Travel Book Review - Numero Dos

The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga

Booker price winner 09. This book is a new release and from a first time novelist, a young Indian guy who lived in US and UK. Overall I have to say this is a great read, fun, easy, insightful and definitely gets you hooked to wanting to know the final plot of the story all the way to the end. I may be a bit bio-st since the story plays mostly in Delhi and all the visual descriptions this guys is putting me through is what I have seen and lived through every day here in town, yet I could have not found the same words ever! Brilliant. I found myself walking the streets of Delhi exactly the way it is. The story is the kind of Slumdog Millionaire type thing but here it isn't pure look and common sense that bring the young boy out from the bottom like in the movie, here it as actual murder, a brought up opportunity that could not be passed up. A very believable story that has you perhaps emphasize with the murderer and not the actual victim for obvious reasons which are introduced fully at the time of it all going down.
A point of criticism - Perhaps it was the editor, but the style of English is a touch too American for my taste. The punch lines and every day dude type sayings are overkill and really bug me. Here I would have much rather heard a British Accent which I thought would have fit better anyways.


A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers - Xiaolu Guo

This is the monthly read for our all women books club. I inhaled it in one go. We are only meeting in two weeks to discuss so maybe I shouldn't say much, but all in all its just a cute read. This is a story of a young Chinese girl going to London for one year to study English at one of the language school. While there she falls in love with an English man and moves in with him. While living with him she describes her every day experience and difficulties of understanding the language, as well as difference in culture. By the end of the year the relationship turns to a somewhat co dependent scenario, leading to a decision point by the time her visa expires. And its not a happy ending either. This book made me think that perhaps I had never loved before. The way she fully gives herself to this man is intriguing to me and something to admire. The writer does a great job sticking to the characters consistently and I am glad there is no happy ending as it would have appeared unreal for the characters to change so drastically that this relationship could have had a chance to survive. Not that it didn't deserve it looking at the connection of both. As the girl in the book is learning English she has to constantly look up words in the dictionary to try to understand, mostly after the conversation was over. The dictionary entries are shared and therefore a true experience is created that for any person who starts to learn a language a diction airy entry with all its different meanings can add more to confusion than clarification. She also compares some times English words with the Chinese dictionary and shares the meaning with us then, which are funny and visual. Virgina for example is called dark tunnel. Cute.

Arundhati Roy - The God of small things
I sat in the internet cafe in Kerala when looking up on the for sale books shelf. Arundhati Roy - this name seemed familiar to me. I had heard it before but the book cover was unfamiliar to me. I always remember books I read by the covers even if I don't recall the title or author. I googled here and found that the book had won the booker price in 97 and from what I could tell was her only novel since. But then I read more about her and found she had since here book fame become a very important political activist, living in Mumbai. And then I was sure I had probably read something from her while at CIIS. She writes articles and a blogg about world politic and economic subjects and has become an important public figure and speaker since. All in all enough reasons for me to buy her book and read it. Turns out the book is partialy autobiographical and Roy grew up in Kerala, hence why the book was promoted everywhere I went thereafter. I even passed the island she lived on and the story is mainly set in while on my backwater tour. Roy took me on an extreme visual tour through what I was seeing right there and then and like with the White Tiger I enjoyed so much getting the story told while being at the actual place in time. In this case we have no happy ending - girl made it out of the slums story - quiet the contrary. Its not a surprise really since the fact of a death of a 9 year old, the girls cousin, is shared in the beginning of the book and the story is leading of to the event of it happening. Actually we also right from the start get how all went down to shits after that death happening and so its clear that the book is going to be quiet depressing. Yet one wants to know how it actually really came to the little cousins death and so you stick with the story. Roy jumps back and forth in time and also between some dreams of some characters. I found this a bit too much to keep track of. In terms of her visual descriptions I thought she went a bit overboard with it. I have noticed this happening some times with first time writers where the description goes like this: The place was like this, and the air smelled of this and the moood was such ans such and the book in hand reminded me of this and this and then she had and accent like someone I knew who looked like this and this - etc. You get the point. Each peace of the sentence/paragraph consists of a visual description and she does it a lot! For a very visual person like myself what happens here is that I am taken from one highly visual place to the next, from the flower the pollen to the smell to the bee and in the end I actually forget what the story behind the sentence or paragraph was saying. I remain in the visual la la land on my own. With some extreme focus I made it to the end of the book which we all knew already ends with the day of the little cousins death.


Next is Hermann Hesse - Steppenwolf

Kerala - South India

Okay - what I am about to write is an experience I am having right now in India that is actually not all that positive. I have been in absolute la la traveling heaven, loving India to it's fullest with all it's struggles, but now I am faced with a behavior int his country that I had read about and had the least expected to be finding down here in the South, which is said to be the most open of all States. Being hassled by man is something I experienced in the early days of traveling to Italy, the whistling on the side of the road, the approach from the street vendors, etc. All part of it and all pretty harmless, but what I am faced with here in the South is much different. I want to say for the first time in my life I am actually harassed on a daily basis. Fair enough, one says not to travel alone as a woman to India, but I am keeping to all the rules the country sets to at least be left alone on my path. I dress appropriately, even though its so hot and I would rather run around in my strappy dress, I don't approach anyone, I am nice, courteous, follow country formulas of greetings, don't hang around bars on my own - all things one can do to blend in and down under - not a chance. Fair enough - how could I blend in here, I am white!! I stick out like a sore thumb, I am that stereotype of white European looking target, but am I a free for all to be hassled, spoken to, approached all day long, everywhere, insistently in search for a reaction, even touched? At the beach I seeked solitude and found myself surrounded by a group of 20 male viewers, trying to take pictures of me, talking to me and following me at all times as soon as stepping on the side of the road. Thanks to the American/Canadian couple taking me under their wings for the next two days making my stay really pleasant. Then I took off to meet Amma, a 2 hour bus ride away. I ended up in a - lets say far away place from tourism and civilization sort of place. Lonely planet has it still listed but I don't understand why now. I got to see Amma at last and sitting in the tent with thousands of people watching her hugging people tears starting streaming down my face. Partially I was touched by the atmosphere and taken by the chanting and part of me was totally exhausted from the long, hard way getting there to finally see her and I felt so lonely, truly lonely. I caught the attention of two teenage local girls who were dying to speak with this odd looking white girl and wished to practice their English. We spent the rest of the day talking about their dreams of working in IT and becoming a doctor and living in America or England one day. I asked one of the girls Amrita, named after the hugging mother, what she was putting out wishes for when receiving the blessing and she said that she wished for her boyfriend to come back to her. Now we both cried. It was a sweet moment I will never forget. We took a picture of us for memory but then I had to delete the picture because her father was watching us and disapproved. I understood. Of course she was the most beautiful young, sweet hearted Indian girl and I would protect her, too, if I was him. The picture was a genuine meant memory but how could he have know that. I headed back to my hotel, imagine the worst place you ever stayed at and listed as best in Lonely Planet. I hid, waiting for the night and waiting for the morning to get the hell out of this place. Waiting for the rickshaw on the street I was left with one memorable picture of this place I will never forget - in a red sunset light, amongst three lanes of oud hunking cars, dricing around the center of town circle with a large old statue in the middle, there - there was an elephant, walking silently with his master on the back, slowly in pace. With my mouth open, I watched the giant moving off into the distance. I wonder if he knows that with one step he could crush one or many of these noisy, good for nothing, metal things with wheels driving next to him. And as I stare behind this beautiful and forgotten animal I realize where I was - In a far away country, far away from anything I am used to and have experienced in my life, in a country so different from me and so new, in a country that brings me to the outer of my strengh and to the most open of my heart, in a country that I will have to learn to understand slowly.
For now - I am ready to leave and rest some.

Travel Book Review

One thing I love about traveling is having the time to read. I can proudly say I read a lot of books last year as well, thanks to my avid book club ladies. I am really into it, sucking in the words one by one. I thought I'de pass on what I read so far and let you know what I think.

Water for Elephants - Very nice story from the 30is, describing live in a circus, told in memory style by an old man in an elderly care home. Something like The Notebook and very much also movie material. Cant wait for someone to pick it up. Loved it!

Milan Kundera - Laughable Loves - A delightful selection of short stories. As the title says it's about love, but not always in the ways one may expect. Very cute and easy read with a touch of affection and erotic at times, as well as absolute surprise in the opposite direction. Kundera is an old favorite of mine and I am glad I am revisiting his book shelf.

Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore - For those who know me well, you know I am a Murakami fan and have read almost all of them, but never this one, even though it's one of his most popular. I guess there is a time for everything. And boy was I ready for this one. I LOVE THIS BOOK!!! I love the idea of leaving books on my travels and picking up new ones, wondering who might be the next reader. This book I am still holding onto even though I finished yesterday. I am carrying it around as a bible. This book is not your average fiction read, this book is about life philosophy. Very unexpected the reader gets a line of something special on every page. There are several parallel stories which merge in the end. Each story has it's own touch of life lessons behind, in the way things are happening, as well as the actual writing. In one story a boy is running away from home and in unusual ways is finding learning in his way. In another story we are introduced to a ever so slightly retarded old man, who in his simple ways teaches the way things are in his world. His language very much contains mainly of questions which then reveal simple life philosophical statements, that are for anyone to hear. I sucked in this book so much. The individual stories are grabbing and one can not wait for the continuation. This characteristic I am used to by the author and happy to find in this book again in the most brilliant way. I will leave the book at some point as one can not afford the extra weight, but am looking forward to one day in my live picking it up again only to find the special lines. Here a sample of what I am talking about:
- We fall in love in search of ourselves.
- Memories warm you up from inside, but they also tear you apart.
- When you are in the forest, you become a seamless part of it. When you are in the rain, you are a part of the rain. When you are in the morning, you are a seamless part of the morning. When you are with me, you become a part of me.
- Memory isn't so important here. The library handles memories.
And many many more. So so so very goooood!!!!! I can't believe it took me this long to come across this book.

Milan Kundera - Ignorance - Back to Kundera again as I needed a short read for the weekend only. Not finished yet, but can already tell his is going to teach me some history here about Communism in the Check Republic, before he is going to continue his story about an ex pad woman who moved to Paris. Fine by me.

I am of course also reading Buddhist literature as part of my ongoing practice. The book stores here are loaded with the books which otherwise are hard to get, and I have bought many already. I am not going to share any lines as most of them include old and secret teaching that each person has to find when they are ready for it and transmitted in a direct way. I do want to mention that my absolute favorite and daily read right now is the Dakini Teachings, a book given to me in a special moment and therefore brought into my live this way. Here some items just from the glossary. The definitions are new to me and intriguing, Buddhist or not:
INDIVIDUAL SELF: The mistaken idea that there exists an "I" that is an independent, singular, and permanent entity.
HABITUAL TENDENCIES: Subtle inclinations imprinted in the all-ground consciousness.

Next I am reading an Indian Author, which name and title I forgot, but the book has been recommended and is sold everywhere right now. We'll see. The book is in Delhi and first I have to get back there to get it.....

Happy New Year 2066!

Yup, it's New Years here in Nepal. We are celebrating the start of the year 2066. I had no idea we were this far of in the West. Here i am constantly fearing what will be beyond the year 2009 and now I am finding myself already far ahead and totally fine. Hahah. So yesterday and today there have been many celebrations going on and of course the special sales - "Hey Misses, by today for cheap - it's new years - if you buy it will be good luck for me and you." And I did buy.....
Today I left the hotel not knowing what to do with my day. The taxi driver I already know from all my errand runs suggested to drive to another town. He showed me pictures in the newspaper from a festival going on, New Years related Hindu festival, which naturally only happens ones a year. I said okay. So we went in the car and onto the road. The drive was about half an hour to a little town, I don't remember the name. we passed hundreds of people on foot onto the way to the festival, which ended up to probably some thousands squeezing into the tight little streets in the old stone midtown center. we parked and I left alone walking into the center to see whats going on. I counted in total amongst the visitors we were three white western tourists. this is a first for me to be this much the odd one out, but my time here has made me adjust and i learned that a smile can bridge miles of waters and candy for the kids is my own personal insider tip. accordingly the reaction of the Nepali people was curious and attention orientated, but as always in my experience, friendly. the crowed increased by the minute and the heat increased by midday. standing, leaning against a house wall with a bottle coca cola in my hand the driver appeared. obviously worried about me he decided to join the festival and to keep me company. there was nothing to worry about but in the end it did help to have a strong local man push against the crowed at times when it got to tight. several small carriage shrines were parked on the street for exhibition reasons and to pay tribute to. the second part of the festival was dedicated to a public viewing of a tongue piercing of a young man. how they choose the man or why they do this I couldn't figure out and no one could answer me either. this is what we do every year, they said. i gathered it was some sort of sacrifice or initiation process. the young man was surrounded by a group of about 20 of his kind, all dancing in a circle with instruments, obviously increasingly intoxicated. we were told that as part of the ritual the young man had not slept in 4 days and not eaten. the group of young man circled the city for about 2 hours before the process began. in this time i had the chance to be really close up to the locals. the woman touched me friendly as we leaned up against the wall together tightly, the children smiled and gave me curious looks and everyone was so exhibited about the festival activities. a large group of people danced to loud drums, trance like. as part of the tradition colored powder is thrown into the crowd. i got quiet a lot of it. there is no hiding. the orange and red powder ended up in my hair, on my dress and face. i didn't mind at all and couldn't stop laughing. all part of it. finally, the chosen man was put on a stage where the older town man already prepared the ritual with boiling water, burning butter candles and heating the needle/knife. then he was hived up on stage and put on a chair. i held my breath. in front of thousands of people the long metal, which looked like a double thick kebab metal stick was pushed threw his tongue. everyone was pushing up closer to get a good look. and so i did. seriously - this was no ordinary piercing. the knives/metal pierce was much thicker than anything i have ever seen used on humans. the man bravely did not move. but here comes the topping. after he was lifted back onto the street and then had to carry a large fire ring on his shoulders, plus long metal stick in his tongue and walk around town for another hour in circles through all the streets for the people to see. at this point i felt for him - strongly. strange to me, but very much a normal tradition to the locals. i left once again with new insights and a new experience. perhaps one day someone can tell me what the meaning behind the ritual really is.

Kathmandu - Nepal

I am now in Kathmandu, have been here for almost a week. I was going to spend 4 only but life has it that I ended up staying. Four days I thought would be enough but nope, there is so much do see, so much to do. I had my expectations and people told me about Kathmandu being so dirty and everyone getting sick from the food. The first I can confirm, but let me tell you somehow it gives it a Burning Man feeling here and we all know I like it there a lot. In reality so one has to realize that the people live here this way all the time, with constant dust and dirt all over, everywhere, your nostrils, your cloth, between your toes, in your food, in your bed. The roads are not paved and the shop keepers tasks to sweep along the road side in the morning seems like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in it. People are nice here, lots of smiles. Namaste is the greeting, what can go wrong from there I tell you. Its not an easy town, but unlike Delhi this town doesn't only take, it also gives back. I came here for Buddhist reasons and as such I found lots of history and hidden treasures related. Even though today everything here is mixed with Hinduism, underneath one can find amazing sights and stories, especially when you have a great insider guide like I did. I had the pleasure to be shown around the town by a very special woman from the Buddhist community, who actually lived here a long time and knows the inside outs. I have been to sights no tourist will be able to get to and am fully aware of the privileged situation I am currently in here. And so it came that I was able to give a little of all this back, helping out with some paper work for the Buddhist community. It actually enriched my trip to be useful instead of only lazy and to hunt for the next coffee shop. I was looking to deepen my commitment to my practice and I got that here, naturally.
I am a very visual person and such am taking in everything I see, letting the images impact me in whichever way. Often it's the Tibetan prayer flags dancing in all colors in the wind, the smiling faces, the hanging pieces of fresh cut meat on the side of the road, the rickshaws, the birds, the hot steaming Chai in front of me, the free running monkeys approaching gently to take the piece of banana I offered out of my hand (his fingers touched mine and I squeaked in happiness about the new feeling of his wrinkly skinn on mine). And then again it's the begging woman with her not even dressed child on the side of the road, the sad eyes of the man without legs, the dog missing half of his fur showing all the rip cage, the what used to be a river and is now filled with trash river bank (imagine the smell in addition), the man washing the plates in a bucket on the side of the road in dirty smelly water, the cockroach running across the counter of the cafe at the Stupa (actually this one I only laugh about now). I had a thought today that we are all going to drown in trash some day. I don't think we are far off. The other really big thing here in Kathmandu is the electricity situation. The town is said to have approximately 2Mio people. No one knows exactly. The electricity is such that it runs for maybe 4 hours at a time, for maybe a total of 6-8 hours a day, but you never know exactly when it comes on and when it goes off. So I learned to write my emails in word first and then copy paste quickly and sent quickly. I learned the hard way of course, as three times right in the middle the screen went black. And then from there everyone knows that for the next 4-5 hours there is nothing. So, you get up and go home or do whatever you do without electricity, which in fact is not so much if you think about it. During the day seems fine and having food can be managed with gas, but all else - just think about it. I tried to imagine San Francisco this way and just couldn't. You can't. No wonder I go to bed earlier here with no lights to read any more after 9pm, but I am also up super early at 6 am to catch the most day light I can. I am in the mids of all this what people live here day in (actually I am spoiled being at the hotel with running water and generator for the kitchen) and what I am sensing is how much it controls the people, the power over power. It's oil that rules the world money, but it's power that rules the peoples lives. It simply sucks. Of course I could say, let's go back to how it used to be with candles and tomatoes in the gardens, but this is a big city and going back for us is not an option when you also try to make money and play the game of the world with tourism and world politics. Oh man. All this is not written in your travel hand book, but you get for free.

Random thoughts:
Love the roof top gardens
If I lived here I, too, would ride a motor bike.
I am most busy in my day making sure I am not getting run over.
Traffic rules don't exist
Even a tiny car can manage a otherwise described as four wheel only type road when needed.
The roads trips are a bitch for my back.
Namaste is not only the final words in SF Yoga class.
Buddhist sight or Hindu sight, that is the question.
I an sleep on any mattress now, even the one thats only one centimeter thick and should be called rug.
Here I am gladly vegetarian. I don't have to explain why.
Running water is equal value to gold.
German bakeries are everywhere. I thought we were more famous for the sausage, but no.
This is not my last time in this place. Like Arnold: I'll be back!!

In Delhi again at last

Yup, I am back in Delhi. Actually I have been here for 10 day now again. The town of course is not that nice to stay but the truth is that first of all here I am surrounded by lovely people in the Buddhist institute and near my practice and second I am slightly stuck for recovering and couldnt go anywhere if I wanted to. A week ago, Saturday evening I was meditating in front of the gigantic Buddha statue inside the gompa. I was alone in the large traditional room, sitting on the cussion. It was dark already, only a dim light casting a shadow on the statue and some candles burning. All the sudden the wind picked up, smashing the windows open and close from side to side, blowing wildely passed my face. The candles started flickering, dancing and soon thunder and lighthing was following the wind. The atmosphere was so strong, I loved it. Soon I heard the rain start. Not like rain I know it, but Monsoon like rain fall with the power of an angry goast smashing down onto the earth. I stepped out of the meditation hall to watch for a while and the young boy monks already had gathered in the court yard, enjoying a natural night shower. I loved the smell. Soon I realized it wasnt going to stop and to get to my room I had to run across as quickly as possible. Down the stairs and into the courtyard and then only I realized what a bad idea - running in the rain on marple. Thus moment I fell, legs up in the air and full onto my back. I blacked out for a moment in pain and then awoke to the monks faces, trying to get me up. I screamed with pain I have never felt before. Well, from there I ended up in the emergency room for xrays. Nothing broken they said, but honestly the picture is so milky that you cant even see any bones. The hospital is brand new and people were so nice, although I cant agree with nurses wearing flip flops on duty. In any case, what I was there for were pain killer and those I got plenty. The whole visit including medication and images cost me a full USD20. Thats right my friends, the cheapest health care you can ever imagine and any American can afford. And so now you know what I am doing here, resting and healing. And let me tell you, I have nothing better to do and no better place to be. In essence this incidence helped me stand still for a moment and go into a process of healing practice for myself. All is good for something, I tell you. If I can wear my backpack next week then Ill be off to Nepal for a few days. And I think I will. Much love and blessings to all of you.

Bhutan - oh what can I say

I know I should write about Bhutan. There must be something to say about this country. Well the truth is there is, but how to find words....
Just imagine a country stuffed with beauty, people living and breathing Buddhism to the point where even the animals are blissed out on the side of the road and something that I cant describe - the way time moves here. Sorry, I cant go on and Ill stick to it - there is no way I am going to do justice here in finding words. I suggest any of you who are interested in hearing more, come over and Ill share some pictures and a good glass of something, then perhaps my face and eyes will tell more than any words could. In short, I feel blessed to have been able to experience this trip to a sanctuary of a country, a treasure I hope can be protected for a long long time.