Mumbai

No matter how much I think it will be different, Mumbai still beats the shit out of me. First time I holed up and cried and wouldn't leave my room for two days. Second time, I just flew into Cochin instead. This time I thought I could take it. I was wrong.
I'm primarily overtaken by the sensory overload.
First and foremost there is a constant acrid smell. I was walking by the ritziest hotel in Mumbai and I'm overtaken by the smell of raw sewage. I'm in my hotel room and the acrid scent of burning trash wafts into my window and it's relentless. We go to a rooftop restaurant to "get away" from it all, but the smells rise and the gasoline and diesel is particularly strong. It literally hurts to breathe.
Then there is the constant presence of noise horns constantly honking. Engines rumbling. At night the black crows caw without stop.
Then there are all the humans. So many of them. The men stare for unusually long periods of time. And there are so many men! I welcome the occasional and friendly gaze of a woman.

And there is the constant presence of want. Desperate want! Relentless and desperate need.
Then...of course...there is me with all the stories in my head. The narratives that exacerbate each decision I make. Each look has meaning that I'm inventing.
My body hurts too, because I'm stiff and out of shape and I'm climbing steps and lugging backpacks and walking a lot. And the emotional stress of it all is complicating it even further.
Then there is the JET LAG. Exhausted in the day and waking up at 3 AM, wide awake..
And just when I think I've had enough and I'm ready to leave this horrifying place...

India happens. The refreshing exuberant nature of Indian people.

We decided to take the ferry out to Elephanta Island, which is just off the coast of Mumbai. It is very cool with amazing and ancient sculptures built into ancient caves. But the trip itself is even more refreshing and amazing. Floating across the ocean,  the air is "almost" fresh. While we are on the ferry, we meet Indians on vacation. Their joy and enthusiasm is delightful and unique. Truly unlike anything I have ever come across in the US. They ask us the familiar, "Where from?"  And the flood gate of questions, selfies, introductions suddenly opens.  I meet a family from Hyderabad that wants to teach me Bollywood dance moves. And I say yes, so there I am, the fat American, wagging her hips to the joy of my instructors . Then I meet two Muslim girls who speak impeccable English and the conversation ends with "We are friends now?" And, of course, a selfie. And I suddenly feel as if I have found the answer to world peace.

The absence of  boundaries is refreshing and exotic to me, just like my being an American seems exotic to them. It's all very ironic I guess.

Finally, the excitement dissipates with my inability to speak any Hindi other than what is your name and I settle in to watching the excited and innocent joy of laughter, dancing and feeding the flock of seagulls that fly alongside the boat and I realize at last I have arrived in Mumbai.

Thai Massage

One of the hardships of being a massage therapist and receiving massages is the difficulty of finding a great therapist. There is a big difference between intentional touch and "just being rubbed", as one of my massage friends likes to say. I'm constantly trying to improve my touch awareness. And trying to feel how the muscle, the body and the energy responds to touch.
Practicing intentional touch in my own work, makes me acutely aware of how it feels to have someone not adjust pressure or just endlessly bump over a knot in a muscle.
I've received a good share of "being rubbed" here in Asia, and in the US. Since Thai massage is very common, (there were literally rows of massage studios on every street we visited) it was not unusual to see a therapist giving a massage while chatting on her phone or talking to another therapist. My tact is usually to selfishly send John first and get a review from him.
After receiving an awesome Thai massage from Sae at Friends Massage, in Chiang Mai, we decided to take a three day class. We did our research and found a reputable, well reviewed school called, Sabai De Ka.
Our teacher, Na, was delightful and abundant with both humor and knowledge about her craft. The first thing she did was apologize for her English, which I assured her was 99.9% better than my Thai.
Thai massage is performed over loose clothing and involves a lot more stretches and compressions rather than the long strokes of the Swedish technique. It has been used for centuries and was originally taught in the temples. There is no oil used other than the occasional salve for a tight muscle.
The course covered all the techniques for a full Thai Massage adapted for a table, since traditionally it is done on a mat on the floor. But we wanted to be able to integrate it with our other types of massage, so we opted for the table course.
I really like how Thai massage encourages the therapist to use her whole body to improve stretches. It's not unusual to use a foot for better leverage for a stretch. Since it uses a lot of stretches, a therapist needs to listen to the body and the client to make sure the stretch is just right. The wonderful massage I received from Sae, at Friends Massage, used experienced intuitive touch to not overstretch my wonky shoulders. Even with a huge language barrier, she was able to feel when a stretch was a little too intense and she easily adapted.
Our teacher, Na, also had to be intuitive about our techniques, constantly helping us to adapt and change for our clients.  A phrase that I heard regularly was, "You no flexible. You go like this" and then she would teach us some adaptation to the technique.
Thai massage involves lots of repetition, so we were taught to use 10-30 repetitions of a particular move. Of course, we had limited time, so sometimes when we worked on each other, we would shorten the repetitions considerably, which was typically accompanied with my favorite line of all time, "Mr. JOHN, your wife have great body, you no cheat her!" I can assure you that John will be hearing that phrase for a long time to come!
All together, we learned enough techniques to give a 4 hour Thai massage. We obviously have many hours of practice ahead to master these new techniques, but we are both excited about integrating lots of these techniques into our practice and offering our most authentic Thai Massage when we return home.

Did I Mention I Saw A Tiger?

I've visited India four times. Each time I am most excited about the exotic wildlife. Monkeys abound. Camels and elephants seem to be part of everyday life. Whenever we go on safaris, we are told. Don't count on seeing a tiger. So when we went to Periyar National Park I accepted it. When we went to Wyanad, I  accepted it.
This year, I decided that we would go to Gujarat and try to see the Asiatic lions there at Gir National Park. I was tired of accepting not seeing a tiger.
Well, plans changed and we ended up going to Ranthambore National Park near Jaipur. 
Planning trips in India is tricky. The tips on seeing wildlife abound and they are always accompanied with the caveat, "Don't count on seeing a tiger". One of the tips was to get your park pass in advance because the lines are super long. They were accompanied with stories of folks queuing up at 5 and 6 AM. The more I read, the more overwhelmed I got. As luck would have it, getting overwhelmed dissuaded me from going through the online process (which was equally discouraging). I just figured I would wing it. I probably wasn't going to see a tiger anyway, right?
When we made our reservations for Ranthambore, I pondered whether to stay at the considerably more expensive "tiger safari resorts" which mentioned their proximity to the park, their ability to book jeeps and canters for safaris and their luxurious rooms. But, as luck would have it, I decided to save some cash and stay at the Hotel Aditya, advertised as the best "budget" hotel in Ranthambore.
Once we arrived, I asked Shawn, our host, if he could arrange a couple tiger safaris for us. I figured, we might have more luck if we went twice. But, upon arriving and realizing that the only interesting thing about Ranthambore was tiger safaris, I decided to cancel one of  the trips and leave a day early, because I probably wasn't going to see a tiger anyway.
When I asked Shawn what time of day it was best to see a tiger, he  suggested afternoon, which surprised me because I felt like I had read that mornings were better. But I took Shawn's advice, since I probably wouldn't see a tiger anyway. Shawn told me the price for the jeep safari, which was 3500 rupees per person, which is pretty steep in India. (we were paying 950 for our hotel room). It's about $45 per person. But after some grappling in my head about how I'm probably not going to see a tiger anyway, I decided to splurge on the unlikely chance that, maybe, I would see one.
Another guest at the Hotel, Neil, from Australia, was equally interested and decided to join us. We chatted together for a while and concurred that we probably wouldn't see a tiger anyway.
The next day, our jeep arrived. And, as luck would have it, the other passengers were an Italian couple and their personal and experienced Indian guide, who also happened to speak excellent English and happened to know that zone 10 was THE ZONE for tiger sightings  this year. As luck would have it, T42, was hanging around that zone ever since (according to Shawn) his mate was poisoned by the natives and T42 refused to leave for days as he mourned over her body. The narrative was moving, but we all agreed that it was unlikely that we would see him.
It was a long day of everyone carefully scanning the woods. The guides suggested that we not stop to look at deer or other wildlife until the ride back to increase the opportunities to see a tiger, to which we all heartily agreed.
The ride seemed endless. At one point we stopped and observed a tiger feeding ground. We could see old bones of deer and other animals that had been eaten months earlier. We saw tiger paw prints on the road. These things are an exciting reminder that the tigers are there...even though we probably wouldn't see one. There was a ridge around the feeding ground that we almost drove along, but I think our guides were reluctant to risk it since it would be a precarious fall if he veered too far left or right.
The sun was just starting to set and it looked like our day had ended. I accepted our fate and acknowledged it was worth a try.
Suddenly another guide was waving to us. He was up on the ridge. Although, I couldn't understand his words, his eyes and arms screamed tiger. In seconds we were braving the ridge and there he was, T42. He was huge. He was so regal, just napping in the shade. We were climbing all over the jeep trying to get a different angle as the others jockied for a view. T42 looked right at us. He yawned. He stood up and stretched. He was completely indifferent to our presence. Our guide pointed out his kill from earlier that day. He was full of food and napping off his full stomach. It was even exciting to watch him take a dump. His coat was shiny and he had none of the qualities I have seen in caged tigers. This was his realm, we were guests in his house.
Within minutes, five jeeps were lined up behind us, yelling for us to move and give them a view. I was  selfishly grateful for our guide's insistence on lingering
We finally gave up our spot for the others, but I selfishly wished I could have stayed all evening watching him. It was such an honor and a privilege. The drive home was rich with jubilation. To think that I even wondered about spending $50 on such an amazing experience. Every 10 minutes or so, one of us would say, "We saw a tiger!" And then an animated conversation about it.

Did I mention that I saw a tiger?

I've visited India four times. Each time I am most excited about the exotic wildlife. Monkeys abound. Camels and elephants seem to be part of everyday life. Whenever we go on safaris, we are told. Don't count on seeing a tiger. So when we went to Periyar National Park I accepted it. When we went to Wyanad, I  accepted it.
This year, I decided that we would go to Gujarat and try to see the Asiatic lions there at Gir National Park. I was tired of accepting not seeing a tiger.
Well, plans changed and we ended up going to Ranthambore National Park near Jaipur. 
Planning trips in India is tricky. The tips on seeing wildlife abound and they are always accompanied with the caveat, "Don't count on seeing a tiger". One of the tips was to get your park pass in advance because the lines are super long. They were accompanied with stories of folks queuing up at 5 and 6 AM. The more I read, the more overwhelmed I got. As luck would have it, getting overwhelmed dissuaded me from going through the online process (which was equally discouraging). I just figured I would wing it. I probably wasn't going to see a tiger anyway, right?
When we made our reservations for Ranthambore, I pondered whether to stay at the considerably more expensive "tiger safari resorts" which mentioned their proximity to the park, their ability to book jeeps and canters for safaris and their luxurious rooms. But, as luck would have it, I decided to save some cash and stay at the Hotel Aditya, advertised as the best "budget" hotel in Ranthambore.
Once we arrived, I asked Shawn, our host, if he could arrange a couple tiger safaris for us. I figured, we might have more luck if we went twice. But, upon arriving and realizing that the only interesting thing about Ranthambore was tiger safaris, I decided to cancel one of  the trips and leave a day early, because I probably wasn't going to see a tiger anyway.
When I asked Shawn what time of day it was best to see a tiger, he  suggested afternoon, which surprised me because I felt like I had read that mornings were better. But I took Shawn's advice, since I probably wouldn't see a tiger anyway. Shawn told me the price for the jeep safari, which was 3500 rupees per person, which is pretty steep in India. (we were paying 950 for our hotel room). It's about $45 per person. But After some grappling in my head about how I'm probably not going to see a tiger anyway, I decided to splurge on the unlikely chance that, maybe, I would see one.
Another guest at the Hotel, Neil, from Australia, was equally interested and decided to join  us. We chatted together for  while and concurred that we probably wouldn't see a tiger anyway.
The next day, our jeep arrived. And, as luck would have it, the other passengers were an Italian couple and their personal and experienced Indian guide, who also happened to speak excellent English and happened to know that zone 10 was THE ZONE for tiger sightings  this year. As luck would have it, T42, was hanging around that zone ever since (according to Shawn) his mate was poisoned by the natives and T42 refused to leave for days as he mourned over her body. The narrative was moving, but we all agreed that it was unlikely that we would see him.
It was a long day of everyone carefully scanning the woods. The guides suggested that we not stop to look at deer or other wildlife until the ride back to increase the opportunities to see a tiger, to which we all heartily agreed.
The ride seemed endless. At one point we stopped and observed a tiger feeding ground. We could see old bones of deer and other animals that had been eaten months earlier. There was a ridge around the feeding ground that we almost drove along, but I think our guides were reluctant to risk since it would be a precarious fall if he ever too far left or right.
The sun was just starting to set and it looked like our day had ended. I accepted our fate and acknowledged it was worth a try.
Suddenly another guide was waving to us. He was up on the ridge. Although, I couldn't understand his words, his eyes and arms spoke volumes. In seconds we were braving the ridge and there he was, T42. He was huge. He was so regal, just napping in the shade. Within minutes, five jeeps were lined up behind us, yelling for us to move and give them a view. I was  selfishly grateful for our guide's insistence on lingering. We were climbing all over the jeep trying to get a different angle as the others jockied for a view. T42 looked right at us. He yawned. He stood up and stretched. He was completely indifferent to our presence. Our guide pointed out his kill from earlier that day. He was full of food and napping off his full stomach. It was even exciting to watch him take a dump.
We finally gave up our spot for the others, but I selfishly wished I could have stayed all evening watching him. It was such an honor and a privilege. The drive home was rich with jubilation. Every 10 minutes or so, one of us would say, "We saw a tiger!" And then an animated conversation about it.