Happy Holidays from Africa

We want to take this opportunity to express our gratitude for family and friends. Love and best wishes to you all for a joyous Holiday Season.

(Click on the picture to enlarge it.)

The Toughest Month We Ever Loved

"The toughest month we ever loved,” to borrow from the Peace Corps slogan (“the toughest job you’ll ever love”). That was our month of November, which we spent at a 30-day meditation retreat at the Vipassana International Academy in Igatpuri, India (http://www.dhamma.org/). Vipassana is the meditation that was practiced and taught by the Buddha. It’s remarkably simple (focus your attention on the breath or on sensations on the body), very difficult (the mind doesn’t want to settle down and focus for long periods), and profoundly rewarding. The clarity, insights, and peace of mind we gained were incredible. It was a wonderful way to start our six-month journey and we were grateful for the time to be there.

During the retreat, a cyclone that blew in from the Indian Ocean grazed the area. Winds over 60 mph blew down about 100 trees at the meditation center. It was frightening at times, but fortunately, there was no serious damage and the retreat proceeded uninterrupted.

After the retreat we decided to spend two days in the town of Igatpuri to relax and get reacquainted after going through such a powerful meditation experience. It was a welcome breather before returning to the intensity of Mumbai. Igatpuri is a small but vibrant town about 80 miles from Mumbai. We took time to relax, eat good Indian food, get a haircut (Scott), and check out the various vendors, including one selling a Michael Jackson t-shirt.

We returned to the steamy, busy streets of downtown Bombay before flying to Kenya . The hectic street life and traffic were daunting after the peace and quiet we had enjoyed at the retreat. Nonetheless, Mumbai is a fascinating place, with all of the remarkable sights, sounds, and smells of India. New office buildings, fancy cars, and people in western garb are interspersed with women in saris, street people, decaying buildings, slums, and aging taxis and trucks.

The taxi driver who took us to the airport for our flight to Kenya doubled as a tour guide. He pointed out the various types of regional dress that identify where a woman is from and her position in life. For example, a woman who drapes the top part of her sari on her right shoulder is from the state of Gujurat, and a woman who drapes the sari on her left shoulder is from Maharashtra (Mumbai’s state). A woman with a salwar khamis (tunic and loose drawstring pants) is from Pakistan and dresses more modestly. The sari of a fisher woman is also of a particular style. With the westernization that has taken place in India, a man’s dress is no longer a reliable indicator of where he is from. As globalization takes hold, the loss of heritage and traditions is sad, although freedoms and opportunities probably go with it. (For more information on wrapping a sari, go to www.utsavsarees.com/saree/wearsari.htm.)

Next stop: Nairobi.