Lady Dhamma

When I applied to do “service” at the 3-day Vipassana retreat last weekend I was under the mis-guided assumption that I would blissfully chop veggies between meditation sessions (such is the case in the US). But oh no, I was given this very special room:

Which means that instead of taking a vow of silence, I was the person that fielded the needs of participants (including one remarkably weepy pregnant woman) and got to woke up extra early (4am) to ring bells. But since I went there to remember the lessons of equanimity, I could hardly complain.

Then, as planned, I packed up my dhamma practice and moved it to the Le Meridien in New Delhi. Above all privileges experienced in this life, the one I cherish most is the ability to “pass” among an incredible range of communities. I’ve squatted on mud floor kitchens cooking chapatti over a wood burning stove with ladies in rural Kenya AND I have liberally indulged in the privileges of a guest at a 5 star hotel in Delhi. Let me be clear, I REALLY don’t fit-in either place but I “pass”. The irony of the fact that I was furiously brushing clinger ants off my backpack at the Bangalore airport and walked into the lobby of the Le Meridien with red monsoon mud creeping up the edges of my sandals, did NOT go unappreciated. That’s how I roll, I guess. Sometimes none of it seems real, like I’m only observing this round of life and other times I experience life so intensely my whole body buzzes.

So Lady Dhamma now spends her days laying in a soft white bed of fluff, watching DVD’s, ordering room service and lounging at the pool. Whatever, I’m allowed to take a short holiday from India! Check it out:

It is beyond swanky here. And let me tell you, there is an indescribable feeling looking down from the 16^th floor upon a city of 12 million people . . . from the john.

The whole center of this 20 story building is wide open, with a Charlie-and-the-Glass-Elevator styled machine that swooshes down a futuristic bee hive of rooms to the stylized mosaic floor of lobby. There are also glass walls of fresh lilies . . . and they play Tom and Jerry cartoons in all the elevator lobbies?!

And Mike, what about him? He’s doing this:

. . . attending a conference called Sigcomm. Thank you University of Washington for adding a little swank to our adventures in India. While serving ourselves to snacks at High Tea in the “Royal Club” Mike said to me (with the perfect pinch of sarcasm) “You know, sometimes I think we were meant to live like this”. Ah, how quickly one glares down that oh-so-slippery slope of believing one "deserves" all the amassed wealth. Thankfully India lies just at the edge of the lobby to keep the wide world in perspective.

Tomorrow we retreat to the spiritual mecca of India, Rishikesh. Ah, just saying that name makes my heart skip. Nothing but shanti, shanti on the banks of the great Mother Ganga (only the most holy river in India). Where whispers of past Sages are said to blow through the valley.

- S. Mangosteen

Loaded in Bangalore

Father Seahorse hates the term “Foodie” but really, is “gastronomist” or “food snob” any better? We is what we is, which is mildly obsessed with food! I discovered last week that Bangalore has it’s own Food Lovers magazine, whoot! This month was top 50 Foodie Picks and wouldn’t you know that F. Seahorse was devouring the magazine, talking ‘bout all the places we HAVE to eat and ‘shouldn’t we make a schedule?’ We thought we were really hot stuff when we could claim having already eaten at several of the top 50. It only makes sense to take advantage of the fact that we’re loaded when it comes to affording fine dining in Bangalore.

So this whole weekend was devoted to food. We cooked recipes from my new south Indian cookbooks (as fun as the Ladies Club was, all I really need is a good recipe and time to tinker in the kitchen). Coconut Fish Curry was an undocumented success and Egg Curry with Idly is featured below.

We also tried out some new restaurants around town and explored Russell Market, one of the oldest markets in Bangalore which has been described as “oozing old world charm”. It was oozing . . . mud between my toes. There was a pretty classic moment where I’m holding a soggy grocery list, barely beating off the torrential rains with a hot pink umbrella, listing out loud the items needed; “Cocum, fish, tomatoes . . .” and Mike says: “chicken feet?” Sure enough I look down and there’s a stray chicken foot lying in the muddy road. This was THAT kind of market!

Oh, and we made a stop at the “metal shop” to get an idly maker (for making those fermented, steamed rice flying saucers you see above)! Here is where I’ll admit that I’m a container nerd. Tiffin containers (those stackable metal lunch boxes) are irresistible as monkeys and mangosteens. Here’s a little Tiffin fantasy photo:

Random Tiffin Fact: 200,000 people daily in the city of Mumbai are delivered lunches in Tiffin carriers by the dabbawallahs of India!

. . . so ya, we got some metal containers for spice storage and fantasy picnics.

Taking advantage of being loaded, we used foodie weekend to score some fine silk Kashmir rugs! As you can see they are fine enough to rub your cheeks upon. There are some proverbial snakes in the grass when it comes to rug buying. But I think we can rest assured that our rugs are hand knotted with pure silk and will outlast us in years.

Yes, rugZZZ, I got suckered into the second one, it hypnotized me with it’s complexity. Can you imagine keeping the pattern for seven rugs in your head at once?!! That’s like knitting 7 different cable sweaters at the same time!

To counterbalance the weekend of lavishness I will spend next weekend doing dhamma service at the Vipassana center outside Bangalore. Then I will join Mike a 5 star hotel in Delhi. For real! Navigating the seas of international travel is complex! I will be without laptop for several weeks . . . experiencing more, talking less.

- S. Mangosteen

The Best Camera is the One That's With You

Chase Jarvis put out a book of photography last year that shares its title with this post, where every photo was taken with his iPhone. The idea being that it's not about the camera lens or the giga-pixels, it's about having the camera on you when you encounter the world. Of course, in Democratic India, you don't encounter the world, the world encounters YOU. Here are a few photos from my phone that give a glimpse of things you'll run into around Bangalore if you aren't careful.

Exhibit 1: Dog in a box. There are dogs everywhere in India. In Bangalore, they are pretty friendly and more likely to wag their tails at you than bite, and more likely still to just avoid and ignore you. These dogs can sleep anywhere. The middle of the sidewalk during rush hour, no problem. You often think they are dead, until they yawn, look around, and go back to being dead.

Exhibit 2: Enigmatic signs. If you've traveled in Asia, you're familiar with the usual Engrish signage. You see that here too, but this is something more subtle. For example, "More smiles per tonne of steel". The words make sense, the grammar is fine... but what does that mean? I imagine some poor overworked official keeping track of these things. Is there a cap and trade system?

Exhibit 3: Jesus with frickin' lasers attached to his frickin' heart. I stumbled across St Mary's Basilica one day. Turns out it is the oldest church in Bangalore, quite famous, and architecturally beautiful. It also has two life size posters of Lazer Jesus guarding the main entrance, and red neon lights framing the altar.

As Kristin likes to say, " In India, more is more."

- F. Seahorse

Incredible !ndia

Incredible !ndia is an initiative by the Indian government to promote tourism AND it's a wildly successful campaign. The advertisements are incredibly alluring, they make me want to see India and I'm already IN India. The far more amusing aspect to this campaign is the t.v. ads featuring famous movie stars telling locals that they shouldn't hassle or rip off tourists as we are good for the local economy :) While my examples of Incredible India are a little less glamorous than the campaign, they never the less remind me why this country is so surreal. Take for example this snake charmer sitting in the Hampi Bazaar . . .


And this girl making a kolam. In the south of India many families make a kolam or rangoli, an auspicious art of decorating courtyards and doorsteps. Kolams are often drawn with coarse rice flour as a food offering to the smallest of nature's creatures like ants and crows. Rice flour is also seen as an offering to Lakshmi, who has the power to attract prosperity and to prevent poverty from entering the home. I like to think of these impermanent works of art as a practice of non-attachment.


Just follow me this way to one of my favorite eating establishments in India. A short walk through a banana plantation and you reach The Mango Tree, with it's terraced floor seating that looks out over the river. With very little arm twisting Mike agreed to eat lunch here every day! A thali lunch on a banana leaf with a mango lassi . . . followed by an afternoon nap and swing-chair lounging in the guesthouse garden.

Here is a real gem, the Indian ice cream truck of Hampi. Mind you, we were biking in the rural countryside and this truck came screeching to a halt just in front of us . . . you know, in case we needed ice cream. And should we have purchased ice cream, every one of those boys would have had a hand in it's delivery, seriously. - S. Mangosteen

Hampi is for Lovers

There are a few places in India that remain mythical in my memory. Hampi is one of those places. Even when you're there you can't be entirely sure it exists. Coconut groves, banana plantations and lush paddies are interrupted only by massive granite boulders, millions of years in the sculpting. During the 15th century the area surrounding Hampi grew to one of the largest Hindu empires in Indian history. The hundreds of remaining temple ruins (several World Heritage sites) only add to the mythical aspect of Hampi.

It's really hard to capture the essence of Hampi in just a few photos and I know looking at photos of temples gets old faster than looking at endless temples in the blazing hot mid-day sun. This 50 meter temple below dominates the area and excitingly enough is covered in nymphs revealing their yonis! I promised to keep this blog PG-13 but like I said, it's India, so sex gets worked in where you least expect it. The carvings below are just a taste of what lies inside so many of these ancient remains.


Now before I loose you, check out this sweet elephant named Lakshmi!!! Indians sure know how to spice things up . . . I mean what tourist could pass up a temple with a resident elephant that hands out blessings? Stick a few rupees in Lakshmi's trunk (SHE prefers bananas) and your blessings are bestowed with a tap on the head by her whiskered trunk.



The last day in Hampi we decided to cover some serious ground on rented bicycles. My pink ride sported the name "Miss India" and had Shiva markings on the wheel. Not far out of town two brothers requested a lift to school (4 km away!) on the rear rack of our bikes. This was another soul shine moment for me. Peddling away in the lush Indian country side, chatting with a tri-lingual boy balanced on the back of my bike. We earned some serious street cred with the locals who saw us ride sharing.


- S. Mangosteen

Rambutans and Monkey Smiles

One day I’ll write a blog in the fashion of Indian style news reporting, where the headline is captivating and has little to do with the content of the article. But today I will title my blog entry in a manner that strictly reflects the content . . . right after I profess my undying love for mangosteens. So plentiful in the fruit stands of Sri Lanka, I sighed my way through a great number of those little fruits, bottomless in my desire to find my next fix. I love you mangosteen! However, one must broaden their tropical fruit horizons, so I allowed myself to be dazzled by rambutan! It’s a grander, spikier cousin to the lichi fruit. Its only failing is that instead of a smooth black pit, at its center lay something akin to an unblanched almond.

Triumphing over ruins and holy mountains were the smiles of the Sri Lankan people! Smiles that make your soul shiny! You’ve seen the bumper sticker: “What if the hokey pokey IS what it’s all about?” no way, SMILING is what it’s all about. A beautiful old man selling rambutans on the side of the road set my smile free. Since my arrival in Bangalore, I was unaware just how caged in hassle my smile had become. But just an hour after landing in the place-formerly-known-as-Ceylon, a beaming fruit vendor speaking in Sinhalese sweet talked my smile right out of its cage. I have no idea what he ACTUALLY said, but I bet it was something like this, “Look at you girl, the city has broken your spirit, look in my eyes, bob your head and let your heart shine!” Thank you Mr. Fruitman.

Oh, and the monkeys. They’re a little different in Sri Lanka too. They can be a bit dodgy when food is involved. Right before snapping this nursing baby shot a monkey ran over to a temple visitor and snatched her lotus flowers right out of her hands and began shoving them into its mouth.

This otha’ monkey apparently grew up watching Oreo commercials, cause he licked the pineapple frosting right off his biscuit before shoving it in his mouth. Yes, the whole purpose of this post was to shamelessly post more monkey photos. - S. Mangosteen

Sri Lankan Pilgrimage

Stop me if you've heard this one. An Italian, an Iranian, a Romanian and two Americans walk off a plane in Sri Lanka. They travel 10 hours in a van from Colombo to a small mountain village 150 km (93 miles) away named Dalhousie. They nap for 4 hours and start hiking at 2:30 am in the rain to climb Sri Pada, one of Buddhism's holy mountains.

Sri Pada (also called Adam's Peak) is sacred to three major religions due to a curious foot-print shaped depression on the peak. My favorite story is that it is the print of Adam's first step on earth after he was cast from the garden of Eden. During the pilgrimage season the path is lit, there are temples and shops and restaurants along the way, and there are mobs of pilgrims of all ages. Here is a picture of Sri Pada during the pilgrimage season.

Kristin's love for the outdoors was developed largely by the promise of whistle pops and other treats hidden away in her dad's backpack. I've learned the wisdom of his tricks, and suckered her into this trip with the photo above and the promise of earning some (much needed!) good karma by ringing the temple bell on the summit. I captured it on video.

And that is why people generally don't climb Sri Pada during the off season. We climbed a lot of stairs in a lot of cloud...

... with our pants tucked into our socks to keep out the leeches.

After that, we took a 6 hour bus ride to Kandy, hung out there for a few hours and watched a singing and dancing and drumming and fire walking show. Then a late evening 4 hour bus ride to a guest house near Sigiriya. I had forgotten that, given a sufficient lack of sleep, a person can sleep soundly for hours while sitting upright and bouncing along pot-holed Sri Lankan dirt roads. I would wake up only when a particularly large hole caused me to tip over and hit my head on the window. Even that only woke me up for a few seconds.

Sigiriya is a rock outcropping that has been occupied since the 5th century BC, first as a monastery and then as a palace. It is one of 7 UNESCO World Heritage sites in Sri Lanka, three of which we visited.

It took yet more walking to get to the top, but the view was incredible.

In the end, the story doesn't make for much of a joke. But it did make for a pretty good trip.

-F. Seahorse

Becoming a “complete woman”

All this and more has been promised at the Ladies Club of Bangalore! As it turns out I am highly advanced in Indian housewifery skills so a few “Finishing Classes” in north Indian cooking are all I need to become a complete woman. There are no classes offered in cooking south Indian food, that would be like offering lessons to Americans on how to make hamburgers and pancakes.

Shashi is wily woman. Imagine an Indian Julia Child style cook where she’s laughing and chopping as pots are bubbling over, all the while, grabbing ingredients from random locations like her purse pockets. Now, where Julia Child will take 12 pages of details on how to make a soufflé, Shashi will give you a recipe containing 4 steps . . . of a 15-step recipe, with 2/3 of the ingredients. You’ve got to watch her at every moment lest she sneak in an extra spice or double the recipe halfway through. I’ve spent hours trying to re-write the recipes in a fashion that makes the dish re-creatable by anyone. It’s been good practice to actually write a recipe. I have lofty goals to create a Thyme at the Table (my cooking business) blog to warehouse these recipes as well as my own so that anyone can have access to them.

From what I gather the basic goal of Indian curries is to bamboozle the senses. The same 10 spices are used in varying combinations with a few cashew nuts here and a bit of fresh coconut there. The guidelines include: More is More (there are few subtleties) and the more colorful the dish, the more appetizing (to the extend of making food hyper color by adding ground annatto seed)

I’ve also discovered that the Lady’s Club is a front for a retired women’s gambling club. There is a massive racket ball court (that clearly hasn’t been used in a decade) a tiny kitchen and the rest of the rooms are used exclusively for playing gin rummy . . . for money. Everyday at 1pm the rooms burst to life with carloads of women come to try their luck.

The cooking classes thus far have been wonderful and produced delicious results. I mean check out this photo of me making bread! I now know how to make paratha, naan (without a tandoor oven), roti and batura (all varieties of Indian flat breads). I can make tri-colored pulao, malai kofta and paneer butter masala! There is the unexpected bonus of inter-cultural/generational banter with other women. Topics range from: how much money you make, the importance of Vedic astrology, the key to a successful marriage, and where to purchase a steel spice box.

The crowning achievement of my Women’s Studies degree is surely that is has prepared me to graciously accept domesticity courses on becoming a “complete woman”.

- S. Mangosteen

OMG MTR WTF!

We figured the best way to ease your stomach back into Indian food after a bout of illness is to head straight for the 16 course meal at Mavalli Tiffin Rooms (MTR to the locals). Arguably the most famous eatery in Bangalore, it's been around since 1924. The Chief Minister of Karnataka has stood in the queue for food here. And queue there was; we jumped out of our rickshaw straight into a crowd of 50 people standing outside a very unassuming building.

The doors opened promptly at12:30 for lunch, we bought a meal ticket for two for $5.50, and were then led by nudges and nods through a labyrinth of rooms and anterooms until finally making it to one of many "dining rooms". Not to be confused with the "family rooms" or snack rooms. On the way we passed our lunch...

... in buckets. The meal started slowly with fresh pressed grape juice served in solid silver cups. And then, the pace picked up. The food is served by a small army of barefoot men wearing candy striped dress shirts and lungis (man skirts) that hurry from room to room ladling food out of the metal buckets onto your metal plate. Over the course of the next hour they sloshed onto our plates coconut chutney, carrot-ginger salad, eggplant-potato curry, coconut potato curry, dosa (for sopping up said curries), a deep-fried pepper, wheat porridge that tasted like orange spice gumdrops, spicy dahl and rice with raita (yogurt and onion sauce), white rice, sambar served with a dollop of ghee, lime pickle, halva, and curd rice. Here is a photo from early on, before we had to put down the camera to focus on eating.

You kind of had to keep up to make room on your plate for the next dish, though Kristin did skip one or two. The meal was finished off with a bowl of ice cream over mixed fruit and a handmade paan, which is betel nut and spices wrapped in a betel leaf which you chew to aid digestion. It was probably one of our favorite meals ever.

- F. Seahorse and S. Mangosteen