A Mind is a Terrible Thing

Hiya folks.  It’s late, so I’ll keep this particular post relatively short — especially since we’re leaving for the ashram early tomorrow afternoon.

On the whole, today went much more smoothly than previous days.  We managed to buy a refrigerator, some custom-made picture frames, a few Telagu language books, a present for a friend, some religious statuary, a couple of gorgeous Pashmina wool shawls, two umbrellas, and two huge bags of general household goods (waste baskets, brushes, dustpan, ice cube trays, etc.).

We also had better luck with the bank today, although it wasn’t total.  Our FMA account is actually responding at this point, but we couldn’t get all the cash we wanted — and there isn’t supposed to be any sort of limit.  Still, we got something, which is better than nothing.

In one instance, in fact involving the trip to the bank and later to pick up the completed picture frames, we actually averted an unwanted rickshaw ride to some shop somewhere not by bailing on the ride, but by actually talking with the driver.  Managing to convince him we really did need to get to our errands and no other.  Nice fellow, actually, having trouble getting his kids into a good school.  (Some details of the human condition never change, do they?)

Anyway, it was a terribly long day, with four separate trips out and little time to rest.  I’m going to go ahead and take care of that lack right now.

G’nite… and if I don’t post again before we leave for the ashram, the next time you hear from me will be from Penukonda.

Ciao!
-Becca

Good evening (for it is after 8pm here in India), my Imaginary Readers!

Today was another day of shopping and exploration here in Bangalore, a city such huge variety in everything, it boggles the mind.  It seems strange at times, walking down a street and seeing women in saris, chadors, and even western-style clothes.  Likewise the men, although it seems more of them do wear western-style stuff — slacks and dress shirts with ties.  I spotted a few Asian folks, and while we were shopping for a mattress, we ran into a German couple — who in fact were buying stuff in preparation for the same ashram to which we’re going.  At least that’s what it sounded like.

But first, a little anecdote about the subject header of this post.  We left the Ballal this morning, intending this day instead of taking a hired car just to make our way around town in the little motorized kerosene-powered auto-rickshaws that are almost everywhere.  We were quickly flagged down by a guy who said he’d take us to our destination — Commercial Street — for 20 Rs.

Well, we got hijacked, albeit temporarily.  Once we realized he was heading away, further west to some place where he kept insisting we wanted to shop, we threatened to bolt w/out paying.  That got his attention and he took us to Commercial Street.  Seriously IRs, this does point up the importance of knowing where you are in the city and where you’re going.  I would actually recommend at this point that if you really don’t know the city, one should stick to hired cars.  Mind, we did okay because we did know our erstwhile shopping guide was heading the wrong way — but that took a number of days being here to be familiar enough to know it.

We spent most of the day in and around the Commercial Street and Infantry Road areas and between these.  We dropped off a Punjabi dress I’d had made last February to be altered, and also my wool Irish cape to be copied in cotton and raw silk (it’s gonna be a fab garment).  Then we purchased some more appliances, a hammer and mallet, and also some additional major furniture for the apartment, again through the help of our new acquaintance, Umar, at Matrix Furniture.  Yesterday was office furniture and a custom-designed cabinet for storing clothes.  Today, we chose a bed, end-tables, and a shelf unit.  Plus we bought a foam mattress.

The financial leelas continue, however, with ongoing problems with our financial management account.  We made some very large deposits just before we left — a bridging loan against the sale of our house, plus the proceeds from the sale of our Prius.  For whatever reason, we can’t seem to get at anything in that account, and any attempt to use our Mastercard-logo’d FMA cards results in declined transactions.  Our broker is on the situation, but I also took the opportunity to let him know that we are really not happy with this level of service.  We got the FMA precisely to avoid these kinds of hassles.

We’ll figure it out, and we’re not in any immediate danger of going broke — we’ve some cash and our regular credit cards are working fine.  But the bulk of our funds will be in that FMA, and with the sale of the house coming up, it’s clearly a matter of concern to us if that money is not available for us here in India.

Anyway, we had a lovely early dinner at the Oberoi.  Then we avoided getting hijacked a second time.  ("Uh huh.  Just 10 Rs to get back to the Bellal…but first you show me this card of a place where you say I can get big discounts?  Sorry, not interested." — we got out of that rickshaw right quick, and didn’t get into another until we found a guy who promised to take us where we wanted to go…which he almost managed.  About 2 blocks away, the corner of MG and Brigade, which was okay by our standards. We wanted to shop at Nilgiri’s supermarket anyway.)

Tonight, after I’m done with this post, I need to fire up the printer we got the other day.  I need a copy of our cargo airway freight bill to give to the guy here who is facilitating the shipment, and also to print a copy of a wire transfer authorization form, just in case we can’t get the cash we’d been hoping to withdraw so as to pay our university program tuition at the ashram.

Fun-fun-fun.  But at least we’re making progress.  Plus Umar, one of the brothers who owns Matrix, wants to take us to lunch tomorrow.  We’ll see if we actually have time for it.

cheers!
Becca

Some of you might be wondering if, given I’m having reguar access to the site just now, whether I’ll turn the commenting feature back on.  Well, the answer is "Sorry, not just yet".

What’s available here at a major hotel in B’lore isn’t going to be what I have at the ashram, and once there this Saturday, it’s still going to take some days or possibly longer before I can set up anything resembling regular and consistently available Internet access.

When that day comes, I’ll switch the comments back on again.  Thanks everyone for your patience.

Today:  More shopping.  Whee!

Today in India was a mixed bag of successes, roadblocks, and a few leelas.

One such roadblock was in talking finally with one of the ashram managers, it sounds like our apartment on the grounds there isn’t yet ready for us to move in.  No idea really what that means, whether we’re talking days or weeks, or what state the place is actually in.

Another roadblock came in the form of problems with our financial management account — for our credit/ATM cards associated with it seem not to be working at all here.  Even though they did work just fine last February.  A call to our brokerage agent is on the to-do list for this evening, when it’ll be early morning back in the States.  (I almost said "back home"…but we don’t live there anymore.  What a concept.)

We did, however, have very good luck with our driver, obtained through Srinevas, the travel/tour guy associated with the Ballal.  And our shopping on Commercial Street were quite fruitful.  At ‘Fazal and Sons’, we ordered a bunch of custom-made Punjabi clothes — five outfits for me and four for Stephanie — and also bought a few shawls and two saris each.  I know darned well that my friend Alx would rather we trekked on over to Sari Palace, near to the airport, but we’ve a feeling that we just don’t have the time for such a side trip.  So we decided just to get everything in the one spot.

After that, we wandered a little further down the road and found a shop where we could buy table fans, a steam iron, and a hair dryer.  Then it was time to collect our driver and make a quick pit-stop back at the Ballal Residency to drop off our swag.  Good timing, too, because our purchases from Computer Planet had arrived and needed to be delivered to our room.  This comprised six reams of paper, an HP inkjet all-in-one scanner/copier/printer/fax (and extra ink cartridges), and a UPS unit.

Then came the real fun:  The Russell Market area.  This is roughly northwest of Commercial Street…and it is a warren of streets, alleys, and shops, all jumbled together.  People everywhere, vehicles everywhere, and not a street sign anywhere.  Very intimidating to the uninitiated, and even though we’ve to B’lore a few times, it was pretty daunting even to us.

We wandered a bit until Stephanie could get her bearings, and with one stop for directions we actually did find our way to Matrix, a furniture shop specializing in Malaysian-made furniture.  There, aided by the very friendly Umar, we bought two desks, a plain table-top (for me to use with the trestle table legs I’m having shipped from the States), a pair of chairs, and a custom-designed locking cabinet.  To help fill out a truck shipment, Umar’s going to help us locate and buy a refrigerator, and we’ll also get a bed and some end tables at his shop.

Next, after finding our driver, we rode through near grid-locked traffic over to the Cash Pharmacy.  They couldn’t fill my complete order today, but knowing roughly the total, I realized that for about $150, I can get a six month supply of a couple things I take regularly — which would run me more than twice as much back in the States ($185 for a 90 day supply)..

By then, it was late afternoon and we were both pretty tired.  So instead of keeping our driver to 6pm, we let him go about 4:20.  Haven’t decided yet on what to do about dinner, if anything.  We’re both pretty tired as yet and continuing to feel a degree of ongoing jet-lag.

Personal feelings…  At times I feel completely at home here in India, and other times I feel totally like the proverbial fish out of water.  I look around at all the Indian women and know that with my brown-red hair, fair skin and — for India — taller than average stature — and know that I am very much in the minority here.  Even my clothing stands out somewhat…although at least here in B’lore, quite a few women do wear western clothes.  Just not a majority, by any measure.

The Indian men, well, mostly they ignore me, unless we enter into a business transaction — at which point they become far more animated and friendly.  I get the feeling that men and women don’t mix all that much, as friends, over here.  If you manage to develop a personal friendship, that’s another matter of course, but even then there are pretty noticeable behavioral limitations.  For hand-shaking, for instance, I usually have to initiate it.

One observation that Stephanie made earlier is that this is an exceedingly POLITE society.  People smile at each other all the time, make way, and deal with jostling and crowding of a degree that would cause most Americans to snap in annoyance.  Public displays of anger are rare.  Irritation, sometimes, but shouting rage?  I can hardly imagine it.  Folks here simply get along with one another.  Maybe the larger groups have their difficulties, but on an individual level everybody is just plain nice — and they try to help.

For instance, at Matrix, the owner didn’t have to try to help us get our furniture transported out to the ashram.  More importantly, he certainly did not have to offer assistance in acquiring other items, such as a refrigerator — but he did.  He even wanted to buy us lunch, offered us refreshments.  I simply can’t imagine such a thing happening in the U.S.  You buy something in a shop and they don’t usually deliver — well, that’s your problem.  Here, it’s a whole different story.

Probably another of the reasons why I’m here.

Until next time!
Becca

Ola amigos y amigas!

No wait, wrong language, wrong country.  Here in India there are so many languages and so many ways of saying ‘hello’, it’s true that the main benefit the British left India was a common language — one which doesn’t put any particular group or region above any of the others.

Yesterday’s shopping excursion ended up being a fairly low-key one, owing to the fact that both Stephanie and I were still badly jet-lagged and exhausted.  I kept apologizing to the shop merchants for asking them to repeat themselves and for being so very confusable myself.  We stuck mainly to the Brigade Road / Church Street / MG Road loop, which is right here near the Ballal Hotel, and really didn’t go to very many stores.  Visited PC Planet to get a UPS, an all-in-one HP color inkjet printer/copier (to augment the laser printer in transit), and six reams of paper.  We also visited some other stores, mainly to look around, but also picked up some snacks and drinks at Nilgiri’s supermarket, and a really good B’lore street map at a bookstore on Church.

Today, we’re heading out in about half an hour with a hired car, to do some more serious shopping on Commercial Street — which technically is within walking distance or even just a short auto-rickshaw ride away — but we want a secure vehicle available so we can make multiple drop-offs of whatever we buy.  A lot of it isn’t big, but it’ll add up quickly.  For the really big items, we’ll have to see if we can manage as Alx directed us, and get one large shipment all trucked out at once.  That is, say to buy the bed and living room furniture at one place, then have the other merchants work with the furniture dealer to send it all out on one truck.

I have to admit, this is the one really tricky part to the whole affair and I’m not totally clear on how one does this.  But what the hey, I can ask.

Thinking about what to say… It is a little strange already to find this city familiar and welcoming, after only one prior visit (well, two, if you count the exiting transit).  The most indicative moment for me though came with breakfast this morning.  Again, we ordered room service, just because we found it more convenient — and got onion utepa (which is called ‘utepam’ at the ashram) and masala dosal (called ‘dosa’ up north).  Talk about tastes and flavors speaking to the hindbrain!  Just a meal — and yet it was what really said to some deep, subconscious part of me, "Yes, you are really here again."

About coffee though?  They have very strange ideas…  More on that in a future post.

Greetings friends and Imaginary Readers!

Only it is I who have become mostly imaginary…at least since the bulk of my site traffic is from the US and Europe.  I am here, safe and sound in Bangalore, India.  Our house is all emptied and we’ve signed all our sale paperwork; we’re waiting now only for the final closing.  All our belongings, save those either already here in India or on their way via cargo, are in storage.

The flight on British Airways was much as the previous one, although more crowded.  I had ’sprawlers’ beside me on both 10.5 hour legs of the trip, whereas Stephanie always got someone in front of her who liked to lean alllllll the way back in his seat.  Joy.  The food was decent though and the time went quickly.

We thought we’d get in a bunch of shopping this morning already…but frankly, we both crashed pretty heavily on arrival and are only just now, at 2pm, getting going.  We’ve decided to take it somewhat easy today and just do some local stuff.

Weather here is overcast and rainy a lot of the time, so umbrellas are already on the list.  Needless to say, acquiring wireless access has already happened.  Yay!

Becca

Disconnecting the cable-modem now.  See y’all next time I’m in reach of the Internet, which may be next week (if I decide to hit one of the Internet places in B’lore) or longer if I wait until the ashram in Penukonda.

To reach me, admin(at)rebeccamorn.com (or my personal email, if you have it) is the best route for the nonce.  Look here for when I’m online again and for periodic updates as to my adventures in India and worldwide!

Namaste!
-Becca

One last poem before I go.  (See the next post down for a more prose-y farewell.)

Puja Offerings

Three coconuts I break
kneeling before the puja fire

The first cracks easily
but has no water
The white flesh inside
is sour, slimy, and mushy:

This is my past life
my existence up until now

I throw it into the fire
watch as thick smoke
billows up and away

The second coconut is harder
and splashes wet all over
creating a mess
but its interior is hale
white and firm

This is the time of transition
the chaos of before
becoming after

I throw the pieces into the fire
and a breeze shoves fumes
into my face, making my eyes
run with tears

The third coconut resists breaking
and I must beat it upon the rock
until shock tingles up my arm
Eventually I batter into it
spilling clear fluids into the puja flames

I paint this one with four dots
khumkhum
on each half of the broken shell
feeling the smooth fibers
under fingertips
then find another place
to rest the shells among the coals

This last offering
is my future life
and I have no idea
how it will turn out
save that the portents
are very good indeed

Hello dear friends and Imaginary Readers,

Tomorrow afternoon, the Comcast cable guy is coming by to pick up the decoder boxes and broadband modem.  After that, my access will be limited to whenever I can get online via free wireless and/or some Internet shop when I hit the ground in Bangalore, India this coming Tuesday.  After that, I have to get a dial-up account in Penukonda, which may take a while.

Thus it may be some weeks before I can post again.  As I mentioned in a previous post, in order to head off any misbehavior or comment spam, I’m going to turn off comments for this blog for now.  Later, when I’m sure I can get online at least once a week, I’ll likely turn them back on again — as well as keep you all apprised as to my adventures abroad.

In the meantime, please do check out the blogroll in the righthand column.  AlxIndia, Blue Gal, Poetic Justice, and Roryshock are all great personal blogs and among my favorites.  And if you want to write me directly, please do feel free to drop me a line at admin(at)rebeccamorn.com (replace (at) with the @ sign).  I’ll pick up email when I can and as many of you already know, I try to respond to every message.  (Well, except for the ones trying to sell me fake prescription drugs, get me to help deposed Nigerian princes recover large sums of money, and online casinos.  Those go straight into the circular bit-bucket.)

Do I ask myself from time to time, "Sell our house, move to India — is this insane or what?"  The answer continues to be, "Doubtful.  But even if it is, I still gotta do this.  And besides, life is too frackin’ short to be unhappy.  Or to pass up possible adventures."

Life shouldn’t just be about trying to have enough money or the right love affair or a good job.  Life is what you’re doing, every minute of every day.  If you’re in a job you hate — that’s your life.  If you are fighting constantly with your spouse rather than talking honestly — so is that.  If you spend all your time worrying about getting more money… well, then money is your life.

Happiness, contentment and bliss aren’t a destination.  If you keep saying, "I’ll be happy when…", you’ve already lost.  These things come along one’s path, whatever that path might be.

Mine led me to California about eight years ago, in the midst of a huge number of other life-altering changes, of which only those closest to me know the true extent.  In the last few years, I’ve been comfortable — but also feeling somewhat stagnant.  I’ve been trying to make a go of fiction writing, but that’s a hard field to break into.  Plus, it wasn’t really satisfying my deepest desires.  My desire to know the answers to the four most basic questions of existence:

• Who am I, really?
• Where did I come from?
• Where do I go, after I die?
• What am I supposed to be doing in this lifetime, what is my dharma?

And, like Vivekananda, I want to know God.  Not just believe or have faith.  I want to know and understand the true nature of Divinity.  What is it?  What’s it for?  And where did it come from?

If my mind, heart, and spirit aren’t big enough to encompass this knowledge, this understanding, then I want to grow them until they can.  Or at least to be able to hold more of it than my limited self can now.

I want Moksha.  Freedom to choose.  So that when I drop the body and move on, I’m not trapped by karma and old habit into returning, just to play out more of the same.  To have to start over yet again with no real access to what went before.  And whatever shape the ‘afterlife’ might take, I still want both the choice to decide what I will do and the wisdom to choose rightly.

Earlier in this life, during my 20s, I was walking one very ordinary and conventional path, one traveled by a good many others — or near enough to it as to be entirely recognizeable and unimpressive.  In my early 30s, I made some truly radical decisions, heading down one path that only a few have ever walked.  It was perfect for me, and I have no regrets.  Still, eventually it led me back to a rather more ordinary and well-traveled road, with me as a small business owner and freelance technical writer…and not much else.

I gave that up a couple years ago to try this fiction thing, because I knew it to be far less of a "soul prostitution" than writing computer manuals.  Still…something wasn’t right.  Missing.

Then my beloved friend and sister (in spirit) Alx came back from India, a changed woman.  Over this last year, I’ve come to realize that where she went, I must follow.  Because of her, I have witnessed and personally experienced miracles (as have others around me).  Through her and her husband Jonathan’s teachings, I have come to see there are a multitude of paths to the divine (or as my main website page says, there are an infinite number of paths, but only one mountain).  They’ve been invaluable — and now are in essence handing me and Stephanie (and two more of our close friends, Maya and Sage) to their teacher, Sri Kaleshwar Swami himself, a divine soul I’m honored to call my Guru now.  (Guru meaning "teacher" or "master"…or guide, if you will.)

I go into this, walk this path, with my eyes wide open and my mind sharp.  I know what I’m doing… and at the same time, I’m trusting to God and the Divine to an extent I’ve not done before.

And while I’m there, I’ll share as much of it with the rest of you as Providence and opportunity permits.

Take care everyone.  When next you hear from me, I’ll probably be in Penukonda at Sri Kaleshwar’s ashram.  First on tap is to get settled into our new apartment.  Then Guru Purnima (festival during the first full moon in July, each year).  And then begins Kaleshwar’s ‘Soul University’ — sure to be an amazing experience in and of itself.

Until next we meet… 

- Becca

WaPo:  Court Eases ‘No Knock’ Search Ban
The Constitution does not require the government to forfeit evidence gathered through illegal "no knock" searches, the Supreme Court ruled yesterday, in a far-reaching ruling that could encourage police with search warrants to conduct more aggressive raids.

I’ll tell you why this is really, really bad — and I’m not just talking about overzealous law enforcement.  Which is itself pretty much a foregone conclusion.

With this ruling, the SCOTUS has just created two new categories of violent tragedy, just waiting to happen.

One will be people shooting and killing unidentified intruders smashing unannounced into their homes — only to discover later that they just killed one or more police officers.  Most cases, the homeowner, innocent or not, will also likely end up shot and/or dead.

The other will be criminals who smash down doors and yell "Police!" — even though they aren’t.

America becomes a little less free with every ruling like this…  It sure isn’t the country I grew up in.  Back then, we just feared other countries.  Now, we fear our own government.