From the forests of Finland

When I got out of the airplane in Helsinki the wheather decided to celebrate my arrival with sunshine,
and roads that recently dried after being covered a long winter in snow. Something that might sound not so extra-ordinary but is, for sure, a sign of spring.

I know many others did what we did before, and I know some people spend their whole lifes travelling around. So maybe I am a bit ashamed of my feelings in a way, but I choose not to care. My whole beeing was filled with happiness as I took my first steps on Finnish ground. I smiled like a jerk when I saw the first signs written in Finnish and Swedish and something inside me exploded when I felt the first familiar smells of the well-known.

I'm happy to hear from Simi and a bit, I must say, jealous of her experiences.
Home is, for better or worse, what it always been. I got a job. I read a lot of books.
Neoliberalism, the politics of Finland and history of social work in Scandinavia fill my mind with word-tornados. Quite the opposite of what Simi just went through. If I allow myself a guess on how it's been and what an opposite may be.

Like I told her: Coming home for some reasons feel like a lot of things to figure out. I just don't know what those things are or what I will find when I figure them out.
Every now and then I have to stop what I'm doing to catch some of those thaughts.
I guess I'm missing it a bit. The whole thing. Travelling, India, Indians, the chaos the freedom.

And I guess It'll never stop. Like with everything you do in life. Every chapter you finnish.

It will take some time. But I know reality will get me back sooner or later. Hopefully.
Like today.  Just because this is something I haven't done in a long time. I have some bread to bake.

The Vipassana

A 10 day long meditation course, that is actually way more than just a simple course. The rules are very strict: Noble silence at all times (that means no form of communication except talking to the teacher), no books, or music, or writing. Getting up at 4 am and meditating about 10 hours a day, thes a teacher's discourse and bedtime at 9 pm. No proper food after 12 o'clock (only fruits).
Sounds horrible. And intensive. And it was very hard, the first 3 days, and it was intensive, and it was an experience I don't want to miss. I find it hard to put in words what I felt in those 10 days, maybe I need some more time to digest, as it ended just a few hours ago. It was definitely one of the hardest things I've done in my life - so far.

The purpose of the course is to purify the mind, even though you obviously don't achieve this goal in 10 days. Only if you practise every day, you can take more than just this one step on the long path, that, eventually, leads to enlightenment. At least, this is what Buddha said. It is his technique, even though the course doesn't really have anything to do with religion - It's only about the mediation.

By concentrating on the sensations you feel on your body, and not rreacting to it, you strengthen, sharpen your mind and get out of your miseries. You learn to get out of being so emotional about everything, and to be so dependend on the outside world. Because real happiness comes from within, from yourself and nowhere else.

A short try to summarize the technique. But there's so much more behind it. It changed something in me. And now it's up to me to make something out of it. I don't know what it is going to be.

So good, so far. And now, back to the real world. Tonoiight I am staying with the assistant teacher of the course, Suman, and her family. One last time real Indian life. Family life. And tomorrow off to Kathmandu, to the final part.

Mission complete,India approved by Mr Oshman & Simosa21

Well.
Here I am. Alone in Kolkata. Simi took a bus to the southern part of the city somewhere to
do the Vipassana (silent meditation). Four and a half months of toghether-hood made the hotelroom feel rather empty last night when I watched the HBO 9 o'clock movie by myself.

I hated this country sometimes. Too many people, too much traffic, too much heat. Too much attention as I can not melt into the crowd walking on the street. Simply too much of most things. I felt so vulnerable at times I thaught I'd better just lock myself up in the hotel-room. I guess this comes from not having frames big enough to fit all impressions, challenges, people, smells, sounds. Unconsciously the frames of my box have grown. What it means or how much I can't answer to in this moment.

As Simosa21 was trying to find out what bus to take yesterday I was waiting in the shadow together with her backpack. Coming back she told me about this lady rushing to help her find her bus since she saw Simi was a tourist. Saying that we both smiled and I guess, felt that that's one of those many many small things that makes India so great.
"I love this country" Simi said as we both tried not to cry.
I didn't reply but I was thinking the same.

I found myself humming Swedish songs as I started (for the last time) packing my backpack. Swedish songs that reminded me of home. I think this means I'm ready to go home now, and stay, at least for a little while.

I wanna say thank you.
To India, the land of many small and big things.
To Sadhana forest and to the people we met there.
To the guy who said "welcome to India!" as we were wandering toghether with the pilgrims i Tiruvannamalai.
To the rickshaw driver who let us drive his rickshaw.
To the ladies on the bus in Agra who offered me a seat in a over-crowded bus.
To the Mumbaiboys for our late Mumbai-nights.
To our Kottayam friends that invited us and, who thaught us everything we need to know about south-Indian cooking.
To the guy who let us escape the desertwind with chai and blankets in his small clay-house.
To the crazy jewelleryshop owner in Jaipur and his two boys who gave us pink pearlnecklaces.
To fellow travellers whit whom we shared time and thaughts.
To my balloon-tiger that very unfortunately past away too soon.
To Camilla for daring to join us.
To the hotel-managers in Jodhpur and Jaipur.
To the man on Delhi airport who finally gave Simi our ticket to Bangalore.
To the flower&parfume-men who provided us with those for Simi's birthday.
To the girl screaming out loud when she saw us.
To the three boys on our last trainstation.
To the guard of the strange monument for the dead princesses in the desert.
To the ex-monk novice, and the guy in the green t-shirt who sang hindi songs for us.
To all couchsurfers who helped us out, to all children waving at us, to everyone part of this, most of the time,
happy chaos.

Of course my horse:
Most of all.
Thank you Simi.
We're a good team.
I'll miss you.

So long.
I have some Indian last streets to walk, quite a few  last "no thank you"s to say, one or two last mango-lassis,
some  last people to tell where I come from ("oh England!" "no, FINLAND") and inform them whether I'm married or not, before I have my last ride to the airport.

Hello, whatever and whoever home means and includes these days.
Farewell India. See you, sometime.

Puss.
Nina

The queen of hillstations

                                                      Swimming in the river after river-rafting. Was fun at first, freezing afterwards when we realized we won't dry and we have no clothes to change with.

 But Simi looked happy anyway.

 Then we visited a tea-plantation. You kind of have to if you spend a week in Darjeeling. We got our lesson in tea-producing and picking before we we're invited to try a cup by ourselves.

 We felt akward posing for the Teacooking-lady. " You want picture picture!? Smile!, why this tea special!? 1)organic 2) HAPPY!"

  It's true. We do!

 Buddhist-monestary-Buddha with the (seems to be) comprenhensive blue hair-do.

A last train-ride later

From Bodhgaya we escaped the "real" India's heat for the cooler climate of the mountains.
Between Kurseong and Darjeeling we took the small steam toy-train. The driver must have misunderstood something about when to use the whistle or he just really liked the sound of it.
We had plans about going for a few days to Sikkim while beeing in the neighbourhood but decided
that we are aloud to be a little bit lazy the last week(s) toghether. So for six days in Darjeeling we admired the view, tried a (not so exiting but pleasant) river rafting trip, visisted a teaplantation  (and had our by far fanciest and most expensive cup of tea ever). We visited the Tibetan refugee self-help center, a buddhist monestary and ate big quantities of tibetan bread.

We realized we're now able to put last in front of almost everything.
We said Hi to the usual wonderful messy India a last time after a last jeep-ride down the hill.
 A last train-journey later we find ourselves in our last city; Kolkata.
We left our bags in our last hotelroom and are on our way to do some of the last gift-shopping.

On Buddhas Tracks

...finally Prince Siddhartha came to a place that is now called Bodhgaya, where he sat under a tree and meditated. He had spent 6 years in a cave nearby, without eating, without drinking. But under this tree his search would come to an end. He attained enlightenment and became a Buddha.

Today this tree is called Bodhi tree, and it grows next to a temple. It is not exactly the same tree Buddha used to meditate beneath, but it grew from a cutting of the original one.

And we were following Buddha, sitting under the same tree, smelling the same air in the cool and dark cave. Viewing the (almost) same views. Without getting enlightened, though.

what's so special about india? #4

Another thing to add in your India-dictionary:

Whenever getting a receipt in India, no matter on what amount it will always be written
"only" afterwards. Very positive people, those Indians.


-"1000 rupees O N LY madame"
- Ah... only!?

Sometimes this really feels ridiculous!

Cricket

Tonight is a big night.
India is playing in the worldcup finals agains Sri Lanka.
We don't understand the rules of this game, but we have been told that India lost two wickets. Loosing wickets seems to be something bad because all cricketfans seem to be rather sad at the moment.
Anyway,  hoping to be able to participate in the celebrations afterwards, we're cheering for India

So..
Ehm...GO INDIA! Don't loose more wickets (?) woho!

Mother Ganga

And finally we say hello to the holiest of rivers: The Ganges. People swim here, wash their clothes, cows cool their bodies in here, dead people are burned by its riversides and the ashes thrown into Ganga afterwards. I special cases (e.g. dead pregnant women) the bodies are just thrown into the water, tied to some stones so that they won't float.
And everything is just a part of everyday life. People sit on the ghats (stairs that lead down to the river), talk, spit, smoke, eat, work, have chai... while they watch the dead bodies being carried, the fires being lit, and the cremation. Bodies wrapped in withe cloths. We sit here and talk about leggings. The cloth is burned away and we can see a woman's toes. How absurd. This is Varanasi. One of the holiest cities in India, where Life meets Death. Where the circle ends - to die here ends the circle of reincarnation.

And we are, somehow, tired. Also our circle, our almost circle through India, our journey, is about to end. We have chai. We watch fires. We talk about leggings. About the future. About the past. And now. We stroll around the streets. This is India again, after our short visit to the mountains. We plan the last steps. Read and write. Reflect. Try not to think of the heat. Of the "grown-up", "serious" parts of our lifes, that are about to start. Soon, but not yet.