My Blog

8/25/09 - The Greek Way

solomoon — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 02:27:37 GMT

Our journey to Asprovalta consisted of a few hours of windy roads along the coast through the moisture deprived countryside. When we arrived to the festival, we glady welcomed our new accommodation in Hotel Karatsi, just outside of the festival site. This friendly, family-owned hotel was set amidst a series of courtyards that lie beneath a woven canopy of olive trees and grapevines. Without wasting any time, we picked up a bottle of South African red wine for some proper sundowners on our back balcony that overlooked the western mountains rising gracefully from the sea. That night we joined members of the Ultimae family already on site for a traditional Greek feast consisting of nearly everything on the menu which had us loosening our waistlines before the main course arrived. The weather, which had been rainy up until we arrived to Greece, was nearly perfect while we were there, with periodic sea breezes to help keep the heat down. The festival lay adjacent to the beach at a campground full of trees, and even with 4,500 people there, it was far from feeling crowded. The music and sound on the main stage overall was disappointing, but the chillout, where we were required to spend most of our time was a consistent mood of relaxed beats and ambience. The organization of the festival was far from perfect and every time something was delayed, overlooked, or half-assed, you'd hear someone expectedly murmur, "the Greek way." Ultimae Records was featured all day Saturday through Sunday morning and I drowsily followed that evening with a well-received sunset dj slot. The vibe of the festival was without a doubt the highlight, and the warm and amazing people I met ensure many long-lasting friendships. I was able to meet nearly all the chillout artists, many of my favorites, and even a few cheery old schoolers like Gaudi, Alex Patterson, and Youth. Stage managing was not so demanding, but kept me looking at the beach more so than actually using it. On the last day I had one my most powerfully moving reiki experiences involving Sunny and my dear new friend Zareen, a local from Athens. High on gratitude, blissed on many new-found friends, lubricated by olive oil, and overdosed on feta, we all exchanged our last smiles and toasted "Yamas" (the Greek equivalent of "cheers" or "boom") over a family dinner. From there I packed up my stock of honey tahini and welcomed the cooling rain that began just hours after the festival ended, escorting us back to our early morning airport departure. All of four flights home have been smooth, except for delayed baggage, and I enjoyed the comfort of my cotton khaki shoes while sipping red wine and consuming cupfulls of warm nuts in business class. Happy that the Rockies are our home to return to, Sharon and I are already talking about how we can refine our travel plans and continue to improve and lengthen this international sojourn in the summers to come.

8/16/09 - Believe Nothing

solomoon — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 11:41:44 GMT

There can't be too many more spectacular sights to experience on a plane than flying over the French Alps at sunrise. Once landed, we spent a few hours borrowing internet from an overpriced restaurant in the airport while we waited for Sunny and Iris to arrive in Thessaloniki, Greece where we picked up a rental car--our freedom. Thanks to Sharon's tapped-in-ness to Facebook, we managed to find out that Ghreg on Earth just happened to also be in Thessoliniki at the exact same time visiting friends of Insomnia Records merely 20 minutes from the airport. Thanks to Alex (Zik) and Lah (Alien Project) we found a room in the "Nice View Hotel," with beachfront property just south of town in Agio Triada. A sunset and beach stroll later, we quickly settled into cucumbers, olive oil and feta, which is becoming a staple here in the land of infinite islands. We had a great home cooked meal with local made olive oil and enjoyed conversation with native, Alex, covering everything from Greek politics, history (that you don't get in a history book), religion, education, philosophy, and mythology. Having heard nearly everything under the sun from "12 gods" to "none", he takes the motto "don't believe the bullsh*t" referring to any belief system anyone's trying to sell you who will condemn you for disagreeing. Seeking cleaner water and more secluded beaches, we headed for the land of Halkidiki, the well known mainland getaway and tri-peninsula in northern Greece. Having gotten a tip from Tristan at Sonica to check out the Goa Beach Bar, we headed straight to the town of Sarti for aid in navigating a chill place to land for a beach holiday of swimming on the Aegean Sea. While olive oil and cucumbers are plenty, coconuts are nowhere to be seen. With a countryside very reminiscent of Turkey, the hills support a patchwork of olive orchards, and here you'll find bachlava sure to rot your teeth out and a local tahini that is made with honey! Our west-facing beach views the ominous backdrop of the mysterious Mt. Athos ("Agio Oros" - Holy Mountain), a 6,669ft peak on the monk-inhabited peninsula (and center of Eastern Orthodox Monasticism) with no road access. Mt. Athos is said to be the only land that was not swallowed by Noah's flood. Needless to say we've settled easily into the new rhythm of sipping trendy frape (chilled with milk and frothy freeze-dried Nescafe) and spending hours either on the lazy shore or testing our buoyancy in the crystal clear waters of the sea. An attempt to get our dance on at the Goa Bar had us change our minds with the seemingly "urban club brought to the beach" music/atmosphere we witnessed upon arrival. Instead, we spent today there sippin' overpriced frapes and bobbin' our heads to mediocre house music. The pace was just right though for a day filled with movement not much more than shifting from stomach to back beneath the cabanas. Tomorrow we head to Asprovalto to get settled for our last week spent at the Aurora Festival where we're set to be stage managers for the chill stage--again a pace that will likely not be met with resistance.

8/15/09 - Panoramic Friends

solomoon — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 11:40:00 GMT

Seeking a good hearty meal and some pastries, we arrived to the Ultimae headquarters in Lyon. Our main purpose for this visit was not to see France, but instead to spend some good quality time with our dear friends Sunny, Vince, and daughter Iris, with whom our previous visit in 2007 allowed us only two short nights. Cloudy, cool skies with a bit of rain gave us some relief from Italy's heat and days were spent sleeping in, having cafe's in the nearby square, family dinners at the house, and sipping Pastis (local anise flavored alcohol) with Vince over discussions about the magic of music. I even got to spend a few hours in Aes Dana's studio watching him crank out a track from scratch with effortless deliberation. To my surprise and excitement, after some conversations about yoga, Vince offered to make the ambient soundtrack to accompany my in-the-works yoga/meditation cd! Wow. I can't imagine who I'd rather co-create this cd with. Sunny and Vince are in the process of relocating the Ultimae storefront to a new location--a small, cozy den a stone's throw from their 6th floor apt. (with no elevator). I was anxious to be a part of a little history-in-the-making so I offered a bit of sanding and was later picked to be the truck driver to transport the new vinyl floor for the store which is set to open sometime in mid-late September. I managed to score a pimp pair of cheap cotton shoes at the local Sunday morning market that will surely be my ticket to business class travel on the flight back to the States. ; ) Gratefully, we found perhaps the smoothest yerba mate ever from a local tea shop which should amply replenish our depleted supply from long hours of work in Italy. On our last night, Tajmahal dropped in with some home grown veggies and out-of-this-world potatoes. With time enough to catch up on whatever leftover responsibilities we had lingering from the States, we were able to pave the way for a proper holiday in Greece.

8/14/09 - Not Looking Back

solomoon — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 11:36:46 GMT

As it's been roughly 28 moons since my last blog, and since I only blog while engaged in international travel, it would be appropriate to paint a little background since the spring of 2007. After returning to the states from my second trip to India, I have proceeded to teach yoga full time and have remained committed to designing a new style of living. Without a doubt the most memorable experience in that period occurred during the summer of 2008 at the Gaian Mind Summer Festival. On Saturday, June 21st, I was asked by Sunny (Mahiane) and Vincent (Aes Dana) of Ultimae Records (my favorite downtempo label) to be a label DJ/US representative of their downtempo project based in Lyon, France. Not knowing exactly what opportunities would arise, this summer brought the first experience for Ultimae related international travel. With the help of Sharon, she and I were lined up for another go on the production team for the Sonica-Reloaded Festival in Italy, only this time I was also given a proper slot on the alternative stage for an Ultimae Records chillout set. Sharon and I were in Portugal last summer for the Boom Festival, and we again set out across the Atlantic wandering if summers in Europe would become the new rhythm. This trip quite unexpectedly began a day sooner than scheduled. On my way to our regional outdoor gathering of the summer, Vayeb - the Mayan Day out of Time party located in south central CO, I received a call from my flight agent that I might have to catch a plane that night! Begrudgingly, I rerouted back home, stuffed my things in my backpack and headed soon after to the airport. With a big favor from our agent and friend (Antix's mom), we received a great deal on companion tickets to standby for a business class flight to Rome. While I was aware of the dress code for this type of ticket, my judgment in footwear was a little lacking, and thus, after a scornful gaze from the flight agent at the gate counter, found myself demoted to seat 23A in economy class. An exhausted laptop battery and without sleep or the book that I packed in my checked baggage, I finally arrived to Rome. An hour north and I was in the beautiful Italian countryside at the new Sonica location. With barely enough time to change from my "business class" upperwear, Sharon "Storm", who arrived nearly a week earlier, wisped me away to the production office to get straight to work. The festival was strewn along a river with little shade, but contained a series of waterfalls and a pool deep enough for swimming. Filled with some tall, graceful, wind activated art pieces on the dancefloor, a series of shops and restaurants, and familiar faces, the festival enjoyed a much more mellow, family vibe than I remembered from 2006. I struggled to remember all the fuss about Italian food. Oh yes, pizza, pasta, bread, cheese, pizza, pasta, bread, cheese, pizza, pasta, bread, cheese...tomatoes. The Indian restaurant "Dharamsala" was the saving grace with extremely large portions and perfect mango lassis that tasted EXACTLY like Goa's Mango Shade, our favorite breakfast spot in the season of 2007. Atriohm stole the show for me with a set that was the best swampy, night time forest music I've heard since Deviant Species, GMSF05. I didn't get much dancing in, but had a nice tumble off a bike in an overanxious rush to get to the stage in the thick darkness one night. The alternative stage was mostly minimal techno, with very little chillout and greatly lacking in any "chillout" environment to encourage people to enjoy time out. Mahiane, Aes Dana, and Solar Fields all played beautiful sets, but lacked many people do to the ill-equipped space. I followed that morning with my chillout set, which seemed to get a good response from those sparse individuals seeking a smooth descent from a full night of dancing. My final day in Italy was spent with a dip in the waterfall and lazily wandering the country roads picking and eating sweet blackberries by the handful.

4/4/07 – London Underground

solomoon — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 17:53:46 GMT

There’s not much more of an abrupt transition from noisy, filthy India, to the technologically equipped, spotless streets of my friend Debbie’s East London neighborhood. In hopes of catching up with a few British friends, Sharon and I scheduled a few days in London prior to reaching the states without realizing what a prime social weekend it would turn out to be. Our goal is pretty much to do as much dancing as possible wherever we go, and this weekend was undoubtedly the right weekend to pass through the UK. (Though in a city this alive, I’m not sure if there is ever a bad weekend to be here). After an excess of scones and clotted cream, we met up with Santos (Deviant Species) and Adi (Scorb) for some drinks before catching Adi’s set at the infamous “Fridge,” one of the birth spots of trance in London. We ran into Greg (Mubali, from the states) and a friend of Sharon’s previously residing in NYC who would generously escort us through the non-stop weekend ahead. After Scorb we decided to check out the Synergy Project event that was taking place in a warehouse under the arches. Composed of about 8 rooms, each with a different music style, art stations and workshops, costumes and full décor, this was the classiest event I’ve seen of this type and greatly reminiscent of “the good ole days.” Evidently a monthly, this event is a collaboration between many artists and environmentalists pushing a shared platform for music, art, and education. We saw some familiar faces from Goa, Rane (Phuture Primitive from Portland who was performing), and I even bumped into my good friend Christina from Fort Collins, Colorado currently attending school in London. The event wrapped up by an unforgettably dynamic and powerful set by Man with No Name, followed by a funky morning set from Dick Trevor. The following night, after nowhere near enough rest we experienced a most proper Squat Party with Trold, Psymmetrix, Beardy (Wild Things Records), and our good friend Layla (Dragonfly Records) being some of the headliners. Again enjoying the company of familiar faces from last year in Portugal, Turkey, and Italy, we danced through the morning and into the afternoon like true Londoners and managed to meet a couple locals who invited us for afternoon tea in the back of their “mobile home van” just down the block. Chasing what was left of the first sunny day we’d seen since we hit London, we all dropped by the quick store for some picnic snacks and hit Hyde Park with a blanket just in time for a bottle of sundowners. A perfect end to a perfect weekend, we crashed in their van before heading back to our friend’s house and awoke the next morning for our final departure to the states. The unfriendly, unwelcoming, and arrogant security at the stateside airport was our first indication that we were no longer in a foreign country. After being away so long, I had again settled into the traveling, free-spirited frame of mind that greatly differs from one that isn’t. Not feeling completely at peace to be back yet, I’m sure all discomfort will dissolve after a few reassuring speeches by G.W. and a few long nights of restful sleep. As Goa was a dream come true, London was certainly the cherry on top for a conclusion to another chapter of this most memorable adventure.

3/31/07 – The Spirit of Goa

solomoon — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 17:50:31 GMT

How quickly 3 months can pass and even more so how abruptly it can all come to a close. To experience the magic of Goa has been a dream for me that I thought I may never have the opportunity to realize. A culture that has influenced and inspired so much of myself that seemed to have almost flickered out of existence, is contrarily still burning deep within the ancient, holy land of southern India’s beach fringed coastline. My hopes for a balance of adventure and productivity were undeniably high and while neither fell short of fulfilled, the picture painted was altogether different than what I anticipated. Sharon and I had high hopes for accomplishment and where we may feel we felt short in practical research and development in designing our new future, we believe we gained in personal development. Days that weren’t filled with research, were filled with a large amount of yoga, reading, and meditation. In our final weeks in Goa we did manage to speak with a good handful of experienced individuals who offered many insights into the potential directions we may consider taking for creating a new business. Perhaps the greatest lesson I’ve learned is to have no expectation when surrendering to the flow and while you can have goals for what you want to achieve on an unknown journey, ultimately you are at the will and malleability of the canvas on which you paint. The world of travelers never stretches out of reach, especially when you run into a good German friend of Caryolyn’s (with whom I traveled through Africa last year) from the Soulclipse Festival in Turkey or her temporary travel buddies that were from Aspen, Colorado. With only one week left in Goa, we enjoyed a visit from Milana and her daughter Bella—two extremely brave friends from Boulder, CO who had only days before moved to India to stay in Amma’s Ashram indefinitely. Admitting that we had reached the limit of productivity able in Goa with only a week to pack and tie up loose ends, Sharon and I decided to squeeze in as much adventure as we could. Milana and Bella immediately took to the easy lifestyle of Goa and we did our best to show them the best finale week possible. The adventure began immediately with a scooter accident where Sharon, carrying 10 year old Bella, hit a stone wall. Frightened, but with all limbs in tact and only a few scrapes and bruises, we set off for the northern beach of Asvem. We swam with a school of mystery fish which felt like eels circling our ankles and enjoyed a nice sunset-beach dinner before joining some friends for their outdoor short-film movie night at a nearby beach hut. They showed independent films they had produced featuring documentaries on India and the like. A late night headlamp hike with no moon illuminated the gallery of sand paintings that high-tide brushed across the beach. It was almost as if in a dream that we actually got lost on the beach as the tide completely transformed the landscape filling swales with lakes masking our coconut hut just inland. The next day we spent at the long, flat, white-sand beach of Arambol in anticipation of a huge gathering that night. With noise complaints before it even started, the party was cancelled and we ended up lounging in the spacey atmosphere of the Russian “Psy-bar” for some juices. We finally caught up with Anjuli, a friend of a friend from Colorado for breakfast at Double Dutch, the local pixie hot-spot. A countryside scooter back down to Anjuna and without reminders from my friends, I probably would’ve completely missed my own birthday. The day was spent sorting out Milana and Bella with some nice beach front property and concluded with our final sunset party at Curlie’s. I had the hardest stomp of the season and a high-energy party that pushed beyond the usual 10pm all the way until 12:15!—all I could really ask for. After a couple days of packing and sorting, it was time to play, so we all headed to Vagator beach for some hiking and waves. I stumbled across a hidden Shiva cave, perfect for meditation, then joined the rest of the crew in getting tossed by the largest waves of the season. That night atop south Anjuna hill was a proper tribal gathering and the last we’d see for the season. A camp fire, drumming, didges, Indian chanting, fire spinning, moon set, hellos to faces I hadn’t seen yet and goodbyes to those I’d shared joy with all season. The next morning we rose early, packed and hit club Paradiso which was conveniently hosting a 36-hour party for our last sweat-drenched stomp session. We finished our goodbyes and caught the night train to Mumbai to join Ishwar for our last few days in India. A final trip to the market, some awesome Indian food, nearly a full day’s meeting with a large clothing manufacturer in Mumbai, and a quick stop at the local underground dvd shop for some rock-bottom purchases, and we thanked Ishwar and India for all it had given us. I see now that the magic of Goa lives on even if hidden beneath the worn surface. I went without expectations and left with some of the greatest memories. The overabundance of bad music characterized by anthems and drum rolls was a bit of a shock, but those familiar, smiling faces, that I repeatedly see around the world are a reminder that it’s magic still burns in the hearts of all those it has touched. It always brings a huge smile to my face to see the Indians on the dance floor dancing harder than anyone, fully embracing this transcendental culture. No one is left unwelcome and the arms reach far is this global family. In the end, a perfect day in Goa could best be described by Doctor Seuss’s “A Great Day for Up!” story with a sky filled with kites and parachutes in celebration of life and an embracing of this one great moment worth living. (See my photo for blog entry “Coming Into Being”). “Ooo-kay Ok,” is what they reassuringly say in India, and it is certainly how I feel every time my thoughts drift back to the sunset beaches of Anjuna.

3/10/07 – Overcome with Gratitude

solomoon — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 17:34:39 GMT

Fourteen years is a great distance in time from discovering a fantastic, new, inspirational world to the realization that you have come to be an active character in that very same reality. For me to say that my openness to living a life driven by my passions and my new commitment for pursuing my dreams has found me to be realizing them seems a bit redundant at this point. There does comes a point where you can view your grand experiences as a series of ripples on your life’s timeline, but remain uncertain whether or not you are merely enjoying the grace of those cosmic blessings, or are somehow responsible for attracting their existence altogether. If time is in fact one single moment and not linear, then while all that occurs is introduced to you, would you not simultaneously participate in its conception? Now awakening as that character finds me in a state of immense gratitude. One of my greatest wishes has been not only to experience the heart of the artistic movement that helped transform my life entirely, but to have an opportunity to tell my story in the fertile setting in which it blossomed. On Friday, March 9th, I was provided with that opportunity. The Nine Bar is the most active outdoor venue in Goa featuring a different dj from around the world every night from 5-10pm. It sets atop a bluff north of Anjuna offering perfect, palm tree framed sunset views overlooking the Arabian sea. A dirt dance floor covered with a sky full of stars is all I could really ask for when my chance to spin there had finally arrived. Five hours was more than enough time for a proper, dynamic trance journey in the spirit of storytelling, and more than nervous I grabbed my digital recorder and threw on my “Choose Bliss” t-shirt ready to go. Whether it was the fact that there was no moon overhead at the time or the residual effects from the disassociating lunar eclipse earlier in the week, my headspace was somewhat off and I was feeling somehow detached from my surroundings as I began to play. Being a giant inside of a covered dj booth didn’t help, and the overhead light while improving navigation filtered much of the view to the initially sparse crowd. I continued pulling chapters from my library and at times felt nearly alone except for the lizard that crawled in through the root like window hole carefully dodging sunset as it perched above my head where he remained for the duration. Believed to be the keepers of the dreamtime, I felt honored that this reptilian shaman had chosen to assist me in this particular dream sequence. In those moments of detachment I felt that my technical focus was somehow fine tuned and so I allowed it to consume my attention. Eventually gaining some sense of the external world, I could see the amorphous silhouette of the crowd that had at some point grown to the neighborhood of 200 people, filling the entire dance floor. Peepholes through the dividing veil slowly gave way as I recognized a few familiar faces below. Finally unleashing some of my best tracks, the experience climaxed when some of the old-timer hippies easily in their 50’s gave me the “thumbs up” sign of appreciation for the classic goa melodies. As my last track tapered off, I couldn’t believe 5 hours had gone by and the crowd’s appreciation seemed to flood in all at once as if the gates dividing my experience from theirs had finally been broken allowing the larger experience to be realized. The attempted digital recording didn’t work (always read the manual before assuming you can use the equipment in an unfamiliar situation regardless of how straightforward it seems) but the priceless memories continue to sink deeply as the space afterward has finally allowed them to be absorbed. Now if my story is remembered or only resonates in the memory of the swaying palms and setting sun, the fulfilling sensation of deep gratitude that permeates my being is enough. “Just another beautiful sunset in Goa” holds new meaning, and now in some strange way, I feel like I belong here.

3/7/07 - India's Splendor (Part 3)

solomoon — Thu, 08 Mar 2007 07:37:23 GMT

One of our main draws to southern India was to see the infamous backwaters of Kerala, where the sea stretches inland creating an endless series of channels and canals. We met a couple of other Americans and lazily drifted along in a canoe enjoying a soundtrack of Hindu chanting as it echoed through the canals from a nearby temple in celebration of a holy day. The guide made stops for us to see coconut twine making, wooden canoe construction, and a small spice plantation—the backbones of business along the backwaters. Hoping to catch Amma (The Hugging Mother) at her ashram and receive one of her infamous darshan hugs, we spent a night there on our way north, surprised to find out that not only was she not there, but that the schedule was quite loose and currently lacking any yoga. I did, however, score a great deal of sandalwood beads for a fair price in the ashram shop. Another 5 lazy hours on a ferry headed north, drifting and napping through rice fields at sunset had me longing for another beach. We finally made our way to Gokarna, our final destination where we planned to park for a few days on Om Beach. This was meant to be our official downtime with no schedules, obligations, or travel. Perhaps the laziest beaches in India, here you’ll find nearly deserted, beautiful shoreline fringed with thatched and mud huts for a buck a night, and activity that doesn’t exceed leaving a hammock. Needless to say I got a lot of reading done, yoga, a few shades added to my tan, and spent a great deal of time impersonating seaweed on the churning waves. There was a perfect point for meditation on a peninsula overlooking the sea doubled with prime viewing of the school of dolphins below. In celebration of the full moon, we enjoyed a very inspirational music meditation to FSOL’s “Lifeforms” album (what else), but didn’t make it until the am to see the lunar eclipse. Now we’ve returned safely to our base in Anjuna feeling refreshed and grateful for the many colors of India we had the opportunity to see. Having missed our “home” in Goa a little, we already have a list of all our favorite spots serving unmatchable fruit juices and lassis that we have to visit. Once again we now look toward the future we are trying to create with renewed inspiration and a journal of new experiences.

3/7/07 - India's Splendor (Part 2)

solomoon — Thu, 08 Mar 2007 07:35:07 GMT

Now with Sharon getting her first taste of real India, we set out for Hampi, another backpacker hot spot known for it’s 42+/- sq kilometers of amazing, but not-so-ancient ruins from the 13th-16th century, lush rice fields, groves of banana and palm trees, and a winding river all set amidst a rolling boulder-stacked landscape similar to that of Vedawoo in southern Wyoming. Other than the hungry touts seeking to snag tourist business, the atmosphere is summed up by rooftop restaurants, stepped vistas overlooking the river, and a tendency for hours of boulder watching. After more than a days worth of ruins we enjoyed a 360 degree view at sunset on Matanga Hill, the most choice peak in the area. As nothing but the peaceful breeze over our faces was felt in an extended moment of silence, Sharon mutters, “I like the weather here.” Not nearly ready to tackle the bustling air of Bangalore, India’s most progressive city, and what I refer to as the “western east”, we meet up with Sharon’s friend Mithune, now living there and willing to give us the official tour. The City of Gardens, as Bangalore is known, with a large central city park (filled with perfect climbing trees), runs off of the caffeine of multiple coffee shops per block. We found it is best experienced through the cuisine, but requires a native to guide you, for victimization by artificially “urbanized” food is rampant. While being a huge fan of Indian food, Sharon and I agree it’s a bit too spicy and heavy for breakfast. Masala tea (chai) is hard to come by there, but we finally filled our craving for carrot halwa (a fine sweet desert). I got my teeth cleaned for about 20 bucks, but curiously right after the their sparkle returned, the dentist asked if I wanted to join her for some abnormally sweet Indian-style coffee. Why not, it’s India. Our Bangalore stay ended with another 360 degree view just in time for an impressive sunset at Nandi Hills, a favorite nature spot of Mithune. Already burnt from the chaos and air pollution of the cities we headed for the beach in south Kerala to Varkala. FINALLY able to get large pots of spiced chai (about 9 cups for 60 cents) and a proper fruit muesli breakfast we quickly sank into the traveler vibe again atop the west-facing cliffs that overlooked the sea. Filled with hammocks, yoga and reiki on the beach, and ayurveda spas everywhere we knew 2 days wouldn’t be enough time here. Kerala is also home for Kathikali dancers (traditional costumed Indian dance/plays) and we managed to catch a colorful performance in a small, cramped, non-ventilated shed. We got to experience a seasonally unusual rainstorm, and a bit of rumbling serenity on the beach where the bellowing thunder rolled down the cliffside colliding with the crashing waves. All the men in Kerala wear diapers, though there I think the proper spelling is “dhoti.” So "when in Rome"…I went out and bought a couple of diapers for myself, which I must say are quite comfortable...

3/7/07 - India's Splendor (Part 1)

solomoon — Thu, 08 Mar 2007 07:30:14 GMT

It’s amazing when you remove all points of reference that bind you to a familiar timeline, how adventure and the directions of unknown currents can sweep you into a flow of timeless experience continuously revealing the most sacred beauties through a myriad of forms. Without trying, old dreams can be fulfilled and new ones created within one single breath. Nearly one moon ago, through the interwoven threads of friendships, Sharon and I found ourselves spending a most magical sunset in an intimate home setting with Goa Gil (Indian sadhu/godfather of goa-trance) and his wife, Ariane. We were invited and honored to join them for one of their African drumming practices in their backyard. The picture-perfect view toward the setting sun across rice fields, I swear I must have seen on a goa-trance compilation back in the mid 90’s somewhere. The deteriorating ruins of a neighboring building and the tree that effortlessly overtook them created the perfect backdrop for this rhythmic ritual. I managed to snag some recordings and hope to go back again for a full session of recording as Gil expressed interest in my doing so. Finally meeting the legend was in some way fulfilling and his gentle and fun nature perhaps inspired or at least reflected the shanti spirit of Anjuna. The next day, we finally experienced a proper beach party at Curlie’s for sunset packed with smiling faces on a sandy dance floor. Following, George was kind enough to spend some time showing me some tips in music production and we spent a day writing a trance track, exchanging ideas and sipping chai under the hanging canopy of the German Bakery. Soon after, the time had ended for George and Alanna’s stay in Goa and we awoke for sunrise and some morning dancing before sending them on their way to Nepal. Later that week we hit Ingo’s night market—an international market with a large amount of European artists/designers—for the annual Goa fashion show and to do a little research. Definitely styles that attempt to avoid the mainstream, the creations were across the board available at European prices, and it was the first fashion show I’ve attended where a trance party among the models actually broke out on the runway. Ahhhh…Goa. The following weekend was Shivaratri, a major Indian holiday, and accordingly there was a gathering held at the Hilltop Lodge. Pumping trance, blacklight painted palm trees, a sky full of stars, and over 500 people made for the most amazing gathering we’ve experienced in Goa so far. It seemed reminiscent of a proper Goan gathering with Tristan playing “behind” the audience, and focus instead directed toward the deity tapestries of Shiva, Ganesh, and Buddha, that garnished the temple of speakers. The annual Carnival was held in Arambol the next day, on a long, flat beach in northern Goa. Seemingly a little piece of Burning Man, the carnival was an excuse for all of the westerners to display full costumes and body paint as a moving drum circle paraded down the beach from one circus-themed art installation to the next. Climaxing with an amazing fire spinning circle, we decided to head home and pack for our two weeks worth of travel through southern India which began early the next morning...

2/4/07 Coming Into Be-ing

solomoon — Sun, 04 Feb 2007 14:53:35 GMT

In one single, elongated moment, I’ve returned from (the beginning of) my most transformational journey, completely released the shackles to my previous life situation, embraced the teachings handed to me along the way, acknowledged my blessings, and surrendered to my passions for life. All this allowing me to begin applying those teachings toward a be-coming into the eternal present. By the measure of clock time and celestial cycles nearly 5 moons have passed since I’ve taken the time to express the many transmutations occurring both within and without my will’s realm of control. My return to the states ended up being just another transition in this endless adventure.. It continued with a wonderful Earth Dance celebration back with my extended family in the mountains of Colorado in September. For nearly 10 months I went without sight nor scent of those beautiful Rockies and without sounding too impersonal, I think they were probably what my heart missed the most. After spending time with my immediate family back in Arkansas (just as important as the Rockies, of course) I was lucky enough to be stranded in nowhere-southern Kansas for, yes, 9 days with major car trouble. I can tell you first hand there’s no Dorothy, and there’s no Oz, but fortunately quite the abundance of timely synchronicity. Finally exceeding the pull of the black hole I made it back to Colorado and packed my things freeing me for what was next. Since arriving back in the states and after many conversations with Sharon (my good friend from Philly with whom I traveled through Europe), we decided to commit to a business relationship offering both support and encouragement to endeavor on a path that will essentially redesign the way we live our lives and sustain ourselves. Realizing that saving up to live the dream for a few months is one thing, but the courage and effort to sustain that lifestyle is the real test. With no short supply of ideas and a willingness to embrace this one life, we decided to put the Law of Attraction into action and uproot with plans to spend 3 months in Goa , India working on the manifestation of this new “design.” After leaving Colorado I headed straight to Philly to help Sharon shed the skin of 15 years in the same apt. so that nothing would tie us down. A few long weeks and many clouds of dust later, she was free. While on the east coast I was able to finally connect with many of the Gaian Mind crew and reconnect with good friends of Omnitribe and old Russian family from the Rockies gone-east. I had the opportunity to spin at a Gaian-Mind monthly in Philly, tag team with Coral at an Alladin Project party in NYC, and play a most special event at Alex Grey’s Chapel of Sacred Mirrors gallery—where he and his wife (whom I got to meet) were painting live throughout the night while people swung suspended from hooks through their skin. An interesting array of attendees and expressions needless to say. We spent a mellow NYE at an art gallery, and I was able to bring in the new year with an old school Goa-trance set (foreshadowing, perhaps?). After shacking up in Onnomon’s house for a week we set off for India, passed through London for some cream tea with Debbie—whom I met in north India and Italy with Gina the previous year, and spent a few days reconnecting with Ishwar once finally landing in Mumbai (where I finally got my Africa photos back after all this time so I can finally post some pics to the blog). Speaking of Africa …I was finally able to look into a condition I had been suffering from for many months as swollen lymph nodes on my neck. Seeing how India ’s medical is about 1/10 the price of the states I decided to have it checked out. It seems malaria wasn’t all that mamma-Africa gifted me, as I was diagnosed with Tubercula Lymphoditis as well—non-specific, chronic, swelling of the lymph nodes most likely caused by the consumption of raw milk. 6 months worth of medication and I should be fine. Needless to say I won’t be an advocate of African tourism anytime soon. Otherwise it was quite satisfying making it back to India, the land of spicy chai and even spicier curries. We visited the greatly impressive Elephanta Caves , dedicated to Shiva, on an island off the coast then caught a train straight to Goa . Palm trees, sunset beaches, fresh fruit juices, and an air of trance music everywhere. It’s mighty fine to be back. We’ve connected with good friends from Turkey , Italy , Hungary , and Portugal , and have finally settled into a quiet neighborhood where we still struggle to get internet installed in our house. The cows that come to our porch for food aren’t always left unsatisfied and the surrounding palm forest keeps things cool and breezy most of the time in south Anjuna. We’ve now connected with George and Alana, good friends from Boston/Asheville who are spending a few weeks here as well on their way from Thailand to Nepal . Sunsets at Curley’s beach bar/restaurant (the long time hub for trancers in the evening) are common, but the authorities don’t let the beach parties, nor many others for that matter, happen in their attempts to “upscale-ify” Anjuna’s developing areas and worn beaches for high-paying tourists. The beautiful international markets are always colorful and overpriced, but enjoyable with psytrance pumping, smiles abound, and a nack for bargaining. Getting settled and productivity have taken a little time with internet delays, a hard drive crash, e-mail account down, and the usual expect-to-get-it-at-least-once 24 hour Indian what-was-it-that-I-ate illness. Daily routines have been loose as planned and include a healthy portion of yoga, meditation, and lots of reading. Some highlights have been cruising the palm-strewn countryside once again from behind the handlebars of a scooter, upscale French cuisine at low scale prices with Ans and Ruth whom I met in Hungary (organizers of the Glade Festival in England, and of Nano Records, South Africa), and some afternoon “frizza” (frisbee) on the beach with Tristan (the one and only). Finally feeling a groove, adjusting to the pace of “India-time,” and slowly getting my computer re-outfitted, I look forward to hours of creative exploration and continuing the balance of physical and mental exercise. We continue to practice living by the Law of Attraction and focus on the good for all. The present is good and with help from books like "The Power of Now" it is where I am slowly learning to spend most of my time.

9/1/06 - Touchdown

solomoon — Sun, 03 Sep 2006 20:08:42 GMT

Velocity in my travels certainly seemed to accelerate over the last couple of weeks, and our jaunt through Europe packed as many countries into 6 weeks as I had visited in the previous 6 months. After finally retrieving our bags from the London airport and a most enjoyable stay with the beautiful minds behind Kaya Project, we sent out for our final festival on this greatest of trance tours, the Ozora Festival in Hungary. The beautiful, quiet countryside was most welcoming, and we were anxious for a few more days of trance dancing and much needed downtime that we could only seem to get while camped with thousands of others in the middle of nowhere. At the same location at 1999's Soulipse eclipse festival, the Ozora was a much smaller scene and more intimate family vibe. Familiar faces from Boom in Portugal, Sonica in Italy, Soulclipse in Turkey, and even South Africa made for quite an appropriate bookend to my 8 months of trancing around the world. While most from Boom headed to the Rhythms of Peace festival in Morocco, there was still quite a strong attendance in the most humid of climates I've experienced since east Africa. Rolling country hills blanketed in corn fields were wrapped by acres of forestland providing shade for lazy camping and hammock-slouched afternoons. On the main stage we sweated buckets to sets from Derango, Para Halu, Cosmosis, Deedrah, Man with No Name, Peter Dijital, Son Kite, and the most properly psychedelic of sets by Hux Flux who ended up being extremely cool fellas. The chill vibe was laid out by Solar Fields, Aes Dana, and Entheogenic. Finally at the end of our trance tour, we hopped a plane to Malmo, Sweden for about 24 hours where we visited with Son Kite and had dinner with Gavin of Digital Structures and Renee of Beat Bizarre. We happened to hit Malmo in the peak of the Malmo Festival where Europeans flock to experience the culture and music of Malmo, while all the locals stay at home to avoid them. Then on another plane to our final destination to land at Aes Dana's house in Lyon, France. I couldn't believe a dream like this was actually coming true. We spent two days with Vincent and Sunny (Ultimae) visiting the Ultimae studios, and getting a taste of life in southeastern France. Our last night was spent drinking traditional local liquors and previewing/critiquing the latest, unreleased album by Carbon Based Lifeforms. I shared many musical interests with Vincent, not suprisingly, and after seeing him and Sunny in action, I can now understand why Ultimae Records produces the utmost in quality releases. The next morning Vincent walked me to the bus station and I entered the largest group of Americans, about to board the plane to NYC, I've encountered in months. At that moment I received confirmation that Americans reallly are the most strange and curious of peoples. Back in NYC left me confused and chaotic among the crowds, but timing had it so that with a few of my best friends we hopped a boatride on the Hudson and got Shpongled to a Simon Posford dj set as the glistening skyline slid by. The next night my friend Coral, whom I travelled with in Cape Town in January, was spinning at a festival in upstate NY on a lake out in the countryside. So as a proper re-entry, I spent the next 3 days at a small festival with her and Chelsea, whom I travelled with in Turkey, frolicing under the trees, and dancing in the rain. Afterward I caught up with Anya, Boris, Oleg and Shy (former CO friends) and started on the last leg of my trip home. I arrived in Arkansas last night to spend some time with my family and plan to finally reach Colorado just a few days before our Earth Dance festival on Sept 15th. This is the first time in 8 months that I've experienced an environment that's familiar and it's extremely disorienting as if just waking from a deep dream and trying to get my bearings again. From a trip that was originally estimated to be about 5 countries in about 5 months and ended up 13 countries in 8 months, I am struggling to digest it all. I am forever fortunate and thankful for some of the most incredible experiences of my life and what I can easily say has been the most amazing 8 months of my life. I realize after finally embarking on my most anticipated international travel experience that this is only the beginning. The most important lesson I learned on this trip and advice I can offer (after much hesitation in the very beginning while still secured in an overworked 9-5+ job) I can some up in a few words... DROP OUT ...and choose bliss. (FYI - As for photos, I will probably come back and insert some now that I have the ability to reduce the size of those I've taken, and I hope to write a final "Reflections" entry soon that will briefly summarize my experience through each of these countries in a compare and contrast fashion that has helped shape and influence my world perspective.) Thanks to all who read and commented, it was so nice having you on my journey. : )

8/16/06 - Dreamswept

solomoon — Wed, 16 Aug 2006 17:03:33 GMT

Can life really move so fast that you've no time to reflect, no time to ground yourself by sharing with others and no time to realize that so many of your fantasies could be dreaming themselves into existence? Well 5 weeks and 4 countries have passed since I've had the time to reflect in any organized, recorded fashion and even think about weaving my experiences into the cyber realm. So I left off in India having quite the life changing experience in the ashram. In an instant I was transported back to the first world where the atmosphere of Rome-ance sings through the monolithic architecture and fancies candlelight dinning on the streets of a once high-civilization. From saris to Gucci, from $2 a night to $30, and from water cuts to endlessly flowing fountains of potable water on every street corner, it seems the dream of upscale civilization has been revived through the euro. A clean city (relatively) with historic sites everywhere and a haven for couples, allowed an opportunity for me to catch up with Keynes (a friend from the ashram) at a pool at a 4 star hotel for a day, meet up with Gonzalo a best friend from high school (a Spanish exchange student whom I haven't seen in 8 years) who is living the dream as a photographer/web desinger for a freestyle bicycle magazine, and connect with my third travel buddy on this greatest of journeys, Sharon, of Gaian Mind-Pennsylvania whom I connected with in Turkey. Back to a diet of only pasta, pizza, and the occasional chinese, after a week in Rome we set off for the Sonica festival near a lake in a small, quaint village in northern Italy. When I volunteered to "help work at the Sonica festival" I didnt realize I would actually be "working" the festival. Thanks to Sharon I ended up getting staffed to help sort all the artists out in the artists camp. That meant that myself and one other girl worked nearly 24 hours a day with short nap breaks, but did allow me the opportunity to meet nearly all of the artists including Peter Digital (Digital Structures) Atmos, Bamboo Forest, Etnica, Freq, Polaris, Psynema, Space Cat, Wizzy Noise, Zen Mechanics, Phuture Primitive, the entire Ultimae Records crew from France including my heroes Aes Dana, Solar Fields, and Carbon Based Lifeforms, and the masters Merv (Eat Static) and Olli Wisdom (Space Tribe) who were some of the chillest artists ever. Gina, who I'd been travelling India with showed up with Debbie, whom we met in Dharamsala, and Prometheus who was part of our American Turkey-tour crew from Colorado making quite a reunion. I also saw faces of some I'd met in Cape Town, Turkey, and Goa India. The festival was high energy and except for being brought down by a thunderstorm a few hours before scheduled ending, went off fairly smoothly. Then we wisped off to Barcelona for 4 days on our way to the Boom festival, the largest and most organized trance movement in the world. Spain was quite the surreal experience, moreso like a dream as our adventures all revolved around honoring great artists. We arrived to Gerona and stayed in the heart of the stoney old town before hitting the Salvidor Dali museum (who would've been quite the hit at Burning Man) in Figueras. We went to Cap de Cruz for sundowners on the northeastern most point of Spain then to La Rambla in the heart of Barcelona to visit a friend of Sharon's. The next day was dedicated to the brilliant architect and artist Antoni Gaudi, and was spent in a futuristic crystal-geometry church still under construction, apartments with a rooftop alien futurescape, and Guell Park - an organic fantasy world where middle earth meets the underworld. A day on the beach followed, and the ocean was much more enjoyable than the thick chlorinated pool water with the consistency of liquid detergent that they passed as tap water in that city. Then off to Lisbon, Portugal to prepare for the Boom and my baggage, yes everything I owned excpet for my camera and Nalgene bottle (what else do you really need as an American) was lost at the airport. So for three days we hung out at a campground in the city that bordered a large natural park which was quite nice with a stretching canopy of pines and swimming pool. After visiting the extremely uneventful town center and still no luggage we headed to Boom and I had two days to re-prepare my entire yoga workshop by memory with no notes or references. On day 4 I was notified my luggage had been found and was probably sitting in the airport the entire time. We spent 9 hours returning to the airport and retrieving my goods to return to Boom re-energized and fully equipped for some trancin'. The cue for entry at Boom held some trance-goers up for 15 hours! but we managed to breeze in since I was involved with workshops. The festival itself was completely amazing and certainly the most organized and incredible trance festival I've ever attended. After years of reading about Boom I finally got to witness the magic that drives the movement. Aside from a perfect location nestled in a valley in the rolling hilled Portuguese countryside on a lake, and a massive stage, was the Liminal Village. This was the counterpart to the music which was a structure (of many beautifully crafted bamboo architectural structures) where information exchange occurred in the platform of workshops, lectures/discussions, and movies focusing on sustainable living on an idividual and global scale. This was the element that completely transformed the event from a party to an educational tool providing people with practical techniques for immediate change wtihin their lives. Un-believable! I was completely honored to participate in this exchange. I got to meet many of the speakers/visionaries that have written multiple books on human consciousness and evolutionary philosophies such as Daniel Pinchbeck. I also met one of the great masters of Goa Trance, Dick Trevor (Green Nuns of the Revolution) who had probably the most mind blowing set the entire week. Tom (DJ Green from my home family in Colorado) met me there and we shared some amazing experiences over the next week and a half. I also ran into Zay, from Kansas (Interfuse) which was quite a treat and allowed for an international bonding experience we'll never forget. After a week in the heat slipping between the dance floor and the lake, we picked up an Austrian girl and headed to Utopia, the Boom afterparty which was probably the most amazing trance gathering I've been to over the past 8 months. Located at a campground nestled alongside a river, with a large swimming hole, shady trees, moss and ferns, and the thickest vibe ever composed of all the old Goa heads, we danced until our bodies just couldn't take it. Most were then headed off to Morocco for another week long festival Rhythms of Peace, but Sharon and I are slowly heading to Hungary for our last festival Ozora, located outside of Budapest. We arrived in London 2 days ago to catch up with a few friends and are currently staying with Seb (Shakta) and Natasha (Kaia Project) and leave tomorrow for Hungary. Almost all of our luggage was lost again when we arrived in London and was just found by an extreme synchronicity today...except for my didgeridoo. It was been full-on high gear and extremely hectic over the past 5 weeks, but things are beginning to wrap up as just a few days ago I officially purchased my tickets for my return home. I will be returning to the states on August 24th to NYC and then making my way back to Arkansas to arrive around Sept 1st. After the Ozora festival this weekend we will be going through Sweden for about 24 hours to have a barbeque with Beat Bizzare and potentially Son Kite, then off to Lyon, France to spend a couple days with Vincent and Sunny (Aes Dana and wife, the label heads and currently my absolute favorite musician). So what can I say, this past month has let me meet many of my greatest muses and given me experiences that have filled my life with so much magic and inspiration I can't even begin to express in words.

A Month Out of Time - 7/8/07

solomoon — Sat, 08 Jul 2006 09:02:19 GMT

Amazing how quickly a month can pass when you're focused and completely enrolled in something you enjoy so much. Time actually seemed to disappear for nearly a month without any major responsibilities or worries. I must say 24 hours of a yogic lifestyle a day was about the most relaxing, healing, growing experience I've enjoyed since...well... After two months in India I was ready to park myself in one place for a while and the ashram seemed the perfect home. On arrival I knew I had chosen wisely as there were two geodesik domes (similar to those scattering the playa at Burning Man) for meditation out front. The staff were amazing and the head organizer had a personality of gold. Many of those who ran the establishment had great senses of humor and musical talents so we were able to casually experience many deeper aspects of the Hindu tradition from chanting to fire arti (devotional) services. The ashram is located outside of Nasik (5-ish hours from Bombay) in the Sahyadri Mountain range. A center for yogis and holy sites, this area holds the second oldest Shiva temple in India dating around 2,000 years or so. We all feared the worst in monsoon season, but managed to have 3 weeks of nearly perfect, and yes COOL, weather before our one week of terrential downpoor. The rains wash all the critters to higher ground, but other than a few huge scorpions, a giant rat, and a 7-foot cobra, the most diverse array of bird song was the ambience that nature provided. Our group was comprised of about 40 people from every continent around the globe and made for quite the palette of story-telling and "small-worlding" you could imagine. As it turns out, one of the girls from South Africa was at the new years eve party I spun at down in Cape Town. The food was quite bland most of the time and lacked much variety but was plentiful and when special sweet dishes did appear, all's spirits were raised. We were given one day a week to hit town for correspondence with the outside world. Life on the ashram was quite peaceful with 5am wakeup calls and adventure only came when we braved the city. Although we did manage to pass around some bug of diarrhea that cycled multiple times through the group leaving only a couple spared. It was the most intense cleanse we practiced over the 4 weeks and it wasn't even a part of the program. On one of our city trips we experienced the violence of the taxi drivers on strike as they managed to chuck a boulder through the winshield of the local public bus. Luckily no one was harmed, and the bus driver brushed the glass shards off his seat and kept going. Only in India. Another time I hiked from the Trimbukeshwa Shiva Temple up into the mountains above to bathe in one of Shiva's locks of hair spilling a few hundred feet over the peaks as the monsoons nourished the green valleys below. After the course was completed a few of us headed straight to the 5-star Taj Hotel for a swim in the pool (cooincidentally the only sunny day we had seen in over a week) for a swim and a bit of pampering. At about the same time, the monsoons hit full force creating major problems for all of us trying to get back into Mumbai, a city that suffers perhaps the most as the floods raise. From arriving to the train station late, to getting on the wrong train and everyone literally diving off with baggage flying as the train quickly accelerated, to people and bags being left on the train, to getting on another wrong train, to delays, to sinking two cabs, to getting stranded in a suburb outside of Mumbai, the adventure ranked as probably the largest I've experienced in India. But, just as every previous circumstance, the blessings came at all the right times. And the icing on this cake was sweet! The area we got stranded in was more of an upscale area and we happened into a 3-star for some eats when our royal treatment was laid out before us. We managed to celebrate one of the girl's birthdays in style with a feast that just didn't seem to end and a staff that bent over backwards in any possible way they could. I'm now safely back in Mumbai with Ishwar and catching a plane to Rome--what?--very late tonight. Plans continue to change as originally I was to set out for home after my training with a brief stop in the UK. Well, generous friends and opportunity have allowed for a small extension of my trip which will now take me to the ancient city of Rome, allow me to work on staff at the international trance festival of Sonica in Italy, spend a few days on a beach in Barcelona, teach a yoga workshop at BOOM, a 10 day international trance festival in Portugal, and potentially take a short jaunt through England and Scotland before hitting the states. I count my blessings daily and continue to struggle to remain in each and every moment. As for the knowlege I saught in the last month of training, it seemed like a guidebook for how to live a happy, healthy, balanced lifestyle. From physical conditional to mental awareness, to spiritual exploration, yoga certainly seems to be the "science of self-realization." With so many tools, and 8 "limbs" of yogic practice, and about 15 new books from the great yogis of the Bihar School of Yoga and ancient Shiva tradition, I am more than fueled and equipped for my adventure of self-discovery that lies ahead.

6/4/06 - Immanent Wisdom

solomoon — Sun, 04 Jun 2006 09:07:38 GMT

If it's not the plethora of classes providing information for a balanced and conscious lifestyle, nor the laid back mentality of day-to-day activities, then perhaps it's the soaring eagles and alpine breezes that keep travellers renewing their visas in order to spend 6 more months here. This week has certainly been insightful for me as I committed my time to search for a cure to my insomnia and disharmony that has plagued me as a result of years of living an unbalanced life in the states. I've sought the advice and techniques of Shiva devotees, Buddhists, and traditional Tibetan doctors through meditation, yoga, and healing and climbed over 3,000 ft to watch the clouds dance upon the high peaks of the Himilayas in my search for that which seems to be expressed in answers alluding to the fact that I am and have always been the holder of the keys for my self-liberation. It is the external tools that others can provide me that will help tune my focus allowing me to discover that which causes my own disharmony. Some moments being sheltered under a boulder on a mountainside witnessing the power of nature's tempest storm, or chanting through my didge overlooking a waterfall by moonlight is enough to bring me the peace I seek. Other times, the opportunity to FINALLY witness a full-on traditional Indian dance/musical performance in the center of downtown is the medicine that expresses the richness of culture I am fortunate enough to experience. Tonight Gina and I head south again to begin a 4 week intensive yoga teacher training course in an ashram a few hours north of Mumbai. We will be on a strict schedule living on site at the ashram with everything from breathing to eating as part of the program. My hope is that in the midst of living an intense lifestyle night and day with all the focus on learning about the body and mind, that I will truly become aware of the unity necessary for the two to exist in harmony. I might postpone another blog entry until my graduation scheduled for the 5th of June. And so, I surrender fully with no expectation and only my thirst for the ancient knowledge we have so long been cultured to ignore.

5/29/06 - 13,050 ft

solomoon — Mon, 29 May 2006 07:16:32 GMT

The Parvati Valley was quite a welcoming to the Himalayas, and in the spirit of pine strewn mountainsides and alpine breezes we continued north to Manali, the "gateway" to the Himalayas and tourist hub for treks and expeditions of all types in high India. We stayed in the small village of Vashisht centered around a public hot spring and bustling tourist center filled with Indian tourists. Unfortunately the local Indians used the hot spring as a bath 24 hours a day, so casual, relaxing soaks weren't so tempting. We spent a day hiking through the lush Solang Valley following snow melt streams past Shiva Temples and and even spotted what might have been Himalayan leopard...or a Yeti. The next day we looked for solace up to Rhotang Pass with a summit of 13,050ft. A peaceful meditation gazing across snowcaps left us beet red in the face with a sublte reminder that we were, in fact, closer to the sun. Manali is said to be the "Goa" of the north as far as trance gatherings go, but we weren't able to sniff anything out and decided to complete our northern journey with our final destination of Dharamsala/McLeod Gang. The center of the Buddhist world is nestled in a couple of valleys sitting high above the plains and we settled in Bhagsu, a lower-key traveller's village around the corner. Saturated with yoga, reiki, meditation, astrology, philosophy and the like, this area is a playground for the soul and mind with cheap classes on just about anything spiritual. The pace is slow and friendliness the norm, and even nature helps encourage the practice of siesta with daily afternoon thundershowers. We managed to meet a group of Americans and decided to have a western evening at the movies which seemed more like a black-market event with the "theater" buried disguisingly beneath a fruit stand. We caught "The Divinci Code" which accompanied by the worst subtitle translations I have ever seen ended up being perhaps the funniest movie I've seen in ages. With mistranslations like "The Holy Grail" being referred to as "The Holding Grill" and the painting of "The Last Supper" as "Last Summer" it was obvious English was not the translater's first language. Furthermore, why an English movie had English subtitles eludes me, but as for entertainment, it was a top notch night. Afterward we had fruit smoothies in a traveler's bar over live Russian/Israeli/English/Hungarian tunes played with flute, violin, and accordian. This week's plan is to visit the residence of the Dalai Lama and dive into a mass of workshops sampling from the buffet of available knowledge and inspiration.

5/20/06 - Mighty, Mystical Himalayas

solomoon — Sat, 20 May 2006 08:51:23 GMT

A few weeks of temple visits and cityscapes had us anxious to leave the heat of the plains and make for the mountains up north. We stopped first in Rishikesh, also known as the yoga capitol of the world, nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas with million dollar views perched above the Ganges River. What we soon realized was that it wasn't much cooler and reflected the same chaotic, noisey, city scene as we'd quickly grown tired of. I was sick with a fever for most of our time in Rishikesh and aside from some monkeys frolicking about around our hostel and some entertainment by a snake charmer with two cobras in our courtyard, I left fairly unfulfilled and with only cooler weather on my mind. For some reason, our only option was a 14 hour bus ride on a "local" bus north to the Parvati Valley east of Kullu. Packed with people, no reclining seats, no AC, and full speed on crooked-ass roads allowed for no sleep. Watching the driver/road wasn't an alternative as he high-tailed it around large trucks on blind curves at what seemed like speeds exceeding maximum safe velocity. "He knows what he's doing," I think to myself, "he's a professional," trying to convince myself "it's not my time" as I drift off in my headphones with eyes tightly closed. Morning gave way to the silhouette of mountains stretching to the horizon and the waning moon gracefully opened the curtain for dawn. At last we reached our mountain sanctuary set beneath a grove of towering pines, directly on the banks the Parvati River. Reminiscent of Colorado, this was almost like Butterfly Valley (Turkey) X 10 with the canyons reaching on for kilometers up snow melt streams. A small village of Kasol became our playground for a few days with the feel of an Indian Himalayan village, and a population of almost entirely Israelis. Recreation was spent exlporing footpath-only traverses to other small villages and morning yoga from a friendly Nepalese yogi nearby. After all of the hot cities, crowded streets, holy sites, and grand temples, I realize that this is the India that touches me most deeply. The mountains are my temples, the trees my deities, the birds my angels, and the snow-melt river the chanting song of prayer.

5/9/06 - The Skeleton Behind the Mask

solomoon — Tue, 09 May 2006 10:31:01 GMT

After about two weeks in Goa we'd pretty much sunk into the beach scene about as low as you can go. I did manage to get pulled over by the local police who are out to get tourists and charge lots of $ for whatever laws they can find you breaking. Being that I didn't have a valid international drivers license it didn't take long for him to slap a 1,500 Rupee ($30) fine on me. Fortunately he had a good sense of humor about the whole thing since all the $ was going directly into his pocket anyway and I managed to sweetalk $10 back. The truth is he was more interested in why I would be travelling with a girl who wasn't my wife or girlfriend than what law I was breaking. We spent our last night in North Goa back on Anjuna beach for our last sunset which by our luck was at a small trance gathering at Shiva Valley, one of the hotspots on the southern tip of Anjuna's coastline. I managed to get propsed to by a young woman from Iran, and when I realized she didn't want me for my looks or personality I decided jail time really wasn't worth the risk. We then checked out the beach at Palolem, Goa's southern "paradise" beach which frankly was too crowed with tourists for our tastes, but gave me a chance to bump into and personally thank the two Canadians that saved my life from Malaria 2 months earlier in Tanzania. Now is "Indian" holiday season so travel is quite hectic. We squashed the rest of south India to make tracks north where it promises to be a bit cooler. Goa was quite the vacation spot with the comfortable atmosphere of India, but now it seems I've stepped into "real" India. We bounced back through Mumbai and caught Flight 604 up to "even more hectic than Mumbai"-Delhi where we stayed in the backpacker's market area and saw more hippies than we'd seen since Soulclipse. From there we hit Mathura, the birthplace of Krishna, and Vrindaven (the home of the Hare Krishnas) and visited a handful of temples filled with jovial chanting, dancing devotees, pursadam (offered/blessed holy food), a mechanical puppet musem displaying over 30 of Krishna's life stories, and an amazing 10-story ashram. That night after an archaelogical museum filled with buddhist stone carvings from 1AD, we enjoyed balconly seating from our hotel room overlooking a Hindi marriage ceremony below where little Indian men were shaking and dancing like they'd ALL just gotten married. Then we embarked on what we called the "Taj Express" where we trained into Agra in the morning, took 2 hours for viewing the Taj Mahal and trained overnight to Varanasi, the center of the Hindu religion. Sitting right on the holy Ganges River (believed to be flowing from Shiva's hair or toe, there seems to be a discrepancy), we attended a sunset Ganga aarti (river worship) ceremony last night and witnessed sunrise puja (offerings, prayers) from a boat this morning. Today we cruised up to Saranath to hit multiple Buddhist temples to begin perhaps the last chapter of my "world religious site/studies" for this journey. But in the past week I have seen behind the mask that is displayed through the facades of the markets and temples. Multiple train rides have allowed us backstage passes to "real" life of the lesser fortunate of India (as train tracks are the "waste zone" in all senses of the word) whose lives border the transportation arteries. Without gruesome detail, it is an understatement to say that I was reminded just how "rich" we really are in the states. It's not so easy after a full day of refusing elders and children beggars enough change for food to return to your hotel for the owner's version of a "sad story" as he too asks for anything extra you can give. Throughout the day, as mad as things seem to get in this "organized chaos", you can always count the blessings that come just at the right time to keep the flow flowing. However, I still just can't understand Indian people's obsession, not with the absence of personal space issues, nor the constant fixated staring, but with the inability to refuse touching and fondling the mouthpiece of my didgeridoo. And what's with the confused, indecisive, frustrated looking headnod, that apparently means "yes"? It's not a nod, so much as a figure-eight motion that is a blur between yes and no that looks as though they're just barely holding it together as they grant your request. So Gina and I just decided to call it the FFEHN (pronounced "fen") Frustrated Figure-Eight Head-Nod as a code for an instance like "and then he just looked down and gave me the FFEHN!"

4/25/06 - Destination Goa Vol. 2006

solomoon — Tue, 25 Apr 2006 16:32:34 GMT

It only took me 11 years (and a 12 hour bus ride from Mumbai)--and seemingly one year too late--but I finally made it. The backackers paradise retreat and the motherland and birthplace of the global trance movement, Goa, India. So what's it like? A museum. In the sense of like "oh this is where the big beach gatherings 'used' to happen, and this is the main club that 'used' to be packed with trance-heads from around the world." But what I realize, after all this time, is that that is enough. It really is magical here. It's as beautiful as the photos and just as I imagined it. Goa is actually quite similar to my African experience in Zanzibar. The landscape is composed of beautiful beaches, palm trees, and many light-skinned tourists. The residents seem to run on the same slow clock, however "service" actually exists in India. The stench that so frequenty thickened the air in Africa is replaced by the drifting aroma of incense. Our first stop was, of course, Anjuna (the beaches where "Goa-trance" was born) and our timing put us arriving on the day of the infamous market. Hot, colorful, and stretching for what seemed like forever the market was filled with psytrance blairing from all angles and aggressive vendors trying to make their last sales of the season. A little overwhelmed I walked away with one small pack of incense and was soon reminded of why I really came. It was evening, and after 11 years I witnessed my first sunset from Anjuna's comforting, and somewhat tattered beach. On our museum tour, Gina and I visited club Paradiso, the hot spot for psytrance during high season, as it has mostly moved indoors. The venue was quite nice with weblike vines weaving columns and archways throughout and blacklight paintings accenting the walls. We then headed north to Vagator, where most of the trance occurs nowadays. The Nine Bar is another nexus for trancers offering psytrance nightly on an outdoor patio overlooking the Arabian Sea. We took a day to visit local temples/churches to get our first flavor of Indian spiritual culture. Surprisingly there are many Christian churches in Goa because of the Portuguese's tendency to conquer any majestic, tropical coastlines and forcefully impose their beliefs on the indigenous peoples. However, Shiva Temples are plenty and we managed to make a few friends and get a couple tours from willing students living/studying onsite. The day-to-day life here is quite comfortable with afternoons chasing waves, yoga on the beach, sunsets over the sea, and accomodation for a little over 2 bucks a night. It's hip to cruise the villages on a scooter, and when we're not dodging cows, we sometimes see wild peacocks and monkeys. A bit of downtime allowed for some calculations that showed the possibility of life for a year here for less for $4,000. Hmm.

4/15/06 - Choosing bliss

solomoon — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 10:47:02 GMT

Well 2.5 weeks in Turkey certainly flew by in a wave of enjoyment. Unfortunately it didn't begin that way. From the moment Carolyn and I arrived in Turkey, we became victims of the dishonest, scamming nature of what seemed to be the ways of the Turkish people. From taxis, to buses, to accomodation we quickly became soured on the scene in Turkey. We checked into a pansiyon in beautiful old town, and the next morning arose to a beautiful sunrise over the Mediterranean with snowcapped mountains and city bay cliffs overlooking the waters. Soon Rae rejoined us, and two others from Colorado, Prometheus and Gina, completed our Rocky Mountain crew. The city of Antalya itself was quite nice with markets ligning the streets, Turkish rugs carpeting the walls, and the colorful bouquet of trance-heads from around the globe, the likes of which this city seemed to have never seen before. Frustrations after being laughed at by a restaurant owner for being vegetarian pretty much iced the cake, until we smoothed things over with some fellow freaks at a local joint serving apple tobacco in water pipes and the turkish favorite Elma Cay--apple tea. After some good rest we were off to the Soulclipse festival which became a full day of travel and waiting to enter the gates. Finally inside it started to rain and we somehow happened into nearly all the other Americans we were hoping to meet in a matter of minutes who had all simultaneously just arrived as well. Glad to see some familiar American faces like Talia and Dale from DC, Sharon and Onnomon from Phili, and others from the west coast including James (Deeper in Zen), we set up camp on a hill we called Gaian Mountain and within minutes of the opening ceremony a storm blew in with pouring rain and hail that completely flooded the valley below where most others were camped. The storm had not only flooded the majority of tents, but took out the main stage and blew our chance to witness the opening ceremony of whirling dervishes. Luckily there was a second stage and later that night the rompus began. The site was quite ideal located next to a freezing cold river in two valleys connected by a food/clothing market in the middle. As the weather calmed grassy meadows were filled with trancers and snow-capped peaks shone in the distance. There were roughly 7,000 people from around the globe (the most beautiful people I've ever seen) and a slew of languages colored the air. There were more dreads than a Bob Marley show and the ethnic spectrum was broad. The greatest numbers came in from from Japan, Israel, and Australia. By Thursday the main stage was back up completing the three stage formation with the chill stage nestled above the river. The challenge of balancing sleep and dancing became more complicated as the week went on and we were blessed with a picture-perfect day for the solar eclipse. Fortunately the main stage was still out bringing all attendees together for one massive viewing. Lasting for about 3 minutes of strange darkness, the eclipse painted the image of dawn in 360 degrees around the horizon. The music was silent during the eclipse and Simon Posford, of course, was given the honor of breaking the silence with a goa set immediately following. After 7 days of absolute paradise it became clear to me that we have a choice every single moment of our lives and for some reason we tend to choose discomfort and suffering. When you take the time to actually live life instead of a preoccupation for the past/future, the chioce becomes simple. Choose bliss. In doing so, the 5 of us, now joined by Chelsea, a friend from New Jersey, headed north to Olympos, where many of the post festival-goers went. We got a room in the middle of an orange orchard and with limitless citrus at our fingertips enjoyed a beach on the Mediterranean, some ancient ruins, a disappointing afterparty, and a exodus of trancers up Mount Olympos. Olympos is the mountain where Hercules is believed to have slayed and buried the Chimera, a fire breathing goat/lion/dragon. Today the naturaly gas-fed flames of the dragon still continuously burn out of the rocks. We had a jam session with didgeridoos and flutes and enjoyed the warmth of the smoke free flames until late in the night. Now feeling much warmer toward the Turks, as there actually were some who were courteous enough to be hospitable, the 6 of us decided to rent a van and tour the western coast of the Turkish countryside on our way back to Istanbul. In the next 6 days of bliss we soaked sun on a beach and swam in a lagoon in Oloodeniz, visited the grandeur of Butterfly Valley filled with the thick aroma of canyon wildflower hikes and the most amazing vegetarian food, spent a day at the Sultinaye hot springs and full on natural mud bath, visited the ancient ruins of Efesus, and eventually made it to a comfortable backpackers in Istanbul near the Eye of Sophia and the Blue Mosque. Our last night as a crew, we shared in apple and rose tea and another round of waterpiping. It was time to part ways and after Carolyn and I had been travelling together for nearly 4 months, she sent off for Egypt and Gina and I for India. We arrived safely in India two days ago and are currently resting at our friend, Ishwar's place, in the heart of Bombay. We took a full moon drive and he showed us the features of significance in and around the waterfront including the Gateway to India. In a couple days we'll head south to the next destination on our pilgrimage and one of the most anticipated, Goa.

2/22/06 - Dead Seas and Dead Cities

solomoon — Wed, 22 Mar 2006 10:00:17 GMT

With fields more information than one can see in a few days, we joined a small tour group to see a bit of the countryside and journeyed all the way to the Dead Sea, the lowest point on the earth's surface at around 400 metres below sea level. We visited Mt. Masada, King Herod's "fortress," which overlooks the Dead Sea and then soaked in the saltwaters of the Sea with 28% salt content and enough bouyency to keep you afloat without effort. The surrounding landscape, even though the first day of spring, was a desert to which I can't remember the name, and was very reminiscent of Utah and the landscapes that drape the hillside on the way to Black Rock City. If only Burning Man had a lake like this, though people would probably end up with skin cancer after the salt ate off the top few layers of skin. Afterward we stopped off at Qumran, the site containing the caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found, and found our way to the oldest remaining city in the world, we are told, of Jericho. However the "remains remaining" weren't much more than some half-buried mud brick walls, which looked more like an unkept, abandoned construction site. Sitting above the city was the Mount of Temptation, but we didn't have enough time to summit before dark. This morning we attended part of an Armenian monk service where we were bathed in chants from the some-th century. Our final religious stop was the Dome of the Rock, the central Mosque where Muslims believe Mohammed decsended to the earth and near the Golden Gate where the 2nd coming of the Messiah is to take place as he (she) will finally enter the city of Jerusalem at the end of times. That will probably conclude our adventure in Jerusalem and beginning this afternoon with Rae, we will slowly be making our way toward the southern lands of Turkey as the approaching eclispe beckons us.

2/20/06 - The Holy Land

solomoon — Mon, 20 Mar 2006 19:27:13 GMT

Holy and technological. Zzzt--back to the 1st world...sort of. At least in the sense of architecture, cleanliness, and conveniences. After all night travel with a brief stop in Ethiopia --where our experience was restricted to the airport, only amplifying my curiosity for the mother country of Africa--we arrived in the "white city" (based on architecture, not skin color) of Tel Aviv. Although blending in was quite a bit easier in this "white" city and I became but another white skin with dreads in this quite progressive culture elegantly infused with a spectrum of ethnicities. We set afoot from our home base in Old Yaffa (old Town-south Tel Aviv) and worked our way along the Mediterranean Sea through markets no longer filled with African crafts, but with an amazing amount of junk and what appeared to be house-wife crafts. Here the sidwalks weren't wridden with gaukers and bystanders, but instead with vigilant citizens driven by aspirations and the style of progress. The streets were clean and inviting and everywhere we turned were the words graffitied across the city's palette of surfaces "know hope." We were tipped that the hip spot on a Friday afternoon was Drum Beach, where we found the local flavor filled with drums and dancing to celebrate the sunset across the sea. We managed to meet the friendliest of locals who all anxiously welcomed us to Tell Aviv. Back to the hostel for a power nap and I'm not sure if it was the power of the holy land or the mint tea shared from Morrocan to Arab cultures, but I had what quite possibly could be the most mystical and insightful personal revelation I've ever had in a reflective meditation that evening. That night we rose quickly with high hopes of finding the magic of the Israeli trance scene only to realize that everyone was resting after the huge Purim celebration a week earlier where all the colors flew. Exhausted and defeated we slept most of the next day, which was sabbath, and so we were in spirit of the rest of the city. Well rested and ready to see why so many civilizations thought war was necessary, we made our mecca to the Holy City of Jerusalem. Super hip and progressive, we all were in awe of the rich history Jerusalem carried, and the delicate integration of technology and culture that eminated. We found a hostel within the old city's walls and today decided to tackle the entire Old City in a single swoop. We visited the West Wall where it is believed Adam was placed on the earth and where the arc of the covenant was place at some point, we visited the Christian, Armenian, Jewish, and Islamic Quarters, King David's Tower Museum, the Dome of the Rock, the St. James Cathedral, the Church of the Sepulchre where it is believed that Jesus "died, was buried and rose again on the third day", the room where the last supper occured, and an artistic exhibition of the culture of Bedhouin women. After more than 5,000 years of war, conquering, collapse, rebuilding, and more conquering, we were fully saturated with religion and information and called it a day. Tomorrow we hope to float on the salty waters of the Dead Sea and climb Mount Masada, "Fortress Mountain."

3/13/06 - Maesha Mzuli (Good life)

solomoon — Mon, 13 Mar 2006 17:29:48 GMT

And there it is, over in flash, 10 days of sunning, swimming, and snorkeling on the beach. Why did I think 10 days would be enough? Geez. We were lucky enough to enjoy beautifully sunny days for the most part with only a couple of rainy days which gave us a nice break from all that tanning and swimming. Carolyn and I had no trouble sinking into the good life of Zanzibar with the relaxed spirits of the locals and the sunburned faces of the tourists which turned over like the seasons every few days. Days were filled with just a minimal amount of effort and nights with unwinding around campfires and on moonlit outdoor couches. Some locals ran a restaurant featuring strictly African cuisine with portions about twice as big as your face for around $2 (so you know I was in heaven). We met another American and an Australian who we buddied around with most of the time as they were on the same "low-impact" schedule we were. One clear night we pitched in and rented a Dhow (zanzibar sail boat) and took some Kinyagi (a local gin served in pouches--about 4 shots for a buck) and some Tangawizi's (a Coca-Cola beverage "ginger soda" drink which made quite the combo) for a moonlight sail toasting "maesha mzuli" and "maesha mrefu" (long life) as we'd learned from our darker skinned cousins. More volleyball, frisbee, and snorkeling eventually found us back in Stone Town and now back to the mainland. Even though plagued with tourists, Zanzibar truly was African paradise. Back to the hot, sticky, smelly city all over again and this will about wrap up our travels through Africa for now, although over the past few weeks, I've found out about another 5 weeks worth of places I would love to explore. Now taking donations...

3/8/06 From distress to disease (continued)...

solomoon — Wed, 08 Mar 2006 09:51:22 GMT

Gombe Stream National Park The boat ride to Gombe Stream was about 2.5 hours of swaying in the rain on a rickedy boat with a fishing boat sized motor. When we arrived to our rest house it was literally like something out of a movie nestled in the dense rainforest with baboons crawling around. Our first trek to see the chimps was through the pouring rain and on our way up the mountain our guide mentioned we were approaching a lookout point known as "Jane's Peak" after, of course, Jane Goodall--most world-reknowned for her chimpanzee research and their interaction with humans. We had heard she was in town and we came to find out she only visits Gombe Stream (the home of her research) two days a year and coincidentally they were the same two days we had planned treks. As we approached the peak, it was again, as if out of a movie, for there, in the pouring rain overlooking a lush valley blanketed in dense fog, was the long, straggly, grey-haired gypsy herself stealing a few minutes of contemplation in her old playground. We managed to meet her although she seemed much less interested in humans so we proceeded up the trail, overstepped the carcass of a black mamba to finally find a family of extremely fascinating chimps near the top of the mountain. Soaked we returned to rest house where we were completely bombarded by baboons who managed to open our door and steal some bread and a banana from our kitchen. The next day we visited the chimps again and "showered" in the Acombe Stream waterfall. The rest of the stay included butterflies, giant trees--reminiscent of the Syntropic 4 flyer--, swimming in lake Tanganyika and a fullmoonrise over the park. Back to Kigoma and we spent our last day walking through the small, reddish streets of a local neighborhood where children were screaming "impela, impela!" (futball/soccer) at the two mzungu's that were sorely out of place. Evidentally there is a large screen tv amidst the shantily constructed houses and shops where the locals keep up with the world scores. Carolyn joined the locals in a game of Mancala, which quickly became the event of the day as all the children gathered around to watch her win. We met a couple local refugees from the Congo around our age that accompanied us to Jakobsen's beach (beautiful paradise) which turned out to be scammers begging for money. We snorkeled and finally saw our first zebras and vervet monkeys and concluded with a not-so-Valentiney Valentine's dinner at the most expensive, western joint in town. Then back to Dar and up to Arusha, nexus for safaris to the Serengetti and treks up Kilimanjaro. (and busted, death-trap streets to which Carolyn sprained her ankle by falling into a 3 foot deep dark ditch on the side of the road--safety and lawsuits do not set the standards here) Safaris We reconnected with our fellow Canadians in Arusha and planned a 5 day safari which began with a cultural tour of Mto Wa Mbu near the Great Rift, a village of Masai people, the indigenous tribes of northern Tanzania. That evening we visited Lake Manyara's wildlife and spent the next couple of days in the Serengetti with close encounters with a whole pride of lions, cheetah kills, monkeys, thousands of wildebeasts, and elephants with tusks the size of a wooly mammoth. After Serengetti we camped along the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater, the present-day home of thousands of animals and literally a timeline of homosapiens with remains from our cousins, homo erectus and habilus, all the way through to the current pastoralist Masai that inhabit the area with their herds of cattle. We then took a day to hike through the Embakai and Olomati craters and caught views of the only volcano still active in Tanzania. On the way home we visited a Masai Boma (village) where we shared views into such a unique culture who live in mud/straw huts with a diet of beef, milk, and blood. Although a fairly bland diet, they are a colorful people with bright colored garb and song and dance. Malaria That night we made it safely back to Arusha and I awoke in the night with a fever. The following day I was drained and weak and fortunately bumped into a paranoid Canadian that insisted I go to the local clinic and get a blood test. It only cost around $5 for the test and doctor consultation to which I found I did, in fact have malaria. Not having done that much research, I wasn't that sure what I had gotten myself into and Carolyn's worrysome spread of western myths had me thinking I had really done it this time and could easily be on my deathbed. Fortunately I insisted on a second and third "professional" opinion and later came to find out that I had nothing to worry about. That afternoon I got medicine and after about 13 hours of sleep I felt fine. I got retested last week and after my brief and lucky 24 hour bout with malaria, it no longer resides in my system. Mt. Meru Due to the major drought in Tanzania, few places have electricity unless they have their own generators. Some get periods of electricity that last only in the day for a few hours or in the evening. After a bit of time at the Oasis lodge in Arusha (generator equipped), poolside we planned a trip up Mt. Meru. It was 1/3 the cost of climbing Kilimanjaro and supposedly more scenic. Also steeper and quicker. Most of the tourists we spoke to that climbed Kili seemed to have struggled so much with the cold and elevation sickness that they didn't even really enjoy it. Carolyn being out of commission for a trek, I met up with the two Canadians and we decided to crank out Meru in 3 days. The first day we hiked a meadow up about 1,000 metres, the second up another 2,000 metres (the most I've ever climbed in a day) and back down to the upper camp of a total of about 10,000 feet in elevation change in a day. Hectic. I got worked, but managed to summit in time for one of the best sunsets I've seen here and amazing views to Kili. All in all it was an amazing hike with a fair bit of wildlife interaction with Korbus Monkeys and a few giraffes hanging around out camp at night. Unwind "Pole-pole" (pronounced "poh-lay" slowly slowly in Swahili) After Meru it was time for us all to part and quit the tourist scene (in some sense) and Carolyn experienced our first major public transportation trip on a 9.5 hour busride back down to Dar es Salaam. It was like riding on an old greyhound and really was quite seamless other than being extremely hot and taking about 1.5 hours longer than quoted. The next day we caught a fairy to the "other" tourist attraction of Tanzania, the achipelago of Zanzibar off of the east coast. We stayed a couple days in Stone Town (the old town center) and then headed up to where I am now, Kendwa Rocks Beach on the northwest coast of the island. We caught a good local band in Stone Town that had sort of a mambo-african-reggae-world flavor and met some locals that work up here. Stone Town is primarily Muslim, but the character is more of something around Europe. One minute it seems we could've been on some narrow, crooked streets of Italy, and the next was like the cover of the Muslimgauze album "Veiled Sisters" with women so covered only thier eyes shown. The police in Africa are also very friendly and helpful (usually who I go to for directions). They never seem to be flexing thier authority, but actually serve the purpose of "helping" citizens and tourists--wow. The past few days on the beach have been extremely slow with bit of snorkeling on some coral reefs, some drumming/didging/singing with some locals/tourists around a beach campfire at nighttime, some teaching of capoeira to some curious young African children, and much swimming and sunning under the palm trees. Our plan is to chill here for a total of about 8 days doing VERY little and then head to another part of the island for some more snorkeling and possibly swimming with dolphins. Then in less than a week, we depart for one week in Israel on our way to the full solar eclipse festival in Turkey.

2/23/06 - From distress to disease

solomoon — Thu, 23 Feb 2006 12:27:47 GMT

Before we sent out for the chimpanzee trek we spent an afternoon trying to sort out mailing packages back to the US, making it literally, the most hectic day we've had. The streets of "real" Africa was just like out of National Geographic, characterized by individuals selling fruit on the streets, bicycles overloaded with produce, security guards with machine guns, and a large population of Muslims celebrating a holiday for Hussein, the 3rd decendant of Mohammed. A few times a day the air was filled with chants and prayers being broadcast over the loudspeakers from the nearby Mosques, which was often overcome by the thick smell of extremely dirty streets. Aside from all the "flycatchers" trying to sell me safaris, I felt somewhat welcomed by the friendly nature of east Africans and the frequent beccons of "hey, Rasta Mon." I managed to have lunch with a refugee from Somalia who shared stories of witnessing his parents death through bombings, and his current struggle as a refugee to find work to save $ in order to join his brother in Mozambique. That afternoon Carolyn and I went to visit Makambusho (the Village Museum) of outdoor examples of traditional thatched huts, etc. of local tribes. We caught a traditional dance performance by a local group then headed back to the Nyerere Cultural Centre in Dar es Salaam for another dance performance by a group who offers workshops and performances in China, South Korea. At the end Carolyn and I joined them on stage to show off our mzungu (white tourist) moves as we attempted to mimic their ancient culture. Early the next morning we took a flight to Kigoma, a town located on Lake Tanganyika, the world's longest, and 2nd deepest freshwater lake. We landed on a dirt runway and taxied up to the world's smallest airport made up of about 3 small rooms and no technolody. Our bagswere escorted up on the back of a blue, beat-up pickup truck. The roads were poorer than poor, but we made it safely to our stay at the Aqua Lodge. The lodge sat on the sandy shore of the warm lake and reminded me of the 3rd-world photos I have seen of the paradise beaches in Goa, India. Kigioma was nothing more than a small village with a boombing market in the centre. The next morning we departed on our "private" boat across the lake to Gombe Stream National Park, residence of the most studied and protected chimpanzees...