so clearly this blog a day thing is starting to become difficult as we travel more and clients need more work completed, but here we go. i have opted to stay behind on a sunset boat ride to play catch up. catch up on me. this blog. my sleep. my journal. my calm.

the past four days have been full of travel and new towns. not necessarily a ton of exciting adventure, but lots of sights and sounds and time to tune into my surroundings.

so rewinding back to where i left off. day 8.

we ended up back in delhi after our short trip to amritsar. arrived back to our hotel at 1am and woke up at 7am and spent our last morning doing yoga in lodhi garden. such a sacred space. welcoming and beautiful. jasprit says we won’t have another place like this to practice in throughout the rest of the trip. the sun gently nudging the fog away over the frosted roses row by row.

a slow day. we head to hamayun’s tomb and tour the pre-cursor to the taj mahal. the buildings here are so spectacular. and to think the amount of time it took to build them.

the process of construction doesn’t seem to have changed. everything in repair, but with all the time in the world. a couple guys with shovels and miles of unearthed road. one day. it will all come together one day. no one is in a hurry to find order. i like it. it feels more comfortable. a space to be yourself and not so put together all the time.

when hunger struck, we headed to bengali market’s competition, nathu’s sweethouse (literally across the street). i got a mini-meal. we are starting to figure out the amount of food we need to order to not have leftovers between the four of us. usually three dishes is plenty. add in some rice and bread of sort. i am still in dessert heaven here. sugar sugar everywhere. in coffee, in chai, in milk. i have to be careful to not send myself into a sugar coma. but i think i am finding the balance of delicious treats and healthy eats.

we ended the night with a trip back to janpath street for some more shopping. i found my way into a paper store and walked out with several new journals and a set of fabric greeting cards for $20. an amazing change from the $100 i usually drop when i walking into my favorite paper store in portland. it is heaven running my fingertips over the handmade sheets of paper. all sorts of colors and textures and patterns.

a hot chocolate as my night cap and to sleep we go. packed up and ready to move onto our next destination.

every morning the sikh holy book, the guru granth sahib, is transported from its protected storage space into the golden temple around 4am. an impressive processional with care and precision, ritual and tradition.

it is cold at 4am. walking barefoot on marble is cold at 4am. you can see your breath. you can feel your toes going numb one by one. but it doesn’t matter.

ik onkar is the symbol, universal oneness. we take a seat in the golden temple. i am shown to a space amidst about 30 indian women sitting crossed-legged near the durbar sahib, or altar space/court. i squeeze in and immediately the cold disappears. the warmth of their bodies surrounds me. the warmth of their words surrounds me. i shrink down inside myself. for an hour we sit listening to the music by the raagis. the beating of the tabla and eerie cadence of the harmonium. letting the sounds penetrate the darkness of dawn.

and then, the processional begins. the holy book makes its way to the court. wrapped in crisp, clean white fabric. topped with decorations and flowers. it is carefully unwrapped layer by layer, cleaning off each layer with extreme precision. hymns being recited by multiple rotating men or jathedars. and finally, it opens. we listen. we stand. we sit. we pray. we exit.

you can watch the whole thing here, everyday.

without asking this time, jasprit translated the message of the day to me: you must first realize that you are in everything. you cannot satisfy your hunger until you see yourself in others.

others. every gurdwara has a langar hall which serves a free meal to anyone who wants one. the one at the golden temple serves 10,000 people per day. we joined for some chai and biscuits. we stopped and watched them make three bean lentil dal in huge vats being stirred with big metal oars. the scent of heaven and smoke filling the air.

as we exit the golden temple area, it is still dark. i never did see the gurdwara in the daylight. probably better that way, it was so magical in the darkness.

we stop at a small restaurant just outside and get some chai. i opt for a glass of warm milk. jasprit informed me the night before that amritsar has the best milk in the world, so of course the night before i went to bed with a warm glass of milk. the milk here is from water buffalo though. there is definitely a bit of a different taste, but not much.

we drank our chai and got a personalized demonstration on how to make stuffed naan in the tandori oven. every time i see a tandori oven, i think of my good friend aisha and my trip to visit her in ohio in fifth grade. we went to an indian restaurant, and i remember watching the naan slapped up against the hot sides of the oven, the dough bubbling and making my mouth water.

it still does the same thing. sara ❤ naan.

back to the hotel. time to actually start the day. it is 8am.

rest time. for me this means pump out an e-newsletter, take a business call then a personal call on google hangout, and transfer everyone’s photographs to my external hard drive. seven days, three cameras, over 10gb of photos. eat breakfast and get ready to head out on the town.

a quick stop at the museum of maharaja ranjit singh who donated the money to turn the golden temple gold and was a powerful leader. lots of dioramas that were informative but slightly creepy.

and then into town we go.

jasprit and teresa always buy fabric for the russayog yoga studios from one store in amritsar (they are local celebrities everywhere we go in india). sardar pagri house, a fabric store that has been open for 65 years. shelf after shelf of bright colored fabrics typically meant for the turbans worn by sikh men. at the russayog studio, we create doras with the fabric, and they are used in many of the postures and exercises. i don’t know what i am going to do with nine meters of fabric, but i had to buy some. blue, green, and purple.

and what goes best with a bunch of beautifully colored fabric? new shoes!

we switched into girl mode and each found a pair of super cute punjabi slip on shoes. yep, i said it, SUPER CUTE. when i am home and you see them on my feet, please refrain from stealing them off my feet like dorothy.

and what goes best with new shoes? a new churidar (indian dress)!

and what goes best with a new churidar? sugar cane water with lemon and ginger (best drink ever)!

after we were shopped out, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and head back to the train station. six hours back to delhi. another day in delhi and off to jaipur on sunday morning.

thank you amritsar. you are beautiful. i will be back.

brace yourself to compare all preconceived expectations, and then, nothing. an indian train station at 7am is much like any other train station at 7am. people stopping at the snack bar to get their chai. waiting with their bags to board the train. a really loud “ta-da” video game-esque sound effect playing after every announcement over the loud speaker, oh wait, what? jasprit warns me that this is not ALL indian train stations. just wait until mumbai (hopefully this means that there will be a bollywood dance scene like in slumdog).

now granted, we were in the business class section. our names were even on the list. s. schneider in hindi. the cheaper seats get a bit more crowded i hear.

but for us, the train ride from delhi to amritsar was a breeze. six hours for me to crank out some serious graphic design and jam out to the civil wars (yes brian, they have been on repeat for the past few months) while gazing out the window pretending i could actually see things through the dirty, foggy glass. bottled water, expired yet delicious mango juice box, meal, and tea service included. sounds great right? it was, until you have to pee. fast-moving, bumpy trains make squatting over a hole in the ground quite an interesting endeavor. good thing i have good balance and a dirtbag soul.

we arrive in amritsar around 2pm. jasprit scouts out sunny, our driver for the next two days, and we pile into his old white land rover. onto our hotel, hong kong hotel. we settle in and ask for a good restaurant to grab lunch. restaurant! phissh. they will cook for us and bring it to the room. what do we want? jasprit has been the best personal food-selecter ever. basically, i cannot tell you anything i have eaten but i can tell you it has been delicious. simple yet spiced to perfection. usually involving some form of bread, potatoes, and dal (porridge-like dish). and for me, the best part is that i get to eat with my hands. when in rome!

or i suppose when in india…go to see one of the most entertaining traditions, the opening of the gates every evening at the pakistan-india border. hundreds of people come and fill the stands. pakistanis on their side and indians on their side. everyone cheering and dancing and chanting and waving flags. guards dressed up to the nines and putting on quite the show. each country’s guards have a march off complete with over 6’ men high-kicking to their noses, not even kidding. a true celebration of the calm that is currently forming between the two bordering countries.

the highlight? of course it was the school children. indian boys are the best dancers in the world. scientifically proven. you heard it here. put on a bhangra beat and watch the freestyle explode. if only i had as much rhythm as they do. don’t worry, there is video.

the runner up? sybille and i getting to run in front of the crowd with a huge indian flag. what makes this moment even better was that teresa grabbed my camera, with a zoom lens, and captured this amazingly close up shot of my extreme joy. flag? what flag?

walk back to the car with the masses snapping photos of every indian child i could along the way.

enjoy a quick chai and head back to amritsar (30 minute drive) for the main attraction, harimandar sahib, better known as the golden temple. amritsar is in the state of punjab, a predominantly sikh population.

the domes shined in the darkness, and as we removed our shoes and covered our heads, i did what i always do, asked my guru jasprit to translate the message of the day to me: remember how valuable you are and don’t let things distract you from that. keep universal oneness as your focus.

have you ever caught yourself holding your breath? visit the golden temple. you just might.

a large pond surrounding a building completely covered in gold. its reflection sending orange rays over the ripples. punjabi words singing throughout the air. a sense of serenity. the darkness engulfing my mind, the gold enlivening my soul. i barely feel the cold marble under my feet. i completely forget my bladder is ready to burst.

close your eyes. the language is foreign yet you know what they are saying.

more than usual, this trip is turning my skin inside out. my normal outgoing demeanor has become introspective and reflective. a connecting to my surroundings that silences my desire to be social. i sifted myself through the day. a late start after a late night allowed me to get an hour of work in before breakfast. i am finding a good balance of work and play. now i just need to find a space to rest.

as the day warmed up, we strolled around qutab minar, a very tall tower (238 ft.) that was build for the victory attached to quwwat-ul-islam mosque.

almost instantly, flocks of school children were surrounding us asked for their photos to be taken. boys and girls in their uniforms strutting their stuff in front of the lens. showing off their english and handshakes before abandoning all barriers and smothering us with hugs and kisses. i read an article once that you should get ten hugs per day. i am pretty sure i am set for the next week with the amount of squeezes shared. such attitude as they strike a pose. laughter as the run away and push their friend up. even the shy ones eventually got in the action.

and speaking of action, our next stop was full of it. we went for a short walk through the garden of five senses or lover’s park (a nickname whose origins became apparent fairly quickly). teenagers sprawled throughout the park with backs pressed against trees and lips locked. an entertaining spectacle as we ate our kulfi (ice cream) from a clay pot. the pots are just sun-dried, so when you are done, you can just throw them back to the earth to dissolve back into mud. a climb up amphitheater stairs and a brilliant view of delhi from above.

up high.

i always find myself looking up high. at the telephone wires, clouds, tops of buildings. my brain never expects to see humans, but in india, you do.

look up.

there is always someone hanging out on the rooftop. every building topped with people enjoying being up high, just like us at that moment.

and what is the one way to get even higher in india? no. the answer is good food. not just good food, but the best food in the country (colby, this paragraph is for you by demand). that’s right, the whole country. jasprit is friends with a man whose son lives in ann arbor. he owns park balluchi restaurant, a restaurant in the middle of a deer park in delhi. the indian tourism bureau voted him the best restaurant in the country for five years in a row. indian cuisine with afghanistan influences. wow. nothing like dining with the boss. course after course came out cooked to perfection. fish and chicken and dal and naan. finish it all up with one of my favorite desserts, gajar kahalva, a sort of carrot cake pudding. we left with full bellies and happy hearts.

best way to digest such spectacular cuisine…walk it off…at the lotus temple, a bahá’í house of worship shaped like a huge lotus flower. an impressive feat of architecture inside and out. simple yet complex. it sort of reminded me of the sydney opera house (from the photos i have seen anyways). a moment to reflect in the massive structure. a silent space for meditation.

i decided to stay in at night. my energy was low and walking around karol bagh to do some shopping seemed too taxing. i sent teresa, jasprit, and sybille out with a mission to bring me back a long sleeve top, and i took some time to myself in the hotel. took a shower, caught up with a friend, did some work, and wrote in my journal. i think finding your moments to be alone is one of the most important things a person can do when traveling with a group. every minute has a plan, and it is about recognizing how you need to spend your unplanned minutes to stay sane.

my companions returned with gifts galore. three hilariously awesome long sleeve shirts (dan, think something along the lines of the ones you always bring me back from japan), a super cute turquoise top, and two pairs of leggings. i officially ordained them as my personal shoppers from here on out.

the gift of giving is so simple and goes such a long way. i am grateful to be surrounded by such thoughtfulness.

Wake up early to beat traffic and head on our journey to the Taj Mahal. Our driver (yes, we have a driver) took us on the three or so hour drive south to Vrindavan, the home of Lord Krishna. After breakfast at a truck stop-esque restaurant, we traveled a bit more before an abrupt roadside stop. Then, magically we had a guide appear, RK. He took us through the streets of Vrindavan, face to face with real people, amazing people. My camera could not get enough. The bright colors. The dark skin and emotive faces. I might have to put together a portraits series from this trip. That has always been my passion in photography, the faces. My passion in life perhaps.

We toured Krishna’s temple, Shree Radha Govinda (built in 1590 AD), and his house. It was beautiful and spiritual. It was kitschy and touristy. Yet, I have been very surprised by the lack of white skin here. Everywhere we go, we seem to be the only ones. Krishna’s house had tourists, but mainly from other parts of India. Completing their pilgrimage.

RK told us about Krishna’s 16,108 girlfriends. Asked me if I was single. When I said yes, he told me I was now Krishna’s girlfriend. Feels good to be #16,109. He spoke about the eternal happiness found in Vrindavan, how our journey starts and ends there, how we can read all the books we want, but when it comes time to learn about yourself, you have to make the journey, how your heart will then always be full of laughter.

Say Jai.

You always say jai afterwards. It means victory. You will be victorious in your journey.

We took shelter in the big red temple with stone from Jaipur as the rain fell harder and harder.

I found a few minutes to sit, feel the mist, and reflect. It has been gray and rainy here the past couple days. Adds to the melancholy and magic of the surrounding. When the rain let up a bit, we walked through the dirty, puddled streets to Mira Bai’s house (Krishna’s main gal) where widows gather and the poor find shelter. And then we rush through the wet alleyways, my leather moccasins soaked through and staining my feet, to find Krishna’s home. A building covered in marble plaques purchased by visitors. They walk us through a Hindu prayer and then start asking for money. Put your name in marble! Honor your ancestors. We sit sort of awkwardly as Jasprit wheels and deals in syllables I have yet to grasp.

Back in the car. A quick stop at some fort (I know, not very informative). And onto Agra.

Pay the “high value” price to get in through the main gate with our guide. Turn the corner, and walk under the entrance arch. Everything perfectly symmetrical. 22 domes on the arch to represent the 22 years it took to build.

Taj Mahal. (You have to do this picture. It is required.)

Built for his late wife. Built as a depiction of how the Koran describes paradise. I hope my husband builds me a paradise one day.

Impressive. Almost floating away like the clouds surrounding it. The structure itself is definitely breathtaking, but the collection of community was even more awe inspiring. People from every inch of the globe coming together to marvel at the #1 wonder of the world (according to an online survey).

As we walked around admiring the marble and prowess, my camera kept finding the smiles and stares of visiting villagers, laughing children, and Italian photographers. I don’t have many words for the Taj Mahal, only images (which are coming soon, still awaiting edits).

We headed home at dark. I fell asleep in the back seat of our van. I awoke having to pee of course (life as a woman). We stopped off at a rest stop, and the smell of burning something streaming from the car tire put our trip back to Delhi to an immediate end. Now, this could have been an epic adventure, but just as we pulled up, so did a bus heading back to the city. And to our luck, they made room for four. Quite a smooth change of plans. Our poor driver was left to figure out how to take care of his broken car, but we were on our way. A quick tuk tuk (small scooter car) ride from the bus stop, and the adventurous day came to an end. I washed my orange feet in the sink and crawled into bed.

Back to Lodhi Garden to start the day. More exploring. A hidden staircase taking me step by step above the rest of the world. What a view! A bit of filming for the RussaYog channel. One local woman joined us for some pranayam. Turns out she is from a well known family. Her husband is the famous tabla player. We actually use his music at the yoga studio. Small world. Very loving and affectionate woman. Hugs and kisses for all. Just the way I like it.

And then a shift. A trip to Old Delhi where the chaos surrounds. Busy bees going to and fro on foot, on bike, on horse, on bullock, in car. We braved the street and crossed with caution. Visited another Sikh temple, Gurudwara Sisganj, this time we took a seat and enjoyed the prayers and music. A wise man at the temple informed us about Sikhism and discussed investigating what meanings are under the surface. “Hidden treasures are always hidden.” Everyday there is a new message outside the temple. A prayer for the day. Today’s was about how true joy in life comes from doing things for others. Sikhism is all about the shared wellness of society.

And then a shift. A crazy rickshaw ride through the narrow, bumpy streets of Old Delhi. Flying by silk and jewelry stores. Colors and smells surrounding the senses. Often coming to standstill as small Indian men pushed huge shipments down the alleys, balanced but threatening disaster at any moment. Everything and everyone inches from my hands. Power lines in tangles overhead. Live chickens being butchered to the left. Arguing store owners to the right. Everything so alive.

And then a shift. Leave the cameras in the car and enter shoeless with head covered and body draped in a decorative hospital gown. Jama Masjid. One of the largest mosques in the world. Since I was cameraless let me paint the picture:

A large plaza with a pond in the middle. Red terracotta-like walls enclosing all four sides. Three round domes standing high in the sky with towers reaching their prowess even higher into the sky. 122 stairs to climb the tight spiral tower staircase, and then, a view of the whole city. Colorful houses. The Red Fort. An epic sprawl from the height of the Mughal empire. Arabic streaming over loud speakers and devotees on their knees bowing towards Mecca.

I hate to admit it, but as the Muslim prayers echoed through the air, the first thing I thought of was Brody…from Homeland. Dang media infiltrating my every moment.

And then a shift. A quick stop at the Delhi World Book Fair where I read a very interesting children’s book. A summary:

There was a young boy from a mother with a “menial job” who would travel a long way everyday to beg. One day on his way home with nothing, he found this pond that magically gave him a pan of food. He ate it and brought it back to his mom. He stopped working and just went to the pond everyday. His mom was pumped. Then one day, the pond was like, what a freeloader, so instead of food that day she put punches, slaps, and kicks in the pan. When he opened it to eat, he got a good beating. He blamed his mom for making him go there everyday, and so he brought the pan home to her, and she got a good beating too. They learned their lesson. The end.

And then a shift. Let the shopping begin! A trip to Janpath, which means everybody’s spot, to stroll the shops and stock up. I was followed by a man selling postcards for about 100 feet. Price started at 150 rupees and ended at 50. Keep an eye out in your mailbox for amazingly kitschy images of “Indian Culture and Folk.” Then onto bigger and better things! Two gorgeous scarves for $7 and my first salwar kameez (traditional clothing, pictures to follow). Finding the perfect one was essential. I headed upstairs in one shop, and the salesman told me to take a seat as he starting showing me pattern after pattern. I had to keep stopping my brain from switching over to Spanish. I am so used to only traveling to foreign Spanish speaking countries. But Hindi words are coming here and there, and a smile says a whole lot. I, of course, settled on a baby blue and pale yellow one with beautiful sunflower-esque embroidery. Definitely a pattern crafted perfectly for me.

And then a shift. Chocolate ice cream to finish off the night. A bit of work, photo uploads, and my new favorite fruit, chikoo, before bed. 6am call time for day four…Agra and the Taj Mahal!

Note: Please excuse capitalization. I typed this on my automatically-corrects-everything iPhone.

6am comes too fast when you went to bed at 2am, but when greeted by a foggy coating hiding mysterious mosques and bright green parrots flapping amongst the trees, the sleepy stupor quickly fades away. today began with a walk through jasprit’s favorite place growing up in delhi as a child, lodhi gardens. a big park full of people doing yoga, working out, strolling, meditating, etc. we joined right in with the locals and started our pranayam (after stopping every minute to take a photograph of course). the movements quickly rejuvenated my body and awakened my senses to the immense beauty surrounding me.

as the sun rose, so did the city. the silence of yesterday’s late night and today’s early morning was gone. replaced by the language of honking horns and hindi. we made our way back to the hotel for a delicious breakfast buffet and chai, perfectly spiced. then a rest. this seems to be how every morning will go. routine. a nice change of pace for me.

onto gurudwara bangla sahib, a sikh temple. an usual feeling of being in such a spiritual setting and not understanding the rituals. take off your shoes, wash your feet, cover your head with a scarf, make an offering. despite jasprit’s attempt to translate the words and prayers being said, i felt like i was missing out on something great. so many people lined up and crowded into a beautiful temple encased in gold. upon exiting, the gift of parsad. a sweetened wheat substance that is very tasty. a symbol of breaking down the caste system. everyone eats together, from the same pot. there is no division. ik onkar, or universal oneness. it is what jasprit teaches in russayog (the style of yoga i am trained in).

everyone drifts to hang out around the man made pond/pool. children laughing. people taking a refreshing dip. and as i was snapping away photo after photo, the tables were turned. we became the celebrities. stares and pointing. all i can do is smile. smile bigger than they smile. teenage indian boys wanting to take a picture with us. indian children coming up to shake our hands.

hands. hands and wrists. jasprit purchased us all a steel bangle or kara. the symbol of thoughts and actions combined to form a continuous circle of linking our thinking to what we do. i don’t usually wear jewelry, but i like this symbol, this simple reminder link mind to body. sort of embodies the ouroboros on my right foot.

and then, the highlight…the bengali market, where i finally had my first authentic indian gulab jamun (sunny this one is for you). indian sweets are delicious. a local recommended rasmalai, which jasprit claimed was “a little better than ice cream.” false. ice cream is still the best thing in the world. but the food is absolutely amazing, and cheap! my meal was 75 rupees or about $1.50.

full bellies mean time for a walk. to india gate to enjoy the array of people. everyone laughing and enjoying the carnival atmosphere. again, becoming celebrities and being stalked (or attacked in sybille’s case) to get henna. children dancing and chasing bubbles. an enchanting police officer thrilled to tell us everything to do in india, and teach me a few important hindi words for a girl like me:

has – laugh
kush – happiness
muskurao – bring a smile to your face
koi baat mahi – no problem

that is all i need to know i think. and maybe shukria, or thank you.

we ended the night in nehru park. a walk through winding dirt paths until dark. a bit of pranayam while the sky faded to an orange haze, and the clouds let a few raindrops slip. it never gets dark here. always something lighting up the way.

according to my computer, i have been flying through the sky for about five hours. that means there is still four more to go followed by a three hour layover in amsterdam followed by seven more hours to delhi. they turned off the cabin lights. it is 6:30pm in portland. i shouldn’t be tired, but i am. stuck in this capsule when time does not exist. we will land in amsterdam, and my body will think it is midnight but it will be 9am. so i should probably sleep right now.

but, my mind is restless.

packed in only a 30 liter backpack and my trusty corduroy jansport. headed to india for a month. everyone wanted to talk to me one last time before i left (sorry for those of you who i missed calling back). wish me luck. ask if i was excited. remind me to bring them back something awesome. tell me it would be a life-changing experience.

all the words just circled around my head as my brain stressed about all the work that needed to get done. can you actually take a month off when you are self-employed? not entirely. finding the balance. that will be the key. remembering that i am experiencing an amazing opportunity, but it is because of my business and amazing clients that i can even go on this trip.

traveling north to south in india with a native. i did not have to plan a thing. emails just appeared in my inbox with updated itineraries, powerpoint presentations, and packing lists. i just continued cramming my days full of work trying to stay focused on the tasks at hand. but now, i am trapped in an airplane. the buzzing hum of the interior lulling my thoughts into silence. making my eardrums and lungs expand. the weird feeling you get when you are too sleepy is setting in. would i be this tired at 6:30pm if i were back in portland on the ground?

what do you do for ten hours in a middle seat? so far i have…

• read four pages of the fountainhead
• wrote in my journal while listening to daisy may
• watched magic mike (slightly awkward to watch on a plane with people sitting next to you)
• ate a pretty decent airplane meal of indian food
• responded to a very well-crafted proposal for my next adventure while listening to sean rowe
• wrote this blog post while listening to the soil and the sun
• watched new woody allen movie, something with rome in the title

estoy cansado. tengo mucho sueno.

time to give into the false night they have provided. five hours to sleep before they serve breakfast. maybe jet lag and i will become friends and not enemies.

day one has begun.

addendum.
we arrived at the delhi airport at 1am. our driver informed us that the hotel had moved us to a different hotel without us knowing. welcome to india! turns out this hotel is nicer anyways. so now we are at hotel gulnar in karol bahg outside of delhi. in bed by 2am and after a 20 hour day of travel, you would think sleeping in would be a must…but no. jasprit (my yoga teacher) and his wife teresa want us up by 6:30am.

good night dogs barking. good night horns honking. welcome to india.