life in a broader perspective, where everything and nothing is different, that's all

Drawing a conclusion out of a journey of nine months
There are easier tasks
Today is tuesday, it's a warm sunny day in the Netherlands, but also cloudy, and when the clouds come it is cold
That is today, or at least now
12.30 pm, tuesday 15th of june 2010
Tomorrow will be different, as well as the conclusion
How to possibly answer the question 'how was it?' when it was everything?
But the one thing, above all, that is remarkable is the broader perspective
That is an unchangeable change after this journey
The world is bigger than before
It's not only about my house anymore, my friends, my happiness, my agenda
There is more around
There is not only that which the eyes can see anymore, that what the heart craves for
The motivation for action isn't the own happiness anymore
Or better, it is
But the own happiness has broadened, spread, has permeated the surroundings, the people around, the nature around
How freeing it is not to see one self as the starting point of life, but life as the starting point of one self
Everything remains the same
The friends, the job, the doubts, the jealousy, the loves, the interests, the regrets, the exaltation, the uncertainty
But it's the importance that has shifted
From 'I' to 'not only I anymore'
The eyes still see the same things, the lips still form the same words
Disturbingly comforting how fast one can adapt and adapt again

But while the one eye is focused on the own life, the other one is looking at the world
And that is what going away does
It offers you the perspective of the world next to that of your own life
That is what going away does
It gives you space to breathe where before there were dark clouds of self-pity
That is what going away does
It gives the chance to come back to the home of which the evidence has been unveiled, at least for a little while
That is wat going away does
It teaches you to trust on more than your own limited ability to make decisions
It teaches you to let go in order to be better able to receive
It teaches you to breathe where there's fear
It teaches you to act where there's inertia
It teaches you to wait where there's impatience
It teaches you to stay still where there's restlessness

All of this I've read in a book before
But the insights a book can give you are only useful to that extent in which they are brought in contact with the proper, tangible, concrete experiences

That you should just do the things,
That is what I've learned

Now it's cloudy and windy again
and 15.30 pm
15th of june 2010

The end

I am waiting for the right words to come
to form the answer on the question
how was it
Come back in a few days and read the real end

in the mean time
I want to thank you for reading, following from far and closer, supporting, commenting, advising and loving
thank you, merci, efcharisto, tessekur ederim, kheyli mamnum, sukriya DANKU

the river and the girl

Paris
half of the day under the ground finding places away from the chaos of people
to rest, to put the backpack on the ground
waiting for friends, busy as always
at the Seine a girl comes to us
playing the guitar
while her friends pack the tent they were sleeping in, to find another place for tonight
she begins by wondering why she is born in france why she lives in paris why she has to be schizofrenic
she sings, I cry a little bit
but only when she's gone
because she is the one with sorrows, I'm just the witness, I can only watch and realize how lucky I am
I cry because the whole journey seems to be lying on the shoulders today, because of the pain I have seen on the way, the misery, the poverty, the dead people
because of this girl who doesn't fit in
because of the West that is so luxurious, so anonimous, so rich, so indifferent, so busy as always
because of the sad faces in the subway
because of the ipods in everyone's ears
nobody listening to the surrounding sounds, nobody there, everybody where

Ganga, my friend from India, is here with me for a few days
the girl looks at him, longing for his homecountry where she has never been before
longing for it's liberty, it's spirit, it's nature
through her eyes I see India again
far away but still present

I am not sad, it's just my eyes that are crying

Tamara from Budapest

Tamara, Georgian, moved ten years ago with daughter and former boyfriend to Budapest
Tamara designs clothes
She doesn't like to do the dishes, she smokes
she likes to surrender to life
She doesn't have any privacy because her job is her life
In Georgia, communism was the boss
There has been a time when everybody lost their money
The poor, the rich, and the in-betweens
It was a period in which there were no classes, because everybody possessed the same : nothing
To become rich everybody had to start from scratch
Tamara wanted to design clothes
When, in Georgia, there were new shoes on the market, they were in every shop
Everybody had to wear these new shoes, no other choice
Very promising perspective for a fashion designer
She grabbed life by the tail and came with man and daughter to Budapest
Man has gone back to Georgia
Daughter is Sophie and 18 years and wears her mother's clothes and is a disarmingly honest young woman
Tamara started from scratch in Budapest because that is what one should do when being new somewhere
Her workroom is her bedroom
That explains her life
Working is sleeping is still working
She just finished the summercollection
The second one in the series of cheap collections
Before she designed exclusive expensive clothes that asked a lot of time
Now she makes exclusive affordable clothes and tries to keep it simple
She thinks a lot, she has a philosophy, a goal she wants to reach with her clothes and her life
Most people don't see that, most people only see the clothes, but they love them and can't explain why
That is the secret of a philosophy behind a concept
That is good art
You can't explain it, but it works
She doesn't want to make special clothes for a few rich ones
She doesn't want to make clothes for many people, made by many before her
She wants to make special clothes for many
Special, because she doesn't look at the trends
but at what she feels when summer is coming
or winter

When you look at someone, you have an idea of that person
When you talk with someone, your initial idea is being confirmed or corrected
When you talk with someone often, then you have so many ideas that they don't matter anymore
When you leave someone, you learned a lot of that someone
From some more than others

Tamara Barnoff. Fashion designer en good friend after two days
Time is of no importance in human relationships

European experiences

Wanted to hitchhike from Budapest to Vienna
two hours and thirty minutes by car said Google
everything was ready
had asked God to give me the ability of right distinction and a safe arrival at my goal
but there was fear
because of being alone now
a man who held his hands at his belt and didn`t look me straight in the eyes but first did a quick bodyscan was enough to lose the trust that wasn`t there in the first place
a man whose girlfriend didn`t have small breasts and neither a wide t-shirt, but at least in that way I could see she was a woman,
to whom I told that I was looking for a lift to Vienna, looked at me and asked me What kind of lift do you mean
that was the last drop, no man would be trusted by me today, not even the trustable ones
most of the familycars were full and those who weren`t were taken by more fat than skinny people whose goal was rather the Mc Drive inn than Vienna
So after one hour I gave up and gave in to the longing for safety and security
The trainstation was within a 5 minutes walk so that was a nice present from the world
I payed 30 euro`s and sat in the fast modern jetrail whose charm was nothing compared to my love, the Balkan-express
But everything together, Eastern Europe had been crossed a bit more and Vienna was reached
where even the little sideways are huge and where vegetarians like to eat things in the form of sausages and even lobsters and where I saw Jan and Els, the first familiar faces since a long time
I realize that I`m not giving Europe the respect she deserves by crossing her in such a hurry
but for the moment there is no time
and neither time to lose
on the 31st of may I am expected to be at Roland Garros because that is a present from my sister whom I`ll meet in exactly four days
unbelievable

From the day I set foot in Istanbul again, the West is slowly coming back into the veins
the safe traffic, the metrosystem that leads you to wherever you need to go, that warns you for the gap!, that tells you which way you should get out!, that costs you as much as two meals in India!, the women wearing whatever they feel like, the supermarkets where there`s nothing you can`t buy, the places where there is space for art to be made and to be seen, the terrasses, the weather, unreliable as ever,
the cows that are not on the street anymore, the garbage that is being collected!, the eyes of the people not staring at you anymore, the atm`s that have to be visited by me much more frequently than before
and so on
coming back from the East via Istanbul and slowly making my way to Belgium
a good way to get used again to this great, exhausting, peaceful, capitalist, familiar, secure world where I was born

for the next few hours I am in Munich
then there will be a nightbus to Paris
the last stop before
HOME

budabudapest

I could cry again but I won't

because I am in a coffee bar at the railwaystation in Sofia maybe
I could cry because of the beautiful way all things fall into
Arriving here at six in the morning and a train all the way to Budapest leaving at 12 am
Sofia. The woman behind the counter smokes
In fact, no woman who doesn't smoke
In fact, no man who doesn't smoke
A church where religion still means something for young and old
Fashion of the 80's without an ironical touch next to the newest expensive designers
And then the train!
You wouldn't get me more easily on the most luxurious cruise than on this incredibly romantic slowly but steadily moving oldtimer
A coupé all for myself
The train hasn't changed since it was made, in the 40's I would say but the sign says 1970, I believe
Don't go all the way to Russia for a transcontinental trainexperience.
Get on the Balkan-Express
What a treasure what a pleasure
For 60 euro I am traveling from Sofia all the way to Budapest
I couldn't be more at ease than here
I don't need to be anywhere else than here now
Smoothly on my way to the next stop, Budapest, where some singing friends called The Durgas who I once met by accident in Paris will be coincidently performing on sunday I heard from the girlfriend of a bandmember who appears to be a good friend of Jan, my good friend. What a world.
And then heading to Vienna where some biological and Belgian friend is living for already 4 months and I didn't know
That's enough looking forward, you never know what life will bring
But do me a favour, come and take this train
You should've left already
work will wait
And is in any case not that important as we think
come

I could cry but I won't

because I am in a soupbar maybe
or because I realize it is because of the corny music on television
The journey flashes frequently through head and body
Memories are there without being asked for
Are there, because they once have been lived
Because I wanted to
Because life has given me what I needed
Memories are there again because house is coming closer, because I am back in Istanbul
Again, like seven months ago, crossed the bridge that connects West and East
across the river that seperates West and East
I could have cried, or at least looked around in confusion, because I can walk around again in pants and t-shirt, because people here know about tourists, because of not being special anymore
Because there are no cows in the way anymore
Because the weather starts to ressemble that of the country in which I was born
Because it feels safe being in a place you know
As much as you don't want to admit it, as much as you want to call yourself a die-hard traveler, not afraid of unknown paths, holes in the ground that call themselves toilet,fruit- and vegetable markets in Pakistan, wooden things that call themselves bed,snakes,men in little villages,cold mountaintops,new people, all the time new people, diarreah that follows days of constipation etc., women sitting on your lap in the bus, dying people in trafficaccidents
still it feels good seeing the West again
the well-known signs of a Western city
How beautiful it all has been, it is good being on the road again. Home now
The only missing parts are the old familiar faces
The mama biting her nails for 8½ months now
the papa following uninterruptedly, sometimes from far, sometimes ın silence, sometimes with words of poems
The sister giving advise on the right moments and never not being there, not even in the night not
The best friend whose life has taken so many turns that it is almost abnormal that I wasn't there for her
Susan, who was the special companion at the very special beginning and has gone her own beautiful way afterwards
Lau, who was in the big middle part and is already applying all the lessons we have learned
Jan, who silently without me realizing it fully, gave me his silence and peace to take with
And all the other faces who have helped and followed
who are luckily all still there and who I will see,meet and befriend again one by one with all my gratitude

But first I will still have to come a little bit closer
The busticket to Sofia is in the pocket
Bulgaria
From there it goes to Budapest
In the trainstation of Istanbul a hand-written note was hanging saying that the trains to Europe are not in function and we don't know when they will work again
That's why I'll take the bus
Until it stops

the next step

Next monday the overlandtrip will make an exception on its name again
Considering the negative advise of many about crossing the Baluchistandesert and considering the time I have left to get back home,
I will take a plane to Istanbul.
The plane to Tehran was too expensive and the Iranian embassy wouldn`t allow me a visa in time.
So, heading to the West a bit faster than foreseen.
From Istanbul I will most probably cross Romania, Hungary, Austria.
But let us first reach Istanbul. Step by step.
Home is coming closer.
As well as lower temperatures.
From 12pm until 15pm one can do nothing here except lying on a bed and breathing the dry, hot air in and out.
But, no complaints. It is beautifully interesting here in Pakistan.
Happy to eventually have come here.

See you on the next step.

Pakistan - that is all

In Bhai Pheru, a village 70 km from Lahore, I meet father Leopold.
Father Leopold, or Bara Father, the big father, or Baba Ji, or father Ji, or Leopold Evens from Meeuwen-Gruitrode, Belgium, is living since 40 years in Pakistan. As missionary. But not to convert. Because that word is often being misinterpreted.
Father Leopold is here to help the Christians of Pakistan out of their miserable situation, to integrate them in this society where Christians are still often considered as untouchables. Unbelievable. Sometimes I feel as if I am being transported directly into the Middle Ages. Villages where Christians are living together in miserable conditions far from the centre, next to the open sewers. Muslims who, as I am being told, don’t want to talk to them, don’t want to touch them, don’t want to eat with them. This is what is happening in the villages, in the city they are apparently and luckily a few steps ahead. But here, where literate people are exceptional (only 25 percent of the population is literate),here the future of the Christians is often hopeless.
To help them to integrate and to release them from the status of untouchable, education is the key, father Leopold realized. When one is literate and well educated, then the kind of his religion only comes in second place. Then he is appreciated because of what he can do for the society. Christian, Sikh, Muslim or whatever.
That is why father Leopold started founding schools. For the Christians, because they needed it, but also for the Muslims, because bringing together these two religions is of utmost importance to get rid of the prejudices.
The Middle Ages are not far, seeing the working conditions and the feudal system. The largest part of the land is in the hands of a few who own factories, brick ovens, land for wheat. The villagers work for them, often living in houses – if a room with a bed can be given that name – next to the working place. For cement there is no money. Bricks are being piled up and that is called wall. They are fully dependent on the landlord who often doesn’t even give them the minimum wage. Many children don’t go to school, because that means two hands less to work meaning less income.
When these people could be given the opportunity of a good education, even only one member of the family becoming literate, then there is hope for a better, independent future.
That is what Father Leopold knows and what he lives for. Child by child, stone by stone, school by school. He doesn’t keep anything for himself. His patience is endless. “You need to have 25 years of patience.” That is what his predecessor, Father Henri, told him and what he himself found out to be the truth.
Between the houses of the brickers he has started at least three times a little school. Every time he was chased out by the bosses. Bosses, at least these ones, don’t like smart people.
Under the name St. Paul’s educational system, Father Leopold has founded 15 schools now and 60 churches, spread throughout the villages of this parish as big as the Belgian province of Limburg.
Much money is needed. He doesn’t always know where it is coming from. People he never met before, but who hear about him and his work, and know that it is right what he is doing, transfer money or send containers. From different parts of the world.
In Bhai Pheru, where the missionary is based, there’s a hostel for boys and one for girls and a school. Since one week I am staying here. Filming. To show people what is happening here. To translate my amazement about the situation in images – the Middle Ages, they still exist, really. To capture the love that Father Leopold gives and is. There are almost no words for it, there are maybe images for it. I try.
Love, when pure and true, seems to be endless. As well as gratitude. The children of the hostel are eating out of his hands, hanging at his clothes, his beard. They realize, some more consciously than others, that they have been given an uncommon chance to improve their and their family’s lives. Everyone passing by, or visited by Father Leopold -parents, babies, Christians and Muslims, dogs and their puppies- everyone knows that he is here to help them. Not to help himself. His life is a life devoted to the weak, the suppressed, the children, the poor. Everything is in function of them. When the electricity runs out (from 6 hours per day up to 24 hours) he gets angry and irritated. Because the water pump doesn’t work anymore. Not because he can’t take a shower, but because of the children being out of water, the people of the neighborhood being out of water. Luckily the hostel has a generator, but what should the normal people do? Without water, without power? He wonders sweating in his sleeveless shirt. One fan, attached to the battery, is still working. The temperature is around 40°C now in may in Pakistan.
I watch with big eyes. Never before have I seen so much gratitude all together, never before have I been so close to the misery of people, never before have I realized so strongly how lucky a Belgian is.
Every day someone passes by, from nearby or from far away, with a gift. The first milk of the cow that has just given birth. They don’t possess much more than that cow. They can’t afford the journey nor the gift. But still. The Christian brickers we visit offer us meat and cola and fruit. Meat! That’s a few days’ wage, they can’t afford that. And still. And that shows the sincerity of their gratitude. After having spent a week here I know that their gratitude is rectified.
I learn what being a Christian actually means. Giving love. That is all. No sermons, no empty prayers. But help, food, education, hugs and chances. That is all. That is really all.

awayfromnepal

the journey back home has started
slowly slowly
the content of the backpack has reduced
only the necessary things are left over
some clothes, some soap, a book, a towel
traveling forces one to give up belongings, favorite dresses, attachments
giving away things that are closest to you -so that it hurts a little bit :
the best way to feel light and free and happy to have nothing in particular

Amritsar the first stop on the way back
Amritsar, close to the border with Pakistan, known for its golden temple, holy place for Sikhs
from the Kumbh Mela to this place
only the kind of the religion is different
all the rest is there : the charity, devotion, the masses, the offerings, the merging of daily and holy life
a tiring experience but who cares being tired when home is coming closer?

From Amritsar it is 40 kms to the border with Pakistan
There a very strange event happens every evening at sunset
On both Pakistani and Indian sides there are tribunes for public
I was sitting on the Indian side
Last night, just like every night, there was a ceremony
celebrating and increasing nationalist feelings
First a whole bunch of Indian women (and a few tourists) stand in the middle
when the Bollywoodmusic starts they start to dance and laugh and have a party
The Pakistani`s are now only swaying their flags
India has more fun
India-Pakistan 1-0
After the party the real battle starts
A handful of guards throw their legs in the air and walk with their arms swinging dangerously back and forth
On the Pakistani side the same thing happens
A man with a microphone and running shoes runs around like an Indian with a microphone and running shoes and encourages people to clap their hands, shout and sing louder than the Pakistani`s
He puts the microphone in the mouth of a guard who starts to make a sound as long as his breath allows him to
after that the guard swings his leg over his head
the same roaring sound is heard on the other side when the Indian is already finished
So Pakistani`s have a longer breath (or they begin to roar later)
In any case, cheating or not: India-Pakistan 1-1
Now all the guards start to swing arms and legs again in the direction of the Pakistani side
The gates are violently thrown open from both sides
One guard from each country has the dangerous task to shake hands
They do
They shake arms and shoulders and heads, would be a more proper description of the shake
The public loves it
The man with the microphone shouts HINDUSTAN, the public shouts something back which I don`t understand because I don`t speak hindi
Pakistani`s also have a microphone and shout Jeera Jeera Pakistan in it
The gates close
One guard has some problems with the rope of the Indian flag
but no problem
What can go wrong
we are all having fun
My attention wanders away a bit in all the mixed feelings I`m having
and then the ceremony has ended
Pictures were taken, people laughed, shouted, had a great time
I couldn`t help but think of Gandhi`s biography and his life he devoted to teach people that differentiation is stupid, that divisions between casts, religions, colours, sexes is senseless
I could see the fun of it for a few seconds when those guards started to roar in the microphone
but the overall feeling was sadness
sitting on a tribune only for foreigners
next to that a tribune only for women
close to the guards some rows only for very important Indians
two tribunes for men
then two gates
one with India written on it
one with Pakistan
and on the other side
the same division
A sad, funny, childish happening that doesn`t hurt anyone of course
but only because Gandhi is already dead
he would`ve undertaken a fast in order to teach the people again and again that categorizing people only leads to suffering and violence
Especially here in Amritsar where thousands of people were killed in one day by a British officer in the months before the Partition happened
They were non-violently gathering during a protest against the British rule, just standing on a square
The officer ordered his men to open the fire
Just like that
That is what happened in Amritsar
not such a long time ago
A city with a beautiful golden temple and charitable sikhs
and a dark past

Back to the plan
The next stop will be Lahore
From there most probably a plane will be taken to Tehran
if I am granted a visa and if a plane is available
let`s see
Let`s first see Lahore
because planning two steps in advance has proven not to work
having an idea and following that idea without knowing how it will turn out
that has proven the best way of traveling

The current idea is a strong one and the only one : reaching home
hopefully in a few weeks
over land (mostly)
Pakistan, Iran, Turkey and then through Europe

You will hear from me soon

India strikes (again)

Life has played a trick on me
Not necessarily wanted to come to India
it was just on the way to Nepal...

Now
The outward journey
Is becoming an inward one
India shows its hidden powers
What is buried underneath the chaos, the sounds, the masses
Is a universal, endless knowledge
What is hidden behind the 1000 gods
Is one
What was a seed inside elsewhere
Is sprouting here
India knows
She doesn’t speak
Or at least not about what she knows
She only gently takes you by the hand
Without you realizing it
Gives you the experiences you need
Takes away the superfluous ones
Encourages seekers of truth
Doesn’t leave them empty-handed at the side of the road
She knows she has a lot to offer
Many fakes, one real one
Many cheaters, one saint
But she knows
That that is the way
Offering the wrong
In order to identify it, experience it, live it, taste it
Become sick
And be purified
And find the right
India knows more than one is able to grasp
Understanding not to understand
Traveling while not moving
Losing in order to find
Holding the breath in order to breathe
Diarrhea in order to become healthy and empty
Craving not to crave anymore

That is India’s teaching
That is India’s noble truth
In the form of mountains, rivers, saints and a very special woman

baba's at the Kumbh Mela

doubts

sri santosh puri ashram, 9th of april 2010

Being here for the second time
Unavoidably more intense
Just this and just that are not enough anymore
Why this and why that?
The answer is gone
So many feelings, experiences, sensations
But unable to label them
As if one bath filled with many things
Without distinction
What am I doing here?
What to learn? What to experience?
Is there maybe someone who can point out the direction?
A guide not needed
Just someone, or even one finger, to exclude some options
And to demand kindly but insistingly to go this way

And actually I know it
I know the answer
Doubt as an excuse to postpone the answer
And the answer is surrendering
Only that
Because that is what surrender is
Only that
A little bit of surrender doesn’t exist
Only that
So simple and so hard
To surrender oneself to the unknown
To let go
Of the control of the West, the past
Of opinions and thoughts
Of self-image and other image
Of heart and head
To let it be and to see with clearer sight her true nature
Fear

Even the words won’t help me this time
Even showing inability won’t work this time
Waste of time
In the best case an assist
A revelation of that which is necessary
And that is doing
Only that
Jumping
Just jumping
Closed eyes, closed ears, closed mouth, closed nose
-and therefore opener than ever-
And three times head down in the holy Ganga
Why holy?
No idea
Why three times?
No idea
Why head down?
Because head above is fear
Because head above is grasping on
Because head above doesn’t wet your hair

Why to bow?
Because bowing is surrendering, of body and mind
Surrendering to that what has always been present
In bower and non-bower
In giver and taker
In guru and disciple
Surrendering to the divine in each one
Simple
Om namo narayana
But still only words
Praying is a way to become enlightened
But what if the words sound hollow?
Right for the other, but not for me
Understood by the head, but not by the heart
What to do?
Being silent
Not wanting to become enlightened
Listening, being present
And then suddenly
A glimpse
Having given up the search, just breathed
And there is the normal miracle
Happiness, not more
Without thinking
Only that

The heart needs a bit more time
But once opened
It learns exponentially faster than the head
The heart doesn’t need to learn by heart
Doesn’t need to be convinced
It knows, directly

Darkness again
Thoughts, resistance, irritation of all that and who is in the vicinity
Being allergic to hollow words, hollow deeds
Seeing a baba, everyone at his feet
In a tent with glitters and airco
I can’t feel it, the respect
I see a man in a leather sofa, talking
No saint, no Jesus
Just a man with a beard of whom many pictures have been taken
But then there is the devotee
With simple words, simple gaze, no unnecessary action
“so how many are you, are you hungry?”
Getting food, without blame, without fuss
Normal
And then you feel something real
This I understand, says the heart
I understand, says the heart, that surrendering is nothing more than giving what you can
I understand that it is no special gift, no yogic art, no magic
Surrender is a bread that you give without counting the crumbs
Surrender is a smile that you give before you know it
Surrender is a gaze, without purpose or doubt
I understand, says the heart
And the head nods because it has understood that it is sometimes better to be quiet and it even starts to like it
I understand, says the heart, because it wasn’t finished yet,
That from today on I will give what I can, will say what I think, will act without expecting a reward, will listen to words and see through them the heart that is talking to me
I understand, says the heart, that that is now the task
And praying will come or not, bowing will follow or not, surrendering will be right or won’t be
The heart is quiet for a while, is not used to so many words
I am quiet too
Silence
And then I say, without anyone having to hear it, meaningless and much too late because the heart has yet decided : “I agree”

farewell to Laura

We left as two big girls
We will return as two women
Where to begin?
A letter that starts from the heart never begins with the beginning
That’s why : the end
Nepal, the trek
It is so beautiful to see you here in the mountains after 5 months of traveling together
In your eyes I see change compared with the start
I see your passions arising, your dreams becoming more defined, your ideas more clear
And what I know for sure, I just know
Is that you will reach the goal you want to reach
Without any doubt, without looking back
Maybe with a detour, a side road, a run-up, an obstacle on the road
But what is sure is that your goal whatever it may be
Is within your reach
What a power
There aren`t many people who can create there life in that way, according to their wishes
You possess a sort of power that attracts what you need in order to go forward
And that`s where you`re going
Forward
All the time forward
Even if sometimes it doesn`t seem so, it is

You have the quality to change
To observe yourself and draw conclusions out of it
To stay true to yourself
Sometimes at the cost of being on time
And of my patience
But that`s only my own problem
Having lost yourself to eventually
Find yourself
More pure, more real, more honest, more feminine
Back

Those are the things I have seen
And of which I take a little piece with me
Just because they`re beautiful and right

As if this trek is a concentrate of the whole trip
Everything is being lived so intensely
The lessons we learned the last months are being applied
The troubles we had with ourselves, in ourselves, with each other
Are being pured out and dissolved
The pleasure stays and increases

As if this trek is a resume
A necessary goal
Where nature, human, time, space, clouds, snow, silence, past, future, now come together and become one

To share that with someone is very powerful

In the beginning of the trip I`ve written down something, a wish
That we would help each other to grow
That wish has been heard

Thanks to our faith in life
In things and how they go
Thanks to our willingness to learn, to keep on changing, to search, research
Thanks to our ability to be flexible

We are traveling together
Soon it will be that we were traveling together
Each with her own mindset
Each with her own things to process
Each with her own goal
And it works, it works
It worked, it worked

Beyond the differences I`ve learned to see you
It is a lesson of every day
Adjusting the image you have
With each step
Not clinging to a moment, a word
But continuing
On your own rhythm
And still together
Leaving space for each others growth
And still together

To have the opportunity to be with someone on a turning point
In life and thoughts
In body and heart
Is very intimate
Very intense

We left as two big girls
We will return as two women
Thanks to each other
Thanks to you
Thanks, to you

broken english on an unexpected saturday

Haridwar, sri santosh puri ashram, saturday april 3rd

A usual day in the ashram. As far as one can speak about usual during the Kumbh Mela festival. The loudloudspeakers of the adjacent temple remember you of it every second. And more subtle, Kumbh Mela is being felt. Something hangs here. A constant movement, which you can call agitation when in a negative mood, in the good moments you feel the upward energy, the gathering of so many souls with the same goal : being together in peace around the holy ganga. So, a regular day in unusual circumstances.
A friend of the ashram came by to say hello, to talk a bit.
From far I heard him say that the Dalai Lama is in Haridwar. He says it in such an evident way that it almost passed my attention. Until I tell myself that I would love to meet him, had I forgotten maybe?
I finish the text I was writing and leave with three other people and one clue of where he could maybe be. The search can begin. For his Holiness the Dalai Lama.
On the first spot we are being sent to another place. That`s how searching goes.
Only Simone, Australian girl, joins me to the second link. From the rikshaw she sees a big poster with the head of the Dalai Lama. We stop the rikshaw and find the 3rd link.
It turns out to be the final one already.
We hear a man talking in a microphone. Not the Dalai Lama but maybe a supporting program?
We enter the tent and first see around a thousand other people and then the Dalai Lama, together with a handful of other highly respected Indian saints.
We find two seats in the front and sit down in awe. In awe because of the ease of the search.
That`s how it goes. Whenever you don`t expect anything to happen, it happens. Just like that. Not just like that, but with considerable greater ease than when expected.
Here we are. Listening to the Hindi of a saint which we don`t understand. Simone takes pictures to later look up which Indian celebrity she has taken pictures from.
Where are we actually?
At a presentation of the encyclopedia of Hinduism apparently.
Beautiful. The Dalai Lama presenting the encyclopedia of Hinduism.
A man runs, hops and laughs on stage accompanied by loud applause. It is Ram Dev. The Indian who brought yoga to the masses.
I start to have the feeling we ended up in a holy rockfestival. With idols of whom everyone wants to catch a glimpse.
Every culture its heroes.
We have the rockstars, they have the saints. That`s how the whole Kumbh Mela looks like, seen superficially and from the outside. As one big holy Woodstock. Encampments everywhere, billboards of saints, loudspeakers speaking loudly holy music.
Ram Dev talks. Everyone is hanging at his lips. The Dalai Lama is pulling his beard. Everybody laughs.
He must be talking about the roots of Hinduism, because every five words he says the word Sanskrit.
Then the Dalai Lama talks. In Tibetan he praises India and her non-violence. Compared to Hindi, the Tibetan language sounds so peaceful, almost meditative. Then he talks in English. In broken English, he apologizes himself.
The eyes of the Tibetan women-monks next to me are worth gold. The devotion, the love, the respect that shines in them is beautifully moving.
The Dalai Lama starts with saying that he is a son of India. He considers India as the guru, the Tibetans its disciples.
He praises Gandhi and the history of ahimsa, non-violence, in India.
He says that it is unseen, such an immense country with so many inhabitants, where so many religions are able to live together in relative peace without making life hard on each other.
He sees it as an example for the world. Then he gives some practical tips to attain peace of mind. Because peace of mind is good for the health. He emphasizes that he speaks beyond religion, that he`s bringing a secular message that anyone can understand and apply.
He says that peace of mind is attainable through being compassionate.
He advises to be compassionate in the morning and then to feel the result the whole day long.
He then also praises the chapati of India and the beard of Ram Dev. Nothing of what he said was unknown to me, but to hear the simple words from his mouth, feels like a privilege.
Having the ability to make people believe in and live in the simplest truth, is a great power. He has that ability because he doesn`t only say what he says, he also does it, you can hear that, you can see that, you know that.
He is not (only) a politician pleading for his case, wanting to increase his power.
He is a human being who understood that non-violence is the longest but the only right way to peace.
Just like Gandhi had understood that in head and heart and deeds and words.
I am happy to have seen and heard him.
In broken English, on an unexpected Saturday.

Kopan monastery - a thought

When a bird whistles, then he`s already whistling something else before the thought `a bird whistles` could`ve been formed in my mind
When I see a bird, then he has grown already before I could think `bird`
Words always –always- come too late
Not a single word has come to existence before the thing that it refers to
That`s why it is better just to see a bird than to think `bird`
Why it is better to experience the whistling of a bird than to think `a bird whistles`
It will be the most beautiful bird ever
The most beautiful whistle ever
One time I hope to be able to apply my own words
Until that day, I, too, will only see and here the limited bird

Annapurna round – a diary after the top

Muktinath to Jomsom

We are tired. But at least I slept well. Laura almost didn`t sleep. And then Babu appears to have decided to walk seven hours today. Long, tough day. A lot of wind. Really a lot of wind. We see the most beautiful landscapes, I take many pictures. But we are tired. It`s yesterday that has made us tired.
Jomsom is a place where you rather don`t want to arrive, certainly not when tired.
The guesthouse is not cosy and the woman unfriendly. A tough off-day.
What goes up…



Jomsom to Kalopani

The bodies are still tired. The minds are ok. Better than yesterday and we`re happy that Jomsom lies behind us. We eat lunch made by a transvestite who makes the best dal ever (dal is a typical Indian/Nepali dish made of lentils). We walk in a good rhythm. A good, normal day that ends in Kalopani that can be called a paradise after Jomsom. The warm shower is being welcomed, the food as well, the company as well. All is good. Long live all.




Kalopani to Tatopani

Kalopani was a heaven compared to Jomsom. Slept well, ate well (Yak cheese!) and did yoga in the morning with the Israelian girls we met on our first day.
Today we walked again around seven hours.
I discovered today what already exists since ages, what has always been under my and everybody`s nose, as if I have read a book that I`ve read a million times before without understanding, I had an age-old insight. I was in the now.
Nothing more or less. What a tremendous energy!
What a burden that suddenly disappeared. What a simple happiness. Afraid to lose it? Impossible, it`s always there. And it`s so simple.
A river only flows now, I hear her only now, the step I am taking is now the only step I am taking, worries about money, about Belgium, about future, they are not there now, because I am taking a step and then another step and then another step. Every moment the possibility of this insight. No way back.
Talking or not talking, doesn`t matter. I don`t have to be alone in the now.
I don`t mind sharing this.
What an energy that`s being released.
No effort in walking.
And getting there back? That`s possible at any moment. Just breathing and waiting and nothing else.
And listening.
The whole world is in this moment.
Only now.
All the rest has passed or has to come and I don`t have the least control of that.
The only thing I can do, I can do now.
And being happy is being happy.
Being sad is being sad.
Being tired is being tired.
Nothing more. Without blame. Without intention. Without a monkey on your back.
That is what truth is. Now.
All the rest is a little bit of a lie because passed or still to come. And who can control what has already happened, who can know exactly what there is to come? That`s why now is the only truth to which I want to live.
To which I want to act.
Acting is living in the now in concentrated form.

Tomorrow will be a tough day. For the moment (now) I am ok. Still 3 more days to go. We go.


Tatopani – a day off as a surprise

How clearly you begin to see signs when you open yourself to them. Life is full of them. We`re only sometimes too preoccupied to see them.
Yesterday night I went to ask for the key of a room where we could do yoga in the morning. Had to wait. A man started talking to me. It turned out to be the same man we passed twice yesterday on his motorbike. He was a westerner who wore a blue shirt and a tie. That`s why he drew my attention. Most westerners you see here wear a backpack and walking sticks. He appears to be engineer and is building a school here. Already for ten years.
He told me that we could impossibly leave Tatopani without going to the hotspring. Tomorrow early morning he would go there for meditation. We agree I would join him.
A nice meeting.
At 5.25 am I see the flashlight of the engineer and we head in the direction of the hotspring.. He gives me a sari that I can/have to/want to wear to go in the water. The hotspring should be good for aching muscles and the skin, the engineer tells me, whose name is Douglas from now.
It`s still dark, I close my eyes and try not to think about too much. It works for a few bright seconds. Eyes open and it`s light. Wonderful when that happens. Meditating on the edge of night and day. And above that in a natural hotspring. In the Himalaya`s.
After the hotspring, yoga. The idea arises to take a day off here. This spot begs for it. Again a very powerful place.
The yoga went so smoothly. The whole body more flexible than ever.
Laura gratefully accepts the rest-day-proposal
Douglas joins us for breakfast together with Bhuwan (the owner of the guesthouse) with whom we talk for hours on end. About traveling. He agreed that it is important to see the world to see things in a broader perspective. Although I start to wonder if that is really true. The more I learn, the more I see, the more incomplete it all appears to be. As if you chop some pieces out of a thick glacier to get a glimpse of what is underneath. But at the same time, because of the chopping,the ice you are standing looses its stability. Something like that…You lose more when you think you`ve won something. Only loosing isn`t always such a negative happening as we think.
A beautiful day. A rest day. The first day of spring (in the West). All is good. Long live all.
Douglas showed me the last version of the manuscript of the book he has been writing for over 23 years. `Time Travel Rabbit`. On the occasion of the telepathic relationship he had with his pet, a rabbit, that, after it died, appeared in his dreams to dictate him the book. About metaphysics, about traveling in time. A man to remember. Again. What kind of meetings on what kind of a travel…
The signs are just lying there to be seen.
The next morning we took a tired dip in the hotspring and started the tough 8-hour walk up to, apparently, the most beautiful view of the whole trek.




Tatopani to Gorepani

Up up up. No mercy. Only the weather was good. Enough clouds to keep the worst heat away. Eight hours up. We slept in `super view guesthouse`.A kind of dollhouse. The view was fog. Super. But anyway were we too tired too say more about it than `hm, ironic`, to nestle our feet again against the stove and half an hour later nestle our bodies in the dollhousebeds. Tomorrow to Poonhill. To see the sunrise above the Annapurna massif. Not alone apparently. And after that to begin the last day of the trek that would be a very tiring descent to Birektati.


Gorepani/Poonhill to Birektati

We get up at 5am. One hour up. Together with around 100 others with the same goal : seeing the sun rising above the mountains. Difficult to enjoy it with so many morningchatting people around. But still, took some pictures to look at them later alone and in peace.
After breakfast we descend, all the way to Birektati, the final village. We see many many people in the other direction. We are happy that`s not us.
It makes you realize how intelligent the mind is. It is focused on this day being the last one and a descending one. If we would have continued for five more days, then our mind and body would`ve saved some energy. But today all the energy can go out. No problem. And secretly we`re happy that it`s not us climbing up, but them.
Babu leads us to paradise. Green view guesthouse. With view on the river, delicious food, a terrace with the moon and stars above. I cry. For the whole trip. For every step, every misstep, every thought, every frustration, every relief, every shiver, every little pain, every mountain, every view, every insight, for every second I cry gratefully without any blame.
It`s over. 16 days of trekking. 14. Two resting days. The end of a long trek. The end of a long travel with Laura. The end of our ups and downs. The end of a search. Of a beautiful struggle, of a recognition.
The beginning of something new.
How many experiences can a human being have in a short period?
That many.




Taxi to Pokhara

The body is tired. As well as the mind. They can let everything go now. It`s over. Both have kept strong, have worked together to bring us to the end. Now it`s over. They know that and they act like that. I can only follow and let it happen. I can`t do more. Nor less. I sleep. Now.


Pokhara – not even an orange

In Pokhara., trekker- and touristparadise, in full tiredness of mind and body, sauntering between the stalls with 100% yakwoollen shawls and other things you buy, with aching calfs and muscles of the front of my feet which I wasn`t aware of before, realized to the fullest, between the masses of British, Germans, Israeli`s, seated on cosy terrasses, 100% western with asian touch,
that I am in need of nothing, but of absolutely positively nothing. Not even an orange.
Then I went to sit at the lake, where it wasn`t per se clean, but I didn`t mind. Then I went to the hotel because it got dark. Then I ordered a herbal tea and ate two digestive cookies, I read in the biography of Gandhi, went to sleep but couldn`t because of the heat and the mosquito. And still I was in need of absolutely nothing.
As if I had swallowed a mountain.
This morning I was nervous because of the beginning of something new, but underneath the nerves, underneath them are mountains now, lakes, creeks, moons and stars and silences that have always been there. And a new, old peace.

the next and almost final step

We`re in Kathmandu now.
And will go to the Buddhist Kopan Monastery for a few days, fleeing from the busy Thameldistrict in Kathmandu.
After that both of us will go back to India.
Laura takes a plane in Delhi on the 4th of april and Maaike will stay a few weeks longer in India before going home.

See you sooner than before.

annapurna round - what comes down comes down

On 17 march at 3.30 am we wake up in Thorung Pedi in a guesthouse packed with trekkers and bikers who would do the same as us that day, go to the Thorung Pass at 5416 meters.
At 4.30 we and our torches are ready to climb up. And that will appear to be true : climb up.
Still dark, further ahead some lights of early trekkers, behind us some lights of later trekkers.
Only the breathing of others and the ticking of walking sticks we hear.
And also something hanging at my backpack that has chosen this day to make very irritating ticking noises.
All irritates me, my torch gives up, already during the first few steps up I wonder how I will manage today.
But I call myself back, think `now,now,now` and concentrate on every step I`m taking at the moment.
That`s better.
Slowly it`s getting light.
The trek goes on. Upwards. Of course. We`re not there yet. It`s hard. Breathing is difficult and asks energy. The cold asks for my breathing and the bladdder for my attention.
A teahouse, a well-deserved very expensive gingertea in the first sunshine.
The irritation fades away and gratitude for the warm sun through the window takes its place.
Ok, time to go on. We climb. In the snow.
Where is my breath? Nothing to do but to stop as many minutes as I`ve been walking.
Continuously. For hours.
And then, finally, I see Laura`s arms waving at me from the top.
The body finds the energy to run the last meters. And less euphoric as I thought I would be, I reach the highest point of this trek. Thorung Pass, 5416 meters.
That`s how it`s going already the whole trek : You`re so focused on walking, that the thought `when will we arrive` slowly fades away. And at the moment when it has disappeared completely, you arrive.
But anyway, we did arrive and of course we are happy and moved.
A picture of the special moment is made.
Now nothing can go wrong anymore,only going down.
That`s what you think...
The cold made us leave the top quite fast.
So we started to descend.
And there it was. Relentless. The hammer on my head. Nothing to do even if I had wanted to do something.
Every stap a smash of the hammer.
Every five minutes five minutes rest. This would take us hours before arriving down.
The heart began to hammer also now.
Getting altitude sickness in descending, never heard of it before...
Resting against a rock. Would this ever end or would I die? Apparently one becomes a little dramatic during altitude sickness.
The rock made me feel sleepy. Babu, our guide and friend, firmly grabbed my wrist.
His worry fed mine.
We had to continue. The cold would undercool us.
Because it was cold.
Babu took my backpack. Laura in front.
Step by step we went down.
Cold, ice, slipping, getting up, slipping, icecold hands, the hammer relentlessly in head and heart.
Something told me that a body is strong enough to keep on going rather than to die as long as it has the choice.
So, keep on going.
Slipping, getting up, hammer, cold.
The weather beclouded. No sense of time.
Only sense of putting one foot in front of the other.
Laura had given me diamox after the rest against the rock.
To reassure me completely Babu said loud enough to Laura that that`s not a good idea, that only paracetamol helps in such a case, that diamox only helps when taken regularly.
Totally reassured we continued the long way down.
Poor Laura. After such a hard way up, now such a long way down only because there`s a hammer in my body.
Stone by stone. Step by step.
Holding still no option. Dying neither.
Continuing the only option left.
Nausea was there too. Squeezed stomach.
Why were we doing this again?
For pleasure?
Indeed.
I started to burp. A good sign, the stomach started to relax. Felt like eating something. Chocolate. Laura and Babu were possibly more relieved than I was.
It`s getting better, no?
Better. A little bit.
The chocolate remained in the stomach. The legs remained weak.
Still stone by stone.
No house ahead.
Only concentrated on the next step.
All other action superfluous.
After some six hours we reach a little guesthouse. I ask for a bed and get that, order food because I`m hungry.
It goes in and stays in.
Relief and pleasure.
Conquered the descent.
As well as the fear of death.
The next time I will climb a mountain, it won`t be such a high one anymore in the first place, and second I will fully realize and know that there are expressions that are true.That what goes up also must come down and that het venijn in het staartje zit.
After the food we continue. Still one hour and a half to go. To Muktinath, a perfect village surrounded by perfect mountains. A pilgrimage for Hindu`s and Bouddhists.
Babu then finds us the perfect guesthouse which` hot shower I won`t quickly forget (the first one in five days), neither as the bed and the sleep in that bed.

My gratitude is big. Possibly even bigger than when I wouldn`t have become sick.

And that`s how you learn that joy is even more enjoyable after suffering.
A lesson that we learned on this trek every day.


*

silence
mountain
5416 mtrs
Thorung Pass
breath
thank you


*

annapurna round - a top

annapurna round - thoughts

to enjoy is to experience the absence of pain that was there before

like when you first walk seven hours and sweat and climb
and then stop
and feel
how nice it is to sit on a chair
who could`ve thought that sitting on a chair could be so pleasant

or like travelling and arriving and leaving and attaching and detaching and moving and bying traintickets
and then to go home
and to feel how nicer it is to sit on a chair of home
than on any other chair
who could`ve thought that sitting on a chair of home could be so pleasant

*

craving for a craving to go, won`t lead to the end of that craving
an apple doesn`t eat an apple
the end of the craving will be the end of the craving
entered through the backdoor
or left
as you want

*

the word silence demonstrates how helplessly insufficient words can be
the word mountain as well
the word meter as well
the number 5416 as well
and then the word altitude sickness


*

the himalaya`s
drying your socks on a walking stick above a stove that burns on cow dung
the himalaya`s
the sound of the wind blowing in your bamboo walking stick
the himalaya`s
washing yourself with a bucket and a cup at minus zero degrees
the himalaya`s
Laura starting to see elephants in the back of horses
the himalaya`s
donkey traffic
the himalaya`s
getting altitude sickness while going down
the himalaya`s
Laura getting dressed to go to sleep
the himalaya`s
meditating in the dark, opening the eyes at sunrise

annapurna round - a conversation with a guide

-Babu, will we pass the lake?
-no, no, no pass lake
-so we won`t see the lake?
-yes, see the lake
-so, we will see the tilicho lake?
-no, no too far
-so we will not see it?
-yes
-ok

annapurna round - phase I

walking

the rythm
the necessary words
-rest?
-yes
then there is rest

thoughts arise
like thoughts do
you pass them by
as if you stand still while walking

the mountains are there
no need to look at them too long
as if you watch with closed eyes
as if you`re outside from the inside
-can you take my drinking bottle?
no,other side
-ok

the necessary words
you walk
you share
because you`re three
you know
still so many days
that`s why you walk
and why you stand still while walking

you walk
she walks
he walks
we
as if a conspiracy

-ok?
-ok
-how long?
-one hour
and that appears to be 30 minutes

you`re happy when you stop
you`re happy when you leave
in the end a tea is heaven

you walk
you pass a stretcher
with a man
without fingers

a few minutes before you were thinking
how lucky you are
with all your limbs

your life unrolls
you pass it by
your feet walk

you think of someone
you make a comparison
how she maybe walks the path with the least stones, the least holes
how you, next to it, on the same way, deliberately choose the side with the most obstacles
just
because that`s how you are
but you arrive in the same place

you walk
in nepal many mountain
your guide guides

the road sewed with stones and memories
with perspectives maybe too beautiful
you pass them by
you call yourself back
"now,now,now"

there you are again
there is the mountain
here the swollen ankle
you learn how to lose time

wether you know how late it is or not
it won`t get you there faster

-up?
-little up, then flat
slowly
your guide guides

even by stopping you don`t lose the rythm anymore

still more days ahead then you did
walking
forward

why?
for pleasure
to learn how to enjoy a tea again
warm socks, water when you`re thirsty

you pass porters
chips, backpacks, generators
that`s your fault
because you want to walk
they`re wearing flip-flops and 100 kilo
you hiking shoes and 6

but you walk
you pass them by
concentration
no space for namaste
only for the next step
the concentration of an animal

you pass them by
with guilt and respect
you try to become a better person
that`s why you walk
you can also stand still
but you walk
in order to
later, when you`re back where you once were
to live how you stood still while you were walking

you can do anything
without moving a finger
but sometimes you need to move them all
in order to know that that`s not necessary

sometimes you need to travel
in order to know that you don`t need to travel
because the mountains are everywhere
because the mountains are silent
because there are many mountain
not only in nepal
but everywhere

you walk
and you know
suddenly
certainly
in complete loneliness
that you`re never alone

sometimes standing still is the most forward we can go