A place to call home - March 08

Behind the picture frame in my room which holds a tattered Egyptian picture painted on cotton, lives possibly the largest spider I have ever seen. Every evening he comes out from behind his lair and makes his presence known. He is the king of many other, slightly smaller fellows who roam the other nooks and crevaces in the walls. We all live together in harmony in my basement hideaway which backs onto the forest in the village of Jhodi Gaon near Dehra Dun. It's a pleasure to finally have a place to unpack my backpack, put my toothbrush out and make my own cup of chai.

Since I arrived here after my trip to Nepal, I've been in the service of Mr Swamy. He's the 73 year old gentleman who runs the NGO I'm working for with help from his wife. This man has got more energy than I have ever had and it is absolutely astonishing the rate at which his mind churns over excellent new ideas and initiatives. He works entirely on faith. He believes that as long as he keeps doing good work, God will provide the means and the funds...and until now he has. So, I'm here trying to keep up with this man and live up to these very high expectations he has of me.

In a nutshell, the NGO is enhancing lives within the community by helping children through education and empowering women through skill development. At the moment, I'm working with students from 5 or 6 to about 17 trying to establish some good programmes for the teachers to use in their classes. The philosophy is that it's not a school, but a place where the students can get a break from the often monotonous education style, and develop their minds in a different way. We try to give them good English communication skills, computer training, good nutrition, yoga classes and the environment to be inquisitive and progressive-thinking. www.purkal.org

Besides all the teaching, I'm getting involved with every aspect of the running of an NGO and am learning a great deal every day I ride my scooter up into the hills to visit this magical little village full of smiling children.

I miss the new sights and the excitement of constantly moving, but this life is hugely more fulfilling and rewarding.

Out of Kerala - Jan 08

If I wouldn't have had the best Indian breakfast of Idlys, Sambar and coconut chutney and a pleasant morning strolling around the spectacular temple grounds at Madurai watching the ritual unfold during a Hindu festival, and had a delicious coffee from a stand by the temple - this mail would consist of me moaning about the spit-stained walls of my hotel room and my lack of sleep due to vicious mosquitoes fighting for my blood in this dirty, polluted city.

After a stress-free week in the ashram and a beautiful week of sunshine and sea at Varkala, where I enjoyed all the tourist luxuries, ate fish and had some great company, it's a bit of a culture shock to be back on the road again. I took the train from Trivandrum to Madurai last night, sharing my seats with a wonderful Keralan family of husbands, wives, sisters, children and cousins all on their way to enjoy a few days of holiday at a temple town about 3 hours from here. Entering the state of Tamil Nadu, the secenery changed completely from palm trees, water and rice-fields to craggy, mist-covered mountains dotted with statues of the Virgin Mary and looking more like the highlands of Scotland than how you'd imagine south India.

I've now booked a flight back to Delhi from Chennai on Feb 4th and will be taking a short tour of Tamil Nadu in the next 10 days or so. I feel like I've earned a bit of luxury after travelling down most of the length of India by bus and train and a two hour flight sounds much more appealing than a 35 hour train journey at the moment.

Sitting outside the temple in Trivandrum yesterday reading my copy of Time magazine I realised how easy it is to find places to just sit and be around smiling, humble people. Around Kerala and South India especially you can just while away the hours watching the locals laugh and playfight, while the beautiful women walk past shaded under an umbrella in the blazing sun. Whenever you've had a stressful time that's all you need to do and you're smiling again.

I'm off to Kodai this afternoon, which is a cool hill station with some nice jungle walks. Time to walk off all those cakes and ice-creams that I've been eating at the beach and get out of the heat for a bit. A bit of empathy for you lot stuck in the English winter. I think the temperature drops to about 6 or 7 degrees at night. Out with the wooly hat!

love
Guy

PS. I found a shop that sells international CDs! Managed to get a copy of The Doors, Neil Young and Bob Dylan. Been listening to Nick Drake for about a month so nice to have some fresh music!

The visa run - feb 08

I arrived back in Delhi at the beginning of Feb after saying a tearful farewell to South India, to which I will definitely return before long. I flew from Chennai after my good friends Wil and Laura kindly let me sleep on their hotel room floor for a few hours before my flight. Arrived back in Delhi and it almost felt like coming home. The chaos, the pollution, the vast array of moving colours and the throngs of people negotiating their way effortlessly through every street and pavement only brought a smile to my face. I think I might feel this way only because Delhi is always just a stopover to somewhere new for me. From there I travelled to Dehra Dun and up to Purkal (the village where I'll be working for the next 6 months). I was welcomed with open arms by Mr and Mrs Swamy (who run the NGO) and started to get used to the incredible home comforts of delicious home-cooked south Indian food, a big cosy double bed, my own bathroom and two homely dogs to cuddle in the evening. Mr Swamy immediately got me working and involved in as much as possible. I have taught a few classes, been to a fundraising conference, revised the website, looked at the basics of budgeting, set up some meetings with the teachers and will do much more when I get back.

Now I'm in Khatmandu, in Nepal. I travelled over day and night by train to get to the Nepal-Indo border and since I had an unconfirmed ticket (the joys of the Indian Rail system!), I had nowhere to sit or sleep until about 4am so found myself drifting from edge of seat to corridor and occasional berth like a sleep-deprived ghost for most of the journey. The bus journey to the border was partly through some beautiful farming villages forgotten by time where we teetered along a dirt track just wide enough for 2 bicycles, and you had to lean to the opposite side to stop the bus from falling down the steep ditches on either side (felt like that anyway). At one point we stopped at a railway track waiting for a train to pass, and as I sat at the back and gazed out of the window, three little boys trundled past the bus and walked up a levelled pile of rocks next to the tracks. When they reached the top, they all sat in a row, pulled their pants down and proceeded to proudly defecate looking towards the bus whilst throwing the rocks to the floor. When they were done they simultaneously pulled their trousers up and continued on their merry way.

Crossing the border was relatively easy but there have been various problems here in Nepal with the upcoming elections looming. The road from the border to Khatmandu is closed with tankers being set ablaze etc., there are fuel strikes causing massive traffic jams, there are power cuts for about 8 hours every day and there is a general sense of uncertainty which you can feel in the air. So I spent a night in a rat dropping infested room by the border and headed to Pokhara at 6am the next morning. I met a jolly nice English couple on the bus and after a couple of nights recovering and enjoying the spotless hotel rooms and western comforts in peaceful lakeside Pokhara (like a land of plenty compared with India!), we embarked on a 4 day trek in the Annapurna area of the Himalayas. It was hard work at times, and I suffered a bit from the altitude when we reached above 3200 metres. On day 1 we reached our destination completely exhausted and were staying in a tea house in a small village. We all sat around the wood stove and warmed up whilst drinking tea and playing chess and I decided to put my shoes nearby to warm them up. Despite several warnings from our guide Krishna, I put them closer and closer until next thing I knew there was black smoke coming out from under my shoes. I grabbed them quickly and poured cold water over them. By some miracle only the toungue and the laces on one shoe were destroyed and the inside remained intact. Of course my shoe was now soaking wet, but we managed to dry it and repair it with a bit of gaffer tape and a new lace and I'm still wearing them now.

The views and landscape we explored was absolutely breathtaking, ranging from Lord of the Rings type forests to vast mountain peaks with epic waterfalls and gushing streams. I'll show you the money shot when I get back to Dehra Dun.

This evening I just got back from a documentary screening at the Khatmandu teaching Medical Hospital. I met the film-maker on the bus last night and he invited me to this screening that was for the local students. It was a film about the encroachment of Nepal's borders throughout history: first by the British East India Company and now by the Indian government. It was absolutely educational and I learnt that even the area where I'll be living in India was once part of Nepal. It was inspiring to see the reactions of the young students who all went away invigorated and more aware, full of questions and energy. I'll get a copy of the film to show those who are interested.

Off for dinner!

Catch that bus - Jan 07

After a blissful week in the mountains of Kodai, where I huddled next to a fireplace and walked along waterfalls and streams and ate homemade chocolates, I was sad to hit the road again.

I got to Pondicherry at about 5am yesterday morning. Had to get 3 buses from Kodai so had been travelling all afternoon and night, but was with a nice friend I'd met in Kodai so that was good. Half way we stopped for a few hours at the Villupuram bus station to while away some time before morning. After geting a rickshaw to the station to check if ther was an early train (no) and waking up some guesthouse owners to see if they had a room (no! In fact one very firmly told me to get out!) we decided to just drink tea and chat to the nice guys at the shop by the bus station. At 4 am Paul and I decided to get on our respective buses and said our farewells. Onthe way to Pondicherry my head kept banging against the handrail as I dropped off, squashed up against the window and with a man falling asleep on my shoulder. I ran off the bus after someone woke me up at Pondicherry bus stand, and got immediately accosted by rickshaw drivers as is normally the case. I said "give me 5 minutes to wake up", threw my bag on the floor and sat down on the curb to get my senses together. As I was looking around I noticed something was wrong. I was feeling around my pockets and couldn't find my wallet. I looked in my bag but was sure I'd had it in my trouser pocket. I knew it must have fallen out on the bus which was long gone...

So I jumped in the rickshaw and asked him if he knew where the bus was going. He did, so I said "Follow that bus!" - it was the first time I've been in a chase situation and it was certainly exciting as the wind blew through the open sides of the rickshaw and we overtook trucks, buses and motorbikes. We went about 2 km and the bus wasn't where it was supposed to be. "3 km more!" the rickshaw drivershouted and he hurtled down the quiet streets of Pondicherry. Finally, we got to where the bus had stopped and I ran onto the bus where the conductor was counting his money and writing down his accounts. Searched around on the floor and couldn't see the wallet and was about to give up when I saw it poking out from between the seat and the window. Relief and joy were my initial reactions and I thanked the driver, got back in the rickshaw and told the driver to take me to the beach. As I got off at the promenade where people were doing their morning exercises and walks, it was just starting to get light. I chucked my backpack on the wall next to the unattractive beach of rocks and lay down next to the other people who choose to sleep on the beach because they don't have homes and they work in the city.

Woke up and watched the sunrise over the misty horizon and at about 10am I made my way to Pulumkupam, a small suburb of Pondy where a friend I met in Goa is living with an Indian boyfriend and his family. They're building a cultural centre where they can teach traditional martial arts, yoga, indian herbal medicines and where people can stay and learn about Tamil culture. It's a stunning spot 5 minutes from the sea and surrounded by banana trees and animals of all shapes and sizes. Mamma feeds us every mealtime and we spend the rest of the day working on building the huts, clearing the land and feeding the cows. The milkman comes twice a day to milk them and takes it to Pondy to sell. It's a simple but hugely satisfying way of life and I've been welcomed with open arms. The only downside is that the mosquitoes don't rest all day and night, but that's s minor complaint...

Life at the ashram - Jan 07

3.00 am - Amma finishes giving her darshan ceremony after sitting on stage hugging and speaking to thousands of people since 10am the previous day without a toilet break, fag break or food. There is a big closing song and prayer as the Bhajans finish and as my room is directly behind where all this takes place I finally get a moments peace.

4.30 am - Archana (chanting) begins and is broadcast on a loudspeaker directly behind my room. The chants are loud but I'm lulled into a kind of semi-state of consciousness and look around my dorm room to see everyone else sleeping soundly.

5.30am - My alarm goes off.

6 am - I begin my Seva. Each inhabitant of this huge ashram on the edge of the Keralan backwaters and the sea - an ominous group of tower blocks rising from the palm trees - is encouraged to do some kind of selfless service. This involves anything from washing up to painting the temple or helping with the laundry. I have to stack the chairs in the canteen and sweep the floors with Sahadev (that's his spiritual name - he's from California) which takes approximately 2 hours.

8 am - Yoga practice

10am - Breakfast in the Western Canteen. There is free Indian food available for breakfast, lunch and dinner but the western canteen is run by some devotees of Amma's who happen to bake some of the best cakes, cookies and pancakes I've ever had.

11am - Satsang in the temple. Amma is worshipped because of her deemed enlightenment and closeness to God and she gives a spiritual talk, preceded by meditation in the temple. The talk covers topics like the place of women in society and male and female emotional repsonsibility. I left early.

1am - Lunchtime.

5 pm - Meditation on the beach while the sun sets.

6.30pm - Bhajans. Amma leads some spiritual songs while hundreds of people sit and watch her/meditate and look on in awe.

8pm - Dinner.

9.30 - Bedtime.

I must say it's an absolutely fascinating place to spend some time, and I went up for the hug a couple of nights ago. You could definitely feel some amazing energy and the next day I felt very positive and made some important decisions that I'd been hesitating about for a while. There are many people staying here from all over the world, many of whom seem a little unbalanced and lost, but there are also a lot of very clear-minded, intelligent individuals who treat Amma as their spiritual guru. It's been great to have a daily purpose again after months of travelling around just consuming and looking at others working, and I've found this strange place a wonderful place to focus and get my energy back after a manic couple of weeks.

http://www.amritapuri.org/

check it out for yourselves...

love

Guy (no spiritual name yet...)

The art of traipsing and other stories - Jan 08

There are some things that are universal, like kids waving at trains and a smile that sparks up a good conversation. Travelling from Bangalore to Cochin today in the second class carriage I saw probably the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. This was the India of my imagination; rice fields that go on forever with local villagers slaving away in the hot sun, rocky rivers where the women are washing their saris, rolling hills stretching into the distance and music filling the train carriage as a man sings and plays the tambourine sublimely.

Bangalore was a hectic, fast-moving city where I had a couple of objectives (to try for a visa extension and change my flight) and I spent much of yesterday traipsing around in the blazing heat settling now and then in one of the many coffee places for a break. The attempt to extend my visa was mercilessly brief as they told me I have about 99% chance of being refused even if I got o the home office in Delhi and therefore the flight chnge was off. I was staying in a youth hostel sharing a room with a group of Keralan students and a Sikh and a guy from Uttar Pradesh who work in Bangalore. As usual with young Indian men they were full of energy, questions and huge smiles and I got little sleep, especially on the second night when the UP chap came back drunk and threw up all over the place and fell asleep in his own mess. My rucksack got some of the shrapnel but my stuff got away mostly unscathed. I was left a little dejected and thought that I'd probably have to come home at the end of the month which may still be a possibility, but I'm banking on going to Nepal when my visa runs out to get a new one.

The couple of days after leaving Goa, I spent in Hampi, a stunning boulder-strewn paradise in the heart of Karnataka with a beautiful river running through it and a sprawl of ancient ruins and temples that you could spend weeks wandering around. The stars at night there were crystal clear and I got into the Indian breakfast which consists of Puris, Idlies and chutney (look them up if you're not sure - it's delicious). Now I'm in Cochin where I arrived at sunset and took a ferry across the harbour to the fort area. The Keralan people seem much more relaxed and calm than the people in the north and there's not so much staring and gawking the further south I get.

Will spend a day here enjoying some fish and soaking up the Portuguese, Dutch and Jewish architecture before moving on to Kollam for a backwater cruise and a stay in Amma's ashram. She's a living saint who has become famous for her hugs.

Christmas 07

Christmas in Goa has been pleasant and understated for me, and I managed to miss out on the all night & day trance parties. I spent christmas eve having dinner with some friends and watching some live Indian classical music and then wandered home on the beach. Goa is really like taking a holiday away from India and although it's been great to meet some fellow travellers and bask in the sun, I have begun to miss the things taht make me love this country. I have spent a few days exploring Goa on my scooter, and when you get away from the beach you see the beauty of this state with it's quiet lanes and palm-shaded rivers, where the people seem entirely relaxed in the gentle rhythm of their lives.

I've been doing a yoga course here for the last week and have just started the second week. It means a 6am start every morning (including New Years Day) but with the many benefits I gained from the course I did in Rajpur it has been complementary and a return to the foundations, which is vital to keep doing I think. Every teacher has a different language and style and I find it fascinating to experience these subtle differences, but with the same basic spiritual and physical basis.

I'll be leaving Goa on Jan 3rd if all goes according to plan and continuing first to Hampi and then further south to Kerala. In February I will be returning to Uttranchal (in the Himalayan foothills) to take up a teaching position with a charity for 6 months in a small village.

Being away on my own has led me on a fascinating path and sometimes I feel isolated, although most of the time the Indian people have made me feel so welcome and embraced me into their company. Still, at christmas time you miss your friends and family the most and even though New Years Eve is usually a bit of an anti-climax I'll miss enjoying the anti-climax with the people I love ;)

Hippies, scooters and cows on the beach

Can you guess where it is yet? Managed to find my way to Goa on a 10 hour train from Mumbai. Enjoyed a couple of days being a tourist in Mumbai, which is an exciting, cosmopolitan city that made me feel quite at home. Sometimes it feels like New York or London and at other times it could only be India.

Spent my day yesterday driving around Goa on my scooter with an American girl that I met a couple of months ago. Sat on the beach and watched the musclebound russians with their beautiful topless girlfriends sitting next to a couple of cows and ageing hippies. Don't suppose that's a scene you'd see anywhere else. It's difficult to escape the cliched Goa things; tie-dyed t shirts, long-haired folk, trance parties and drug-addled youths, but at the same time if you spend a bit of time exploring the island you realise it's a beautiful place with a rich culture of its own.

The police are good fun too, stopping tourists on scooters most evenings and demanding bribes, so I've kept to cabs or walking in the evenings. A young swedish kid lost his phone and 4000 rupees on one such occasion so he learnt the hard way.

I'll probably end up staying here for christmas because I'm succumbing to the luxuries of a hot shower and some western food and cheap beer, so send all relief packages to Guy c/o Arambol beach, Goa.

There's a rat in my...

Looking at the map, I think I've pretty much scaled half of India now. I'm resting my weary pins for a couple of days in a place called Nasik, not far from Mumbai. It's the first city I've been to for a while that I've warmed to and felt at home. Nasik has a more cosmopolitan atmosphere than amny of the places I've been to and the people are a bit calmer, the women more beautiful and the climate just about right..and just when I was getting bored of eating guavas, papayas and bananas every day, I've found somewhere where they grow the juiciest figs I've ever tasted!

On my first night here I was having a "moment" standing on Victoria bridge overlooking the holy Godavari river, remembering the view from Waterloo bridge when a strange, drunk man holding a bottle of something in a bag came and stood next to me. Having been in India for some time you start to become very used to everyone and their cousin's dog trying to talk to you so I just attempted a broken conversation with him, assuming he was just another friendly chap wanting to talk to Johnny foreigner. He talked about the water. I agreed there was lots of it. We laughed and smiled for a couple of minutes before I felt this wasn't quite right. I looked down and realised he was holding his hand a bit too close to my privates and was gesturing lewdly with his tongue whilst giving me a wink. That was when I made a swift exit, quite angry that he's ruined my contemplative reverie.

I spent several days in Mandu in Madhya Pradesh, which was once one of the biggest cities in the world on the trading route across the east. Now the village only has a population of about 8000, mostly farmers and local tribespeople who are surrounded by the most incredible afghan mosques, tombs and buildings everywhere you look. It was also one of most beautiful natural places I'd been to with very little traffic, beautiful lakes and amazing views over the valleys surrounding it. Have a search on google if you want to see some pics. When I get settled I'll sort out my photos and finally give in to facebook.

Unfortunately whilst in Mandu I came down with a fever, which lasted 24 hours, turned my guts inside out and left me shivering in my bed with a bucket next to me for what seemed like a lifetime. As the night dragged on painfully, I awoke to the sound of something scurrying about and making strange high pitched noises. I'd heard this a few nights before and hoped it was outside. I scrambled around for my torch and turned it on to see what was going on. Nothing was immediatedly visible, then I shined it next to me and there was this pointy, whiskered snout staring at me from beneath the corner of the pillow next to mine. I had about as much energy as a man close to death, but managed to thrash about a bit and scare the little blighter away. Understandably I didn't sleep much after that and decided to leave Mandu as soon as I got my strength back.

I'm sure you're all in the throws of Christmas shopping and watching repeats of the Only Fools and Horses christmas specials. I've seen no evidence of Christmas at all so it hasn't really felt relevant to me. I think I'll be on a beach somewhere in Karnataka or Goa hopefully, eating some fresh fish and maybe even treating myself to a beer.

btw. I was just getting the hang of some Hindi, picking up words here and there, when suddenly I'm in a place where they speak an entirely different language (Marathi) and I'm completely in the dark again!

Bho! Pal

Just got into a city again so treated myself to a proper hotel room so I could have my first shower in about a month. I have washed but usually with cold water in a bucket and you don't get the same experience it must be said.

Just had a great train journey from Sanchi to Bhopal with the usual mixture of experiences. Bundled my way on at the station into the general class cabin, where everyone and their dogs are sitting in every available corner. The sounds of an Indian train are the usually cocophony of chatter and movement, highlighted by the salesmen who come through the cabin every now and then shouting "Chai! Chai!" or selling anything from popcorn to fruit to peanuts. A small boy scuttles along the floor, sweeping all of the peanut shells and rubbish up from underneath your feet. Most people don't give him anything but he occasionally gets a rupee here and there. Men lean out of the window to spit out the gunk created by their betel nut or tobacco chewing. Others smoke their beedies out of the door to the chagrin of some of the ladies in the cabin. A young, bright-eyed child sitting with his brother asks for "pannee" (water), pointing to a man who he saw drinking some. I take a sip from my bottle too and he stares
at me longingly, so I offer him some. He goes to grab the massive bottle, but his father just cups his hand in from of the boy's mouth as I pour it in. "More? More?". The boy nods continuously. I think it's been a while since he had any. He has a newfound energy after that and looks positively refreshed.

Above me, two well dressed young student boys are sitting on the luggage rack. One is leaning on the other and he starts to give him a massage letting him lean back in his lap and continuing for about a half hour. Contact is natural here between friends, even between strangers...there's no choice. These two have only known each other for 15 days but are already the closest of friends. In england they'd be dismissed as gay, but here they're just friends looking after eachother, conscious of their needs.

Suddenly the train stops. The sun has been setting over the Madyha Pradesh vast countryside of epic fields of crops, palm trees, small villages, boys playing cricket...I think dusk is when India is at it's most beautiful. The colours in faces, nature and even in cities just seem to be at their peak at this time. We end up waiting as it becomes pitch black in the cabin. I'm chatting to the two students, who are asking me questions about England. About what I think India needs to do to improve things, about the state of the economy in England, about racism in London, about what I love and hate about India and many more thought provoking things.

We end up waiting in the dark 4 kms before Bhopal station for a couple of hours. Anywhere else I might feel a bit unnerved or uncomfortable, but I just continue chatting to people, including a young boy who is coming to Bhopal for his cousin's wedding. Some people have taken to the tracks and are walking the distance to town...(just saw a big rat scuttle down the stairs at this internet cafe). I wait and eventually we move at a snails pace and pull in to the busy station.

These moments are what makes this trip amazing. If you just sit in your hotel room or become too static, you miss these experiences.

Rajasthan

Just got back to Bundi after my first cycle ride in India. It was a daunting prospect at first, but once we'd learnt to dodge the cows and rickshaws we managed to settle into it and enjoy the ride. The scenery around Bundi is beautiful - vast fields of sugar cane, small villages dotted along the way and some lakeside shady lanes to cool you down when it gets too hot. Then suddenly you'll be in the middle of the desert and the sun is beating down on your head and it's time to find a shady chai stall and cool down. Definitely one of the best ways to see this wonderful country when you're outside of the city.

Left the Pushkar camel fair a couple of days ago. That was a tumultuous, crowded affair filled with tourists and thousands of camels and their owners camped on the outskirts of the bustling town. The highlight was getting up at 4.30am to watch the sunrise from a temple on a hill above the town. A rare moment of peace and serenity watching the camel traders and their beasts making their way into town along the sandy desert roads.

Thinking about my next move but I'm happy for the moment staying at a lovely, family-run haveli where the young kids are enjoying practicing their English and you can sit in the courtyard in the shade and fight off the mosquitoes while drinking some tea. I had a serious bout of stomach trouble in Jaipur last week, but thankfully it was out of the system in 24 hours.

I miss you all...keep me in the loop with your news

The Punbus

So there i was in the sleepy, mountain village enjoying the luxuries of being cooked for every day, walking through the mountain village to my yoga classes and going to bed at 8.30pm, when I had to make the harsh decision to leave and for some reason head into the mouth of Hades.

The Punbus (short for Punjab Bus) took me to Amritsar, a dusty polluted place where my white t-shirt soon became yellow. On the way I spent a night in Chandigargh with a friend from the yoga course and saw how a 28 year old indian bachelor lives. Chandigargh is the only planned city in India and was designed by a Frenchman who obvioulsy had little imagination or taste. It's basically just a load of grids and prides itself on being a city with no poor people, no litter and no smoking. It was a bizarre experience and genuinely feels like being in Europe, with Nike shops, bars and plenty of consumerism. Amritsar is home to the Golden Temple, the Sikh mecca and it is absolutely breathtaking, and an amazing organisational feat. I'm sleeping in a free dormitory in the Temple surrounded by thousands of rooms and pilgrims sleeping on every available space of floor. The dining hall caters to 1000 people at a time 24 hours a day. you queue up for your plate and cup, line up in the hundreds on the floor and get a dollup of dal some chapatis and if you're lucky some rice pudding. Happy Days...and you don't even have to pay. Open to any race, colour, creed or status.

This afternoon I went to the Pakistan border which is only 30km from here and watched the Border crossing ceremony with lots of guards goose-stepping like a Monty Python sketch. It was strange being at the border and seeing all of the Muslims on the other side, looking very plain compared to the colourfully dressed Indians on our side.

Unfortunately I have to venture back to Delhi tomorrow morning. going to try to change my flight, then travel down to Rajasthan for the Camel Fair in Pushkar.

More news when there's not a load of curious people looking over my shoulder.

Day 4 in the yogi brother house - October 07

So...I made it past day 1 which was pretty challenging, and I'm still standing tall and have been broken yet. It's a bit like yoga bootcamp here. More than half of the class are yoga teachers or training to be teachers and the rest have been practicing for more than a few years, so it's definitely keeping me on my toes. The teachers are truly incredible, totally breaking down any pre-conceptions that you have of teaching and teaching you to teach yourself. I won't wax lyrical about the yoga classes too much as it will mean very little to most of you and i can see you skipping to the end of this mail as I write. If you want to hear more send me a mail...

I'm in Rajpur at the moment and have seen relatively little of the outside world apart from the walk up the hill to the yoga school, and the locals who go about their lives as a bunch of yogis walk around in their back gardens. Rajpur is a stunning, peaceful place in the mountains and has a lovely mixed community of Hindu, Sikh and Muslim Indians and quite a few Tibetans too.

I can think of very little else but what position my toes and shoulder blades should be in at the moment so am going to sign off. I'll mail you on the other side!

Where the streets are paved with cowshite - October 2007

I've got too much time on my hands i know, but it's too hot to be outside today so I ducked into an internet cafe to send you all a quick newsflash. I arrived in Rishikesh today, the "yoga capital of the world". Every other building is an ashram or yoga and mediatation school and every other person is an Israeli tourist. This is the first touristy plae I've been to since I was at the Taj Mahal. Spent the last week or so in places where there were only a handful of travellers so this is a bit of a shock to the system. It seems to detract from the experience a little, but the place itself is absolutely stunning. Nestled in the mountains alongside the Ganges, it has some spectacular views and beautiful villages nearby.

I spent yesterday in a place further down the river called Haridwar where I watched an evening prayer ceremony in which thousands of people came to swim in the Ganges and give offerings to the Hindu gods. I een got dragged into the Ganges by some Indian guy and his wife, but no serious diseases contracted as of yet.

Gotta go...the power has just gone in this cafe!

Love

Guy

Vest

You know you're nearing middle age when you start feeling very comfortable wearing a vest under your shirt, but it has become necessary in the last week. There's a sudden chill in the air in Rajpur, the village where I am slowly becoming a local. The cold that occurs in the mountains here in India is unlike any I've experienced in Europe, and even when the sun is shining you can feel it deep in your bones.

This month is full of festivals and weddings, and there is an atmosphere of excitement and joy which is infectious. Today is the festival of .... when wives dress up in beautiful saris and lots of jewelry for their husbands and pray to god that he won't look at any other women. The woman will fast for the day and maybe it's a lucky night for the husband...

One of the most admirable qualities of the people I spend my time with here is their ability to feel every emotion so deeply that it feels like a matter of life and death. When you study the words of many of the Hindi songs which I am getting to know, they are so full of beautifully expressed emotion and love that I'm sure Shakespeare would be listening to Bollywood soundtracks if he were alive today. However, coming from a country where emotions are usually packed up tidily out of sight, it has been hard to adjust to working here. This week has seen tears, heated arguments, shouting and many tense faces at PYDS and most weeks are the same. I find that I have to be constantly aware of how I talk to people, as a flippant comment can cause enough drama and unhappiness to last a lifetime.

I'm not in the habit of asking for charity from friends, but since I'm not going to run a marathon and I'm in a position to see hands on where every penny goes, I'm making one little appeal. We're currently running a "Fund a Meal" programme which gives people the opportunity to pay for a day's food for all of our 140 children. I did it on both of my parents' birthdays as a present to them, and dedicated the lunch to them. It costs 1500 rupees (which is about £20) and we have accounts in the UK and the US so there's no problem transferring the money. We've got a target of 200 meals to be funded by the end of October and we're on about 60 at the moment. Some people have done it to remember people who have passed away or to celebrate an anniversary or something like that. Whoever the meal is dedicated to will receive a mail with a photo of the children enjoying their food. If you're interested drop me a mail with the dates you want to fund and I'll sort it out.

Outside my window, some men are just mixing up some paint in a big bucket to prepare to paint our house for Diwali, which is the biggest event in the Hindu calender. It's a festival of light which celebrates the ancient vanquishing of the evil Ravana who ruled the earth, by the brave Rama (who was an incarnation of Vishnu). There will be fireworks as far as the eye can see and the mountains will be lit up all around us. My little 7 year old friend, Sona, who was my neighbour in my old home, has decided I have to spend the day with him, so I've told him to come up to my house for the evening as we're on top of a hill so have a great view of the valley.

New photos up on my picasa if you want to have a butchers.