Back to mumbai for a flight....

So if I was at all worried about coming home 5 days of serious diarrhea, a body swollen with bed bugs bites, temperatures soaring well over 40 degrees and the only rude people in all of India (of course I'm talking about the owners of the Salvation Army hostel in Mumbai) are making things a little easier.

Some of it was my own fault - going to a wedding in the slum and dancing my head off for hours without having eaten anything for days can cause the human body to give up on itself the next day. 36hrs of fevered, sweaty, hallucinogenic sleep though and I'm able to eat a little bit.

I was due to be a dancer in Bollywood but just before I was introduced to the female heroine I had to dissapear to the toilet urgently. Bummer. And never returned to do any filming. :( Tonight I hopefully move into the slums for one final stay with my buddy and family there.

Here are a few pics

Mumbai and goodbye

Protests and fun

Protest and trip to Delhi

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Other than playing music every day going hard core at a protest to free tibet and teaching English to monks life's been very simple.

I've started on my way home now.... 8days to go.

And I thought I wouldn't get to see Tibet

MCCloud Ganj

(As ever click and view all.....)

My last few weeks in India have been dedicated to purification. Yoga every day, cycling in the mountains, eating Mo mo’s the food of Gods and the Deli Lama – who’s ever present in his adopted new home after the Chinese occupation of Tibet, Mcloud Ganj.

Snow topped mountains surround this bustling village with monks flowing like a river through the centre in their blood red gowns. It’s not the first time these monks have seen rivers of blood – slaughter, torture and assault were daily life in Tibet and still is to an extent. Most refugees here have a harrowing story to tell.

My 2nd day here a monk ran into me saying he’d had a dream about me the previous night – a guy in yellow on a bike – and the Deli Lama told him to find me. He invited me to dinner and told me of his days of torture and then gave me a bag full of gifts that I couldn’t refuse. I still have no idea what on earth happened for those few hours – very strange indeed.

My other exposure to the Monks was cycling up the huge hill – the monks gave me high fives all the way to the top!! Awesome!! And motivating.

Other than that I’ve been playing small instruments with a cool gang, helping out a little with programs here to help the refugees (I start teaching English in a few days).

Yoga continues to be pain upon pain, as do the continuous hills on the bike. But I’m looking fresh and feeling fresher and really beginning to look forward to seeing everyone back home. :)

Holi Sh*t!!

Holi Shit

(Click to have your brains blown away with colour (and smiles)!!!)

Holi Monkey Dingle Danglers – was today the day I was born for? I think so.

A festival of colour and water. Oh what fun. It was like a colourful snowball fight. In 35 degrees heat.

I was up way before the students so took the time to paint my nails and add eyeliner – it’s not traditional but I thought it’d be fun. I could hear the kids screaming outside and ran to grab one of my pump action water pistols – I’d bought 7, slowly finding bigger and bigger ones as I travelled north, and also spent the morning filling up balloons with water so equipped myself with a bag of those.

I charged outside with a few bags of powder attached to my belt ready to do a Rambo on these kids. I underestimated their ability and grace. I was on the floor covered in every colour under the sun and soaking wet before you can say – Tally Ho!!!

The commotion raised the dead and students alike, and together we fought. I’d been looking forward to playing with the kids in the slum I’d met the previous day and formed a small band to tackle them.

Boooom!!! We hit them hard – in their poor state without the money to buy paint and with little water we had the upper hand until we shared our goodies. Then the slum erupted in the brightest display since the Big Bang. (Talking of Bang – marijuana milk shakes is traditional fuel for such a fight, bang lassies – everyone young and old take them, served from the uni canteen and numerous stalls across the town)

I don’t think I need to mention any more…. Just look at the pictures. As normal there are one or two smiles amongst the pictures…

Brilliant India!!

Awesome India

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Leaving the school for the last time this trip was tough. I found myself crying at my last assembly watching the faces laughing, singing, smiling, dancing.

But new adventures await. Not least getting public transport again. The worst kind of adventure. Stress heaped upon stress. But I got through it and found myself in Ahmedabad – a city not renowned for its tourism or fun loving nature.

I was meeting up with a fire fairy, the French Connection and friends at the National institute for Design where they all study.

The first night I wanted to see the town for myself, before I was cooked delicious French Cuisine, and headed to the old part. In typical Indian style there was a festival going on. A Muslim one this time. People were drumming and dancing themselves into a frenzy and when I joined in with both it got totally out of control. I was being grabbed by everyone and pulled in a million directions. I could feel my clothes tearing and my joints loosening.

This was fun to begin with but as more and more people got involved and breathing became a struggle I started to get scared, my smile fell away and I started to fight. Pushing, shoving, pulling, tugging myself free of their grasp. I saw a window and moved swiftly up a street. The carnival was heading in the opposite direction so I felt I was safe – but no…. the carnival split in two. The people in front of me headed in the direction they originally planned and the half behind me changed and followed the white guy who plays drums like Phil Collins and dances like an angel. Right?

It was like a movie chase scene but at walking pace. I took a few lefts and rights down side street wide enough for just 2 or 3 people and eventually found myself lost but free from the crowd.

The day after I took the toys Angela designs to the slum for a photo shoot. Welcomed into houses for tea, and milking the goat had to be done first but then the shoot began. Awesome!! Check them out!!

Toys

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That night we danced round a fire with the slum children then students – I, dressed in my white Lungi and Kurta that I’d bought Dad for a pressie, played with the Fire Sticks. I managed within the space of about 3 seconds to set myself alight without noticing!! Angela came running with fear on her face, I had no idea why, and ran into one of the sticks setting her jumper alight. I then realised my naughty bits were getting warm and saw that my lungi was alight!! Rolling in sand and patting helped immensely.

Finally at the end of a chaotic day, that’s quite normal for India one of the boys who’d been drumming came and rubbed a few handfuls on coloured powder onto my head and beard. Holi had begun!!

Sorry Dad – the white Lungi is smoke black with mud on the bum, and the Kurta is pink. Still want it??

Bent invasion (ohh naughty)

Back at school

(As ever click for whole load of new pics)
After a week away it was back to the school. Within the hour I’d milked the cow, sung and danced tribal songs, learnt to play the drum, been invited on another schools camp and generally tired myself out again. This continued for a while longer until it was time for a holiday again. This time with the folks and my little sis.

As you can imagine there were lots of hugs and smiles, but plenty more besides.

Within 30 minutes we found ourselves on a perfect beach being welcomed by dolphins, and as the days progressed saw wildlife galore on a safari, stayed in a treehouse 40ft above the ground, were welcomed to a wedding, another engagement party and a Festival at an ashram. Helping at school, visiting the tribal village Chembakoli M&D&Nat will sleep for the next month.

Either my luck is hereditary or the closeness of family meant it rubbed off on their arrival. Every step taken led us somewhere new and wonderful, surrounded by people who radiate love and affection. This luck was only emphasised by the unfortunateness of some of those you see along the way.

Beggars, victims of severe disabilities or injuries. We had to drive round a guy lying on the road looking like a child pretending to be a dead cockroach on his back with his arms and legs rigid above his torso – only difference being that this man was dead and allowed to lie on the street with no help at all (another victim of the Indian roads - highlighting how dangerous my cycling through India was – no one stops when they hit people as the villagers are known to come out and savage the car and occupants if the victim is one of their own).

Then you see those making the most of what they’ve been given – disabled and blind, a band came to the ashram and sang and played music that made your emotions rise and fall like a ship riding a storm ridden ocean.

Nat is back at school but Mum and Dad decided to stay at the Ashram – I wondering whether they'll ever leave India?!

Super Cool

Verkala

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Taking the few lessons at the school and having to make a decision whether to sign up for dinner the night before was starting to get too stressful for me so I packed a small day pack and headed for the coast and some spiritualisation and cuddles with Amma – the ‘Mother Hugger’.

I mentioned I’d been doing some stick martial arts on the beach. It’s quite beautiful and graceful – like dance – but you do get a few more bruises and fat lips!!

It started with 2 of us (Lucy – awesome, me – bruised) then numbers started to swell.

One particular night Natalia (Ukraine beauty) and Rafi (India beauty) came and said they’d join us after laughing therapy. What? Laughing therapy. I couldn’t miss this. So 5 minutes later I was with some equally bonkers folk on the beach and we laughed for five or ten minutes (I think it was the first class I’ve excelled at???). Rafi and Nat are bundles of energy that seem to light up anyone they come across. I then returned to stick feeling thoroughly invigorated. Even now I am laughing – it works!!

The next day it was suggested that we meet at 4 and give sweets out on the beach – spreading love and happiness. I’d just bought a orgasmatron (head massager thing) so brought that along too. So we traversed the beach bringing smiles to peoples faces and sweetness to their bellies – whilst promoting laughing therapy later in the afternoon.

That night I’d been asked to lead a class in Animal balloon making (the second class I have excelled at). Monkeys, elephants, guitars, flowers, it was beautiful!! About 15 people came including Rafi and Natalie – such a compliment.

The next day I was off to see Amma. A spiritual leader all over the world – she gives her energy in the form of a hug – I had to check it out.

Entirely sceptical, Kathleen (Geordie originally from Hong Kong) and I stepped into her Ashram. Temple like thingy watsit. Lots of westerners and a few Indians were there. All dressed in white, looking like their farts don’t stink, and looking down upon those who arrive with animal balloons all over their new bamboo stick dressed in every colour under the rainbow with feral ginger beards. (Yes Kathleen has one too)

In a strange way it looked serene and we whipped out our paperatsi cameras to capture the moment.

“Please put your cameras down and delete your pictures or you’ll have bad Karma.”

Some hard noised women (let’s call her ‘Bitch Face from Hell’ or ‘BFFH I’) in white was clearly not impressed with us.

“Forget about it” I told Kathleen. We knew it was going to be a bit like a circus and had kept telling each other that we were there only to experience one second – the hug.

We entered the hall where she performs her Dasham to be greeted by wonderful live music and gorgeous food to fill our bellies after our long journey, and then joined the huge queue. We were allowed to queue with the Indians as we were just paying a day visit and not planning to stay. Something which had turned up the noses of those in white further.

In the queue I whipped out the Orgasmatron and proceeded to spread some Danesh (my new Indian name) love. Even those who aren’t being touched smile and laugh watching. But no. ‘Not allowed – you are obstructing my view of Amma” – we’ve pissed off ‘BFFH II’. Amma’s a spot in the distance at this point but after 2 hours we were getting close and I was getting excited – hence louder. Add to this the fact that I’d made Amma a bouquet of flowers out of balloons and once again I was being told off by BFFH III, IV, and V. These guys are so at peace!!??

All the BFFH’s (I, II, III, IV and V – plus a lot more) are fighting each other to be part of the entourage that sit behind Amma – struggling to get a spot within about 5 metres of her and then digging in with tooth and nail not to be pushed aside by another BFFH whilst slowly pushing knees and elbows into other peoples backs to get that inch closer as the 1000’s of people came to have their hug. I was wondering why we were there whilst we passed in front of these people – all this for a second – 2 seconds if she takes a liking to you.

Finally it’s my turn and I get onto my knees as everyone else does and then handed the flowers to her beaming face (later Kathleen heard that she’d asked for them to be taken to her room - awesome). She put her arms around me and I have to say – it felt wonderful (but I do love hugs). She sang soft Mantra into my ear. Surely my time was up but she was still holding me in her arms. I started to feel awkward as eyes bore into my head but it was too nice to let go. Then someone I’d been chatting to told her that I’d cycled from England and she let go. I stood to leave but was forced back to my knees by hands behind me. She touched my head, then fed me chocolate, putting it into my mouth as if I was a Greek God. She then summoned everyone around to give me a a cheer and a clap. Wow wow wow!!

Finally I was allowed to get up and I self consciously made my way back as Amma spoke to one of her colleagues who then came up to me and told me Amma wanted me to sit next to her. So people (BFFHs) were pointed at and told to move to allow me through and next to Amma to share our energies.

Bad Karma my ass!!