Thursday, November 13, 2014

What I learned- The Pregnancy Edition

I imagined pregnancy to be this life-affirming magical period in which I woke up every morning with rays of sunshine streaming from my vagina.  THEN, I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test and my world shifted.  

I've been enamored with pregnancyfor years.  Even when I wasn't sold on having my own children, I considered being a surrogate solely so that I could know what it was like. To me, being pregnant and carrying a child was the most amazing natural experience that a woman could have.  You grow a person and without thinking your entire body just KNOWS what to do.  It's primal. It's nature at it's best.  After having the life-changing experience of assisting one of my girlfriends during the birth of her first child, I knew I wanted to be a doula.  I read books. I'd gone to classes.  I thought I had it down.  One quick shift in perspective and the whole narrative changes. I would no longer be a supporting character who helped girlfriends through their pregnancies, I would be the star of this ordeal. 

The truth is, seeing those lines scared the crap of me.  As I've gone through this experience and spoken candidly with other ladies, I decided to stop giving the standard "everything is great" generic answers and just being real. If I could go back 10 months to a newly-pregnant me, I would tell her the following: 

1. It's okay to freak out. 
I wigged out... big time. I spent the better part of my pregnancy completely and totally freaked out.  It took 6 months for me to verbalize that although I had no fears about birth itself, everything else completely terrified me.  I was afraid this baby was going to ruin my career, my marriage, my friendships, and my body. You know, pretty much everything.   The more I've admitted this to other women, the more they have acknowledged the same fears.  Pregnancy & parenthood are big unknowns.  Of course you're going to be afraid. Instead of avoiding your fears, talk about them. Own them. Shine a light on them so that you can process the fears. Name them. Give them space and be okay being afraid. 

2. Hearing "everything will be fine" only minimized what I was feeling. 
I didn't want cheerleaders.  I wanted someone to understand that right in that moment there was no guarantee to me that everything would be fine.  Part of me knew that they were right, but in those melt-down moments,  you just want someone to walk with you through the dark and twisty forest, not fast forward to the happy ending.  

3. People offering to help does not mean they don't think you are capable. It means they care. 
Initially, I was hell bent on doing everything for myself.  I found myself spouting phrases like "I'm pregnant - not disabled."  In time, I realized it came from my own insecurities about the changes I was facing. I didn't want to be seen as weak or incompetent at work or at home.  This shifted the bigger I got and the more comfortable I became.  People want to help because they want to help. Let them.  It builds your community.  Accepting a helping hand does not make you weak. In fact, it can help build relationships.  As I work through new motherhood, I realize this is still something I need to focus on. 

4. Being pregnant isn't limited to out-of-office hours.  I don't believe in crying at work. You can judge me for that if you'd like, but it's against my personal policy. This rule, well, it was broken a few times this year.  Early on, I did my best to hide these changes in tides- escaping to the bathroom, spending a few extra minutes in my car or bottling everything up until I could deal with it at home.  This only worked for so long.  Soon those pesky feelings managed to seep through and I found myself at their mercy - crying on the shoulder of an unsuspecting coworker in the hall.  It was forced vulnerability and from that moment on, I wasn't afraid to have real feelings 9-5.  In fact, the more I embraced them, the easier it was to be comfortable later in my pregnancy when things were undeniably changing.  

5. As a general rule, the more I resisted, the worse everything became.  From riding emotional waves, to not listening to my body when it came to rest, or not putting on maternity clothes sooner, I found very quickly that the more I resisted the changes I was going through, the more severe they became. I was already pregnant. I couldn't control what was happening to me, it just needed to happen.  The more I was able to give in, the more I was able to feel my way through experiences instead of spending so much of my energy pushing against them (Thank you, India). 

6. Stop Judging. I was judging other women very harshly.   Early on, I found myself on a high horse "I will never do.." "Why would anyone.." I was a know-it-all and even a bit of an asshole.  I'm not entirely sure when I came to this realization, but it's been one of my favorite truths and the one that is at the forefront of my mind every day.  The thing is, I don't know, but I do have preferences.  We all do.  That does not make them correct.  What is right for you, is not going to be right for someone else. It's okay to be impassioned about your preferences.  Know when to discuss and know when people really don't want to hear your advice.   I have preferences about how I would like to deliver my baby and raise my child, but I will not be arrogant and say this is the only way.  Instead of looking at how differently two women have done something, look for the ways in which you can support each other. Stop Judging.

7.  Be here now.  At the end of the day, pregnancy is beautiful and it will end.  There's something amazing about creating life.  Strangers treat you differently.  Your partner looks at you with reverence. People are nicer and the world gets smaller. Everyone is more gentle with you. Napping is allowed. Second helpings are encouraged.  Feeling your baby's hiccups and kicks - regardless of how appropriate the timing (like in meetings with clients) are insanely amusing. Enjoy the newness and revel in the firsts. Never again will you be in a position to feel these things for the first time. Take a moment and etch all of it in your mind.  That little peanut causing your heart burn is the safest they will ever be and life will never be the same after they are born. Enjoy the calm.

Someone told me that pregnancy is the only time where two souls exist in one body.  In the times I struggled most, that image pushed me through.   Pregnancy is hard and it's scary and it's also beautiful and inspiring. It's celebratory and somber - we celebrate a new life while mourning the end of our own childhood. You may be surprised how much you miss it one day. 








Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A Totally New Year: India, Nepal & After

We spent New Years Day exploring Kathmandu and the surrounding area- concentrating much of our time in the area called Boudha where one of the largest Buddhist stupas in the world exists.  The city was flowing in prayer flags. Tourists, monks & locals overwhelmed the center of the square- walking the stupa in prayer.  T.J. and I ate lunch on a rooftop and enjoyed birds-eye views of the magnificent structure.  Om Mani Padme Hum played everywhere, bringing a meditative quiet to the whole afternoon.  While T.J. took photos elsewhere, I enjoyed solitude on the stupa - wanting to give the new year space to come into existence while sitting with the one that had just past.




Our last tourist stop was a monkey temple over looking the entire city of Kathmandu. It was from our perch you could see the vast population below and really understand the density of the area.  There of course, were monkeys and they were of course, most adorable and curious. 




After freshening up, we met our fellow travelers-turned-friends for one final dinner.  We shared Tibetan bread and tried a fermented beer drink that tasted like hot yeasty bread - not bad but not good either.  It was just weird. There were of course, momos. What I remember most about the meal is just how good it felt to be with them all one more time and how perfect it felt to spend our last night with these people who we did not know existed three weeks prior, but now felt strange thinking that we wouldn't see them again anytime soon.   Our evening ended with hugs and promises to visit and to stay in touch. It was like summer camp.  
The smallest vendor

The next day, after indulging in a decadent day of hotel spa services and one more drink in the Kunti bar, we prepared to head to the airport to board a plane home to LA.  In the car, T.J. and I both noticed the same chant playing that we'd heard the previous day in Boudha. Om Mani Padme Hum- Nepal was guiding us out as softly as we entered.




Back in LA 
T.J.'s adventure stance
The trip home is a blur. Between jet lag and too many thoughts to fully piece together, it took days to come back to earth.  The disparity between our home and where we had been felt painfully obvious.

Driving felt weird. Los Angeles felt foreign. Brushing my teeth and showering was different. The lens in which I'd been viewing life had been altered in some way.  In between visits with friends, I began to feel our narrative come together and was able to finally start comprehending the vast impact our trip had on me.  We found themes and through lines.  Every night I went to bed dreaming about mustard fields and prayer flags.  Even now, those are the places my mind wanders to when I need relief.   It became commonplace to enter our home and hear the chant we'd heard in Nepal. The trip had changed me. It changed us.

The contrast between these two neighboring countries was amazing.  India, well, India made you work for it. It was unapologetic - You either coped or you didn't. Move in rhythm with the rest of the country or get hit by a rickshaw or stopped behind a cow. India didn't care.  Nepal had a more gentle hand. Nepal gave you space, guided you softly while still providing reminders of the wonder around you. Perhaps it was the mix of Hindu & Buddhist influences, the sweeping landscapes or more likely, the fact that Nepal depends on the tourism industry for much of the country's income.  In the end, like two vastly different best friends, I loved them both for entirely separate reasons and neither more than the other.

Back at home, T.J. got busy with grad school applications and I dove head-first into work.  Within a few weeks, I noticed my prized string that had hung around my neck since Lumbini had fallen off.   We were moving on with day to day life.  What we didn't know was that India was still working on us. We just didn't realize the full extent.   

While putting the final trinkets away from our trip, I moved the unopened prayer flags into our office.  As I set them on the shelf, I looked around and had vision of them hanging above a crib.  I mentioned this to T.J. and we laughed about how great it would be to tell our someday child about our adventures. For he or she to know that we had thought of them prior to even knowing they existed.  It turns out our someday baby would be sooner than we anticipated.

The universe had been giving us signs for weeks - the purchase of the red elephant in Pokhara, the banter about storks and stowaways, my obsession with bringing back multiple pairs of comfie pants for my someday pregnancy, the vision of prayer flags over a crib.  In the moments between exploring the world, pushing our limits and learning to give in, we were giving life to our family.

India taught me the beauty found in breathing in instead of resisting the things I don't understand. It taught me to let go of control and simply ride the experience.  In Nepal, I learned to be more still.  It energized my spirit and helped clear my vision.  The trip taught my husband and I how to be scared together and figure things out as a team when neither of us knew the answer.  The lessons have carried us through 9 months of intense change - physically and emotionally. Pregnancy really has been an extension of that trip - giving myself over to the moment, keeping humor as my guiding principle & never quite knowing if what I just ate will make me sick. 

7 months pregnant 
As I sit finishing this, I think about our son who will be born any day now. Will we ever be able to fully explain the gravity of our trip? Will it make sense when we tell him that although I didn't know why at the time, that I'm convinced that he was the one that pulled us on that journey?  Will he understand that his spirit was in every one of those memories for us and although we weren't aware he existed yet, that we felt him long before we knew who or what he was?  

I hope that some part of him will revel in knowing that he's not only made of me and his dad, but also the adventure which created him.  



Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Rhinos & Momos: India & Nepal Part 5

We saw rhinos doing it.

Rhinos. There are two. Look closely. 


Chitwan National Park was already hitting high marks in our memory books. Our early morning canoe ride had an unexpected surprise. Rhinos.  This was absolutely fascinating to everyone- including our guide.  




Elephants- our favorite. 
Chitwan was 360 square miles of preserved ground.  From vast mustard seed fields to vividly painted elephants, the air felt clean and the landscape was vast.  Our pace had slowed.  Later that afternoon, we went on a safari with our group through the the park - rumor had it that one jeep had spotted the illusive Bengal tiger, but our folks just managed to spot some storks which sparked a brief moment of banter involving bringing home a Nepalese baby through customs and me advising those storks to keep flying.


We also found a lot of silliness- like... a LOT.  Over the last few days, our entire travel group had really begun to gel.  Very quickly, I was falling head over heals in love with these people who were strangers just a week earlier. That's what hours on end in buses will do. Nepal also just felt easier. 

From Chitwan we traveled by public transport to Pokhara, a trekking town 30 miles from the Annapurna range. The views were breath taking.  The air was clean. That night, our whole group went out for dinner and I encountered my first of many momos.  Momos are a Nepalese dumpling stuffed with veggies or meat and served with a soup-type sauce for dipping. They were amazing. Dinner turned to large pours of red wine for me and Long Island ice-teas for a few of our friends. Hangovers felt looming, but the wine felt better.  Caution had been thrown to the wind. 

World Peace Pagoda 
The next day, after a trip to the World Peace Pagoda and more tremendous views, T.J. and I took the opportunity to do some much desired shopping. We found prayer flags to remind us of Lumbini, beautiful woolen blankets, a handmade elephant quilt, and I began my search for the perfect pairs of pants which continued through the remainder of our trip.  We found trinkets for everyone.  In one particular store, The Women Skill Development Organization, T.J. fell in love with a handmade stuffed elephant. We decided to bring one home for a friend and at the last minute decided to purchase a red one for our some-day kiddo. 

The following morning, we traveled by bus to Kathmandu.  The largest city in Nepal.  After getting settled into our hotel rooms. we went out for one last family dinner and night on the town.  Kathmandu had a similar city vibe to India, but still felt far less intimidating due to the strong tourist nature.  After a great meal, we headed to a hookah bar for more drinks. A few from our group would head out the next day.  The bar was dark, we sat on pillows with our shoes off, drank rum and smoked too many cigarettes. There was an acoustic guitarist playing everything from Radiohead to Tom Petty and he was good.  I almost wish he had a cd, although I know now, that it wouldn't have sounded as good anywhere else. It was a perfect vision of a group of strangers that had joined paths briefly and would part again soon. He played Stand By Me and the hair on my arms stood on end. This was one of those moments that would stay with me for the rest of my life. There are very few times I've been aware of those moments.  One was on my wedding day and this was another. We were all present in the truest sense of the word and it was grand.  

video


Everest! 
New Years Eve morning, T.J. and I, along with a few group members boarded a small airplane for a vision of Mt. Everest.  It was our homage to T.J.'s grandpa, Ralph, who nearly 50 years before had been in Kathmandu managing construction of communications towers under Sir Edmund Hillary. We had to see her. After flying so close to her, I can't quite fathom what would posses someone to climb that mountain. Nonetheless, it was absolutely amazing.  We had seen Everest upclose and personal. Bucket List item- checked. 


T.J. celebrates our arrival to Hotel Shanker 
In honor of the new year and the ending of our trip, we opted to upgrade and spend our last few days at Hotel Shanker- an old palace turned luxury hotel.   Much of our trip had been budget-friendly. We had modest accommodations that often included cold or lukewarm water and questionable mattresses. The Hotel Shanker felt anything but modest. We both reveled in taking the hottest shower we could stand.  I believe I even shaved my legs for the first time in two weeks. TMI? Well, you're the one reading this. Talk about indulgent.  



Our NYE dates
For the New Year celebrations, we met the remaining tour group members at an expat bar towards the center of the town for dancing and drinks.  Locals mixed with the tourists. People were dancing on tables. It felt very comfortable yet so foreign.  People, no matter where you are in the world, love New Years Eve.  I'm not sure if it's the excuse to have drinks and hug strangers or if there's something sweeter to relishing the beginning of something new.  Maybe both. I think for me it's both.




One Long Exhale: India & Nepal Part 4

We woke up early on Christmas morning and traveled by private vehicles from Varanasi, India to the border of Nepal.  Travel and border crossing took the majority of the day and due to my lingering chest cold, we called it an early night after sharing Christmas dinner with our fellow travelers.  


The next day, we boarded a bus for the short trip to Lumbini- the birthplace of Siddhartha Gautama who would later become known to the world as Buddha.  More than anything, this had been my most anticipated stop on our journey and a large reason we picked our specific tour.  After our visit to Sarnath, I was mildly hesitant- nervous that this too would be lackluster and uneventful.  As we drove, we saw the countryside of Nepal was similar to India- stunning yellow mustard fields and farmland stretched for miles.  New feelings of peace quickly blended with my already present anticipation as we approached the sacred grounds.
Endless Prayer Flags- Endless Prayers
As we walked near the grounds, prayer flags scattered through the trees amplifying the intensity of the sacred nature of the area.  They waved gently in the wind while we walked- brushing our arms with remnant air of others' prayers. I found my way into a small temple outside of the grounds and without much thought, took my shoes off and went in for a moment of quiet chanting.  As I was finishing, a monk entered. After exchanging pleasantries and talking for a few minutes, he looked at me with twinkle in his eye "I like you." "I like you, too" I replied with a smile and giggle.  He then tied a white piece of string around my neck, offered a blessing of health and love. I was on my way. I would wear that string until it fell off long after we returned home from our travels and to this day, this was my single most favorite interaction of our whole trip.

Monks & Motorbikes 


T.J. met me outside and we walked to the Gardens of Lumbini to see the exact spot that Buddha was believed to be born.  The entire area must be walked barefoot- no shoes are allowed within the walls. I'm convinced the act of walking barefoot in this area helped further ground visitors to the profound energy of such a beautiful place.  You could feel it in every cell and it was unlike any sensation I have ever experienced.  It was a peaceful living energy that washed over everything. Nothing seemed more appropriate than to meditate and pray. In those moments, we were still for the first time in over a week. Although I'd found time to pray during our trip, this was the first time where it felt truly out of thanks instead of necessity.  

India had been a beautiful assault to every part of my senses- challenging me, forcing me to jump head first out of my comfort zone and into a new culture and let go. The excitement was both invigorating and exhausting.  The visit to Lumbini was the beginning of one long meditative exhale that would last the duration of our trip.

Next Post: Chitwan, Girl- Go 'head Chitwan 






Thursday, September 11, 2014

A New Definition of Dirty & Christmas Non-Christian India Part 3

Me & T.J at the Taj Mahal
Maybe it was the burning smell that we encountered our first few days in New Delhi.  Maybe it was the nerves.  Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to talk to my travel companions.  Maybe it was all of these or none of these reasons, but India made me want to smoke.  The taste of the smoke on my lips and the quiet calm felt by every exhale was comforting during our travel times.  Within 48 hours, I had decided that I would be a smoker the remainder of our trip.

Apparently my body didn't love this idea.  After spending two days in Agra- home of the Taj Mahal and the most lively Pizza Hut I've ever encountered, I woke up to an uneasy feeling of sick in my chest. Our travel plans originally included an overnight train from Agra to Varanasi.  This quickly turned into a 6 am train due to fog.  As we boarded the train, we saw our home for the next several hours: open space compartments with benches that turned into cots. Each compartment slept 6.  I decided to take a deep breath and lay may head down on my backpack while strapping my day pack to my chest.  This would do.  I could feel the chest cold inching its way into my body slowly wearing down my ability to care about anything other than sleep.   The train started moving and I quickly fell into a deep sleep- hardly conscious to anything that was happening around me and confident that I'd wake up more than half way to Varanasi.   India had other plans.  

After my nap, I learned we'd been stuck on the train tracks for more than 6 hours but were hardly half way into our journey. We'd stopped moving hours ago.  The fog was intense and travel times were going to be delayed indefinitely.  The train would inch forward and then pause. Inch forward and then pause.  It became clear that this would be a much longer trip than 12 hours.  As we moved through stations, I fell in and out of sleep waking only for minor snacks and sips of hot chai tea that stewards would bring through.  The hot chai soothed my very sick throat and I could hear T.J. struggle to avoid  judgement as he helped me rest.   I-told-you-so's would not make either situation better.

The energy in the train was restless.  Our group had not anticipated this delay and found it difficult to maintain the fearless composure that had kept everyone in light-hearted spirits the previous days.  The unexpected time meant that our conditions were grimey and all of us had very little to do other than be aware of how desperate we were for a shower or even a sit down commode.  The chest cold had made me achy and uncomfortable.  This was not helped by the rocky conditions of my "pillow" or the cramping my stomach had decided to provide - an indication as to what was to come.  

I stumbled my way into the squat potties and saw the punchline to the joke that India had laid the ground work for weeks before.  My tracking app had informed me that during our 3 week stay I would.. well, have my lady time.  Little did I know that fate had conspired to make this the most memorable period of my life.  Defeat began to overwhelm me.  I was sick.  I was tired. I was very dirty and now, now on top of all things, I was on my period.  Of all the conditions in all of the places,  of course, it would happen here.  Sweet life.  My eyes brimmed with tears and I prepared to initiate full meltdown mode.   My finger hovered over the metaphorical red world-ending button for a moment and then, the button vanished.  I gave in.  One deep cleansing breath and my sense of humor was revived.  I actually laughed to myself and congratulated India on the well-timed joke.  Once again, instead of resisting the struggle, I gave into the experience and just let it guide me.  

Back in our compartment, I told T.J. what happened.  We giggled. His pride at my near-but-not-wig-out reassured me that everything would be okay.  This was character building.   After sleeping off and on for 12 hours, T.J. and I started venturing into other compartments to visit with our fellow travelers.  There we found laughter, proper jackassery and a few delicious biscuits that the group had purchased at one of our delays.   The mood was shifting. In those moments we went from crummy conditions to some of the things that solidified our bond.  

We arrived in  the holy city of Varanasi early in the morning on  Christmas Eve- over 24 hours from the time we initially boarded the train in Agra.  After wiping down every single millimeter of our luggage and investing in the hotel laundry, we laid down to rest before our day of exploring this most ancient city.  
Order among chaos - the streets of Varanasi  

Varanasi is the oldest most continuously inhabited city in the world and sits on the banks of the holiest of all rivers in the Hindu culture- the Ganges.  We woke and set out on a journey to visit Sarnath, the place of Buddha's first sermon.  We walked up to the grounds and saw worn down statues surrounded by a fence - not nearly the impact I was expecting.  The disappointment was strong, but decidedly not worth focusing on.  We would be in Lumbini in a few days and I would have my time with Buddha later.

Later that evening, we were driven by cycle rickshaws down to the banks of the Ganges river and boarded a wooden boat.  There, Jai explained the significance of the city and the river in which we were on.  At sunset every evening, city inhabitants, spiritual Pilgrims and tourists gather at the banks for evening prayers.  In life and death, the Ganges is cleansing.  People believe that bathing in the river washes away all previous sins.  In death, it is believed that by spreading your ashes in the river, the cycle of reincarnation is broken.  That is why cremation ceremonies occur 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
Our intentions 
We lit candles and released our wishes into the holy water.  As they were released, the sounds of chanting from the banks blended into the gentle wind that helped carry our guides along.  From the water you could see the lights from the cremation ceremonies further down.  The mood was serious- but not sad.  The circle of life felt clear as the bodies burned into the river that also provides so much sustenance for the countries it flows through.  In those moments, my mind drifted to visions of our families at home, celebrating Christmas Eve dinner and opening gifts in the cold Midwestern winters.  I locked the moment away and will never forget the feeling of wholeness that came from spending such a traditionally Christan holiday in such a different place.

India was ending. Tomorrow we would cross the border into Nepal.

Merry Christmas from Varanasi, India 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Deer Parks & Dhoom 3: India Part 2

As the days went on, India started to make more sense. The truths I started to understand in Delhi & Pushkar cemented as we moved to Jaipur.  And more often than not, it was my own illusions that were proven wrong.

I'm not always comfortable with public displays of affection.  This may shock some of you. I joked with my husband that one of the reasons I wanted to go to India was so that we didn't have to hold hands in public, since public displays of affection are generally frowned upon.  So imagine my surprise when I saw groups of men walking hand-in-hand or pinkie-to-pinkie. I initially thought this was in protest to the recent rulings regarding homosexuality, but quickly learned that it had nothing to do with sexual preference: it's simply a gesture saying "I'm proud this guy is my best friend". The gentle gesture made me smile every time this occurred.

Although it's completely fine to show your friend you care for them by holding hands in public, for lovers the outlet is more refined.  Affection isn't taken for granted. Couples often gather in deer parks or other public parks to canoodle. This seemed so progressive, so soft in a country that had presented itself to me to be quite calloused.  Once again, India was proving me wrong.  I washed my western views away and looked at these scenes for what they were.  They were intentional actions. They were loving. They just weren't sprawled out in front of everyone for full view.

My definitions changed with my perceptions. What I saw as chaos wasn't actually chaos- it was just a different rhythm. This was brought to full view while on the city orientation walk in Jaipur.  We managed to get an amazing aerial view of one of the main roundabouts in Jaipur while climbing on top of a roof. On the ground, the traffic felt chaotic still. As we climbed and gained perspective, you saw the flow. It was rhythmic and beautiful. That said...  I would still never want to drive in it.

video

One of our optional activities in this city known for jewels involved seeing a Bollywood film. Due to my inability to stay awake during movies without subtitles, I wasn't too keen on going.   T.J. really wanted to go, so in the spirit of compromise, I agreed.  Jai (our Chief Experience Officer) explained that this was not only a Bollywood film, but that we would be going on opening night of Dhoom 3- the third installment in a film featuring 3 of India's top movie stars.  Tickets were increasingly hard to come by, which peaked my interest more.  Maybe this would be interesting after all.

We arrive and the Raj Mandir theater is packed. Rows of motorbikes filled the side lot and people were yelling for available tickets.  Inside, we were enveloped in pink. Pink everywhere.  If Barbie had designed a movie theater, she would have picked this.  It was amazing. It was loud.  As we settled into our seats, I kept waiting for the standard hush as we're used to during movies in the US.

This never happened.

The moment the film started, the crowd cheered loudly as their favorite characters came on-screen.  They whistled when the female lead entered and one man even took a phone call during the film.  Before I realized, our whole group was clapping and hooting and hollering along with the locals.

Dhoom 3 is a buddy cop film that follows two detectives brought to Chicago from India to investigate a string of mysterious bank robberies. The movie was fantastical filled with ridiculous action sequences including a motorcycle turned wave runner turned submarine.  There are long breaks for dance numbers, multiple plot twists, love triangles and a tremendous amount of mood & suspense.

The film had no English subtitles, but you didn't need them.  We were able to understand the arc through gestures, music and facial expressions.  Every now and then a young child sitting behind us would reach up and stroke my blonde hair that managed to hang over the back of the chair.  This was India.   People were rejoicing in the characters plot lines and cheered loudly at the grand finale.  Once again to my surprise, I didn't fall asleep during the film. In fact, it was energizing. It was as if for that three hour period (yes, with intermission) everyone was able to take a break, relax and think of nothing other than the film in front of them.

It turns out that I love Bollywood.  How had I missed this before? How could seeing one film change this?
Bollywood films never made sense to me because I had no context of the culture in which it was born. Indian life is hard. It's loud.  Indian people live modestly and out in the open, yet reserved all at the same time. Bollywood films offer their viewers an escape from the day to day stress of existing.

It was in Jaipur that I started to understand the cultural complexities of India.  There were so many layers to unearth. Initially, it was about accepting where we were to find some form of bearings. Bit by bit we were able to begin the process of peeling each layer back to find what really lies beneath in some attempt to find out what drew us both here. India may be repressive, but people manage to find these public outlets for expression. Whether it's in the darkness of a packed theater while watching your favorite film loudly, walking hand in hand with your best friend or taking a quiet moment with your lover in a park, people always find a release. These valves help to release the pressure of daily life.

With a belly full of the best tandoori chicken I had ever had in my life, I went to sleep content that evening. It was all making sense -- we'd moved beyond just not freaking out in this foreign place, and toward seeing the true value and the deeper meaning in experiencing another exotic form of daily life.  India was making its mark.

Next post: A New Definition of Dirty & Christmas Non-Christian





Thursday, March 13, 2014

They Stare at Foreigners: India Part 1

My husband and I were visiting family in Florida when the realization hit.  I had to go to India.  We had spoken about our desire to travel  before, and although I hadn't visited anywhere outside North America,we tabled the journey due to debt and a desire to start a family.  How very responsible of us.  The world would be there. We should save. Get out of debt. Be grownups.  

Flash forward a few months. I can't be certain if it was the trip to Disney; seeing swarms of families while our family remained just one possibility in a hazy future that resisted all planning. Perhaps it was simply a moment of clarity...all I knew was that we has to go. T.J. agreed and soon the pieces to our journey fell into place.  My company supports travel.  T.J. was able to request additional time from work.  Our short term loan for the bulk of the expenses got approved with ease. We found a great travel company that focused on younger travelers. This was happening.

Why India? It was the most foreign place I could imagine that was relatively safe to travel to.  It looked hard.  Something about the images and the food felt stripped down yet so flavorful.  I needed to be shook up.  I wanted the challenge. Something just told me to "Jump". 

What a better way to learn about travel then to dive in head first into a third world country?  Most folks seemed both impressed and nervous for us to go. 

"Dye your hair."
"Are you sure you want to go to India?"
"Are you dying your hair?"
"They stare at foreigners."
"Two words. Squat. Potties."
"Bring toilet paper and lots of hand sanitizer"

I'd like to say that I never panicked.  That I never second guessed our choice. That fate propelled us forward with blinding optimism.  But that's false.  I did panic.  I second guessed this trip from the moment we landed in Delhi and understood to our cores what third world really meant.  It went from colorful NatGeo photos to real life real quick.  I will never forget the acrid smell in the air walking off the plane in New Delhi at midnight on Sunday. We'd been traveling 24 hours and our senses were immediately heightened by the sheer shock. Had there been a fire in the airport?  Was all of India burning?  What was going on?  Instinct made me immediately grasp T.J's hand for a reassuring squeeze and then immediately retract after remembering that men and women should not show affection in public. 

It took hours to talk myself out of bed the first morning.  The sky was colored with a yellow haze and I still wasn't convinced we hadn't landed in a war zone. Why had we come here? Why couldn't we just have decided to go to Europe like every other good american?   The first day in India was about relearning how to function day to day.   We were stared at everywhere we went, sometimes politely, sometimes not.  People snapped photos- we were a novelty. A joke?
 It was both flattering and uncomfortable but there was nothing we could do.


Everything we knew- all the day to day rules were out the window. Make sure to check the bottle water caps. Only eat and shake hands with your right hand.  Don't look beggars in the eye. No affection in public.  Someone shaking their head no means agreement.  Don't eat fresh veggies. Wash everything with bottled water. Hand Sanitizer is your best friend.  Don't forget your deet spray, anti-malarias and money belt. Crossing the street was stressful. Driving was stressful. Ordering lunch was stressful. Question everything.  India felt chaotic and unsafe.

And then, we steadied ourselves.  The first sigh of relief came from a dress shop owner in Canaught Place.  I'd stopped in looking for a more traditional tunic.  My husband noticed that there was a book on Nichiren Buddhism by the counter.   We were quickly engaged in discussion with this amazing soul who practiced the same form of chanting I did.  And the world got smaller and India felt warm and before I knew it, I was hugging a stranger turned friend in a country that doesn't encourage affection. 

On our third day, we met with our group for the first time and traveled from New Delhi to Pushkar, a holy town a few hours away by train. The town was filled with travelers, both local and foreign and much of the town was closed off from vehicles.  The air was clear and the sounds of distant chanting filtered through with the breeze.  T.J. & I along with a few others opted for a sunset camel ride through the country side as a treat.  Initially, my American fear took over as my "vehicle" stood up. There was no harness keeping me safe, no seat belt on these beautiful animals.  



"What if I fall? There goes the rest of my adventure."
"Oh no, what are the hospitals like here?" "How far IS the nearest hospital?"
"They would never allow this in the States"

The setting of the sun against green fields of farm and mustard flowers distracted me just long enough to take my breath away.  The woman using a hand plow in an orange sari looked like a painting.  I locked eyes with the gypsy children who had ran to the road to get a peek at the foreigners.  What were they thinking looking at us looking at them? Then there was the sunset again. Oh the sunset. And then, I quieted and the internal chanting that had been calming me since sitting in the seat at LAX took over. 

Instead of fighting against or trying to put this new world into the context of my own, I opened my soul to the fear of the unknown and trusted that we were headed down the right path and that although we didn't know WHY we needed to come here, that the beauty would lie in just letting go.

My fear of falling evaporated and in its place, a swelling sense of freedom.  

Where would this journey take us next? 

The next post will be on how opening night of a Bollywood film changed my views on Indian Culture. Stay tuned.




Friday, January 17, 2014

2013 in Life Lessons

It may be sentimental or trite, but I can't help but feel excitement at the beginning of every year.  It's my chance to take personal inventory about what happened in the past 12 months.  It's the time to look at all of the things that were really happening while we were busy living our lives in hopes to find singular truths.  The results from the introspection aren't always fluttery and light. Sometimes, they are the gritty life lessons that are hard to admit to yourself, let alone put on paper so that they can stare you in the face.  It's for those moments of clarity I write this list.  

In 2013 I learned: 

-  To no longer use busy as an excuse.  We are all busy. No one is more or less busy. It’s about making time when it’s important.  

- Showing vulnerability does not always equate to weakness. It equates to realness. Business is not always the place to be vulnerable. It can be, but be wise and know when it is not. 

- To breathe in to situations that are difficult instead of retracting. Confrontation, regardless of the circumstance, can not always be avoided. It did not kill me, it made me less afraid. 

- I still let fear rule too many areas of my life. This is a work in progress lesson. 

- To embrace the people and situations that offer opposition and be thankful for the opportunity to question and grow. 

-  To turn my introverted tendencies into talking points, not career stoppers. 

-  The best decisions in my life have been the ones I've made based on instinct not over-thinking. 

- Culture shock is real. It’s scary. It’s overwhelming. But at the end of the day,  it is just something else to overcome. 

-  To accept that when I have said I can't do something, it has most often meant that I am unwilling to do something. 

-  For every step forward, it’s okay to take one or two more to adjust.  Moving forward is important, but so is taking a moment to steady yourself before moving on.

- The stories we tell ourselves become the novels we live.  Negative self talk only results in negative endings.  Say it again, now. 

Next year I hope to:
- make more space in life for those I love and the things I love. Making space means that I'll have to let go of a few things in the process. Bring it on. 
- stop apologizing so often and stop minimizing my thoughts. 
- spend less/save more (Still didn't conquer that one)

A nod to my favorite band: 
Matt Pryor, of The Get Up Kids fame, wrote a great song about New Years.  He wrote "Don't let the pouring rain, temper your day-by-day. Don't let the bones the closet may hold get in the way.  After a long dark night, bathe in the morning light.  Then take your return, the lesson you learned: You'll get it right."

We're all just trying to get it right. So may your 2014 be filled with growth. May you have patience with yourself and with others and keep a sense of good humor throughout the process.  You may call it trite or sentimental.  That's okay. To me,  it's just faith in power of change.  

Happy 2014!