thirty-six: last entry… for now!

This post, in particular, is a little experiment in a lovely little tool called “Windows Live Writer.” Browsing through some blogs today, I came across a few writers commenting on the innovative, accessible design of this Windows tool. Basically, the program syncs with your current blog to open up what is like a Microsoft Word for your blog. Kind of like Outlook is to e-mail.

That tidbit  aside, it is definitely strange to be home. As usual, my sister and I are amazed with our surroundings – from water pressure to quiet streets. As usual, we painfully miss all of our family and think, if we just stayed a month longer… we’d finally get to see Durga Puja, Kolkata style. On the other hand, it’s great to be back with my dad and show him all the pictures of the trip, all the pictures of his family he hasn’t seen in three years. (It’s pretty nice, Smita and I agree, to sleep on a softer mattress and have access to Internet on a more regular basis. Actually, I’m mixed on this one… sometimes it feels good to just ignore the digital world and the responsibilities it involves, like answering emails promptly!)

As the school year approaches with its many responsibilities, I have made the decision to stop posting here until I once again globetrot. I don’t want to get bored of blogging – no need for me to blog the mundane stresses of college life. (I’m thinking of starting another blog.) When will I next write here? Let’s see when I’ll next globetrot. Next summer, I hope.

Until then, with love,
Nina

thirty-five: wrap-up

It is funny how quickly a month can pass by; it only feels like yesterday that we landed in India, let alone Kolkata. Admittedly, in some ways I am eager to return to home and then to college. Both will offer a sense of permanency - something I miss after being in the limbo of travel for two months this summer. (Not that I didn't enjoy it!) Going back to the U.S. also heralds the return to reality and responsibility, of choreographing deadlines for IASA and worries about financial aid. Textbooks and packing and cleaning.

I am looking forward to getting back to exercise and meditation. Without going to the club, it's difficult to walk through the streets of Calcutta uninterrupted, and I much rather walk outside than on a treadmill. Sometimes I felt like I was stagnating in the flat. The smallness of our flat made it difficult to find some "alone" space for meditation. I'm not good enough at stilling my Mind where I can meditate anywhere, with distractions around. Additionally, to see my dad again would be great! He couldn't come with us to India and was missed very much. :( He has taken the week off this week so we'll definitely get to spend time with him!

My attempts to practice Hindi this summer have been an absolute failure - I understand most of it, but speaking still feels beyond me. I'll continue to brush up my grammar and writing before classes begin. I did speak more Bangla, though, promise! Sigh. I will have to try harder and force myself to speak more of everything. Though I really want to do many Chinmaya Mission courses next summer which would be really good for me spiritually and volunteer some of the mission's rural development programs, I also want to study Hindi in a structured immersion atmosphere. It's a bit of a predicament, so let's see how things turn out. Regardless, I will apply for that language scholarship for that particular program... Additionally, to do some side traveling with my uncles next summer would be pretty rad - like, to Sikkim and stuff.

Again, there is so much to say about India and my family. I'll continue to write about it here - sort of a post wrap-up. Or maybe I'll write it in my journal, let's see. But anyway, I know I'm going to miss my family here the most... I am keeping my fingers crossed and hope they will eventually come visit us, some day.

argh, still there is much to say but it's quite late.. goodnight.

thirty-four: Haldiah and Odds/Ends

In the week since my last post, much has happened. Yes, some of the time we relax in the cool and quiet of the flat, but we have been on the go for the rest of the days after lunch. Earlier in the week I ventured with my aunt, mother, and family friend into the chaotic heart of Kolkata: Boro Bazaar. Because of the great deals, it is a wonderful place to get done with shopping, but it is a tumultuous trip requiring patience and street smarts. (Thankfully, my aunt is quite the expert at bargaining and navigating the throngs of people in the streets.) We used multiple forms of transport that day: metro, taxi, hand-pulled rickshaw, car. Boro Bazaar was a visual carnival with its rows of vendors (fruits, hair clips, buckets, bags, anything you could imagine) and the narrow alleys leading to bright colors of sari shops and jewelry. Without the brief respite from the crowded streets - so crowded moving often was difficult - in the A/C market, I may have gone crazy. The long day, punctuated with some yummy dosa for lunch, neared an end with a confusing rickshaw ride through the streets back to our car.... when the rickshaw-walla didn't understand our directions. Culminating the trip was negotiating with the goonda (small time gangster) trying to charge us 20 rupees an hour for parking - a ridiculous sum for parking in that area. Our family friend - might as well be my aunt! - immediately argued back: Sure, I'll pay that rate. First show me the paper where it's written officially? Suddenly the rate fell to 10 rupees an hour. Awesome. Sprawling with exhaustion on the bed back at home, I asked my sister, What did you do today? Why do you look so tired? She sighed, We watched three movies today. I groaned.

We've done many other things: drink delish street chai, learn poker, spend time at Tollygunge with my grandmother, hit up huge malls, spend time with old friends from back in Michigan, but this weekend we've ventured to Haldiah, a town 2.5 hours away from teeming Kolkata when the traffic was good. Today? Today it was not, and we reached my mother's childhood best friend's house in four hours. She and her husband are doctors in this area, and have the fortune of living in a lovely, yet big flat and duplex community. There's a gorgeous lake near the guesthouse-villa we are staying at in this gated community, and it's understandable why people come here to vacation. The drive here was pretty uneventful, and it was nice to just sleep and watch the deep green of rural West Bengal pass by.

Anyway, we are currently playing Egyptian Ratscrew (the only card game we can think of to pass time) and I am also reading Q&A by Vikas Swarup. Q&A, the book which inspired Slumdog Millionaire, puts the movie to shame - the movie, though already with an element of fantasy, seems even more glossed over and illogical once you read the book. The book is well-written and realistic and miles away from the movie in terms of plot. Read the book, now!

Anyway, we should be eating soon.... back to reading!

(And happy birthday Dani if you're reading this! :) )

thirty-three: kolkata

We're finally here: Kolkata in all its hot, humid, sweaty glory. Currently, we have escaped the Ballygunge flat for my aunt's house... a change of scenery. My sister and my cousin Rudhir are involved in an intense pillow fight and Debjani and Chandni, my other two cousins are watching. We are waiting for our cousin Dyuti to get out of the shower to go to lunch.

Being here has been.... interesting. In some ways, I feel a disconnect from my other cousins who always get to talk to each other and are so close and in some I am still so glad to be here. I just wish we actually did stuff, like actually begin shopping, hanging out at places, and so on. But it's so awfully hot right now. Sigh.... I guess Calcutta always has me in mixed feelings.

I've been occasionally practicing my Bengali more, but I feel very self-conscious still and can't always grasp the words I want properly. It's embarrassing. And then my mother always has to tell people I take Hindi at school and expects me to practice speaking that, too! It's a lot of pressure, sometimes, and I do feel a little inadequate. That isn't to say that I haven't been brushing up on hindi. I do have my hindi books to practice exercises and have been consequently racing through some of my lessons from last year... it's nice, even relaxing.

We'll see how this trip goes. I know parts will be very enjoyable, but I am still apprehensive for some reason...

thirty-two -- bangalore and mysore (day 1 cont'd, day 2)

street vendor in Mysore (July 21, 2009)

Since we have decided to relax at home today, I now have the time to briefly describe our last two days in Bangalore. Monday we visited the gorgeous Shiva Mandir and yesterday we visited Mysore. It's nice to play the tourist in India, for once. Too often we're just caught in the middle, shuttled from flat to a relative's house, seeing India but not really seeing it. See our pictures here.

I SEE:

• strings of jasmine flowers in long dark hair
• a Shiva statue twenty times my size, striking against the blue night -- wondrous
• eco-friendly volvo busses (more expensive than a normal bus)
• a profuse number of alcohol advertisements (Kingfisher, Bacardi, Smirnoff)
• silver chudiyan (bangles) on our wrists, purchased from vendors at the Mysore Palace. they jingle and are very pretty.
• cloudy gray skies and cool weather
• in Mysore, humans and horses and cows
• people swarming the Chamundeshwari temple, straining for a glimpse of the heavily-garlanded goddess far in the back
• the Supriya Pig Mutton Hotel (Gablu: Nina didi, they call everything a hotel here! And it's true.)
• auto-rickshaws, Marutis, one Ford, motorbikes
• new buildings and malls and giant billboards
• the shabby prettiness of Vrindavan Gardens, the magnificence of the Mysore Palace

I TASTE:

• egg omelettes and pancakes
• chicken fry and noodles
• "authentic Karnatakan South Indian Thalis... veg, but still good!"
• McChicken and fries
• daal, rice, fried aloo

I FEEL:

• exhausted (poor nights of rest, still jet-lagged?)
• tense (still acclimating)
• awed by devotion (Shiva Mandir and Chamundeshwari Temple)
• overwhelmed (are temples supposed to be so stressful?)
• restless (I want to see the city more!)

thirty-one -- bangalore, baby! (day one)

When the humidity hits you, you know you're in India. Stepping off the plane in Mumbai, the three of us felt so thrilled to be nearing the end of our approximately nineteen hour flight. Only hours later, we finally landed in the vast, sparkling expanse that is the Bangalore airport. Contrary to my previous memories of Indian Customs, the process was smooth and rapid. (Probably because it was about 4:00 AM!) Waiting for us outside was one of our good friends from Michigan, Sandip Kaku ("Sandip Uncle"). His family had moved to Bangalore five years ago and only now we managed the chance to hit up South India.

Yes, this is my first journey into south India... my first journey in India that's not Bombay or Calcutta or about relatives. And really? I like what I see. The weather, for one, was the biggest surprise; cool and breezy like springtime in Michigan. It, of course, was dark when we returned to Uncle's gated subdivision, but the glimpses I saw in the dark painted the picture of the rising metropolis the world talks about. Huge apartment buildings were going up on either side of the roads, juxtaposed against the "old Bangalore," of mom-and-pop shops and a little shabbiness. The hour trip home went by quickly as I attempted to absorb what little I could see outside. Sandip Kaku described the changes he had seen in the last five years and the contrast to the India he grew up with. There's shopping malls, theatres, grocery stores -- everything at your fingertips when you have a car.

"But still a long way to go," he said.

The statement is both encouraging and discouraging at the same time. Must India really recreate the West in order to consider itself "developed"? Will the rise in this massive, massive consumerism lead to the materialism plaguing the West? India is majority Hindu, and a large principle is the detachment to material goods and goals for True happiness. While I am encouraged by the rising standard of living, I am concerned people will now equate money and goods with happiness even more than before... And is this standard of living rising across the board for all income classes? I doubt it.

This community is beautiful. Bangalore, according to our friends, is much greener than many big cities in India. You notice that too -- there's a lot of lushness and big trees here. Lots of pretty flowers. The buildings in this community in particular are just like two-story houses at home, almost reminiscent of the typical California architecture. I am amazed; it's nothing like what I have seen in Calcutta, though I am sure places like this exist there for Indians from abroad. It is really, really nice and a funny sort of culture shock... the shock of how insulated you can be. No, it's not a bad thing at all! Just... different from what I am used to!

Today we will be getting a mobile phone and checking out some spots in the city. Perhaps some shopping? We'll see.

Until then! Peace and love,
Nina

thirty --

Tomorrow, we'll be on a plane to India. The thought is so foreign and far away, yet familiar and soon at the same time. I only wonder how all my many cousins have changed, if we will all still get along, if I will still fall in love with India. I am very excited to see that brief glimpse of Bangalore and Mysore, two places that aren't Bombay and Calcutta. (I realize I haven't explored either of these cities to the fullest -- too young when I last went -- but it will be really wondrous to see a new part of India, sans relatives who may be bored with it all.)

I am excited, exhausted, and full of too many thoughts tonight. That would be what I get for not meditating today...

India, India, India: here I come.

twenty-nine -- what's in Nina's backpack?

some photo of a guy backpacking.

(no, this is not what i will be doing in india.)

I guess I'm blogging like crazy these last few days I know I'll have regular Internet access. It's been three years since I have last been to India and I am still not sure if, a) our relatives have computers they'd share, b) my mother will let me go to an internet cafe. Heaven forbid something happens, right?

Anyway, I'm almost done with packing. Going to Indonesia for a month helped me realize what I did and did not need - and that I could have gone with a smaller suitcase. Thus, my small carry-on suitcase which I am forced to bring carries many gifts for the relatives and my larger suitcase holds the bulk of my clothing. Sigh. That is the problem of traveling to India after a few years: gifts are necessary for all the relatives and my mother likes to get lot of her saris and salwars specially cleaned in India. (And that, my friends, is why the three of us will probably have six to eight suitcases. Sigh, again.)

Still, I love packing my backpack carry-on -- that's what this post is about. Unfortunately, this trip isn't going to be about volunteering or exercising my brain or anything like that... mostly chillaxing and visiting with gazillion family members. (ahhh, I am really excited to see them, though!) Our only strictly touristy exercise will be going to Mysore when we stop in Bangalore. This means I have lots of time to read, walk, reflect, choreo that IASA dance. LOVE IT.

Nina's Backpack
Books (starred are the ones in my backpack, rest in suitcase)

• Right Thinking, Swami Tejomayanandaji, pamphlet*
  
• Discovery of India, Jawaharlal Nehru
• Blindness, Jose Saramago
• Undoing: Returning to Simplicity, Rudite Emir*
  
• Self-Unfoldment, Swami Chinmayanandaji
• The Art of Living, Swami Chinmayanandaji
• Secret of Action, Swami Chinmayanandaji, pamphlet*
  
• Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin*
• The Brain That Changes Itself, Dr. Norman Doidge*
• My Hindi textbook -- to brush up while there and also good practice for this coming year!*

Writing

• Two notebooks (1 for Hindi, 1 for note-taking)
• Journal
• Spare journal (I think I may run out of pages while there, the amount I write)
• Pens, pencils...

Miscellaneous

• toothbrush-paste
• set of clothing
• chocolate, mints, gum, chapstick
  
• neosporin and band-aid magnet set
• hand sanitizer
• large, foldable, batik cloth purse
  
• electronics (iPod, camera, chargers, converter plug)
• earrings, japa-mala
  
• empty water bottle
• knee bandage
• wallet

Yes. All of that fits in my backpack. And not too heavy, either! I'm such an organization freak.

twenty-eight: morning musings

picture of lilies from applewood estates, taken tuesday.

It is almost 10:00 AM and again, I am hungry. Well, that usually seems to be the case when I return from super-long walks. I like super-long walks, for the reason that I get to listen to all 277 (now 268) songs on my iPod. Meaning, I must add a bucket load of new music to my iPod before I leave other wise I shall go insane from listening to the same songs whilst abroad. (Yes, I did just use the word whilst.)

Today was the day of cancellations: Dani couldn't go to the Art Fair and Ryan had to take care of his dad. Or something. Either way, it helped me get up early. I need to be more regular with the little yoga I do... but I enjoy meditation much more. I think I am getting a little better at focusing-slash-clearing my thoughts? I'm not sure. I've been thinking, "There is no I, just One" and that has helped immensely. And then I pretend that all distinctions are blurred, if that makes sense. Trippy, I know, but... okay, I won't blather on meditation, or it will turn out like one of my first posts devoted to my amazing Tevas.

What else? I must continue and finish packing tonight and perhaps clean the random messy corners of my room. The overall feeling is of neatness -- until you look in the corner between my sofa and desk. Yikes and yowza.

My tongue still remains burnt from my pizza jaunt with Dani and the sister last night. I was just so hungry and thus paid the price.

There is nothing else of note to say right now, so I will end this post. Maybe write more later.

Ta.

twenty-seven -- harry potter and vedanta

I will be the first to admit that I was an awkward child growing up. I hit puberty in about fifth grade - it sucked - and was taller and chubbier than everyone else until I was shorter and chubbier than everyone else. This was through middle school; in high school I became a more active dancer, joined marching band, slimmed up. In middle school, I had terrible self-esteem, was painfully self-conscious, and felt like I couldn't make friends in large groups. Sometimes, I feel like those things linger, but we won't dwell on that! Anyway, books were and always will be my solace when times get rough.

The most formative of the books I read in middle school and early high school was, of course, Harry Potter. People have ranted and raved about the series left and right - a money ploy! stupid plot! pagan worship! and thus. Harry Potter, of the many books I've read, was the series I could escape in. Each time I re-read a book, I'd find more and more little details - it was fascinating. Everyone who knows me well realizes I enjoy the movies as well. We each can have our minor quibbles about what the directors left in and left out, but I thoroughly enjoyed Half-Blood Prince last night. It was a fabulous movie, not necessarily 100% at all on the basis of the book. Acting has improved significantly and it was also a pretty funny movie, too! I laughed a majority of the time.

Re-reading HBP, I definitely saw its connection to Vedanta, as geeky as I am. Promptly emailed into the CHYK group... They probably think I'm weird, but.. sigh.

Let me take an example.. page 384,, Apparition class:

• To Apparate, or to basically teleport from one spot to another for those unfamiliar with the series, the students must master Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.
• "Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "Step two, focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"
  
• "Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation, thus."

When I read that again, looking at it differently, it reminded me a little of mumukshutvam, or the "burning desire for liberation," as our acharyas put it. Limitations from what? Limitations from the body, in the case of Harry and his friends, but the limitations on happiness for us.

Chapter Twenty-Six (The Cave), where Harry and Dumbledore go after a Horcrux is also a good illustration of the Guru-shishya relationship and how they support each other. Also Chapter Twenty-Three (Horcruxes) does a great job presenting Voldemort's fear of death (release from the physical form) and Dumbledore's patient explanation on the power of Love.... All very relevent topics, I think! It's pretty awesome what you can see in books and it continues to baffle me why groups ban such books which actually have a great message.

Cool.

There is so much I would like to or could write... but maybe another time.

twenty-six -- grandma

Today marks four years since the death of my grandmother, my dad's mother who lived with us since my childhood. She was a fiercely independent, headstrong lady -- not without her flaws, of course -- whose heart was full of love and cookie jar full of treats for her granddaughters, even after she stopped working. Moreover, Grandma was generous in her prayer and work; bhajans always playing in her bedroom and the sometimes thick smell of incense. Bill Clinton was her favorite politician and her carrot cake was the best. (Okay, and rasgullas too. And sugar cookies. And muffins. And...) When I was very young, she used to transcribe the stories I dictated to her and even wrote my favorite letter of the time - "W" - over and over again when I asked. There were a few years where she returned to India. My sister and I still have her letters - careful script on blue airmail paper addressed to us, still little kids wouldn't quite read.

There were times, especially when I hit my teenage years, where I was rightly frustrated with her when I learned more about her, more about the grandfather I'd never met. In many cases, though, that teenage anger was misplaced and I often regret some of things I said. But like my mom, Grandma would forgive, put away her own hurt, and love us the same. My sister and I would wait eagerly for the nights Mom and Dad went out; that meant we'd get a rare pizza party in the house, with my Grandma around.

Near the end, when we knew she was probably not coming home, she'd always call me her little doctor. I could tell which days she wasn't feeling so good by holding her hand. "Squeeze my hand as tightly as you can, okay?" Sometimes the grasp was strong, other times her hand would fall limp. Before all of that, when she still was in the house, I'd scold her for the chocolate ice cream bar she'd sneak out of the freezer.... especially since she had diabetes. Yeah, one of her biggest hopes for dad was that he should be a doctor -- and he could have, easily, he almost did. Still, I sometimes felt for a while that I had to be doctor, just for grandma. (Sorry, Grandma, I gave that idea up sometime in 11th grade.)

At her funeral, I admit to feeling numb and unaffected, the thought of her death not fully realized. Tears couldn't be summoned, but I was crying on the inside. The service was beautiful and the support from the community, great. It hurt to watch my dad press the button to ignite the cremation. It was a plain warehouse; people didn't usually hold cremation ceremonies there. It didn't feel right.

Grandma had been in and out of the hospital and into the hospice for so long that year that it didn't feel like she wasn't there with us. With regard to her passing, I didn't feel anything for a while. Life moved. But there were times I would acutely feel her absence or acutely feel her presence. Maybe exactly two or three months later, I broke down after marching band rehearsal and started bawling. Couldn't stop. One of my best marching competitions that season, I could feel her watching.

And life moved. It really did. For a while, I felt like our family was fractured, irrevocably changed in subtle ways - I mean, she did live with us since... forever. Laughter didn't come so easily and we were all fighting about little things. Sometimes it feels like Grandma left us just recently, other times I feel as though it may have been ten years ago. Four years have passed since then, I think my parents have finally come to terms.

After all, if you think about it in terms of Hinduism, we're all Happiness, all part of One. She is the same Happiness and I am. So, while I do sometimes miss you a lot, Grandma, I think I've broken that attachment to that body that was you. I still have the memories, and a love for you, my family, and life in general which is a lot more eternal.

twenty-five -- observations

It's funny how surprised we are at the little things, like holding open a door for someone. The couple I opened the door for almost looked shocked. What? A Liberal, Self-Absorbed (or absorbed in the Self, haha, get it?), College Student taking the time to open a door? Wow. It's almost a sad commentary on American society. Imagine how much we can surprise people only if we did something like hold open a door... an act which only takes a few minutes.

As usual, since returning from CHYK camp, I've had plenty of time to reflect on certain things. After all, there is only two weeks remaining until we leave to India... nothing much can be done in terms of a job, so on. But as I may have mentioned before, I'm trying to be diligent about meditation, reading, journaling, and cleaning. And, of course, longlong walks and listening to my iPod. I feel it's easier to unclear the clutter of thoughts that way.

Today, I'm in Ann Arbor and living in the Fishbowl (computer lab) until it's time to go... See, I had an advising appointment and an internship interview. Yeah, the advising appointment was to make sure I'm on track for my basic requirements and to see if yeah, I could really take Indonesian and Hindi both. Turns out I can, and that's a big relief. The interview... well, I think it went well, but I don't want to say anything before they let us know.

I really love this campus... it feels nice and I really do not regret coming here, though I do sometimes regret not applying to some other schools. But, oh well, right? I am content where I am. I hit up one of the contacts for the UM chapter of CHYK... so I hope they are active this coming year, because I'd love to help make this a great discussion group -- a consistent, insightful, and enthusiastic chapter.

anyway, that's all I have to say for now... time to go back to playing ridiculous typing games..!

twenty-four -- poetry: vending machine of dreams

Sometimes I dabble in writing. It has been a while.

 vending machine of dreams, by Nina

the $one-twenty-five scramble.

past old tissues pens a notebook

-- ch-ch-cha-ching change sinks in

rumbling, spitting out a bottle

(an unforgiving, unwanting mother)

an average break

for the average time

for an average person.

(there once was a time...)

twisting the cap open -- !

fizzing froth on fingers

spilling like the ambition of --

spilling like the dreams of --

(there once was a time.)

sticky-sweet syrup; carbonation

slides down smoothly, 

-- suddenly sickens

you throw the bottle away.

twenty-three -- CHYKtastic

On Sunday, I returned from about a week in the Chicago area. No, it wasn't some trip with my friends, full of shopping and art museums, but rather a Chinmaya Yuvakendra (CHYK) retreat at Chinmaya Mission, Badri Campus. It's for 18-30 year olds. Six days of meditation, yoga, and spiritual discourses with Bramachari Prabodhji Chaintanya of San Jose and Acharya Vivekji of Niagara Falls. I realize that the titles sound super confusing when you look at them and evoke a very powerful image, but their power lies in their understanding of the Vedas (the main Hindu religious texts) and their ability to take that knowledge and break it down to us.

Prabodhji, Swami Sharananandaji, Vivekji

I don't remember if I've written this in a blog post or in my journal, but the balance and centeredness I saw in Bali reignited my desire to explore spirituality, to explore Hinduism. Returning home, I went to the graduation at our temple, and really enjoyed listening to Vivekji speak (thereafter, I attended his next few discourses). See, Vivekji is a pretty young guy and knows how to make things relateable 100%. It was he who mentioned the CHYK camp, and the rest, I guess, is history. Prabodhji, our other guru, was equally amazing. He has a formidable voice, adorable quirks, and a very easy smile. I learned so much from our twice-a-day classes and out-of-class discussions with them. Swami Sharananandaji, Badri's resident acharya, however, was the best example of selflessness, humor, and devotion.

Moreover, the knowledge given to me came not just from the acharyas (teachers), but also from my peers. About 40 to 50 recent high school graduates, college students, and grad students. Everyone for the most part wanted to be there and wanted to share that knowledge. It was awesome, learning both in and out of lectures and having a good time. We shared music, danced, chilled...everything.

It was a good reminder of what I've learned and of the things I need to continue remembering.

1. Happiness/Spirit/God/Essence IS everything.
2. Knowledge removes ignorance.
3. The qualities of a spiritual student.

Those were a few main points, out of the many we learned... Our discussion group even did a proof on joy as human nature. Maybe I'll post that up here sometime... Anyway, I thought I'd give an update, you know? Now I'm trying to keep up my mediation, the little yoga I know, walking, and reading books... Yeah. :) Even looking into the Dharmasevak two-week course in Cali, which is more intenstive Vedanta study.

twenty-two -- ahhhh, summer.

Getting through my Indonesia withdrawal, I am now very much enjoying my summer at home. My days have, at least this week, been filled with regular exercise, actually doing things with friends, and plenty vegging at the computer, catching up with my Google Reader, TIME.com, and other news sources. Sometimes, with everything going on in the U.S., I'd rather unplug from the rest of the world, but I can't go back to school without knowing about anything that happened in the States this summer... after all, we are the center of the world.

Regardless, I feel very healthy (well, I'm still working off the pounds I gained in Indo) and happy (well, still working through post-break up emotions, but whatev). In fact, a day or two ago I hit up the public library that I usually go every summer to pick up a stack of books. It's really satisfying to come home with a stack of books. I brought a mixed bag of books, ranging from books on Bali, East of Eden, Satanic Verses, Good in Bed (blatant chic-lit), and so on. I love books and it lets me strain my eyes over paper rather than a computer screen. I'm thinking of checking out a bunch of books before we leave to India..

Few things I need to improve on: drinking water, spending less time at the computer, adjust my sleeping schedule to go to bed a little earlier and wake up earlier, finish cleaning the nuclear wasteland that is my bedroom.

twenty-one -- a good life

Bali - on the cliffs near Tanah Lot temple. I'm center.

The last few days have been, well, good. I've gotten back on my walking regimen and started drinking more water (my downfall in the past!). I'm feeling healthier and less lethargic, though I still have trouble going to bed at a reasonable time now that I am home! The slow process of uploading all my Indonesia pictures continues -- not all of them are up on photobucket but you can check out the few that are, of course. I've compared by experience back to a bad break-up; everything reminds of Indonesia. Flipping through the channels yesterday, I landed on the ridiculous QVC network (you know, the channel that sells random things), and they were having a special on Indonesian silver jewelry. A little old made-up lady in an expensive kebaya and sarong was selling jewelry... which reminded me of the silver shop we visited and where I got my Ganesha ring... and, you know. All sorts of nostalgia.

Nina's "The Great Room Purge" is still in the works -- I've succeeded in weeding out my clothes and two shelves and only have picking up random junk from the floor as my only remaining chore for that task. Then will begin the purge of my school stuff (what notes I need to keep, what notes I can recycle), my desk, and the random drawers/corners of my room. It'll be nice to have that taken care of before we leave to India on the 18th.

It's been three years since we've visited and I'm very excited. Every time I go, I've grown into a different person with a different perspective, meaning the way I see India has changed every time we go. I genuinelly hope my mother will let my sister and me walk into the streets a bit, kind of like we did in Indonesia... but I know Calcutta streets are rougher and tougher.

Yes, the last few days have been very nice, hanging out with my closest friends around bonfires, playing cards, walking, just talking. There's definitely a few people I'd be heart-broken if I lost touch with.

Anyway, we have guests from India coming over today and my room, of course, is the guest room. Time to clean up more!

twenty - reflection I

Now that I am back in the United States, it's both easier and harder to look back at my experience in Indonesia. Easier because I'm not in the moment and it's retrospect; harder because I have a tendency to gloss over the "downs" of the trip. Bali was an island I enjoyed a lot and as a consequence I feel like I over-glorify my experience there. To help me work through what I have learned, I'll be attempting to write a reflection at least every other day. There are other reasons too, and I guess I'll go into that shortly.

There's small things that take getting used to, now that I'm back -- not having to use my right hand all the time, not having to worry about facing the bottom of my foot at someone, not greeting everyone on the street with a "selamat pagi," the cooler temperature, living with my family versus living with a group of students... It's different. I'm not unhappy to be back, per se -- I do love my cereal, milk, water pressure, and my mum's home cooking -- but... I do miss Indonesia. Maybe it is because I didn't really have to face my "real world" responsibilities like... well... anything.

Still, I noticed a certain balance and friendliness there that you don't usually see in America often ('cause most people are perpetually stressed). I remember being really struck when Gusde was telling us about the importance of the mountain and ocean -- the connection of water evaporating, raining on the mountain, and streaming back down. A circle, really. And then, coming home, right in time for some talks at the temple? Awesome. I'll be going to Vivekji's talks at the temple for the next few days. There's so many things I don't know, especially about my religion and fledgling spirituality... that I hope the inspiration (inspiration to be just happy and content where you are, to live a simpler life not cluttered by just stuff), I found in myself in Bali kind of sticks as I continue my traditional summer regimen of walking, reflecting, and eating healthier.

I guess that's the first change I'm noticing in myself: the desire to be a "better person." Not better, but a more self-aware person.

Also, I gave in and dropped my South Asian literary humor class and replaced it with Indonesian... and also added the 1-credit Javanese gamelan class. Geeky, I know. But I don't want to forget my experience!

nineteen -- "so long, fare well, auf wiedershen, good bye!" (or selamat tinggal!)

Our program is finished.

Wow, that short statement has so much finality to it. A month has passed and at 9:30 PM, I leave to the airport. At 1:20 AM, I get on the plane to Seoul. I'm still amazed how time as passed. On one note, it seems like years since I've been in the States. On the other, I feel like this trip has only just begun and I have so much more to learn about the culture of this country and the culture of the islands we've visited, Java and Bali.

Our last few days have been mostly relaxation. Yesterday, we visited Kuta, the gargantuan resort town built around very few cultural attractions. At first, I kind of groaned at all orange, loud-mouthed, big-spending tourists: this was not the kind of last day I wanted, surrounded by people whose only glimpse of Indonesia was the beach and the sales racks of the hundreds of Dolce&Gabbana's and Versace's. Jake, as we all had our last meal together at Sari Organik, pointed this out earlier today, though -- we all did enjoy our day in Kuta, but even more so because we had a month's worth of background experience and memories of Bali and Java. (Really, there was nothing better than giving my feet the tender love and care they needed with a pedicure, after running around barefoot this whole month... And a massage. For $14 USD, together? Ballin'!)

I said this in my last post on the GIEU blog... there's still so much I want to do and so much this trip makes me want to do. Already, I feel that I'll return to Indonesia someday in the future, whether it is for dance, interning with an NGO, learning the language, or checking out the many other Indonesian islands. Again, I'm already planning my next summer -- not with visions of Capitol Hill as I once planned, but visions of another lush culture and country, whether Indonesia, India, or elsewhere.

There isn't a doubt that I'm excited to see my family and friends... to eat home-cooked Indian food and go on walks in the neighborhood (after this trip, I might go barefoot now!). To have orange juice with pulp and to eat cereal for breakfast. It'll be glorious. But I am so sad to leave Bali and to leave our awesome GIEU group. Yeah, there's been the average share of backbiting, but I really think we worked well as a team and as a mini-family, even!

I know I've said this a thousand times: I wish I could see more. Alas, I'm off to home and then to another wonderful country, India, to visit friends and family. Just do it the Balinese way, by living in the moment and always look ahead!

It's time for me to do some last minute shopping and packing, before we bid Avery and Meghan a farewell. :)

With Love from Indonesia for the last time,
Nina

eighteen --

oh, today was very relaxing -- watched a barong dance, saw a cool temple, had lunch near a volcano and a gorgeous lake, and checked out a cacao/spice plantation. (hey, ma -- i got you a surprise spice!) i can't stop smelling my wrist, which currently smells like the plantation's delicate jasmine perfume. i still don't want to leave bali... the days are getting shorter and shorter..

okay, i have no clue what to blog about today... i just had some free time to hit up the internet cafe and read the one or two important emails i totally forgot to check yesterday. i have mosquito bites all over my feet... rachel (my new homestay roomie! yay) and i got rid of two cockroaches today. excellent. yeah...

check out http://gieuindonesia2009.blogspot.com because that's where i'll have something interesting posted.

seventeen - hi, i'm alive

okay, i'm not sure how much time i'm going to have in my last few days in bali... my last few days in indonesia. the internet cafe is a walkable distance, even though we're now in homestays (since wednesday), but i only seem to have free time at night... and walking home at night amongst throngs of barking dogs frightens me a little. we're all having trouble even walking around the block from the Cudamani (they are a gamelan music group that we're close with) compound back to Ketut Liyer's.

i'm mixed about leaving indonesia. there's no doubt that i really miss each and every one of you back at home, but there is something about this island of bali that just makes me want to stay and work for one of the many exciting NGOs here. there is such a rich culture on this island and i've only hit the tip of iceberg in learning about it. hinduism here is so interesting here, and since i'm a half-baked hindu (you know how it is, growin' up in the US), i just want to learn from them, learn more about their specific, interesting rituals and beliefs. already i see the similarities and differences with hinduism in india...

last night, Gusde, our lovely indonesian tour guide, arranged balinese dance lessons for us... it was grueling even for such beginner steps! the two young ladies teaching us were very patient and that was a great experience i will treasure. Gusde played his gamelan instrument for us so we could keep time... (which reminds me, i watched them practice two nights ago and it was magical.) in return, i did ganapati kavutvam sans music, after a year of disuse. :) turns out Cudamani is going to do a gamelan-Bharatnatyam mash-up starting this week with a group from Minneapolis. Interesting. all of the music and art culture here only makes me want to get GOOD -- not half-baked -- at either music or dance. sigh. something to think about when i get back...

yes, i'm living with ketut liyer, the medicine man from eat, pray, love. more like, avery, jill, and i are living in the back of the compound with ketut's familia, which includes a cute lil baby girl named deya... we each have our own room (desk fan, whoo!) and bathroom. unfortunately, my bathroom comes with my pet roach alfred. taking showers is terrifying.

though i have been interacting with the family, it's not as great as my homestay in yogya, where i felt like a part of the family. i feel like i'm in a hotel, and that's not just cause we have nice rooms compared to others. i feel like a customer, more than a family person or guest.. sigh. oh well.

i did have my palm read two days ago, too. he said many of his generic things, but apparently i do have good karma and will be successful. he also said some really interestingly specific things. ask me about it when i get home. it's been a long day (i'm muddy from going to the organic farming NGO today and helping out) and i should really wash up my filthy shoes and feet.

much love from bali--

nina

sixteen -- what is international?

that's a picture of sari organik, the place we ate today. it's in
the middle of a beautiful nowhere... nabbed the picture from a
website, of course. interweb connection still too slow for anything here.

Today, we finally toured Bumi Sehat, the organization I talked about in an earlier (somewhat frustrated) post. Their facilities are really good and the volunteers there are very committed to a gentle birth. A Western couple gave birth to their baby boy there just last night during the island's blackout -- thankfully, there was a generator. You can read more the GIEU blog, where Jenny and Hannah blogged about Bumi Sehat. Afterward, we drove a bit and walked through a gorgeous winding path through rice paddies (like a postcard) to Sari Organik, a gorgeous organic restaurant in the middle of nowhere, really. There is a huge, growing organic movement in Bali and it's very interesting to go to these delicious places. We gorged on just the most satisfying food in the world. I personally had pesto pasta and tropical iced coffee. Mmm. At the restaurant, only the indigeneous and nutrititous red and brown rices were served... we literally had to spend a half-hour lounging in the open-air restaurant to digest all that good food.

Next, we went to observe different arts and crafts specific to Bali - bamboo instruments, weaving, and painting. Rather than participate, I just watched and took pictures. There was so many of us and I just don't think I ever do these things well... Anyway, we got to talking to a father and two kids who were leasing the place of the director of Cudamani, the gamelan/dance group that is sponsoring us here.

The father, who graduated from UC-Santa Barbara, got into coaching high school wrestling and teaching for four years, before deciding to go into International teaching. He's taught in Venezuela, Taiwan, Pakistan, Indonesia, and probably many other places. It's a view into the expat life here in Bali. The International teaching trade is where the money is at -- you're teaching in international schools, in english, to rich(er) kids and other American children abroad. You're provided with a house and sometimes a car with a driver... and it's still cheaper to live abroad than back in the United States. You can buy local handicrafts and sell them for higher prices to specialty stores in the U.S. There's no need to attempt to learn the native language - after all, in an international school, you just need to know English.

I know I'm coming off a little bitter, but it's a little disappointing when people don't take the time to learn a country's language. We just always expect them to know English. International school teaching isn't like WorldTeach or Peace Corps -- going to schools and places that need a certain kind of help, unfortunately. That's probably the one thing that bothered me, though the man and his cute kids (3 and 6) were just delightful to talk to.

... and though I had a motorcycle ride down a mountain in Yogya, I really want to have a motorcycle ride through the narrower, crazy streets of Bali...

Peace, Love.

fifteen -- what isn't said, tells more

cross-posted at the GIEU Indonesia blog --

look, that's me (right) and jill drinkin' some es soda gembira,
or "happy soda," in Bali. it's a picture from the beginning of the trip, but one
of the very few i was able to upload when we had slightly faster internet in yogya.
okay. agustini said we lacked pictures on the blog. there's the picture. :)

Oh, hey there, dedicated blog reader. After a week or so in Yogya and a 25-hour, roach-infested bus ride, Team Indonesia is back in Bali. As much as Yogya had to offer with its city scene, returning to an island where the culture is integral and very visible in the workings of daily life. (It also helps that Bali is much cooler than Java. And Bali is in the high eighties. I'm not even joking.)

We checked out the pesraman of the Pengosekan village today. Basically, it's a once a week, compulsory culture school for fourth, fifth, and sixth graders in the area. The costs are covered by the village fund, and the children are even provided some clothing and snacks. "What's the purpose of this culture school? What do they do, Nina?" Hold on, hold on -- I'm getting there! The pesraman teaches Balinese traditions; things like weaving boxes for rice offerings, learning the Balinese language, practicing yoga, and learning particular arts such as gammelan music and Balinese dance. It's usually held on Saturdays, so that's why we were able to visit and observe those fidgety youngsters at class. (Once again, we donned our sarongs for the occasion.)

The pesraman in this village follow a basic, established curriculum. Pengosekan's pesraman, according to the village leader we spoke with this morning, did not exist until 2005. In all honesty, I was taken back by this fact. Why didn't the Balinese in the Ubud have this before to share the complicated Hindu traditions in Bali with their children? The village leader, the Bendesa Adat Pengosekan, said that they really haven't seen tourism industry pull away older children from traditions as the children find jobs in hotels. "They still can go to the temple by themselves," Agustini translated to us. "A job doesn't mean they have to give up their traditions."

Sure, I'll buy that, but the independent twenty-year-old working in a hotel doesn't have the social structure -- the cranky grandpa, the jovial aunt, the stern mother -- to keep them involved in tradition. Again, I was amazed at how new the pesraman culture program was. It makes me think about how the culture on this island has evolved. In the past, the extended family was enough to teach and maintain traditions; now, they have a school to help share these valuable aspects of the culture. If anything, it illuminates that with the onrush of industrialization and tourism, there has been an impact on the people's ties to their culture in the modern world.

Food for thought. Just mull over that one for a while.

Peace, love --
Nina

fourteen -- back in bali

Ah, yes. I've survived that horrendous roach-infested twenty-four hour ride back to Bali. The seats were comfortable and there was plenty leg space, but that does not make up for this strange crick in my neck that has yet to disappear or erase the nasty bathroom smell from my memory. (We did yell at those who dared to use it.) Really, it's good to be back in Bali. I enjoy the lushness and narrow streets... I enjoy not being perpetually stared at (because there are other tourists here!). All in all, I feel much more at home in Bali. In the next few days, though, I think I'll invest in a massage -- they are fairly reasonable here -- to work out all the kinks I've developed in the last few days... in addition to my pre-existing combination of knots and tension.

The highlight of the morning was calling the family from the next-door internet cafe. It was just really nice to hear your voices, Ma, Baba, and Mishti! It really made me feel more invigorated and cheerful about my stay here. This time, I'm rooming with Meghan. That's the good thing about the room assignments thus far, I think... it helps us know people we wouldn't otherwise.

After showering off the grossness of that 24 hour drive, we went back to Mangga Madu for lunch (mie goreng, es soda gembira). I, along with a few others, walked up a different directino on the street. I mean, I'm going to be here for another two weeks, so I am in no hurry to spend my money, but I did cave in and buy a pretty blue-and-silver pashmina shawl for $8.50 USD. (Yes, yes, I did bargain it down.) Afterward, I snacked on the peanut butter cookies Mom had made for me and read a little bit. Currently I'm reading two books relating to India: Freedom at Midnight and The White Tiger. I love the first one -- it's super intense -- but I'm not far enough into the second one to make up my mind.

Soon we'll be going to dinner... and I really don't know our schedule for the rest of the week. Oh well! more updates soon!

thirteen -- struggling

After returning to my homestay after we met with the Regent of Bantul, I finally made progress with winning my Indonesian man for the trip: Abil, the baby in our homestay. It was awesome. I crashed in bed around six, sleeping through dinner with the family and waking up thoroughly miserable. The desk fan keeps me cool, but doesn't pump enough air to my whole body. Consequence? Waking up sweaty and bugbitten. All I wanted to do was take a shower at that point, but the Ibu roped me into dinner. Though I did have the most delicious papaya I have ever eaten, I could muster enough energy to eat much food.

It's at the point of the trip where I feel like crap and am struggling. I just want to be home in my own bedroom (still messy from moving all my stuff back), relaxing by myself, walking and exercising every day before doing anything else. It's little stupid things I miss, like having cereal for breakfast and real orange juice with pulp. As much as Indonesian dishes have some similarity to Indian food, I miss Ma's luchi and cholar daal, or just daal in general. (I miss her amazing pastas and sandwiches too.)

I think I really need to find a landline from which I can use my calling card so I can at least briefly call home. Strangely enough, though I didn't go home often this last semester, I was in touch with someone at least every other day about something. Maybe white water rafting tomorrow will be enough to keep my mind off of these things. I'm in Indonesia, after all, and should be living in the moment here, and not lett my sudden tiredness bother me.

Anyway, I'll go back to watching Jhalak Dikhalaja -- Prabhu Deva is a judge on Saturday's episode and he is one genius dancer.

A little sadly, Nina.

twelve -- sensory overload

Again, so much happened today, but I don't have time to talk about it all.. A few miscellaneous things...

CHECK OUT my pictures from Friday, at the King's Cemetery and the beach! Indian Ocean, whoo!

Nina's Meals Today (since I talk about it so much anyway..)

• Breakfast: the potol vegetables, rice, cup of Good Day chococcino, the spicy red fried soy bean bits
• Snack at the mountain village: Taro, cassava, fried sweet potato, corn, hot tea, boiled banana, peanuts. It was a huge spread and absolutely gracious on the part of the villagers. See, the reservoirs for the Rotary project was in the mountains. We thought the brakes would die!
  
• Lunch: at a place similar to where Agustini and Heri went to their first big dinner together -- you could catch your dinner! I had mie goreng ayam (literally, noodle fried chicken) and es kopi susu jahe (ice coffee milk ginger). We had said lunch very later, around 3:30. Noted events? Avery and Stephen went to the live music band and sang "Killing Me Softly" and the Titanic song. Classic! We later went on a wooden raft in the small pond.
• Dinner: was delicious. We had soto, which is soup. In this soup was lettuce, chicken, crispy stuff, sprouts, chili sauce, lime. Wonderful. The soup was accompanied by fried patwan (corn) patty -- I think I got the translation right! The Ibu had a very awesome orange for me. Oranges here are strange - they have a green peel! Anyway, all four of us (Ibu, Sonny, Aida, and I) ate together. We chatted about what cafes (clubs) I would go to tonight with the group, motorcycles, Starbucks, and driving exams in the U.S. Not quite sure if they understood everything I said, but...

Nina's Bahasa Indonesia Grab Bag

• patwan (silent t?): corn
• Saya suka ini!: I like this!
• sangat (ng nasal) maniis: very sweet
• be mana: where
  
• chappai?: tired?

Time for me to go! I have to do something with my hair and maybe so make-up before I go out... We have our host family's permission, as well as Agustini's, to take the cars to check out the Yogya nightlife. No worries, we are getting rides home!

eleven -- bonding! (with my ibu!)

There's a lot I can talk about but I really don't have a lot of time. I've been watching Jhalak Dikhlaja (Dancing With the Stars) really slowly over the last two hours on the connection in the internet cafe. (Which, by the way, is really amazing and I can't wait to watch the finale when I get home. Because of Baichung Bhutia, I just may have to start watching football....) Computers here don't seem to like photos or videos, yikes. And it doesn't help that I'm only used to doing fifty things at once on the computer.

This evening was amazing.

Amazing in that I really talked (in broken English and Indonesian) to my Ibu. (Ibu is like "Mrs."). I told her about what we are doing tomorrow, what I purchased at the Batik store today. I asked her how she was, where Sonny and Aida went (to the mosque?), if Abi was sleeping. We ate dinner together and it was a delicious spread. First, there was some vegetable thing that looked strangely like potol which I had with rice -- Ma, this doesn't mean I'll eat potol at home! There was this delicious mie goreng (fried rice) with some chicken in it, but I'm not sure what part of the chicken I was eating... Regardless, it was delicious with the hot sauce. As usual, there was tempeh (a soybean patty that I don't have a taste for yet). Most surprisingly I ate fish-fish. Meaning something that wasn't salmon. Ibu couldn't remember the English name, but in bahasa Indonesia it is call pitang (or pintang?). It was... surprisingly delicious and not too many bones.

The Ibu taught me how to eat dinner Indonesian style; this was much harder than I thought. You hold the fork in the left hand and spoon in the right. Once in place, you use your fork to scoop whatever food into your spoon and then eat it. I tried it, and of course took too many noodles... thus looking absolutely ridiculous. Ibu was very amused at my attempts. After dinner, she offered starfruit, but I didn't know how to peel it. Even more amused now, she peeled it for me and taught me how to eat because I had never tried it before -- only Mishti ate starfruit at home. It was sour-sweet, which was very interesting. Anyway, it was just really good to be communicating.

few notes:

• tried serabi Solo, a sweet dish of this rice powder-milk-chocolate combination on a thin, sweet dosa-thin pastry. Delicious. (Wow, I only seem to talk about food here. SO GOOD.)
• We might hit the Indonesian night scene tomorrow night! A few more host parents have agree to let the students go out "so late." (Things end early here.)
• Ma + Mishti --> I bought three pretty Batik fabrics here. Once I get back, we can each pick one out and have kurtis or salwar tops made when we could to India. (I didn't want to buy you guys something that wouldn't fit or you wouldn't like.)
• Dad --> You're still very difficult to shop for, but I have an idea or two!

Gotta run home! Love.

ten -- a whirlwind, a whirlwind

I never thought I would say this, but I am absolutely freezing right now. It's Yogyakarta, usually in the high eighties, and I am freezing in a slick internet cafe. This has to be the most chic, cheap internet cafe I have ever been in (.40 USD an hour? This is cheaper than the crappy computer in Bali). I have my own cubicle with a leather chair. I think there is a webcam too, but I'm not sure how to turn it on... otherwise I'd be sending people videos right now. The internet cafe is literally a minute away from my homestay.

Oh, right! I moved into a homestay yesterday from the group hotel we have been sharing since last Friday. It's with a very grandma-like woman and her son, daughter-in-law, and baby grandson. Initially, I was feeling very dour and depressed about my homestay last night. It wasn't that I didn't like Ba'Ulung (I think that I got the spelling, maybe....?) -- she is an ever-smiling sweet lady. Unfortunately her English is broken and there is a language barrier. I pretty much ran out of conversation in forty minutes (apparently I lasted the longest compared to the rest of the gang) and retreated to my room for the hour and a half to sleep fitfully and worry about how I'd get through the next week. After dinner, however, I met Sonny and Aida -- the Ibu's son and daughter-in-law. Both speak little English, but more than the Ibu. I found them to be so sweet and very earnest to talk and make sure I am comfortable. Sonny has some sort of injury or disability in his leg, it seems, but he is full of smiles. (Today, I signed their guestbook. Homestays are an additional source of income for the family, like with most of the other homestays people are with.) Anyway, though feeling a only a little more relieved, I retreated to my room again to read a chapter of Freedom at Midnight.

Freedom at Midnight is a book about the process and drama leading to India's division into India and Pakistan. It reads like a novel, though it's been heavily researched. I can't read too much of the book at once because it's just really intense reading. Reading has been a bright side of this trip... I usually don't get to read a lot until the summer and now I am on my fourth book of the summer. (White Tiger by Arvind Adiga is next on my list.. I hope to borrow it from Hannah.)

My room is pretty spartan, but comfortable. They have their almirah, a large writing desk, desk lamp, twin bed, clothes drying rack, and desk fan to keep me cool. I am pretty content, especially since there is a western toilet. (Not that I can't handle squatting -- going to the bathroom is much less stressful with a regular toilet.) In the morning, I woke up around six, but since they said breakfast was at seven, I lingered in my room for a half hour only to find everyone already up and ready to eat. I felt kind of terrible for holding them back, especially since I was in my pjs and hadn't brushed my teeth yet. I'm going to get up earlier tomorrow.

They have me sit at the head of the table which in itself makes me uncomfortable. Then there is a full set of silverware -- do I even know how to use them all? We have fried chicken, vegetables, rice, and tempeh. Everything for some reason is very salty. Thank god for the instant choccocino coffee (delicious) to balance it. I was even more reluctant to eat both breakfast and dinner with the family. I also noticed that they gave me the best piece of chicken with the most meat... such niceness makes me uncomfortable and like a burden. Seeing Aida putting on her hijab before going to work affirmed my belief that they were Muslim (I didn't know they were practicing). She is a very pretty and petite young mother who works in a junior high school. Sonny works in some sort of security and says he enjoys his job. :)

Afterward, I sat on the bench in their front garden, watching the school children run past for gym class. I wrote in my journal and enjoyed the pleasant weather associated with 8:00 in the morning. Abi, the baby, woke up and was playing with the servant and the sweeping lady. It took him a while to get used to me, but I think he likes me? I haven't held him yet. Maybe tomorrow. He has the biggest eyes in the world and just loves to talk in his baby babble. (Funny story. He isn't in a diaper, so at one point he just peed on the carpet. It was a little amusing since he had the most innocent, unaware look on his face. "Oh, pee, whatever.") I think that child is the saving grace to my experience because I've been looking at all of the family's baby albums and such. SO CUTE.

Today we went to Imogiri, the king's cemetary. There were about a thousand steps to the top. I got a little ill on the way up... and sat down with Ashley and Mas Bambang, our princely guide in the Solo compound. Let me explain. Mas (like "Mr.") Bambang is from the Kingdom of Solo an hour away. His grandfather had 42 wives and sixty-some children. (Explains why that throne is so contested, right?) Anyway, Mas Bambang is pretty much royalty but you couldn't tell. He loves to laugh, is mischeivous, and takes very good care of us. Tomorrow we're going to Solo to check out the palace there and look at some more Batik stuff. On one side of this place, there was a courtyard specifically for his family -- his family was buried there. You only can go up to the graves if you wear Javanese dress (there was a dressing room and such... royal guards were sitting around too!). It was a beautiful view from the stairs.

Then we went to the best part of the day - the beach! The beach was completely empty when we reached there. The surrounding village seemed like a deserted beachtown too, but there were lots of little kids running around. The sand was all right but the waves were gorgeous... the cliffs were beautiful too and you could see the rice paddy terraces. We weren't supposed to swim in the water, but we dipped into the Indian Ocean (or a part of it?). I didn't have my suit with me and just went in clothes in. Meaning, I had a long shirt, and took of my capris and went in. Bad idea, because a group of icky Indonesian men gathered to watch all of us in the water. Wonderful... And Ma Agustini was on the shore fretting that we'd drown. Again, bad idea, since nothing more miserable than driving home wet and sandy. But the water was so gorgeous and the weather too... It was just so expansive and one with everything. Carolyn put it well: we seemed to be at the end of the earth.

Dinner made me feel better about my homestay for sure. They took care of my laundry and got some of the terrible stain on my pants from my shoulder bag's dye out... sweet. After washing out the black sand, I ate with them. Again sitting at the head of the table and with many utensils. The food was delicious. We had amazing green bean-chili-collard greens/spinach(?) vegetables, rice, peanut crackers, small fried baby fish, and the best noodles ever. The noodles had some small cooked bird egg. Really delicious, but it seemed like a delicacy. After dinner, they showed me Abi's albums, had me signed the guest book, and insured that I will be back to the house by 10. (I have an early morning tomorrow... We leave at 7:30/8.)

Just some random thoughts and reflections? I hate language barriers. It reminds me when I was in India with Nani and Mishti and I being unable to understand or reply to her. (Which, in turn, made me want to avoid her so I wouldn't feel embarrassed or like a terrible granddaughter.) Here, I initally felt the lot of the same, but it really isn't so bad. We had a good conversation over dinner. It's just that so much more could have been said if I understood and could speak bahasa Indonesia.

Also, I'm having trouble with my right contact, even after they rechecked the power before I left. Did I put a wrong one in...? Either way, things are blurry and I won't be able to tell if things are genuinely blurry until I get back home. At Ma's suggestion I took my last pair of my old set of contacts... and that's really all I have left after this set, yikes! I've been wearing my contacts every day too..

What else? Nothing much else. It's been raining occasionally and cooling off the city. (Agustini and Charley before we left: Oh! You don't need an umbrella or anything! .... So much for that!)

Maybe I'll come back here in a few days to attempt to upload some pictures. Right, I'll be writing some emails!

Peace, love, and stay in touch!

nine -- music

A few housekeeping things. I'm sorry not to have written much about our stay in Yogyakarta -- it's been a combination of blogging and journalling for me thus far, and lately I have been journalling. Our group has finally started our blog... This blog is the project we will present once the school year begins and it chronicles our impressions of the day. Do read it! It'll give you an idea about what we're learning and share different perspectives from other students. 

In addition, I have uploaded a few of my pictures on photobucket. The internet connections can't handle all 500+ pictures I have taken thus far... So what's on photobucket is an assortment of pictures from Bali and some from Java (but not all my pictures from Bali or Java, sigh). I'll try to add more as I find time.

Okay. Today was really all about music, even though we returned to Yayasan Gaia, the street children education scholarship NGO and to the Ombudsmen office for interviews. In the morning, our very helpful guide Mas Bambang (spelling?) who is actually royalty from the nearby area of Solo, taught us some Javanese gammelan to the whole group. It was a very basic pattern he taught but it was a lot of fun to play the cool percussion instruments we always watch being played. (Actually, there's a gammelan group playing outside the hotel right now and I can hear it from the room I'm typing. It's kind of soothing, which is surprising with all those xylophone-like percussion instruments.)

Then, as we returned to the hotel later in the afternoon, we saw a bunch of people with cello cases mingling outside. My friend Ashley inquired what time they'd be playing/practicing... We ate dinner, had discussion, and could faintly hear the string players.  Of course, we had to investigate. We turned the corner to the other side of the hotel compound and went up the stairs. There was an awesome space up there with this full string orchestra playing Indonesian-composed music. It conjured up black and white films. Really, it was so beautiful in how they were in so much control of dynamic. Everyone seemed to play with feeling and it was really amazing.  They seemed pretty happy to see us there! We just sat up there and watched. 

At that point, we met a lady name Maria, who explained they were practicing for an event that would be at the hotel on Friday -- she encouraged us to attend and join the party afterwards. (We bothered Agustini a little bit and she agreed to let us come here and check it out.) At one point, when they were on break, we met two of them - Balung and Ari (I think?). Agustini later told me that Ari sent his regards to me which was kind of funny. Sorry, Ari! I have someone at home! Haha. Anyway, just being near such great, soulful music was really nice. We culminated the day with a nice swim, though now I feel dry and itchy.

Tomorrow we are visiting a Rotary project that involves farming methods and microfinance. Pretty exciting! Peace, love...!

eight -- a little review

It's difficult, getting used to the heat. It wraps around you and suffocates you slowly. This morning, visiting Borobudur (Buddhist temple) and Prambhanan (Hindu temple), we were drowning in our own sweat. The perpetual transfer from the freezing car to the baking outside, I'm getting some headaches and congestion. It's all worth the experience though; Borobudur had a gorgeous view of the mountains and Prambhanan was just visually astounding, even though it was near the epicenter of the 2006 earthquake.

We ended our second tour earlier than the schedule, so we were able to go back to the hotel and rinse of the sweat of the day. The hotel is lovely and, well, pretty close to paradise. GIEU has taken over the entire hotel! We have little guesthouses with gorgeous dark furniture, air conditioning, white bedding, and beautiful outdoor showers. The pool is beautiful too; the pool overlooks the surrounding rice paddies. Overall, very zen, very gorgeous.

Tonight we are going to see the Ramayana ballet in front of th Prmbhanan temple. I'm very excited because, you know, it's one of my favorite stories. I just love it and I'm excited for the Indonesian production of this story. My camera is charging right now, so I hope I can take some pictures.... (It died earlier right between Borobudur and the mini-Buddhist temple called Mendut with the giant Buddhas.)

One of the most striking experiences was yesterday, just wandering the street with Jill, Ashley, Hannah, and Stephen. We didn't stick to the main road in Tembi, instead turning into a lovely tiny Muslim village. All the inhabitants would come up to their house gates and just look at us. When we'd smile and greet them with "selamat sore!" they immediately open up and wave. We also saw a Muslim graveyard; it was interesting. We also ran into an Australian guy from Jakarta who told us how this area was one of the hardest hit from the earthquake and were still rebuilding. All in all, seeing this small, open community was great. (Also, a lady called out "anda dari mana!?" and I recognized what she said and replied, "America!" Am proud of myself!)

There is so much more I can say, but I have to go eat dinner now! Love.

seven -- you like barack, but what are you CHANGING?

a view from the room in Bali

Okay. Wow. Last post was a book. See, it's so hard for me to write this fast in my journal, so I do prefer typing, will not lie. This is going to be a delayed post; I have go to dinner shortly and won't be able to finish before I leave. And I do have to come back to finish my internship application, ahhh! (Or maybe it isn't meant to be? I've discovered that in Bali, so many coincidences can occur in such a short time, things have to be fated.)

Many things happened today: finally learning about what we are doing here (important, right?), talking to a lady from a maternal health clinic NGO, eating more good food, and trooping to the Monkey Forest. I really want to focus on the first two things, since Jill in her blog really covers some of the interesting animal experiences of the day -- so I recommend you read that highly entertaining post. Basically, the monkeys in the park are not afraid of big groups and will take you on. Oh, they will.

one hour and a half later--

Ah, we went to the same place we had lunch today for dinn: Mangga Madu (Mango Honey). It was yummy, surprise surprise! Agustini and Bat Danu (got the spelling!) are really trying to take us to authentic places. I had Tuna kala something something for lunch and Mie Goreng (delish fried noodles) for dinner. Ordering the tuna for me was a big step since fish usually makes me nauseous. And really, as someone in the group put it, GIEU is all about experience overload punctuated by good food. No joke.

GIEU, for people who want to know why I am here, is called the Global Intercultural Experiences for Undergraduates. Every year, it has about 14 field sites in different countries to expose students to a new culture and bring that awareness back to campus. GIEU is a paid volunteer-internship which helps offset the cost of the trip and is plain awesome. Each field site is led by a prof and student fellow (someone who went before) and there is a sort theme to the site. We're going compile our experiences and interviews (the format of our own trip) into a blog. I think we'll start it once we go to Yogyakarta on the island of Java. We leave for Yogya tomorrow morning, reach in the afternoon, and spend our next two weeks there. I'm excited; our whole gang of 15-16 will take up the whole hotel.. and there is a swimming pool. GIEU takeover!

Ebu Jane (I think that was her name?), a fundraising director from the Bumi Sehat maternal health clinic, came to talk with us and arrange an opportunit once we return to Bali. They really emphasize breast-feeding and waiting to cut the umbilical cord (to allow blood flow). It subscribes to something called gentle birth. Bumi Sehat was started by Robin Lym, a midwife from the US who, upon coming to Bali, ended up having her child not in the hospital because there was really no one around to help her deliver. Having survived without losing much blood (a main cause of death for Balinese women delivering), Robin started being called to rurual areas to help deliver babies. It was transformed into this non-governmental, non-profit organization that gets funding from different Rotaries, Direct Relief, and other foreign donors.

EJ (to shorten it for typing) said that they have seen a correlation between nutrition and this mother mortality rate. In the 70's new generation rice (genetically modified stuff, apparently) was introduced and took off as a main export over the more nutritious indigeneous Balinese rice. This rice isn't very nutritious at all but is unfortunately very cheap and easy to get. Also, lot of Asians like that polished (white) rice over the red and brown rices. Bumi Sehat encourages diets of red rice (local stuff!), breast-feeding, red rice milk over the formula milk, and other stuff. They are staffed by a few doctors and many midwifes.

Interesting Things!

• According to EJ, corruption rampant in hospitals. Doctors mostly subscribe to the clamp and cut route and at the nudging of formula companies, order these poor families to put their baby on formula... which makes the baby sick (especially from China!) and go back to the doctor. Way to keep making money! Also, C-sections make more money soooo... natural births are kinda discouraged.
• They have had some luck with few select doctors with trying gentle births (i.e. water births, natural births, let the umbilical cord fall after 2-3 days). Well, they've had more success with doc's letting Bumi Sehat come in and discourage formula and encourage a healthy diet
• Can't pay the hospital or midwife? Can't leave hospital or you can't have your baby in some cases!
  
• Lotus birth: umbili. cord falls away naturally - the placenta is like kept in a bucket of water. EJ said this fits well in the Balinese culture where the placenta is buried outiside the front door as buryin your four spirit brothers (I think). Also, that's how you get birthday cake! Celebrating your placenta every year!
• Cool Indonesian Law: Companies must have breast feeding stations. Breast feeding is for sure allowed for six months and a bit into the future. Awesome. There is no resistance to breast feeding here. Wonder if the fact mostly women work adds to this...
• Bad Indonesian Law: Nat'l healthcare/poverty program for the poor nixed.

notable quotable: When people as me about poverty and the issue of maternal health, I say that the health of the woman affects the livelihood of the family, of the extended family, of the province, of the island, of the country.

Not going to lie, I went crazy with questions. I asked if there are efforts to change the curriculum for doctors - I mean, if you start the change bottom-up, especially if these are impressionable students, the doctors they turn into will also be better. And isn't that the main problem? Hospitals have doctors with the inappropriate mindset. Start re-educating them. I don't think she understood what I meant... saying, "Oh, changing national protocols is too difficult and not all students want to into OB/GYN as their specialty." Sigh.

They really admire Barack here - I mean, he did live in Indonesia in his childhood. The like the ideas of change... EJ even commented on that. On the same note, she said advocacy is not the way to attack the issue. Now that I don't understand. I know you have be careful in how you criticize the hospital system, but I don't understand how working with the system will change the system. Changing a few doctors at time isn't the solution. But then again, I'm just an overly impassioned college student writing about this...

Another question not properly answered. If you want people eat red rice, shouldn't the export ban be lifted? People abroad love the stuff. Right now it doesn't seem like there is an incentive to grow the rice (AKA MONEY), regardless of the fact people aren't fond of the taste here. And because not many people grow it, it's expensive even though it is nutritious. Anyway... that's my few thoughts on that.

When we return to Bali, we are going to Bumi Sehat to help with an english lesson for the staff and then check out some of the birthing and allopathic programs. Also, EJ really enlightened me to the connection between agriculture, the organic movement, and maternal health. She suggested an organic farm to visit so we are going to do that too! (Agustini has given Guste a homework list of stuff to take care of by the time we get back.)

Later in the day, our whole group went to the Monkey Forest, where there tons and bunches of Balinese macaques everywhere. NOT JOKING. Really. And as I mentioned earlier, they aren't afraid of humans. Even though we were in a huge group... After the monkey nearly jumped Stephen for the banana and Jill's spider-water bottle was taken, we were seriously on edge. Because Jill's blog post covers this part of the trip well, I'll just say it was cute to see this little dog in the woods literally play with a monkey. Also, the baby monkeys with their mommies was pretty dang adorable. We did look very touristy snapping pictures at monkeys as a whole mob. Too funny.

Anyway, I must finish this internship application and pack for Yogya. Peace out and much love.

Nina's Indonesian Vocab Grab Bag

• nasi: rice
• mie: noodles
• ayam: chicken
• kare: curry
• goreng: fried
• selamat detang: welcome (as in 'welcome to bali!')
• nama anda siapa?: what is your name?

six -- blame it on the sa-sa-sa-sarong

Some of you may be familiar with the song "Blame it on the A-A-A-Alcohol." Clever Jill (our student fellow and my roommate) came up with this clever ditty that is the post's title as we, the sweaty and tired GIEU students, stumbled in our sarongs back to the temple. More on that soon. Right now, it's May 14, in the early evening, but this update is about yesterday. I rather not overwhelm you all with one intensely long post. (Look how considerate I am.)

Unfortunately, this computer is stripped of its USB port soooo -- no pictures for now. But I promise they'll be up, on flickr/snapfish/something and facebook. No worries.

By yesterday morning, most of the gang had touched down in Denpasar, Bali with only four more left to come in. There was a little problem -- though everyone landed on the 13th, it was at like 12 AM. Agustini had booked their rooms for the 13th but check-in, of course, was at 9 AM. So we managed to get two more rooms and two girls went to Badanu's gorgeous guest house a few minutes away for the night. I literally slept like a rock. See, the weather isn't that bad because things cool down a bit at night and with the fan, things are comfortable. Anyway, we got up, checked out the other's rooms and meandered the streets. A small group of us walked all the way to the nearby Monkey Forest, but we had to return because we had to again pick people up from the airport. We now have Badanu's van that holds 6-7 people and what reminds me of a party bus, which holds 11, driver included.

Meaghan and Avery (and their 3-4 pieces of baggage, teehee) came in around noon, I'd say. We all trooped to a diner somewhere in Denpasar that specialized in East Javanese food. We ordered Ayam Pechak , which is fried chicken with this spicy sauce, and some fish and vegetables. I'm a little averse to fish, so I had the chicken. Chickens here aren't as plump as American chickens (Say in a Dubya accent, "I'm American, I like my chickens big!"). Regardless, it was yum -- tasted like fried smelt almost? My favorite part however was Soda Gembira, or Happy Soda!!!

Happy Soda, recommended by Agustini, is a combination of flavored syrup, milk, and soda water. You have to mix it when you get it and it looks like this pink fizzy mix when done so. Jill and I shared it and it was fabulous.... (we were initially skeptical of the combination)

Back to the airport... again. (for Jill and I, the fourth time!) This time for Betsy and Hannah. Betsy landed fine, but Hannah came out 1.5 hours after she landed. In that time, we were all freaking out, thinking she was lost, her luggage stolen, kidnapped... haha. But it was just long lines that held her back. We immediately shipped off to the very nice sarong store.

At Guste's suggestion (our thirty-year-old, gammelan-playing, absolutely sweet guide), Agustini negotiated a 50% discount on the sarongs (which can be worn like skirts or dresses). See, Badanu and Guste were taking us to their temple's anniversary ceremony (celebrated every six months) and to enter, we needed to wear proper attire. I purchased a purple sarong with white and teal flowers (which thankfully match a shirt I own) and a matching teal scarf to tie it. My was sewn at the ends so I can't do anything creative with it.. That's okay, I love the design. The boys also had to get a special scarf to tie around their heads.

We stopped briefly at the guest house -- all sweaty and tired from standing in the airport for hours -- and changed, then driving off to the temple.* It was separated in two compounds. In the first compound, everyone was sitting and praying, while waiting for the priest to arrive. When the priest arrived, they would move to the other compound. One of the ridiculous antiquated Hindu rules here is that women on their periods can't enter the temple. Kellie, so sweet and awesome, was just honest enough to admit it and had to stay back. I felt terrible for her. I think it sucks that such rules still exist... It's not impure, but a natural part of a woman's life for goodness sake!

*funny/weird side story: Jill had fried chicken in a box on the table near the open window in the room... When Karen and I went there, the fried chicken was outside of the box. So strange!

(Oh, note: J and I are coming up with euphemisms for swear words since that's frowned upon... Mother of Pearl! and Oh Snap! are ones we have thought of thus far. haha.)

Anyway, the rest of us trouped into the temple compound. Everyone, dressed in their sarongs, sat on their knees in rows to receive the holy water and rice, administered by two young girls. It reminds me our own pujas at home, but it was interesting to see how Hindu rituals differ here. I went to end of the line to get some holy water and the ladies there were really understanding and helped me out. You get the water three-four times, sip it and put the rest on your head. Then you take rice from the pan, put it in the water and put the few pieces of rice on the middle of your forehead. Sitting there was a little awkward because there was no on there to explain what was going on to us.. Agustini isn't Hindu and familiar with all the Balinese traditions.

From there we went to the other compound to watch the musicians from the Cudamani Group play gammelan music (all religious ceremonies require that, Guste said. He started learning from age 10). Guste was on this sit-down xylophone looking instruments hit with hammers and Badanu played a flute. It's literally this massive band of JUST MEN. (the only woman on stage was Susan, an exchange student to Cudamani who is studying gammelan. She just chilled and smoked with the rest of the musicians.) Anyway, live gammelan sound SO MUCH BETTER than CD recordings. All the instruments are shiny and gold and it was gorg. Anyway, I'll show the pictures when I can upload them!

We just kind of waited around for a while. The priest was taking his lovely time in coming and people were just getting exhausted (mind you, they were just getting used to the time change). We decided to eat some dinner and then split off. This time, we hit up this hole in the wall roadside place with small tables and plastic stools. It smelled divine though, and it was. Simple but delicious. I had Nasi Goreng which means fried rice. Interestingly, it also had a little meat in it... well, the interesting part is that pretty much everything here has meat in it. Even the vegetables people had. In the supermarket today we noticed chicken-flavored chips. Vegetarians, beware of Bali!

I, and a few others, stayed at the temple since the ceremony had started while we ate. It was in the compound where the gammelan had played. A Balinese act was going on and the actor had this really elaborate outfit. (Couldn't understand, though. Balinese is its own language and Agustini doesn't understand that well...) With Badanu's gracious help we saw the meditating high priest who was totaly decked out. After meditation, the main portion of the ceremony would begin. Again, we tired quickly (long day!) and soon left. As we were leaving, we stopped to watch Cudamani Group's Balinese dancing going on in the outside pavilion, accompanied by gammelan. It was great. They wear such amazing silks, elaborate hairdos, and dance with such emphatic shoulder movements and wide wide eyes. Again, my pictures will be uploaded eventually..

Came back to the guesthouse (The Ganesha Guesthouse!) and promptly fell asleep. I felt really sticky though... maybe I should start off the Balinese way and shower 2-3 times a day!

Peace, love, and check out the next post!