So, now that you've all stopped checking this...

Hello Loves,
Ahhh. Where to start?
Today has been my first day spent alone in India. I've been travelling with my friend Natalie (from Berkely/Living Routes) for the last two weeks, since Living Routes ended and we left Auroville as fast as we could.
I'm looking at Facebook photos from Vassar's Founder's day madness throwdown/hoedown feast and revelry circus...and I honestly could cry. God, I love all of those people so much, and there's something about founder's day that brings out the essential zaniness and truth from everyone's character- you can see it in the photos. People stand like mountains and I can feel a very visceral love for them circuiting throughout my whole being. dare I look and photos from home? I was considering leaving India immediately after living routes, just to be with all of you lovely people and your beautiful dreams, but something has bound me to this land. Something inside (outside?) of me has perscribed India as the right medicine. Indeed, though I long to be with everyone, I dont think I could handle exposure to the Vassar/American way of life right now; something needs to blossom before I can take on the world.
I'm in Pune, a mistake of a city, a very appropriate place for Osho to stick himself and to dig all of the wester ashramis in their maroon Osho bathrobes, riding bikes with their skirts hiked past their knees, trying to balance Indian traffic with a cigarette and a hot latte, checking on their 401ks between meditations. ach! I've been everywhere already, and I wish I could even give you the highlights; can I even try?
Hampi, Karnataka; finding our way onto the wrong side of the tracks and being offered a mage blubnt from a sweet only lady in a watermelon cart- The cocnut British hypochondriac with theories about India and stories about "Pakis" - the pissed off Brit who couldn't take the tourist ferry prices anymore and demanded the India rate, the ferry driver, wo had nearly reached the other bank, just turned around and dropped him off back on the side we had started on - Mesozoic bats above the Mango Tree restaurant, and sitting on the cement floor beneath the Mango tree as a fierce pre monsoon drizzle swept in - climbing a chiesled seeminly Tibetan cliff to find a huge fort on top (with lost travel buddy Tim, whom I hope to run into in Dharmashala) - seas of unattended ruins, older than anything in Europe, an unguarded World Heritage site, gettin to touch the ancient Ganeshas - on the stray rocks in the cliffs outside the city, ancient rock cutters would practice in the gaps betwen boulders; there were hidden rock doodles everywhere - swimming in the Hampi Bazaar Ghat in the River Tungabhadra with about four kids, all yelling "hello!' before doing remarkably ungraceful dives into knee deep running boulder water; I've gone swimming in a few places, and have yet top find a single India who can do a simple front entry into the water...humm - It'll never be everything - oh wait, Natalie and I running around an obscure corner of Hampi's big temple, only to find, turning right into us from an even more obscure corner, Jamie and Carly, who had arrived in town, unbeknownst to us, the day before.

The Hampi Link, Bangalore to Hospet, Karnataka - Indian railways saves two seats on every train for travellers with tourist visas; Nat and I arrive confused but determined to the reservation counter; there's a white guy ahead of us in line, the first we'd seen in two days - He gets one sleeper seat and Nat gets the other, leaving me to do what few self respecting Westerners ever have the glorious opportunity or the gall to attempt; ride an overnight train in the unreserved second class- Nat takes my bag and I immerse myself into the mob as the train pulls in - everyone rushes in chaotically, men open the windowss from the outside, throwing bodies and bags into the train and laying out anything they can to reserve seats for their families - I dash in, and after a few failed attempts (I thought it was unfair for the guys to reserve seats for their wives and kids; sounds tough but many of the same guys had tried to trip me or push me over as I was boarding) I found a seat sqeezed between an old lady and a family of four (on a seat designed for four people) - this was at the first stop - as the train made more stops, the car continued to fill, and by the fourth stop from my vantage point I could see 30 people and only 10 proper seats; there was a self righteous Drew Carey looking priggish Indian who had claimed the luggage rack above me; he refused to share - with any of the passengers who would end up standing for the entirety of the 10 hour ride - about 3 am, an old lady comes to my section and begins tying her Punjabi scarf to the luggage racks directly above me (drew carey guy was not pleased) I thought she was going to use it to lean on or some such nonsense, when from nowhere she produces a two year old boy - so this kid has the best seat on the whole train, a friggin homespun hammock that leaned with the turns like built in suspension, and all is well - so, a father and son spooning on the floor at my feet, old lady at my right, mother and two kids laying horizontally to my left, heads nearly in my lap, two old guys across from me, weaving their dhotied legs into mine, and mister baby-lila hammock swinger directly in front of me - about 5am I wake up to a strange feeling on my leg - In my daze I hear something spilling on the floor and realize the something's soaking my leg - Yeah, smart ass two year old pissed right on me, right on the train, and I couldn't even get mad because I was in second class - and that's my eternal and first story about how I was urinated on on Indian public transportation
Gokarna Beach, Karnataka - Om beach to ourselves at night; penultimate moon over ocean and mountain islands, ahhhhh.

I love you. Send me an email about you life (paroche@vassar.edu)
from Pune without caprice

Mac

oh, also check this out (www.theawkwardmenagerie.blogspot.com) for more stories from my travels and the travels of the other Living Routes students around the world.

So, I did survive the flight over

...and I've been in India for about a month now, since the time of that last post. As expected, the process has been full of discovery, frustration, self reflection and love. A far and well loved old long lost friend from home has put the bug in me to update you; unfortunately this post will just be the bare essentials and some photos, though, more stories (myths etc. ) will be coming as they unfold. I simply can't update you on everything, but if I don't feel like I'm too behind after this post then I'll keep you updated and fill in the holes as they arrive.

The Bare Bones:

-All the food is approximately one quarter spice by weight. In the mornings tamils eat fermented rice patties (idli) with curried vegtables, chutney, sambars and the stunted little bananas above the equator... I guess breakfast is the best way to start adressing India.

-Everywhere the air has the distinct smell of burning peat, which I learned well in Ireland and have only experienced in fine pipe tobaccos in the states. Here it comes from burning cow shit; gods excretions. Cows are skinny, infertile and live of off trash from the streets. They basically function to clean up organic waste and produce Indias most useful fuel. I've learned since my arrival that dung is also used as a kind of brillo pad; it shines metal, keeps plastic clean and dries into a pretty sturdy frisbee...its also everywhere. If you walk anywhere at night you better have closed toe shoes. Some of the really old-school Indians still use it as an antiseptic.

-India has stray cows. In the cites, in the country, in the forests, on the sidewalks, in restaurants, sleeping on your cot, cows rule. Imagine steroid babies five feet tall, too big to help, too holy to control, and too calm to run away from traffic. Most car accidents (Indians are the best drivers in the world, no sarcasm) involve orthodox Hindu drivers trying to dodge cows. We've found that the best way to cross a busy intersection is to stride beside a passing cow and spin th eheads of the passing drivers. They eat most of the trash; there's a free governmental service of vets that delve into their innards fishing for swallowed plastic bags.

-I got a coconut from a lady on the street, who had a perfectly stacked pyramid of them and a machete. In two hacks she perfectly lopped off the top and with the thirdt shep popped into the cocnut, whose water gushed out like a pop can. She handed the nut and a straw for the lightest sweetness and natural boost that only a fresh treefruit can offer. After I finished the drink I handed her the nut again; this time she hacked it in half with another two deft strokes and cut a perfectly symmetrical, curved spoon in a third quick hack. The fresh meat is more of a jelly, the consistancy of raw oysters. Snack and a show for 10 rupees - 2 cents.

-Full of Contradictions

- My program is based in a place called Auroville. This place doesn't really make any sense and prides itself in that fact. Basically, its a gigantic intentional community that sprang out of the Sri Aurobindo ashram in nearby Pondicherry (anyone who read the life of Pi, I've been to the restaurant in Pondy that the book is narrated from). Aurobindo's consort, a Jewish French woman known in thes parts only as "The Mother," had a dream about a place where the virtue of human unity could come to its full fruition, and a laboratory of spiritual evolution (The crux of Aurobindo's message) could be set up. After purchasing thousands of acres of government desert wasteland in one of hottest, driest parts of the Indian subcontinent, Auroville was born. It takes the contradictions and problems and nonsensical diversity of India and injects strange Europeans potions, including the elixir of tourism and the white dollar. It was hewn out of the dust by droves of determined hippies in loincloths. I've been here for five weeks and have only questions; Auroville is no one thing.

-My program is focussed on sustainability in this environment, community development and living, and the philosophical framework of Integral studies. I lve with 9 other students, 3 faculty, and 2 of the faculties significant others. I work at a bamboo workshop, harvesting, prepping, processing and building with raw bamboo. India's tool is the machete. Mine, so far, has been the pen.

I think that's good for now.

Vannakam - all good wishes

Volken nach Frankfurt

People encountered so far in my travels

A spry Indian couple going to Brazil- I really nearly lost my flight out of Pittsburgh, because of these two; they were saccharine sweet and started giving me advise and stories about India (as well as an entire family history). They approached me because I was in the act of writing my last post and needed help connecting to the airport wireless. I had my glasses on and must have looked like I knew what I was doing. Ultimately, neither of us helped the other make their connections. Classic running to the gate with all of my luggage scene...

Peace studies Abby - A anemic looking girl from Morgantown, WV, who was seated next to me for the flight to DC; she, like most of the college students I have met, was headed to a study abroad program that spanned Switzerland, France and CROATIA!!! (Stirling - she said that she was head to Durbovnik and I almost screamed, "Dobs!"). She was a peace studies student from a school I was unfamiliar with... The parade of bullshit liberal artists begins (well, it began with me; I'm as big of a part as anyone). Her voice reminded me of Anna Weisberg, in fact, I think she might have been a Quaker, too .

Big Jim Russle - Just about the heartiest American go-gettin, gin-drinkin, conversation-coverin worldsmith that I could have the priveledge of flying with; sat next to me from DC to Frankfurt. Reminded me immediately of Randy Gorske (Ian and Jeremiah's dad) who is a real warm joker, and made conversation between us pretty easy. His wife even looked like Dar Gorske, which added even more to his supernatural air... planes are the easiest way for angels these days; and they take advantage of the free Lufthansa liquor. Just like Randy, he knew everything about obscure places, and had a hungry need to keep bringing in information. He read all of the Lufthansa magazine, watched all of the inflight shows, kept looking around as he talked and asked the stewardesses bright questions about everything that he didn't understand; and all things while talking, going on about theories and systems, secrets of the east.

Frances and Megan, eh? - Two Canadian girls from Bishop U. who were waiting for their friend to arrive in Europe, then a European tour, then study abroad in South Africa. Their saving graces were that they were cute, ignorant of the culture and generally very lost. This had already caused them problems with German men. We wandered around the city aimlessly; I had been awake (in some way) for nearly 22 hours and couldn't check into my room until later that afternoon, so it was really nice to have company to talk to. Innocents abroad.

AlsakAndrew - A guy that I won't go too into because I don't know about how I feel about the conversation I had with him. He was an American badass: from Texas, had travelled the world with small mission trips, including Russia, India, the Middle East and many points in Europe. He, like any of us that are exposed to it for too long, became disenfranchised and embarrassed of American Christianity. So, now he's meeting up with his mission contacts on his own dime, without a church affiliation, alone. What's more badass; to raise money for this trip he drove a semi 85 hours a week between California and Alaska. He heads to Prague tomorrow, and has no concrete plans after that... I hate to compare travelling friends to people from home, because every personality is singular, with its own manifestations and complexities...That being said, Andrew reminds me of my sorely lost trio who are still wandering the suderlands of Texas; Dave, Ian and especially Trix. Visions of Andrew hiking into the sunset with these anarchists. hmmmm.

Now just looking for a hot pretzel and a cold beer.

Om Shanti Frankfurt am Main Om

Stuck in outside of Pittsburgh with the darkly veiled somewhere blues.

Greetings my beloveds,



Today is an epic day in many respects. For me, it marks the initiation into the unknown soujourn; presently I'm sitting in the Pittsburgh terminal, looking out on the last snow I'm bound to see for the next ten months. My parents dropped me off less than an hour ago, and I will be alone for the next forty hours. Parting is a subtle art and a stage for our pretentions. I have been stoic throughout the process, keeping myself removed both emotionally and as company to many of my friends at home. I ruffled my parents away as soon as we got to the airport. Now that I'm here I need to start the process; need to really make this a journey instead of a vacation away from the life I know...I wish that I had expressed to them succinctly how much I actually love them, how much being home means to me, and that the last two years I've suffered a succession of realizations about how well they raised me abd how compassionate they have been....Instead we drove awkwardly (and slowly) down I-79 chitchatting, which is fine, but the condition of my life is wanting to discuss the biggest things and never finding an avenue to do so. How do you lay yourself bare in front of those that have known you for so long, invested so much in you, and loved you while not realizing how you've changed? How do I convince them that I'm becoming a man?..... One of my intents for this journey and a theme that will come up often is sincerity; not only telling the exact truth of your feelings and circumstances, but believing that the truth should be known.

During our long ride to Pittsburgh we fought against clouds and country roads to receive the inaugural proceedings. How fitting that in my life, two historic events (one politcal, one personal) would occur on the same day. One part of the President's (how exciting to address him as such, it's like dating a check on jan 2 and realizing that you are actually in the new year) speech that especially struck me, and I believe is pertinent not only to my travels, but to my greater beliefs about what must happen in this world was early on in the address when he said, "We are a young country, but as scripture says 'there comes a time to put aside childish things." This has great social and environmental implicationsfor our nation, maybe its about time to finally be responsible for all of our power..

In Frankfurt now, about to make a dash for an international hostel.
Much love from EUROPE!!!! What!

obviously more to come,
Mac