Lost in Time

One of the peaks in traveling is that time doesn't signify a thing for me anymore.

My memories of the past had been messed up by my constant attempts to be culturally appropriate in my appearance, my behavior and my remarks along with thousands of moments so crazy that I'm still working on understanding them properly.

A scene of me running with a 28-pound backpack on my back to grasp a friend's hand as he pulled me onto the moving train.

A scene of an Indian man screaming, "You scum! You go out of India! No respect for us Indians!" and pushing me after I rejected his request to be photographed with me. 

A scene of an old lady furiously gesturing and grabbing my breast just before I moved away to allow the crowd fall off of the train along with her. 

A scene of me happily drinking Kingfisher and jesting away in a bizarre mix of American Sign Language, Indian Sign Language and International Sign with friends. 

A scene of Violet and me giggling as our laughing yoga instructor sticking out his tongue and screaming at the top of his lungs at a tiny park in Mumbai.

So many scenes. So many memories. They all happened so fast, so deeply, and so naturally that I am still inhaling them in and exhaling their influences out. 

The future also holds no meaning for me. Violet and I are literally surviving from a day to the other day, focusing on understanding what is right in the front of us. 

Even when we are trying to plan tomorrow, events often lead us to change our plans.

In Ahmedadad, I was supposed to stay one more night with my good friend's family. However, hours later, I found myself instead panting as I held my friend's hand as we watched the station disappearing into the darkness of the night. 

After visiting the Ajanta Caves, Violet and I were supposed to take a bus to a friend's house in Pune. Fate instead took us back on the train to Mumbai for one more day, forcing us to prepare for the total of three long nights in a row sleeping on the train.

In Palomem, we had every intention to start the day with yoga, to continue the day with kayaking and drinking feni and to end the day with train tickets in our hands for the next day's new destination.

Once again, life surprised us.

After our yoga lesson, the yoga master asked us to come in for tea with him. Our conversation during teatime had been so inspirational that Violet and I found ourselves becoming his informal students at the Aranya Yoga Ashram, committing to the project personally designed by Baba, our master. We are to practice reiki, mudra, meditation, and yoga for the next four or five days.

Nearly two weeks in India. So many moments yet to fully comprehend. So many emotions to sort through. So many thoughts to marvel at. The past is crumbling behind me and the future is forever eluding me while I am constantly finding myself understanding only what is before my eyes at this very moment. 

Yet I do know one thing: when it comes to traveling, you never stop learning how to live. 

Or as Baba told us during teatime, "Learning is the friend of a traveller."

India and I

[Note: Yo, an American here writing this post and more posts after this. My observations are solely mine and aren't intended to describe India accurately as I am aware that my American upbringing may have shaped my perspective of the world and is likely to reflect my ignorance more than my knowledge. Corrections necessary to help me adjust my perspective are welcomed. Thanks!]

India.

The name of this country has probably evoked an image, a sensation, something  in you.

India used to evoke in me the sense of colorfulness, a wild assortment of spicy, hot, and spirited colors everywhere. 

Now that I am here, India is India. 

There is no place like India in the world, yet India is profoundly familiar in a way. 

Perhaps India is familiar in a way that it displays every single color, every single emotion, every single smell, every single incident, every single everything that defines the entire humankind. 

It might explain why India provokes such strong feelings in many who visited India. After all, who don't have strong opinions about the humankind? 

In my case, it's been only a few days and already I am amazed by the way India seems to reinforce my intention to see the world without knowing the future. 

I arrived in Mumbai feeling like a crazy little lady, being so distorted by seeming time wrap. If I am to calucate my lifetime based on the American time, I left the United States on Monday and landed in India on Tuesday. If you are to ask Indians, I was leaving on Tuesday and arrived on Wednesday. If you ask me directly, I left my homeland on Monday and came here on Wednesday. 

So, it's been three days for me while it's only two days for everyone else. 

Clearly, time is an illusion. 

Or I am just this crazy little lady whose mind had been messed around by jetlag. 

Nevertheless, the entire Deaf men's soccer team had decided to whisk me away to Gujarat as soon as my feet touched upon the soil of India. As it turned out, Mumbai wasn't going to be my first city to visit in India. 

Instead, the team put me on one train after other train for over 10 hours while giving me a crash course in everything Indian: Indian Sign Language, Indian cuisine, Indian way of riding the train, and especially Indian culture.

Finally arriving in Gujarat feeling absolutely filthy, insanely distorted, and yet exhilarated to have finally made it through my first day in India, I know India will give me two very interesting months and I have literally no idea what these months has in its store awaiting for me.

In meanwhile, here are the pictures!

                    

 Some of the soccer team hanging out 

These blue uniforms, that's the soccer team who took me on their adventures.

This man loves curd just as much as I do!

That is It

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." - T.E. Lawrence

Look at me. 

That is it, the day I have been waiting for has come at last. 

One-way ticket with no official return date. India will be my temporary home for the next two months. From there, I will find home somewhere else. I will not know where I am going, but I know I will keep on going somehow. Maybe I will return within weeks. Maybe I will wait a long time before coming home. Maybe I will never return. 

Look at me, rushing towards my lifelong dream of wandering around the world without no future to contemplate, no past to carry, and nothing to nail me down. 

I want you to look at me, to really look at me. And to remember that I am not putting myself on a plane bound for Mumbai just to prove you that I am good at something. I will fail at something while I am traveling. I will offend someone on the road. I will make mistakes that will thrust unwanted consequences upon me. 

I am not on the plane to prove you that I am brave, that I am worldly, or that I am succeeding at achieving my dream. 

The truth is, I am actually testing out my dream. To see if this dream is exactly what I have been dreaming of. To find out that what I am searching for is what I wish to discover. To explore my fears. 

A few years ago, while working on eliciting gems from my annus horribilis, I made a promise to myself: I will confront my fears, no matter how utterly terrified I am of examining the darkest and probably the most pathetic part of myself. 

I am determined to understand myself, to embrace myself, and to love myself wholeheartedly without reserve. 

I am terrified of failing at something I have been wanting to do. 

So I am confronting this fear. 

I am terrified of living a life without knowing future plans.

So I am confronting this fear. 

I am terrified of leaving all my comforts behind.  

So I am confronting this fear. 

I am terrified of being forgotten. 

So I am confronting this fear. 

More fears will come up while I am traveling, and I am determined to confront each of these fears when time comes for me to greet them--and to befriend them. I intend to be compassionate toward my fears and to be gentle toward myself as I transform this dream into a reality and allow this reality to uncover many secrets within me. 

No, I am not brave. 

It actually took all my willpower to push myself out of the United States with an one-way ticket in my hand. I reminded myself every single day that I must fulfill the promise I made to myself years ago. I cursed myself for managing to find a lucid moment that allowed me to smile upon my fears and to purchase this dreaded one-way ticket. At the same time, I am proud of myself for stepping over my fear to give myself the gift of living out my dream. 

I am confronting my fear. I am seeing how brave I am. And to forgive myself when I am not brave. 

No, I am not worldly. 

I liked to imagine the world as a place I have never seen before in my life and must meet once again. I liked to meet people different from me and to discover our similarities. In a way, I am still a child far too curious for my own good. However, I did not necessarily welcome the world into my little world. Now I am challenging myself to see how far I can travel and how capable I can be in situations utterly foreign to my little world. I am demanding myself to be stripped naked so I can confront myself bare naked, out of my little world. I am choosing to welcome the world to undo me. 

I am confronting my fear. I am seeing how worldly I am. And to forgive myself when I am not worldly. 

No, I am not succeeding at achieving my dream. 

Failure is my pain. I cannot bear the idea of flunking even a measly quiz. My face turned pepper red whenever someone discussed about how lame I was for not being successful at a thing. I defined myself based on my successes rather than on my failures. I insisted on using my failures as cautionary tales rather than let "Ah, shit happens" stands as it is. Now I am working on accepting my failures. I am insisting on perceiving my failures as inverse successes, as stories as good as my successes. I am pushing myself to allow myself to fail shamelessly in front of the world. 

I am confronting my fear. I am seeing how successful I am at achieving my dream. And to forgive myself when I fail. 

Yes, this journey is personal to me. I am inviting you to look at me. I am inviting you to allow me to share my fears, my dreams, my failures, and my successes. I am inviting you to respect the life I am attempting to create and to forgive me when I find myself living a different kind of life. 

That is it. 

I am excited, scared, hopeful, determined, anxious, and ready for this dream to happen. 

I am starting to witness the unfolding of my dream and to find out where this dream will take me. 

Wish me luck!