Sunday, May 31, 2009

Eid

11.09.08 Eid...the "Great Goat Sacrifice" (or slaughter). this is a festive time for Muslims. Eid. A time for feasting on mutton. I am in a Muslim neighborhood. The owner of the hotel and the majority of the shops here are Muslim. There is a mosque less than five hundred meters away from here and I hear the call to pray everyday beginning at five a.m. My hotel is four floors, my room is on the third, the building next door is two floors, it is on their rooftop, twenty feet away from my balcony that they have been accumulating goats for the past week. One, two, four, six and finally eight goats. Beautifully colored goats, tan and black, white, only males,. Often they get out of their pen and wander into the restaurant that is on the same rooftop and separated only by a bamboo wicker fence and gate to nibble on the plants, there are none on their side. Often I have to herd one or two back into their pen. Nice curious good looking animals. They look at me with curiosity as well. The owners of the restaurant are Muslim too, but the workers are all Hindu. I am a Dead Head and we all co-exist is harmony. I do however have a nice alter for Krsna in my room and bring fresh flowers and burn incense everyday. The workers who bring buckets of hot water to my room everyday for my shower appreciate this and have taken a liking to me. Plus, after three weeks I am the longest staying guest.
 
This morning my friend Mahesh comes to my room while I am doing yoga and says, "Huck, come look". As I am almost finished and only have to walk a few steps I say o.k. Not really wanting to, but for cultural reasons think I may as ell have a peek. There on the adjoining rooftop are gathered about twelve people, including babies in their fathers arms. On the ground is a goat with it's throat cut. A pool of blood and the goat is still twitching. I looked only for a split second but it was long enough to feel repulsed. In the end three goats had been killed (slaughtered or sacrificed). two lay on the ground in a big pool of blood and the other was strung up being butchered. It was a disturbing sight.
 
Why do they do this? I heard one story (from a Hindu) that once there was a kingdom that hadn't got any rain for so long the people were starving. The king was offering puja everyday to Allah praying for rain. Then Allah said to this king, "go fetch the most valuable thing in your kingdom and sacrifice it to me". The king searched and searched and the thing that was the most precious to the King was his only son. As the King was preparing to sacrifice his son, the all merciful Allah stopped him and said,  "Stop, I see how true your devotion is. Now the Rain will come.
 
Another story goes like this...."Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son" Abe says,    "Man, you must be puttin' me on". God say, "No." Abe say, "What ?" God say, "You can do what you want Abe, but the next time you see me comin' you better run".Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done ?" God says. "Out on Highway 61".
What  ever the story, the sight of the goat, twitching on the paved roof, blood gushing out it's throat is probably a sight that will haunt me for some time.
 
I am no scholar on Islam, but Eid is one of their biggest celebrations, but I am just wondering where in their holy book it says to slaughter a goat (or camel or buffalo or in some cases a horse) in the name of Allah. For this millions of goats die a violent death on this day. The Christians might not have a problem with this as their doctrine declares that "God gave us dominion over the animals". This is one of the primary reason I am not drawn to either of these religions.
 
Now, one might say it is just as cruel to hook a fish and leave it to die on the  deck of a boat gasping for air. I don't refute this. And for many years I have abstained from eating fish. When I dive with them in the ocean, these multi colored psychedelic looking creatures, the last thing I want to do shoot them with a spear. On some level this is an act of violence. Slicing a goats throat and letting it bleed slowly to death certainly is. This is why many times in my life, when people enquire as to what religion I am, I say Vegetarian. I am  not a Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jew or Buddhist. I am attracted to some aspects of each of these 'religions', but there is a part of me that feels that killing is just not right. That somehow or another, just maybe, there is a link between the killing of innocent animals and the killing of each other... and that poignant song of old comes to mind.......
   "Yes 'n how many deaths will it take till we know,,,,, that too many people have died...."

day 108

Day 108 on thsi very multi faceted journey,, about to embark upon a nine hundred fifty seven kilometer, eighteen hour train ride from Jamnagar back to Jaipur. I was planning on spending the new year on the coast in Dwarka, but unbeknowst to me, One hundred thousand Hindu's were converging on that spot for a seven day festival so wasn't a room to be had. I did spend Christmas day and night in this holy pilgrimage site, and got to watch the sun decend into the haze before it finally dipped into the haze that hovers above this country... The Haze, it blankets the whole country below the Himalayas. The haze, I borrow this term from the weather section of the newspaper where the forecast is never 'sunny' but 'hazy'. The Haze, nothing a kin to that famous strain developed some years ago. "This is India" an old traveling companion of mine loved to say with utter contemp and cynicysm as he was days until his departure. Wishing only that they had good 'haze' in this country,,, Travelling by train in India has a certain nostalgic feel to it. Certainly the coaches aren't new. The horn that blows constantly warning people and animals of the trains approach,, most of the roads that cross the tracks have gates which are still operated manually, by men who wave green flags as the trains pass. Thus far our coach is relatively empty, but this is rarely the case. On my last train ride, the woman next to me had facial hair, a funny boice, and many missing teeth. I couldn't tell if she was a man before and her partner, a woman who must have weighed more than three hundred pounds, had layers of fat buldfing out everywhere her sari didn't cover. And there was a man sitting beside her. Four of us, o na bench for three, I was squished by the window for three hours. Thinking if I had been tripping I owuld have fled. Now, after that harrowing experience, the complete opposite occurs,,, two hours into this trip, there are stil three of us in this berth, A young guy dressed smartly and a baba dressed in saffron, long white hair and beard, They are chatting away in Gujarati. We pull into a station and four boys rush into the berth excitedly, they have three large bags of food with them, complet with a metal tray, cups and real silverware. Also a blanket, which they give to the baba. They address them as Guruji, and when the train starts rolling less than five minutes later, they all touch his his feet and hhurry off the train. When the train is moving, this couple invites me to join them in the feast, nad I mean feast. The baba ensuring I get a proper serving, I offered them some chikus afterwards which they accepted. Neither of them speaks english,, at the next stop, an hour later, the scene was repeated except with two young children and their mothers, and a few men, They all know what coach and seat he was sitting in. Then then as thge train started rolling, they all ran to the windows outside to say their good-byes,,,and receive some final blessings. Both of these stops last less than five minures,. Now this, "is India!" India, where you experience Heaven and Hell, often in the same day. Where there is trash everywhere and whole avenues in modern cities reeek of sewage, and not only that, but the toilets in teh trains are just holes where you can see the tracks go by beneath,, and trains criss cross the whole country,,, India,,,. Where beautiful children live with their families on the sidewalds of busy intersections, barefoot and wearing only rags, so that they can beg from the buses and rickshaws that stop at the light, India, where traffec laws are te[;aced byu orns, where there is no such concept as 'waiting' in line, it is just a free for all, India, whre you will never get a straight answer on how much a rickshaw or taxi csts. Yes it is easy to get fed up in this country, until you meet some baba on the train who has nothing, and ends up feeding you one of the best meals you've had in the country,, India is a trip alright, I don't think there is anywhere else like it on Earth. If Thailand is called the land of smiles, India might as well be called the land of the Head Bobbing people,,, the way they move their heads from side to side like would to indicate an emphatic 'no', for the Indians, this could mean yes, sure, maybe, why not? maybe, as you like, I agree, ... it is not an easy expression to read or imitate, It is distinctly Indian

terrorists in Mumbai

"Terrorists strike  India"…"War in Mumbai"… "Terror uninterrupted", these have been the headlines in the papers the last two days. I have received e-mails wondering if I am o.k. One saying it is good I am not "five starring it". There was an article on the numerological significance of the local attack in India. To wit: there was an attack in Jaipir  on May 13, one in Ahmeddabad on July 26, one in Delhi, Sept. 13, and this one in Mumbai  Nov. 26..pointing out that the numbers 4 and 8 rule Saturn and the year 2008. 13 comes to 1+3=4 and 2+6=8. I don't know about all this. Am I in harm's way? Who can say, probably a lot safer on Maui., or even Pakistan for that matter.

 

Disasters are a sensitive issue, one can rarely predict nor prevent them from striking. Sure, one can live either in fear or in caution, the latter might being the prudent approach, but what of earthquakes and tsunamis? It has been noted that none of the tribal folks in Sri Lanka perished because they noticed the animals behaving strangely. Also, no animals were killed there either. Animals seem to have a sixth sense about such things. That said, this morning very early I was awakened by every dog in the neighborhood barking very loudly, very unusual, could this have been the prelude to an earthquake? It might have been wise of me to evacuate the building instead of laying there waiting and wondering. I did not.

 

I responded to one letter of concern stating that "our time comes when our time comes, that I am not putting myself in harms way like that of a soldier or reporter." While I do believe this, that our destiny lies in fates hand, and admit that I am influenced by eastern mystics who claim that death is a mere doorway, just another facet of life, there is a part of me that is very far  from being ready to step through that door. Especially if what many claim lie beyond is true, another birth. The prospect of doing this all over again, while perhaps inevitable, doesn't thrill me.    

 

It is easy to philosophize about such things from a distance, or to be numbed by the shocking news, so commonplace it is in the media today. Capturing peoples attention like so many other forms of entertainment. And in many cases such as this one, the terrorists use this to their advantage. In this case striking India at a time when the west would wake up to the news, thereby maximizing their impact across the globe.

 

Jaipur is on high alert today. Foreign nationals are warned to stay away from tourist attractions and be on guard. More security is being placed at bus stands and railway stations. Having little choice, I will weather the storm, go about my business. Although I will do a special puja, not only for the victims of the latest tragedy, but for those suffering all across the globe. I will try and set aside the endless chatter taking place within my mind regarding my insignificant plight, that of trying to travel and do business without the necessary funds, and focus on others who have it a lot worse off than I. There are hungry children in the streets of Jaipur, whom I usually ignore, due to the sheer numbers of them. Today, if nothing else, upon encountering them, I will offer a prayer when I run out of my daily allotment of rupees to give them. I realize this will do nothing to alleviate the pangs of hunger they may feel in their stomach, but maybe it will soften my heart a bit to their plight. 

Mosquito Wars

All is peaceful on the home front. A typical evening, laying in bed reading a book. When I see something flicker across my field of vision just above my glasses, A mosquito? Yes, silently and stealthily it had just sampled the taste of blood from my forehead. I respond quickly, but this little cousin of the vampire quickly vanishes into thin air. I like to think there is just one, and if I eliminate  it I can sleep through the night. But these buggers are sly, usually waiting until I am fast asleep to attack. And in the wee hours of the morning, long before the sun rises, they seem to be less concerned with the stealth factor. Either that or a full belly of fresh blood from a sleeping victim makes them lazy. But they are then no less quick, as I discover upon waking to the buzz of an attacker which seems to amplify as it invades my dream space. I turn the light on and prepare for battle, for there is no peaceful solution to this conflict.

 

They can suck my blood if they want to or really need to, I'll grant them that, but when they get greedy and insist upon waking me from a deep slumber, preventing me from receiving adequate rest after a long day of being a human. Well, one has to put their foot down somewhere, or arm oneself with a book, magazine, writing pad or often with just our bare hands.  For such a tiny creature to cause such a large disturbance is surely one of nature's great imbalances. The fact that mosquitoes are known to be the delivery systems for deadly diseases notwithstanding.

 

These desert mosquitoes are a tough breed, small, usually silent, and often unnoticed until the wound is inflicted, they seem immune to my usual mosquito defense system. This is a technique that involves offering them my bare forearm as bait. This white fleshly target bulging with veins is usually too hard to resist for most mosquitoes I have encountered. But these ones so quickly go into hiding after they are detected, waiting, however long it takes, till I am either back asleep or let my guard down. Then they return with a vengeance. Again my rest is disturbed by what sounds like a dive bomber flying right into the eardrum. And the battle ensues...


Yet again,  just laying peacefully in bed, reading by the dim light, I notice something fly by in very close proximity to my head. I get up, turn on the bright florescent and scour the environs. Almost invisible, the attacker lands on my arm. I poise to strike, but the bugger is so small the slight breeze created by my swift slap is enough to send him flying. He disappears again. I lay and wait, I notice that he has struck. Beside my forehead, a solid blow (or bite) to my forefinger, just above the large knuckle. And the tiny space on my back just above the waist that was exposed. Tired I give up the hunt, hoping he has had his fill. He hasn't, he comes back for more. Up again, light on, I wait, in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Out of nowhere he lands on my knee. Carefully I take aim, but an imperceptable quiver sends him flying off to obscurity. There is only one, and tonight he is the victor.


Where do they vanish too I wonder? I call it a battle because this is not the occasional bite, but a planned attack, pre-meditated on their part. They are a well trained militia, when one falls it is soon replaced by another familiar with the tactics, the territory, the optimum places of concealment. This is a small room, yet they manage to stay hidden until the time is right. Like when I sleep. Then, if there is any part of my body exposed, they feast. I say 'they', but it may be just one or two. Any more and I doubt they could conceal there whereabouts, their stronghold, so thoroughly.


How can one sleep while a foreign agent is penetrating the skin with it proboscus, drawing blood and leaving an irritating little bump? Once again I am awakened by a little blood sucking spawn of the devil. The light comes on and the battle begins. This is serious business. Praying to the gods offers no respite, and for this miniscule insect to be so successful at altering my sleep patterns is unaccetable. For lack of proper rest inhibits ones ability to function properly, affects ones mental state, and could quite possibly be knocking precious moments off the ticking clock that measures ones lifespan. It has become a question of survival.