My life is my message

This was one of the most powerful places in India for me. Let me paint the picture. It was a beautiful sunny day in Ahmedabad. My bonita friend Jimena and I had just visited the offices of a company that I have done work with and it was my first real international business experience. We took a tuk tuk to Gandhi's Ashram and after entering, I noticed a sunny peace shining down over everything. I walked the walls of the museum, drinking in the messages that Gandhi and his family / friends experienced as a community. I had a few students come up and get me to sign a book of theirs, reporting that they saw a Canadian woman "lady" on their field trip (so cute).

I can remember the sun beaming down on me and the quiet of the place, feeling like I somehow had found a place that I was meant to experience at some point. And at that moment, I turned the corner and came across this Gandhi-scrawled message on the wall.

"My life is my message."

It struck deep down into my veins and I knew from that moment on, life would seem more significant. I will never have the humility of Gandhi, nor the ability to say these words. But I can try? Right?

Thanks Gandhi. A Happy Earth Day to you.

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The Beautiful Women of Katputli Nagar

I finally finished this little diddy. I listened to this song every. single. night. in India on my terrace after a day at work. These women all meant something very special to me and a lot of the other volunteers there. They'll always remain in my heart and I HOPE to see them all again one day.



Please replace the word "brothers". As sisters we will stand and we'll hold your hand.

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Women Hold Up Half the Sky: India in 67 pages or less

I made a photobook of my journey. If you have flash and let it load, you can see it here below:

Click to view le grande photo book

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Why was I the lucky one born in Canada?

I ask that question only for the reason that I don't understand my sheer luck, not because I am mad, sad or unhappy in Canada. It's the opposite - I'm SO happy and SO lucky to have been a female born there. Canada (as I've been reminded by everyone here since returning home) is definitely one of the best places in the WORLD to live.

Troubles Indian women face? They are lucky to make it through birth in rich areas, as sex-selective abortion is prominent. In poorer areas where they cannot afford to discover the sex prior to the birth, newborn babies are poisoned. Every family wants a male for specific reasons:

• They stay in the family and aren't given away to another family.
• They can continue on the family name / run the family business (girls cannot do this?)
• They are the recipients of a dowry, rather than having to pay a steep price as the bride's father does

Women, on the other hand, usually aren't paid for to go to school. They must work while the male is educated. They are married off at an early age in poor families and become the other's family, no longer living with their own. There is usually a large dowry to pay for them to enter another family and sometimes there are what is popularly known as 'bride burnings.' When the new family wants an even larger dowry or simply don`t want to the bride in their family, the husband, sister or mother-in-laws may pour gasoline on the new wife and light her on fire.

Everywhere you go in India, you see men sitting on the side of the road and in small shops, drinking tea and chatting. But you rarely see women sitting and not working. You see them carrying large loads on their heads, working in the fields and cooking over the hot fire....or cleaning, taking care of the children or sewing. They are always working -- hard work, more than what we`re used too.

If you are at all interested in the issue of women in India, one must-read is May You Be the Mother of a Hundred Sons: A Journey Among the Women of India written by Elisabeth Bumiller. It discusses a variety of challenges facing women in India, including a bride burning case; a rare death by sati, in which a young widow joined her husband on the funeral pyre; poor villages where girl babies are so unwelcome that some don't survive and cities where boy babies are given the edge by prenatal tests and the availability of abortion. There are some generalizations in the story, but overall it`s a must read and one that unfortunately points out issues that haven`t progressed too much since it was written back in the `80`s.

During my time in India, I became so used to hearing the women I knew talk about their own arranged marriages that it became normal to me. It was just a fact of life that two people would enter into a marriage like a business contract and that love would come later, if ever. It began to make some sense that two families would choose and, in the good cases, support the marriage to get to the point of love if all other elements of a marriage were present: responsibility, accountability, good health, trust and honesty.

I knew some women that were dating now, in their late teens and early 20`s, but knew the inevitable would one day come and their families would choose their groom. They were close enough to their parents that they felt they would consider their feelings in the choice and it actually seemed...easier. There was no headaches or analyzing and questioning their love for someone. It was just the next step in life.

After kissing a lot of frogs, do I wish that my parents could just do the work for me and find a suitable mate?

Umm...no...that idea has me rolling on the floor laughing. But there, it made sense.

Thanking my lucky stars for being a native Canadian and trying to make my life meaningful enough so as to not forget my luck...

Pyaar.

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Home & (barely) Alive

The curse of the inevitable "Delhi belly".  (Look it up, it's an awful term.) During my time in India I knew one girl who caught Dengue Fever while in Delhi and another who didn't leave her room for 48 hours. After a tearful goodbye to a friend in the Ahmedabad airport, I made it to Delhi for my last day in India. And I couldn't leave my hotel room.

After spending 12 hours crawling from the bathroom to my bed and back again, I mustered up all of the strength I had and made it through 25 hours of transit home. Upon arriving, all visions in my head of telling gut-busting stories of hilarity and adventure to my family were put on hold as I had an IV stuck into my veins at the hospital. And while I am sharing my its-not-a-cliche-i-actually-was-crying-on-the-bathroom-floor moment here, I also discovered that someone I loved for the last two and a half years had inevitably "moved on." It doesn't matter how many people tell you it wasn't the right match, hearing the "I've moved on" words hurt...yet it also finally frees up new beginnings.

It's as if India knew I was leaving and tried to stop me. Or maybe India just wanted to send me home with a reminder that life isn't always roses. That when you face a country with extreme poverty, lack of infrastructure and proper communication standards, you can't come back unaffected. Surely you grow to be a little less naive and sheltered. You learn that there is a lot of sorrow and ugliness out there. Awful conditions that make my last week look like a walk in the park. 

I was so worried about coming home and having it tarnished by being so ill. "Everyone thinks that India is a dirty place where you get sick, but it's really a beautiful and wonderful country," I kept saying to my family. "I don't want people to get such a bad image of it because of this!"

So yesterday one of the wisest women in my life, my dear sister, reminded me that it's how you respond to what you see and experience that sets your character. How you respond is a choice you make. You can't control what comes your way, but for the mere fact that I just roamed through India for six weeks on my own, met people who will be in my life forever and awoke a passion in myself for working with women, I do know this:

the people, situations, and experiences

that are meant to come your way, 

will. 

In their own time. 

So...in the coming days as I regain my strength and learn about how to let go for good or want to finally tell some gut-busting and beautiful tales of the country of extremes, I'll post them here. There's massive uncertainty in my near future as I have no idea where I'm going to live or what I will do for my next adventure. I'm on the cusp of big changes and yet am struggling to see the forest through the trees. However, this blog has the word "hopeful" in it because that's exactly what I am.

Hopeful.

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Dancing in the Street - Indian Style

Our hosts here put us up in a 5 star luxury hotel. It is amazing to have clean towels, hot water and clean sheets! The wedding was unbelievable in colours, sights and sounds. Indians have a beautiful tradition of dancing the groom to his wedding. We arrived and danced for an hour down the street to where the ceremony would take place.

I'm really not sure why this is sideways.
Getting into the sari, with all the jewellery -- hardest thing
I've done for a wedding!

Jayneel followed the party in a 1930's something kind of car.

The food wasn't upside down. I think I am.
Delicious buffet & Indians will not stop feeding you!

Gujarat is a dry state, alcohol is banned. We had
delicious grape and kiwi fresh fruit juice all night.

Today we see the office of the 100+ employees that make up Openxcell and Gandhi's Ashram. Tonight I arrive in Delhi at 9 p.m. and currently no idea where to stay. Yet another Indian adventure...Pyaar!

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The Travel Itch

Why is it that our generation seems to itch so badly to travel, see the world, put ourselves in constant chaos, and live to tell the tales safe at home in our plush lives with our dearest friends and family?

Maybe it's because more people have more money and airfare and accomodations cost less.

Maybe we are just so utterly connected that it's not as scary to be away. Sure, I'm on a plane for 30 hours and I'm one of the weird ones - I don't have a cell phone, so I still struggle with pay phones to call my parents from Amsterdam or Frankfurt, wherever my plan connects, to let them know I'm en route and not to worry. But either way, they rarely go a couple days without hearing from me.

I once read a blog post that was a very interesting thought, "Maybe humans thrive off more potent emotions and that's why we seek to take ourselves out of our comfort zones." I'm sure this is likely true as we struggle to connect in a world that is so disconnected.

Or maybe it's simply this...and this is really personal, I think (and feel in my heart this is somewhat correct from the people I meet and conversations I have, both at home and around the world) that there is a level of consciousness that continues to grow within us all, as we evolve, that silently whispers to us that we are a global family. The earth is ours to discover. And to take care of. We need to take care of each other. Whether it's helping a friend stuck in the mud, donating time and efforts to a great cause or by simply growing a garden in your backyard to nourish your families stomachs and souls, you are doing your part. You are because if you are reading this, you've likely affected me & my life in some way.

Take care of each other over there and I'll see you soon! So much love and appreciation.  - Tam

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Goa to Mumbai to Ahmedabad

Well I've made it through Mumbai and to Ahmedabad. Somehow. Sheeeeeesh.

First my train story from Goa to Mumbai. I basically had a sleepover with five Indian men. Fun.

I purchased my ticket on the internet and it was 'waitlisted'. So when I first got on the train (luckily these two young guys totally helped me. They found my cabin and let me sit with them until the ticket checker came by. They spoke to him in Hindi for me to see if I actually had a seat)...but the ticket checker said "No we're totally full". Then he told me my ticket had been cancelled..aaahhh I was already on the train so was thinking I'm going to be booted off somewhere between Goa and Mumbai. But lo and behold, the ticket checkers name was Ganesh and I began to pray to the elephant God, and they found my name on the list. Phew. Angels working all over this crazy land.

However, my bed was in a small cabin with five Indian men. How fun is that? They were all eating curry dishes and snoring. In India it's not uncommon or even considered abnormal to release gas, as loudly as possible. I will tell you I got very little sleep, but arrived safely.

But of course, I got off on the wrong train station. My hotel was supposed to be a '1 minute walk' from the Mumbai CST and I got off across the city. So after four days and no shower, having a sleepover with five Indian men and barely any sleep, I was hassled in the dark streets of Mumbai at 6 a.m. "Want a beer miss, oh missssss, you look like you need a whiskey" "Taxi taxi taxi get in my taaaaaaaaaaxii". Only the usual. I made a smart decision, used the pre-paid taxis and eventually found my way to my hotel. Which was another story, but enough of those.

Mumbai was an exciting city. It is home to the rich of the rich and poor of the poor. My quick trip involved a visit to the Mumbai Central Library (had to), the Gateway of India, taking a ferry ride over to Elephanta Island to see the caves there dedicated to Lord Shiva, and then to Dhobi Ghat, the world's largest open air laundromat.

More in pictures...

Leaving the Gateway of India on the ferry.

The Elephanta Caves

There are many Hindu legends which I've come to know and love. I will definitely post specific to this when I'm home. Some of my favourite stories include Krishna, the God of Love - or how Ganesh came to be the most worshipped God. There is a holy trinity of Gods that make up Hinduism. Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Shiva, the destroyer. They each have specific women and animal consorts. More later...

The majestic ships on the waters of Mumbai

Colourful Dhobi Ghat

which turned into a massive photoshoot. This is
one photo of twenty where they wore my sunglasses
and fought over my camera. 

Mumbai Central Library. Love.

I obviously feel as if I'm not doing Mumbai justice by writing much about the city, but I'm really strapped for time as I have a wedding to attend!

I will say it was a beautiful, metropolitan city that smelled like fish. It was clean and glamourous and in other areas horribly dirty. There were black and yellow taxis everywhere and the people were so friendly. I promise more stories later.

As for the wedding, we had a sneak preview last night at the engagement reception and it was COLOURFUL.

The beautiful bride & groom

My lovely date Jimena & I at the
engagement with Tula & Megha

The gracious hosts, another client from Australia & us

Tuesday we will visit Gandhi's ashram and the Openxcell office. Wednesday I shop my last bazaars in Delhi and Thursday I arrive home in Calgary after 18 hours of flights and gaining half a day. I can't believe it's almost time to leave this magical land, but there is so much life to live when I arrive home in one of the most wonderful countries in the world!

Pictures of the wedding today to come once I'm home. I have a sari to get into!

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To Mumbai or not to Mumbai

That is my question.

I am currently booked on an overnight train tomorrow to Mumbai. I want to see the Elephanta Caves very much there, but I must book it to get to Ahmedabad for the wedding. I want to experience Mumbai and would rather not have to lock my backpack for the day travel and then spend two nights in a row on the train.

Oh the dilemma. Right now I am in Anjuna, Goa. I figured I'd share this story as part of the not-so-fun part of travelling. You always hear the great stories, rarely do you hear the so-frustrating-you-are-tired-and-exhausted-and-want-a-good-shower-without-frogs-leaping-on-you ones.

I will tell this one with pictures.

Tried out a new beach yesterday after first arriving.
It's up the North Coast - Mandorim.
Absolutely stunning. White sand. Beautiful beach.

Yaa...things were looking pretty good about here.
Especially when my neighbour gave me an Indian/Scotch
whiskey shot. Things were la-de-daa fine here.

Tandoori Chicken Dinner. Delicious...

And I found Ray Ban aviators for 150 Rs & these beauty
earrings for 50. Ridiculous after-dinner shop.

And then it alllll started.

After dinner I was writing in my journal and enjoying a beverage with a house guest and I heard shouting, guns and men screaming and running all over.

Turns out my Guesthouse is located beside a Paintball yard. Joy.

Then I go to have a hot shower & this little (or huge) gem jumped on me. Needless to say, I did the ol' "cup & splash" for the rest of my shower, standing as far away from the wall as I could get. 

I didn't sleep well, at all. There are incredible crows here. I can't explain how many there are, but all night there was barking dogs and crows crowing (?) and then at about 5 a.m. there was a ton of scratching at the door.

I woke up with a start and thought there was someone trying to get into my room. My 'room' is an individual shack in the guesthouse courtyard and I'm currently in the room alone, so I didn't feel VERY SAFE!

And then I heard the meowing.

But still, it was scary.

The best part was when I woke up after an awful night's sleep this morning. I was groggy and feeling around for my alarm clock, when I felt my lip was totally numb on one side.

I looked in the mirror and it was completely swollen.

My first thought was that I was dying a slow, puffy death. Luckily I rushed out of my room and asked a couple of people and they seemed to think it was just an ant that bit me. 

You can imagine how fun the flea market was this morning. Trying to barter with a fat lip is challenging. But I did it! And enjoyed myself...you have to be able to laugh at yourself, right?

The beautiful, rocky Anjuna beach from my breakfast
spot this morning.

The 'famous' flea market.
There are over 20,000 stalls.

Surfboard, cows & palm trees. A normal day.

So - there you have it. I'm happy to say that my lip has reduced since this morning and I'm off to the beach.

Pyaar!

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A 500 year old body, Three Temples & a Spice Farm

Yesterday I did manage to get my booty off the beach chaise and take a cultural tour with my driver, Ganesh (yes, named for the God). We started in Old Goa, settled by the Portuguese in the 1500's. Apparently it was the "Rome of the East" and St. Francis Xavier's body is there in a huge old church that is a World Heritage Monument. I didn't catch the whole story, but basically his body hasn't decayed in 500 years....yeah it gets better. The only part that has fallen off is one toe and it was kept and worshiped too.

From there we headed through three Temples that were all magnificient to see up close and personal, but that I couldn't enter due to my short shorts. Oops. Even though it's the beach state, normal Indian rules apply ladies! We went on to the Spice Farm which was exquisite. On this tropical spiceland they have vanilla, cinnamon, coffee, bay leaves, lemon-grass, wine, and more -- they even create mace from a spice grown here (who knew). We saw a monkey man swing from trees to trees and a huge banana spider that made me miss my Tobey!

The World Heritage Monument.

For this dude's body (sorry - Saint's body)
That's it in those little windows.
500 year old body.
No biggie.

Sorry to put this up, but really? A little graphic
intensive I think?

Beautiful ceremony of lighting
candles for their Saint. It is nice to see the
variety of religion here.

Shri Manguesh, devoted to Lord Shiva.

Ganesh nicknamed me Khushi for this trip as he said
I was always laughing (Khushi = happy in Hindi)
You can't see it, but I'm laughing here because he just
told me I was bad luck (since we couldn't enter any of
the temples).
I said to him, "ok fine, I'll just look reeeeeally good
outside of them then." He laughed too, but I don't
think he got it.

Beautiful temple.

SPICE FARM! Vanilla tree/plant?

If you look closely, there's a man in those trees.

We stopped at Panjim (Panaji - just another thing where
it's always differently spelled, but same city) which is
the capital city of Goa. And all I wanted was to hit
up this bookstore. I'm now carrying 7 books with me.
Too much, too much, too much.

Finally we ended at Fort Aguada. It's a Portuguese fort constructed in 1612 to guard against the Dutch and the Marathas. It's at the shore of the Mandovi River and what I found interesting is that there was a freshwater spring within the fort which provided water supply to ships as they came by. This is how the fort got its name "Aguada" meaning Water. There was also a huge lighthouse, the oldest of its kind in Asia. "Built in 1612, it was once the grandstand of 79 cannons, a moat around the fort also protected it."

The fort as the sun began to set.

Tomorrow I'm off to Anjuna Beach to check out a white sand beach and the famous Anjuna Flea Market. Again, leaving my solitude for crazier beaches, a backpacker dorm room, and eventually a train to Mumbai.

But before I head off, I wanted to end with the pictures of a couple of ladies who don't have such an easy life on the beaches of Candolim.

Vanesha. Keep in mind it's 31 degrees today
and she does this all day long.

Ahh Kerala, my masseuse and fresh juice extraordinaire.
Looking beautiful in her orange sari.

16 year old Nikita.
I keep bugging her everyday about going to
University as she's finished 8th class.
Maybe one day she will!

Hopeful pyaar to all of you.

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