Slice of Life: Christmas Day Chai

Kerala, India

Slice of Life: Yellow & Plaid

Kerala, India

Don't Forget To Breathe

I've now taken up residence at the Sivananda Yoga and Meditation Ashram in south India. It's essentially Hippie Bootcamp. We wake up to a bell at 5:30AM for our daily satsang of meditation and chanting. 

I'm starting to get used to this Pavlov dog routine: bell - wake, bell - chant, bell - eat, bell - yoga, bell - meditate. The silent meditation is a challenge but I feel like I'm getting more adept each day. At least for five seconds at a time. Om it, sistah, om shanti. 

Slice of Life: Arrivals Gate

Trivandrum, India

Quote: There is a Thread ...

I commenced my two+ weeks at the yoga ashram. I keep thinking of this quote:

"There is a thread from the heart to the lips where the secret of life is woven. Words tear the thread but in the silence the secrets speak."

- RUMI

Slice of Life: The Queen's Necklace

Mumbai, India

CHAPTER 3:

INDIA.

Asante Sana (Goodbye Africa!)

One last sunset across the Serengeti and then I will leave this magnificent land. Thank you, Africa, for lifting up your skirt to the knee - just enough to reveal a small glimpse of your immense beauty. I had no idea stars could look like that.

Thank you for the sincerest smiles I've ever seen. For showing me how utterly raw this planet still is. For teaching me how to dodge hippos, wash my clothes in rain water and make fresh coconut milk. But most of all, thank you for letting me share some love and kindness with your beautiful children.

Asante sana.

Slice of Life: Free Fall

Stonestown, Zanzibar

Baptism By Heartstrings

No need for an alarm clock, I wake up to the mosque’s call to prayer “Allah, Hayalahhh” followed by dogs howling, followed by a rooster crowing. It’s 5:00AM - Welcome to Arusha, Tanzania.

Arusha is gritty and defiant and she doesn’t give a damn if you catch her picking her nose. That’s right, sister. The town pulses with a sort of primal sass. And no matter how much you try to act like a local, you cannot and will not fit in, regardless of color. I hear 'Jambo Muzungu' alot, which basically means 'Hey Whitey'. I sense annoyance of my presence at times. I get marriage proposals. The kids like to touch my hair.

I live in a house with two other volunteers. There are cement walls around the compound, two guards, a cook and a driver. In many ways it's fantastic but it feels strange to live this way, there are people living in tiny one-room homes just meters away. I carry a large packet of guilt in my pocket.

My volunteer placement is at a preschool with kids. Some are HIV positive, some not but all are angels/demons. One second they are running to you, arms outstretched, in search of a hug. And the next they are biting each other. The school is a room in a tiny home made of concrete. I teach in my bare feet. It's humbling. My favorite time is when they take their porridge break, the cups look so big in their little hands.

A few afternoons a week I volunteer at Cradle of Love, an orphanage for babies. For two hours you can play and care for up to 35 orphaned babies. And have your heart broken and filled, broken and filled over and over again. The warmth that these tiny souls give - it burns a happy little hole into your heart.

So, yes, a part of me thought that I'd make a difference. And maybe I did for an afternoon for one child for one moment. But I did learn that we should give a little something back - in someway, anyway. Volunteer for a day, donate to a cause, sponsor a kid, smile at a stranger. Pull at someone else's heartstrings and yours will be pulled back.

Quote: Often I Feel ...

Often I feel I go to some distant region of the world to be reminded of who I really am. There is no mystery about why this should be so. Stripped of your ordinary surroundings, your friends, your daily routines, your refrigerator full of your food, your closet full of your clothes -- with all this taken away, you are forced into direct experience. Such direct experience inevitably makes you aware of who it is that is having the experience. That's not always comfortable, but it is always invigorating.

- MICHAEL CRICHTON, TRAVELS

Slice of Life: Tally Me Banana

Arusha, Tanzania

African Queen

Now THIS is Africa. I’m off the overland tour and volunteering with children at a preschool in Arusha. The woman, Anna, that operates the school is HIV positive, has six children of her own and two adopted kids. Her husband and sister died of AIDS. She is strong and spirited - a real African queen.

The school is essentially a tiny concrete room in her home. It's warm and cold at the same time - we teach in our bare feet. I am out of my element as "Teacher Nico", it's a whole new world to be in front of 12 sets of big brown eyes reciting the alphabet. It's challenging and exhausting and invigorating all at the same time. I have a whole new respect for real teachers.

I'm eager to see how this time unfolds and hope I can give even just a little bit back.

Slice of Life: Elephant Crossing

Botswana, Africa

Heart of Darkness

I've only lived in Tanzania for two weeks but here are some imprints of the beautiful people and norms here.

Jambo Muzungu! - This is what I hear 30 times per day. It basically means Hey Whitey! and is often times accompanied with a giggle.

Dala Dala - The local transportation system. Essentially a large van, room for 12 yet accommodates 22. But feels like 42. I've twice had live chickens under my feet. Stepping out of it is like being birthed from the womb.

Pig Noise - Many people, especially women, made a grunting slash pig sound to clear their throats. It's a bit startling but mostly funny.

Chipati - Similar to a savory pancake. There is something so satisfyingly primal about eating with your hands.

Dancing - Just. Amazing. Witnessing some of the moves in the local bars is like watching a professional dance show. I had no idea a booty could shake vertically like that.

PDA - You will never see a male/female couple holding hands but you will see male friends walking hand in hand or arm in arm. It's cute.

It's raw here and it's like watching life in the third person at times.

Slice of Life: Three Girls

Malawi, Africa

Baptism by Pula

They say Africa gets under your skin. I'm still figuring out if that's bad like a splinter or good like a perfume. I think it's a bit of both. Africa is raw. It’s huge and heavy and real. It reminds you that you're human. It strips away the comforts and leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed. But it makes you feel stronger because of this.

I've slept in a tent, back against the red earth, for 18 of the past 21 nights. I've been a rider on an overland tour that's taken me from Johannesburg, South Africa to Arusha, Tanzania. There are 14 others, mainly British and I'm the solo American. I hear “Yay Obama” a lot. In Buenos Aires I would go to bed at 5am but now I greet the sun from the other side. Tent packed and fed by 6am - I have twice eaten cereal under the stars. The drives are long and the showers cold, we are dirty and smelly and bruised. But we are smiling. I've been kissed with freckles by the sun.

A hippo visited our campsite the first night. He casually chomped on grass for two hours while we watched in fear and awe. This is not a zoo, there are no fences or guards, you are part of the food chain. One day we had to stop in the middle of the highway to let an elephant cross the road. An elephant. This land is wild.

In Botswana the currency is called pula - rain and the coins are called thembe - raindrops. Rain is a precious as money. I've had my fair share of it these days, setting up tents while soaked to the skin – wet and muddy but laughing.

Africa is intense and each day reveals something new. The wild animals remind you that you're fragile. The smiles remind you of what you have. And the night stars remind you that you're not alone.

Slice of Life: Mirror

Botswana, Africa

Hungry Hungry Hippos

Our first night of camping in Africa ... had a visitor.

TIA: This Is Africa

I once had a farm in Africa. Okay, no. But I've always wanted to say that.

No matter what it is – the rain, a late bus, a canceled tour, an upset stomach, increased prices – the excuse is the same: This Is Africa. It’s like a communal and continental acceptance.

I’ve only had a small slice of Africa’s pie but this is what I’ve noticed so far.

South Africa: is sprinkled with purple trees called jacarandas. So big and bright the flowers litter the street like confetti. They belong in a Dr. Suess book.

Botswana: the currency is called pula - rain and the coins are called thembe -raindrops. Because rain is as precious as money. Raindrops in your pockets.

Zambia: the people here seem to smile from their soul, it shines right through their eyes and burns a happy hole into your heart.

Malawi: is humbling, many people live in small homes made of wood and mud. Kids walk around barefoot. Their eyes are deep and dark and poetic.

Tanzania: has it’s own sky. It’s where the gods try out new colors, new sunsets and new constellations. The heavens feel a bit closer here.

Africa is a beast of a continent but it’s a beautiful one.