Quote of the Day

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person. -Anais Nin

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 2)

After the waterfall we drove toward our next destination - Talakaveri.

Talakaveri is considered the birthplace of the Kaveri river, one of the seven sacred rivers of India, and is located in the Brahmagiri hills in Coorg at an altitude of about 4500 ft. (Side note, one of my friends who came along is named Kaveri, and she is named after this river).

There was a young Brahmin in white clothes with colorful markings on his forehead and arms. We stood there and watched him perform prayers and chant over the exact spot of water that marked the origin of the river. The chanting (in Sanskrit) was monotone and went on for a while, and simultaneously he was pouring holy water and some type of red powder into the water. I stood there respectfully as everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes. "Pray for what you want," Kaveri whispered to me, "it works." So I did.

When he finished the chanting he gave us a spoonful of holy water and marked our foreheads with red powder. We then began the climb up the 500 steps to the Brahmagri peak. On the climb up I could see why this place is nicknamed "The Scotland of India." Rolling green hills surrounded us as far as the eye could see, and we were immersed in a white mist that danced around us. It felt like we were climbing a stairway to heaven.

Once we reached the peak there were no words to describe the view that awaited us. If there was ever a place that seemed fitting to worship the gods, this would be it. We were above the clouds, in the clouds. At one point a cloud passed right through us, and we could see nothing but white mist and foggy shades of one another. Exhilaration burst through me as I raised my hands to the sky.

We were in the heavens.

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 1)

The most recent weekend trip I took was to Coorg, also known as the "Scotland of India." Coorg or Kodagu literally means "dense forest on steep hill" and is about 5000 feet above sea level.

What has become my traveling group [me, 3 coworkers (Kaveri, Ajay, Murali), 2 MIT interns (Richard, Sean)] booked a car/driver for the weekend and made the 6 hour drive to Madikeri, the district headquarters of Coorg. The drive over was beautiful - acres of lush forests, misty hills, and coffee and tea plantations.

First destination - drive through Nagahole National Park, where our car was slowed down by an elephant on the side of the road.

We had planned on going on safari through the park, but weather and time didn't permit, so we moved onto the next stop - Iruppu Falls. We had to do some hiking to get to the waterfall, but it was beautiful, set amid thick green forest and mossy boulders.

We stood there for a few minutes, admiring the power of the water as it crashed below. A few people were under the waterfall, holding on to a steel beam that had been put into place for that reason I assume. I immediately regretted not bringing a bathing suit. Richard had brought shorts, so he changed into them and joined the few others under the water. One by one the guys in our group decided to follow. Kaveri and I had a real dilemma! We had no bathing suit, and for women swimming in just your undergarments in India is a big no-no to say the least. We sat on the moist rocks, but as I watched the others I couldn't take it anymore - "I'm going in!"

Those of you who know me well know that I'm not exactly the type of person who swims under waterfalls fully clothed, but I feel like my trip here has been marked by things I wouldn't normally do, and the words came out of my mouth before I even thought about them. I looked at Kaveri "I'm going in, you comin?" She smiled and her eyes lit up - "Let's do it."

We crossed the slippery rocks and slowly let ourselves into the water (so cold!). We waded over to the falls to join the others, and I kept my balance by gripping the steel beam.

What a feeling! The pressure of the water was so heavy against my head and shoulders, and it felt like each rush pounded more and more of my thoughts outside of my body until I was left with nothing but this feeling. I had to remind myself to breathe, since the wind was continuously getting knocked out of me. I gripped the beam tighter, closed my eyes, and let the water wash everything away.

After changing into some spare clothes, I let my hair out and let it dry in the wind as we drove off. We sang our favorite songs as we headed toward our next destination. Great music, new friends, beautiful scenery...what more do you need?

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would perhaps have more actual troubles but I'd
have fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly
and sanely hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over
again, I'd have more of them. In fact,
I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments.

One after another, instead of living so many
years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those people who never go anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot
earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.

By Nadine Stair (age 85)
from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen

Homesick

It's been a tough week.

Hooray for Hampi!

Last weekend I took a trip to Hampi.

After seven hours on a questionably clean overnight sleeper bus we arrived at this World Heritage site, once the center of the largest Hindu empire in South India. Wars with neighboring powers left the city plundered, deserted, and in ruins. I loved Hampi as soon as I saw it. Everywhere we turned there were huge boulders and hills and historical ruins. It felt like you could walk forever and explore and lose yourself in history.

After making our way around the main temple and Bazaar area we moved toward the hills and started climbing. We saw a distant temple atop a huge hill and decided to go for it. The climb was tough, the steps and rocks were steep and we had to take many breaks on the way up. Some parts of the trail were narrow and tree branches slapped my arms as I pushed myself through the brush while I shooed away buzzing insects. I strained my legs over the last few rocks and was relieved to see what remained of a doorway - the doorway to the temple. Inside was dark, empty, and deserted, but the cool interior was a welcome respite from the heat. We walked toward a circle of sunlight that rested on the other side of the room and I ran up the last few steps of the temple and came out onto the hilltop.

The wind was so strong it felt like it could blow us straight over the side, and it thundered in our ears as if in applause of our accomplishment. I just stood there, inhaling deep breaths of air, hands on my head, and looked out at the city below. I stood there, and I felt. I felt strong, and in awe of the world around me. We sat down and enjoyed the view as half a dozen monkeys watched us with curious eyes. We nicknamed our spot the "monkey temple."

After a day of trekking and hiking, we were exhausted and headed back to the guesthouse. One of the MIT guys had the idea of going up to that same "monkey temple" early the next morning to watch the sunrise. Not many of the others were up for the idea, but I was down. Hell, you're only in India once.

The next morning I set off with two other interns at 5am. We walked down the main road to the base of the hill, and along the way I saw whole families sleeping on mats on the side of the road. This was hard, I couldn't believe how many people there were. I counted my blessings and continued on.

As we began our initial trek, one intern lagged behind on some steps and we soon realized he had been stung by something and was not feeling well. He ended up abandoning the trek and going back to the guesthouse to rest, and I started feeling nervous and regretted my decision to be adventurous. It was still dark out, and we could barely see around us, but the last intern and I just doused ourselves in more bug spray before continuing on.

I had a tiny key chain light that was useful (thank you MIT career fair), and it allowed us to make sure we weren't stepping in any type of cow crap as well as helped us avoid the HUGE millipedes crawling about (longer than my hand, thicker than a finger). Since we had lost some time, we worried about not making it to the top of the hill in time, so we sped up the pace. The path had been okay in the daylight, but it was much worse in the dark. The steps were narrow and steep, and sometimes we had to make our way across large rocks (and you just had to hope you wouldn't fall and tumble over the edge). I was exhausted and out of breath, heart pounding, soaked in sweat, but I somehow kept on. I should mention that my climbing buddy regularly runs 10 miles a day, so I think pride helped that morning. Its amazing what you are capable of when you are expected to do better than your best. And then at last we arrived.

The reception this time was not forceful and aggressive, but calm, as if we had just awoken the city from a deep slumber and it sleepily welcomed us. The air was clean, and I took large gulps of it as the wind gently cooled the sweat and calmed my breath. The sky was a light gray, quiet. The clouds hid most of the sun but just enough rays shyly peeked out to give the sky a subtle glow. My new friend and I exchanged few words as we sat overlooking the city.

"So India huh?"

"Yep...India."

Some insects quietly buzzed about but for the first time they did not bother me - maybe I finally understood their song.

Be Back Soon

I won't be able to write for the next few days, but will post again as soon as I can.

Thanks for your patience :-)