This is Why...

Nearly two months in and I'm in as much bewilderment as the moment I stepped off the plane and sifted through a crowd of cab drivers to find the one who'd take me to my home stay.


Before flying here, I told myself this wasn't such a time for sincere spiritual reflection. It was a time to come and work my ass off, have a little fun if I could manage, and come home with some good recommendations and a bit of new knowledge from the foreign land. This has got to be the most potent lie I've told myself since the post-Mexico era.


This place has shaken me, in the best sense of the word.

First off, this is not Mexico. And the spirituality that Westerners wish to witness after meandering through a sea of rational-minded, psychologically degenerative philosophies, will find it pulsating through every step if they pay close enough attention.

And that's the greatest advice to anyone wishing to either travel or live abroad: Stay constantly mindful of what you pay attention to. Spirit or not.

Of course, personal cultural and intellectual background will play into the context... but that's a different tangent.


The spiritual endeavors began with my host-pops, who, in the midst of this pluralistic religious stomping ground, is extremely rational-minded. He buys books on modern interpretations of varying religious texts, philosophies on quantum physics, the nature of science, etc... and in the middle of rigorous studies he finds time to riddle me this and that.

The first:
"Starting with the letter B, what are the two places on this Earth where religion ceases to exist?"

Knowing a bit about my own spirituality, but not in a religious context (if that's possible) it took me some time before I could arrive at any plausible answer.

"Brothel!" I said, after a few minutes of contemplation.

One down, one to go...

My host-pops guided me through the next intellectual endeavor, covering topics of sacrifice and sex before arriving at the Blood Bank.

Sometimes it takes a few minutes relaxing in my room to realize to what creepy, extraordinary and intimate heights some of our talks escalate.

But that's just it. I've spent my whole life fiending for conversations that peel back layers with time, eventually arriving at a depth both parties never knew existed. And here, it happens all the time!

**Like the time my host-mom sat down with me while eating my dinner and said, "You know, I just think, women, they're better..." and giggled and walked away. It subtly changed my outlook on India. ('Nother post, If I wish).

All these instances, whether it's with interview subjects, my family or friends, they've allowed me to reflect on myself, exposing parts of me that I've subconsciously known existed, but never tapped into.

I have never had so much fun trying to grab onto the true spirit of the city and all of its lovely characters, knowing I never fully will. People here are human. There is nothing mechanistic about them, and that reflects on the city, just as all personal awareness reflects the objective, communal realm, and vice versa...


And through it all: The job and the professional contemplations that arise with it, the new sights and sounds, the FRIENDS and FUN, the freedom of independence--the feeling came rushing back.

This is exactly why I came. This is exactly why I love to travel. And I've known it all along. It's the same path I've been on since I sat on my empty porch after moving houses at age 7; the age I began to contemplate existential theory... Those first, "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" questions we all hear too often...


No matter the rice-based meals three times a day, or the garbage lining the streets laced in molden ash from gas pipes, or the 11 P.M. city shutdown, or the bucket of water I sometimes have to call a shower. What makes a place is the people--the ideas. All the rest are personal trials.



Real growth exists in the Self, but it's fun to change up the context from time to time...

Not looking forward to saying my "See you laters"... But I will never, ever forget.

I'm not in a dream, I'm in a book.