Next!

So there I was, in Paharganj, Delhi, in all it's filth, sleaze, junkie, tout infested glory, having just bitten into my last Indian delicacy. I'd had my eye on this sickly sweet ,deep fried goodness ever since day one. I hadn't dared try one in all these months, intimidated by the shameless indulgence it

represented (!), but with only hours left of my Indian odyssey, I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by. Bite number one and I was floating. I thought some genius had come up with liquid bliss and I'd just taken a shot of it in the arm - the sugar rush was that intense. Seconds later, I came crashing down. The litle bliss bomb had given me an instant headache and in the seconds that I stood there spinning and regaining my composure (ah sugar - how I love thee), a series of things happened:
A green eyed, leering tout started up the familiar conversation (with my breasts) "hey sweetie, where you from?", a cow that I'd failed to notice in my stupor was suddenly drooling snot inches from my face with a keen eye on the sweet jalebi in my hand, and just as I was stepping out of the way to avoid its slobbery kiss, a raving homeless teenager came storming out of nowhere, yelling towards me in hindi, snatched the jalebi from my hand and walked away eating it!
I laughed, my heart swelled with joy and tears sprang from deep within. I looked over at my green eyed friend and blurted,
"I love India!"
"Ok yeah. You come into my shop?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And that's how I said goodbye to India.
A month earlier, things were very different. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
Rajasthan and the oppressive heat had taken its toll and I found myself roaming the streets of beautiful Pushkar weary and somewhat jaded. Everything I had initially loved about India, its chaos and head wobbles, the quirky Hindu ways that had been so charming had become, well, infuriating. Warm invitations to chai were now awkward and annoying and my patience with the sleaze factor had dwindled down to almost nothing. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep up the light hearted and compassionate tolerance levels of the previous months. I had become homesick for my homies. My girlfriends in particular. I craved that uplifting, love induced empowerment that a good old girlie session always provides. I was stifled and weakened by the overbearing male dominance of northern India and angered by the invisibility of my Indian sisters. Most importantly, however, I was becoming angry at myself for allowing my heart to grow hard, where once it had been an open door, it was now barely ajar.
So it was that I found myself pondering my emotional state, lying damp from my own sweat and staring up at the ceiling fan. I think hours passed.
Not good enough thought I.
Action had to be taken.
So I donned my sandals and hotfooted it to town and booked myself on the earliest flight I could get to....
N - never
E - ending
P - peace
A - and
L - love.
And from there the Indian tale ends and a new one begins, but before I begin to share with you the adventures of this next chapter, some thanks need to be given.
I've been away from India for about 2 months now and it feels like a film watched long ago, yet the mark it has left, well I can only hope, will be with me forever.
So, in light of said analogy, it's with joy in my heart that I, the writer/director/producer of the movie that is my life, do loudly and lovingly give thanks to all the players who made India the journey and experience that it was. ROLL CREDITS!!!!

In order of appearance:

Sunil

For my first taste of Indian hospitality
The Street Vendors

For the best street food in India.
Mother Teresa

For your guidance and protection.

Vikram and the Gang

For lessons in charity-and cricket!

Greg and Hedwig

For sharing the Dhamma

Everyone at FPMT

For silence,amazing food and cozy rooms

Lama Zopa Rinpoche

For his vision in sharing the Dhamma

with the west of us.

Raju

For yoga bootcamp and good laughs

Baby Goat in Red Cardigan

For dancing by the Ganges

Divya & Co.

For sweet serendipity and taking me to the theatre
Swami at Bob Marley Cafe

For super chilled out hospitality - a God send!

Eyal

For funny adventures and making me laugh you bad mother you!

Tom

There aren't enough words in the universe. xx

Aviram and Yorit

For showing me with your actions that the dream can be made real.

Sadhana Forest Folks

For your love-filled, transformational, fun loving energy - You Rock!!!

Chen and Yaniv

For (another) new beginning

Nithi & Sanjay

For the oasis

Manju and the Maaya Folks

For sharing your lives with me.

The amazing costumes.

The literature.

The space.

Sumit

For taking me back, one breath at a time :)

Abhi

For teaching me the lesson I needed

Yamini

For showing me the divinity of dance

Mario

For reminding me of lessons already learned!

Gale

For girlie chats and bubbles!

Om

For your sincerity, hugs and stories of Amma.

Ashok

For beautiful jewellery and keeping me cool in the blistering heat.

The Camel Safari Men

For your desert songs.

Baba

For being the straw that broke the camel's back.

The Sisters

For your beauty, curiosity, perseverance, mother natures, spirited defiance.

and finally,

The Land

For smacking me in the face,

Giving me a shake,

Tickling my toes and

Screaming in my ears

'Wake up wake up wake up!'

Yours in love
Barb xx

Chennai to Bangalore

Will there ever be a time when I can look at a blank screen/page and not be overwhelmed by where and how to begin? What to tell and what to omit? What to save for teatime stories on the couch? A singing nun once said, "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start". It wouldn't be the first time I took advice from a nun, so here goes...

FROM CHENNAI TO MUMBAI - A PICTORIAL SUMMARY FOR
MY (STILL) SUPER BUSY FAMILY AND FRIENDS.

Ouch, mama that hurts!

This man is piercing my nose. It was as painful and awkward as it looks.
The best thing about Chennai was that it introduced me to the warmth and smiling faces of the people of South India. What a difference from the intensity of Varanasi and Delhi - and a much welcome relief. I got out of the noise and traffic pretty quickly and on the advice of a friend (thanks Brig!), I made my way to Mammalapuram, a beach town 2 hours south of Chennai. I meant to stay a couple of days but
stayed almost a week. It was super chilled and I was made to feel so at home by the lovely Swami at Bob Marley Cafe. He took me in and introduced me to all the gang there. His hospitality and sincerity was truly supreme. While there, Tom, Eyal, Ori and I headed out for the day on two wheels to take in some of the lush green scenery. It was an introduction to dodgy Indian bikes, but no worries, there's always someone handy to fix it when you breakdown in the middle of nowhere. Ram was our man that day. He got that chain secured in no time and we were on our way.

Next stop: Sadhana Forest You know how sometimes it's those spontaneous nights out on the town that turn out to be the most fun? Well Sadhana was like that. When Tom told me about Sadhana the decision was instant. I knew I had to go there. In recent years, some of you may have been on the receiving end of my rants and rambles about the need for people to return to "community" and my conviction that our self imposed urban isolation was only impeding happiness. During the last couple of years working in television, a strange and nagging feeling of emptiness in my stomach began to expand and my passion for the medium slowly began to erode. Questioning my motivation each day on the 45 minute bus ride into town, the reason for the gaping hole began to emerge. I realised that television was one of the greatest distractions keeping people away from truly connecting with themselves and with eachother. Was it Public Enemy that sang "Television: the drug of a nation"?, I can't recall, but it rings true. Numbing our senses, tricking us into thinking it's connecting us to the world when in fact it's only keeping us on the couch. I can't help but fall into a rant every time I think about it... but I'll stop right there. Actually, I'll just say this: switch it off and see what happens. Right, so where was I...aah Sadhana. We stayed for 3 weeks. We worked making bunds from 6.30am to 11.30am each day. Or sometimes it was kitchen duty, preparing breakfast and lunch for around 50 people. Work was never more gratifying, even the toilet duty. This involved transferring the crap from the dry composting toilets over to a great big compost pile which was to eventually end up in the vegie garden. It was smelly and dirty, but most of you know how much I like being smelly and dirty - so let's just say I was in my element - ha!
Evenings were often spent hanging out in the communal lounge area chatting and more often than not being serenaded by the sweet sweet tunes of either Tom or Jacques & Dorothy. Spontaneous jam sessions erupted at any given moment and it was as a result of one of these that a few of us ended up heading into Morattandi village to do a little workshop with the kids there. Palani, the village school & yoga teacher, had asked me to come and do a bellydance workshop and with an abundance of talented musicians at hand, the kids would be treated to some
fab live music too. There was Moriah on the sitar, Alesh on the didge, Tom on drum and Elke on the cymbals. Word spread quickly through the village that we were coming and soon enough the tiny hut was packed out with about 40 kids aged between 3 and 13. Their beautiful faces beaming with the novelty of it all and their excitement was out of control to say the least. I was torn between wanting to watch them go completely nuts and keeping them a little in line. It was all so easy though and felt completely natural. I felt like we'd done it all a hundred times already, that's how strangely natural if felt. It gave me much food for thought anyway and I'm still carrying around the warm, fuzzy feeling from it all...
One of the other many great things I've taken away from the Sadhana experience is a teeny tiny lesson in the science of green thumbery. I can only hope to expand on it more and more in the future, but I'm so grateful at this stage to have seen just how do-able the dream of sustainable living really is. Here's to a greener pastures! http://www.auroville.org/society/housing_s.htm
Next stop: Bangalore Traffic, noise and air polllution, neon lights and pushy crowds, I wondered what the hell I'd stepped into and why I'd left the peace and clarity of Sadhana for this mayhem.
Fortunately I was welcomed into the lovely home of Nithila and Sanjay (and Flash the Dog) - what an oasis! It made re-adjusting to big city madness so much easier and Amsa's home cooking was spectacular.
Looking back on it, I feel like Bangalore opened up and swallowed me whole. (I being a willing subject, of course!). So many people, so many invitations, social gatherings, new ideas, new projects and of course, what I'd originally gone there for: bharatnatyam and yoga. But first, I needed a place to stay. I decided to try couchsurfing. (www.couchsurfing.com).
Just cos I reckon I'm one of the luckiest and most blessed souls around, I found myself at Maaya, in the company of Manju, Sabitha, Sumit and others.

It's amazing how when you're on the right path, all the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place.

And that's how it was with meeting this lot. The library at Maaya had everything I needed at the right time. I had wanted to read more of Krishnamurti, and lo and behold, volumes of his work manifested before my eyes. I couldn't get enough of it. And from there, other great reads emerged.

The other day I was thinking about how comforting being in the presence of books is for me (something to do with endless hours spent at the library in childhood no doubt) and how living in a library for a month meant that I could feel totally at home and secure in a city that was overwhelming at times.
But it wasn't just the library, it was the people. Like-minded peeps, whose conversation was always stimulating and whose souls were warmer than an Indian summer. I will be eternally grateful for having met them and for everything they shared with me: creative ideas, philosophy, laughs and CLOTHES!!!

Check out this fabulous skirt:

Four out of seven days I went to class. It was the first time in my life that being a student
wasn't a bore or a chore. Mondays was yoga and my group dance class in the afternoon. Class consisted of anywhere between 30 and 50 girls aged between 6 and 33 (me). There I was with my 2 left feet and unco hands being shown the ropes by 8 year olds. I soaked up their knowledge with gusto and can't help but smile still in the lesson they gave me in humility. Bharatnatyam is complex and multi-layered. It is rich in both format and history and often times I was somewhat intimidated by it's depth. Originating as a devotional dance to the Gods and performed in ancient temples, at times I found myself feeling unworthy of the dance. But my teacher,Yamini, through example, taught me that I didn't need to be devoted to the Hindu gods as she was, but that I just needed to honour the dance. Fair enough. And so I do.

Also while in Bangalore, I was inspired to begin the monthly Spark Up. (See previous blog entry.) Here are the original Sparkettes having a dance and a giggle.

To say good bye and thank you to all the fab people I met in Bangalore (and to show off my fabulous new costumes!), we put together a little show. I had planned to do my usual two track, 9 minute performance, but when I was done, nobody moved and I was forced to keep dancing! Not that I minded of course. All my love always, xxbarb

Here are some shots of the mystical, magical Hampi. That place has serious wow factor.

chao, xxb

PS - Ok, just one more thing about television... don't get me wrong, I do believe it's a great and powerful medium with huge potential for good, especially when it comes to storytelling. But do we need all the crap in between? I seriously doubt it. Alas, if only there was more of it like Six Feet Under... but that's just another rant. Hehehe... I make me laugh!

The Inaugural 'Spark Up'

As part of my commitment to sharing my two great passions, I will be hosting free, monthly workshops in either spinning poi or tribal bellydance.
The aim is simple.
To share and to give those actively looking to try something new the opportunity that they seek.
Workshops can be held anywhere; a park, a rooftop, your living room, the beach, a festival and so on. It doesn't matter.
What does matter is that you take the step and HAVE A GO!!!
All you have to do is show up and I'll take care of the rest by creating a fun and informal atmosphere for you to play in.
To find out where the next Spark Up will take place, just keep an eye on this space.
You can "sponsor" a Spark Up too. Just email me for details.
Too easy!!
=========================================================================
Last Tuesday saw the inaugural 'Spark up', held in Bangalore, India.
With enormous thanks to Manju, Sabitha & Co. for providing a truly magical and inspirational space, we were able to pull together this somewhat spontaneous gathering in just a couple of days.
With a new, tailor made flying skirt (thanks again M & S -I love it!), I was ready for some tribal goodness. It had been a long time since I'd worn this beautiful item of clothing and I'd forgotten the power it holds for drawing one to the dance.
After a short demo and chat about ATS, our 6 eager Sparkettes were ready to give it a burl. We started with some fast moves including a ¾ shimmy. I love sharing this move with new students as it never fails to get a giggle out of them and really, who can resist a good booty shake?!
All the girls had come directly from their work stations to Maaya for the workshop. When they walked in they seemed to be carrying the weight of a hard day’s work from their shoulders to the tips of their toes. What a delight it was to witness that layer of computer screen, flouro lit tension fall away as the class progressed. It hadn’t taken long at all and it had been so easy. What’s more, seeing their beaming smiles as they said goodbye to enjoy the rest of their evening in lightfooted ease, I felt confident that the Spark Up project was most definitely going to bring many similarly happy results.
What more could a SparkleGirl ask for?
xxb

Hip Bumps in Bangalore

Bangalore Sparkettes

Part 2...Varanasi

Next stop, Varanasi. What a funny, mad place. Arriving in Varanasi felt like arriving in India. Everything I'd ever been told about India, I managed to see here in just a few short days. Most days were spent walking. Walking and watching...and replacing my Vietnamese coffee addiction with an Indian chai addiction. Somehow lactose intolerance doesn't cross continents, so it was with delight that I indulged the sweet, hot milky goodness of this national obsession.

After 10 days on the meditation retreat in Bodhgaya, I was in major need of a good, long str-e-e-e-tch.

So off I went to Babalu's. Quite simply, Babalu was an Indian 'Disco Stu'.

Babalu was so cool, he never removed his shades, he barely spoke above a whisper and when he did, his sentences were so short, they were practically haiku. He wore his pants tight and he played the Sitar like a God. He owned two mobile phones and he was always on a call. I loved him, not just because he was so damn funny, but also because he introduced me to the yoga king himself, Raju.

Oh Raju! Compact, ageless and powerful with flaming eyes that saw right through you and revealed nothing back. He was a yoga machine with a heart of gold. He knew the secrets to health and happiness and he'd made it his mission to share it with anyone willing to search him out. Raju kept a scrapbook of all his media appearances as the Mr Universe of the yoga world. Black and white mementos of a greatness gone by. He loved to share the stories behind the photos and such was his enthusiasm in storytelling that he’d jump out of lotus position and be on his head in seconds to demonstrate his ongoing yogic prowess. I couldn’t help but be charmed and it was by far the most entertaining yoga course I’ve ever undertaken. He taught yoga like bootcamp but with exceptional warmth and humour. I’m so grateful for his demanding and regimented tutelage and for reminding me that yoga needn’t always be a sober om. THANK YOU RAJU! My head has at long last met my knees and while the two are yet to linger for more than a quick hello, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time till they’re firm friends.

Bride at Dasaswamedh Ghat

Having a shave.

Just how did the cow get on the balcony?

The Beginning...

Ok, so here I am in Bangalore, 3 months into my trip, I've maybe written 2 emails since departure and folks are starting to wonder what on earth I've been up to.
As time has moved on and I've delayed the telling of this tale, the more difficult it has been to begin as the course of events have become bigger, better and far greater than I could ever have imagined and so the task of putting it all into words has become daunting to say the least. But sod it. The time has come and with many thanks to Nithi and Sanjay for providing me with this oasis in the concrete jungle, I sit here with hot cuppa and warmly welcome y'all to:

THE MUCH DELAYED, MUCH ANTICIPATED, CATCH UP WITH BABS ON THE ROAD PICTORIAL JOURNAL FOR BUSY PEOPLE. enjoy... xxb

It all began with the gorgeous Kimmie when some time late last year she planted the seed that saw me start on this journey a little earlier than I'd first planned। What a blessing it was indeed to have my rockin' soulsista gal pal buddy alongside for the first leg of the journey। We laughed, we played, we soaked up the smells. Pic.1 - Here we are having a giggle one fine dawn at Angkor.

One of the many things I loved in Cambodia were the Apsaras depicted on the stone carvings at Angkor. I couldn't get enough of them and thankfully there were plenty of them there to keep me gazing. The ultimate feminine deities, captured dancing in stone, I couldn't help but feel an affinity towards them.
After Cambodia, I mosied my way back to Vietnam to complete some unfinished business. On Christmas Day I'd had my bag with credit cards and valuables stolen from Nha Trang beach (boo) and so I reluctantly headed back into the throng of bright lights, big city mayhem to finish sorting it all out. The good thing about it was I got a little more time to do southern Vietnam and ended up on Phu Cuoc Island...with these two gorgeous trash bags. (Pic.3) We busied ourselves with ... actually we didn't do a bloody thing, and it was awesome. Gin o'clock on the beach watching the sunset was a major highlight.

After a harried return to Saigon and only just making my flight to Bangkok, I said goodbye Se Asia and helllooooo India.
Kolkata to be exact. I was ready and keen as Keen's to begin the next phase and so it was that I hopped on that flight with open heart and open mind. Minimal expectation so that each new sight, smell, encounter could only ever be a wonderful surprise. And that it has been indeed with whipped cream and cherry on top to boot!

Sparkle Buddha!
After adjusting to the newness of India and the sensory overload that was Kolkata, I headed for Bodhgaya.

Some time ago, I had made up my mind that I needed to see and be with The Bodhi Tree. I can't actually remember where the idea came from as I'd only read bits and pieces of Buddhist philosophy in the past and while I'd felt an affinity towards Buddhism, it hadn't been my intention to come to India on a spiritual odyssey as is the case for many. At some point however, the notion entered my subconscious and it became a major reason for coming to this land. And so, stop number one, the bodhi tree.

I was sick with the flu and a mild fever the day I arrived. The train came into Gaya at 4am and I must have looked like quite the lost lamb because a kind gentleman who I'd shared the train cabin with, put me on a cycle rickshaw and told the driver where I needed to go. After being dropped off in a deserted street but for a single rickshaw and a newspaper vendor, we began the wait. We weren't going anywhere till the rickshaw was full, or so that's what I read the sign language to mean. Full was an understatement. Now usually you can manage 3 adults in the back of a rickshaw, but on that cold and foggy morning, we managed a neat 11 passengers (including the newspaper vendor and all of his newspapers.) With my left butt cheek hanging out, I smiled as we set off in the dark for Bodhgaya. When we went over the first pot hole and I bumped my head so hard that my eyes watered, I laughed all the way to Bodhgaya. I love India, is all I could think.

After a power snooze to keep the fever at bay, I made my way to the tree. Bodhgaya as it turns out, is a major place of pilgrimage and I had to laugh at my naivety when I recall that I had imagined I'd visit a humble tree set in an open space, maybe it would have a plaque or something on it... what the? Rather, I was met with throngs of tourists, Indian families out for the day, Nepalese and Tibetan pilgrims, western devotees circumambulating and buddhas-in-the-making at every turn meditating meditating meditating.

Still, setting foot on the temple grounds where the tree sits, despite the bustle and beggars, the peace was overwhelming.
This little one in robes came and sat next to me. We sat under the tree and watched the people, soaking up the atmosphere. He got up, came back and presented me with this leaf.

My very own piece of the tree. I was touched by his intuition. Had I been yearning for a leaf so loudly that he couldn't help but overhear my desires? So we talked in sign language for a bit and then he asked to take my picture.

This is the picture.

I loved that he had never held a camera in his life and he was so happy with the result he was beaming when he skipped away. I sat for a long while afterwards and knew that I'd come to a very special place indeed.

The next day as I was coming back from one of the many temples around the place, the smell of kerosene tickled my curiosity. I followed the source to a village street. This is what I saw.

Turns out it was Muharram, a Muslim festival, or so my new best friend, Vikram told me.

Vikram was about 9, all charm and all brains. Over the next few days I met most his friends, his mother and sister, his school teacher and, "wait wait Barrrbara, now you meet my bestest friend, yes?" And his best friend. We played cricket. For those of you who know me well enough, I'll let you soak up the humour of that sentence.

Vikram and his friends thought it was pretty funny too. Actually, they thought I was pretty funny. After falling over themselves as they watched me "run like a girl", they called time out, huddled, and amid giggles Vikram was nominated the messenger.

"Ok, so we talk and now Barrrbara, you bat. Only bat. ok?"

"Ok"

"No run, ok?"

"No run? But what if I hit the ball?"

A true diplomat, he coughed over his giggles.

"No no, no run. We run for you. You just bat. Bat good, ok?"

"Brilliant."

And so it was that every time I managed to hit the ball, one of them came sprinting from the field and made run after run on my behalf.

Vikram and the Team, Bodhgaya

"real happiness in life begins when you begin to cherish others"

-Lama Zopa Rinpoche

Bodhgaya was also about my first serious foray into meditation. I decided to do a course at Root Institute. 10 days of divine silence, wholesome love-infused food, an overwhelming majority of like minded, nirvana seeking Australians (from Melbourne!), bodhicitta the dog, the goats and two teachers to whom I will be forever grateful for their knowledge and passion for sharing the philosophy that continues to blow my mind and open my heart.
While there, we were introduced to some of the teachings of Ven. Ani Tenzin Palmo. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tenzin_Palmo
If you ever get a chance to listen to her words, do it. What an inspiration, what a woman!
Here's a sample...http://www.gatsal.org/teachings/time_01.html

Root Institute, the Maitreya Buddha and giant prayer wheel in the making.

Ginger tea and the Dhamma. If you look closely, you might see splatterings of my mind on the walls due to regular explosions.

Dawn at Root Institute

This concludes blog entry number one. Hope you enjoyed the tale so far. I'm loving every nano-second. All my love and stay tuned...
xxbarb

Sparklegirl Hits the Road for 2008!

This year I've been inspired to get on the road and take the opportunity to further explore a world of ancient and contemporary dance. From India to the the U.S, I'll be studying, teaching and exchanging art forms with lovers of fire and dance all over.

If you'd like to catch up or make an inquiry about a performance/workshop, this is where I'll be:

February - June 2008

Pondicherry, India

Bangalore, India

Goa, India

Kathmandu, Nepal

Pokhara, Nepal

Ladakh, India

Dharamsala, India

Rajasthan, India

July - September 2008

New York City, USA

Burning Man Festival, USA

San Francisco, USA

Contact:

India: 91-9836 803 877

USA: tbc

Email: sparklegirl.productions@gmail.com