In India, travelers are often heard saying “only in India.” The saying sprouts forth when expectations are completely trashed, trampled, and transcended. At a pageant on a holy day, a spinning wheel of fireworks got loose and rolled through the group of children performers and into the crowd. The show went on without hesitation. No one seemed to be hurt. “Only in India,” I murmured. In the USA, or “America” as the Indians like to call it, the show would have stopped, injuries would have been rampant, and lawsuits would abound. Days before the pageant, I had witnessed a father with his baby on a four foot wide stone wall about 20 feet off the ground. The baby freely crawled around, apparently safely. Somehow the babies are more sensible there, I guess. In America, the baby would fall and the father would be charged with endangering the welfare of a child. In a Himalayan village in India, the main steps from the bus stop into the village were lined with barbed wire. Steps were missing and uneven. That didn't stop the elderly and infirm at all. In America, there would be public outcry, victimized elders, and a host of handicapped access violations.We simply live in different cultural realities, having no idea how much our cultural ideologies shape our apparent realities.
Utter amazement has nothing to do with right or wrong, cultural superiority or inferiority.... it's just a natural by-product of having one's cultural based perceptions of reality dashed to the winds and sent into hyperspace to come out in some bizarre universe you never imagined existed. I suspect Indian visitors to America find themselves saying “only in America” when they become flabbergasted by flagrant reality checks.
The phrase “only in India” drifts into “in India, anything is possible” which has it's origin in the idea that money can buy most anything. With enough rupees, better yet dollars, anything is possible. I like to twist the statement into sarcastic wit when I am dumfounded.
Today, I had the opposite experience... that of “only in America”. And I have to say I hate to use the word America to mean the USA because it's as if we are the only country in North America, or North and South America, which to many citizens of the US, who are blinded by manifest destiny, may seem to be reality. Having traveled and gained some perspective on the matter, I feel otherwise. The USA is just one little part of the world. Traveling, I try to say USA or United States when I am questioned about my country of origin. That is usually the second question taught in English class in India, if my usual conversations with Indians are any indication. It falls between “what is your good name?” and “first time, India?” which is then followed by “are you married?” and “why not?”. I often find that if I say, “I'm from the United States.”, the inquisitor says “what? .... oh... you mean America.” And so I slip back into saying “I'm from America” so I can avoid one more step in a painful conversation based on little connection beyond 5 sentences in English. When I say “America”, invariably some European or Israeli traveler overhears and glares at me with serious shade, and then I have to explain myself.
So, anyways, today in San Francisco, America, I mean US, I ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant, and feeling not quite sated since lunch was also my breakfast, my thoughts wandered to the local Indian boutique slash ice cream stand, Bombay, which sets on Valencia at 16th street. The other day, I passed by and noticed they sold chai, in addition to exotic flavors of ice cream, like fig flavored. I'm not much of a tea drinker, but a chai for sentimental reasons appealed to me. Then I remember the lassi, an Indian smoothie made of yogurt and often fruit. That sounded better than chai... something with calories and nutrition to help make up for no breakfast. I strolled down the street feeling like I was once again a traveler, freely walking about the world. I sauntered into the ice cream shop, a simple affair with a counter, and sparse cheap metal tables and chairs. I studied the menu on the wall. “Chaat” caught my eye along with “puri”, both Indian snacks. But I focused on the Lassi offerings and found mango, sweet, or salt as the options. Mango cost twice as much as the others, so I thought a plain salt or sweet lassi would do. You can find the same options in chai, sweet or salt. I decided to try the salt lassi, since sugar is not a big draw for me. The young man behind the counter politely took my order with mannerisms that took me back to India. I watched him put a stout tablespoon of white powder into the mix. That seemed like a lot of salt, if that's what it was. But since he was of Indian descent, I figured he knew how to make a dish of his own country. I took the plastic cup and straw and sat down to enjoy my taste of the subcontinent. I sucked through the straw to find the most amazing flavor of salt and sour milk. I tried again. It was still awful. I laughed as it reminded me of culinary surprises in India. I resolved to just drink it. I took another sip, thinking I would probably get used to the saltiness. It still tasted just as bad. I considered just walking away with it and throwing it out, thinking maybe it wasn't really that bad, but just wasn't adapting to my unique tastes. I took another sip. My stomach began to feel queasy. There was no doubt that I could not simply drink it. And I decided that this was beyond tastes, it truly was bad. And the clerk needed to know so he wouldn't be making the same mistake over and over.
I got up and returned to the counter and said, “I think this has way too much salt in it.” The young man apologized and said he'd make me another. He didn't even try to taste the rotten one. This time I caught him as he was spooning in the salt, and said “no, not that much... little little..” holding my thumb and first finger together. He only put part of a spoonful in... more than I might have... but the lassi came out ok.
I drank it down, and wandered out on the street. The more I thought the more I laughed. Only in America would an Indian guy not know how to make a lassi. In India, they might not know how to make pizza, but they know their own cuisine. This boy probably grew up here and never made a salt lassi before. “Only in America” I laughed. “Only in America, anything is possible!”
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
We Took to the Streets of San Francisco
One of the big fallouts of the recent elections was the passing of a California proposition outlawing equal rights for gay couples. Today marked at least the third major public demonstration decrying the outrage of over Prop 8.
If you've never taken part in a political action or demonstration, you might be surprised at the beauty of such an event. Though I don't watch much news and don't get bogged down in mass media descriptions of "reality", preferring to deal and interpret my own first hand experience, I understand that oft times media portrays demonstrations as dangerous unruly events. In fact, I remember several years ago mentioning to a woman that I was going to attend a peace rally, and she remarked, "Isn't that dangerous? I've seen on the news how dangerous it is?" I laughed and replied that no, in my experience such events were largely peaceful, community building events. How could peace mongers really be dangerous? war mongers, yes... but peace mongers? I've always felt safe, at least from the crowd. The crowd is a community that crosses lines of race, age, gender, and orientation. Sure there are sometimes a few participants that lean towards violence. Naturally, I wouldn't lean towards marching with such groups or individuals, which are usually few and far between. The only thing that has ever intimidated me at such demonstrations is the law enforcement agents who sometimes line the street with guns. News likes to sensationalize and I guess people prefer watching drama rather than the constants of peace and joy.
The stigma of protests amuses me because our country was founded on Civil Disobediance when our forefathers staged the Boston Tea Party and started the "American Revolution." I'm sure if the British had our modern day rhetoric, we'd have been deemed terrorists. Likely the Native American Tribes would have put a similar label on us. At any rate it amuses me when our country which espouses free speech and personal freedom tends to look down when such things are put into practice. Dissenting opinion and forum is the mark of democracy. Unification, and squelching free speech begets dictatorships and fascism. The sensationalization of the dangers of the protests amuses me because my experiences at such events has never felt dangerous.
My experience in political demonstrations goes back to quite a number of San Francisco events, mainly the peace rallies and pro-bicycle rallies of the last seven years. My own semantics and view is that I do not march in any "anti-anything" marches, but rather "pro-something" marches. To me being anti anything only begets judgement, violence, and hate. This very morning a friend, another gay man, said he wasn't interested in doing a protest at City Hall today as he felt like we'd be preaching to the already converted here in San Francisco. He'd rather do some protests at some of the Churches that have chosen to spend money in judgment, rather than live unconditional love. I have little interest, myself, in doing a protest at a Church. I'm a live and let live kind of guy. I honor a Church's political right to exercise it's free speech.
When I march I prefer to be a living example of what I march for. Usually, I dance along the streets, singing, chanting, and doing some energywork. I remember one of my first experiences at a public demonstration was in an "anti-violence" march in Brooklyn ten years ago that protested murderous hate crimes that had taken place there. The magic of the Radical Faerie contingent that I marched with greatly impressed me. Our "troupe" drummed, chanted, danced, and paraded huge puppets. Our energy was directed to being our joyful selves and sharing our performance along the streets. That struck me as much more powerful political action than being angry and screaming.
Today, in San Francisco, tears welled up in my eyes as I appreciated our amazing country and it's gifts in the world. Not that we are better than others; rather each country has it's own gifts and beauty to share with the world. And, yet, I fully appreciate the individual freedom we have here. I've seen a bit of the world, and the overall freedom to be ourselves here, is something I don't see in other countries. The flip side is that our community and family structure have deteriorated while we learn how to create family and community more unconditionally, rather than based on blood relations and strict social custom.
I wandered into our city's center in front of City Hall. My eyes roamed the crowd. Children, families, grandparents, gays, bisexuals, lesbians, transgendered people all greeted my eyes. A "Victory Garden" adorned the ground in front of City Hall. Some group brought in soil and created a collage of beautiful garden beds over the pavement. Spirals of corn and sunflowers, along with circles of kale, created a visual delight that smelled of the good earth. The produce from the garden goes to the local Food Bank.
I drifted away from the ranting on the podium towards an adult tricycle which blasted out dance tunes from a portable sound system. A straight guy had brought it. He danced with his girl friend. A small group of bystanders clicked up their heels and danced to the grooves. I joined in. I always love dancing in the outdoors. A slightly overweight, bearded guy in his early fifties grooved under a sunhat and glasses. His energy combined with his myth busting look... he was no disco twink boy... drew smiles from the immediate crowd. A rolly polly black guy twirled a baton with the music. Being a living example of love spoke louder than words about "family values".
Shortly, I heard the beat of a drum cadence and saw movement along Polk Street that indicated a march was starting. I drifted away from the dance towards the beating drums, the magic of their beat beckoning me to join in. I walked quickly along the sidewalk passing the multitudes in the street and caught up with the drum corp as the march entered Market Street... the heart and thoroughfare of the city. As we stepped into Market Street, tears welled in my eyes, appreciating the community, the freedom, and how far our country has evolved from the idea of civil liberty for all, to the embodiment of it. Not that we are entirely there, but we've come a long way. I cried for all the places I've been over the years that haven't been so supportive of who I am as a modern day fag. I cried for all the people who face unspeakable judgments and terrorist actions for being or trying to BE who they are. The march took over the opposing lane of traffic so that we were marching a living example of GLBT Pride, which struck me as being perhaps more powerful than the annual corporate pride event... because this one was grassroots, spontaneous, and based on the hearts of many individuals sacrificing their time and efforts.... and based upon people standing up and doing something for what they believe in.
I reflected as I marched on how the real political action is our day to day lives. Where we spend our money. How we commune with our neighbors. In the broader scope, our country's political action is how it lives in the world. Are we democratic in the world? Are we peaceful in the world? Our actions speak larger than our lip service. I remembered years ago reading a Wendell Berry account of Harlan and Anna Hubbard, who lived a simple life for years, according to their beliefs. They eeked out a life on land along the Ohio River, with a garden and small heard of goats. They lived without electricity. Across the river a nuclear power plant was due to be built. Wendell wondered a bit about why Harlan and Anna weren't attending the protests. Then he realized they were living their protest. They weren't supporting the nuclear power plant one iota with their off-grid lifestyle. There was no need for them to travel miles by car to wield signs with slogans. Myself, I think there can be a place for both kinds of action, though I feel the real heart is in our day to day lives.
And today as I marched I realized the real political action was taking place across the San Francisco Bay, where a household of Radical Faeries.... queers... have taken in a dying member of our tribe. A youthful, mid-aged man, who is succumbing to cancer, his hip disintegrated by cancerous cells. A circle of friends has gathered from all over to support this household in their task, and to show their love for this man. I visited yesterday to lend my Reiki hands to the hospice. I walked into the dying man's room to find him surrounded by a half dozen friends, acquaintances, caregivers, love-givers. Some held their hands up channeling loving energy while others used feathers and shamanic traditions to help the man in his journey to the other world. Over the course of the afternoon, twenty to thirty people came through. There were about eight people from Portland and Seattle, devoting days to supporting both the man and his caregivers. Other than the man's niece, these were all friends and acquaintances, rather than blood relatives.
One of the main caregivers practically defies description based on American norms. A woman, with green hair, large facial piercings, a tattooed mustache and beard facilitates the hospice care. She's done this work for years. She negotiates with the hospitals and the medical speak. Somehow she cuts through the crap and deals with the medical bureaucracy. The funding is grassroots based on donations.
Only a week ago, the local community held a memorial service for John Burnside, one of our most influential gay elders in the Radical Faerie subculture. Together with his partner of forty some years, Harry Hay, he inspired a lot of growth and evolution in creating heart based, "subject-subject", queer, grassroots culture that celebrates the uniqueness of each individual, rather than status quo and clone culture. For nine years a circle of care givers supported John and Harry in their elder years, providing medical liason, elder housing, company, and community. They also held fundraisers. One of the things that struck me most from John's service was the story of his macular degeneration that quickly reduced his eyesight to a peripheral kaleidoscope. When asked how he felt about the condition, John replied, "Oh what a grand adventure it is! to see the world in a new way."
The legacy of Harry and John includes that we have found the power to come together and form circles of care for our sick and dying that stems from outside corporate insurance, and beyond blood lines. With our migratory habits and breakdown of traditional community structure, the impact of our potential create family and community wherever we are, is a grand political statement.
That we have come so far that a proposition such as Prop 8 was nearly divided in yays and nays, truly speaks how far we have come in the years since the Stone Wall Riots. That a green haired woman with facial piercings and tattoos can walk the streets and society in relative safety speaks much about personal freedom and non-judgment. Progress has also not been linear. While Prop 8 narrowly passed, personal freedoms took a marked downturn the past decade with some of the anti terrorist legislation which undermined "due process". The country is growing a evolving, learning by both trial and error... unless of course you can label something terrorist... than you can leave out the trial. We're learning, we're changing, hopefully evolving!
At any rate, it strikes me how much we owe our ancestors for what we have achieved.
You can see a video of today's march by one of my friends at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWASpisjCp8
And here is a commentary on Prop 8:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVUecPhQPqY
Here views of the National/International Protest from Nov 15 all over the world:
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/
If you've never taken part in a political action or demonstration, you might be surprised at the beauty of such an event. Though I don't watch much news and don't get bogged down in mass media descriptions of "reality", preferring to deal and interpret my own first hand experience, I understand that oft times media portrays demonstrations as dangerous unruly events. In fact, I remember several years ago mentioning to a woman that I was going to attend a peace rally, and she remarked, "Isn't that dangerous? I've seen on the news how dangerous it is?" I laughed and replied that no, in my experience such events were largely peaceful, community building events. How could peace mongers really be dangerous? war mongers, yes... but peace mongers? I've always felt safe, at least from the crowd. The crowd is a community that crosses lines of race, age, gender, and orientation. Sure there are sometimes a few participants that lean towards violence. Naturally, I wouldn't lean towards marching with such groups or individuals, which are usually few and far between. The only thing that has ever intimidated me at such demonstrations is the law enforcement agents who sometimes line the street with guns. News likes to sensationalize and I guess people prefer watching drama rather than the constants of peace and joy.
The stigma of protests amuses me because our country was founded on Civil Disobediance when our forefathers staged the Boston Tea Party and started the "American Revolution." I'm sure if the British had our modern day rhetoric, we'd have been deemed terrorists. Likely the Native American Tribes would have put a similar label on us. At any rate it amuses me when our country which espouses free speech and personal freedom tends to look down when such things are put into practice. Dissenting opinion and forum is the mark of democracy. Unification, and squelching free speech begets dictatorships and fascism. The sensationalization of the dangers of the protests amuses me because my experiences at such events has never felt dangerous.
My experience in political demonstrations goes back to quite a number of San Francisco events, mainly the peace rallies and pro-bicycle rallies of the last seven years. My own semantics and view is that I do not march in any "anti-anything" marches, but rather "pro-something" marches. To me being anti anything only begets judgement, violence, and hate. This very morning a friend, another gay man, said he wasn't interested in doing a protest at City Hall today as he felt like we'd be preaching to the already converted here in San Francisco. He'd rather do some protests at some of the Churches that have chosen to spend money in judgment, rather than live unconditional love. I have little interest, myself, in doing a protest at a Church. I'm a live and let live kind of guy. I honor a Church's political right to exercise it's free speech.
When I march I prefer to be a living example of what I march for. Usually, I dance along the streets, singing, chanting, and doing some energywork. I remember one of my first experiences at a public demonstration was in an "anti-violence" march in Brooklyn ten years ago that protested murderous hate crimes that had taken place there. The magic of the Radical Faerie contingent that I marched with greatly impressed me. Our "troupe" drummed, chanted, danced, and paraded huge puppets. Our energy was directed to being our joyful selves and sharing our performance along the streets. That struck me as much more powerful political action than being angry and screaming.
Today, in San Francisco, tears welled up in my eyes as I appreciated our amazing country and it's gifts in the world. Not that we are better than others; rather each country has it's own gifts and beauty to share with the world. And, yet, I fully appreciate the individual freedom we have here. I've seen a bit of the world, and the overall freedom to be ourselves here, is something I don't see in other countries. The flip side is that our community and family structure have deteriorated while we learn how to create family and community more unconditionally, rather than based on blood relations and strict social custom.
I wandered into our city's center in front of City Hall. My eyes roamed the crowd. Children, families, grandparents, gays, bisexuals, lesbians, transgendered people all greeted my eyes. A "Victory Garden" adorned the ground in front of City Hall. Some group brought in soil and created a collage of beautiful garden beds over the pavement. Spirals of corn and sunflowers, along with circles of kale, created a visual delight that smelled of the good earth. The produce from the garden goes to the local Food Bank.
I drifted away from the ranting on the podium towards an adult tricycle which blasted out dance tunes from a portable sound system. A straight guy had brought it. He danced with his girl friend. A small group of bystanders clicked up their heels and danced to the grooves. I joined in. I always love dancing in the outdoors. A slightly overweight, bearded guy in his early fifties grooved under a sunhat and glasses. His energy combined with his myth busting look... he was no disco twink boy... drew smiles from the immediate crowd. A rolly polly black guy twirled a baton with the music. Being a living example of love spoke louder than words about "family values".
Shortly, I heard the beat of a drum cadence and saw movement along Polk Street that indicated a march was starting. I drifted away from the dance towards the beating drums, the magic of their beat beckoning me to join in. I walked quickly along the sidewalk passing the multitudes in the street and caught up with the drum corp as the march entered Market Street... the heart and thoroughfare of the city. As we stepped into Market Street, tears welled in my eyes, appreciating the community, the freedom, and how far our country has evolved from the idea of civil liberty for all, to the embodiment of it. Not that we are entirely there, but we've come a long way. I cried for all the places I've been over the years that haven't been so supportive of who I am as a modern day fag. I cried for all the people who face unspeakable judgments and terrorist actions for being or trying to BE who they are. The march took over the opposing lane of traffic so that we were marching a living example of GLBT Pride, which struck me as being perhaps more powerful than the annual corporate pride event... because this one was grassroots, spontaneous, and based on the hearts of many individuals sacrificing their time and efforts.... and based upon people standing up and doing something for what they believe in.
I reflected as I marched on how the real political action is our day to day lives. Where we spend our money. How we commune with our neighbors. In the broader scope, our country's political action is how it lives in the world. Are we democratic in the world? Are we peaceful in the world? Our actions speak larger than our lip service. I remembered years ago reading a Wendell Berry account of Harlan and Anna Hubbard, who lived a simple life for years, according to their beliefs. They eeked out a life on land along the Ohio River, with a garden and small heard of goats. They lived without electricity. Across the river a nuclear power plant was due to be built. Wendell wondered a bit about why Harlan and Anna weren't attending the protests. Then he realized they were living their protest. They weren't supporting the nuclear power plant one iota with their off-grid lifestyle. There was no need for them to travel miles by car to wield signs with slogans. Myself, I think there can be a place for both kinds of action, though I feel the real heart is in our day to day lives.
And today as I marched I realized the real political action was taking place across the San Francisco Bay, where a household of Radical Faeries.... queers... have taken in a dying member of our tribe. A youthful, mid-aged man, who is succumbing to cancer, his hip disintegrated by cancerous cells. A circle of friends has gathered from all over to support this household in their task, and to show their love for this man. I visited yesterday to lend my Reiki hands to the hospice. I walked into the dying man's room to find him surrounded by a half dozen friends, acquaintances, caregivers, love-givers. Some held their hands up channeling loving energy while others used feathers and shamanic traditions to help the man in his journey to the other world. Over the course of the afternoon, twenty to thirty people came through. There were about eight people from Portland and Seattle, devoting days to supporting both the man and his caregivers. Other than the man's niece, these were all friends and acquaintances, rather than blood relatives.
One of the main caregivers practically defies description based on American norms. A woman, with green hair, large facial piercings, a tattooed mustache and beard facilitates the hospice care. She's done this work for years. She negotiates with the hospitals and the medical speak. Somehow she cuts through the crap and deals with the medical bureaucracy. The funding is grassroots based on donations.
Only a week ago, the local community held a memorial service for John Burnside, one of our most influential gay elders in the Radical Faerie subculture. Together with his partner of forty some years, Harry Hay, he inspired a lot of growth and evolution in creating heart based, "subject-subject", queer, grassroots culture that celebrates the uniqueness of each individual, rather than status quo and clone culture. For nine years a circle of care givers supported John and Harry in their elder years, providing medical liason, elder housing, company, and community. They also held fundraisers. One of the things that struck me most from John's service was the story of his macular degeneration that quickly reduced his eyesight to a peripheral kaleidoscope. When asked how he felt about the condition, John replied, "Oh what a grand adventure it is! to see the world in a new way."
The legacy of Harry and John includes that we have found the power to come together and form circles of care for our sick and dying that stems from outside corporate insurance, and beyond blood lines. With our migratory habits and breakdown of traditional community structure, the impact of our potential create family and community wherever we are, is a grand political statement.
That we have come so far that a proposition such as Prop 8 was nearly divided in yays and nays, truly speaks how far we have come in the years since the Stone Wall Riots. That a green haired woman with facial piercings and tattoos can walk the streets and society in relative safety speaks much about personal freedom and non-judgment. Progress has also not been linear. While Prop 8 narrowly passed, personal freedoms took a marked downturn the past decade with some of the anti terrorist legislation which undermined "due process". The country is growing a evolving, learning by both trial and error... unless of course you can label something terrorist... than you can leave out the trial. We're learning, we're changing, hopefully evolving!
At any rate, it strikes me how much we owe our ancestors for what we have achieved.
You can see a video of today's march by one of my friends at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWASpisjCp8
And here is a commentary on Prop 8:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVUecPhQPqY
Here views of the National/International Protest from Nov 15 all over the world:
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Protest Against California Prop 8: National Action
There have been massive protests in SF and across the nation about Prop 8 which was against same-sex unions. Moved to tears of joy, I watch thousands march the streets of San Francisco last Friday evening. It makes me so proud to be an American that we have the rights of free speech and what democracy and freedoms we have left in the USA.
You can exercise your right to free speech and support same sex rights and civil unions by showing up at your local city hall this coming Saturday. People have even been showing up to support this in Salt Lake City!
http://protest8sf.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/join-the-impact-national-day-of-protests-nov-15/
You can exercise your right to free speech and support same sex rights and civil unions by showing up at your local city hall this coming Saturday. People have even been showing up to support this in Salt Lake City!
http://protest8sf.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/join-the-impact-national-day-of-protests-nov-15/
Thursday, November 06, 2008
City by the Bay
I've been in San Francisco two weeks now. Seems like forever as it most always does once I've arrived someplace. The last place fades from my mind as I immerse myself in the present.
Prior to San Francisco, I spent three weeks in Tennessee at a queer commune where I've visited regularly for 11 years now. Friends from all over meet there for gatherings at a commune that hosts us "Radical Faeries" for days of ritual, frolicking, and heart circles. Last time I was there was 3.5 years ago before my first trip to S.E. Asia. A second trip to Thailand and India last year, interspersed with stints all over the U.S. gave me a lot to integrate and try to share with friends. So many rich, vibrant, and oft intense experiences have happened in those 3.5 yrs. I enjoyed the growing community as people from all over the US have gradually bought land and built homes adjacent to the commune. Recently a member of the community bought a 300 acre farm 4 miles away so that the local community could have a place to explore/create/experience farm endeavors without having to leave the community. (Much of the other land is wooded and steep). I enjoyed revisiting the realm of farming that I enjoyed in my past. I got to drive a team of mules and work a ten acre piece up with a tractor and sow it to a rye/vetch cover/green manure crop. What a marvelous meditation.
I rather reluctantly left Tennessee on 21Oct on my prebooked flight to San Francisco. It seemed my prayers for recentering and regaining my full power finally integrated as I boarded the plane. I spent the flight feeling "enlightened" in a bubbly state of peace, trust, and joy. The mystical wanderer in me bubbled up, over, and through me. I was glad I had trusted my intuition and resisted clinging to Tennessee.
Roaming in San Francisco found me feeling more at home than most any place I've been in a while. San Francisco welcomes everyone of all cultural diversities. Finally I no longer stood out like I had in other countries or on the "other coast" of our own. The ethnic communities here trigger memories of my travels. I found my favorite soap from India in and Indian store. And the vegetables in the Asian markets reminded me of culinary favorites from abroad. The hum and rhythm of S.E. Asian dialects, or those of Indians made me feel almost like I was "there". I passed a passel of Asian youth on a sidewalk and felt for a moment like I was in Thailand. I'd never fully realized how such a multicultural city as San Francisco can prepare you for a trip abroad.
My friend Topsoil took me and a friend to the beach, where we walked a labyrinth barefoot. I giggled and wondered how I ever managed the barefoot pilgrimage in Bihar, India, last year. The sea of memories flooded me in a presence and present awareness of time collapsing... all my travels... my history merging into oneness, as the sea, the mighty Pacific swirled below our perch on a cliff. I felt as if I never quit being the mystical wanderer that i felt so strongly I was on my first trip to India with my Aussie metaphysical mate in 2005. The Pacific beckoned me to dive in or over and roam westward again. Hawaii had been on my mind as a winter retreat. I felt reaffirmed in what I imagine as my life's calling to continue wandering the earth.
That evening I went to the St. James Infirmary, a clinic where I worked for many years, to get some acupuncture and a check up. There were new faces that recognized me not. Finally, a woman I knew came out and shrieked, thrilled to see me. Soon others followed. And I felt a San Francisco homecoming. She said she felt so good to know that I was out wandering the world embodying trust and abundance. That happens to be my vision of course, but I oft find myself stuck in my fears rather than transcending them. It was nice to know someone else saw the vision, and I realized that indeed I was living it, though being a bit hard on myself. I got a great acupuncture treatment and felt good to be "home".
Halloween took me to China Town to see one of my best friends brothers play with his band. I enjoyed being in China town and appreciated the feel of it, like a mini trip to the Far East. My friend has been living in Berlin for over a year, and I was glad to catch him while he was stateside for a visit.
I ran into friends and acquaintances and feel held in loving arms of this city. On Nov 2, I marched in the Day of the Dead Procession in the Mission district. The Procession is a Hispanic tradition of honoring the dead on this day when the veil between the earthly and spirit worlds is said to be thin. People of all persuasions marched, many carrying candles to honor one they lost to the dead this year. There were drumming groups, and chanting groups, and silent walkers. Most wore the tradition black and painted their faces while with skeleton like embellishments. I'd forgotten what a moving event this was as the thousands marched along the streets in a route that would take us to a park where altars had been set up. Candles, pictures, sculptures, adorned the park. Some wept. Some laughed. It's both a celebration of life and grieving of loss. I prayed for my Uncle and invoked his spirit as one of my losses during the year. I noted how this event mimicked some of the pilgrimages I'd done in India. Except in this one I blended in. I knew the language. And I could wear shoes. I wished I could share the beauty of this event with my own family.
On Election Eve I joined friends at a post yoga class potluck and viewing of Saturday Night Live's Election Program. Many of my friends there had been in India in recent years, and it was a moving reunion to be together again and know that we had tales to tell that we could relate to.
I worked a clinic shift doing Reiki on Election Day, having mailed my absentee ballot in some time ago. After work, I did some errands and about 8pm started hearing sounds of celebration. Loud whoops. Occasional drums. I overheard people saying "it's over. Obama has won." I got home at 9 pm, tired. I didn't plan to go out. But the vibration of joy reverberated through the city and wouldn't let me rest. I heard soundbytes of celebration and finally went out and found the streets full of celebration. Smiles and music filled the air. I wandered into the Castro, which is revered as the heart of queer community in San Francisco. And found the street closed off for a celebration. Obama was on a big screen and the street was packed full of dancing revelers. Tears of joy came to my eyes as I realized how hard the last 8 years have been on "the community" here.And how much face the US lost in the world, how much our economy has suffered as we have ignored what has been going on within our borders. How we have not chosen to promote world democracy by not being democratic in the world. I realized how easy my political choices are being gay... how could I vote for someone that sees me as second class? ... and being mindful of what we are leaving for our future generations how we trod upon this Earth?
I learned that San Francisco's voters were 85% in favor of Obama. No wonder the city was afire in celebration! No wonder I never remembered witnessing such glee after other elections. The glee was bittersweet, as a proposition allegedly passed that will prohibit same sex couples from having the rights of marriage. Not that I'm necessarily in favor of legislating religious doctrine, but it seems only logical that partners of civil unions ought to have the right and abilities to create their households together and enjoy such privileges as riding in an ambulance with their loved one. I find it ironic that much of the heat comes from people who supposedly adhere to religion that espouses non-judgement and unconditional love.
Meanwhile I'm enjoying the freedom and creativity of this beautiful city.
Prior to San Francisco, I spent three weeks in Tennessee at a queer commune where I've visited regularly for 11 years now. Friends from all over meet there for gatherings at a commune that hosts us "Radical Faeries" for days of ritual, frolicking, and heart circles. Last time I was there was 3.5 years ago before my first trip to S.E. Asia. A second trip to Thailand and India last year, interspersed with stints all over the U.S. gave me a lot to integrate and try to share with friends. So many rich, vibrant, and oft intense experiences have happened in those 3.5 yrs. I enjoyed the growing community as people from all over the US have gradually bought land and built homes adjacent to the commune. Recently a member of the community bought a 300 acre farm 4 miles away so that the local community could have a place to explore/create/experience farm endeavors without having to leave the community. (Much of the other land is wooded and steep). I enjoyed revisiting the realm of farming that I enjoyed in my past. I got to drive a team of mules and work a ten acre piece up with a tractor and sow it to a rye/vetch cover/green manure crop. What a marvelous meditation.
I rather reluctantly left Tennessee on 21Oct on my prebooked flight to San Francisco. It seemed my prayers for recentering and regaining my full power finally integrated as I boarded the plane. I spent the flight feeling "enlightened" in a bubbly state of peace, trust, and joy. The mystical wanderer in me bubbled up, over, and through me. I was glad I had trusted my intuition and resisted clinging to Tennessee.
Roaming in San Francisco found me feeling more at home than most any place I've been in a while. San Francisco welcomes everyone of all cultural diversities. Finally I no longer stood out like I had in other countries or on the "other coast" of our own. The ethnic communities here trigger memories of my travels. I found my favorite soap from India in and Indian store. And the vegetables in the Asian markets reminded me of culinary favorites from abroad. The hum and rhythm of S.E. Asian dialects, or those of Indians made me feel almost like I was "there". I passed a passel of Asian youth on a sidewalk and felt for a moment like I was in Thailand. I'd never fully realized how such a multicultural city as San Francisco can prepare you for a trip abroad.
My friend Topsoil took me and a friend to the beach, where we walked a labyrinth barefoot. I giggled and wondered how I ever managed the barefoot pilgrimage in Bihar, India, last year. The sea of memories flooded me in a presence and present awareness of time collapsing... all my travels... my history merging into oneness, as the sea, the mighty Pacific swirled below our perch on a cliff. I felt as if I never quit being the mystical wanderer that i felt so strongly I was on my first trip to India with my Aussie metaphysical mate in 2005. The Pacific beckoned me to dive in or over and roam westward again. Hawaii had been on my mind as a winter retreat. I felt reaffirmed in what I imagine as my life's calling to continue wandering the earth.
That evening I went to the St. James Infirmary, a clinic where I worked for many years, to get some acupuncture and a check up. There were new faces that recognized me not. Finally, a woman I knew came out and shrieked, thrilled to see me. Soon others followed. And I felt a San Francisco homecoming. She said she felt so good to know that I was out wandering the world embodying trust and abundance. That happens to be my vision of course, but I oft find myself stuck in my fears rather than transcending them. It was nice to know someone else saw the vision, and I realized that indeed I was living it, though being a bit hard on myself. I got a great acupuncture treatment and felt good to be "home".
Halloween took me to China Town to see one of my best friends brothers play with his band. I enjoyed being in China town and appreciated the feel of it, like a mini trip to the Far East. My friend has been living in Berlin for over a year, and I was glad to catch him while he was stateside for a visit.
I ran into friends and acquaintances and feel held in loving arms of this city. On Nov 2, I marched in the Day of the Dead Procession in the Mission district. The Procession is a Hispanic tradition of honoring the dead on this day when the veil between the earthly and spirit worlds is said to be thin. People of all persuasions marched, many carrying candles to honor one they lost to the dead this year. There were drumming groups, and chanting groups, and silent walkers. Most wore the tradition black and painted their faces while with skeleton like embellishments. I'd forgotten what a moving event this was as the thousands marched along the streets in a route that would take us to a park where altars had been set up. Candles, pictures, sculptures, adorned the park. Some wept. Some laughed. It's both a celebration of life and grieving of loss. I prayed for my Uncle and invoked his spirit as one of my losses during the year. I noted how this event mimicked some of the pilgrimages I'd done in India. Except in this one I blended in. I knew the language. And I could wear shoes. I wished I could share the beauty of this event with my own family.
On Election Eve I joined friends at a post yoga class potluck and viewing of Saturday Night Live's Election Program. Many of my friends there had been in India in recent years, and it was a moving reunion to be together again and know that we had tales to tell that we could relate to.
I worked a clinic shift doing Reiki on Election Day, having mailed my absentee ballot in some time ago. After work, I did some errands and about 8pm started hearing sounds of celebration. Loud whoops. Occasional drums. I overheard people saying "it's over. Obama has won." I got home at 9 pm, tired. I didn't plan to go out. But the vibration of joy reverberated through the city and wouldn't let me rest. I heard soundbytes of celebration and finally went out and found the streets full of celebration. Smiles and music filled the air. I wandered into the Castro, which is revered as the heart of queer community in San Francisco. And found the street closed off for a celebration. Obama was on a big screen and the street was packed full of dancing revelers. Tears of joy came to my eyes as I realized how hard the last 8 years have been on "the community" here.And how much face the US lost in the world, how much our economy has suffered as we have ignored what has been going on within our borders. How we have not chosen to promote world democracy by not being democratic in the world. I realized how easy my political choices are being gay... how could I vote for someone that sees me as second class? ... and being mindful of what we are leaving for our future generations how we trod upon this Earth?
I learned that San Francisco's voters were 85% in favor of Obama. No wonder the city was afire in celebration! No wonder I never remembered witnessing such glee after other elections. The glee was bittersweet, as a proposition allegedly passed that will prohibit same sex couples from having the rights of marriage. Not that I'm necessarily in favor of legislating religious doctrine, but it seems only logical that partners of civil unions ought to have the right and abilities to create their households together and enjoy such privileges as riding in an ambulance with their loved one. I find it ironic that much of the heat comes from people who supposedly adhere to religion that espouses non-judgement and unconditional love.
Meanwhile I'm enjoying the freedom and creativity of this beautiful city.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Foot By Foot in the Catskills
Nature soothes me. Finally after months of keeping to self imposed grindstones, I got it together to get out in the mountains. My destination, The Catskills.
I drove through the hills of upstate NY, crossing the Susquehanna River in Oneonta, I drove south into the steeper hills and watched them grow into mountains.
I dined on yummy Chinese food in Hunter. I deliberated. My head spinning from days of less sleep than I would have liked, and a good dose of grounding work. I'd been helping my cousin with his tent and auction business. It gave me a mix of sorting other people's stuff, and physical labor of putting up and taking down tents.
It felt good to be on the road again, in touch with my nomadic tendencies. The ultralight pack I'd first used in Hawaii four years ago brought memories of backpacking on lava earthscapes, and my first major mountain summit experience when I climbed Mauna Loa.
My mind started to declutter. In the way, were fears and indecisiveness. Where exactly was I going to hike and camp? Indian Head Mountain, Overlook Mountain, Poet's Ledge, and/or the Escarpment Trail. My indecisive nature ran rampant in my tired state. I resorted to my pendulum to tap into my intuition. Indian Head Mountain was it's answer. My mind found fault with the rugged hike. The ease of Overlook Mountain and it's proximity to a Buddhist Temple called to parts of me that remembered such sights from India and Nepal. Yet, if I drove to that trail head, I might loose another hour of daylight. It didn't sink in that I could get there via the Indian Head side.
I'd enjoyed discovering the Catskills in my internet research and mountain guidebook. The history of Hudson Valley artists and transcendentalist writers struck deep chords in my memory. Thoreau, Whitman, Burroughs. Legend of Sleepy Hollow. The painting of Kindred Spirits. All drew faint recognition in my whirled traveler brain.
I passed a sign announcing a visitor center as I neared the trailhead. I turned around and took the excuse to find help in my deliberations. The information kiosk surprised me when I drove up the lane to find a huge old hotel of a building. As I parked, a earthy man with a trimmed beard came alongside the car with a cart of what looked to my once farmer's eyes, like freshly dug potatoes. Indeed they were. He called for the "person on duty" to come give me information. Meanwhile I inquired what the facility was, and he said it was a Christian community.
I noted the same grounded clarity in their eyes here as I noticed in the eyes of the Amish a few weeks ago at an auction. Connected to the Earth. Connected to the code they chose to live by. No muddled heads. Not so much confusion from the burgeoning world culture of information and consumerism.
He and the young man "on duty" didn't help me sort out where I was going to hike and camp. They did give me some ideas, but no breakthrough of clarity. My pendulum still suggested the Indian Head Mountain. So I went to the trailhead, parked, packed, and headed off up the trailhead.
A wooden footbridge greeted me and led me into the deep scent of hemlock and pine. It smelled good, fresh, cool. I enjoyed a few stone quarries along the trails. Visions of men working and sweating with horses and oxen in the virgin timbered woods passed through my consciousness. Sometimes I think I was born a century too late, when I consider the thrill of being around the Amish, and the excitement with which I read my Great Grand Father's diaries of the 1860s. Something appeals to me about a world devoid of the buzz of motors... where you hear the rhythyms of hand tools and hoof steps.
I easily covered the 0.9 miles of steady upgrade to the intersection with the Devil's Path, the trail that would take me up to the top of Indian Head Mountain. Devil's Path is reputed to be steep, rugged, and relatively devoid of fresh water. I carried plenty of water for my overnight. But the ruggedness intimidated my potentially out of shape legs and overall tiredness.
I begrudged trusting the pendulum, and turned up the steeper Devil's Path, thinking maybe I'd have time to hike to Overlook Moutain from this back end. My indesiveness and the steeper climb ate up daylight. I finally resolved to get up to Sherman's Overlook, and potentially skip doing the summit.
The trail was indeed rugged. In Hawaii, I had trekked at 3-4 mph, and surpassed all the 1-2 mph time estimates by the trail guides. Here, in the steep Catskills, I was on the 1-2 mph mark. Last year, in the Indian Himalaya, I had learned that speed is not everything, and had taken my shoes off to go slower, to enjoy the sights more. Yet now, in the Catskills, I felt the pressure of desire to achieve several goals in a short time... I had slotted only a day and a half here.
My knees balked a bit at the pressure. It took me quite a bit of mental wandering from fearing injury and being laid up until I got to setting the intention that they'd be fine. I steadily slurped on the tube of water from my hydration pack, thankful for the ease of sipping water. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of an overlook. I stepped out onto a rock, and beheld the grandueur of the Hudson Valley. Platte's Clove below me. AHHHH... this felt good and made it all worth it! An amazing fall day showed off a great visibility of the surrounding mountains and hills. I rested a bit, enjoying the view. No wonder the Hudson Valley School of painters had spent so much time here.
After a brief recovery, I moved on, spurred by the cool breeze. In a few minutes I came upon a western overlook, where the sun was warm. I lingered here, enjoying the heat. I thought I could see the Tibetan Monastery off on a hill by Woodstock.
Now the summit plagued my mind. It seemed, by the guidebook's words, to be relatively close at hand. I knew I'd hate to pass it up, being so close. So I urged myself onwards. At the base of a rock crag, I left my pack. A ten foot scramble had me significantly closer to my summit goal. After a couple small scrambles, I enjoyed level trails. Rugged and small, the trees showed the hardships of living atop a windswept pile of rocks that makes a mountain. I passed a sign prohibiting camping over 3500 feet. I figured I was close. I ran at times along the level trail. After an eternal 30 minutes I came to the edge of the level trail and saw it drop deep down into clove. No way was I going to go down any rugged trail, only to have to come up again. I decided if the summit was over there, I'd skip it. I turned around and headed back from whence I came, anxious to get down the mountain and seeing about heading towards Overlook Mountain, or at least to Echo Lake, where there was a lean-to.
I felt pretty wiped out by the time I got back down off Indian Head Mountain, and returned upon the Devil's Path to where it met the Overlook Trail, the old quarry road from the 1840s. I turned towards Overlook Mountain and Echo Lake. There was a lean-to, called Devil's kitchen, nearby. There I could decide whether to bed down, or head to Echo Lake.
I appreciated the relatively level Overlook trail. I appreciated the gentle scenery and wondered why my infatuation with mountains? A stroll through the woods can be as fulfilling as the challenge of a summit. I suppose I like both.
I soon approached the lean-to at Devil's Kitchen from a blind side. The open side faced off towards a stream and ravine on the left. I got about 12 feet from the lean-to, when all of the sudden, a black bear scrambled out looking over his shoulder in a panic! I shouted "Hey you!" before I'd even thought about speaking. I laughed. My mind began to worry. I hadn't anticipated bears. The guidebooks for the Adirondacks mentioned bear and preparations for such profusely. I had been relieved not to run across any mention of bears in my Catskill guidebooks. I wondered about my stash of nuts, apples, and dried appricots. I knew that one way to avoid trouble with bears was to avoid the usual camping spots where bears learn to search and find food. I had kind of wanted the shelter of a lean to, though.
As I walked by the lean-to, I was grateful that the bear had run before I got to the open side and cornered him in there. The lean-to was dark, and blackened from it's history of camp fires in the fire pit right in front of it. The lean-to appealed little to me now... it seemed a bit claustrophobic, especially if the bear considered it a good hangout.
Now, I felt that my option was only Echo Lake. I proceeded round the clove, over a wooden foot bridge spanning a rushing creek that tumbled quickly down the mountain. Soon I came to a "Y" in the trail where I couldn't tell which way to go. I choose the low way, knowing I'd soon see a trail marker in either case. I got about 30 feet down the trail, when I saw the bear staring at me straight ahead about 50 feet. I now realized that the trail curved around the cove and we were pretty much opposite from the lean-to.
We stared at each other, the bear and I. I yelled and waved my arms. He stared. I considered retracing my steps, but remembered something about bears being attracted to fear. I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. We continued to stare at each other until he decided to run. I was thankful. I walked down the trail towards where he had been, only to find the trail ended in the brush. I felt bad, having bothered him needlessly. I felt worse as I realized, that he had scurried up the hill and was bound to be in the vicinity of the proper trail.
I nearly stepped in fresh bear dung, obviously left by the bear after he'd scurried out of the lean-to. And I laughed at the thought of scaring the shit out of the bear. I hoped that he wouldn't return the favor as I returned to the "Y" in the trail and now took the high road. I proceeded cautiously for several hundred yards, and gladly discovered no sign of the bear. Another half hour, and I felt clear of his territory.
I strolled along the contour of the hill on the Overlook Trail, imagining wagons and men working here in times past. Another quarry showed up on the left, with a bit of an overlook onto the Hudson Valley. The trail was on the edge of the mountains.
Dusk approached as I turned down the side trail to Echo Lake. Steady down hill, the trail led to a valley. I heard the most amazing singing, like a choir. I wondered that I could hear sounds from the village of Woodstock. Wearily trudging down the trail, I was thankful to be close to my bed-spot for the night. Soon I realized the singing must be coming from the Lake itself. I would not be camping alone. I felt a bit sad at that, but at the same time was greatful, for I felt safer in bear country knowing others were nearby.
The sun just setting, I wandered past the lean-to and saw a group sitting by Echo Lake. About 15 or so. Two man/woman couples, and a gaggle of small children. Their angelic singing came to a halt just as a approached. They heard my footsteps and looked over. A man greeted me. He said they'd be camping on the other side of the Lake, leaving me the lean-to. Simple, clear, joyful, he told how they'd hiked in from the Woodstock side, and would be traveling on toward's Platte's Cove, where they lived, the next day. The women's simple dresses gave me every reason to assume they lived in the community where I'd stopped for information. He said they wanted to see if there was indeed an Echo at Echo Lake. Someone started a song with a syllable and the rest joined in in perfect harmony, like a professional choir. The children gazed back, smiles gleaming at me, when the mountains told the truth that there was indeed a beautiful echo here. These peoples joy was inspiring. They soon left me alone as they retreated around the lake.
I strung up my hammock between two trees about 15 feet from the Lake. I ate my cheese sandwich and some almonds and apricots. The air cooled quickly and I nestled into my sleeping bag. Fish jumping in the lake startled me a few times... still wary of the bears. Then a group of wild dogs or coyotes howled from the top of the trail into the valley. I worked through my fears, remembering it was rare that animals attacked humans. I prayed the critters leave me alone and stay at bay tonight.
The wind picked up and cooled my back in the hammock. I tried to find a nearby level spot to sprawl out, but couldn't. I returned to the hammock. The wind picked up, and finally, I just decided to sprawl out on the ground beneath me. I remembered how I had learned to sleep on a sheet of plastic on cement on my barefoot pilgrimage for Shiva in Bihar, India. And so I knew I could easily sleep here. I threw my piece of plastic down, my thin pad, and nestled into my sleeping bag into the arms of the solid Mother Earth. It was amazing how well this quieted my busy mind. I drifted to sleep.
In the morn, I awoke before dawn and started hiking out by sunrise. The air was brisk, though I don't believe it frosted in the woods. I got to the car, and ate some nuts. I then drove over to the Escarpment Trail in Haines Valley.
Escarpment Trail, gives the most views for the effort... so said the men at the visitor center yesterday. And they were right. Sunset Rock, and Inspiration Point gave amazing views over the Hudson Valley. Inspiration Point served and probably still serves painters with plenty of inspiration. There were names carved into the flat rock outcropping from the late 1800's and early 1900's when the area was in it's prime as a tourist location.
After looping round the end of the Escarpment Trail, I drove to the Kaaterskill Falls trailhead and virtually sprinted up the rocky ravine to see New York's highest waterfall.
An hour later I was enroute through New Jersey to the burbs of Philadelphia, reeling in the joy of my footage through the Catskills. I can't wait to return and spend days and weeks exploring more of the Catskills.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Western Medicine, Water, and Hope!
It's been two months since I arrived in the USA from India. Most of my time has been in the suburbs of Wilmington, Delaware. It's funny I was realizing the other day how "normal" it seems to me here now. How I've adapted.
I watched the movie Kundun last night which is one of the best movies I've ever seen. It depicts the Dalai Lama's early years and flight from Tibet during the Chinese Invasion. It makes me sad to realize the USA's lip service to world democracy when they obviously use such terms to support their own agenda's such as oil, while ignoring such violations of humanity as those in Tibet.
The movie brought back images of what it is like to travel in the "third" world where most people have little clutter in their lives. Few cars. Few belongings. Sparse, small houses and abodes. The material wealth and waste we have in the US is amazing. Astonishing. Wonderful. Grotesque. It's interesting how little relationship there is between happiness and material things. I've seen what we would consider impoverished little kids gleefully playing with a used plastic bottle as a soccer balls in the streets of Gangtok.
I no longer think twice before hopping in the car, and driving in that isolated box down the road. I easily spend $15-20 here in a moment. I could live up to 4 days on that in India. I watched Ben Cohen's explanation of the Federal Budget last night. It struck me how easy it would be to feed the world. A family in India could live on $1000/year. I've been making smoothies in a blender. This morning I wondered how far the resources I use for my morning juice would go in the third world?
Meanwhile I've seen more of the inside of the American Medical system than ever before. Insurance. Specialists. Run arounds. I tried insurance once and found it a waste of time. I was in the middle of dental work with a root canal or two halfway done, when my employer signed me up for dental insurance. I went to the new dentist covered by my insurance. They insisted on a consultation and told me that I needed to have a crown put on my tooth that was prepared for a crown... and that it needed to be done soon! Then offered me an appointment three weeks later. I quit the insurance and went back to paying my own way at my previous dentist. In San Francisco, the handful of times I thought I needed western medicine, I was able to go to sliding scale clinics. Over the years, I've learned quite a bit about healing from other sources like Reiki and shamanism. I've learned that healing happens when we set the intention to heal. Then we find a ritual to help with that intention. The ritual could be western medicine or Reiki or anything that promotes our belief/intention and health. I've learned that it is important to find resources that support and help you in your goal. It's important to be proactive in your healthcare. If you have a condition that one modality cannot heal, go to another that has solutions. Find someone who has healed from the condition you have. Find out what they did.
If people put as much intention into their health and healing as they do in manifesting cars and homes and material bric brac, they would be very healthy indeed! Yet, for some reason we tend to want to skimp on our health. We look for cheap doctors and cheap food! Rather than nurturing doctors and food!
I'm aghast at the proliferation of drug advertisements. There was one on the trailer at the movie theater the other day! Strange in a society that is in the midst of anti-drug wars for recreational drugs. Strange people don't see the connection between use of medical drugs and recreational drugs. The same quick fix mentality. And funny how some drugs like caffeine, alcohol, sugar, salt, and cigarettes are arbitrarily accepted as OK. Drugs are big business. Drug salesman bombard physicians daily with new products.
It's no wonder that when one of my dear friends was nauseous, already on 10 medications, that her doctor prescribed another drug. No examination. No weight measure. No diet questions. No interest in exploring the possibility that her side effects were caused by one of her other medications. The new drug would destroy the stomach's ability to produce digestive acid. No doubt in another few months, some sort of artificial stomach acid would be prescribed! Meanwhile, one specialist sends her to another. The greater tragedy I see is that the doctors don't really focus on increasing the health of the body. I read about herbs that actually help the body improve itself. Micro nutrients that help build tissue. I experience ancient sciences of yoga and acupuncture that focus on improving the body. Western medicine is largely a system of patches upon patches. Don't get me wrong, Western science has some excellent procedures for radical emergencies. But overall it's focus seems invasive and focused on lifelong dependency.
Some friends of mine offer workshops on eye health and vision. When eyeglasses were first developed, they were used as temporary measures. The doctor would work at reducing the strength of the correction with an eye for strengthening and improving the eye. Now we take eye glasses as permanent fixtures in our life... no thought of actually trying to improve eyesight. And medications are no better.
The good news is there is a growing movement of alternative choices. Integrative Medicine Programs are becoming common. The combine the best of Western Medicine for acute cases with the best of other modalities for degenerative conditions that western medicine doesn't have answers for. The good news is that more and more people are starting to take charge of their own bodies and care. A growing organic and supplement market is showing that people are looking into less invasive ways and lifestyle changes to actually improve their health and vitality.
In Gary Null's Ultimate Anti Aging Program, I read about a 90 year old man who is a marathon runner! When he was 80, he was arthritic, had a precancerous condition in his bowels, asthma, and chronic sinusitis! Simple lifestyle and diet changes turned his life around! And in Null's study of 256 people with a program for anti aging, those types of results were common! Someplace else I read (not sure whether it was in one of Andrew Weil's books, or Lemole's Healing Diet), that high cholesterol foods affect your arteries for 6-8 hours after eating them. If, for instance, you eat a bag of potato chips three times a day, your body is constantly compromised. So the good news, is if you simply cut out all the crap food, your body will naturally heal! Alot easier than getting some drug for the rest of your life!
And so I'm optimistic for myself and others. Long ago I set my intention to live a healthy active life until my 90s, and then to die quickly, easily, and peacefully. It makes me happy and confident when I read about and see other people finding ways to do such things. I wish more people would put such focus and intention into their own health, well being, and death. Your every thought and action is a prayer and ritual for creating your life!
In the last few weeks I've been researching water a bit. Long ago I started actually following the common advice of drinking a minimum of 8-10 glasses of water per day... something like 2-3 quarts/liters for a minimum. And more with exercise, sickness, and/or drying conditions. I have found myself in remarkable health compared to many of my peers. I have found that water revives me when I am tired. The common water recommendation seems to be based on how much water the body looses through fluids and evaporation. There are a few studies and many personal accounts that show that increased water intake heals or reduces such conditions as cancer. Strokes apparently tend to happen when blood is thick and less hydrated. There is the caveat that it is possible to over hydrate by drinking too much water with too few salts very quickly. I think that would be very hard to do... I mean I've often drank 1 liter at a time with no problem and occasionally close to 2 liters. In my travels I'm amazed at people I meet with dark stinky pee. I figure if I can get my pee close to clear during the day, I'm well hydrated. I'm amazed how much this water this can take with relative inactivity in a dry heated house. Water lubricates the body. That's very important for exercise! I think lots of people shrug off exercise with old age, when they really just need to eat and drink water. Hulda Crooks, a woman who started backpacking up mountains as a senior citizen discovered that on her first hike. She grew tired and weary and was thinking perhaps she was too old. She stopped and ate and drank, and found her energy renewed! How many countless others give up and give in to stories of old age. I've met people younger than me who already have chosen such dis-empowered realities. I've wondered at times why we seem to need so much water. I read of Aborigines walking around the desert and I doubt they drink that much. I think perhaps our needs are because we have more toxins to flush out of our body, and perhaps our mineral intake is lacking with all the synthetic salts and foods. Celtic sea salt for instance has nearly the same mineral content as blood. Processed salt is sodium chloride. I look at the studies. Most of all I look at my own experience. When I drink 3-6 liters/quarts per day, I feel good. When I don't I feel worse, I get more aches and pains. I find that when I exercise the affects of water show up very quickly. When I am hiking and take a rest every hour or two to snack and drink water, I can go on and on. When I don't, I get crabby, tired, and develop aches/pains/injuries. Water is such a simple and cheap thing to try, I am surprised more people don't try it!
I watched the movie Kundun last night which is one of the best movies I've ever seen. It depicts the Dalai Lama's early years and flight from Tibet during the Chinese Invasion. It makes me sad to realize the USA's lip service to world democracy when they obviously use such terms to support their own agenda's such as oil, while ignoring such violations of humanity as those in Tibet.
The movie brought back images of what it is like to travel in the "third" world where most people have little clutter in their lives. Few cars. Few belongings. Sparse, small houses and abodes. The material wealth and waste we have in the US is amazing. Astonishing. Wonderful. Grotesque. It's interesting how little relationship there is between happiness and material things. I've seen what we would consider impoverished little kids gleefully playing with a used plastic bottle as a soccer balls in the streets of Gangtok.
I no longer think twice before hopping in the car, and driving in that isolated box down the road. I easily spend $15-20 here in a moment. I could live up to 4 days on that in India. I watched Ben Cohen's explanation of the Federal Budget last night. It struck me how easy it would be to feed the world. A family in India could live on $1000/year. I've been making smoothies in a blender. This morning I wondered how far the resources I use for my morning juice would go in the third world?
Meanwhile I've seen more of the inside of the American Medical system than ever before. Insurance. Specialists. Run arounds. I tried insurance once and found it a waste of time. I was in the middle of dental work with a root canal or two halfway done, when my employer signed me up for dental insurance. I went to the new dentist covered by my insurance. They insisted on a consultation and told me that I needed to have a crown put on my tooth that was prepared for a crown... and that it needed to be done soon! Then offered me an appointment three weeks later. I quit the insurance and went back to paying my own way at my previous dentist. In San Francisco, the handful of times I thought I needed western medicine, I was able to go to sliding scale clinics. Over the years, I've learned quite a bit about healing from other sources like Reiki and shamanism. I've learned that healing happens when we set the intention to heal. Then we find a ritual to help with that intention. The ritual could be western medicine or Reiki or anything that promotes our belief/intention and health. I've learned that it is important to find resources that support and help you in your goal. It's important to be proactive in your healthcare. If you have a condition that one modality cannot heal, go to another that has solutions. Find someone who has healed from the condition you have. Find out what they did.
If people put as much intention into their health and healing as they do in manifesting cars and homes and material bric brac, they would be very healthy indeed! Yet, for some reason we tend to want to skimp on our health. We look for cheap doctors and cheap food! Rather than nurturing doctors and food!
I'm aghast at the proliferation of drug advertisements. There was one on the trailer at the movie theater the other day! Strange in a society that is in the midst of anti-drug wars for recreational drugs. Strange people don't see the connection between use of medical drugs and recreational drugs. The same quick fix mentality. And funny how some drugs like caffeine, alcohol, sugar, salt, and cigarettes are arbitrarily accepted as OK. Drugs are big business. Drug salesman bombard physicians daily with new products.
It's no wonder that when one of my dear friends was nauseous, already on 10 medications, that her doctor prescribed another drug. No examination. No weight measure. No diet questions. No interest in exploring the possibility that her side effects were caused by one of her other medications. The new drug would destroy the stomach's ability to produce digestive acid. No doubt in another few months, some sort of artificial stomach acid would be prescribed! Meanwhile, one specialist sends her to another. The greater tragedy I see is that the doctors don't really focus on increasing the health of the body. I read about herbs that actually help the body improve itself. Micro nutrients that help build tissue. I experience ancient sciences of yoga and acupuncture that focus on improving the body. Western medicine is largely a system of patches upon patches. Don't get me wrong, Western science has some excellent procedures for radical emergencies. But overall it's focus seems invasive and focused on lifelong dependency.
Some friends of mine offer workshops on eye health and vision. When eyeglasses were first developed, they were used as temporary measures. The doctor would work at reducing the strength of the correction with an eye for strengthening and improving the eye. Now we take eye glasses as permanent fixtures in our life... no thought of actually trying to improve eyesight. And medications are no better.
The good news is there is a growing movement of alternative choices. Integrative Medicine Programs are becoming common. The combine the best of Western Medicine for acute cases with the best of other modalities for degenerative conditions that western medicine doesn't have answers for. The good news is that more and more people are starting to take charge of their own bodies and care. A growing organic and supplement market is showing that people are looking into less invasive ways and lifestyle changes to actually improve their health and vitality.
In Gary Null's Ultimate Anti Aging Program, I read about a 90 year old man who is a marathon runner! When he was 80, he was arthritic, had a precancerous condition in his bowels, asthma, and chronic sinusitis! Simple lifestyle and diet changes turned his life around! And in Null's study of 256 people with a program for anti aging, those types of results were common! Someplace else I read (not sure whether it was in one of Andrew Weil's books, or Lemole's Healing Diet), that high cholesterol foods affect your arteries for 6-8 hours after eating them. If, for instance, you eat a bag of potato chips three times a day, your body is constantly compromised. So the good news, is if you simply cut out all the crap food, your body will naturally heal! Alot easier than getting some drug for the rest of your life!
And so I'm optimistic for myself and others. Long ago I set my intention to live a healthy active life until my 90s, and then to die quickly, easily, and peacefully. It makes me happy and confident when I read about and see other people finding ways to do such things. I wish more people would put such focus and intention into their own health, well being, and death. Your every thought and action is a prayer and ritual for creating your life!
In the last few weeks I've been researching water a bit. Long ago I started actually following the common advice of drinking a minimum of 8-10 glasses of water per day... something like 2-3 quarts/liters for a minimum. And more with exercise, sickness, and/or drying conditions. I have found myself in remarkable health compared to many of my peers. I have found that water revives me when I am tired. The common water recommendation seems to be based on how much water the body looses through fluids and evaporation. There are a few studies and many personal accounts that show that increased water intake heals or reduces such conditions as cancer. Strokes apparently tend to happen when blood is thick and less hydrated. There is the caveat that it is possible to over hydrate by drinking too much water with too few salts very quickly. I think that would be very hard to do... I mean I've often drank 1 liter at a time with no problem and occasionally close to 2 liters. In my travels I'm amazed at people I meet with dark stinky pee. I figure if I can get my pee close to clear during the day, I'm well hydrated. I'm amazed how much this water this can take with relative inactivity in a dry heated house. Water lubricates the body. That's very important for exercise! I think lots of people shrug off exercise with old age, when they really just need to eat and drink water. Hulda Crooks, a woman who started backpacking up mountains as a senior citizen discovered that on her first hike. She grew tired and weary and was thinking perhaps she was too old. She stopped and ate and drank, and found her energy renewed! How many countless others give up and give in to stories of old age. I've met people younger than me who already have chosen such dis-empowered realities. I've wondered at times why we seem to need so much water. I read of Aborigines walking around the desert and I doubt they drink that much. I think perhaps our needs are because we have more toxins to flush out of our body, and perhaps our mineral intake is lacking with all the synthetic salts and foods. Celtic sea salt for instance has nearly the same mineral content as blood. Processed salt is sodium chloride. I look at the studies. Most of all I look at my own experience. When I drink 3-6 liters/quarts per day, I feel good. When I don't I feel worse, I get more aches and pains. I find that when I exercise the affects of water show up very quickly. When I am hiking and take a rest every hour or two to snack and drink water, I can go on and on. When I don't, I get crabby, tired, and develop aches/pains/injuries. Water is such a simple and cheap thing to try, I am surprised more people don't try it!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Monday, January 07, 2008
Travel Tips: Computers, PDAs, USB Traveldrives and Productivity
Keeping organized and "in touch" with your work, friends, and family while on the road can take on many forms. There is the old school method of pen and paper. I've carried a journal and small address book with me around the world. Internet cafes are pretty common wherever I have been: Nepal, India, Thailand, and Laos... beyond the USA. The prices of internet cafes seem to drop. If you are in a city big enough to get away from tourists, you can find internet cafes for locals at $0.50 USD or less. More remote touristy areas like the Everest Base Camp trek, or Ton Sai in Thailand will have some internet for a price! Ton Sai's internet was around $3/hour, which relatively is cheap unless your are on a $5-10/day budget. In Namche Bazaar enroute to Everest, the price was around $1-2USD/minute. Usually printing, scanning, and CD burning are available, though often at tourist prices. The internet cafes are generally Window's based. My last 8 month jaunt to S.E.Asia, I carried a small 1 G USB travel drive. I didn't use it much. My email and blog are web based. I mainly used it when I wanted to work on Reiki Manuals, or if I were checking my online bank accounts, I used the browser on the USB for extra security.
If you only need to check email, there is no reason to bring anything with you. But if you have other work to do, such as writing, or office work, then you might want to consider some other options, such as portable flash drives, PDAs, or a laptop.
Another method is to use web-based services for your addresses, calendar, or simply to store information. For instance I usually save important numbers such as passport, visa, credit card, traveler's cheques in a draft email to myself on a web based email account. I've also emailed myself copies of Reiki manuals and certificates so I can download them and print them as needed if I teach on the road.
The next cheapest and lightest option is a USB travel drive. You can find 2 Gig models for well under $50 USD. If you have a camera, you might just get extra memory cards and a USB card reader. The USB drive will allow you to carry your data with you. I've used "U3" drives which come with proprietary software on them. U3 is a common platform for certain software applications that can travel on your travel drive. Another platform is PortableApps (http://portableapps.com) with a range of free open source software. The advantage of this is that you can have your photo editor, website builder, spreadsheet, wordprocessor, etc. software with you! You can also carry a web browser with all your favorites loaded. You can't always count on the internet cafes to have MS Word, or Adobe Photoshop, or.... whatever software you use. Carrying your own software on your USB drive will ensure you can open your documents when you need to. You can also get programs that store your important travel information in secure electronic form. By the way, security programs are also available to provide protection against viruses and spyware. Internet cafes can be havens for viruses and trojans, etc.
The amazing thing I have just discovered is the availability of good, free software. PortableApps.com is amazing! Mozilla Firefox internet browser's are available, along with Thunderbird email manager. PortableApps.com has a openoffice.org suite that parallels Microsoft Office with spreadsheet, database, word processor, graphic editor, etc. And these programs can read Microsoft's versions of your documents! There is even a free chat interface called Pidgin that can work with your AIM and Yahoo Messenger accounts. If you are concerned about covering your data trail, there are programs designed to leave no trace of your doings on the host computer. Check out Democrakey. You can also carry your own photo editor and uploader for managing your digital photos. Ifranview is a decent batch photo processor for resizing photos.
The U3 platform has quite a few free listings, but also many programs that you can buy. I've read mixed reviews about the U3 platform. So far I've enjoyed it and found it works OK.
Right now I have a Sandisk Micro 4G U3 travel drive, and I plan to get a cheap Kingston Traveler 4G for $25! It's likely not the fastest drive, but I can back up my other drive with it. I'm really excited that I can carry all my writings, addresses, and important documents with my favorite software on a thing smaller than my thumb! I'll put the two drives in an old pill bottle for protection. And will email documents to myself for backup.
If you can't bare the idea of going to an internet cafe whenever you need to write or do computer work, then you might consider a PDA or a laptop. You can find an old Palm 125 that works off of AA batteries and has an SD card slot for less than $75 USD. You could use a "smart phone", though if you want to use the phone without paying outlandish roaming charges, you need one with a replaceable SIM card. That and a portable keyboard could be a good way of writing on the road. You could save the documents on the SD card and use an USB card reader to get the documents onto the computer. If you save them in RTF format, then you could read them with most any program on the computer. That would save carrying synchronization software with you and having to download that onto the computer.
If you really want to, you can also carry a laptop. People do it. Some swear by it... saying they can edit their photos, listen to music, write, edit videos... all in the comfort of their own room! It depends how much you want to work on it and how much you are willing to carry. Also, it depends how heavy your laptop is. So far, I haven't felt the need.
If you want a cheap small laptop, check out the Asus Eee PC. At $400 UDS and the size of a paperback, it seems like a great option. It's between PDA and a PC in functionality.
Resources:
Asus Eeee PC http://www.asus.com/products.aspx?l1=24
PortableApps: http://PortableApps.com
U3: http://U3.com
Democrakey: http://sourceforge.net/projects/democrakey/
Free Portable Software: http://portablefreeware.com
Traveling with a Palm: http://www.moxon.net/travel_tips/travelling_with_a_palmtop.html
If you only need to check email, there is no reason to bring anything with you. But if you have other work to do, such as writing, or office work, then you might want to consider some other options, such as portable flash drives, PDAs, or a laptop.
Another method is to use web-based services for your addresses, calendar, or simply to store information. For instance I usually save important numbers such as passport, visa, credit card, traveler's cheques in a draft email to myself on a web based email account. I've also emailed myself copies of Reiki manuals and certificates so I can download them and print them as needed if I teach on the road.
The next cheapest and lightest option is a USB travel drive. You can find 2 Gig models for well under $50 USD. If you have a camera, you might just get extra memory cards and a USB card reader. The USB drive will allow you to carry your data with you. I've used "U3" drives which come with proprietary software on them. U3 is a common platform for certain software applications that can travel on your travel drive. Another platform is PortableApps (http://portableapps.com) with a range of free open source software. The advantage of this is that you can have your photo editor, website builder, spreadsheet, wordprocessor, etc. software with you! You can also carry a web browser with all your favorites loaded. You can't always count on the internet cafes to have MS Word, or Adobe Photoshop, or.... whatever software you use. Carrying your own software on your USB drive will ensure you can open your documents when you need to. You can also get programs that store your important travel information in secure electronic form. By the way, security programs are also available to provide protection against viruses and spyware. Internet cafes can be havens for viruses and trojans, etc.
The amazing thing I have just discovered is the availability of good, free software. PortableApps.com is amazing! Mozilla Firefox internet browser's are available, along with Thunderbird email manager. PortableApps.com has a openoffice.org suite that parallels Microsoft Office with spreadsheet, database, word processor, graphic editor, etc. And these programs can read Microsoft's versions of your documents! There is even a free chat interface called Pidgin that can work with your AIM and Yahoo Messenger accounts. If you are concerned about covering your data trail, there are programs designed to leave no trace of your doings on the host computer. Check out Democrakey. You can also carry your own photo editor and uploader for managing your digital photos. Ifranview is a decent batch photo processor for resizing photos.
The U3 platform has quite a few free listings, but also many programs that you can buy. I've read mixed reviews about the U3 platform. So far I've enjoyed it and found it works OK.
Right now I have a Sandisk Micro 4G U3 travel drive, and I plan to get a cheap Kingston Traveler 4G for $25! It's likely not the fastest drive, but I can back up my other drive with it. I'm really excited that I can carry all my writings, addresses, and important documents with my favorite software on a thing smaller than my thumb! I'll put the two drives in an old pill bottle for protection. And will email documents to myself for backup.
If you can't bare the idea of going to an internet cafe whenever you need to write or do computer work, then you might consider a PDA or a laptop. You can find an old Palm 125 that works off of AA batteries and has an SD card slot for less than $75 USD. You could use a "smart phone", though if you want to use the phone without paying outlandish roaming charges, you need one with a replaceable SIM card. That and a portable keyboard could be a good way of writing on the road. You could save the documents on the SD card and use an USB card reader to get the documents onto the computer. If you save them in RTF format, then you could read them with most any program on the computer. That would save carrying synchronization software with you and having to download that onto the computer.
If you really want to, you can also carry a laptop. People do it. Some swear by it... saying they can edit their photos, listen to music, write, edit videos... all in the comfort of their own room! It depends how much you want to work on it and how much you are willing to carry. Also, it depends how heavy your laptop is. So far, I haven't felt the need.
If you want a cheap small laptop, check out the Asus Eee PC. At $400 UDS and the size of a paperback, it seems like a great option. It's between PDA and a PC in functionality.
Resources:
Asus Eeee PC http://www.asus.com/products.aspx?l1=24
PortableApps: http://PortableApps.com
U3: http://U3.com
Democrakey: http://sourceforge.net/projects/democrakey/
Free Portable Software: http://portablefreeware.com
Traveling with a Palm: http://www.moxon.net/travel_tips/travelling_with_a_palmtop.html
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Travel Tips: You are Packing for India?
A couple months ago, a friend asked me for gift suggestions for a friend of his that was going to India for three months.... this is what I wrote...
First let me say that the best recommendation I have ever read (yet never followed) is to bring a tiny student size backpack... because virtually everything you could need you can get in S.E. Asia. Unless you are trekking or mountaineering, there's not much need to bring things. It is so nice to travel with nothing! You can purchase clothing and most everything from yoga mats to shampoo cheaply once you are there.
The only real exception is high quality technical stuff for outdoor sports or electronic equipment. Such things may be cheaper if made locally or more expensive in S.E. Asia if imported and often of questionable quality. In India for example, there a locally made electronic goods that *might* work; they might not for long! If you want a proper Canon camera or Sony mp3 player, it will likely cost more than in the USA. Bangkok might have some good deals on the other hand.
As far as sports gear, in the cheap range, what you will mainly find is knockoffs of somewhat questionable quality. The knockoffs may be perfectly serviceable for limited use. They will likely be heavier. You sometime find legitimate name brand gear at prices similar to the USA.
The length and nature of your trip will impact what you want to take. If you are heading to India for a month only for the purpose of high altitude trekking in Ladakh, then you may want to take all your technical camping gear from home because high tech, lightweight, quality gear is hard to find there. Though you might be hiring ponies and guides and able to rent serviceable gear. On the other hand, if you are going to Nepal for a month of trekking on a route where teahouses abound, you might just take your sleeping bag, if that, and warm clothes. If you are heading off to India, Laos, and Thailand for 6 months to visit beaches and sight see and maybe going to the mountains, then you might take little beyond the clothes on your back and your camera or sketchbook. On such a trip, you could easily purchase or rent gear for a short trek if you wanted to sojourn in the mountains.
That being said, here are some ideas to consider (many of these I have listed in the "My Favorites" Amazon.com sidebar on this webpage):
Books: Lonely Planet Guidebook for the appropriate sections of India, Lonely Planet's Hindi Phrasebook (assuming you are visiting a Hindi area... it's the national language, but most regions have their own language as well... so if you were just going to the mountains, Nepali or Ladakhi might be more appropriate... I have heard that in the south, they resent speaking Hindi), William Suttcliffe's Are You Experienced is hilarious, and a book called Holy Cow is pretty good too. I have heard good things about Shantaram as well. Jeremy Seabrook's Love in a Different Climate is a good read about men's sexuality here.
Medicine/toiletries: most everything is available in India. Pharmacies usually don't require a prescription and would have all the basic needs. I find psyllium and charcoal tablets helpful for regulating traveler's diarrhea Psyllium is called Isabgol in India; charcoal can be harder to find. Some people like grapefruit seed extract (that is not available in India). I like EmergenC vitamin sachets and they would be one thing I would consider bringing with me.
There is a local brand in India called Himalaya products that has herbal medicines that are quite good... even a herbal hand sanitizer. A small first aid kit like available in REI with bandaids/iodine/antiseptic wipes might be useful. Travel packs of baby wipes might be useful... though doing your business like the locals (sans toilet paper) is usually very clean.
Good sandals like Teva's are the most useful footwear I have found. Unless I am high up in the mountains, that is all I wear. There are cheap local knockoff's available in India which I am liking better than Teva's now that I have found them... but Teva's would still be a good thing.
I find it useful to have a decent padlock... I like a simple Master's combination lock like we used in high school gym. That way I don't have to worry about carrying keys, and the asian padlocks supplied by the guesthouse don't seem so secure.
A sleep sack like you get for hostels... or a big comfy one for camping, but avoid the mummy bag liner cause it would be constricting ... could be nice so you don't have to rely on guest house linens.
A funny thing I would love to remember to bring for Varanasi is a gag/joke hand buzzer. The massage guys on the ghats come up and "shake" your hand and start massaging it trying to get you to pay them for a hand massage.
A water filter or purification tablets. The first time I came I brought a water bottle with built in filter. It was nice not to have to buy bottled water all the time. I got one this time, but it puts iodine in the water all the time and tastes crappy so I don't use it. There is an electric purifier called SteriPen available at REI that I think would be really good. This trip I have been drinking local water with no problem... but many traveler's wouldn't be that brave. Another idea would be just to have some water purification tablets for emergency use. Most tourist areas have bottled water (that may or may not be safe) available. That's what most tourists drink.
A money belt is highly recommended for your valuables. And to keep a spare stash of emergency cash someplace else than the moneybelt along with list of traveler's check no's, credit card no.s, etc. Some peeps like to have a zippered/lockable backpack as well.
That's all I can think of.
First let me say that the best recommendation I have ever read (yet never followed) is to bring a tiny student size backpack... because virtually everything you could need you can get in S.E. Asia. Unless you are trekking or mountaineering, there's not much need to bring things. It is so nice to travel with nothing! You can purchase clothing and most everything from yoga mats to shampoo cheaply once you are there.
The only real exception is high quality technical stuff for outdoor sports or electronic equipment. Such things may be cheaper if made locally or more expensive in S.E. Asia if imported and often of questionable quality. In India for example, there a locally made electronic goods that *might* work; they might not for long! If you want a proper Canon camera or Sony mp3 player, it will likely cost more than in the USA. Bangkok might have some good deals on the other hand.
As far as sports gear, in the cheap range, what you will mainly find is knockoffs of somewhat questionable quality. The knockoffs may be perfectly serviceable for limited use. They will likely be heavier. You sometime find legitimate name brand gear at prices similar to the USA.
The length and nature of your trip will impact what you want to take. If you are heading to India for a month only for the purpose of high altitude trekking in Ladakh, then you may want to take all your technical camping gear from home because high tech, lightweight, quality gear is hard to find there. Though you might be hiring ponies and guides and able to rent serviceable gear. On the other hand, if you are going to Nepal for a month of trekking on a route where teahouses abound, you might just take your sleeping bag, if that, and warm clothes. If you are heading off to India, Laos, and Thailand for 6 months to visit beaches and sight see and maybe going to the mountains, then you might take little beyond the clothes on your back and your camera or sketchbook. On such a trip, you could easily purchase or rent gear for a short trek if you wanted to sojourn in the mountains.
That being said, here are some ideas to consider (many of these I have listed in the "My Favorites" Amazon.com sidebar on this webpage):
Books: Lonely Planet Guidebook for the appropriate sections of India, Lonely Planet's Hindi Phrasebook (assuming you are visiting a Hindi area... it's the national language, but most regions have their own language as well... so if you were just going to the mountains, Nepali or Ladakhi might be more appropriate... I have heard that in the south, they resent speaking Hindi), William Suttcliffe's Are You Experienced is hilarious, and a book called Holy Cow is pretty good too. I have heard good things about Shantaram as well. Jeremy Seabrook's Love in a Different Climate is a good read about men's sexuality here.
Medicine/toiletries: most everything is available in India. Pharmacies usually don't require a prescription and would have all the basic needs. I find psyllium and charcoal tablets helpful for regulating traveler's diarrhea Psyllium is called Isabgol in India; charcoal can be harder to find. Some people like grapefruit seed extract (that is not available in India). I like EmergenC vitamin sachets and they would be one thing I would consider bringing with me.
There is a local brand in India called Himalaya products that has herbal medicines that are quite good... even a herbal hand sanitizer. A small first aid kit like available in REI with bandaids/iodine/antiseptic wipes might be useful. Travel packs of baby wipes might be useful... though doing your business like the locals (sans toilet paper) is usually very clean.
Good sandals like Teva's are the most useful footwear I have found. Unless I am high up in the mountains, that is all I wear. There are cheap local knockoff's available in India which I am liking better than Teva's now that I have found them... but Teva's would still be a good thing.
I find it useful to have a decent padlock... I like a simple Master's combination lock like we used in high school gym. That way I don't have to worry about carrying keys, and the asian padlocks supplied by the guesthouse don't seem so secure.
A sleep sack like you get for hostels... or a big comfy one for camping, but avoid the mummy bag liner cause it would be constricting ... could be nice so you don't have to rely on guest house linens.
A funny thing I would love to remember to bring for Varanasi is a gag/joke hand buzzer. The massage guys on the ghats come up and "shake" your hand and start massaging it trying to get you to pay them for a hand massage.
A water filter or purification tablets. The first time I came I brought a water bottle with built in filter. It was nice not to have to buy bottled water all the time. I got one this time, but it puts iodine in the water all the time and tastes crappy so I don't use it. There is an electric purifier called SteriPen available at REI that I think would be really good. This trip I have been drinking local water with no problem... but many traveler's wouldn't be that brave. Another idea would be just to have some water purification tablets for emergency use. Most tourist areas have bottled water (that may or may not be safe) available. That's what most tourists drink.
A money belt is highly recommended for your valuables. And to keep a spare stash of emergency cash someplace else than the moneybelt along with list of traveler's check no's, credit card no.s, etc. Some peeps like to have a zippered/lockable backpack as well.
That's all I can think of.
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