I landed in Ahmedabad and walked out the main doors to about a dozen taxi drivers all clammoring for my attention. What a lively welcome! "Sir!! Do you need a taxi?!" "Well... yes, I guess I do." "Where are you going?" "I don't know." "What is the name of your hotel?" "I don't have a hotel."
This dialogue was then repeated about three times and after many confused expressions and much bantering back and forth between them, the decision was made that they would drop me off in the middle of the city. I agreed. And so after being taken to the city center I began to walk with my violin in one hand and my rolling backpack following behind.
15 minutes later I was approached by a student on a motorcycle. He was smiling and happy to see me and asked what I was doing. I told him I came to say hi to India, play violin for them and visit the yogis. He asked me to play. After a quick show for about 20-30 people he took me to several other places to play. Then he asked if I wanted to smoke some hash. I declined so he handed me off to one of his friends who offered to take me to see an ashram with children studying Sanskrit. On the way he asked if I wanted to see his house. He had called ahead so when we arrived his mother and sister were waiting there so excited to meet me.
After a little visit and a mini concert they asked me to stay with them and I have now been living there for these past few days. The entire family has truly adopted me. The mother gets upset if I try to help with any chores and there faces contort with disgust when I offer to pay them rent. They pay for my bus tickets and most of my food, which by the way has not been my typical raw cuizine. I keep insisting that I am a fruitarian and so they oblige me with fruit salads but then during their mealtime I have found Indian hospitality too persuasive and persistent to resist. It feels like I would be crushing them to stand firm and so I eat. And it is lovely. The flavors are delicious and the feeling of family is so comforting. And of course my body suffers a bit; it has not had cooked food for nearly 5 years. But their faces are so happy when I eat with them. I think it is worth it for the short term.
I am so happy I did not follow the common path and wind up in some hotel room completely cut off from the people. I have a family and their entire network helping me at every turn. I feel loved and taken care of, albeit, a bit too much at times. In many ways I am a child here because everything is so new. When crossing the streets I must have my hand held, literally. The traffic rules are like nothing I am accustomed to. We walk right out into the middle of speeding cars, motorcycles and scooters who all honk and swerve to miss us. It feels dangerous but I have become convinced I could close my eyes and walk accross safely though I have no plans of proving this idea.
On driving and buses
The driver must convince everyone that he has no regard for human life and then make sure that when his bluff is called, which as almost never, that no-one actually gets hurt. Driving here takes total and undivided focus. It is the ultimate video game. And though it seems insane and intense, the pressure is very superfiscial. There is an ever-present caring here and it is evident even on the roads. Drivers are constantly forgiving the sins of others here. Everyone is taken care of even if they receive the severest of horn beeping.
On affection
I discoverd that Gujerat is the most devout of all the states of India. The population of vegetarians here is almost 100% with the only exception found in the hotels for visitors. There is a cleaness here, not in the outward landscape but in the hearts of the people. Their childlike nievity and innocense is so refreshing. Men are able to hold hands and walk with their arms around one another and no one is afraid that these displays of affction will be misread as anything more than friendship.
During my tour of Ghandiji's ashram I was sad to remember our cold condition when only 1 of three white couples would look at me let alone return my greeting. The Indian people are very warm and loving. Almost all of them look me directly in my eyes and greet me with an adorable head bobble. I love it here and find that I am able to overlook the poverty and outward filth which resides side by side with the feelings of love and heart felt kindness of the people.
Saddness
It is a sad thing for me to see American television here on their sets. It speaks to me of the almost certain inevitability of the corruption of their most valuable assett.
On yoga
The whole world is doing yoga, except India.
This dialogue was then repeated about three times and after many confused expressions and much bantering back and forth between them, the decision was made that they would drop me off in the middle of the city. I agreed. And so after being taken to the city center I began to walk with my violin in one hand and my rolling backpack following behind.
15 minutes later I was approached by a student on a motorcycle. He was smiling and happy to see me and asked what I was doing. I told him I came to say hi to India, play violin for them and visit the yogis. He asked me to play. After a quick show for about 20-30 people he took me to several other places to play. Then he asked if I wanted to smoke some hash. I declined so he handed me off to one of his friends who offered to take me to see an ashram with children studying Sanskrit. On the way he asked if I wanted to see his house. He had called ahead so when we arrived his mother and sister were waiting there so excited to meet me.
After a little visit and a mini concert they asked me to stay with them and I have now been living there for these past few days. The entire family has truly adopted me. The mother gets upset if I try to help with any chores and there faces contort with disgust when I offer to pay them rent. They pay for my bus tickets and most of my food, which by the way has not been my typical raw cuizine. I keep insisting that I am a fruitarian and so they oblige me with fruit salads but then during their mealtime I have found Indian hospitality too persuasive and persistent to resist. It feels like I would be crushing them to stand firm and so I eat. And it is lovely. The flavors are delicious and the feeling of family is so comforting. And of course my body suffers a bit; it has not had cooked food for nearly 5 years. But their faces are so happy when I eat with them. I think it is worth it for the short term.
I am so happy I did not follow the common path and wind up in some hotel room completely cut off from the people. I have a family and their entire network helping me at every turn. I feel loved and taken care of, albeit, a bit too much at times. In many ways I am a child here because everything is so new. When crossing the streets I must have my hand held, literally. The traffic rules are like nothing I am accustomed to. We walk right out into the middle of speeding cars, motorcycles and scooters who all honk and swerve to miss us. It feels dangerous but I have become convinced I could close my eyes and walk accross safely though I have no plans of proving this idea.
On driving and buses
The driver must convince everyone that he has no regard for human life and then make sure that when his bluff is called, which as almost never, that no-one actually gets hurt. Driving here takes total and undivided focus. It is the ultimate video game. And though it seems insane and intense, the pressure is very superfiscial. There is an ever-present caring here and it is evident even on the roads. Drivers are constantly forgiving the sins of others here. Everyone is taken care of even if they receive the severest of horn beeping.
On affection
I discoverd that Gujerat is the most devout of all the states of India. The population of vegetarians here is almost 100% with the only exception found in the hotels for visitors. There is a cleaness here, not in the outward landscape but in the hearts of the people. Their childlike nievity and innocense is so refreshing. Men are able to hold hands and walk with their arms around one another and no one is afraid that these displays of affction will be misread as anything more than friendship.
During my tour of Ghandiji's ashram I was sad to remember our cold condition when only 1 of three white couples would look at me let alone return my greeting. The Indian people are very warm and loving. Almost all of them look me directly in my eyes and greet me with an adorable head bobble. I love it here and find that I am able to overlook the poverty and outward filth which resides side by side with the feelings of love and heart felt kindness of the people.
Saddness
It is a sad thing for me to see American television here on their sets. It speaks to me of the almost certain inevitability of the corruption of their most valuable assett.
On yoga
The whole world is doing yoga, except India.
