In the Land of Smile

“Thailand” translates to land of the free.  Siam, the former name for the country, means the land of smile.  And from a tourist-marketing standpoint, the second one is better.

Actually, the land of smile is not unfitting for Thailand.  Graced with beautiful beaches and rainforests, cheap prices, cheap medical care and a lax legal system when it comes to pleasures like sex, alcohol and flying lanterns, Thailand has set itself up as the ultimate tourist destination of Eurasia. 

On the plane flight over, Annika, who is sitting next to me, faints.  After waking, she is still disoriented, prompting the flight attendant to call overhead for a doctor.  A nice doctor from Miami comes back from first class to help.  For anyone who is curious, this is one of my arguments for why I want to be a doctor summed up. 

Arriving in Bangkok is a real shock after India.  The airport is filled with Caucasians and East Asians (read Japanese, Chinese and Korean).  The line for Thai passports is deserted, to the point where the worker comes over to help with the international arrivals.  I get stopped at passport control because my arrival sheet does not have a departure sheet attached, and I am forced to refill it out.  Julia left her phone on the plane, but the airport staff quickly return it to her.  Like India, Thailand is a place where people will bend over backwards to help you.  Perhaps an extension of the famous eastern hospitality.  Marty warns us that such services are not free, and that we should always tip.

On the bus, around 9pm, we are welcomed by “Sam,” our tour guide for the next 24 hours, with a bow and a grin that seems artificially big.  Which makes me a bit wary of him.  But it is not artificial, and I am a bit wary of him.  India has made me suspicious of overly friendly people.  But this is not India.  This is the land of smiles, and Sam is doing his best to get 18 sleep-deprived people excited about Bangkok.

We arrive in a hotel that looks like a 6-year-old girl designed it.  But it has a pool and free wifi, and the staff is extremely chill.  That is another eccentricity of Thailand.  For the most part, people are very lax about everything.  You want to check out late? No problem!  You want to store your stuff here for a week? No problem!  You want to stay an extra night? No problem!  You left your key in your room? No problem!  They also have the wonderful policy that if someone says “never mind,” the topic in question is never thought of again.  There is some confusion about lost bus tickets? Never mind.  Here is a new ticket.

The next morning, Sam takes us to the Royal Palace, a complex of living, administrative, and religious buildings.  It is an odd mix of Thai, Chinese and European decoration.  My favorite is the Thai colored glass.  The main temple plays host to the Emerald Buddha, which is dressed in gold clothing that reflects the season.  Thailand has been blessed with a huge amount of precious stones and gold, and walking through the palace museum rivals a walk through the tower of London’s vaults.

A boat ride across the river and we are exploring another Buddhist Temple with some of the steepest steps that we have encountered on this trip.  Almost all of Thailand is Buddhist, and it shows.  But for the all of the austerity that Buddhism preaches, the temples are extremely ornate.

After lunch, we are free for a week.  Cassie, David and I have decided to travel to Chiang Mai on the night train.  But ops, the train is not running.  Sam stays and helps us figure out a bus alternative.  We try to tip him, which he only excepts after our insistence.  When we get to the bus station, we find out that the bus is full.  Can we wait until tomorrow?  No, we have nowhere to stay.  The bus station makes some calls, and soon we find ourselves on a shuttle bus to a different bus station and on a private bus to Chiang Mai.  We also book tickets for the way back.  We are given blankets, snacks, and a voucher for free food at a rest stop half way.

Chiang Mai is best described as Ely on steroids.  Its proximity to the rainforest makes it a jumping off point for everything from trekking to zip lining.  It is also a RIYP haven (Random International Young People), whose average age appears to be 27.  We met a lot of people from around the world at our hostel, mostly on vacations. The hostel where we are staying is a family owned, out of the way place.  Only the husband and wife speak English well, but the girls (one is only 8 years old) are helpful to the extent they can be.  The wife becomes our main liaison.  She calls taxis for us and makes sure that they give us a good price, straightens out reservations for some of our last minute escapades, and answers our endless questions.  Every morning the family cooks breakfast for anyone who wants it (fried egg and toast).  The family even helped us out with a couple of bigger issues, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Because we took the bus, we arrived earlier than expected.  The hostel stored our bags, and told us to take some bikes and explore Chiang Mai.  They also gave a simplistic map.  A couple hours and several one-way streets later, we are hopelessly lost and off the map.  In an act of desperation, we go into an insurance agency’s office to ask for directions.  They end up calling the hostel, which sends a truck to pick up the bikes and us.  The insurance people will not accept a tip.  They are just being helpful.  The girl who picks us up asks how on earth we got here.  We aren’t sure.  We ask her if this has ever happened before.  She says no.  Well, first time for everything.  That evening, we go out for Italian for Cassie’s birthday.

The next day we go white water rafting.  In Chiang Mai, most companies will pick you up from your hotel/ hostel.  We are picked up around 9am, and drive far up into the forest.  We get to base camp just in time for lunch (most places will also feed you extremely big and delicious meals).  After a quick safety lesson we are thrown in a raft with a British couple and our raft guide and are sent down level 3 and 4 rapids.  We get stuck a couple of times, we flood the raft twice, we almost lose our guide once, we go swimming a couple of times, we pull each other in the water, and we have splash wars with the other rafts.  After a few hours, we get to the end and get cookies and pineapple.  After a power point of humiliating pictures, we get back in the van that picked us up.  But we are not headed home.  We stop at a gas station, where we meet another van that takes us up into the mountains.  We have a homestay tonight.  We are put up in a nice couple’s house in what I am guessing was once their children’s bedrooms.  They speak no English, and we no Thai, but other than that they are wonderfully nice.  She is an amazing cook.  We go to bed early.  The next morning, up early for zip lining.  3.1 miles of zip lining. Our guides love to mess with us.  Actually, that turns out to be pretty universal.  All of our guides love to mess with us.  Which is awesome and fun. 

That night was Thailand’s festival of lights.  The sky was filled with flying lanterns.  The creator of movie Tangled must have visited Thailand.  We bought two, one we let off in memory of Cassie’s grandfather.  We managed to stumble upon a huge fireworks show.  We met a British man, who told us that this year the festival was a little smaller because the country was technically in morning of a prominent monk that had just died.  I have a hard time imagining how the festival could have been any grander than it already was.  I will just have to come back some time.

Next day are elephants.  We are going to an elephant rescue, which apparently rescues elephants from abusive owners.  Although the conformation email says 8:45, the truck shows up at 8:30, leaving us scrambling.  In the morning, we feed elephants and learn how to ride bare back.  We have lunch, then we go out for a trail ride. Although we are the ones that are supposed to be controlling the elephants, in reality it is the Mahouts, the elephant’s individual trainers that are doing most of the work.  We soon give up trying to use the commands that we have learned, and instead just go along for the ride.  At the end, we give the elephants a bath, and begin an all out free for all water war with the Mahouts and the other people in our group.  A quick shower, and we are done for the day.

Tuesday is tiger day.  We head to Tiger Kingdom, a reserve where they breed tigers to help preserve the gene pool, and so that tourists like us can see them.  And pet them. And snuggle with them.  We start out with the 2 month olds, which are the size of house cats, and end with full grown 16 month old tigers. 

That evening, all of the globalites who are in Chiang Mai get together to celebrate Cassie’s birthday.  It was very nice to see everyone again, and we spend the evening together.

Wednesday morning is chill, and we go out for an American brunch.  I get chocolate chip pancakes and a mango smoothie.  Actually, I have had about a smoothie a day in Thailand.  It is a vacation after all.  In the afternoon we go to a spa for a Thai massage and hot herbal press.  It is heavenly.

Arriving back at our hostel, we try to decipher the return ticket we have.  It doesn’t have a time on it, which is a little disturbing. After a confusing phone call, the husband owner of the hostel takes David on his motorbike to the bus station.  Apparently our ticket had, for some reason, been invalidated.  The husband argued long and hard for us, and we got a new ticket without having to pay for it.  After this, the three of us caucus.  We were going to tip the hostel owners already, but how much?  We agree on about 1,000 Baht. It was about what we paid for one person for any one of our excursions, about $30 or so.  But it was also about what we paid in total for our hostel stay.  Needless to say, the wife was stunned.  But we were adamant.  We had been so much trouble, and they had helped us so much, it was only fair.  She would not take such kindness lying down.  She paid for our taxi to the bus station, despite our protests.  It was a good, Minnesota style kindness competition.

But it does bring to life the wealth discrepancy even within Chiang Mai.  We could easily spend close to 1000B on almost every activity that we did, but to our hostel owners it seemed like a ridiculous amount of money.  Thailand might be growing rich off tourism, but it is not even by any stretch of the imagination.

So here we are, on the bus again.  They served us a strange green drink that tasted like bubble gum.  Actually, there are a lot of weird herbal drinks here.  It is pointless trying to ask what they are, since the answers usually are something to the extent of “its an herb found in the mountains.”  Thanks, that is so helpful. 

Overall, Thailand has left me feeling warm and fuzzy.  Chiang Mai might be one big tourist trap, but it is the nicest tourist trap I have ever seen.  People were always nice and helpful, and in general were not trying to rip you off.  Except maybe the tuk tuks (auto rickshaws).  No one hawked products at you on the street.  No one creepily followed you.  And despite Marty’s warning, very few people expected tips, although we were sure to tip whenever it seemed appropriate. 

I am sad to leave Thailand.  It has restored my faith in humanity, which was much needed after walking through parts of India.  But we must keep moving forwards! Tomorrow we are off to Hong Kong

Good Night

Andrea

What Just Happened?

I haven’t blogged in a while.  I am out of practice.  And I have the colossal task of cramming 4 weeks and two cities into one blog post.  As I am writing this, I am on a bus driving from Bangkok to Chaing Mai for my fall break.  The story of why I am on a bus is a bit of an interesting one, but I think that will wait.  My next post will talk about Thailand.

So lets get started.  The unfortunate part about the last few weeks is that I really have not been keeping a record of what we have been doing.  Part of that is because it was really difficult to post blogs.  Part of it was because I was too busy playing hide and go seek and volley ball.  When we left ECC, there was a feeling among all of us of “What just happened?  Where did the time go?”                             

A typical day at the ECC consisted of waking up for 7:30 breakfast, then having an hour before class to shower and get ready.  We had an hour and a half of class, then tea break. Another hour of class, then lunch.  After lunch, if the kids were not in school we would play with them for two hours.  There were many days that they were not in school, either due to religious holidays (there are a lot of them) or because of the weekend (we usually had class on Saturdays, while they only had half days).  2:30 classes started up again until 4:30 tea.  After that we were free to play, or walk to the main street where there were stores that sold anything and everything.  There were also three major western malls that we visited a few times, either to shop or eat out when we were sick of Indian food.  Dinner at ECC was at 7:30, and the evening we spent in Dialog House, which acted as our dorm for the month. 

For the first three weeks, we mostly go to know mostly the younger kids and a couple of the men who came out to play soccer and volleyball with us.  Unlike previous years, the staff had been instructed not to invite us to their houses.  Likewise, we were the only ones at our meal times.  After Marty threw a fit about the visits (we had been told by past groups that home visitors were the best part of the trip), the ban was lifted.  But the staff was still skiddish about inviting us over.  I went over to houses a couple times in the first few weeks, but nowhere close to the almost daily visits that years past did.  Elena and Clarissa were the only exception.  Elena was adopted in the second week by Lihket’s family (lihkit was a 13 year old who played soccer and volleyball), and went over almost every day.  Clarissa befriended Jeb and the majority of the kitchen staff.

Then, in the last week, a few of the older girls came out.  They originally got together to do a Bollywood dance for cultural night, an annual event in which St. Olaf and ECC do a variety show.  Elena, who had met two of the girls (sisters of Lihkit), decided she wanted to dance too.  Andrew had gone into watch at the encouragement of Sam (a 13 years old who idolized Andrew.  Actually, all of the little boys idolized Andrew, and the girls flocked to me.  Working with kids over the summer has its advantages).  I was dragged in by Shesmika (8).  Other globalites wandered in, and soon half of the group was learning Lungi Dance (insert link).  Andrew and Elena would also learn another song (1234 Get on the Dance Floor).  Andrew began going over to Lihkit’s with Elena.  Then, after cultural night, I followed them.  Thus began a whirlwind three day friendship.  The next day was a study day before our final.  The three of us instead went to the mall with Lihkit, Hannah, Likha, and Socya.  We watch a pirated Chenni Express (one of the latest Bollywood films), and spent a lot of time at houses or on their street talking.  The night before we left, we stayed up until 3:30 in the morning, then got up to go to tea at 5:00am (we were leaving at 6:30). 

We left with a great deal of tears, both at ECC and again at the airport.  The worst part is thinking what could have been. What if we had been able to go over to the staff’s house right away?  What if the girls had come out sooner?  What if we had been given more of a chance to know the ECC staff sooner?  What if our classes were lined up with the school breaks, so we could play with the kids or hang out with the people our age, instead of being stuck in a classroom?  What if our classes were earlier, so we had more of an afternoon free?  I left ECC with the feeling that I had left something incomplete.  I would give almost anything to be able to redo our time at ECC.

This feeling and the stress of registering for classes colored my opinion of Delhi.  I spent the first evening there feeling sorry for myself.  We didn’t have anything planned, so most of us hung out in the lobby, talking and checking registration.  The next day we visited the Taj Mahal.  That was amazing.  It is one of those sites that you really do not appreciate until you are there.  We also visited the Agra fort, which also doubled as a royal palace.  The next day, we got a bus tour of Delhi.  Dehli is split into two parts: Old Delhi and New Delhi.  Don’t be confused; it is still only one city.  But the new part was built around 1911 by the British.  It’s wide boulevards and ample vegetation are proof of that.  It looks like it could be a “western” city.  It is in this part of the city that the government buildings reside.  Old Delhi is more reminiscent of the other big cities in India, with small alleyways and wires strung precariously between buildings.

The next day we flew for Bangkok for fall break.  But that is enough for now.  I will post about Thailand after break.

I would just like to talk a moment to recognize, here at the half way point of global, how incredibly fortunate I am to be traveling with the group that I am.  I was thinking last night, that if anything ever happened, I could trust and talk openly to anyone in the global group.  I don’t think that I have had that before.  I mean, usually there are people in a group that you trust, and people who are just kind of there.  Especially after our time at ECC, I feel like I am friends with everyone on global.  Not that they don’t drive me crazy daily.  But that comes with traveling with the same people for five months. 

Anyways, I am going to stop being sappy and try to get some sleep.

Night

Andrea

Field Trip

This last week we took a trip to Turuaniomoli (I am sure that I misspelled that, but I really have no idea how to spell it).  Turu is a small town, but plays host to a huge number of religious sites.  Ok, religious sites might not be the best word.  There is A religious site.  That is the nearby mountain that is holy to Hindus as a god (either given by Shiva, or is Shiva, it was never really clear).  The holiness of the area has since attracted many gurus, who have then set up ashrams.  Turu has now become a huge tourist town, attracting tons of westerners who are “seeking.”

We got up at 5 in the morning in order to arrive by 11.  A long detour later, we got there just in time for lunch.  We checked into the hotel, which, although having the appearance of a nice hotel, had some major problems.  Like empty shampoo bottles, swarms of ants, and a cleaning staff that moved and dug through our stuff. 

Quo Vadis was set up as an interfaith dialog center.  It was created to “make space” for conversations to happen.  Ironically, we did very little conversing, and a lot more sleeping on the open porches.  Actually, I am still unsure what exactly how Quo Vadis does this cross religion conversation, since the only people I saw at Quo Vadis were our group and the seminarians.  But clearly they were somewhat successful, because they had conversed enough with the Hindus to get us a special blessing at the major Hindu temple.  A blessing that most Hindus will never get.  Talk about student privilege. 

Quo Vadis was a mixture of a 25% hostel and 75% café.  We ate lunch and dinners there, and breakfast at our hotel.  Quo Vadis was mostly courtyards and gardens covered by wooden or straw roofs.  There was one main building with a library, offices, and a couple rooms for visitors.

We spent the trip mostly with our shoes off in Ashrams.  Everywhere we went, we were told that this certain guru, or sect, had found some form of enlightenment, and that if we only did this, and kept an open mind, we would see changes in our life.  The secrets of life ranged from meditation with pink lights, to sitting in silence and asking “who am I,” to chanting the name of a dead guru, to realizing that you are a point of light right in the middle of your forehead.  A few of us decided that it would have made a good drinking game. 

But all sarcasm aside, the ashrams seemed more like cults of personality.  They all worshipped their founders as if they were gods.  Actually, there is an Indian saying that the guru is god.  When we were talking to some of the devout, they often compared their masters to Jesus.  I am curious. Have these teachers actually obtained some state of mind that makes them special, or are their worshippers just so desperate for hope that they will follow someone who they believe is special.  The gurus themselves ranged a great deal.  Some were dedicated to peace and humanitarian efforts, and would meet with world leaders to help towards that effect.  One guru just sat in silence for years, and people started to ask him questions.  Actually, that one reminded me of Forrest Gump.  He was just some guy who sat down and thought (like Forrest just deciding to run) and everyone else assuming that he was something special, when he really wasn’t.  But maybe that is just pessimism.

Actually, this whole time in India have really made me reconsider how I view religion.  I am really critical and suspicious of most religions, but pretty easily accept my own.  Why am I so suspicious of these gurus, but not of Jesus.  How do I know he was not just one of these great teachers?  Or, I could take the Indian approach and say that they are all paths to the same end.  But I am not sure I completely agree with that either.  I have a hard time believing that the oppressive caste system can be on the same level as the universal love that I have always been taught.

Anyways, that is enough deep religious thought for now.  But India has really given me time to think.  Like why western cultures have different views of hospitality? And when is technology a good thing or an alienating thing?  And how does Andrew gain the respect of people so quickly?

I should stop now while I still can. 

Good night

Andrea

Beautiful People

A quick warning before I begin.  For the next month, my Internet access will be VERY limited. 

I am writing to you from the town of Whitefield (yes, that is actually what it is called, it isn’t a translation), an hour outside of Bangalore, India.  We are staying at a place called the Ecumenical Christian Center (ecc for short).  The ECC was created as a place that anyone could come live, regardless of money, caste or race.  The only requirement is that you (or a family member) need to be enrolled in a class.  The idea is to promote education, especially among poorer communities. 

We each have our own rooms in the Dialogue House.  The set up of the buildings in India is very different than back home.  There really are very few hallways that I have encountered.  They are more covered walkways.  Being on the second floor “hallway” is really more like walking along a balcony from room to room.  It is very cool.  Not that the ecc has any 2-story buildings.  Those are mostly just in the cities. 

Our rooms all circle two open courtyards.  Our windows have no glass, just screens to keep out the bugs.  Bugs still get in, but I have been very meticulous about not having any food smelling things in my room, so I have not had as much trouble as other people.  We have showerheads that spray cold water, or you can take a bucket shower with warm water.  I am opting for the latter. Our classroom is also in the Dialogue House.

Meals are all served to us, and they usually have a spicy and not spicy option.  We have half an hour periods to eat, and we are the only ones in the dinning hall despite the fact that this place is pretty full.  Other people eat at other times, and we have been kicked out after our time is up.  I think Marty is trying to track down a reason.  I have heard everything from reduced traffic flow to dietary restrictions.  If it were a matter of diet, I would not mind eating something else if it meant getting to know more people at the center.  But they haven’t exactly asked for our opinion.

Before coming here we were in Mumbai for 3 days.  The first day we got in at 5am after a 6 hour plane flight.  After checking in at the YMCA (it was set up like a really cheap hotel, but they provided free meals) we went on a bus tour of Mumbai.  Driving through the city, you would see slums one minute, then high-rises the next.  In the afternoon we walked through one of the slums.  This particular slum was the biggest in Mumbai, and where parts of Slum Dog Millionaire were filmed.  Wires hung precariously above our heads, and trash was under our feet.  The buildings varied in quality, but mostly had tin roofs and tarp held down by bricks to keep out the rain.  The people there, in order to support themselves, made pottery or sorted through recycling or worked with leather.  There is no operational social security system in India, so there were many older women working long hours to earn enough to live in the slums. 

There were a few boys that followed us around for a while, posing for pictures and asking questions.  They all seemed remarkably happy, given the destitution around them.  Actually, everyone we met was quite cheerful, and no one asked us for money (a welcome relief after Istanbul).  I guess it goes to show that happiness is not dependent on money.  That being said, a little more money to buy the kids shoes might have been nice.

The next day we went to a law college.  The morning started with a Q and A with one of the profs, then we had to answer questions of the students.  We went out for lunch with some of the students, then ceremonially planted trees (why? we have no idea).  We then went back to the college, where some girls were performing more traditional dances.  They put on pop music and invited us to dance Bollywood style with them.  We went back to the YMCA for a break and dinner.  That evening we went out clubbing with the students.  They took us to one of the nicest clubs in the city.  The drinks were actually cheaper than in Istanbul, because the conversion rate between Rupees and dollars was still good then.  It is getting a lot worse since our government is still not up and running (66-$1 vs 44-$1).

The law students that took us out kind of remind me of the Princeton Stereotype.  They were kids from super rich families, who were expected to enter law to make a lot of money themselves, but were only really interested in partying.  Quite the contrast from the slums. They were very nice to us, and did a very good job of protecting the girls.

The next day we visited Elephanta Island, an hour boat ride away from Mumbai where there is a huge shrine to Shiva.  Our tour guide went through each of the 9 relief statues and told us stories from Hindu mythology.  It is amazing how many similar motifs there are with Christianity, especially surrounding death and rebirth.  Hinduism is not shy about sexuality though.  Anyone who has seen a Shiva shrine will understand what I mean.

The island is also host to some mischievous monkeys, who have no problem with stealing food or Coca-Cola from an unsuspecting guest.  They made many children very unhappy.

That evening I met up with a friend who had graduated from St. Olaf last year.  He is in Mumbai as an intern with an organization fighting human trafficking.  We walked along the coast of the Arabian Sea for a while, had dinner at a really nice pizza place, then kept walking.  At one point in our conversation, it came up that I was frustrated that I had left my bible at home.  He offered to help me find one.  After talking with a friend, we figured out that it would be impossible that evening, but perhaps the next morning.  The next morning he showed up at YMCA with a bible.  His bible.  He left me a note inside telling me not to feel guilty about it.  Easier said than done.  There are some people in this world that are just too awesome of people. 

That morning we flew to Bangaluru airport. Heather had come down with a really nasty stomach bug and fever which is only now (Tuesday) starting to get better.  We were met by Reggie and Min Loon (idk if that is the spelling; that is how they sound).  I wasn’t feeling too hot either, so I slept the hour bus ride to Whitefield.  Once there, we had tea (we have morning and afternoon tea here) and then brought out a soccer ball.  A couple of teenagers joined us and we played until we couldn’t see anything and it was dinnertime.  That evening, Cassie, Sara, Chiea and I made decorations for Lisa’s door for her birthday the next day.  We stayed up late to put them up after she went to bed.

The next day we had a tour of Bangalore, which wasn’t much of a tour, since everything was closed for a religious festival.  They literally have religious festivals every other week here!  We walked around the botanical gardens for a while.  There were many Indian tourists from the country there who wanted pictures of the white people, so we stopped for many photos, including one with a baby. 

In the afternoon, Min Loon, Reggie and Jeb took us out shopping.  I got an Indian style tunic that I wore today.  They are really nice and comfortable.  My only complaint is that, being 100% cotton, it wrinkles.  But they are all cotton.  We had lunch and dinner at a hotel restaurant.

Today was our first day of class.  In the morning we had a lecture on Indian values and their origin.  It was interesting to see how one group of elite were able to create a value system that benefitted them so completely and how everyone has just accepted it as truth.  I can’t help but wonder though.  Indian society seems to stress contentment where you are.  Which can lead to peace of mind.  But it also hinders progress.  There are elements of Indian society that seem so backward, like the lack of good water and the attitudes towards women.  Are these being perpetuated by the contentment and lack of urgency that Hinduism and its associated values produce?  Or is there some confounding element that is keeping India back.  I do not know.  But I have often wondered about the idea of whether contentment is in conflict with progress.

After lunch we had a lecture on Yoga.  It was amazing what is all involved in truly doing yoga.  It is not only an exercise, but a way of life.  For someone to truly gain the benefits of yoga, they must first adhere to what our teacher called a “universal moral code,” which promotes non violence, truth, not stealing, chastity before marriage.  The yogi must strive for contentment, self-control, worshipping “the almighty” and I am forgetting the rest.  Interesting though about worship.  Actually it is remarkably compatible with Christianity if treated as a science.  A yogi must have good posture, with muscles as relaxed as a flower, but the control to become as hard as a diamond.  Both physical and mental strength are valued.  A yogi must meditate, so that they can focus purely on one thing at a time, and eliminate the duality that comes from self-doubt.  Basically, you develop perseverance to the point where, once you set your mind to something, you will complete it and not doubt that you can or should.  This focus gives way to the mental state of flow, which gives way to a higher, unexplainable state.  To sum it up, yoga is an exercise in physical and mental discipline that promotes values that are similar to and compatible with Christianity.  And if it will give me focus, emotional control, and mental clarity, I am willing to give it a shot.

In the evening we played with the kids.  The youngest was not even two, while the oldest was probably in high school.  The older kids played soccer and badminton, while I and a few other girls played with the younger ones.  We played hide and go seek, catch and catch (tag, with one team of taggers and one team running), a game like heads up seven up, one at a time with nose pinching, duck duck goose, steal the bacon, and doggie doggie where’s your bone.  Then I played badminton for a while, then Frisbee, then I finally went inside.  After dinner and some internet time, I played ghost in the graveyard with a few other people.  I prefer this infinitely to clubbing.

6:30 yoga tomorrow. This will be fun.

Good night

Andrea