Reprise

They say that when you stop doing the things that you once loved, then you're lost. Maybe that is what I am right now, but I think its also fair to say that 'home' no longer exists, at least not the one that was mine for the past 31 years. That home was the life that I created, a life and the people that I thought would be around forever. But here I am and as I turn the corner and enter my new 'so called life', I find that many of the familiar faces are nowhere to be found. Even though I walk down the same streets that I have my own life and look up into the same faces of my childhood, I seem to have stumbled upon a different reality.

Imagine

Amritsaar is not as developed as Delhi, but it definitely has its own charm. We arrived late in the evening from our train ride and after we settled into our hotel we walked to the Golden Temple, which is brilliantly lit at night. The Temple is surrounded by water and has a walkway in the middle. In the morning we went inside. First, you must buy prasaad for an offering, which is like communion, and it is offered back to you as you exit after it's been blessed. It's basically whole wheat flour, and tons and tons of ghee and sugar made into a soft, warm halva. It's pretty tasty and I'd eat a lot of it, if the oil dripping from my fingers didn't make me want to hightail it straight to a treadmill.

Surrounding the Temple is a white marble courtyard. The whole area is the size of a football field, so you can imagine how serene it is with the water in the middle. For some reason, I felt pride. As a person of the South-Asian diaspora in America, or anywhere else in the world, there's a real disconnect between how we're supposed to think and feel on the inside and how we appear to the natives on the outside. Sometimes, these feelings are not always associated with being proud of being different and our culture, tradition, dress, and eccentricities weren't, and maybe to some degree still aren't, entirely welcome.

But here it was different. I heard my language being spoken everywhere. It's an extraordinary feeling being in a different country and actually feeling like you belong there. People were dressed colorfully and everywhere I looked I saw young brides, as it's customary for newlyweds to come here for blessings. They were so beautiful. Many Indian people from the north have striking green eyes, and you can spot them from 50 feet away. They had on the traditional wedding bangles in red and there was so much gold jewelry and bling- bling everywhere, Jay-Z would have been able to make Big Pimpin 2. Well, minus the yachts and women in thong bikinis.

The main tenet of the Sikh faith is to perform Sewa, a form of community service. True Sikhs must do this often. This includes washing the Temple grounds, making food for the sacred langar (free lunch offered to all), cleaning dishes, and basically seeing that no part of the functioning of any Sikh Temple is left unchecked or unfinished. It doesn't matter whether you're rich or poor, money isn't the commodity, it's integrity. Millionaires come to serve paupers and the poor are fed without question everyday, 24 hours a day, or at least as long as someone is there to help, and it seems like someone always is. I watched in amazement as hundreds people worked like ants in a colony. Efficient and organized. I think maybe this was the kind of community that say someone like John Lennon had envisioned, albeit idealistically. Maybe that's why he came to India so often?!!?

Back to Delhi soon....

Some Perspective...

So I've been in India now for one week and have glimpsed at what my life might have been like had my parents not moved to the U.S. nearly 25 years ago. It's been nine years since my last visit and I'd heard that India was transformed. In a lot of ways it has, there's development everywhere; construction, new offices, and skyscraping corporate headquarters for the much talked about outsourcing that has its grip on this country. There's a new elevated train that makes the MUNI in San Francisco look downright crappy (actually, MUNI is shitty, especially the frickin 45 I have to take every morning that goes through Chinatown, subjecting me to visions of slaughtered skinned pigs in the back of trucks and the gag-inducing smell of Kung Pao chicken at 8:00am).

But some things haven't changed. The traffic is terrifying. The only rule is that there are no rules. 'Get in where you fit in' seems to be the mantra here and places that look unmaneuverable are crossed without a blink of an eye. In between the cars, rickshaws, taxis, scooters, pedestrians, and cows its hard to believe that anyone, or anything, moves forward here.

My parents took me to Amritsaar last weekend, which is where The Golden Temple is housed. For Sikhs, it's akin to Mecca. Even though I don't strictly associate myself with any religion, I felt compelled to go to this place. We took the train there, a torturous and ill-advised plan by parents so I could see the countryside. I would have preferred to have driven there, but was told that the traffic would ensnare us. The train station was a mob scene. In order to get to our train we had to walk through the whole station. On the way, I saw a crowd gathering in front of us and people looking down. As I passed by, I saw something that might haunt me forever: a sheet covering what appeared to be a child's body and two impoverished women sitting on the ground holding each other. Weeping inconsolably. I felt as if I had been struck by one of the trains as I briefly watched this human tragedy in front of me I forced myself to keep walking, not wanting to be just another dispassionate onlooker. I guess these are the moments that take me back to my comfortable life in San Francisco, and then the nausea caused by the Kung Pao chicken in the morning seems trivial, as I guess so many things in life are - when we really think about it.

Okay, the happy stuff comes next - and there's plenty of that too....

Baring the Rest of My Seoul

I woke up the next morning in Seoul and knew it must have been ridiculously early because there wasn't a single person on streets that were filled the night before. I decided to venture out anyways. It was 9:45am to my surprise, not exactly the crack of dawn, but it was still relatively deserted for a weekday. I wandered around for a bit and peered into all of the shops. The mannequins looked anorexic and from experience, I took that as a sign that it might be difficult to find my size here.

Most of the Korean people didn't even notice me walking around, but the few who did looked me up and down in a strange way. The airlines didn't let me pick up my luggage during my layover so I was wearing what I had on since leaving San Francisco. My open-toed shoes were drawing some looks of astonishment as it was rightly chilly at that time in the morning, but the sun was out so I would go stand in a patch of it whenever I could to defrost my feet a bit.

I asked someone in a tourist office where I could go since my flight left in 6 hours. She said there was a covered market not too far away where I could see some traditional Korean things. I made my way over there and before me lay a maze of socks, fried delicacies, some things that looked positively frightening to eat, and every imaginable rip-off of designer goods that anyone could want. As I walked through while everyone was setting up, I realized I was the only foreigner around at that hour. The vendors kept calling out to me as I walked by, especially the ones selling shoes. I wished I wasn't walking through there alone and then I did something surprising: I turned to walk back to the comfort of the Dunkin Donuts and the Starbucks and the other familiar territory by my hotel. I guess I didn't feel like exploring this culture on my own.

I walked into the Dunkin Donuts, not because I wanted a donut, but because it was the only thing that was open. I was confused. There weren't any bags for take-out. Instead, I was handed a tray. Aimlessly I perused the glazed donuts and stopped to look at the green ones - definitely a Korean variety I decided.

"Now, you're not Korean", I heard from behind me. I turned to see a cute youngish-looking white guy smiling back at me. At first I thought he was American, but after a few more sentences I realized he was Irish. I don't know why, but I felt relieved. Maybe I was just lonely and welcomed any contact that didn't involve someone talking me into buying a fake Rolex. Rich. That was his name. Travelling abroad for a year before going back to finish law school. He was 23 and all of the sudden, I felt quite old when I told him I was 30, which he politely refused to believe for a second anyways.

I told him I only had six hours, so he quickly offered to be my tour guide in Seoul, as he had been here for two weeks visiting a friend. We went to the top of a famous tower in Seoul and on the way he told me of his travel stories. He was on his way to China, Mongolia, and then India. He told me the stories of his previous travels in Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, etc. Seems like every traveller has the same ingredients in his or her tales: alcohol, a crazy local, an experience in a shady place, maybe some drugs, usually some form of a sexual encounter, strange foreign customs, an unfortunate theft, maybe a story of fleeting love, and always, a great story in the end.

After the tower it was decided that I should try to have at least one proper Korean meal. We walked into an interesting place and tried to order something based on the pictures on the menu. Out came at least half a dozen little side dishes - which I learned is customary with every meal. By the time my main meal came out, I could only finish two bites but I think it was also the strong Korean beer that was filling me up. Rich was funny and kept me entertained. I knew by the way he was looking at me he was hoping I'd get to be one of his travel stories. There were two hours left to my flight and after lunch he walked me to my hotel.

As I got on my plane later I thought about travel, and what about it made everything seem so alluring and exciting - the unknown I guess. I suppose an afternoon like I had just experienced could have easily happened in San Francisco. But then again, I suppose no one would approach me with the line 'Hey, you don't look Korean!', and actually get a warm response back from me.

I'm writing this from India now. I wanted to finish my Korean portion before I began to write about this crazy place and what might happen here that will probably affect me for the rest of my life.

Searching for my Seoul....

March 11, 2007 7:30pm - March 12, 2007 4:00pm


I arrived into Incheon airport in Seoul totally dazed, partly from the flight and partly from the concoction of pharmaceuticals I took in order to survive a 12.5 hour flight in Economy class (I blame my ex who showed me the world of first class through our, admittedly, turbulent relationship.) Back with the other proletariats my only hope was to order a special vergetarian low-cal meal (they serve you first), and revel in the fact that I had finessed my way into an exit row seat, which as you might have guessed it, is the poor-man's upgrade. A guy behind me noticed my extra leg-room and offered me five bucks to switch with him. I shot him a look that read 'five bucks doesn't even afford you the right to make such an absurd request', and in retaliation he countered with raising it to six bucks. Unbelievable.

I made friends with Sami, the Syrian sitting next to me, who worked for Samsung. He also complained about not getting an upgrade. It made me think about that movie Jerry Maguire, where Renee in all of her squinty-eyed wisdom observed that first-class isn't just a better meal these days - it's a better life. Amen sister.

I was taken to my overnight hotel, which was smack dab in the middle of Seoul's shopping district. Some genius at Asiana was working with Seoul's retail consortium on this deal. Duh! As for me, I retired to my room and looked out my window at the Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks, 7-11, and Outback Steakouse in view and sadly enough, wasn't even mildly surprised. Weclome to America!

I went downstairs to eat at the hotel restaurant, which was empty save for a handful of Korean businessmen. There was a stage and an attractive woman in a jade dress was singing songs in English. The entertainment for the evening. I heard the melody. It was unmistakable: 'Stand By Your Man.' Tammy Wynnette was surely rolling in her grave. I stared at her with a curious mixture of exhaustion, apathy, and pity. Pity because the group of Korean businessmen were her only 'fans' and in the twisted reality that I know is this world, one would probably buy her a few drinks and then buy the right to later take off her clothes in his room upstairs for the the only real money she was going to be making, and perhaps her true purpose for being at the Royal Korea hotel. And somewhere in Korea the businessman's wife was, dutifully, standing by her man.

More later...

You Can't Always Get What You Want....

He did call back. In the middle of the night, to say sorry. Did he ever think for a minute that he might not get me back? Probably not.

This is exhausting. Half the time I think about us and the future. The other half I think about me and the future. Can I really do this? Moving to another country for someone else is nothing to mess around with. Hell, moving in with someone down the street can be scary...

To make things worse temptation is everywhere. Is there a proverb that goes something like 'when you ask for a drought, you get a flood' if not, there should be. Literally. I can't walk down the street without someone trying to pick me up. Where the hell where you guys when I was sure that San Francisco was Satan's plan for a secret hell for single women? So now they're jumping out of bushes brandishing their business cards? Ah....but I am a good girl. But in any case, you'd better watch those calls threatening the end Dutchie...

The Finale

I guess it was inevitable, and can't say that I didn't see this coming. But that never seems to offer any real consolation when it finally goes down, does it? After 7 months of airports, hotel rooms, and endless phonecalls and e-mails, we broke it off. Maybe some part of me should feel relieved, because God knows this hasn't been easy on either of us. Should is a strange word, because it lmost always means that you will end up doing or feeling the opposite.

So here I am - alone again. Its weird that when you become single again, you expect yourself to go back to the way you were before, but find that you can't because someone has come along and changed you. As I listened to all the good reasons, I couldn't help but wonder why love just isn't enough anymore. Now when you tell someone that you want to be with them forever, that in itself can drive them away. I know he'll call tomorrow and want it back. Ask me to forget this feeling right now -how hard it is to breathe.

Update

Hi there!

I know its been awhile since I updated my blog, and I have probably lost all of my devoted readers' interest, but I'm back!

It's November in San Francisco now and the nights are getting longer. Four months after getting back from Turkey and it feels like I was never there, but it many ways Turkey changed the course of my life.

One of those ways is Lennart. We'll still together, inprobable but true. He came back here to spend a week with me in October so we could figure out where (or if) to go on with this very long distance relationship. The hardest part about living far away from someone you love isnt always the distance, its the 'can't's. I can't call him anytime I want to, he's usually asleep when I'm awake, or we're both at work. I can't look forward to seeing him after a particularly trying day, so that we might ease each others' minds. I cant stand having him on the other end of a computer keyboard either. Since when did Skype become a replacement for companionship?

We spent the week with the 'white elephant'in the room that neither of us wanted to acknowledge. I think we both knew that what we were trying to do was insane - we hadn't ever lived in the same city with each other and we were trying to have a serious relationship. I think he wanted us to move on with our lives, alone. I think he still does, but here is the most important can't: he can't and neither can I.

So things are still trying to move forward, we've made plans to see each other as often as we can for the next 6 months, at the end of which we're hoping to spend several months together, then possibly a move. Who's moving? We can't tell what will happen in the future...and that's life right?

Sex, Drugs, and (bad) Rock 'n Roll...

Last night I had the precursor party to my real birthday, which is on the 10th. To be perfectly honest, I didn't want to have this party and as a matter of fact - I don't like celebrating my birthday. Oh sure, the gifts are cool and its nice to have everyone pay for your drinks all night too, but otherwise - they really bite.

I decided to inspire myself by having my hair done for the event. I told her to touch up the highlights in my hair, and instead I walked out with blonde hair. I'm Indian. I'm not meant to have blonde hair. But trying to keep up the optimistic outlook I've decided to work with it and see life en blonde. I look like a total chola.

The party turned out to be pretty entertaining. It was good to see my friends again, and also some random people who showed up as guests. My friend Martin payed DJ, which led to either some really great song to dance to, followed by 'What a Feeling'. But when he and Alex (yeah...that Alex) sang a duet to 'How Do You Talk to An Angel...?', belting it out like some bad cock rock nightmare, I pulled the plug. Talk about clearing the dancefloor - nice one guys! I put my IPOD selection back in play, but every so often Martin would sneak up while I wasn't looking, and next thing you know 'You Can't Touch This', was blaring...

Of course a party isn't a party unless someone has sex on your roommate's bed, (sorry Lamice, I hope you don't read my blog). My friend Benny who, by the way, probably has the the most massive hangover today, couldn't make up his mind as to who to hookup with, and thought would be a good idea to hook up with 3 of my friends last night. I got to hear the stories this morning. Benny, you whore...

Okay so we got sex, and rock and roll covered, you know what's missing, but that would be way too incriminating. You never know who's reading these things...

Goin Back to Cali

Hi All!

I'm back, with a vengeance. Came back on the first of August, and my life has been on fast forward ever since. I'll try to rewind as best I can, but the more that happens the faster my memory forgets one event and moves onto the other, and a lot has gone down. I dedicate the new pink template to my girls: The Pink Ladies. Pics will explain later.

My sister and niece came into town the same day that I did, which was such a treat. She seems to know a lot for a four year old, or she would like us to think, wonder where she got that from..

Lennart arrived in SF a couple of weeks later. His first taste of America, thank God I don't live in Omaha or something. I knew if I was going to impress him I'd have to pull out all the stops, so I took him to Napa, Tahoe, and Yosemite, and how could you not be blown away by that?

The week was tense, up until then it seemed like just a fun story...good material to write about, and who didn't want to read about what had happened with the queen bed? But it was different now - the ride was over, and everything didn't seem as simple when we were both off. The only thing we had decided was that we weren't going to try to attempt the long-distance thing. Where is the satisfaction in that? So that left two options: me in Holland or him here.

Right. In someone else's reality, perhaps. I tried to look at it from a rational perspective, but that's just all bullshit when it comes to your own feelings. Who is rational about what they want? Especially when you want it so badly? He left, and took a part of me with him.

Three days later I left for Burning Man. The endless emails, excel spreadsheets, conference calls, and furious preparations for absurd items that needed to be secured (think blinky lights and fur bikinis) finally had an end result: mayhem, mind-bending ingenuity, hedonistic behavior, rampant uncontrolled substances, unexpected serenity, chaos, love and commitment, freakishly clever creativity, unchecked sexuality, and of course, The Future: Fear and Hope. The embodiment of Burning Man 2006, and my own life too.

I watched. I participated. I laughed and cried. I felt lost and then my friends made me feel found. I danced unabashedly. After nearly 7 months, I danced until my soul felt healed. I tried to give and I failed, then I surprised myself and did something that made someone else feel good. Things are a continual 'work in progress', or that's what I tell myself. What did John Lennon used to say? "Whatever gets you through the night, is alright..."

He called the morning I got back. Said he wanted to try to be with me in SF.

My Sanity was Outsourced to a Call Center in India.....

Now as an Indian-American I am all for the economic boom in India, but we have to end the madness with the call-centers. I tried to change my flight with United and the guy in India told me that there would be no problem, that was the problem. When I arrived at the airport in Amsterdam, I was told that no way was I getting on my flight and if I wanted to I would simply have to pay $750.00 for a new segment!!!! This totally screwed up a succession of connecting flights and hotels that I had changed due to the suggestion of seemingly helpful guy in Banglore. I want to call back and scream insults in both languages at this guy....

Okay, I a while since I updated my blog but I'm now at the Munich airport trying to get back to the states, but the forces are against me as it would seem. I just finished off a week in Holland with Lennart. It was great - we found a dozen ways to do just nothing, which was what I sorely needed to do after my sojournn in the middle east during the worst crisis in over ten years ...great time to have gone huh?
After Tel Aviv, we stayed a few nights in Istanbul, which has to be one of the most exciting cities I have ever been to.

Saw my friends Maiike and Mathias in Amsterdam, I had met them during my dive course in Panama 5 years ago and we have always managed to keep in touch. I stayed with Lennart in Den Haag for most of the trip. Den Haag is a quiet quaint city, where the essentials of Dutch life (bike riding and drinking on terraces) are strictly observed. Its a nice way of life and so different to the SF way of life.

Speaking of which, I'll be back to my way of life soon and am wondering how its going to feel like...

Its Lonely at the Top..

Shalom..

As you might have guessed we're in Israel. I think we last left off in Aqaba. We got on a public bus to Petra and sat in the back with ten teenage Jordanian boys, who looked at us with a mixture of fascination and ridicule. I guess the girls they knew didn't do this sorta thing.

Petra was as beautiful as I hoped it would be, and I have nothing but positive feelings for the Bedouin tribes that have lived there for centuries. They were curious, courteous, and always fair and honorable merchants, which pretty much goes for all of the Jordanians we met. Funny how the people you meet on a journey can completely change the experience. We met another American traveler who suggested we accompany him on a hike to climb Jabal Haroun , the highest peak in Petra and a solid five walk to get there. It was so isolated that we only met a few tribal members on the way that were so short on resources, they were asking us for food and water. This should have alarmed me as to the seriousness of the situation should anything go wrong, but it didn't.

Now,this is a long story, and I'll make it shorter as its giving me the chills just talking about it. We attempted to reach the summit off the marked trail, which meant making some difficult climbs and receiving more than our share of injuries along the way. We had no equipment or rope in case something went wrong. After reaching the top and searching around for an hour, we realized the way down was not obvious. What was obvious was that we were in trouble -just how much we would find out later at police headquarters after we had been rescued many excruciating hours later.

We later found out that it was advised to never go that deep into the desert without guides and even they, as locals, had been known to get lost. We learned that our climb was considered dangerous, and to have done it off trail bordered on the insane. Oh, we also were nearly out of water, and were informed that were were most lucky as others had also been discovered there, but were sent home in bodybags as the desert can be most unforgiving to those not accustomed to the harsh landscape. At the police station, we suddenly came under the distinct expression that while we were not being held, we were also not free to leave. We were exhasted to the point of near collapse and very hungry. The police chief was obviously a bit more interested in me than neccesary, so I used the opportunity to diplomatically, and not entirely without embarrassment, flirt with him to allow us to leave.

We decided to leave Petra the next day. After a stressful transfer in Amman, which is as sketchy as any big city but more so to two foreign women. As luck would have it, we had missed the main border crossing times into Israel, and had to be driven a hundred kilometers away to the next one, which tured out to be a blessing as it landed us at the Sea of Galilee - a tourist haven complete with tacky resorts with waterslides and pools that we shamelessly played in all day.

Jerusalem next....

eretz isreal

(alexandra - written on the way down to eilat - mid-day july 7th)

still on massive trekking day of travel - we landed in tel aviv and found cheap transport to eilat - another bus via the negev desert - where we hope we will be able to cross into jordan at the red sea.

israel is an amazing country - we have found both swindlers and very kind and helpful people and are quite surprised frankly that we have been able to navigate these parts as well as we have.

there is a mcdonalds here - and a memorial plaque every 20 kms or so documenting the history and commemorating those that sacrificed their lives to build this country. i made jyoti read the brief summary on isreali history, zionism and the various wars and recent news to give us both some background information in our let's go (lonely planet is better though - i am convinced). i feel like i'm in sicily - it's the same sketchy mediterranean feel - but there is something very resilient about these people which i admire very much that makes this place distinctly different and all it's own - with its kaleidoscope of mixed cultures (ethiopians, sephardic jews, arabs and ashkenazis).

everywhere you go there are young soldiers - both men and women - israelis from different backgrounds barely old enough to have sex, carrying military issued machine guns. jyoti and i are sandwiched between two guns right now - one by a very turkish looking young man with headphones dozing, and the other carried by a very attractive redhead young girl - reading from right to left (i think) in hebrew and listening to music as well. they are so young, they are just so young.

a young man from yevna gave jyoti and i a NIS to use the toilet and asked us where we were from. and we had the best fresh squeezed orange juice made for us by an old man who looked like he could've been the head of state here some years back. there are orchards, green houses and fields (even vineyards) that color the countryside. the desert does bloom here as they say. and if you imagine that the language spoken here with its incorporated arabic slang was dead 100 years ago it makes you wonder in amazement. and you also see the bedouin tents on the fields as the families tend sheep and try to put your head around how it all fits together.

i'm glad i came here - it is a bit crazy - and jyoti's promised my family i won't convert (seriously) but we are in israel and we just criss-crossed half of turkey - and i am just a little bit richer in perspective for it - even if i haven't slept or showered for over 36 hours.

homeless

(alexandra - written in the early hours of morning of July 7th)

i'm sleeping on a bench at the airport in ankara - it is safe as there are a number of families doing the same thing. it is past 1 AM in the morning and the last two days have been a whirlwind of thoroughly marvelous cappodoccian experiences. the land of a thousand horses provided jyoti and i with a hike and simple but substantive lunch through the ihlara valley in a place that could be anywhere in the world (africa, latin america) - but none the less massively inspirational.

our last night in cappodoccia was magical (july 6th) - we shared shorn chic peas with the owner, his sister and good friends and ended up befriending the local but very well traveled balloon pilots (the conditions for ballooning in cappodoccia are apparently the best in the world) where we discovered we were all roughly the same age - and generally in the same place in life. after tasting a carton of carte d'or with three turkish men and a young teenager and smoking some cigarettes, we opened up about our recent heartaches and aspirations and discovered we had wracked up three failed engagements between us, another among us is currently in love, and another (the man with the hat) is rumored to have a non-existent wife. it was a pretty special night and made our visit to cappodoccia all the more enchanting.

today - in the valley we feasted on apricot pits that tasted like bitter fragrant almonds and visited the church of st. daniel which surprisingly even the muslim tour guide even confirmed in his religion is a prophet and not a saint. what was interesting about this church is that there was a fresco our guide had written his thesis on that depicted the virgin mary on her death bed (instead of merely sleeping as it is generally incorrectly identified as) with jesus handing her a child wrapped in swaddling clothes. perhaps reading angels and demons in a bad idea before seeing some of the wonders of the christian tradition - but this may be one of two frescos in the area that could substantiate the holy grail as a blood line theory - and they were all done around/after the crusades.

we also went 200 meters into the ground to look at stone caves built for communities to retreat into the ground when attacked. they could survive for three months down there without going to the surface - had ventilation shafts, and even a winery. the doors also were secured with stone (blue - did i just write that) balls that indiana jones rolled away from in his first movie of the series. it was cold down there - and my geeky led headlamp worked quite well - though i think my guide was bothered when i continued to - not on purpose - shine it into his eyes.

we also climbed a mountain to the top of a monastery where monks from what appeared to be the byzantine period decorated the churches with frescos with halos and card signs (spades, diamonds, etc.). i found some arabic chiseled - in which my guide could only identify allah) into a square column between two round ones that had been desecrated by tradesmen traveling through the spice route with their caravans who took over the place after the christians left.

after that we stopped at one of the largest caravansali in the area (rest stops built 30km apart for traders - the distance a camel could travel in one day) - it was beautiful and there was a mini mosque (equivalent to a chapel) in the center which we climbed after sharing turkish tea with the locals there (our driver was most kind - he took a liking to us right away). the stone etchings look like the intricate designs on the plates they sell in the center of town. they incorporate a lot of geometry and are way more symmetrical than the primitive frescos we saw painted by the christians during the same period.

jyoti and i are down to our last turkish lira and are trying to stay on budget - we are exhausted - this is endurance traveling. but our ME trek individual sound tracks continue to inspire - i discovered damien rice on jyoti's - along with umberto tozzi (i never knew martin you had a liking to him) and jyoti's enjoying the extensive bob marley collection on mine (thanks jon).

and of my heart? my heavy boots are lighter still and it looks like our plane to istanbul just landed. the sun is rising in the east and tomorrow we will be in tel aviv . . .

Where in the world are we...?

Here..

Some pics..

We have a camera, bu not the device to load up our pics, so here are some pics from the web..

In the Deep

Salaam!

We're in Jordan now after a travel itinerary that would try the spirit of any seasoned traveler. We spent the night at the Ankara airport, then bussed our way through Israel sandwiched between two Israeli soldiers sleeping with AK-47's in their laps. One of them, a girl looking no older than 18. Too wierd. Violence is breaking out heavily now in Gaza, bad timing for the two gals from California looking for some adventure. Hope we don't get more than what we bargained for.

We arrived at our hotel in Aqaba, and the minute we walked in all conversation ground to halt, I suppose we were a sight after not sleeping and sitting on a stinkly bus (Israeli buses make the buses in Turkey look like Lear jets). The litle voice inside me that has alerted me in the past 6 months of living in the middle east immediatly told me that this place was not woman-friendly. Hell, there wasn't even a single other guest there. We turned around and hightailed it of there and wound up staying at a four star place way over budget , but you can't really negotiate with your saftey, I guess.

Our position in the world is pretty interesting, we can see Israel, Jordan, and Egypt from one standpoint and further down tomorrow we will also see Saudi Arabia.
We went diving today, my first dive in a year or so, and am happy to say that even though I am a bit rusty, you never forget how to do something you love. Our dive master was Ahmed, who lives in England, and has developed an Arabic/Cambridge accent. Another colorful character on this journey. He was a really good instructor, there was a moment when water got into my mask and stung my eyes so bad I wanted out of the water, but he led me up to up make sure I was okay, his obvious ease with the art of diving seemed to reassure me as well, and within a minute I was back down in the deep swimming with the fishes.

Alex and I have been doing great together and we make a good team. Considering we have only been friends for a short while we seem to be intuitive of each other's needs, and yes we do want to kill each other sometimes....but that's normal. I thought back to the time I backpacked in Asia and was so annoyed with my travel mate that I actually left her in some remote Thai beach village. I wonder if she's still there......

ındependence

(alexandra)

it was july 4th yesterday - jyoti and i celebrated by going to alaturca - highly recommended - and having kebob. over a glass of wine and a turksih crescent moon we talked about exactly where we were in our lives - and the departure of her and our honestly wonderful traveling companion.

we went hiking out to the canyon lands for a four hour hike today fueled by bitter almonds and sparkling water purchased in an off the beaten track town where st. john the baptist church collapsed in an earthquake killing four townspeople in 1960.

the sky is blue and i am burnt - well at least the front side of my body is - as are my shoulders and back - but i am wearing a visor so my face is fine - and i know a dear friend in israel somewhere will be very happy to know that.

jyoti and i have switched ipods or bubble realities - as she is thoroughly sick of hers and i am thoroughly sick of mine. the cosmos club version of coldplay's clocks by the way is great music to climb into and out of rose valley - and into and out of carved churches with beautiful frescos and chiseled ceilings.

it is our last official night in cappodoccia as we head to the ihlara valley tomorrow via neveshir, kaymakli and some other town i can't really recall at this hour. we'll see the underground cities, the cave churches (yet again - am looking forward to my first mosque visit) - but no dervish dancers this time around. after that we hop on the last bus in town back to ankara (a five hour ride) and then crash at the airport till we board an early flight to tel aviv to head over to masada and the dead sea. and then petra.

no massive epiphanies - save that i'm not walking with as heavy boots anymore - they are definitely less heavy - and cheb maım (mami?) sounds nothing like the five daily calls to prayer emanating from the mosque towers - and all the worlds you imagined while reading as a child were really inspired by places you just haven't seen yet.

obscure goreme facts - there is no shıt a ufo museum here - a KOA campground (i could've used my german koa membership - if only i had known) with a noticeably absent american flag outside - and we saw the only israeli flag we'll probably see in the middle east outside of israel at a leather shop selling lvmh products. hmh.

and i think i was just offered a job here in the tourist industry involving marketing that seems legit - doesn't involve some exchange for me and a couple camels or having to dress up like princess leia in java the huts harem. not bad. options are always worth considering . . .

Reprieve

(Jyoti)

After nearly half a year of being out of SF, I feel as if a little bit of home came to Turkey in the form of Alexandra. After spending a few days I am now up to date and since nothing has changed back there I've decided not to come back anymore. Just kidding: I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH FUN PEOPLE HAVE BEEN HAVING WITHOUT ME! I feel stangely useless. Who knew that life went on without me? Surely not I.

Lennart has been subjected to endless reports on the dating scene in SF and I give him some serious props for sitting through three days of chickanese. Poor guy, and we worked him to loan us his brand new camera for our trip too (he had to go back to Holland today). Thanks baby...

We're in Cappadoccia and officially already broke. Never fails, I always spend all of my money the first three days of my trip (Mum send the Western Union now!) But what's money when I can't remember the last time I was this happy? Something is in the air...

i was born in a cave

(alexandra)

flinstone and bono -

we ate at the orient restaurant last night - there is something about Cappodoccian wine and travelers conversation. We went to the open air museum yesterday and I finished angels and demons. I can see why Turry was so excited about going to Rome after reading that book. I can't remember the last time I stayed up all night to finish a book. Thank God for my LED light - it really works wonders as a reading lamp - I'm officially a nerd - but hell I've always been one so why deny it.

philosophy, history, love. We've become friends with the local townies - to the point where we are once or twice removed from childhood friends and aware of the life stories of the individuals who work in the tourist industry.

have you ever sat on two planks and shared apple tea with a turkish man that reminds you of bono? or had what looked like kimchi with saffron chicken and the best mezes you'll ever experience in your life?

and the internet is slow - but I'm sleeping in a cave - and as I share a drink at the local flinstone's (freuds in london, the rokerye in a'dam) all I can think about is where is Brian and Ro and Jules to share their assessments along with Jyoti and Lennart in a stone cave - with the most awesome chill turkish music you could imagine that you wished you remembered enough to later identify it?

turkish soundtrak continued - you will always hear bob marley, tracy chapman, bob dylan, and david grey playing in the background - and you can find a sexual bent to "one love" - it isn't only about world peace - and tracy chapman has never had a functional relationship - and neither have dylan or grey - and yes their heroin addictions could have something to do with that.

could someone just put tracy chapman out of her misery?

so the open air museum - beautiful cave-like churches everywhere, desecrated by tourists or religious zealots - people so persecuted they retreated to the caves to a life of solitude. they built underground cities to go into the earth ( they call this place middle earth - it is the source of tolkiens inspiration with a bit of moab thrown in) because they were so in fear of religious persecution.

we found good coffee - illy - so i feel at home. jyoti and i had a seminal conversation with lennart where we explained the phenomena of the urban cougar - what they are - how they pounce - the aftermath of the attacks - and the emerging cougars in training. why is it that men who prey on younger women have no such equivalent pejorative conceptual pronouns? he says - in the rational directness of a dutchman who is highly evolved at just over 30 - that "it makes sense - you learn how to ride a bike on an old bike no?" if only someone in san francisco could come up with an explanation as simply perfect as that.

by the way - we're staying at the local cave house and the proprietor is great - this place has atmosphere in troves. and the guy was born in a cave - if only he could catch jyoti, lennart and I a delicious bass - we might then just perhaps bake him a cake.

Plan B goes into action....

After several consular trips, dozens of phonecalls, shameless flirting, some pleading, and a near attempt at bribery, I have been emphatically denied a visa to Syria. No valid reason why except: I'm American and persona non grata.

So now, after Cappadoccia, we will be flying to Israel instead of trying to attempt it by land. So sis, I know you're keeping track of me this way, we're no longer going to be in Antakya or Damascus, but from Jordan on, Inshallah,the itninery still stands...

'Jyoti in Turkey' ends...

Hello All!

So this will be the last installment to 'Jyoti in Turkey', as I am getting ready to leave my fellowship and Adana in about 10 days. I'll still keep a blog but it will be changed slightly.

Its been a long strange trip here, and definitely one of the most interesting periods of my life. There 's a lot about Turkey that I will miss, mostly the people who have befriended me here and have spent countless hours navigating me through life here as foreigner with minimal Turkish language ability - most notably my friend Nurcan. She is going to kill me for mentioning her, but who cares I'm leaving anyways. She made me part of her family here and without her I would have surely been missing home more. Congratulations on nearing the completion of your Ph.D!

While living in Turkey has come with its challenges, namely the oppressively masculine atmosphere at times, it has taught me a lot about how hard people work in other countries to attain the things I take for granted in America. I now can understand what my parents meant when they tell me to be grateful, because so many people in this world would love to be able to do the things that I have the freedom and resources to do.

So, just so its on the record for everyone to know where we are and when for the month of July here is the Middle East travel itinerary which, by the way, everyone who I come across and mention this to here thinks we have lost our minds for trying to attempt in the thick of the middle east summer (expected temperatures in some places we are planning to visit: 115-130F).

Cappadoccia, Turkey July 1-5
Antakya, Turkey July 6
Damascus, Syria July 7
Petra, Aqaba , Red Sea, Jordan July 8-10
Jersusalem, Tel Aviv, Gaza Strip(ha ha just kiddin Mom - no Gaza), Israel July 10-15
Istanbul, Turkey July 16-19
Holland July 19-30 (just me...bye Alex!)

Be back in SF on Aug. 1. Miss everything there so much...

Jyoti

Surina's Graduation

My neice graduated from pre-school...I'm so proud of her.

Ending

After the convention ended, Lennart and I had four more days to check Prague out. We rented an apartment closer to the center of town since the hotel we were staying was further outside.

The apartment was located on Weinsclaus Square, which isn't a square at all but rather a street equivalent to say Times Square for the number of tourists factor. There was some mix up with the apt., which of course had to happen, and as we were settling into one room, we were told we needed to move to another. The elevator was so small we actually had to take turns using it, in order to accommodate our (my) luggage. Yes, I have taken a secret oath to never travel 'light' whatever that means.

The next few days we walked around and blended in well with the other 3 million tourists. Since it was raining intermittently, we were frequently forced to take refuge in some restaurant, bar, or the other since I hate to get wet. (I can only imagine that the amount of patience a man must have to put up with me must be of truly biblical proportions.) But it all seemed to work out really well, every time there was a downpour, we would unknowingly walk into really cool places.

One was a place called Glamour, where our original intention was to have some tea and maybe soup, we spent five hours drinking and becoming friendly with the staff. The place was very chic, the decor was very classy and moderne and the music they had on was the best. Found out it was SF local Miguel Migs!

The next day on our way to the castle, in fear of being drenched again, we slipped into this cozy dimly lit little cafe that was smaller than the size of my bedroom in SF, where we wiled away a couple more hours. These by far stand out as the best moments of our trip.

On Saturday we went to see Tosca at the State Opera, it was so much fun to get all dressed up for a night out on the town. We had agreed not to mention this to anyone, but after the second act, Lennart and I assumed that it was over and headed for a taxi, we changed our minds and decided to have another drink inside. People were still in their seats milling around, and we kept saying 'I wonder why they are still in their seats?' Then the bells rang: it was time for act three! We almost missed the ending because we thought it was over, big opera experts we were. We then went to a restaurant called HOT that was, yes you guessed it, supposed to be very hot.

The next morning at 5:00am, hungover and sleepless, we both departed to the airport to catch our respective flights home.

I've got to figure out how I am going to get all this stuff I've accumulated over the past four months into 2 suitcases and a couple of carry ons...

Praha

Praha

Romantic Photo Opp

A Night At The Opera

I Feel So Grown Up!

Sir, no drinks down there please!

Puppy Love

Us in Prague

Back by Popular Demand!

Hi Folks!

I've been reading some of the comments posted on my blog, and was surprised to find what a small blogging world it is - I had a former student from SF find my site!

So, about Prague, finally the long-awaited sequel to Lennart/Jyoti story continues! Once again the pics will have to wait...

I arrived in Prague after spending time in Budapest with Michelle. I checked into the hotel and figured that Lennart was attending the conference, but to my surprise he showed up as I was getting my keys to the room. At least this time I knew there weren't going to be any mix-ups about the bed, so you can imagine my surprise when I walked in and noticed that there were two twin beds next to each other with separate blankets, instead of a proper full bed. The irony of this did not escape me. We decided to go to a cocktail mixer for the conference attendees. I thought it would be a lot of fun, since nobody knew who I was, to create some sort of false identity for myself (such as stunt double or FBI agent) just to make things a bit more amusing (C'mon it was the European Patent Convention). But one look from Lennart told me that I'd better cool it with the hijinks this week.

After the cocktail reception, we went into town and had dinner at a very nice restaurant where it started to rain and continued in this holding pattern for the rest of the week.

The next day, while Lennart was at the conference, I went into town to do a little shopping and only managed to get lost twice. Prague is really captivating, the architecture and attention to detail in every building is exceptionally unique. One problem was that after Turkey and Hungary, I had lost all ability to convert currency into what I was spending dollar-wise. Why couldn't the amounts be in normal congfiguration? Did my cappucino really have to cost $120.00 Czech crony? Was that like 3 or 4 bucks...? Anyways, I decided to give up converting and treat myself to a terrifying moment when I looked up my accounts later that week after my trip.

When I got back home, Lennart told me that we were off to a conference dinner somewhere in town. Of course we were among the last to arrive and found ourselves looking for a good table to sit at. Lennart wanted to sit at a table with some people he was acquainted with but they all seemed to be middle-aged women. Two words: knitting circle. No way was I going to subject myself to conversations about cross-stitching patterns for the next few hours. I quickly nixed it and pointed to a table where there were a group of people more our age range. Lennart and I assumed our seats and introduced ourselves to a table of 3 Austrian men, two English men, and one Italian woman. Complete with Lennart, a veritable European delegation , and me the lone American.

Martin, one of the English men, was the star of the table, he was boisterous, loud ( and I suspected drunk), and kept a good flow of conversation at the table. Actually, I take that back - he held a monologue for most of the evening. Lennart was being held conversational hostage by Italian woman he was seated next too, and I admittedly, was getting rather annoyed by her. Every so often she would look at me and give me a thin smile and a look that meant "Oh, we're just talking shop, honey." I would return the polite look and momentarily imagine what it would actually feel like to claw at someone's face. But her face didn't need anymore damage to make it look bad (catty!) , so I just sighed and headed out with Lee, the other English guy, to have a smoke and look at pictures of his two twin kids, who were very darling, and talk about the nuances of Dutch people, as he was married to one.

More later.....

Budapest

Szia!


I'm here in Budapest with my friend Michelle and must say this is truly a beautiful city. Its such a change from Turkey to not be constantly on guard when walking around. Couples openly showing affection actually seemed scandalous when I first arrived. Unfortunately,I picked up a case of food poisoning yesterday and am still struggling to hold on to my cookies. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

Stay tuned for Jyoti and Lennart in Prague...I get there tomorrow!

Ha...

Detox

So I've decided to go on a detox diet this week...the first few days I can only drink water and juice and then for the next few days only raw fruits and veggies. This is similiar to the 'macro-biotic' diet that Madonna uses. Now I can understand why she's a lunatic...watch for reports from Turkey about an American woman going postal at a kebap stand.

Ode to Lennart

It was recently brought to my attention that I wasn't painting a very nice picture of Lennart. So I wrote you a poem Lennart. I hope this conveys how I really feel!

You come from the land of clogs,
and big fattie spliffs the size of logs.
Stop acting like a grouchy old rabid dog,
you should feel lucky to be featured in my blog.

At that hotel in Ankara for the first time I saw you loom,
while you were probably wondering how to get me into your room.
In the end you gave me only your card.
I tried to fıgure out what you did,
but it was in Dutch, so it was kinda hard.

In the morning I brought you your coffee in a cup,
I hope you're not the kind of guy who would want a pre-nup.
Of course I am kidding, I don't want to tie the knot.
Besides, its really cold in Holland and I like places that are hot.

In Greece I followed you up the stairs.
You wanted to see the view,
even though my feet hurt and I didn't really care.
But up I dutifully went,
iı probably had something to do with the money on me you had just spent.
(Thanks for the earrings.)

Even though right now we are apart,
I keep you close to my heart.
Don't fret! We'll soon be in Prague.
And if you're good this time,
I'll let you visit me later this summer and see the SF fog.

Eternal Flame

This is the 'Eternal Flame' in Chimera. Flames shoot up from openings from rocks and burn continously . They are really quite spectacular. I lit my cigarette from one and sat, contemplating as I watched a German family having a picnic close to us. They were toasting bread and wieners in the flames. Then I thought about the implications of all this: If word ever got out in the Indian communities all over the world that there was a place where you had unlimited energy to cook for FREE, it would be sheer pandemonium here.

There would be busloads of Indian people coming with pots full of aromatic Indian dishes to cook all day long. This would be like Mecca, a religious place (and yeah I'm taking a dig at my own culture here, you cheap bastards..).

Well, now its out- I've let it leak. Come one, come all,to this sacred place, bring your mango chutney and chicken tikka masala and rejoice.

Olympos, Chiamera, Cirali

Some ruins and such...

Meis

Meis From our Hotel

If Only...

The next city on our itinerary was Kas (pronounced Khash), - ' If Only ', in my language. I fell in love with Kas. We arrived at our hotel quite late because our drive from Oludeniz had a few unexpected pit stops, such as stopping into a bakery only to spend an hour and a half talking to a man who wanted to practice his English with us. After 4 cups of tea, we finally excused ourselves and were on our way. Lennart was much more talkative this time (I relented and let him drive).

The hotel, like many touristy places in Turkey, was catered for its German visitors. I had a bit of a sore throat so I asked our waiter, who bore a very creepy resemblance to Michael Jackson in his post-skin bleaching alien look alike days, for some tea with honey. He was flabbergasted and swore that in all his ten years at the hotel nobody had ever asked him for tea with honey. Stupefied, he moonwalked back to the kitchen and I heard more snickering with the rest of the staff, as if I had just asked for a side of cocaine with my tea.

Off the coast of Kas, was Meis - a Greek island! I had never been to Greece so we decided to stay in Kas one more night so we could go spend the day exploring Meis. The boat trip was the best part- the Mediterranean Sea is truly beautiful - it turns so many colors of blue and green and is so clear you look right down into the water for a good ten feet.

Meis was a bit of a disappointment as very few shops and such were open. Actually, the most entertaining thing was watching the customs agent arguing with an elderly German woman about not bringing food from Turkey onto the island. She had prepared a lunch to have there and wasn't about to part with it without a fight. This went on a for about five minutes and finally she got dramatic and went to throw it into the sea, which really pissed the guy off! People are just so entertaining sometimes.

Later that evening back in Kas, Lennart and I walked around and tried to find a place to eat. He wanted to eat at a French restaurant and I wasn't so into it. Again, the joys of traveling with someone. We walked in looked around and went outside to debate it. Lennart gave me this 'its my way or the highway' look and a few minutes afterwards we were sitting inside Chez Evy's.

Dinner was a somber affair for the first half. Lennart was in one of his 'moods' again. I resigned myself to the fact that he was a grumpy old man in a 30 year old's body and decided to quietly drink until I was blind. After an hour, I was inebriated and Lennart, well Lennart was still grumpy. I had had enough, when he went to the bathroom I saw my escape. I went up to a rowdy bunch at the bar and started chatting. Turns out I met Evy herself. She was a tough little French woman, who took a liking to me and the next thing I knew I was sitting with her at the bar drinking whiskey.

At this point Lennart came and joined and we made plans to go to another bar after dinner. There we met Conny, a German woman who had been living in Kas for 8 years- and completely eccentric. Somewhere along the night, the situation with Lennart went from bad to worse. It probably was in direct relation to the ratio of drinks we were having - a lot!The night ended with me being an emotional drunk accusing him of possessing all the bad traits of previous boyfriends. After a couple of tearful outbursts from the both of us, we made up and walked back to the hotel. How could I stay mad at such a cute guy?

In the morning we set off for our next city....

Second Installment ....

Okay...so somewhere in between a couple a bottles of wine, some cognacs, and a few vodka tonics that night Lennart and I ...uh.. became friends.

The next morning we left for Oludeniz which was about a four hour drive from Antalya. On the way there I tried various tactics to try to get to know him a little better with nominal results. Seems like Lennart was not too thrilled about road trips, especially because he wasn't driving..(what is it with guys wanting to be in charge all the time?) For a good part of the trip he sulked in the passenger seat while I imagined different disastrous scenarios of this trip.

We got to the hotel after some really cryptic directions from the manager telling us to ask someone at the bus staion where the hotel was - thanks! Later I found out all future directions in Turkey would come in this same fashion 'turn left where you see a goat tied to a fence, etc...'. The manager came out to greet us, his name was Cengis (pronounced somewhat like Gengis, but he said he was much nicer than his namesake) and he showed us to our suite. We were the only guests at the hotel at that point so we got the nicest room in the place (sans hot water though). The hotel itself was phenomenal - it boasted having the biggest garden in Turkey and it was believable. The restaurant was the best part, it had one of the most amazing views I had ever seen.

During dinner, Lennart seemed to be apologetic about his moodiness on the trip over and I again resumed my optimism that I wouldn't have to leave him on the side of the road somewhere...

More later folks.....

More...

Oludeniz

Here are some pics from Oludeniz, our next stop after Antalya. The first pic shows where we enjoyed our breakfast every morning.