University of Soul

The Himalayan rain brings us all things. 

Quietude. Clarity. Inner contemplation. Surfacing confusion. Cleansing. 

It is much like the feeling of hearing thunder and anticipating lightning. Everything is in this tentative exciting balance. 

The baba's and the sadhu's on the streets with their fingers brandishing red powder in the general 

direction of your forehead. Some beg, some graciously accept 10 rupees in exchange for a small blessing. 

The cows. On your doorstep. On other people's doorsteps. In your way. In somebody elses's way. Their

wafting morning digestions decorating the walkways. Their freshly licked fur shining beneath shop lights in the

alleways. 

Motorbikes. Weaving between the cow excretion, the baba's, the cows and the tourists. Never failing to lightly bump into people as they move along; beeping all the while that they do so. 

Us. Somehow managing to sidestep all of the above, gleefully trotting on the uneven surfaces, miraculously avoiding cow shit, dodging a holy man's searching finger, a school kid asking for sweets, the motorbikes and scooters constantly on your tail. This is not a place to be oblivious. Awareness is practically forced upon you!

Rishikesh is like an International Yoga & Meditation College. Everyone is learning here. Everyone has their mindbodysoul sinking into some or other intriguing and enriching esoteric modality. I pursued Holsitic Massage incorporating Ayurvedic techniques and reflexology (acupressure). Other's pursued an exhausting array of yoga streams, meditation techniques, emotional body language talks, satsangs, you name it. 

The atmosphere of learning is unique and powerful and it feels a privelege to be immersed within it. It's a motivation to continue to learn, expand and fill life with those things that speak to the passionate parts of you, motivating you to pursue, to seek , to listen, to teach and to live. 

Thick Skin, Soft Hearts

The powerful yet soothing sound of the Ganga fills our ears as we look over her thick olive-turquoise mass. We laugh to ourselves (or each other) and indescribable smiles fill our faces. Rishikesh, you have a  splendour unmatched in spiritual hubbub-ness.

I've been in the North of India for the past week and a half and the difference to the South is stark, specifically in the desert state of Rajasthan. Mostly, there are no coconut palm trees or rice paddies and instead we are face to face with dust, cold and oddly twisted winter trees. Despite the slightly starker landscape, its been long enough on the 'road' to adjust to new landscapes relatively quickly.

Lauren and I flew indirectly to Jaipur via Mumbai, after taking a 14 hour bus ride from Kumily, Kerala to Bangalore, Karnataka (where we drove through Tamil Nadu for about 10 hours, so I can sneakily say I've been in 7 states up until this point). Two people make big difference in travel. Immediately decision making is a hell of a lot easier!

After spending an eye opening, people meeting few days in Jaipur, and a quick foray to the 'pilgrimage palace' of Lake Pushkar, we disappeared into the desert in Jaisalmer. We ended up sleeping inbetween the desert sand dunes of the Thar desert that night. But that's a story you'll have to ask for when we meet again :)

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It's a task. India. Coming from a place in which we think we know what a 'hard life' is. We have no idea. The sharp sharp contrasts from rich to poor are more evident than I would have expected. The age old caste system plays a part in shaping this. From Lassi and Chai Wallas, to Blacksmiths and Miniature Paint experts, theses are tasks that vary in terms of 'caste class'. This is definitely an anthropological expedition in itself.


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I'm happy to be in amongst the mountains and by Mama Ganga. Finally in a place for more than 5 (pach in Hindi) days! Being confronted with all this life-dom that India offers is exhausting both mentally and physically.Reflection time is paramount. This is no vacation, this is exploration, this is life.

Woops Slide here we go into India's everything

I'm sitting in an internet cafe on the main street of Fort Kochin, Kochin, Kerala, India. Humidity saturates my pores, my body is rushing from the Chana Masala dish I just scoffed down with Dan, Illana and Lauren in a tiny local 'restaurant' on the side of the road. My skin has a fine layer of dirt covering it, revealed only by the whiteness of my skin beneath my constant accumulation of shining bangles. India has crept into, over and around me and it has only just begun to weave its oddly alluring magic.

Kochin is a bustling city replete with fancy shopping malls, back alleys rich with Jewish, Jain, Hindu and Christian history etched into the buildings and the pavements and people's faces. It's difficult not to fall in love with the high coastline, the coconut palmtrees, the Indian smiles, the Indian stares, the auto-rickshaw drivers and our hosts at our homestay here in Fort Kochin.

We've been on insane journeys just to reach this very Southern state (with 99 percent literacy I'll have you know!). Down from Mumbai Lauren and I crept in a sleeper bus to reach Gokarna. Now Sleeper Bus in India actually means SLEEPER, where you get a double-sized mattress to lie upon and a bollywood film for your 12 hour drive. Once we reached Gokarna in Karnataka we were more than mildly distressed and exhausted, but as the sun began to creep up over the tropical coastline hills, our worries seemed to fall away. The water is WARM in Gokarna, never have I wanted to wallow so long in sea water and never have I felt so utterly safe!! (Despite the slight fear of the overly curious young Indian men who could only wade out a certain distance in the ocean and then gave up their curious chase as we swam away [these particular Indian men weren't very adpet swimmers]).

New years hit us in a strange and brief storm and after a couple more days on the beach we were ready to leave for Hampi. My newly cut hair wanting a new breeze to blow in!

So our first train experience, was well, an experience! We bought general standing tickets and managed to find ourselves utterly confused as to where we should actually be, so we found ourselves wedged between compartments, sitting on our backpacks right next to the train ablutions (wait for my insert on Indian toilets!) and the open doors letting the fast dusty breeze pass over us as we trained our way up to Madgoan, Goa for the night. One Night in Madgoan....is ALL you need. The Good Shepard hotel didn't offer much, except for creaky old beds, trippy, worryingly old fans, some very bright pictures of Jesus and a small store where we could buy water and fizzy cooldrink. Old Monk Indian Rum and some of that fizzy cooldrink helped make the place a better place to say, but I can't say it made waking up very easy the next day!

For about four days up until this point I had had water stuck in my ear. What an incredibliy detracting experience that was. I was in pain and partially deaf for most of the first few days of the new year. Once we had climbed on our train to Hospet (to get to Hampi), I had almost resigned myself to never hearing properly again. But due to our sheer luck and delightful incapability to find the right seats on the train, we landed up wedged between West Bengalians who happened to be med students. One kind soul showed me how to slowly insert an earbud and turn it to soak up the water in my ears.

POP. All of a sudden the world came rushing at me and I felt like I had returned from a parallel universe. Never have I been so grateful for the abilty to hear!

And so the train ride ensued and we ended up in Hospet. We took a local bus to Hampi and on first arrival we were immediatly confronted with the beautiful sight of the Vittala Temple. Once we had found a place to settle we took a walk around this temple. My first temple experience in India.

It left me speechless, dating back to the 13th century I could feel its ancientness creep up on me. 

The 11th Hour

Just a few more hours until I am up in the sky on my journey, taking all of the world with me in my footsteps. Trinkets adorn me and are safely tucked away in my backpacks.

On my wrists I have my mothers and my soul sisters, around my neck I have my blood sister in the shape of a feather, in my hair I have woven soul sisterhood and lifedom with colours and threads and beads and shells. Around my waste I wear a patterned belt, replete with sacred geometrical patterns. On my ankles I have more sisterhood and a macromey anklet that I happened to find in one of my homes two moons ago. I'm definitely taking myself with me :P

This morning my mother and I drew patterns in the sand. I bowed farewell to the ocean.

Last night my curly-haired sister and I delighted in the light of the full moon, did a small dance and prepared for the coming of the unexpected.

I'm as ready as I ever will be.  Yippeeeeee........here I go.................. :) 

The End, A Beginning and 7 days

I've just walked out of a movie theater  Fresh with awe and an odd sense of bliss. Often, the story that we tell people is far closer to the truth than that which others perceive to be the truth. The undulating and phosphorescent waves that brought 'The Life of Pi' to the big white screens, transfixed us all and is so exquisitely 'fitting' before my departure that words nigh evade me. Not to mention, of course, the fact that this monumentally transformed piece of literature came to greet our eyes on the day of the 21st December 2012, the End of the Mayan Calender; the end of an age, the powerful introduction of another.

This morning I performed a small ritual surrounded by fynbos, the morning spiders weaving their webs, sunlight scorching me through my silk dress. I said a prayer, I reached out to you my brothers and my sisters and I sent you love. I lit incense. I bowed to the mountains and Mama Gaia.

Rather strangely, on the day I had intended to set aside for quiet meditation, I was thrown into the waters of bureaucracy  Banking here. An injection there. Parking attendants everywhere. However everything flowed like a river of luscious cool water. My parking meter had a 'free' half an hour loaded onto it. As I left the parking spot, I spotted a bakkie laden with rainbow coloured flowers, I laughed and smiled and looked to my left to see that beautiful waiter in his white golf (he had served me a week ago and we had shared secret smiles of attraction). 'Synchronicity..' I giggled and off I went to see my 'integrative doctor'.

Vitamin B injections sting. But good Gods do I feel invincible as a result.

My sister, my dad and I then spent an interesting and profoundly special and relaxing afternoon in a Spa in the mountains of Stellenbosch. All we had sought was cool water to escape the 39 degree Celsius day and we waltzed lavishly (and sneakily) into a well air conditioned hide away where we pretended to be sophisticated in 'spa robes', ate the no-proteins-on-sight-ANYWHERE-lunch and drank the detoxifying juice (much to the disgust of my father's finally tuned pallet ;) [that's for you dad] ). We played in the water and drifted back to old memories of hours in the swimming pool outside when we were younger.

I found a jacaranda tree perfectly positioned on a small mound of grass and I was so delighted that I ran quickly up towards it and plonked myself down into a meditative position with great joy, while my father photographed my glee happily.

'I Choose Love', I kept on whispering throughout the day, 'I Choose Love'.

There are 7 DAYS left until I leave for my Journey and I almost feel ready. I actually hope I don't feel too ready. That would leave no room for surprises. And after all, those are the best moments of any journey.

I'm stocking up on ukulele songs and trying to figure out my G12 Canon Powershot. I'm liaising with Lauren my travel buddy and beautiful friend and saying goodbye to my dad and my family and my friends.

Right-O. This is the beginning. A beautiful sunny summer solstice awaiting all of our ideals to pour out into action :)

[To whoever reads these posts, thank you :) your eyes shifting over my words creates a beautiful silent kind of communication that can never be measured and isn't that a beautiful thing to treasure? Perhaps I'll dance with you soon :) ]

13 DAYS

13 DAYS until I depart.....I have been counting the moments, the hours and the goodbyes I've said to my soul family, blood family and the spaces I've been moving in over the past year. 

Perhaps its a tad dramatic (and horribly cliched) , but I feel like I'm about to find the gust of wind that is going to sweep beneath  my wings and propel me into flight. It's damn exciting, but simultaneously nerve wrecking. 

It's been a wild 2012 for everyone that I know( not excluding those that I don't! ) and it has sneakily prepared us for the coming beautiful storms of life. Or has it? We will see :) Won't we? It all seems to pan out exactly as it needs to.....I have to keep on telling myself that 'This Path is the Right Path and the Only Path' as I try to carefully choose my pieces and then realise the futility and begin to sink into the flow of being and doing exactly the things that feel 'right'. 

India feels right. The East calls me and has called so many others from this Southern Tip of the continent of Africa. I won't be surprised if I end up meeting more Africans than Indians on the paths I will take.....oh how deliciously excited I am and how delightfully unprepared I am for what is to come......alone....on the plane....alone.....in the sky......but inseparably linked to all of you beautiful souls that I love so dearly.......