Up, up and away. Up through and over the big puffy clouds where santas reindeer play- I whimsically look for the shadows of whales in the sea below.

Sri Lanka went by fast. It’s so funny- when you spend months away on end- it starts to feel like the end will never come and then, in the blink of an eye- it’s all over and your homeward bound. Sri Lanka is undoubtedly beautiful, interesting, and a place to return to. I would have liked to spend a bit more time in the interior but the coast was aptly rewarding.

One night while we were having sunset drinks a huge mama sea turtle swam up out of the ocean and started making her way to the tree line. The server at the restaurant made an announcement requesting that we ignore the turtle so that she will lay her eggs. He said- “She is tired, she has swam a long way, she is pregnant lady- give her some space.” Turtles pilgrimage back to the very same beach they were born on- sometimes 1000’s of miles to reach their mark. This beach was just an empty piece of beautiful coastland until about 2-3 years ago. So its no surprise that this is the third turtle we have seen enter the beach in the past few days. Raja, the man advocating for the turtles said this one is about 20 years old. We were very happy to hear someone spreading smart ideas regarding peoples behavior around the turtles as the night before the coast guard was spot lighting them and letting people smoke near the newly hatched young. Turns out turtles aren’t all that Raja cares about, he is also an avid conservationist for whales and dolphins and runs one of the best whale watching tours in Mirissa- taking care not to scare or chase the whales so that the blue whales will continue their year-round patterns around Sri Lanka.

There are also HUGE lizards here in large numbers. Some were black and yellow and 2 meter/ 6ft long! Monitor lizards, iguanas, chameleons, and several other species I did not recognize were all over the country side along with the peacocks, kingfishers, eagles, crows and ginourmous bats flying across the full moon. Justin and I even went to a snake farm! It’s a snake conservation center and snake bite treatment center. We watched in awe as the man tamed the cobra that was striking and hissing at him only minutes before. We got to hold multiple snakes and see some scorpions and tarantulas.

Despite sone of the wildlife being poisonous- Coconuts and traffic were the biggest dangers- unannounced a coconut would plunge from tree to roof several times over. We were fortunate to not be hit by any- however it’s definitely a risk. I suppose rip tides and waves breaking really close to shore are also some things to look out for.

The one thing I wish for Sri Lanka is to not become too overdeveloped. They have an extraordinary landscape and are in the face of a budding tourist economy but you already see large parts of jungle being torn away to build more guesthouses. I hope they can take a nod from Costa Rica- and preserve their Eco-tourism, put limits on land development, and extend the longevity of their natural beauty. I also encourage travelers to always carry their own water bottle and a filter. Sri Lanka drinks their water from the tap and only began “manufacturing” water due to the demand by tourists. Knowing what we know about plastic and it’s ever growing presence in the world I believe it’s every traveller’s responsibility to leave a place better than they found it. So try not to use plastic and leave no trace. The plastic bottles are only being brought in for us. I am hoping to draft up these thoughts and send them to the department of tourism of Sri Lanka to encourage them to preserve Sri Lanka’s natural beauty as that is the big draw for tourism moving forward.

2/25/12

I leave India in five days and already I am beginning to miss it. Like a lover lost I start romanticizing the way the red dirt sinks into my skin, the sharp smell of mothballs, the horn richochetteing off the inside of the bus, the money-takers whistle that let’s the driver know everyones aboard, the shrines and offerings in every nook and corner, the cows and their straight forward looks as they take whichever path they please. In the heat of the day I wrap my saree over my head to block the sun and the smell of fresh jasmine swirls around my face from the individually tied blossoms hanging in my braid. Ill miss the five people doing each part of one job step-by-step where anywhere else it would be the work of one. The man hand stitching my parcels at the post office, the tailors and the silly look they give me as they whirlwind wrap sarees in the blink of an eye around themselves with a cheeky smile, the “which country?” question that is screamed from buses, whispered from rickshaws, and yelled from fields. The pride of each town and state that every Indian person beams with. It’s incredible and humble and glorious all at once.

We spent the day in Coimbatore, a busy Indian city in Tamil Nadu, and had quite the adventure. This is not a tourist town and I almost caused several accidents just from the shock people experienced over seeing someone white. I wore my saree and everyone said it was “Super!!” with big thumbs up. We took the bus today just because it was hot and we were tired of walking. The bus driver was insistent on my telling him where I planned to get off rather than just taking my money. When I confessed I had no destination at all the woman around me burst into giggles. The busman smiled and surprisingly gave me some change. There was a woman weaving flower blossom garlands together and when I went to purchase some the girls standing next to me bought them for me as a gift. It was so sweet. When I didn’t have a hairpin another woman on the bus gave me hers and the two red roses that she had also been wearing. I was so humbled and thankful by how beautiful this culture is. Eventually we exited the bus got some chai and then took the bus back in the opposite direction. We stopped in bookstores and found a rockin market. People were thrilled to see us coming through the stalls and showered us with free samples, free chai, tilka (the red dust/paste for your third eye), and compliments. Everyone shouted “hello!” in their best american accent as we went by. We were a big hit in the market place and caused quite a jubilant scene. It was good fun. Some homemade chocolate made for a good daycap and now its time to take a night train Chennai.

2/19/12

After a 28 hour voyage I arrived at ISHA (www.ishafoundation.org). A night train, a 6 hour layover, a day train and a bus across India up into the Vienijeri foothills (the total in cost came to approximately $9) completed my journey.

It was a busy day, the day before Mahashivaratri, and many people were arriving here to attend a concert with world famous musician Siraj. He played a traditional Indian instrument (durge? Ill look it up and add it for you dedicated readers later) and is the 21st generation of his family in the lineage of this craft. There were thousands of hand-lit candles burning behind him and it was a beautiful night.

The Isha Ashram grounds are spectacular. Well maintained, well placed, open, airy, spiritual, charged- it is the first ashram I have been to that feels how I imagined an ashram would feel. Granted I’ve only been to two ;). Truly, it is probably one of the most presently active spiritual spaces I have attended. I have been to lots of temples, cathedrals, churches, covens, etc- but really none of them were like this or were fully functional and participatory on this scale of devotion to the message the living guru, Sadhguru, is sending out. The ashram is open to all religions and ways of life and puts forth a message of living to your fullest potential. You can go to their website to learn more
( www.ishafoundation.org ). It is a slightly strict environment – general rules include that you are to be covered down to your ankles and shirts must cover the shoulders, men and women are separated, even husband and wife are asked to refrain from hand holding and hugging out of respect for the brahmancherries (monks) that live here. No smoking. No drinking. Meals to be taken in silence. No photographs etc. Even with these limitations in place I still found it to be a pleasant and moving place. It really was not too much to ask considering what was being offered.

Each building, offering, statue and space is consecrated and carried out with noted intention. Sounds of people doing their personal practice are everywhere. Bird calls, dog barks, and breath sounds ( all utilized within the different meditations ) fill the dorm and most other shared spaces. And the level of devotion literally seeps from each and every opening. I enjoyed partaking in their daily activities bathing in the theetikum- this vast water-filled hall emerges as you slowly descend a staircase fit for the Roman Empire. A bathing pool with a solid piece of charged mercury bound in copper, wrapped in a snake holds space in the middle and a waterfall plunges down the far wall. An epic mural creates a universe above you and slats of sunshine pour down at the right time of day. Experiencing the sound initiation for the incredibly charged (and emotionally, visually, acoustically, architecturally pleasing ) space the Dhyanalinga was another of my favorite activities. A 25 minute sound meditation open to all twice a day.

As far as India goes in general. I relish the moment each day when the sun drops behind the mountain and a cool wave of breeze sweeps the land. I love sunset and watching the bats start to flitter about. I never tire of the impeccable knack the sky has for changing full color spectrums within a moments notice. I love the smell of fresh jasmine blossoms in my hair, arranged in offerings on the ground, and tucked into the folds of my saree. I actually really get a kick out of the times when India reminds me of Burning Man and thankful I have learned how to deal with the dust, art cars, and psychedelic buses- the concept of radical self-reliance also comes in handy.

I adore how everytime I think I wrapped my saree right out of the 50+ times I have wrapped it- I am constantly stopped by Indian woman who smile, click their tongue and bobble their head at me and then kindly start unwrapping my ongoing learning process and re-tuck each and every fold of this 6 meter fabric. Wrapping a saree is truly a sadhana of it’s own – everytime I do it I learn something new, everytime I think I have it down I learn that this is only the beginning. Throughout life, throughout travel, throughout dance, I am constantly reminded that I truly need to just be where I am at and that I earn nothing from skipping ahead and no matter how badly I want to be at this other level, other place, next level up- that I am only prolonging the process of getting there by not being in the space where I am at in this very moment in time. It’s a lesson I am faced with over and over again- and I am thankful for it. . . Even though at times it is not what I want to believe and it can be harsh to accept- it is the only truth. And when I give in and let these true masters of saree wrapping teach me a thing or five I know I am better off for it. So intricate, such a devotion. Each and every act here is an act of devotion. The dance, the food, the sarees, how you place your shoes, the way you sweep the grass, how you greet each moment- India is such a devotional place that you really can’t ignore it.

Thank you Mama India I appreciate your lessons.

2/18/12 “Quick! quick!” the driver says to me and hurls my
bag into the bus I run along side and grab hold of the door as I
jump aboard. My perfect Indian exit to this tranquil sector of my
trip. The buses and cars weave through trees, mountains, unmarked
streets, and surprisingly arrive at your destination. India is just
like that- there are times where I think, “oh man, I’ve been had”
this is not possibly the way to where I am going and low and
behold- it is. Trust. India is a lot about trust and a lot about
haggling. If you know the true fair price then everyone is an
honest man and that is what you will pay. If you trust that you can
get from one place to another- then surely you will arrive. Street
signs are practically non existent, landmarks repeat themselves or
disappear completely. Dirt roads, foot prints, stars, the sun. . .
Trust. . . they will get you by. Indian people are also quite
helpful. It is common for even the taxi drivers to ask anyone on
the street “Galgibaga?” or wherever you are going and the locals
will give you precise hand gestures for your next few moves. If a
place (bus, restaurant,etc) is crowded the ladies always make space
for me and one another. The women here are gentle and kind. Often
if sitting alone I am quickly joined by mothers and children. My
dance program was AMAZING. I took extensive classes in Odissi dance
for the past 14 days straight 5-7 hours a day with Chantelle of
Daksinadance.tumblr.com My teacher is a beautiful dancer as well as
a great teacher and created a wonderful curriculum for me while I
was here. Exercises, form, music and rhythmn theory, mudras, and
choreography were taught and practiced and polished as possible for
our short amount of time. I learned so much from this experience
about myself, discipline, and dancing for the divine. It was great
that it was in unison with a tantric yoga teacher training as well.
In my down time I got to participate in excellent yoga classes. A
much needed release for my hours of dancing, pujas, meditations and
it includes lectures on the history of all yoga throughout the
world. Each day as I sweat and pounded the floor with my feet in
the sculpturesque form odissi is based on I felt myself move deeper
and deeper into The dance. Even on days when I was tired, by a 1/4
way into my exercises I was reinvigorated with life and light and
power. Each day you pray to the Lord Jagganath and thank the earth
for letting you stomp upon her- before and after the dance. So, it
was really moving for me to put this kind of devotion into
something. To genuinely put forth the devotion and then complete
each and every step as it is intended to be portrayed, as an
offering for lord jagganth, subhadra, and Bramhamiem. I have
arrived to Margao with a few hours to spare to pick up yet another
saree ( which is so beautiful but adding another 6 meters of fabric
to my luggage is not so ideal) before catching my train. I have
quickly become family at this house of intricate threads and beads.
I have come back several times and the ladies get so excited I am
here and instantaneously begin dressing me up in all if their
delights. They do my hair and hold my hand and bust in on me in the
dressing room to intricately fold my saree into the “new style.”
and they are just so darned sweet and cute. They bring me tea, they
let me leave my bags, they make sure everything I buy is tailored
just right- this is by far my favorite saree shop I have
encountered in all of India. And trust me- I have been to A LOT of
saree shops in my short time here. There is no website but if you
are interested in coming here please send me an email and I will
give you explicit directions. I’m excited to catch my train and
cuddle up in my sleeper car and be sung to sleep by the sweet call
of the chai guy announcing his goods through the train. I look
forward to the next steps of this amazing adventure as I make my
way to Mahasivaratri.

Arambol was an adventure. Lots of hot girls riding kickass
motor cycles. Lots of folks stopping with nice bikes to give free
rides, yummy food, gypsy gear, drum circles, lovely conversation,
cow fields, sweet Indian families, hot sun, full beach, and
motorcycle taxi rides to anjuna. I ended up in Anjuna twice. Once
for the night market which was an incredible experience. I was
expecting a lil building with some booths- but this market truly
was like nothing I had ever seen. It was a full on outdoor bizarre
with 12-15 piece bands playing non stop, bars, food, Indian goods,
local designers, and European craftsman all selling their wares.
What a beautiful and magickal place. Wow. The second time I arrived
in anjuna was for a proper beach party that I got to perform with a
fire crew at. I ran into friends from Thailand and Montreal. It was
the Goa I had heard about for all these years. I’m glad I was able
to pilgrimage and shop but was also happy to return to my lil
seaside sleepy farm town of Galgibaga. I’ve been in such a
dedicated and serene place and it has been so good for me. I can’t
even believe I head out tomorrow for Tamil Nadu. Xo

Houses made of earthen bricks fences made of sticks and
palm. Roads beaten into the clay. Scaffolding made of bamboo
decorations made from flowers boats made of trees. Resourcefulness
is everywhere and technology comes from Mother Earth. Pretty
incredible what one can do when there are no other options sitting
in front of you on a silver platter. In some ways technology holds
us back. Supermarkets wash away farming skills, and money takes
away the barter system. Inflation takes away fair trade and
suddenly we are all working 60 hour weeks with only 2 weeks of
vacation a year. It’s all cyclical as east looks to west and west
looks to east. Full circle, as it turns out Christopher Columbus
was correct about ONE thing- the world is round not flat. There’s s
bunch of westerners doing yoga and a ton of Indians really digging
aerobics. Take one down pass it around 99 bottles of limca on the
ground ( being collected rapidly for the deposit). P.s. If you
haven’t noticed Coca Cola has taken over the world.

We arrived to arambol late in the evening after a long day of errands. We took a rickshaw, two buses, and then a taxi for the last two hours. It kind of cracks me up how lanes and direction of traffic are kind of just a suggestion here.

We were meeting my friends’ friends at a small gathering on the beach. As we climbed the sand dunes in the dark I could hear the beat creeping in. As we got closer I saw the glow of lots of dready cutie pies all cuddled up on the beach accompanied by slow dark snarling bass. We have arrived.

I’m somewhere new but I feel instantly at home. Brightly colored Portuguese style houses everywhere. Shrines glowing in the middle of the night. People group hugging and om’ing in the street. It’s Friday night but it’s quiet except for the gentle lull of warm and fuzzy conversations floating off of porches and out of door ways.

I stopped to buy some water at this welcoming lil tea house. The shop keeper invited me in and mentioned he had many things to offer. I continued on after my purchase though, exploring the winding dirt roads lolly-gagging around housing complexes and temples.

Our sleeping situation was fairly uncertain on the way into town. My friend was trying to find a house where we could both stay and so far- nothing had surfaced. I knew i could always rent a room if it came down to it and there where people actually sleeping on porches all over the place lolol. A friend was to let us crash but ended up staying out late in another town a bit farther away so we could not get in. The group from the beach had moved into a restaurant and we were contemplating our options over tea when someone brought up the fact that their friend who didnt show- the house they stayed at was missing the lil moon shaped window from above the front door. They said perhaps a small child could fit through half- jokingly. We came by to peruse the situation. There was indeed no glass in the window and to our luck – both the Portuguese and the Indians are both a pretty small breed of people – so the door was not so tall. There was even a step stool conveniently on the porch. I felt i was the nimbler of the two of us and surprising slid right through on the first try. I wasn’t quite sure that my body would actually be able to fit in the opening along with my leg as I swung around the other side- but it all worked out quite easily. (Just as it should)

Soooo. . . I totally just broke into a house (with permission of course) and was surrounded by beautiful epic gauzy fabrics, flowy skirts, long vests, and pretty much anything you ever wanted to buy was gracefully holding space all around me. I go to open the backdoor and let in my friend when I find my leafy seadragon dress ( my favorite dress of all time that I got in san Francisco) laying on the table and the om body pants that i am wearing right now hanging on the rack in front of me. Turns out the owner of the house is an epic fashion designer and that all of my favorite fabrics in the whole wide world are all around me and made in Dehli and have been brought to this house that I am standing in now. What are the chances?

It reminded me of when I first moved to NYC and was looking for housing and my friend was dog sitting Madonna’s hair dressers dogs in their villa-esque condo in the west village and I got to do all if my craigslist searching from there!

I love this life!!

And the adventure continues!

Xo