Jai Ho!

Wow, it has been a bit since my last blog entry. My excuse is valid though....without going into too much grotesque detail, I just finished a four-day stint without eating much but a few small bags of potato chips. You can guess why....good times!!!
So, here's the latest: we spent three nights-oops, make that four nights, in Sarnath, the place where Buddha gave his first sermon. It is a sleepy little town just 10km north of Varanasi, and a welcome oasis for Matt and I. The town is, of course, a major pilgrimage site for the world's Buddhists. As a result, we were lucky enough to visit temples from many different countries: China, Thailand, Myanmar, Indian, (duh!), Tibetan, and a Jain temple thrown in, just for fun!
We went to the site where the Buddha was said to have delivered his sermon, and we saw ruins of a temple where he meditated. There were Buddhist monks and monasteries everywhere, and an overall peaceful vibe.
For part of our stay we holed up in "The Golden Buddha Hotel", where I started my fun journey of traveller's illness...and watched the Oscars. Perfect timing for being sick! yes!
Hence, the title of this blog: Jai Ho! As any of you who watched the Oscars know, "Slumdog Millionaire" was the star movie this year, winning eight Oscars. The song, "Jai Ho", won the Best Song Oscar. The man who won that Oscar and the man who won another music Oscar were hailed as heroes in India. The news was all over the TV- literally every channel it seemed had a story about it, and of course it was on the cover of the paper the next day. Indians are very, very proud of "Slumdog Millionaire"- as they should be! My mom and I had a chance to see it before I left- it is an excellent film. If you haven't seen it already, go check it out!
The man who won the "Best Song" Oscar gave a beautiful acceptance speech, and in it he said: "I was given a choice between love and hate, and I chose love". In many of his interviews on Indian television, he reiterated this point. Perhaps this seems cliche at first glance, but the declaration struck me as being particularly poignant for India.
Which brings me to my "confession": it has been very difficult to always choose love while here. At times, it has seemed impossible to choose love, actually. As Matt admits, he went down in flames weeks ago. (this is unusual: trust me, I am usually always the one to go down in flames first!) I have been trying my hardest to keep a positive attitude, and at times it is easy, and again, at other times- seemingly impossible. I have been trying to figure out how to put all of this into words- and I just can't yet. I haven't figured it all out, and probably won't, until I get some distance. So for now, I will tell you about when I "cracked": (don't read this if you are going to eat soon)
It was on the train. I, um- have some difficulty with the trains. The cramped quarters, the roaches, the snoring and spitting men, and the inevitable lack of sleep all adds up to a magic mixture that gives me a very, very bad attitude. I hate that! SO, this last train ride I was convinced I was going to do everything in my power to stay positive. I heard an amazing Indian train story from a friend and decided to use it as my inspiration on the 20 hour train we just took from Varanasi to Hardiwar.
When we first boarded, things were looking good. The train seemed cleaner than most, and I didn't spot any roaches- very good signs. Plus, we had an upper bunk reserved - and since I was just at the start of my "sickness"- I was able to climb up there and just crash out for a bit. I thought maybe everything was going to be OK- maybe I conquered this train attitude problem! Yes!
And then, a little ways into my nap... I heard it. I thought at first it couldn't be possible, but, of course, it was. I sat up and saw the results. There was a woman in the next cubby over vomiting all over the floor. And over again. And, again.
Now, in most places, this would be a temporary set back, right? Well, not in India. Unfortunately, cleaning materials aren't always available on the trains. So, it just sat there. We all just sat there, for a while- a long while. Finally, a person came with a newspaper and, um, covered it up. The paper became a sort of carpet for a while, and people just walked right over it, as if nothing had happened. Later- about an hour? two hours? later- a man came on the train at a stop and picked up the newspaper, threw some water down, swept it up with a broom made of sticks, and that was that. The vomit was gone, sure, but still it wasn't so great on the 'ol nose without a disinfectant of some sort. I tired, I realy tried to laugh it off. I put some lotion on my face, offered it to my neighbors- you know, as a way to distract myself from the smell....but really? I was seriously grossed out. Oh- did I mention it was ALL OVER the bathroom, too? That never did get cleaned in any way whatsoever. Luckily there were other bathrooms to choose from. yikes!
OK, by now you must think I am a TOTAL snob. Truly, though- it is just a cumulative effect of all the special smells and visions of India. There are simply times when love is very difficult to choose.
OK, I've had it with myself. Thanks for listening. Enough of the negative stuff. I just had to tell you that moment when I cracked, when I really had a hard time with the whole choosing love thing. But already, in the last few days, India, (or more accurately, my experience of it), has redeemed itself. I am feeling better physically (that probably didn't help things on the train!), and we are staying at an ashram for the next four days. Matt and I are going to bend our bodies in some yoga poses and screw our heads back on straight before moving on to Nepal.
Thanks, again...I promise to try really hard not to go to the dark side again. Or to be this long-winded! :)
We are in Rishikesh now, the place where the Beatles stayed in an ashram and wrote much of the White Album. I'll have to go back and listen to that one again when we get back. Maybe it'll make more sense.
Jai Ho!