Vipassana - Calm down your monkey mind in just 10 days for FREE!

• When a retreat is a long way from being a 'treat'... being a monk for 10 days.
• When farting really is the funniest thing in the world
• One of those phone calls you really don't want
• Proof that Vipassana works.....well kinda
• My mum the Highlander

If you had 10 days free and could do anything, chances are it would involve spending it with loved ones, partying, relaxing or something that would make you feel instantly better.  So why the feck did I chose to go to Vipassana, a 10 day meditation retreat (let's ignore the 'treat' bit) where you wake up at 4am and do +10 hours of meditation/day most of which is sat completely still?   Plus you have to keep noble silence so no talking, reading, writing or eye contact.

Well, I'm curious as to how the mind works.  I also know that we all have ups and downs, but we rarely talk about it.  I'm having a low time in my life right now but I know meditation is helping me and most of my life is bloody splendid (well according to my FB status anyway).  

So as opposed to reaching for those quick heal hormones from sex, drugs, dancing, sport or any of life's other oxytocin/serotonine/endorphine type hits I thought I'd try and go a bit deeper.  

These famous lads make a big deal out of the importance of meditation: 

......but they are not the same as the rest of us.  Finding the time to meditate is difficult if you have any sort of normal work/family commitments.  And that is why I decided on the 10 days retreat.  Habits of a lifetime cannot be changed in minutes or even in a weekend workshop.   Especially if the results are something like this:

Although, let's face facts.  Even the pros find it hard to sit for that long.....

A year ago if someone had told me about a silent retreat I'd have thought they were bonkers.  However, I initially did some by order at my yoga teacher training and liked it. I had signed up for vipassana 6 months ago but was turned away as I had a fever at registration.  So time to try again...

So what is Vipassana?  Well if you are travelling in India, it's something that comes up in conversation pretty regularly.  Just as bungy jumping is in New Zealand, India's adventure sport for backpackers is Vipassana.  And that is India all over, a challenge for the mind aswell as the body; it also shows that India has a slightly different type of traveller.  For Indians, it's a part of life.  

Gautama the Buddha discovered this technique around 500BCE.  Put simply his philosophy was that we all suffer in life through attachment and one of the ways to not get attached to emotion is not to react to things ie. balance or non dualism. No-one can ignore the fact that we suffer, we all strive for a goal of continuous happiness but life throws us lots of shite along the way which makes that harder.  Two good friends of mine committed suicide in the last few years and yet whenever you saw them they were an advert for happiness.  Two very sad stories.  We all like to put on a brave face when we face adversity and that really helps but too often we ignore the route of the problem and just carry on.  And that is why Vipassana is becoming so popular now, people realise that in such a busy world if you can react to/judge emotions with less attachment then life is easier.  Simple.  However, it's not simple to attain.  We could just get lucky by relying on the happy hormones I mentioned above or for medicines but it still comes back to this.......imagine if you could switch it off?

So vipassana, described as similar to a surgical operation to train the brain to react differently to things.  The course is free.  It's free for a reason, you work hard, living practically as a monk and leaving is not really an option.  

I'd done alot of meditation in recent years and it was one of the parts of yoga I really struggled with so a prison type setting suited me.  Plus the fact that one of my most rewarding types of yoga was the focus on breathing which is a big part of Vipassana, but it's only the first three days.  And for those who choose to leave, that's generally when they do.  Just before the deeper stuff starts, so if you chose to leave because you are bored you've totally missed the point.

Now, as for the deeper stuff.  Despite feeling a bit like a cult, Vipassana is not, it's also non-secular and is being reviewed by renowned institutions such as the NHS in relation to mindfulness and addiction.  Now that's all well and good but if you've never done any meditation/been to South Asia before you'll think it is a cult.  Everybody is sat on the floor, chanting everyday with rules such as no feet facing the front of the meditation room.  And although I was fine with it and it keeps the authenticity of the technique I think that the chanting and sitting on the floor would put off a lot of people.  

I chose to do the course in England as I was due to be there for a month after Christmas to see family.  I'd also been told there were a few more creature comforts than doing it in Asia (eg glass in the windows and better mattresses).  Stuff that made 10 days a bit easier.  The accommodation felt like 'business class' to me after spending the last 2 months on a camp bed in the jungle in southern India.  I was also impressed with the ageism where all people over 30 got a twin room as opposed to a dorm.  Plus based on a recent compressed nerve injury for which I was getting weekly physio I was advised to do the course in a chair.  Comfy bed and meditating in a chair.....like I said 'Vipassana Business Class' 

So how does it work?  I've seen some blogs where they describe day by day and 1) I'm not sure how when you cannot write anything down whilst you are there and, 2) I preferred not knowing before I went in.  This was the daily timetable:



As with all Vipassana courses the guys and the girls were split up, even having separate outdoor walking areas which everyday at sunset resembled something like a scene from village of the damned (apart from it was a line of guys just staring at the girls area.......I guess you could say they were in deep thought taking in the sunset - but they (me included) were subtly checking out the girls).  After all when you cannot have something you want it more right?


The village of the damned.....I joke you not this is what it reminded me of!



As I've mentioned before Tim Minchin so succinctly describes us lads are after all just 'monkies in shoes' ....

After joining the line of guys at sunset for a few days I decided to maintain the rule of no eye contact and didn't look at anyone until the end of the course.  Surprising how much energy that took judging people; trust me try it and you'll be amazed. 

Silence worked well.  It made you appreciate every sense more intensely.  You become closer to nature.  I walked everyday during the breaks and each day it was as if my body was getting quieter, I have never been able to get so up close and personal to birds, practically sitting next to them whilst they were feeding for worms.  Amazing.  It also reminded me how silence can be interpreted; during silence on my Yoga TTC a fellow student Yves used to have his food in silence but express his feelings though groans and moans whilst chewing on the food.  An impersonation of 'When Harry met Sally' during a silent retreat is kinda weird.  

There had to be some outlet of energy though and generally that happened when people relaxed 'too much' and in the men's toilets. I've never heard such an orchestra, even vs. the 'girls with gas' I met in Ladakh.  To be fair, I'm glad I didn't do it in India as farting is an olympic sport there, it would have been like trying to keep a silent focus during last night of the proms.

There was one chance to speak every couple of days.  You were invited to the front of the hall and the course leader would ask how you were getting on with the meditation.  On my attempt to whisper after days of silence I came out like a castrami on every occasion with my vocal chords going back to their time when my voice was breaking - oh, so cool ;) 

Meditation is hard and sitting completely still is even harder.  Pain is a big issue that people have with vipassana.   Sitting on the floor, people's knees and backs scream with pain.  And I was similar, 4 weeks on I'm still getting physio on my compressed nerve and at vipassana I was in agony everyday.  Pain is part of the meditation as you have to learn not only to work with the breath to calm your mind but also to not react to sensations.  It was ferkin hard!!  Being an only child I don't like being alone with my thoughts at the best of times but I actually loved the breathing part, it was the pain that killed me.  

Despite not having eye contact I still judged people as you have more time to think.  'That guy who took four pieces of fruit when you're only allowed two' or 'The guy who went to the toilet with the toilet seat down and didn't wash his hands'......classic.  My favourite judgements though were:

• A guy I called 'catweazle' after a really old UK kids show.  There were all sorts of people on the course.  From stockbrokers to hippies.  This guy looked like he'd been sleeping in a cave for most of his life.  And alot of people were coughing during the course as their bodies reacted to withdrawl from smoking/drinking etc but this guy coughed the loudest.  He sounded like he was going to die everyday.  I'm guessing his body was reacting to a not eating roadkill....

• The course leader's wife.  Satya Narayan Goenka was the person who took Vipassana global.  After being lost from Indian culture, it was still practiced in Myanmar (Burma) and Goenka was the first teacher to bring it back to India and now c100 centres around the world.  Every night there is a discourse video from Goenka.  Very informative and surprisingly funny but the best part for me was when the camera (even the camera work is hilarious often with his ear as the centre of the shot) panned out to show his wife sitting next to him.  He would be going full flow in lecture style and his wife just sat with no expression.  EVERYTIME the camera panned out I longed for her to be doing a headstand, robot dancing, or looking at her watch and yawning.  It never happened.  

It was a stark reminder of a woman's role in India.  Something which was depicted excellently in a recent Economist article.

Before the course started (before silence), I overheard a couple of guys talking about experiences with Mushrooms and Ayahuasca and I really wasn't sure what kind of course I was getting myself into.  I have to admit though toward the end of the course when I was able to control sensations moving through my body it did remind me of the rush MDMA had given me in my youth......only difference was in Vipassana you had to remain 'equanimous' ie. not react.  Well, I enjoyed it :)

On Day 8, I woke at 0400 with crazy shooting pains in my arm.  My room mate must have thought I was mad as I spent alot of time in the room rubbing myself up against the radiator to try and get the heat into my compressed nerve.  And, of course, I couldn't tell him what I was doing.  Must have thought I had worms!

Despite the pain, I never thought about leaving Vipassana.  I wanted to experience the full 10 days to see what happened no matter how hard it came.  However, on Day 8 I was told I could go home.  A course helper came to my room with a note saying my mum had been taken into hospital.   I couldn't speak to her but found out that she was stable.  The fact is with my mum is that despite looking healthy most of the time she has spent her life with a severe heart condition.  She grew up in a wheelchair, was home schooled, has never done any sport and spent most of my childhood in hospital fighting endocarditis and now as a result ticks as she has titanium heart valves.  She is vulnerable to anything.  If she gets the flu it's bad news and in the last few months she had been diagnosed with crohn's and then whilst I was at vipassana she had collapsed with a ruptured disc.  Painful for everyone but for her an issue due to the extra pressure on her heart.  It was a big deal but I couldn't know the next steps until the afternoon.  I went back into the meditation hall for the next session and it worked.  I didn't react, I was possibly the calmest I've ever been despite hearing some pretty shocking news.  The course head told me I could leave but I knew nothing would change until I spoke to my mum a few hours later so I waited then spoke to her and she was stable.  

On Day 10 we stopped the noble silence.  I checked my mum was OK and we started to all talk and share our experiences.  Everyone I spoke to who had stayed had positive experiences and I was glad to finally speak to my roomie and explain my radiator rubbing obsession.  

The journey home on Day 11 was very odd.  Getting used to the noises of normal life was pretty special, even plugging in my headphones sounded as if I was hearing the music live.  And I immediately noticed my reactions to and judgement of situations was different, reactions were different and that was good.  But would it last?  

I think the best thing to do after vipassana would be to gorge on all those happy hormones by dancing, drinking and sharing some love but for me I was happy to drive on a dark drizzly night to hospital and see my mum.

Life since has been pretty weird.  My mum is stable and out of hospital.  I was her full time carer for the first few weeks which in the early stages involved me getting up at 0530 to make sure she was ok and feed her morphine then, dress her, feed her porridge and look after her for the day.  She's now alot better and we have a private care company looking after her but it was a big change and we are still waiting the outcome.  It's weird to get to that age already where the parent/child role changes and I'm looking after my mum.  I even filled the freezer with meals in tuppawear all labelled for her to heat up and eat.  Something that she used to do for me as a teenager when my parents were on holidays!  My mum is a legend.  I've a feeling with all she's gone through she might just be a Highlander! 

So has Vipassana worked for me?  No.  You are supposed to maintain it by practising for a minimum of 2 hours/day.  I've been rushing into my mum's room with any sound of pain so that was never going to work but even in my normal world I cannot see it happening.  I have been doing more breathwork though and that helps a lot.  However, the fact remains that I saw the potential of meditation.  It's very powerful.  For now, I'm happy with just striving for balance by using some of those easier to reach happy hormones :) 

If you are thinking of doing Vipassana or have done it and want to share any thoughts please comment below :)

"Vipassana is the art of living.  Not the art of escaping"

S.N. Goenka

Here are some good links on vipassana:

Link to the food  for Vipsanna in the UK - it's VERY good (if you're going to a course, don't click this....wait for the surprise) - click here

Good Blogs:

My friend Barbara.  An Irish girl who completed 10 days despite having diahhorea 

http://thebarbybulletin.wordpress.com/?s=vipassana&submit=Search

A famous irish travel blogger (guy) who left on day three and also did a vlog :)

http://www.ndoherty.com/vipassana/

A three day diary (not sure how they wrote this!) proving the benefits of staying and 'switching off' the monkey mind (although they left after day three)

http://tynan.com/vipassana

Funny blog by a guy who completed the 10 days 

http://www.path2yoga.net/2011/08/10-days-vipassana-meditation-retreat.html

P.S. Flackistillontour Pt II

• Christmas Karma 
• Ireland..... Tea/Cake/Tea/Cake/Tea/Cake
• New Years resolutions
• Whatnextontour?

I had been expecting to come home to a month of Christmas socialising, home cooking and long days of yoga before job applications.  That all changed when I found out that my mum was not on good form and I needed to be nurseflack for a while.  Being a two person family team it took a bit of getting used to and meant I had to get on my pinny and be the cooker, cleaner and PA.  Christmas didn’t really happen; for most of it I felt like I was in an episode of Andy and Lou pushing mum around in her wheelchair.  But it did mean I got the chance to polish up my Indian cooking skills and after a bit of bickering remembered just how important family is.

For New Years my mum had her friends over to help out so I headed off to Ireland.  I'd missed Ireland so much, from the fact that I saw more fake tan on the flight over to Dublin than I’d seen in the last year to the fact that I spent the entire flight talking abou the weather with an old couple from Wicklow.  And once I got to Ireland life was simple: Tea/Cake/Tea/Cake/Guinness/Friends/Guinness/Friends/"I’ll put on the spuds”.   I ended up by the fire listening to Irish Folk music at Johnnie Foxes one day.  I’ve been to Johnnie Foxes lots of times but never gone into the tourist bar and this time went in by mistake and left in a blur of Guinness and crackin music grinning from ear to ear.  I’ve missed Ireland badly.

Me tucking into a spuds based diet in Kerry with the lovely Deenihan family

New Years Eve was a cosy few pints with good friends down in Co.Kerry.    My week there involved kids running around and constant children’s DVD’s.  It was the opposite of my Christmas and all of a sudden I was glad to be back in the west (and even happier to be in West Ireland!).  I noticed a massive boost in people’s optimism now that Ireland is out of the bailout and even caught one friend getting quite stressed over the new design of the front of the BMW range.  She doesn’t even own a BMW - 1st world problems eh!  And that’s where comments such as ‘welcome back to the real world’ start to sink in.  The real world is what you make it but if it involves stress over aesthetics then I don’t want to be part of it.  

What you face when you work in a developing country....

Ah Jaysus - it's killing me.....

oh and one other thing about the 'real world'.....

I've come back from long trips enough times to know that travelling is one of the best life experiences you can get.  So New Years resolutions?  I started travelling solo in my early 20s, then one year I made a resolution to leave the UK and go work in South America and it changed everything (a decision made over dinner with my friends at a New Years Eve party).  I'd lived overseas before but all of a sudden I had an appetite for more diverse cultures and would love to see more people do the same.  Lucky for me most of my mates are grounded enough to enjoy life wherever they are.

However, the goal of this blog was as a little memoir to myself but also to try and encourage more people to travel.  And I don’t mean a two week package in Goa, Thailand or a caravan in Waterford.  They are all well and good for holidays.  I mean live with locals, work with locals, get sick with locals and love their life.   You can get your thrills at the local theme park or jumping out of planes but trust me it is nothing compared to boarding a plane and travelling to an unknown place. Arriving knowing nothing - not the people, the language, whether your ATM card will work or if you have network coverage (unless you’re in a Vodafone advert and travel with a brand new tablet).  In india this would equate to a bad Dr Who episode, arriving on a bus and seeing lots of people with wiggling heads marching towards you.  Now that is a real adrenaline rush. Don’t cling to the illusion.

It's one thing us lads doing it and I'll be continuing a bit more travel this month heading back to India in a month but the ultimate in adrenaline is a girl travelling alone.  I love to see girls out there discovering the world with no makeup, a dusty pair of hiking boots and a confident stride.  The hassle girls get from us boys back home is nothing compared to oogling eyes of foreign lads.  Here's a salute to all those girls travelling solo :)

P.S. Flackistillontour Pt I

• Why chocolate is better than Bollywood 
• Indian Love with no smiles (a rarity!)
• Baby in a hammock goes out the window

So I’m back in the west for a while.  Christmas is possibly the worst time to return from an Indian rural based NGO project.  Within 12 hours of getting off my plane I witnessed people fighting over a Turkey in a supermarket (Waitrose, no punches just a lot of superlatives); lucky for me I was still smiling from all the happiness that my 15 months away from such behavior has brought.

So firstly a THANK YOU for sharing the journey with me…….

Here's me on in my last week with some of the college kids at a gig in the local town....

and two of the funniest girls in India who I'll miss dearly Sujata (my sponsor child) and her BBF Renuka.....plus some random

A week before I left KSV I’d decided to organise a Bollywood dance teacher as a gift to the kids.  Not as easy as you’d think. Despite western media suggesting that India is full of Sangitas and  doing sexy bollywood dances around the streets that is far from the truth (public hip is only gyrating is only for the few travelled middle, upper classes and actors).  However, we found one.  Albeit a tubby middle aged guy who liked gold chains and spandex pants (a new concept for the kids).  He cost 5000r (£50).  That’s a crazy amount of money in rural India.  Yet all he did was dance in front of the kids, he didn't teach them. The kids, however, loved it.  It was a real goose pimples moment when you saw their little faces light up.  The volunteers loved it too, I spent a lot of my time helping look after the precious dance instructor.  Yet at one point when the floor filler Jai Ho came on I had about 8 kids hanging off me including one on my shoulders who was having so much fun that he trickled some wee down my back.  I gave my camera to a college boy and he took some videos (luckily not of me being wee’d on); despite capturing the moment he seemed to think that you needed to keep pushing the video button.  So this is a mashup of 1 second videos…….you should get the idea.

Over the next few days somehow the kids found out how much the teacher cost. I’m pretty sure he told them as he didn't stop talking about his spandex empire.  A few of them said to me that for 5000RS they’d have taught the class themselves and spent the rest of the money on chocolate.  Next time we’ll do that.  Dancing and chocolate with no spandex - result.

I've been to a few Indian weddings.  If India is a sensory explosion then the Indian wedding’s I’d been to earlier in the year had been Indian amphetamines.  The day after the Bollywood class we went to a local staff member’s wedding.  A Christian ‘love’ wedding.  I've never seen such scared, sad faces on a bridal party.  The sad truth of 90% of India where all of a sudden two strangers (I know this was a love wedding but they’d never even been in the same room together alone) were sat next to each other for hours with the daunting challenge of later seeing each other naked then trying that thing called sex that ‘everybody’ talks about yet the church said was sinister (reproduction = good, anything more = bad).  Blimey that must be a confusing day.  So I didn't really feel the love at the wedding.  15 white volunteers also attracted the wrong sort of attention as we were mere photo fodder getting more attention than immediate family and at one point being told to dance ‘we want the white people to dance’.  We danced like monkies in the corner whilst the paparazzi snapped away.

Me with the college boys class from KSV at the wedding

NOT THIS Wedding (just to prove that I don't normally wear western feckin clothes to an India wedding - we were ordered to!)

The happy couple

The one thing I did love about the wedding was compliments; the bridal party looked great and we all complimented them but I’m talking about the general compliments by strangers.  The female volunteers looked amazing.  Saris are so complimentary (and that works the opposite way for big aunties with their low flying nipples and unguarded growlers) but these girls are all slim and pretty.  Quite a treat for the eyes.  Us western lads had to wear western clothes.  It felt food to be out of dusty, muddy clothes although I’d grown quite accustomed to them.  However, the compliments given by the Indians to us westerners once we scrubbed up.  You always feel like a Hollywood star in India if you are white.  That day I felt like a superhero ;)

The girls in their saris.....

To leave India I had to take a few buses and a 10 hour train to Bangalore.  I’ve travelled a lot before and often spent my time thinking about what was going to happen next (which town, bar, girl, mountain).  Whereas India for me was so much more present and in those last hours I sucked as much of this amazing country in as I could.  I sat hanging out of the train door with my feet on the step watching the sunset and the farmers head home from a hard days labour in the fields.  It was stunning.  Then I got hit on the head by a plastic bottle, thrown out of the next carriage.  It was India!

I made friends with a family sat opposite me in the carriage.  Oddly their 4 month old girl was called Dixita.  They’d name her after the pop star Raghu Dixit who I’d been working with as a supporter for KSV.  A lovely baby, but as names go a bad choice.  Dick Shit Ah.  The family had an ingenious way of getting the baby off to sleep, a hammock tied up across the berths which she gently rocked in as her father showed me his brand new Samsung Tablet.  Usually a sure sign of a middle class Indian.  Their social education was soon confirmed, however, as, after changing the nappy in front of me they threw it out of the window.  This is India!!

The sleeper class baby hammock - amazing :)

Out with good friends in Bangalore......my first beer in a LONG time just before boarding my plane

Leaving the subcontinent after 15 months was hard.  I've been lucky enough to spend time travelling through SE Asia, South America, The Middle East and some of Sub Saharan Africa but for me India is the closest I've come to feeling like I’I've left this planet.   Oddly despite living through a few earthquakes and monsoon within my first 48 hours back a climatic Armageddon hit the UK & Ireland. 

Seriously......

A neighbour’s tree came down on our drive and I commented to said neighbour ‘everything happens for a reason’.   They looked very confused and it soon hit me that I was no longer in the East!

Oddly the biggest thing I noticed once back was the change in food.  My mum has crones so there is no spicy food in the house and having been used to spicy curry x3/day I had to get used to more bland cuisine.  

I’m not sure if this is a direct result but all of a sudden I was farting 'less than I was not'.  For the last 15 months (apart from when in a room with a lady) I fart more than I don’t which is kinda like having a jetpack on your back the whole time.  Every boy’s dream, every mans nightmare.  One advantage of being back.  The rest, I didn't like so much - more in Pt II.

Bangalore - all work no play

• 1^st class travel = 1^st class assholes
• The funny side of Indian Job Interviews
• Ear rape (repeat offence)
• Why Indians can ‘never’ say no

Last week I went to Bangalore to meet with some of the KSV supporters/donors and have interviews to recruit KSV a full time fundraiser.  Usually a feast for the material senses (hot showers, internet, good food and working phone network).  Here’s the carrot salad I got on my arrival. Go on go on …..spoil  yerself ;)

I decided to travel AC1 (1^st class) on the sleeper train to Bangalore as only 1^st and 2^nd class were available so I thought for an extra $7 I’d see how the other half live.  India rail moves 25m passengers/day, runs like clockwork and upon first appearances AC1 didn’t disappoint.  I’ve done this route in AC3 and sleeper (3^rd and 4^th class) and usually sleep well in AC3 but the extra space, the soap in the toilets and bins which looked like they got used were quite a treat. 

The customers, however, were first class assholes.  Each and every one of them shouted into their phone until late at night. Each, also having their laptops open staring intensely at the screen as if to click ‘yes’ on a multimillion dollar transaction yet when I looked, they were playing solitaire.  They were older middle class Indians (one wore a stone washed denim jacket proof he travelled overseas regularly……last century).  

In all Indian trains there is the below sign.  With all the space in AC1 it’s very obvious. 

At midnight I was very surprised when the man with the denim jacket came into the cabin shouting into his phone.  That’s not so unusual on Indian Rail but I thought in AC1 people might be able to read.  He then switched all the lights on and flustered trying to make his bed for a while then buzzed (yes you have a buzzer in AC1) the guard.    The guard came in and he demanded (in English, I think it was to impress me which he would have done if he wasn’t being a prick and hadn’t woken me) that the guard make his bed.  He stood with his hands on his hips commanding instructions to the guard to tuck in the sheets extra well.  1^st class cock.

Funnily enough on my 10cents bus journey to the train station I’d been treated to fruits and a paid ticket by a local family with their leaving comment (and only English) ‘please return to India’.  Like I said, funny how the other half live.

Previous times when I’d visited Bangalore it had been to meet corporate supporters and indulge in a bit of the nightlife after living life like a monk on the project.   This time I didn’t get party (UK/Ireland – you’re gonna have to help me out with that), instead my goal was to help recruit a permanent fundraiser for the school.  They have been looking for 2 years.  Some of the job applications we got were firkin hilarious.  One guy even included a picture of him in Washington DC saying ‘this is a picture of me in America’.  One cancelled his interview 1 hour before it was due on email stating ‘I will come at 1230 instead as this time suits me better’  when I had told him I had back to back meetings and could only meet him in the morning.  Fail.

It felt really weird wearing trousers with a belt and shoes.  I’ve got quite used to wearing a kurta and pajama pants (yes, half of me is now a skanger).   As I found a barber who spoke English I treated to myself  to a haircut and shave and was comforted in his ability to understand my ‘please don’t shave my forehead’.  I also got a head massage (50 cents……can’t go wrong).  The last time I did this was in Goa last year and the same thing happened (see photo at bottom of this blog).  Ear Rape.  The guy produced what looked like a small lawn mower engine and put it on the back of his hand.  Said device was a vibrator and he put his hand on my head then fingers in my ear. Shocking at first but after the initial freaky feeling quite pleasant.  Try it you might like it ;)

I managed to get a car and a driver donated for the 5 days I was there.  Driving in Bangalore does feel like an arcade driving game.  Luckily, my driver Vasu was by Indian standards safe, however, specialized in going against the flow of traffic and around roundabouts the wrong way.

My wheels in Bangalore....where good things come in small packages:

My first meeting was with a Indian music band manager who support the school.  It’s not often that you get the response to ‘so how’s business’ as ‘well it’s just Britney Spears and One Direction ahead of us on iTunes.  Classic.  A complete gentlemen and reminded me of how egos work when only a week before when I’d met a famous music promoter he had pointed at a venue saying “I have put on more than 100 gigs on here”, then paused and looked at me and said “Chris, how many gigs have I put on here?”.   I bet he travels first class on the train.

On the subject of ego, I got angry with Vasu one day which I’m a little ashamed of but it comes down to Indians not being able to say no.  Despite me calling ½ half before he was due to arrive (his response “I will be there in 15 minutes sar”) everyday Vasu was late without fail which resulted in me being late for meetings.  Something I do not do.  On the day of a very important meeting I’d emphasized the importance of arriving on time.   He was 45 minutes late then told me he had to leave early leaving me stranded for the rest of the day.  It wasn’t the end of the world but at the time my bank had locked not only my ATM but also my PIN and I had about $10 to my name which doesn’t last very long in Bangalore. 

To give you another example of Indians being too proud to saying “no” (instead wiggling their head and smiling) l booked a taxi to the train station (emphasizing that the hotel staff tell the taxi driver which train station I’m going to).  I reconfirmed when I got in the taxi and received gleaming smile and wiggling head, then 30 minutes later whilst picking his nose (he must have hit a nerve in his brain) he said ‘railway station or bus station sar’?

It was a treat to have the selection of food you can get in an Indian city.  I ate in 5* hotels which was exceptional cuisine but never feels like India just an AC bubble full of carbon copy American business men wearing jeans too high and shirts tucked in.  Some of the best food I had was around the back of the powerhouses of India’s business parks where all the IT workers gorged on the street food.  5 minutes walk from all the 5* restaurants and hotels you could have fantastic food and enjoy the real buzz of the place.  I ended up having lunch in one US Company during a meeting and was given a chicken dish.  I’m used to not mentioning I’m veg here as opposed to the west it’s the norm but the staff looked at me in horror and said ‘but all white people’ are meat eaters.   It's like the western reaction to veggies in the 1970s - so retro :)

The 5 days were busy right to the end.  I interviewed the last candidate on the train ending as it was pulling out of Bangalore train station.  I’m pretty confident we’ve found our guy which delights me. 

The new CEO for Wateraid India is working with my Fundraising strategy #1 goal to change the culture of the local organsation and we’re going to have a very good fundraiser to build KSV into an even more amazing project than it is now.  I’m still working with both organizations and doing some stuff with TED Talks India but I’m definitely leaving on a high.

One sad note for Christmas.  I had a few email requests for me to buy 18 again the vaginal tightening gel which is so subtlety advertised across Bangalore. 

 

The bad news is I found out how much it is.  $50US.  My present budget doesn't stretch that far.  It kinda sickens me that in a country where sex is such a suppressed subject advertisers are manipulating the uneducated section of the population with such shite.  I think there should be one for the gentlemen who want to be 18 again.  It retails here for about 50 cents and is probably just as useful as the $50 18 again ;)

I am SO lucky to be living here – Kalkeri Sangeet Vidyalaya, Dharwad. Pt II

My daily schedule part II

• The work bootie call
• Too many snakes in the shower
• Hungry Caterpillars
• A puppy in the toilet

After lunch I usually get a shower as by that time the water bucket has been in the sun for a while.  It’s a simple open hut made of bamboo with no roof so you often have monkies checking you out from above.  Last week after my first bucket of cold water I saw something move very close to my head and all of a sudden saw this (not my photo):

I did run out of the hut but unlike a friend Baptiste who witnessed the same last year I grabbed my towel.  Enough of the snake jokes.  The other volunteers came running to see the snake peg it up the tree.  As always, the creatures we most fear are bricking it when they see us.   However, 50,000 people die every year in India due to snake bites so it’s good to be cautious ;)  The night before I had made a fire and spent 10 minutes gathering wood and leaves in the dark (my headtorch was broken) from around where the shower is.  I won’t be doing that again in the dark!

Ants, Mosquitoes and Caterpillars are the only thing here that we regularly get stung from.  My mum used to read ‘The very hungry caterpillar’ to me when I was a toddler   and I never remember a baddie in a James Bond film putting a caterpillar in his bed but these bad boys are pretty poisonous if you touch them.  Quite pretty too:

Whilst on the subject of animals, I missed the dogs here.  Mama Love was my favorite and for the first few days I didn't see her around, then I found out she’d been nesting as she was pregnant.  The next few nights she chose my hut to nest outside, crying all night and digging a hold under the side of my wall.  She then found her best shelter to give birth in the toilet.  Safe considering some of the other dogs here eat puppies.  However, it had other dangers.  The day after her four puppies were born the water butt in the toilet overflowed on top of the puppies.  Had it not been for a passing volunteer hearing Mama Love’s screams they would have drowned.  It was quite a mess to rescue them as the toilet is a hole in the floor and two puppies ended up sliding down the hole.  Luckily all puppies were rescued and are fine.  This is her new nest.  A purpose built one :)

Before I go back to the office I like to do a head stand.  I know, aren’t  I special?  Teaching yoga everyday means I don’t get to practice much myself and a head stand is my asana of choice when I get the chance.  I try to hold it for +3 minutes.  Try doing that with mosquitoes biting you, monkies checking out the white eejit upside down from above in the trees and a dog licking your face.  It’s my daily challenge!

1345 Back to the office.  What do I do when I’m working? Well I’m trying to get supporters and funding for the school.  All 250 kids get accommodation, food, education and healthcare at no cost.  And each of those kids has come from a deprived background yet the school has given them hope and turned them into little Indians with a very bright future :).  If you’d like to sponsor a student click here.

Fundraising takes time.  It’s all about building relationships and last time I was here I met with +200 companies (thanks speed networking) and was hoping that some of the relationships would have developed into good partnerships.  Unfortunately despite the excellent management at the school the admin staff hadn't followed up.  Instead they did what I like to call a ‘Bootie call’.  Actually, scrap that, it was a ‘Pimped Bootie call’.  I introduced them to a good supporter last year.  The supporter helped the school and didn't get a thank you.  I inquired to Admin as to what the next stage was “well sar I shall call them when we need something”.  I used to be a fan of bootie calls until I realized that a proper relationship is far more rewarding.

Depending on how long my laptop battery lasts if the power is down I work until around 5 then go for a walk with the dogs and other volunteers.  If there’s enough time this could mean a walk to the local lake to bathe with the buffaloes and anything else that’s in the water or to Kalkeri the local village. 

The local lake and some of the villagers on their 'commuter run':

The end of the day is a peaceful time with all the farm workers returning from the fields.  To give you an example of the interactions we have, last week I spent 30 minutes trying to get a local boy to ride his bike (brakes not really working, flat tyres and a frame that could be used in Olympic weightlifting) to ride over some rough terrain.  I’m no MTB pro but I've some friends who are so I've learnt some techniques which I shared with this guy so watch out for future MTB champs coming from Kalkeri!

The village has a real charm at sunset.  The village is very rural yet used to seeing western volunteers so walking though you get a good balance of them acting out their lives whilst offering a smile and “what is your name”.   As I did last year, I took nearly 200 photos of the villagers and printed them to give out.  The distribution was a bit of a blood bath with all the kids jumping on me to get their photo first but a local auntie stepped in and calmed them down.  Then at one point I managed to run away from +20 screaming kids.  I guess my ankle is fixed now!  

Despite the development of requests for ‘photo photo’  since I've started printing them off I get an amazing reception in the village.  Every time I go to town I have families on the bus wanting to be my friend.   Last week, a lady picked up an orange peel from my lap and without saying anything just squeezed it into my eye.  She then did the same to her own eye showing that it didn't mean harm.   Oddly if felt quite refreshing, I think it might have been a one off though as I tried it yesterday and it hurt like hell.  After that same bus ride I got off and an Auntie came up to me, smiled and said Namaste then gave me half of her bags and pointed up the hill.  To be fair they usually carry more on their heads than I carry on my back so I complied to her order, I think she was one of the few I hadn't taken a photo of so fair is fair.

Here's a few photos from the village:

In the evening I go back to the office for a while to wrap up work and write this blog!  The evening is mosquito prime time so sitting in the office with the only lights coming from your laptop screen and your headtorch is a massive incentive for all the local flies, moths and mosquitoes to play kamikaze with your face.  It’s a lot more pleasant than Orange in the eye!

A few nights a week we have clubs for the kids which the volunteers run.  They can be anything from extra computer studies to capoeira (we have some very creative volunteers).  I've only taught kids yoga a few times but my achievement was getting 4 teenage boys to lie still in savasana for 4 minutes.  Unbelievable :)

The college boys also get extra lessons at night and I've been teaching them about socioeconomics and presentation skills.  They are very sharp lads and keen to get involved in helping the school whilst learning.  So to try and be more unique among 3.3m charities in India they are all putting together 30 second videos as to why this school is unique.  I’m proud of the lads!

Late Night:   So late night for me is 10pm.  After dinner I usually head to my hut to write my journal, yoga class prep or read.  Once in a while I pop to the volunteer house to socialize with the guys who are usually playing the guitar, singing and on ‘special’ nights eating cheese that a new volunteer will have brought. 

Days are very busy here so sleep comes easy.  All with the knowledge that the wakeup call will be the buzz of nature pierced by Hindustani vocals at 0530.  Amazing.  

Christmas prize (I'll bring something back from India) for the best caption (in the comments) on the below picture........this is my sponsor child holding the big stick: