Monthly Archives: May 2014

Indonesia

Sambutan Kanggo Kuta, Bali

My trip from India to Indonesia did not go without its setbacks. I developed a habit of not printing out my flight tickets. I only write down the flight number and Ho(s)tel address on a piece of paper. This worked for me pretty well, so far. I booked two separate flights. One from Kochi to Kuala Lumpur and the other one from Kuala Lumpur to Bali. However when I arrived at Kuala Lumpur, at the immigration desk they asked me some of the usual questions to see if I was not going to do any funny stuff in their country. “Are you here for business or holiday sir?” “Holiday” “How many days are you going to stay” “Eh, this is a transit, I have a next flight in a few hours” “Can I see the ticket for your next flight?” “Euh, I have this piece of paper with the flight number, but I still have to print it out…” and boom, I was crowned a suspicious person, within these couple of seconds. Hahaha. They were somewhat sceptic about my story. I had to go to a small office to get a stamp. There I explained my story and they sent me to another desk. After being sent from pillar to post for almost an hour I finally got the girls at one of the desks to print my ticket. Pfffieeuw! I was off, but I will be back though.

Like I told before every country has it’s energy and when I arrived in Bali, Indonesia it felt like a sweet welcome embrace. The sun was shining fiercely and the mixed smell of incense, burning compost and delicious food caressed my nostrils. I loved the smell! The streets were decorated with penjors, tall, curved bamboo poles decorated with coconut leaves with an offering at the base. This was because of the Galungan celebrations which are held every six months. The penjors symbolize the battle between good and evil, which is won by good of course. Also every day people put offerings, called Canang Sari’s in front of their doors. Nicely small tray made out of young coconut leaves and decorated with colorful orange and pink flowers. There were many stores with a lot of Absolut Vodka bottles displayed, but later I found out that actually these bottles contained petroleum for your scooter. I was already thinking why this vodka had a brownish color Hahaha.

The taxi took me to Kuta. The overly touristic party district of Bali. Sun, sea, beaches and banging dance music pumping out of the speakers. I would spend my weekend here and then head over to the more authentic and culture rich Ubud to see the “Real” Bali.

The first thing I did when I arrived at the hotel is go for the local food! I ended up in this back alley market and ordered a Bakmie Goreng (Balinese Stir Fired Noodles). The waitress asked me if I wanted it not so spicey, a bit spicy or spicy. I said: “A lot of spicy, I like spicy!!” You can play this joke in the Netherlands, but saying that here in Bali is like signing your death certificate. She smiled and after a few minutes brought me my order. I took the first bite and immediately I chocked, my lips burned, my throat was full of fire, tears coming out of my eyes and sweat dripping down my head. Clearly aware of my struggle the waitress asked from the behind counter: “Too spicy sir?” I refused to give in, so I answered with all the little bit of voice I had still left in me: “No, I like it like this! Spicy..” I took the challenge and ate the whole plate. Hahaha.

I noticed that the portions they serve here are relatively small, sometimes leaving you still a bit hungry after dinner. Also the food is not steaming hot when served, but rather lukewarm. And I really had to get used to eating with a spoon and fork, instead of a knife and fork. However with rice on the menu it was pretty practical.  You also really stand out here. There are hardly any other black people on Bali.

Legion street was where it all happened. This was the main street of Kuta. It also houses all the clubs. Sky Garden, with it’s three story building being one of the most famous. As an extension of Kuta you have the Seminyak area. A neighbourhood with also a lot going on. At one time I was in one of the clubs at Legion street and saw a little man in the corner with a whole entourage of people, looking and acting like Mr. Chow from the Hangover movie. He was jumping on the couches, slapping people on the buttocks and just going berzerk. I got in a conversation with him and found out he was the owner of the place. Shortly after that he pushed the mic in my hand to mc. I hosted the party for a few minutes hyping the crowd. It was fun!! Hahaha

Kuta was fun, but it has nothing to do with Bali. So I went for Ubud. On my last day in Kuta I decided to go for some crab, which I haven’t eaten for years, but when I walked out of the hotel alley on to the main street two people on a scooter crashed in to a row of scooters just two meters left from me. I was like really!!?? Luckily no one got hurt, but it looked like an action flick. I only had to dive to make the scene more powerful Hahaha The crab was ok, even though it had barely any meat on it. It had some nostalgic feel about it. Hahaha

India

Life After the Silent

Before my silent I met a lot of beautiful people with warm energy. On of them was a retired Indian couple who were staying there for a year. The woman put her thumbs up each time we met at the afternoon yoga class, by means of asking if I was still hanging on. After my silent, we finally got to talk again. We were sitting at the table eating dinner. The man has a habit of not talking during dinner. She told me that. But when his wife left the table to wash her plate he suddenly bowed towards me and said: “You are a happy and content man. Stay that way. Don’t let anyone steal your happiness” And then he sat back again, focusing on his dinner like nothing happened. Wow!

During my silent new people checked in at the Ashram. Some wanted to start a conversation with me, but I had to make a hand gesture of zipping my lips together to show them I was in silent. So after my silent I had a lot of long conversations with a lot of people. Guess I had to catch up with not talking for days ;-) Through my final talk with the Swami. I found out I was the first newbee person to do a first silent retreat of seven days at this Ashram. I gave myself a pad on the back for that!! ;-) Hahaha.

The Ashram also had a science lab attached to it. After the silent retreat they measured my brainwaves during meditation which was real fun to see.

I was full of energy and did a lot of things. I went to Vashishta Guhe. A cave alongside the Ganges, which is famous for being a place for great meditation. So guess what I did there? Haha. I also went to the Ashram library to see 300 year old manuscripts written on palm leaves. Some even go back 600 years. I also went to a Ganga Aarti. Every evening, people gather at Parmarth Niketan Ashram (in the Swag Ashram area) to experience the Ganga Aarti, worship of fire. The driver dropped me off and I had to walk over a bridge and through crowds, streets and alleys to find the Aarti. There it was… hundreds of people singing along side a fire at the side of the Ganges, while the sun was setting. A moment to never forget. I even washed my hands in the Ganges. At the end, hundreds of lights are set on the water to drift downstream which is a marvelous sight!

I was lucky to find my way back to the driver. On our way back to the Ashram between the Indian songs, which were probably his private music collection, I suddenly heard: “Hold up, wait a minute let me get some *&#(@@ up in it!” It was a famous Hip Hop track by Dr. Dre called Kush. This driver surprised me! Hahaha. I reacted with excitement! But he reacted a bit ashamed. He quickly switched the song to your typical Hindi music, like I found out about his secret identity haha. This was probably his playlist he played when he was all by himself. ;-) Hahaha.

My days at the Ashram came to an end. I left by taxi, which would pick me up at the Ashram at 4 am midnight. I took my backpack and moved to the reception, which was still closed. There was raining and there was a heavy storm going on. I saw some headlights on the hill in the distance. My taxi! We started driving. The streets where still completely empty. A stark contrast to cacophony of claxons and masses at day time. In the taxi I quickly did my mental routine, to make sure I had everything. These thoughts were running through my head, while at the same time I was having the usual conversation with the driver: Do I have my passport, train ticket with me?… “I’m from the Netherlands”… Do I know the address of my next sleeping place?… “Yeah it’s really a beautiful city”…. do I have my iPad and MacBook with me?… “Yeah Ruud Gullit and Van Basten haha”… My creditcard, bankcards?… “Amsterdam, is nice yeah!”…. Check! I have everything!

Before the driver dropped me off at the train station I would go and visit Har Ki Pauri, a famous ghat on the banks of the Ganges in Haridwar. The storm was still going on heavily. We drove in to a police roadblock. After a fierce argument between my driver and the police we turned around and the driver was cursing in himself. I asked him what was wrong. The police wanted people to pay large sums of money, to pass the roadblock. Like hmmm, that’s also India. We took the long road however. The driver waited for me, while I tried to find my way through the storm, which had turned in to a sand storm at this point. I almost couldn’t see straight, passing the bridge all the way to Har Ki Pauri. The sun was slowly rising and the light of day was making its entrance. I got a “washing of luck” by a guy in white clothing pouring Ganga water over my head. I had a long hourly trip ahead, all the way to Kochi, with this water on my body in which people do there needs and dead bodies are burned. Eeiiieuw!! But they say it’s sacred, so I will be fine… I guess. Haha

The driver dropped me off at the train station in Haridwar. I took the train back to New Delhi, with the dried up Ganga water still on my head, and from there on, I would take a plane to Kochi in the South. The train was an experience! The beautiful landscapes that pass you by reaaaalllyyy sloooowwwlllyyy!! Nice! I wanted to go to the south of India because it is said that the south is completely different from the north. It has even been said that it is nicer and more sophisticated. Hmmm. I was curious!

I arrived in Kochi and…. Wow! Like I was in another country. Clean, asphalted streets, billboards, palm trees, no crowdyness and men in sarongs. I almost thought I was already in Indonesia. And to be honest… the people here are way more nicer than the North (apart from Rishikesh of course ;-))! People just approach you for a talk and kids in the streets give you high five. I stayed in a homestay of a friendly family. I was directly invited to the table of another family who were staying there as guests. We had a fun chat about the upcoming World Cup, Surinam and Indian food. It was good fun. After that I went to bed early, because of all the travelling I had only slept 6 hours total in a period of two days.

The next day, after I slept for more than 16 hours straight, I went to see the famous Chinese fisher nets along the coast. I even helped with pulling one up. You need like six people to pull one up. They sell the fish alongside the boulevard. They even sold shark they had just catched, like wow! And then… then suddenly…. it was time to leave India….   Incredible India!

India

The Silent Retreat

I took the train from New Delhi to Rishikesh at 5 o’clock in the morning. Rishikesh is situated along the holy river Ganges, about 200 kilometers northeast of Delhi sitting at an elevation of 330 meters, it is considered the doorway to the Himalayas. The Rishikesh area is considered to be sacred as it is believed that meditation at this place leads to the attainment of salvation. There are many temples, some ancient, some new in the Rishikesh area. And for the record Rishikesh is also the place where the Beatles wrote their “White Album”.

I was going to stay in an Ashram to do a 7 day silent retreat, meaning no talking for 7 days. A guy from the Ashram picked me up at the station. When I got off the train I saw someone standing with my name on a plate. You see this on many train stations and airports. It’s quite normal, but to suddenly see your name on a plate between dozens of unknown Indians after an exhausting train ride is still somewhat awkward. Haha. We drove on a bridge across the Ganges river, which Indians call the Ganga, and arrived at this beautiful Ashram. The Ashram looked like the way people depict paradise in images. It had a collection of cottages, surrounded by a perfectly maintained pittoresque garden with a view on the mountains. Wow! I stayed in cottage number 10, in the midst of the premises. The cottage had a kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. The wall was made out of red stones, which gave it a monastery feel. I thought I had the cottage to myself, but I was not alone. I was kept company by ants, crickets and other small unrecognizable creatures on the floor. The walls where full of jumping spiders and I even had a permanent roommate underneath the sink closet, the gecko! He sometimes appeared quickly from under the sink closet to sunbath for a few minutes next to the window.

The Ashram was established by a famous Swami. And what makes this Ashram stand out, is that they mix spirituality with science. Coincidental the Ashram also had a link with Surinam. The swami had lived there for years. And the Indian people in Surinam brought the Himalaya yoga, as it is called, to the Netherlands. Funny! So when they heard that my roots where in Surinam everyone got excited.

I was welcomed by the head of education. Before I could do the silent I had to follow a three day course about yoga, meditation, diaphragmatic breathing and more. He asked me my name. “Frans”, I said. He didn’t understand how to pronounce it. I told him “It’s easy, just like the country, France.” “Ooooh, now I understand. France!!”, he said. He explained me about the Ashram. I had to follow a strict daily program which consisted of morning prayer at 5 o’ clock, Joints & Glands Exercises from 5:15 to 7:00, Breathing practices from 7:00 to 7:30, Meditation from 7:30 to 8:30, Breakfast from 8:40 to 9:30 etc. etc. the program ended at 9 o’ clock in the evening. Like.. wow!! He recommended a good book to read before my silent. As if I had enough spare time with this program Haha. I could borrow the book from his library. He would write my name down, so he would remember who had the book. And then I seriously saw him writing down my name as “Spain”. Lol!! Hahaha I told him it was the other country Hahaha.

The next day we started with the morning prayers and after that we did the Joints & Glands exercises workout. The teacher spontaneously improvised by starting with a fast paced walk through the area. We followed and all giggled because it must have looked really silly, but on the other hand walking like that through this magnificent place full of lovely nature, singing birds and a view on the mountains while the sun is slowly rising also feels special. I loved the hatha yoga classes in the afternoon. During the hatha yoga classes I also found out how stiff I was hahaha. I just couldn’t get the lotus position right. During the evening meditation we sat in that pose for one hour. I needed two extra rolled up blankets for support hahaha.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner were consumed at fixed hours in the dining hall. The food was completely vegetarian. Not even chicken or fish. Ah well.. you get used to it. One day we heard someone running over the plastic, corrugated roof of the dining halls’ outbuilding, which made a real loud noise. Everyone stopped eating and stared. Who was that!!!? We found out it was a large Macaque. Wow! The culture shock keeps continuing ;-) Hahaha.

I met with the swami who would be my mentor during the silent. He told me that as a newbee I could do a maximum of three days silent. I was shocked! I told him that I had planned to do a seven day silent. He laughed. “Most beginners crack in to tears after two days”, he said “but ok… let’s first start with three and then see if you can handle more.” People who know me, know that telling Frans he is not able to do something is the best way to make me really want to do that something. I said: “Ok” However… I thought: “I’m definitely doing the seven days!!!” Hahaha. We talked a bit about the silent retreat. He told me I should have as less distraction as possible. This meant keeping reading and writing to a minimum. Keeping a small log and reading for an hour a day is ok, but no more than that. And also if I really needed to communicate with him during the silent, I could do so by paper. Also I didn’t have to follow the strict program when in silent #luckyme. I saw some people in silent walking around in a white Khadi, so I asked him about the dress code during my silent. He gave me the best answer possible: “Just be your self. Come as you are” We agreed that my silent would start at 6:30 the next morning.

The day before my silent it was a full moon and it felt kind of special.

The first day went well, pretty easy even. I only had to suppress some sounds  one makes out of a habit. I followed the hatha yoga classes and attended the evening meditation and sat alone in my cottage for hours. Just me and my thoughts, knowing the next 7 days I wasn’t going to communicate with anyone. Also the prediction of a nervous breakdown on day two or three was hanging above my head, but I was determined!

The second day I was prepared for any surprise. I’ve been told a crying fit could emerge out of nothing, but when the Swami saw me that day at the dining hall, he walked up to me. “I can already see you are strong enough. Go for the seven days! I will be out of town and will be back the day you are finished” I’m not sure if he told me to go for the full length because he saw that I showed no signs of breaking down or because it came in handy for him and his agenda. Lol! Hahaha. Either way I was going for it!

Eventually the surprise came… but not in the form of a crying fit. The toilet tap in my bathroom sprung causing a little flood in the bathroom. I was like.. Really!? Now!? I kept calm and managed to shut down the main tap. After a few hours I could open the main tap again and everything was back to normal. Luckily! That night a incessantly stream of birds were flying over from the Himalaya’s. It must have been thousands of birds, because it took for ages and it was real special and calming to look at.

I was getting used to not talking. I did my daily yoga, having a tea with milk and sugar prior to it, eat three times a day, did some contemplative walking, meditation and returned to my cottage. I started paying attention to my room mates ;-). The ants were my flour cleaners. I saw them moving a piece of peanut, I accidently dropped on the floor, all the way to their shelter. Me and the gecko beneath the kitchen sink, became friends Hahaha. I stopped chasing him, instead just let ‘m get his sunshine now and then. He would go after the flying spiders on the wall for me. A cat showed up at the porch of my cottage. I gave it some food. It kept showing up almost each evening.

The cottage had a peaceful feel to it. Also at night. It is quite an experience, alone with your thoughts and no one to share them with. The thoughts keep on flowing. Long forgotten memories show up.

After a few days I was really at peace. My mind was empty. I lived in the now. It felt like a vacation in a vacation. This sounds crazy, but during this trip I have constantly been busy arranging flights, hostels, laundry, sight seeing, getting to know the next city, meet new people, exchange new currency etc. most of it really fun, but still exhausting at times. Now I just did… well… nothing. I only had to make sure to sleep, eat and drink, do the laundry and follow some classes. But it wasn’t all a bed of roses. I also felt real homesick at times and after all these days of vegetarian food I was craving for a medium tenderloin steak soooo bad!! (I told no one, because they would kill me, especially in the land of the holey cow!). But still… these were just relatively minor inconveniences.

Every night there was something going on, on the banks of the Ganges. Chanting, drums, people. I could hear it in the distance, while lying in my bed, but I could not go there because I was in silent and mostly it was for local people. One day I did however went for a long walk of a few kilometers to the befriended Ashram. It was really relaxing. Only when a guy on a scooter started talking to me it took some time for him to realize I was in silent. He first thought I had some hearing problems. Awkward situation!

The seven days went by fairly quickly. I learned a lot during the silent and I would advice everyone to do it. I only sinned one time, when I couldn’t catch any sleep and then suddenly a mosquito started to zoom in my ear. I cursed at the mosquito, whispering, but not even finishing the word. That was the only sound I had made during those seven days. No nervous breakdowns, no crying fits… guess I’m pretty balanced emotionally :-) Hahaha.

India

Back to Delhi

They say the India experience is not complete without some proper effect of the food on your stool if you know what I mean ;-). It took a while, but eventually also I was not resistant against the dark corners of Indian food. I experienced the most horrible Indian toilet that will stay permanently on my mind. It was a toilet on the road back to New Delhi. I asked the driver to stop, because I really needed to go to the toilet for a number two. He stopped at a restaurant alongside the road. I rushed to the toilet with a roll of toilet paper. I opened the door and saw a hole in the ground on one side. Flies swarmed around the hole. On the other side a saw a familiar western toilet, but is was filled to the nock with… well… doodoo! Like iiiieeeeeuuuuww!!!! I felt like neo in the matrix. Will I take the blue or the red pil? But in this case they both lead down a bad path. Hahaha. I don’t remember anymore how I did it, but I managed.

We arrived in New Delhi with our driver and had to pay him. Prior to the trip we agreed on 20 Rps a kilometer and 200 Rps for each night. We did 750 kilometer and we also stayed some extra nights without travelling. So this meant 750 x 20 Rps for the driving and 200 Rps per night. Easy calculation! Suddenly there was a minimum fee of 150 kilometers a day. So this meant that if you don’t use the car for a few days, which we did, you still have to pay this minimum, which meant paying 3000 Rps a day for not using a car. Sounded strange to us and we were not told this. Another scam? Not again!! Hahaha. We ended up arguing with the driver, his manager and the whole tourist bureau. Eventually after argueing for ages, we met each other halfway, but the good vibes between us and the driver were completely gone. But hey, thats India! Haha.

One custom of Indian men I can’t leave out is the clearance of their throat and nostrals all the time. They seem to spit a lot and don’t hesitate to make a loud sound, while doing it. I say to each his own, but please dont do it 2 seconds after you hand over my delicious, slimey, green curry. Hahaha I had this at a restaurant, you must have a real strong appetite to eat after that.

In New Delhi we visited the Lotus Temple. A Bahá’í House of Worship notable for its flowerlike shape. If you look it up on a map, you can see that even the garden is built in the form of a lotus flower. To get there you have to take of your shoes and walk barefoot on a carpeted stairs, all the way up to the temple. But the smell that was coming from this carpet was horrific!! Hahaha. Imagine thousands of different, indian smelly feet, multiplied with the days of the year and the fact that I’m sure this carpet is never washed you get my grip on what your nose has to go to. Hahaha. But it was more then worth it! When you enter the temple it silences you! A real special experience!

Finally we decided to visit the Gandhi memorial, which is the place where he was assasinated. We asked a new driver to take us to the Gandhi memorial. Strangely enough he didn’t know exactly where it was, but then we saw the signs along the road saying Ghandi Memorial. We followed the signs, got out and followed alongside the crowd in to the building. But inside the building we only saw pictures of an Indian woman, with a lot of history about her, but no signs of Ghandi. Soon we found out that there is also an Indira Gandhi, the first female prime minister who has also been assasinated and also has a memorial. Wrong memorial, but still special. Wow!

We got to the Mahatma Gandhi memorial, which was just a few minutes driving. It was impressive, but strangely enough less crowded. You could see his room where he spent the last minutes and on the floor they layed out his footsteps of his last route. You can follow these footsteps from this room all the way to the garden where they suddenly stop.. on the place where he was assassinated. If that doesn’t bring shivers through your spine, you need to check your nerve system. Greatness!

I had some trouble getting a train ticket for Rishikesh. All the trains were fully booked. I had only one chance to score a ticket and that was by going to the train station in person and go to the foreigner desk. They always save some seats for way too optimistic foreigners who think they can book their Indian train ticket three days in advance. Lol! The hotel staff warned me about scams, so I was prepared. They explained us the exact location of the foreigner desk. “Entrance, first floor on your left”. And luckily they did, because more than once, guys offered us to show us the way to the foreigner desk and tricking us in to going in to their own desk and buy tickets with them which are way more expensive and even false. One guy really topped it off. He tried to convince us that the tourist office moved outside of the train station a while ago. It moved to a white building at the other end of the street. He was more than happy to take us there. Yeah.. and I have crazy written on my forehead. Hahaha. I got the tickets at the real foreigner desk. Jeeja!!

My companion for two weeks was going to leave. I am on my own again. Heading for my silence retreat in the Ashram…