Journal of india, starting now!

J&M

yeah - where's he gone? I was reading his posts and it took me back to my time there last year which seems so long ago now..... boo hoo.....

Nick-H

Did someone say Bihar?

Maybe we'll next hear of him moving his cattle into the State Chief Minister's house!

He certainly seems able to look after himself

8al0ha8

Should I be worried???

PeakXV

Never been to remote Bihar but I would reckon that the Communications & Internet Portals are not so easy to access there! I'm sure he'll surface in a day or two!

__________________
What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us.
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

Don't go to India ~ Pre-trip Warnings & Misconceptions?

lotus blossom

i've been missing our friend Wazen's posts too. like nick says, he seems pretty able to take care, in what he describes as some pretty interesting situations.

__________________
Not all who wander are lost

elinter

Wazen's been in touch with family in last couple days. Still traveling around, so think we should hear something soon.

8al0ha8

Oh? Do you know Wazen? If you do and know hes ok thats cool...I was starting to worry. Just prayin he stays safe....

MeCasa

I'm sure he's OK, although it can be tough worrying for someone you care about

Good posts Wazen, brought me smiles

alext

This thread is just brilliant to read. Thanks for everyone additions - especially obviously Wazen!

I was in Bihar last year. Bodhgaya is cool but what very little I saw of the rest of it I didn't care for at all.

Wazen

My friends, famiy (Dad im taking your elinter?), and also kate, Thank you for all the kind words, support and hope. Inernet access has been minimal during the last 10 days since posting. Inda is tightening its grip around my heart and daily life, more and more as the time passes by all to quickly. For this, my only regeret is not posting sooner, as the experences are beyond the boundries of description, detailed memories fleeting as each day passes, remarkably, leaving an everlasting impression on my soul.
As if the hand of India touched my heart, and its fingerprint permanently consecrated through our coupled virtue. (It is a pilgrimage after all!)
At the moment three hours of typing are paid for...now where to begin!

An all nighter over the ghats of varanasi was a perfect gooddbye. Alone with the silent night, resting on the balcony overlooking the ghats, the smell of the burning dead and its sweet perfume scented wood, A chillum and only 4 hours until 4:00 am...
The night was beautiful, monkeys joined me from the railing above, and soon started throwing a little poo at me, hissing to scare away my peaceful presence. Laughing siltently and switching chairs, they soon fell asleep, and as time passed by quickly, the hotel staff was woken up and forced to unlock the front doors, hesitantly, to let me into the dark alleys of Varanasi's city...

Electricity in part of the city was down. Without a flashlight, finding the main road, and avoiding cow shit would be impossible. Knowing the dark energy thats everpresent in Varanasi's ghat-side, I was prepared for a little excitement around every corner!
Releif struck to find the main road with 1 and 1/2 hours till train departure, a safe time incase I need to walk the distance.. At this earrly hour, the main road was empty.. Off in the distance, a Chai Stand where many cycle rickshaw drivers were gathering for a morning tea.
"who want to take me to the train station for 30rs?" (3x the normal price!)
Everyone was hesitant.. But one old man agreed, on the condition that we drink chai first. Amen for Breakfast!

Without street lights, how could this old man even see the road that he peddled me through? The air was cold, pitchblack with an erie atmosphere, potholes unseen and the journey rough. The man detures into some alleys, and it seems that he may be drunk, or lost, or going the wrong way. This surely wasnt the straight path to the station... He kept looking back and smiling, until we came to halt for a HUGE truck blocking the path, in the middle of these tiny alleys! The driver argues for 10 minutes for the truck to move, and ends up turning back...
The alleys got denser and darker, seemingly further away from the train station. I was getting worried, as now 30 minutes past..
So I busted out my flashlight and lit the way a little...

Suddenly a pack of stray dogs woke up and were really angry at the moving light and the rickshaws squeeky sound..
They started to run after us, barking violently and growling, attacking both of us!! The old man starts peedling his ass off as the dogs try to snap at his moving legs and my feet.
"AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!" We screamed bloody murder together as the pack grew into atleast 7 dogs, trying to ward them away with our yelling. Kicked into high gear, human instinct taking our voices to another level, we barely escaped the hungry pack!!!!
Laugter filled the air as we busted out with excitement, hollering at the wild night, grins ear to ear, happy to have made it out okay...Our energy connected.
Soon we were at the train station, arriving with a nice tip for our adventure, and time to hit up Kushinagar, where the great Buddah died!

The train station was like a homeless shelter. Walking over hundereds of bodies that sleep on the cold cement floor was like playing leap frog.
The train, naturally, was late, and by the time we departed, the sun was up and shining. Dont know, dont care what class I am in, the lack of sleep had me wasted. The first cart seen was therefor the best option! With metal seats, and metal-bar racks above for luggage, I did a little gettoh action and slept above on the luggage racks for the 5-6 hours to Gorakapur. Just my luck, some before hand converstion with locals, thankfully, was my alarm clock, as I would have slept the whole way back to Varanasi!


-----KUSHINAGAR-------

It didnt take long to find a bus to Kushinagar.
A few hours later the fully packed buss stoped at the front gate of this very small village, and following my instincts, proceeded down the most well-trodden road by foot.
Checked out a few places to sleep, and ended up at the Chineese temple, first and most obvious, for 200rs a night. Their garden was beautiful, peaceful, and the town quiet with only 2 resturants. A very small village it was, and easy to navigate with the little daylight left to spare. Walking to the Reclining Buddha statue, the most symbolic representation to our Japaneese temple(!), was filled with Pilgrims from all ovr the world.
Tibet, Bhutan, Nepal, but no tourists at all...Everyone here was a pilgrim, the town emanating with an unexplainable energy, Kushinagar is a magical place!
Walking a little futher, soon appeared a simple man with a Chai stand, situtated infront of the temple he cares for alone. Some Cahi, conversation, smiles and laughs, within minutes his vibe was a good one...
"Lets meet tomorow"...... "okay!"

Waking up early to start the day,
walking past his chai stand with hours to spare,
an old home with endess sugarcane feilds had thier family working hard to make raw, brown sugar sweets... The scenery reminded me of my roots and past: From Japan to Hawaii my great grandmother traveled alone in 1897, looking for work in the sugar cane feilds, which eventually brought me into budhism through family tradition.
"HELLO, COME!!" waving me to join them, offering a seat infront of three big tubs, dug into the ground, where the process of converting freshly cut sugar cane into raw sugar takes place. Each hole contained a different color of sugar extract, and the end product was suggar balls, gifted to me by the handfull!
The sweetest, freshest sugar I ever had in my life!!
So much to eat, but disrespectful to do otherwise, I chowed it all down, and that much sugar in the morning isnt easy to stomach!

"Ciggerette??"
"Jee!".... Handing away to five adults at this home, some expensive goldflake ciggerettes, which a pack cost half a days wage, but 50 cents to me! Although I dont smoke tobacco much, and actually dont like it remember this in India:
YOU WILL come into situations with nothing to give in return for great amounts of generousity (but money, which isnt cool). Ciggerettes are always appreciated by most!!

Continuing down the road, a huge stupa appeared in a grassy feild, far from the hotel. This is where Buddha was cremated. Words do no justice for the graditude and love that instantly took control. Walking around the stupa, with prayer in my heart, three bows are offered and tears are held back. The Mahaparinvirana Sutra, my beliefs, are held withing this land.
Praise to god and the love of all living thigs.

Walking back toward to Chai stand to meet my new friend, some Indian college students kindly diverted my into thier home, and offered me, again, a handful of Raw Sugar.. Accepting this gift, grateful to the love of this land and its people, our time was limited and our experience buffered by our language barrier. Leaving with a smile and hands in Namaste, the experience was wonderful. For the first time, people of India opened up thier heart to me.
Hating to admit this, it was hard to accept and understand at the time, the heart of sharing with barely anything to give at all, especially after all the touts and being taken advantage of many times, over and over...

And as time went on, my travels only revealed the purity that India contains, when acts like these go beyond anything experienced in life, which will change my life and perspective forever..

Making it to the Chai shop on time, my friend brewed some tasty chai, made with fresh Buffalo Milk(!) from his very own buffalos! Sipping on a new tasty treat, in the holiest of land, these small things makes life grand, and in India, this train of thought is a way of life.

"Get on, sit!" as my new friend and his brother hop on thier motor cycle. Three of us drive through the country side, not knowing where we are going, and it really didnt matter to me! Riding for an hour, passing a buring body on the side of a small bridge where a rural family is mourning, we enter an off-the-map town in search of his chemist, but first some Samosa's and Chai!A quick stop at your typical clay stove, wood fire, dirt floor, straw hut Chai Stand on the side of the road. This is where the BEST chai, and food is found! Ridng arund on the country side was unreal. It was easy to imagine buddah walking the same path, and the streches of feilds and forest are majestic with low laying fog, a veil over the distant trees.

Returning to Kushinagar in the afternoon to his temple/chai stand, my friend wants to show me something special. A real cutting from the bodhi tree off the beaten path. A short 5 minute walk through the mustard feilds filled with sweet fresh air and a quiet ambience. Then it hit me....
That familiar smell! I looked around, and leading to the Bodhi tree was wild Cannabis plants everywhere! So unbelieveable! From then on, there was an awareness of how Cannabis grows wild everywhere between Kushinagar to Vaishali!!! However being early season, they were not flowering, and those that were, are either male or hermie, or the hemp variety.

My friend can speak 5 languages, and proved his Japanese the next day, as a guide for some Japan tourists. A smart educated man, living poor as a temple care taker / chai maker, he also claimed to be a buddhist priest, after all he did live in the ONE and only room at the small temple. But he wasnt like most monks/priests. He was your normal man, and an example of the Mahaparinirvana sutra: Buddhas last teaching. I asked him about smoking Ganja, as it is in violation on the five vows, and the only one I dont follow...
He was cool with it, and shared his knowledge of Hindu belief, and his own.
So I packed a chillum for us....
"BOOM SHANKAR!!!!!"

Time to retire, and meet again the next day...Tonight luck was on my side, for tap water was waiting for me at the hotel, the first time in 3 days!!! It was hot water too!
Praise Jah, for even cold tap water is luxury in India, as most bathe in dirty brown lakes and filthy ponds. Then it was apparent, the Indian lifestyle is embracing my once western values and spoiled way of life..
I feel this is a gift from the Buddha, a wonderful lesson through experience.

The next day at 8 am, a thick fog covered the town. Flowers just paces away were hidden by the mist, it was so beautiful!
Onto the main road, two men bigger than me, rididng a motorcycle, approach me through the fog..
With evil eyes, and very bad energy he demanded money.
"who are you?" I asked...
"GIVE MONEY NOW!"...
He was ready to get off the bike and scrap, I could tell.
"No money, sorry" and I walked off..
They slowly follow me and circle the main road back and forth, passing by over and over demanding money.
Secretly I took out my swiss army knife which has a cork screw pertruding from the thick grip, which makes a hard fist with a corck screw steming between my middle and ring finger. A nice defense, but im so sorry to say, bad karma.
After he approaches me one more time, knowing he could do some damage, I sright up tell him to his face "Look boy, you aint getting shit from me you understand?". Back home, that would have been a fight right then and there, but they just took off with an evil look and evil laugh. Never saw them again.
I felt so bad, coming on a pilgrimage to the most holy land, and almost busting out a potentially deadly weapon, because of my fear, my karma..

continuing toward the stupa to pray and pay respects, and appologise for my actions, some kids stop me and hand me a stick... "Indian tooth brush!"
They were chewing this raw stick until its bristled, then scrubbing thier teeth with it. They cant afford a real tooth brush, so this is prevelent and the best method available. The taste was nasty, but I gladly accepted and gave much thanks. 200 meters later the same kid comes running after me...
"Indian toothbrush 10 rupees!!"...
I laugh and hand him the stick back with a smile. The kid walks away mad, swearing in Hindi. What a trip!

To the Chai stand to meet my friend, he first takes me to his home, down a tiny dirt road hidden within the felids. Some houses were brick, others straw and claw. Two buffalos whos milk I enjoyed was intoduced, as well as his family, which was typically big, inculding his grandfather who is over 100 years old!
His mother serves us some lunch, veg curry with rice and all kinds of side dishes, including FRESH, raw buffalo milk from their land! Real home style indian food is priceless, and sooooo goood.
Afterwards, we take a 1 hour journey to his "brothers sister's house" in the middle of no where!! Riding down narow dirt roads between mustard and vegetable feilds, Cannabis everywhere in huge patches, it was the most beautiful country side I have yet to see in India. Weaving between old straw and brick houses, it was an extremely rurual part of India. A pure country lifestyle with a population of about 300.
Surrounded by 20 people at first, staring with bank looks and no english, is the common greeting for me, so im used to it by now. Soon after a beautiful Indian girl, my age, presented me with chai after chai, crackers, cookies, Indian sweets, sugar cane, more Indian sweets, overfeeding me with hospitality!...
The only bad thing? Out here, there is no bottled water. Even in the surrounding towns of Kushinagar of decent size, there is no bottled water. Soon my friend left me for "just a litte while", and took off with his motorcycle, leaving me alone with his family, who spoke no english, for 3 hours!!! Thirsty, scared to drink the tap water, mental and physical exhaustion, the day was turining into night, and the situation got a little intimidating. But I kept good faith, lots of smiles, and soon my friend returned with a present!! A FRESH GREEN PRESENT!!! Only 100rs for a handful, it was a cool, straight up deal, and Jah provided when I was almost out of my presents! AchaGanjah, Praise Jah!

We smoked a ciggertte full, it was really mellow and happy, and I patiently waited until the sun set to leave. But then things got sketchy!!
Somehow under the muffled influence of happiness-induced natural mystic, the words "American Green Card", "Visa", "marrage", and "you like this girl?"...

F**K!!!!.....

Letting the converstion flow until a respetful amount of silence was que for the big question...
"Can you please take me to my hotel?".. He agreed, and we both enjoyed the long journey back heading into an Indian Orange sunset.

Reaching his chai stand, and owed 400 Rupees change from the Personal Gift he sold me, he was hesitant to honor our agreement it seemed. After asking 4 times, telling him "just 300rupees, keep 100 for Petrol", he handed me what I wanted.
But I stil had an obligation to have dinner all the way back at the rural village we just departed.
Not knowing what to think or feel, the thin line between genuinity and buisness was too thin to comprehend. Another mispoken truth was his "bother owned my hotel, so my 8pm cerfew didnt matter".
I returned to freshen up at the hotel, while my friend waited outside. Thinking hard about the situation and walking to the street where he was stadning, my heart told him that I was very very tired, havent slept in a long time, and would like to just go to sleep.
He seemed very sad, and I asked 3 times if I offended him, with the same "yes" reply to each question. I felt bad, but was intimadated by the situation, and needed to decline. I promised to meet him early the net day at his temple, before leaving this town of Kushinagar.
Later that night, after he left, I asked the management if his brother owned the hotel..
"This place is owned by a woman from America" he replied.....

I wanted to get out of the town, but I felt I owed the respect to atleast say goodbye to this man, and respectfully call him on his assumed bullshit.
When arriving at his chai stand, another westerner traveling alone was sharing some tea.
A little later I decided to visit the home of Chunda, who gave the last offering to buddha, since I couldent leave the town today. My friend insisted he come with me, although I was already feeling like he was a fake. He walked me to the bus stand to help me out with the directions, and actually escort me to the village. Soon the westerner met earlier today showed up, so we invited him along.
Into a little village off the map, sharing some fish and samosas with chai, we were ready to walk to the escavation site. Wasnt anything special at first look, but spiritually, it was amazing. Muslim women in a trance like state sat around the ruins chanting and moving like under a spell. It was a trip to watch..
After an hour we retired to an expensive beer, treated our Indian friend to one, and he got wasted like nothing!.
A bus was needed to return, and there was no room for us inside the first bus leaving to Kushinagar...
....
Then my dream came true...
WE GOT TO RIDE ON THE ROOF OF AN INDIAN BUS!!
10 feet climbing up the parked buss, and my camera falls down!!
OH MY GOD!! Praise the lord, it took the abuse, and still works perfectly! Its as if the Karma of this pilgramage is watching over my soul.
The bus ride back was one long smile. We were like the kings of a parade as the bus slowly drove down the paved road. Villagers waving to us from all over, some waved at by us only to stare with blank looks in return, followed by laughter shared between we solo travelers.
Ending the ride early, we walked through a short cut in the green feilds, our drunken indian friend as our happy guide, until we came to a small, shallow river that flows behind the cremation site of Buddha. It was said Buddha took his last bath and drank his last sips of water from this river, which was very clean and clear.
Taking our shoes and socks off, we walked across this sacred, unknown river with our barefeet, knowing how lucky, how precious it is, to have walked the same path as the world honored one.
Smoking a Bidi and letting our feet dry, within 5 minutes we made it back to the Temple/Chai stand. A chilum was passed around between the three of us, my westerner friend partaking for the first time in years (what is it about people not smoking for years, then meeting me and ASKING to smoke??)
The night was young, but our strength drained. Dinner time was soon, so we all ate a last meal together at the best (1 of 2) resturants in the town.
Sadly, I hate to admit this, but my Indian friends integrity was resting on his own bill. To my amazement, he paid for hiself, as we all did, and at that moment I knew he was a cool person. I prased him, gave him my love and thanks, hands in Namaste, and wished them both well...

Time to get up and catch the 8:00am buss to Kesyria, where the #2 largets buddhist stupa is!!(sp?)

elinter

Yes, I've known him since the day he was born

Wazen

Not wanting to bactrack, and with lack of advice from even the TOURIST INFO CNTER in Kushinagr, I took my Indian friends advice and caught a bus into a place off the Lonely Planet map yet again, into a place called Gopalganj.
The bus ride sucked, I stood the entire 3 hours, and when I reached this town to transfer busses, there was NO bottled water anywhere in this seemingly large town. I guess no tourists ever come here.
Man I need some food... So the first Dabba looked best. "Veg Curry, no Chicken, please"
He makes me a plate of chicken curry, spicy, good, and served with some tap water. At this moment I broke two rules. Eating the chicken in India, and drinkng the tap water!
However, eating with obvious dirty hands, scooping the food into my mouth with filthy fingers, has become more routine than disgusting. Infact I wil NEVER eat Indian food with utensils again!! The right hand is more efficient and easier!
Soon as the meal was done, the transfer bus was leaving toward Kesariya's enterance, again off the map, an unknown second way to reach Kesariya...
The locals had a certain name for the village, perhaps there is two names and the LP lists only one name....?
A tempo to the town tok me only so far, so I walked about 2 miles until a huge stupa appeared in the middle of nowhere. I still had no botted water, no food, and it was too late to get a bus ride out! Not only that, Kesariya has NO hotels at all.
Time to rough it and camp under the stars!!! Climbing the tall stupa and finding a flat area was like hevan. Above the danger, alone with India, it was everthing I wanted, but not what god had planned for me... God needed to teach me a lesson...
Some of the attendants of the deserted monument wouldent leave me alone. "YOU CANT SLEEP HERE". But I had no where to sleep or go, and only a bed tent and blanket. They offered me a room at the office to crach, and I gladly accepted. Within 5 minutes I was knocked out. The sun was barely setting and the night young. Soon they woke me up with samosas and crackers for some food. I was so grateful to have food and shelter.
But I couldent stay there, for it was a problem against government policy. They took me to the police station, and I was afraid. The police took all my information, questioned me about everything, and fell short of searching my bags, thank the gods!
The head cheif knew my situation, and told me "You can sleep at my house tonight".
Next to his bedroom was a little waiting room. Some officers moved in a old ply-wood bench with a blanket covering its hard surface, this was my bed.
Then they brought me food, lots of food, and I couldent even finish it all. The water again was tap water, and being forced to survive off the ground water in India was a little scarry, as dysentery kept pestering my conscience.. The head chief sat withme and talked about his life...
He had barely anything, worked 24 hours a day 7 days a week, on call, and could only visit his dying wife in Patna (100km away) once a month. He had children, but can rarely see them becuase he must work so hard to support them. His life was simple, and his bed not much better than mine. He makes roughly $15USD for 24 hours of work per day.
So little did he own, yet so much to give, he was the most genuine person I have met in India. All he asked was that I make Puja (prayers) for his wife. That night I offered prayers from the monk-only chapter of my prayer book, for his wife. Graditude toward his kind heart, the buddah, and the little he had to give made tears run down my face..
In the morning, I awoke to breakfast and warm fresh milk. We had a nice conversation, and were about to part ways, for I must continue to Vaishali and the bus departs within 30 minutes.
Looking him in his eyes I spoke from the heart, and my words were a reflection of his heart, in praise for his blessings...
Loading up onto the bus, its time to travel through the dirt, pot-holed roads to Vaishali, where the journey penetrates deeper into the mystery that India has planned for me. From here on, the pigramage is insane!
5 hours and 150 ruppes later, I am ony half way done with my journal of the last 10 days. Forgive the delay!
Aloha

PRIYA

Beautifully written Wazen........truly the essence of India!!! Keep those posts coming.

__________________
Happiness is for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched and those who have tried. For only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. (Anon.)

Wazen

Kesariya to Vaishali!


Buddha spent some time here, preaching his knowledge!
Feeling partially enlightened after encountering whole hearted acts of a buddha nature, the worse road ever traveled still brought and endless smile to my face. The bus traveled through the back roads, which was one gigantic pot hole. Little Cannabis plants boarderd the road side everywhere. The sweet smell of Ganja, urine, vegetable feilds, cows, wooden stoves and spices filled the air as we travled through the most country part of India seen yet.
Straw huts, remote villages, clear skies and palm trees emerging from the tall grasslands brings day dreams of wild tigers lurking, the exotic india known in old movies.. The scenery was beautiful, and only estinguished when the normal happens: Indians cant help to start a conversation with a foriegner, even if you have earphones on! Its almost impossible to listen to an entire song without being forced into a barely unerstandable, 30 minute conversation about god knows what!
But this bus trip wasnt too bad, and a few cd's worth of music went undisturbed, though looking at the passangers every so often, I could tell they were itchen to talk to me! Ariving at Vaishali, the first thought was "HUH?, this cant be Vaihali!"
This town is the smallest place I ever been to. Not one resturant! Only samosa's, crackers, and botted water. The first and best hotel in the small area was the Shri Lanka guest house, by donation only. The LP listed hotel, the only one, was practiclly deserted.
Got a sweet private bath, 2 beds, cold water showers, and CLEAN standards. Food is free here too!
My next 2 days in Vaishali, I lived off of $1.50, plus a nice donation!
First priority was water, so I made the treck in search of something in a bottle...
A huge crowd stood in the middle of a dirt feild, and called me over to join them.
It was a musical Movie in action! THE MOST SEXY, BEAUTIFUL Indian girl I have ever layed eyes on, dressed in a sexy purple Indian dress, belly button flat and exposed, I fell inlove instantly.
Hard work for them all, cut! cut! cut! No good!
An hour was spent fogeting about thirst, and imagining what it would be like to have such a woman. She was dancing with grace, shaking her hips, flowing arm and hand movements to Indian music, nothing like I have ever seen before. I was in love
Soon the director stopped and greeted me, proud to have a new guest! Everyone, hundreds of villagers surrounded me in awe of a wierd foriegn face..
Ofcourse, Indian hospitaity is formost in Bihar, so it seems, although it is "the most lawless state". Offerd lunch that I cant refuse. Teaching me how to eat with my hands the proper Indian way, using the thumb topush the food into your mouth, they wanted me to feed the beautiful girl from my hand!! I declined to be polite, but later found it was a customary to feed someone with your hand, atleast in this town..
The whole movie set gang took me to thier studio, fed me lunch, sang for me, took 20 pictures, and made me sing American songs! I busted out with some Bob Marley and Sublime tunes known by heart, and they werent impressed, for Indians have amazing voices.
After hours of hanging out, and a little caution/suspicion from my side, everything worked out perfectly, and they left before nighttime to finish thier work.
That night I met an Indian guide from Ladakh, my age, and we shared hours of religious conversation. We opened up to eachother, told things that no one else knows about. Of course, being born and raised in Jammu area, I had to ask about the hash there!
He hasnt smoked in years, gave it up, but after our conversation, he asked me to smoke him out with my chillum! We got so stoned, shook hands, parted ways to remember our good times together, forever..

The next day was even crazier!! MY GOD! But I gota go now, its been 6 hours of typing! Im so broke! hahaha!! Right now I am in Bohdgaya, and have many places to talk about....
Aloha everyone!

Nick-H

Phew.... think I'd better catch up with this when the wife is out