a certain grace descends to shift the tree-crowded picture of the little rockpile summit

into a resplendent view.  That's grace, all right.  I'd know her anywhere.

Oct 19

The thing about goods from India is that they have a short growing season in Maine.

All the gauzy cottons and homemade paper journals are fine for our 2.5 months of summer, already past.  But Gandhi did not have to contend with winter at his ashram.  It is no wonder my vow of poverty back then in the impressionable years lasted only two months. Then the hands started bleeding from stress eczema and the search was on for heavier jackets, a car with a heater, and a job.  None of these see-through garments today will do, and a gumcha for a blanket is like a dainty linen hanky in the northeast winds to come.

Oct 18

Back to the old tricks...

Today's hike will be Mt. Osceola and East Osceola on the far side of New Hampshire,

close to Loon Mountain and Waterville Ski Areas.  Supposedly this is an easy to moderate hike with splendid views.  Mt. Jefferson was on the list, but the winds are high today and will be higher above treeline. 

Easy sounds good.

Oct 17

Shiva, the God of destruction, is said to ride a black dog and is often accompanied by dogs.

Durga, the warrior goddess, is honored in Varanasi in a red temple that absolutely pulsates just like a heartbeat.  She is said to ride a tiger and her consort is Bhairav, the fierce aspect of Shiva, riding his black dog.

Sunrise on the Ganga in Varanasi looks amazingly like sunset on the Ganga in Allahabad, some 75 miles away.

 The Lotus Temple in Delhi was clean, well organized and peaceful.

 Sunset on the Ganga from the sacred grove outside of Allahabad.

And the sweet Lalitha temple near Manikarnika Ghat in Varanasi provided comfort.  All the temples demonstrated different energy depending on the time of day, the entity enshrined and celebrated, the crowd, the number of dogs.  Photography is not allowed in most of the central altars of active shrines.  Mostly I did not sneak pictures, caught up as we were in the high energy of the moment, the bell clanging, the clapping, the monkeys, the glittering saris, the dogs in shadow, the priests with prasad, the whiskey, the rupees, the red powder, the heat, the fantastical appearances of hindrances and helpers.

Oct 16

One day our Khajuraho delegation walked through an adjacent Indian village for a visit.

There we saw the community well,

community bathing spot and water collection,

and schoolhouse.

As we passed a doorway, one of the women invited our group into a compound of sorts.

There we saw about four families living in shelters in close proximity, not necessarily related, but sharing the space beneath a neem tree,

doing all things that people do at home, like putting on makeup,

doing laundry,

babysitting,

and getting ready for the day.

 Some were more happy to see us than others.

Oct 15

Today, fresh fruit and vegetables will come home from the US local grocery.  These foods are forbidden in a foreign third world country if the visitor wishes to maintain a sense of well-being and continence.  So, no salads, no mangos, no guava, no papaya, leads to a sense of calm, at least in India.  It speaks of the Hippocratic oath of Primum non nocere, first do no harm, or the first Yoga Sutra restraint of ahimsa, not causing pain.  So no fruit, no pain.

In India steamed or cooked food is the way to go,

and desserts should be full of rosewater (from the bottle not the tap) and honey dripping out of fried dough.
My traveling companions said they would be the first to go shrine-hopping in India and gain weight. To my great surprise, the scale this morning announced no change, in keeping with the finger waggling no no no.
Today we shall move on to Yes.  Yes, glad to be home.  Yes to the chef's salad.  Yes, more birthdayfest.

Happy Birthday

A Commercial Happy Birthday

This store in the Varanasi airport was for those who have no aptitude for bartering/haggling.

 This store outside of Kalico shrine was run by a self-assured merchant.

These people set up shop on the banks of the Ganges River for all the predawn tourists and local bathers.

Some rickshaw drivers are in cahoots with the neighborhood mafia.  Ours tried to take us in the wrong direction, away from the river to who knows where.  We bailed.

Most families travel together whenever possible.  The streets are filled with cars, trucks, motorbikes, cows, goats, rickshaws, walkers, sidewalk sellers. 

All those travelling on the roads of Varanasi are lucky to be alive.  Adding 9.5 hours of earth time from being on an international flight, adding that to a birthday is like meeting yourself in the future.  Yeeks, too creepy.  The Sanskit word for grace is kripa, pronounced creepa.  Perfect.

Luck and Grace

Oct 8

A day ahead of US, still in Khajuraho, but packing for Varanasi (Banaras), the city of light.  We are told not to go to Vindyachal, city of 4 birds and a bell, during the full moon on the 11th.  Too crowded, too crazy.  That must be something, considering...

 We have been living in a small village for the past few days.  A tiny green stone/mud building is the place where our chai is made on a wood fire, served in styrofoam cups.  Very civilized.

 The place is surrounded by very old hills, worn down by time.  It used to be jungle with tigers.  Now more tamed.

 The groundbreaking was completed with an offering of rose petals, fragrant, and vibrant.

 All the while a huge Mahua tree kept us mostly cool and protected.

From Varanasi back to Delhi and perhaps the Taj Mahal if there's half a day left.  Meanwhile

a night show at the temples,

the end of Navaratri, and boys fishing, out of school for the holiday.

October 6

Hot hot hot!

In the temple of the 64 yoginis, those who serve the Divine Mother are still present and reside in their own spaces.  The wind blows through this area and whispers just like a mother to her child.

The second temple complex is a more frequently visited place.  It is said to have taken years to complete with its intricately carved statues. 

Today was our groundbreaking ceremony, complete with shade, cows, a background of hills, and flowers. Unfortunately, the camera battery died while I was attempting to download the pictures.  But I have important pictures of my silver slippers under the sari, and of the celebratory food after the ceremony.

And at the end, salty and sweet thanksgivings next to the plate of flowers intended for the visiting divinities.

Happy BDay, Jimmy

Another day dawns.

The parakeets fly back into the trees from whereever they've been roosting.  Those born on this day are kind, open-hearted, and never in a hurry.

 When the universe is home, half way around the world is still home.

Today we go to the temple of the 64 yoginis.  After breakfast, of course.  It's time to get ready for the day and it is 9:00 PM the night before.  I am in both places at once.  Ready for sleeping, ready for breakfast.

Oct 4

Khajuraho
33C, parakeets and little black frogs.
Saris sewed in 2 hrs.
Jet Lag.
Statues at every window.
Haven't figured out how to place pictures from iPhone camera to iPhone blog yet.
Maybe next time.

Ten thousand visits

Boston to Newark to New Delhi - 19+ hours

Silver slippers whisk me away to a land of enchantment and burning ghats, tikkas and bindis, saris and bottled water, heat and humidity.  Camera is charged and ready to document.  Writing notebook is near at hand.  Daisy let me sleep in this morning, an inch of rain is expected at the end of the day, and I will be in flight when the rain tally is made by loofing hoosband.

The number of visits on this site will reach 10,000 today, probably half of them mine.  Thanks also go to Jim, Tom, Barb, Dave and Mary, the ones I know about.  I will be back to this place on a more regular basis on the 14th.  See ya then.

Rabbit Rabbit!

Oktoberfest

One US dollar = 49 rupees.

8 AM EDT= 5:30 PM Delhi Time.

500 rupees ~ $10 US, which is how much my little round brown carryon bag cost two years ago in India. It is a marvel of ingenuity with pockets in all the right places. 
October marks birthday fest.  All month.  Every day, all day.  Presents accepted joyfully.