tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42872350709362332912024-02-18T21:36:32.017-08:00Blogs need titles?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-14019883631935068192011-09-09T21:59:00.000-07:002011-09-09T23:00:17.684-07:00I'm in America, but...<div>I have tons of pictures from Japan I want to get up on hurr. School has started and I'm extremely busy, so thank you for being patient with me.<div>So...last time I posted stuff from Morioka. And after Morioka, I went to a lovely city called<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachinohe">Hachinohe</a> in the Aomori prefecture of northern Japan. While serving as a missionary, Hachinohe was my second area and I served there for a total of 7 months. I feel that I really grew the most in Hachinohe. I went in there hardly being able to introduce myself in Japanese and left being able to hold fairly solid conversations.</div><div>Sister Kitamura is such a kind member. She looks after the missionaries and with me, I felt we developed a certain familiarity that was deep and eternal. I was blessed to be able to spend lots of time with her in Japan. She went out of her way to help me out. She helped me find a place to stay. I stayed at Brother Ono's house, another member I grew close to. Anyway, here's some pics and vids.</div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uIsa3or8E3GQEEHoEkwwRHT9qZE_XoOAQj8J8geMsFpoZ9Hil2834lbzoWN-59kuhQVocApE1hRgSUXYpmsRDzNgwQ37d-V7r1j36nSN5Ys56FfcyjKWeL5MKn7Inj1ModBuaYPTcir2/s1600/IMG_8772+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uIsa3or8E3GQEEHoEkwwRHT9qZE_XoOAQj8J8geMsFpoZ9Hil2834lbzoWN-59kuhQVocApE1hRgSUXYpmsRDzNgwQ37d-V7r1j36nSN5Ys56FfcyjKWeL5MKn7Inj1ModBuaYPTcir2/s320/IMG_8772+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601984414729346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Freaking sweet dolls made from paper!</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6tseTaPU37LSiGOEQRzU5tCKHWGho0cbXtNzaVhmyyeHmEpiP6Er-ER8dYNgG5XbK8Jk5b7e9ifiKf-eBaNL9JKQP_kLfc8kzd8_5PDFc3FKMsoC9HoJZaHxDbvZrEGOhFqWkgYKSPUO/s1600/IMG_8754+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6tseTaPU37LSiGOEQRzU5tCKHWGho0cbXtNzaVhmyyeHmEpiP6Er-ER8dYNgG5XbK8Jk5b7e9ifiKf-eBaNL9JKQP_kLfc8kzd8_5PDFc3FKMsoC9HoJZaHxDbvZrEGOhFqWkgYKSPUO/s320/IMG_8754+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601980906298290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Bro. Ono.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzQsJs-nr_zZ-z-ZhXTErXjjW6RHDo5fFx03MF4tsY2-X0m8TEsml-AW7_bis-8-ADzhoxEXZSyGS6Z2fPEMK8qX1KvOPxfZ7_f-F9OJs6x2yC3b7q20b2Gc-ZRFu_hda2FgA7kcTiNiw/s1600/IMG_8746+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzQsJs-nr_zZ-z-ZhXTErXjjW6RHDo5fFx03MF4tsY2-X0m8TEsml-AW7_bis-8-ADzhoxEXZSyGS6Z2fPEMK8qX1KvOPxfZ7_f-F9OJs6x2yC3b7q20b2Gc-ZRFu_hda2FgA7kcTiNiw/s320/IMG_8746+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601977836441330" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwnSSmH5Eda5GWqs8SVhRXq5T1KtVIB4ZrjiInyYRhOU1BpkKNDBNZnZQfffM1rIAt58ubPx6fuTD_jmuzQLmZFKFXbf7uLWsGnQDRlB_RxkS2_jQBYzcbN0UVY6-pOCuBtdx7OZX7uMd/s1600/IMG_8742+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwnSSmH5Eda5GWqs8SVhRXq5T1KtVIB4ZrjiInyYRhOU1BpkKNDBNZnZQfffM1rIAt58ubPx6fuTD_jmuzQLmZFKFXbf7uLWsGnQDRlB_RxkS2_jQBYzcbN0UVY6-pOCuBtdx7OZX7uMd/s320/IMG_8742+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601414681593314" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sister Kitamura and her infamous bike.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-hqyLOOpPULIyjFcVA85T8kJzqEYFmr94-ucOvbssL7Q0JanAvMxNHSYvxAn56cCzhPcjlo0Gz_k0IFK2y9DYVIys2IT6mPC9HqkkuwfqqiY4jo3hLs6cz5md-_gVV65QKwB0XEyJG9a/s1600/IMG_8731+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-hqyLOOpPULIyjFcVA85T8kJzqEYFmr94-ucOvbssL7Q0JanAvMxNHSYvxAn56cCzhPcjlo0Gz_k0IFK2y9DYVIys2IT6mPC9HqkkuwfqqiY4jo3hLs6cz5md-_gVV65QKwB0XEyJG9a/s320/IMG_8731+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601407343325282" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hachinohe</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BbT69blCuGW1L38wVrQ6Z5F7BznRBbMnkTGoWNnvo_zbD5K3ozUSAC4zlPwSzJGTAQ23fRie9Hm8lbv0OGIB68N0M-SVAdOaZMdhNCA0Yt0zdDbNYuZVyg9Ro05IY3LtGHR_9GuvItfW/s1600/IMG_8730+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BbT69blCuGW1L38wVrQ6Z5F7BznRBbMnkTGoWNnvo_zbD5K3ozUSAC4zlPwSzJGTAQ23fRie9Hm8lbv0OGIB68N0M-SVAdOaZMdhNCA0Yt0zdDbNYuZVyg9Ro05IY3LtGHR_9GuvItfW/s320/IMG_8730+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650601401755840418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Peeing statues</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-onHsZ9vU3L7s9pbhn9uuFVkfI3tU9h_CKFQ5-LP1oIkU6oc4cxQVvZ7hI8Ye03f1X7DO3k_HxrqlNPjU12vbDg3zKP248VWYlNLOjXBZHw01cM4073J6l82tSAwMMCTxV_SVz962T160/s1600/IMG_8834.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-onHsZ9vU3L7s9pbhn9uuFVkfI3tU9h_CKFQ5-LP1oIkU6oc4cxQVvZ7hI8Ye03f1X7DO3k_HxrqlNPjU12vbDg3zKP248VWYlNLOjXBZHw01cM4073J6l82tSAwMMCTxV_SVz962T160/s320/IMG_8834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650600251028114658" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We went to the beach. The crew was solid.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLat6Cy8EhhOxXS8sssoV27gCQ_deLkszmdm5SjmJmEMz0jO8O2mFQAy6lokGGbJ7G98AJRHnIEPcXoeK0Z522PeF3lt0sxzNDmpZqOdoy2_YWPk7UtmHjE38_kLJ8Ei4JCKRBKyQyYOi/s1600/IMG_1630.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLat6Cy8EhhOxXS8sssoV27gCQ_deLkszmdm5SjmJmEMz0jO8O2mFQAy6lokGGbJ7G98AJRHnIEPcXoeK0Z522PeF3lt0sxzNDmpZqOdoy2_YWPk7UtmHjE38_kLJ8Ei4JCKRBKyQyYOi/s320/IMG_1630.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650600246088778114" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Tree of Life. in Japanese. Crazy.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbpdOfX21gwgQ-_V7nkONSKD3dsx-J9k4Ugbm4SacUYFF0EDivcio10a7PW_ZV_0tgahEHrCbFyX8kOXqwhP4Y-fZaPuI2vDxEYV7dhyg2GXe3eKU-8QsfXXBxQxF8I9UnpcuY5WsVrHV/s1600/IMG_8808.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbpdOfX21gwgQ-_V7nkONSKD3dsx-J9k4Ugbm4SacUYFF0EDivcio10a7PW_ZV_0tgahEHrCbFyX8kOXqwhP4Y-fZaPuI2vDxEYV7dhyg2GXe3eKU-8QsfXXBxQxF8I9UnpcuY5WsVrHV/s320/IMG_8808.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650597076328021234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Japanese child. </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaAIZ8SW62KOEkBv4spOQ0Zw5OwL0nHwmB37CHbSV6VIyOfvk37Xsa3DyRRTNjc8cRn7RBSDTIEesRbxC_GX6NEHCWggtVmRhi8kvtL2_uqIDK75uFeBicpq34F2jrZzFshxhzkKTD6-F/s1600/IMG_8799.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaAIZ8SW62KOEkBv4spOQ0Zw5OwL0nHwmB37CHbSV6VIyOfvk37Xsa3DyRRTNjc8cRn7RBSDTIEesRbxC_GX6NEHCWggtVmRhi8kvtL2_uqIDK75uFeBicpq34F2jrZzFshxhzkKTD6-F/s320/IMG_8799.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650596331271573778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Near the beach where we took a lunch break.</div><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy5B1rDDgNssgOGVYCMtoXrmdrq8ysSMkHj0UBhXSHJ08yvm7BN0srj2igvE9KLvtlll4K1hGPaaQXukqaOrA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy4iuUd2E7YfKifeISPM3bARofb_caQI2g12kCozJhYmH026GrVa101wce008U3zo7VXwvcWt0MWs96pRIF' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz3OSaKIYnbbkBpG3cdXNl8W7IAzii75cYg96fBsPYKIKGRpwg8cVUXoRO7mE7-z3x2hPSntfvbakyoocaJLg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzg50l3Lq4J99jB7hTMt-NQW5-SvnGQdbv_tWiWP0vjHoiQL7_ednT9mmh09ClGN9x9Oo6BPSX5j2lQJcRw9Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegdb1IePkpjdH1LRr44-xXN0fkZtrVj_0rpZtRBpg5hBDQkb_7MQt2A7jsYmKo6OGXkTeyEUteab9TYOw83R2foA7o3sUuRFvOifaczV0Z0elVeVjLMmkzJ4Mgx81As81QXrCHcFLTjrQ/s1600/IMG_8800.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegdb1IePkpjdH1LRr44-xXN0fkZtrVj_0rpZtRBpg5hBDQkb_7MQt2A7jsYmKo6OGXkTeyEUteab9TYOw83R2foA7o3sUuRFvOifaczV0Z0elVeVjLMmkzJ4Mgx81As81QXrCHcFLTjrQ/s320/IMG_8800.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650596323858295602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">great.</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dywuxv8Hcih9tDsQSMTMbORVVruA-9qVh1_O27mTIN9iPq5PJLhz-c54lfJGdY6vg5qlryO9QtcrHVbKF_XVg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-58532515081317421162011-08-18T21:38:00.000-07:002011-08-19T01:53:02.096-07:00Morioka rock star<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />I have been to the city of Morioka a few number of times, but have never really been anywhere besides the restaurant that sells unholy amounts of kats curry and the church. Bro. Takako, a member I know from Kamisugi. And he's the most rockin' homebro I think I have ever met. <div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjdXTu1fr8c_4Gmbb9I2JYBF-Lrwcuzy9vBZoxXXSCt_YjAviw7IavzRzBQSbBBt9CnVjt7awkPmbAAsyj5CydUXYOTLwF01PGCZP75n5RLlL_u_b4YQryan2rzKtHnhWqo3L2hNUdQEc/s320/IMG_1598.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642468492721365090" /></div><div>The first time I ever really talked with him, he was ta</div><div>lking about the movie <i>New York Doll, </i>which just so happens to be one of my all-time favorite films. Anyway, he frequently asks me about Led Zepplin, Queen, Aerosmith, etc. The guy knows American Rock & Roll better than any Japanese person I have ever met. </div><div>So, as I told Bro. Takako that I would be coming to Japan, he got way excited and invited me to go to a concert that his band will be playing at. I agreed and was excited because this is something I had never had the opportunity to do as a missionary. See the Japanese rockstar in action. </div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div>I arrived in Morioka about 5 hours before showtime, so I had a chance to hear the band practice a bit. They had some of their own music as well as some adaptations of some American rock and blues. I shot some footage of them rockin' around.</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzX8PPI74XAN_GsJ_s1_38bJbDG4irpNyTXBU7EaIAHvx0fgPKnz4bSkyx_HSS0BsZFKo5w2o8IqdeYawkYeA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>As I listened to them singing Rolling Stones, I didn't really notice it, but I guess I was singing along with them. Then next thing I knew, they told me I was getting on stage with them.
<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dywcO3EEK09-5L0oPTzOklRX-H35IWMHkC1e2qSL4zG6yvb8UVYxPn8CZSBIyNmFvGxx0wI2uv198S5wIDbMQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>We had many adoring fans<div>
<br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxN8QnKdT4DPcwbQWpvw-MgdyJkmdxuAvZg99D40PbL4vC1noUjb73jgyiFqhtFDZaQGqr2w-uuRttCSE_zCg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div>I even got a flower from one the cool fans. </div><div style="text-align: center;">The BA band. </div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoroj5CTLStVqSmFubjWhDuVlDg7h8-SWg8dxAmezxRGkT-fwiQC571S_gcBTPFXWFRf0H7AVGZ6NSd3K0g5Cq0F-CJZIeWiQXPy3OCuo9csUqlkGsvnycSWKmqeXLaQSBzPc8sofLtDRc/s320/IMG_1590.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642481056179486450" /><div>
<br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzd4Y4M5bL4XTRdaX_Tey0CO6CLeHdoanp9YZ5BWjzGFFLNBGOuReDqDzlE1Nnug4L3PrvgJGo2e7WISpg2fg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-39875802075452129222011-08-12T07:07:00.001-07:002011-08-19T00:35:07.820-07:00Oh Sendai the beautiful<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>Made it to Sendai peeps. Working on getting the blog organized and shiz. I`ve got a few posts to go.<div> <div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiM0cTS0oWOwxfi1DTn-DE1gz6DaHIlaj9Ea32Y-ENC20_79TsXjXfecx5CkGy7YahhSF0C9ZQ-8_WEv6mL5EUROkeXFrLxGmKHMyqGafVPXneMYQn0jNRhSNzstsBe5X7_TKgZvbqH-pT/s200/IMG_1539%255B1%255D.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639974249886145378" /></div><div>
<br /></div></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-LM6vAlftPt2dZy_0udtbJSxgacyHqivxlaV_u0ok9r9G17_tGqxbEMv_hT_bGXpAS76iOqpuIH6OhQ2rqXgY2ortgwOEBE9z4Ak_0zt-Ldskz_yhd0e535r1DJxOV_p4Ee_6l4sMt6m/s200/IMG_1554%255B1%255D.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639975119564325234" />
<br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXthTfTdwuIIsDiutKrUW90L-cNoQfVhluj1hz3VGEBa5ctDw_VW6W2c22SXR6kBT6AgaPiIo8OIFKFFO4ZDobfc-m4E4QoxUKIOMouVc35zfBvlrrSnxDrpGzihoxY93qA5TRzoWlJ-m/s200/IMG_1557%255B1%255D.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639974722773613170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></div><div>So, I left Tokyo. It was a lot of fun hanging out with Amy and Nathan and stuff. Good peeps with good souls. I headed up north for the land of milk and honey called Tohoku. This is the area where the major earthquake of March 11th happened. </div><div>
<br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwHQ2JluORMwvS-g4-wAXI1mZLYLuzAMLPq2gRc-OLmh8Ck1IoYPenMb0z6AlEvI81rPQXiS4HzJyhLHcF0rA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><div>
<br /></div><div>Being back in the mission is pretty insane. Frequently, I feel the urge to run up to every single person I see and tell them about the church. Entering convenience stores is always a joy and every time I think about how we couldn`t enter, I find it funny. They are really nothing exciting. Listening to music, watching TV, and even being alone while here in Japan has brought back such refreshing, nostalgic memories. It is like going home after being in at school. Stepping off the bullet train and into the Sendai eki, I felt comfortable and at home. Sendai was my home for so long. I had returned.</div><div>
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<br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOp0uFFSZbkcnvbfPUaRRzb5pqAEoXtyl2o_mINC3qKSyz2ueCFv1Kq-Kv8VnryRVMuxr2RDT4zpEV1FM4-zfkkAlUmjvRKGIaWt6DHd8z4uekQqGJWnIRtsysxm5XJ5S2eAgK3CohiF9/s200/IMG_1579%255B1%255D.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639977925741769122" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></div><div>
<br /></div><div>I met up with Monma and Kan while in Sendai and I stayed at the Satos. We went to see the fireworks and everything. Seriously, Japanese fireworks are incredible. They spit in the face and tickle the buttcheeks of any firework show I have ever seen. Ran and Rei Sato were wonderful enough to hang out with me at the firework show. As cool as that was, the highlight of the show was watching this kid dance. I have no idea what he was up to, but he looked like he had to pee the entire time. He stood up watching the fireworks and anytime they would stop, he would do a dance like he was trying to help himself from peeing his pants. It was awesome.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Anyway, met up with Monma for some kappazushi. Then, with Kan, we went to the ocean to see the quake. This video is a little long, but I think its well worth a watch for at least a few minutes. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>(insert video here that refuses to upload) </div><div>
<br /></div><div></div><div>Truly unbelievable, am I right? It`s one of those things that you hear about how bad the situation or damage is, but it doesn`t really hit you until you see it with your own eyes.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So videos don't like to upload for me. dang. Man, blogger sucks. I'm going to check out tumblr.</div><div>Anyway, things in Sendai were great. I had a blast. Next, Morioka!</div><div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-48625566820458164862011-08-09T00:17:00.000-07:002011-08-10T09:28:33.484-07:00I know its been a while.<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnGgNw-fEK2-Cs2U66MChHP8BLPIG4tX__Tgj7UPaTta6EVHf70Qi08Up-PeVb3qUxb-muETE6s8kErfb4SFChmSuO8sGdTYCiXmnSnZumd18PAzpY1DFYJbZSjFCrYT4Lauu0TXseHWrE/s400/Garys+pictures+056.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638757024395058146" /></div>
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<br /></div>but heres a picture after I rocked out with some japanese rockstars in morioka.So, its been really hard to post everything I have wanted to post. I have lots of neat experiences but internet usage is really strange around here. I promise as soon as I get a chance I will show you everything I have to show you. Lets see if this video will upload or not.<div>
<br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzsVYeA9TLt4o5BuEQHK6ZgUBi-DfzXAIv3IxbcMRRHvo76sfnw1GUtUCk5h9nTMTPTAUzl715Qed_48X1cxw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>great it worked. I have about 15 more minutes on the computers.<div>Heres some pics </div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0ptSGK6pwfUOpjeVPB1RXmgfuBILjLgC6BRz941hRsW43ROEwTSztkOcsHLkHbDxB4J0hgjpck4rb1FYqHEW4ryadOoxsTALrU9m_bMKTgU3-mNF0J_u31kZHOfKU_nsxwhkN4RNe9xE/s200/Garys+pictures+013.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638760899739181378" /><div>
<br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45PfPXoZJR9qT1hG4e6aFOHSXi53E0WavDJxa6eFAhiYCmrKMqk9Rl04bthOGnwv6k8JbRQwT5T8dBXNYvLcQcNSMbx0snyITaUqRL82lxuwibZ4HWUp0-7PS_wEp5F6xOTzwJpY6apAT/s200/Garys+pictures+007.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638760010207094018" /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwsc7KwcrcwAN9hHxJy7KXxGHANe6nvr9N3oao5PXVkQ5_uUUXWJNSG6MMkeKQ4h14KvqIc0MDDjPfhZ1RW8Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTcUKNr6iELu-DazLmaCHa7dIDYt_MviWJdZJnT1fPiP3FIsCNCBxjgitWwtm2VkiT2xwUItwIYoSwIL38Aa7TxUglvkGoXiz7jbsELxUxdIT8-Ac212T1MbWQQTVfG-kaQNcaFYRby6C/s200/Garys+pictures+096.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638763075627567442" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_ktnkkTcfF-leNZ2MjFLibHO0kA07sfB7p1oaGStq8sNQrEfBDCLpo-aJX4Pqf3xFIiNGaro07HVk3Eph0lfx0vQG8NU4iAeMZbTE8GZHHXC2RyrHAGZhANc325ug7TLnFwcXUEqxWLu/s200/Garys+pictures+031.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638761478614532946" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr77TY_PlF0k6rx9LAesVDt6oYzm-DXNENqQ6-864w-NLHj90a1yNV2NqsOm5A8h3_EDfU6k3EH30YZoqqhqC8TfSCaNBqZW3i3REUeICCN0Nw2q1d_Ln62ZfdM1rgvhafZzXm5UjPlHm2/s200/Garys+pictures+026.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638762459796563122" />
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<br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">Thats right Amy. It is grape ぜりー</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-58237267129560423362011-08-03T16:33:00.000-07:002011-08-03T18:15:17.802-07:00The things I do for this blog...and you people<div style="text-align: center;">So...turns out I couldn't upload anymore videos because I had no more memory on my picasa account. This morning I bit the bullet and paid a whopping $5 for 20 more gigs (that's gigabytes for you less tech-savvy people)</div><div>Anyway, got some more memory. Here's how the rest of the night went. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>.Karaoke. is. amazing. </b></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5sBFBhnopZStXvADIZGgO7Ig4mjkDHKRDoess7TZ90j-5XOkEVCYV506AvLaoUUPHf2mhaNLn3MQNXoLZCdT4LC8R1M2P47-QENlrGsoiafe1YaHLTLBPPQI2WcUTl4SHqDpO_Xj0Chs/s200/IMG_1497.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636777870231739682" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBylynY5-_HFsf5c2F2hJnfhp1Hq_s3A0iKb-dcho8JHEvNr-Gc-XXV-_Uv_WNUElMKNLBMwCAcpkuf7TNx2xqDy5C2uGkF7oqT7_1WI4JIcIG5qFImLqgzkdeEeVHnEmMAAAa7H7aPfr/s200/IMG_1507.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636778743504740562" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mwhXmr5o7gWBZBgCXoEQFVThce_PQjZ6jSZBBHc8tP0rVsumwx_YDX7o5xZc_GujVKf_ShP024yAtWjghkwL9K_QDp3cSXXHDc7gX9ylnIdilnc36-JZZ5RoUFusp_Me0_IoXbOLvrp0/s200/IMG_1498.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636778191115349762" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>So basically, you walk into this place, rent a room, and sing your heart out. They have these high-tech karaoke song machines that have almost any song imaginable. We paid for 2 hours and sang our hearts out. </div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz5DypMHorwYa-foR9D2A9kG1Tvb_3ouJdLtB6RywsRyWLfwPuDqqVbUX8pJdmA_Fk19toGy9J9dCNwtoCqYQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzUtIGSrDoJ5VkejR1gaoPXc3fX0CW_FtbZZpZR-INXMK04jqeU5EocYbqzITcdbznf-lZt9YQavVlny2o2vw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxr4vkyCfVSG-vu1EkCv6TMZd5jrogsv3kPzhY1molmmw5X9or_3A7jsi8d3_LVyXvqA59SD9AwsuAzVm6cng' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxwRhDFG_3f3Ufz3c3qb6reMSxvVmqG2s7EGxv9KpX6bwYnouEcR5t8PC1KApkUhijZNJ0E9ood1BtmNM_PnA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of the day, it all ends with purikura. Such a great day. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlYp5LI52frXLp9iXZu6__8IOIRBwp9moPNrviz5_E4O0Azk9RjWslYAMUh4pYZyV2_YLD3jjngzAj3FhSq0vHnkqV4AYJv-r2tJKJa7t4_F_51E3WjVz7qjpoBTMjtSZjhuzAUDq8AF5/s320/Purikura.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636796682256700946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-48819241875835365762011-08-03T09:03:00.000-07:002011-08-03T16:33:39.279-07:00Then after that....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aO6tokkT2u5QYkM5wxoDWrVW4oQ4a4kuC7uDPoy84nUYENHEFh4zj3HcnVeqT32MoYyJ31SBvy94twlbkPiFukdR2nvgCfSN7GKSPaYbKjpCUPD5BWyTrxFcT85weO8KFzcO1YJK-sib/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aO6tokkT2u5QYkM5wxoDWrVW4oQ4a4kuC7uDPoy84nUYENHEFh4zj3HcnVeqT32MoYyJ31SBvy94twlbkPiFukdR2nvgCfSN7GKSPaYbKjpCUPD5BWyTrxFcT85weO8KFzcO1YJK-sib/s200/IMG_1490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636776560532827506" /></a>Japan and it's interesting stores.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-4kib8rvKlWAbXwhCE5w5IJbf8xGMVX4Sj-M-vF_K0Izw7ho3RoYNj6PlzcdSrIpNckFeNSJmzjOcDzCk5Hq63NNLiWlbrgRza_59LkRYkTVajO5LEyW1vDHJm7e02uxrPI8Fwm-rSlk/s1600/IMG_1478.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-4kib8rvKlWAbXwhCE5w5IJbf8xGMVX4Sj-M-vF_K0Izw7ho3RoYNj6PlzcdSrIpNckFeNSJmzjOcDzCk5Hq63NNLiWlbrgRza_59LkRYkTVajO5LEyW1vDHJm7e02uxrPI8Fwm-rSlk/s200/IMG_1478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636662331109736786" /></a>We went to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harajuku">Harajuku</a>. Super fun and so many random styles and fashions. This<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwBmjlXJVC88lpfpSvqgxke02aB1PqTjIcXah34sz9zTxybAptAPaf-h7cT02sHng7lYOMett_xeHZ2A9ekWs7CRnsDEnM50xeOWMU-xzdG2cVoxm4uOu6A_ERI16PeEHlI8nYPlEJkzW/s200/IMG_1477.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636775276714291250" />is the epitomy of Japanese pop culture, I felt like.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitWdtewlw9ul9-9NDNXLnygrH22aidSFEjVgcNn8GaGKzOB3mpM1nbfNEimPCE-YiCTimi7Mj_iKXKHEH-q0opH7NbvcSV8n0Vhauy3gwAkHL4Ro-TGs94U4G4NdgL8jdjK5U8V3W72fU9/s200/IMG_1483.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636774928289550338" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>I met up with Nagahama Hikaru, my great friend from the mission. We met up with Honda Satoru, another missionary friend and Kuwahara Sei, a friend from Aizuwakamatsu. I wasn't supposed to see Satoru or Sei, but they called Hikaru and we all ate dinner at Ootoya...</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20mZlGzLDRmvkvRhyphenhyphen1_b_4bw2rPmuh6tYA2UCaZQbX27YQQxEg9ag0JByziXCQnN1UjkbzSgkdfoqxfiug3kuyDf_9G9HAr3JpRNUisR_Vcx3dohrrIPqSHrokoCQy-klrac_QrJleCQP/s200/IMG_1491.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636775760027134098" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJPrLujcv_COHoLUo1P8wWSXuKrw5dNcXoopwbP0bhP7QM_Yx0ZsLxFa5qQuniFGPIVeQDPMFK_Z1FgfC7w2ohNcKsEiOrhyphenhyphenIhlAvrQtZgOrUOSCOd1jiaSmQ-G6QZtWDGOHcpy4VJYqq/s200/IMG_1494.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636776768730051474" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDXR4JSE7ZT_poR6ZHrCtSd0rSvJ1SAQsYl8Qn6tXmWzcWAnnpP2U3c5NP3ojPuyGPsKVxTW_cFc32d1LpdEHaDVQvNQ-b-K_euAsaVvxgQZtG3mMerS3fGHQaEu26D6UBWJNXkm56sdx/s200/IMG_1485.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636776069288014594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div>Can't post anymore. Dang. Karaoke was super good. I think I'm going to have to figure this out tomorrow. I'm too tired. </div><div><br /></div><div>To be continued...</div><div>oyasumi nasai</div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-76813693229245910262011-08-03T08:10:00.001-07:002011-08-03T09:02:47.762-07:00Then next we went to Asakusa<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnKRY3wNWFjDuA_02onrl2O-EaRqN5vfIKa4eN1i21AB3wYOvJg-8HIuPv2RqtrhzbtLoGD8qo-4lOx3Efa64IwSk1GC23PN-IJJuKcadcNR7YJKJQ-bwY1ZZlehLmtOwejuG5GKTWPV-/s1600/IMG_1464.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnKRY3wNWFjDuA_02onrl2O-EaRqN5vfIKa4eN1i21AB3wYOvJg-8HIuPv2RqtrhzbtLoGD8qo-4lOx3Efa64IwSk1GC23PN-IJJuKcadcNR7YJKJQ-bwY1ZZlehLmtOwejuG5GKTWPV-/s200/IMG_1464.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636649942747118562" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh1L_KPl-OAaXr2M0Vpkq7OJ_cGiR0i3LNLqiB0rtjXIPcvgwzSRSIDP_V6XBW9jb2H_oBlSC1anK5eIuqKwQMgFu9gJnzfNKojn_6G2AYKUEws8BzJ9bcMAwWyTWTTEjQe78_P_gXAdG/s1600/IMG_1455.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh1L_KPl-OAaXr2M0Vpkq7OJ_cGiR0i3LNLqiB0rtjXIPcvgwzSRSIDP_V6XBW9jb2H_oBlSC1anK5eIuqKwQMgFu9gJnzfNKojn_6G2AYKUEws8BzJ9bcMAwWyTWTTEjQe78_P_gXAdG/s200/IMG_1455.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636648980679875154" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><--------<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taiyaki">Taiyaki</a>. Cream inside a fish-shaped bread cover is delicious beyond belief. </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjYsN-rGoublHtrI0mAWlcDZMXOvu_PzY8WFpEYHOYijwZ1KtvSMHCp-GRrL62wYod-5pCaSQJ0WQoU3Nl1EWbYR5Ej4dXTKrywLMkXma0kefOdFQ5djOTi371X4Xkc3dFFVI06maOftkG/s1600/IMG_1449.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjYsN-rGoublHtrI0mAWlcDZMXOvu_PzY8WFpEYHOYijwZ1KtvSMHCp-GRrL62wYod-5pCaSQJ0WQoU3Nl1EWbYR5Ej4dXTKrywLMkXma0kefOdFQ5djOTi371X4Xkc3dFFVI06maOftkG/s200/IMG_1449.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636647951649565778" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asakusa">Asakusa</a>, the largest Japanese shrine I have ever been to. <div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwEZUHmYn6hYikcCLxXf8Yfi4rsd25z6lGks_1-bXLsv7NgHTGV8E_SPNnUutPf7wMNlz8WPW7dVNZuSa0K1g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrL7WHfFDb5dI9MVA4W5dP8uCgK3JNTig2xqUxmlB6EZCFNoVSxvhGsFMHhvN-86IDUaOn6lUDqVJt8oa2gQL9gueguxbXA2CZPpU28RlF_6FYJSCj2s59zW_fwBFO6dHAt_5PPXW436nP/s200/IMG_1452.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636648712515181490" /><div><div><br /></div></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwsWy15_Ru913-oycabc4jv903JRJsMcm-Lxq7cEgkj8zUQob0Za1yplaLtVhsezGJ1zOwQ5rACio71PEVhtg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwBYgml0bh4GojUtDev8Wr9qPleqQwMPkKy-osCUtNQ6_HJxTVpPe-D8uHxgl9vOx1DHdfVxJsh_-3y_ptLOA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxUhC3vTJtDJNovLd21oIvw73Z67jHyYE_Dnzjt9OXXvKAzD2-aiBIbN5wCQR2IzFfmPI_eVIxO8_Kk1LHu3g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzfD9_wOtkzInbZCpLZu8eZmpkKNB8TvlABCuP7AmIxUvU2p8JBTaTl5nsILmdRJUdU6gNpM6gjma2chQ_jFQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>So yeah, I'm a liar. You <i>can </i>put up lots of vids on a single post. Whudda thought?!</div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwBISWlKlx_m_hbHWAB3lIGw5xZqdZnRdMKlg1_bbn2L4O_0tpJ_dlaY4tgZdJnBiKE2LXf9ZEZdO1dAA4sGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Shampoo flip flops</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz3tWZu-aGeRzi51uFHqDHDFzZ5OlH_tBpcohDyH4pTB5wsMkcFltaI5VpK0LGulz90Q6TxQsu21WnFvoGFyw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-76397533141812314962011-08-03T07:48:00.001-07:002011-08-03T08:08:26.378-07:00Tokyo, nothing at all like Sendai.So holy crapper dude. Tokyo is like literally 20 times the size of Sendai. Unlike anything I have ever experienced. We never were in an area where at least 100 people were not around us on every side. The buildings are huge and wrap around each other like a confusing maze. The train system is like a nest of snakes wrapped and intertwined with one another. I was really glad I was traveling with Tomo, Amy, and Nate. <div>So thoughts that I have...Basically, writing is boring and I would assume that you probably think the same. You're probably bored right now and that's the only reason you're reading this. Your boredom is more dense than reading boredom; therefore, I have gained you as a loyal reader. And I thank you for that. However, vlogs are apparently a thing of the future and although I have no intention and didn't plan on this blog taking up that medium, I happened to take 84 photo and videos with my iPhone today. I'm tired, lazy, and think that my videos and photos are way more interesting than anything I can say, so here goes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our day started off at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shibuya,_Tokyo">Shibuya</a> Train Station, quite possibly the busiest area in all of Japan. The Shibuya crosswalk is pretty sweet! </div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUlBYsBeAKNZMYkM2RUE7S8GqLO_RD4DrWtEpfVZyk_91VAkwaL-bSexGQk8sDm_UPUNipOSPdIkdIFgomlA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Shoot! Blogger will only allow me to post one video at a time. Well, no need to get down. We'll just separate them into separate posts. </div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-10018691025907380652011-08-02T15:47:00.001-07:002011-08-02T16:24:07.450-07:00Another travel, another time to blog<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ_w3nIy7w-6Fk3JtVroBWNpR_Age5rcW7xjiDEWGSCqAuOTc0ejIlODdVEOsC6fiYRQ6aAd3wnS8bkzsE7sNH6ijdnKHkwDrCfnW97oGXdtFS0VqnVl3Y2Gn6Yjrv_fFXYOX_WOm24V4/s1600/IMG_1428.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ_w3nIy7w-6Fk3JtVroBWNpR_Age5rcW7xjiDEWGSCqAuOTc0ejIlODdVEOsC6fiYRQ6aAd3wnS8bkzsE7sNH6ijdnKHkwDrCfnW97oGXdtFS0VqnVl3Y2Gn6Yjrv_fFXYOX_WOm24V4/s320/IMG_1428.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636403338129747378" /></a>Melon cream soda. The best!!<br /><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwyijP7PF-uerLyZhZ6avpFp1oC6lXzztoqyL_k5qi6JV_86JaWvL68hlSFsrTKkfysjfpgK9SAWjMIbjQuuQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>This morning, I was awoken to the loud cry of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada">cicada bugs</a>. I haven't heard that sound in a long time. I rolled out of my futon onto the tatami mat of the Takabori's house. Dang it feels good to be in Japan, again.<div>Yesterday's travels all went smoothly. At LAX, I had about 5 hours before my flight took off. It was a long time to wait and my nerves were grinding at me. I have never been the greatest flyer, and having all that time to sit in the airport just made me think about all the things that could go wrong. I talked to my sister, Alyssa; she gave me the necessary "slap" in the face that I needed. </div><div>On the flight, I watched a few movies, read some of my book, and took a nap. Before I knew it, we were about an hour from Tokyo. Crisis averted. Usually, long flights kill me. I just get so uncomfortable. This 11 hour flight wasn't bad. </div><div>There was a really chill Japanese woman sitting next to me named Yuko. I really said only about 2 or 3 sentences to her. That was enough to play my gaijin (foreigner) card and she was impressed by my innccccredible ability to speak Japanese. After the flight, she came up to me and we chatted briefly about my trip. She asked if I was going to Kyoto and I said that I am planning on it. Out of the blue, she asked it I would stay at her house. I was like "YEAH!" Sweet! free place to stay in Kyoto. Score. She seemed pretty genuine. Not like a creeper. But we'll see. Let you know how that goes when I cross that bridge. </div><div>After getting raped by how weak the dollar is at the currency exchange counter, I walked outside and breathed in the fresh, humid, japanese air. Felt good. I walked around for about 15 minutes just soaking in the Japanese-ey feel of everything. People speaking Japanese around me, the signs, and everything created this refreshing feeling. Like coming back to your hometown. So many incredible memories were created here. It is kind of like my second home, I guess.</div><div>I took a bus to Tama Plaza where Amy's Mom, who is one super rad woman, met me. We picked up Amy on the way and headed back home. As soon as I stepped in their home, I felt that refreshing feeling once again. The smell of a Japanese home and their tatami mats, the taking off of the shoes at the genkan. So great. </div><div>So, I'm in Japan everyone. and it is one beautiful place to be. I love you all. Hope you're doing well. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-23286622903068866782010-07-26T05:30:00.000-07:002010-08-03T14:40:26.357-07:00India-Day 47-Final DayHere we are. My final day in India. It has turned out to be a great adventure. An experience of a lifetime, indeed. I have seen things that I never before even thought about. India is a magnificent place with so much majesty and wonder. I have thought a lot about what I have learned and felt here. And although I will never be able to express feelings into as detailed descriptions as I would like, I will attempt to summarize what this trip has meant to me. <div><br /></div><div>1) It has been said too often: "Don't sweat the small stuff." When one is to ask what is "the small stuff", a common answer is "everything". Truly, I have felt this valuable lesson hold true in India. I felt it most as I worked with spiritual men like Jemal and Jaidara. Both of them are great men who have taken on the oaths to become monks. As I worked with them and the many other monks at the Ananda Ashram of Pune, I felt that life seemed more simple than it usually does. Truly, what in life is worth stressing or worrying about? Nothing. Frequently, we get so bothered by the small things that we must do everyday. Or frequently, is it not true that we get so impatient with others around us? Why? Truly, it's not worth it. The monks frequently must have disagreed with our methods of working or acting, but there was never a time when they ridiculed. They allowed us our own freedoms to try things, mess up, and then try them again. Meanwhile, they were always there to help. I just thought about how different this is from myself. If I am working with someone who knows little about a project we are working on, I all to often decide to do it myself, rather than teach them. I get annoyed at how slow they work. I know I have done this on film sets many times, when the fact is that we are all beginners at some point in our lives. We have no reason to get annoyed with that person who can't seem to figure out how to get it just right. Anger is never justified. Again, a valuable lesson from the monks. </div><div><br /></div><div>2) I feel I learned a lot about spirituality in a different sense than I have ever thought of. I learned that we are all on a path of spirituality. This path began when we were born and continues even after we die. On this path, every human soul is striving at different rates. Some try harder and succeed more at become spiritual. Some don't have that spiritual drive, and don't excel towards God as much as others. </div><div>The amazing thing that I felt as I thought a lot about spirituality is the way that God works with every person, despite religion, culture, or race. Here I am in a country where the idea of God is absolutely different from the idea of God that I hold. But does that make them any less spiritual than myself? Absolutely not. There are saints, monks, priests, pastors, bishops of all religions who are doing everything in the power to follow God, which in all honesty, is more than I can say that I am doing. I am no heretic, you see, but I would say that there are people who are, on their own spiritual path, making greater strides toward God than I am. I would not say this is a form of righteousness versus unrighteousness, but rather working toward a common goal at your own pace. I know with all my heart that God loves each of his children. Hindu, Christian, Muslim, Jew, Agnostic, or whatever other belief we hold to, God works with us each the same and wants us to be happy all the same. I learned that we really are all the same.</div><div>3) No matter how much money we choose to give, it will never be as valuable as time. When I was en route to India, I got to thinking about what it was that I was going to do. I thought about how I wanted to help the people of India. A thought came over my mind that left me feeling more selfish and self-satisfying than I had thought I was before I left. The thought was that here I am, not a rich man, but a fortunate man. I was spending about $2000 of mine and my parents' money to fly over to India to have an experience of a lifetime. "Was I really doing it for the people or was I doing it for myself?" I began to think. If I was truly going for the sole fact of helping the people, why would I have not just donated all that money. Wouldn't that help them out better anyway? This thought taunted me often while in India until I started to get to know the people. I saw them for what they truly desired: love. In America, we are rich. In comparison to the rest of the world, we are millionaires. I thought about this, and I thought about why can't we just be happy? We never go without. We always have food on our plates, clothes on our backs, and a shelter to sleep in. Yet, there are so many people in America who are truly not happy. They are deprived of love. That same love that people in India desire. I saw this as I played with the children in the village that one day. Seeing them smile and run around made me realize that the time I was sharing with them, the feelings of love shared between us was more valuable than anything I could ever ask for. I will never be able to forget the little baby's face as she held onto my hands trying to walk or the boy who followed me around with bare feet in the mud playing soccer. Or the smile of the kids as we shared a piece of candy with them. They had nothing, yet had something so desirable, it left me yearning for more. I did not want to leave and as I think about life in America, it saddens me that experience like that are few and far between. I could have given that village the $2000 I spent to go to India, but would it have really improved their lives? Some people may still not be convinced, but I firmly believe that it would not have. For a short period of time, would they be able to enjoy certain pleasures that we have in America, but such things are temporary and not long-lasting. And I fear that such things would cause them to forget the truly joyous things that are found in their simple lifestyle. I learned, once again, that all the money in the world won't provide for your happiness. Spending time with someone nice who smiles and is willing to share a laugh will provide through life. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess those are 3 main points I just wanted to hit on. The thoughts, as always, are unorganized and weak, but they are comfortable for me. I enjoy expression through words and thought. I only wish I was more skillful at it. India was amazing. I don't know if this will be my last post or not. But should it be, stay tuned. This blog won't end. Although this journey has ended, there will be another one beginning. For life is not about the destination. It's about the journey. I love you all. Thanks for reading. <i>Namaste. </i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-17377616745028850892010-07-23T22:46:00.000-07:002010-07-24T10:56:45.203-07:00India-Day 44Last week, I learned that the Fifa World Cup is the biggest scam ever. In many countries, the media is completely monopolized and controlled by one person or one group of people. In Spain, for example, a certain mob boss controls 98% of the nation's media and is able to raise morale within the country. With an unemployment rate of 20% and an economy that is in the hole, Spain made a great contestant to win the world cup. Even on the national level, the amount of influence this mob boss has extends even as far as CNN to where they predicted Spain and the Netherlands to win far before the finals or even the semi-finals were decided. Even in the advertising during the world cup, billions of dollars went to the advertising of Spanish tourism. In international newspapers and television media, there were all sorts of ads selling Spain. And here's the clincher...anyone who watched the World Cup probably saw some pretty atrocious calls by the refs. The games were fixed from the beginning. The winners were decided and refs were paid off in order to ensure that those teams one. Indeed, quite the conspiracy. The important point being: America never had a shot from the beginning. They were doomed to lose. <div>So, do you believe all that? Personally, I don't, but a crazy Dutch man I met who hates the Holland team does. But he only hates them because they're in on the entire thing. He was a really cool guy. Genius. Pure genius. He spoke like 7 languages, and he is doing a dutch radio show here in India on spirituality. So, we got interviewed by him, being that we are foreigners and have had the wonderful privilege to experience a pilgrimage of sorts while here in India. It was an interesting interview, but pretty fun. </div><div>Bangalore is such a beautiful town. I have enjoyed being here far more than any of the other cities I have been in. We took a train in from Nagpur on Wednesday. Napur was a good halfway point between Bangalore and Delhi. And Kartik had to stop so he could give a presentation on renewable energy. The city has recently had some major coal plants wanting to come in. India, in a progressive sense, is attempting, like the rest of the world, to move towards renewable energy in the form of mainly solar and wind. Kartik shared in a media press release the benefits environmentally, as well as economically, of going green. While we were sitting in this press release, they actually had us, "The American visitors" stand up. Then, they had us walk to the front of the room, where they welcomed us by giving us a floral arrangement. It was really random, but nice of them. </div><div>Nagpur is a really cool city, but small by Indian standards. Really well known for oranges, or so we were told. I was really upset that we couldn't eat any. Unfortunately, they're not in season right now, so it was quite the bummer. We got to see some of the city. We went to a museum, which was really neat. All sorts of statues and art from anywhere between the 1 century and the 15th century. So rad. </div><div>So, we left Nagpur after only a day. We left and went to Bangalore. The trip to Bangalore was really uncomfortable. Although we were in a sleeper car, we arrived so late that everyone else had their luggage already under the seats stored. So, we couldn't really fit our luggage and theirs. This meant that I had to sleep with my luggage, so I basically set it on the bed and then snaked my body around each piece and slept there. It wasn't at all comfortable, but it was a bed, nonetheless. We finally arrived in Bangalore around 9 PM on Wednesday night.</div><div>Then came 2 days of Indian wedding madness. Such an extravagant event. It was really cool. Every ritual that they did had really significant meaning. For example, they have a ritual where the groom pretends to leave the bride. He decides that he actually doesn't want to get married. Then, the bride's father and brother try to convince him to not leave the wedding and to push through with the marriage. I don't exactly understand the meaning in all this, but it's really magnificent. The morning of the second day, the groom comes to the marriage with a parade of people. Everyone is dancing and celebrating. Unfortunately, we slept in for that part so we didn't get to see the grand procession. Nevertheless, it was quite the remarkable experience.</div><div>So the wedding was for Akeila and Vivek. Akeila is Ashok and Krishna's cousin. In India, basically anyone is invited to the wedding. If you are friends with someone who is going, you probably should go too. Basically, that qualified us. But everyone at the wedding was really nice. They welcomed us with warm hearts and delicious food. THE FOOD WAS AMAZING! Our plates were banana leaves and we ate with only our hands. The craziest wedding food I've ever had! But everything was so delicious. And it was all you can eat. I ate until I could really not put any more food in my mouth. It was awesome. Agh. I can't even describe it. I wish that you could have been there. </div><div>Overall impression for an Indian wedding: amazing. Probably too amazing for me. I could not imagine putting on a 3 day extraveganza for everyone. Seems too stressful.</div><div>Anyway, things are going well. I have recently fallen in love with butterscotch ice cream and Bangalore. It is such a nice city. Today, we went around to see some sights. We saw the capitol building and a really rad palace that belonged to some king. More like a governor, I suppose. It was really lidgit. </div><div>I am leaving on Monday night. That's crazy. It's going to be so bizarre to be in America again. I have become so used to India. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-45966879988884928712010-07-17T00:00:00.001-07:002010-07-22T11:19:31.582-07:00India-Day 37My time here in India is coming into the final ten days. I don't know why but time periods in the form of 10 days are so much easier to me than saying weeks. I always feel like when the 10 day mark hits, things get serious. I feel that I am actually moving on to something in a short time. <div>I must say, India has treated me well. So many amazing, magnificent things that I have been able to see and experience. Truly, it has been the opportunity of a lifetime. I feel like I have learned so much about people, myself, and the path of spirituality that people from all races take in order to follow God. Truly magnificent. </div><div>So, I'm in Dheli. It's a very crowded city. One of the most densely populated city in the world (according to wikipedia). <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dehli">Delhi</a> is really rich in history. Well, I guess all of India is rich with history. Everywhere you go, there's something to be seen. But, Dheli is the place where Ghandi was killed. 3 or 4 hours away is Agra, the location of the Taj Mahal. There are several religious sites. I have learned that the farther North you seem to come, the more Muslims there seem to be. We went to a Hindu temple yesterday and right next door there was this Muslim mosque. To Kartik, this was very very surprising. There has always been so much turmoil between the Hindu and the Muslims that to coincide is really difficult, or so it seems.</div><div>We left Pune on Monday by train. The train was an experience, in itself. As we were driving to the train station, our car got a flat tire. We were running on a little bit of a time crunch, so we changed the tire super quick and went on our way to the station. Traffic was pretty bad, but we were able to make it on time. Not only on time, but we were early. Apparently, the trains in India are about as reliable not nearly as reliable as Japan. In Japan, I could time the train down to 30 seconds. India...it was a different story. The train was running an hour late. There was confusion over this because Rahm and Kartik thought that the train was leaving from Pune. There should have been no other stops before it. So the fact that it was late seemed odd. Anyway, we hung out for a little bit at the train station, then made our way over to the platform with all our luggage. Loading the train was such a hassle. We have seriously more luggage than I think stuff that I own in total. Huge bags that wouldn't even fit under the seats or in the aisle caused lots of frustration between us and some of the other passengers. However, we finally got everything on, and moments later, the train departed around 6:00 or so. </div><div>So trains, I found, are really nothing too exciting. We were in the air conditioned compartment which was nice, but I think it made me sick! I've had a sore throat and cold-like symptoms ever since. I am pretty sure my body is so used to the heat that being cold like that affected me drastically. But yeah, I basically just hung out until about 10:00, cuddled up in my little cot, and then went to sleep. The cots are so small. My feel were sticking out into the aisle the entire night, unless I pulled my knees toward my chest. I slept decently, to say the least. I mean, what can you expect. All I can say is that it wasn't the worse sleep I have ever had. I have definitely slept a lot worse. </div><div>The next day was nice. Our train wasn't set to arrive until about 9 PM that night. So I took almost the entire day to read <i>1984. </i>Fabulous book. I read it in high school, but didn't remember anything at all, so I read it again. It was great. </div><div>We arrived in Delhi and took 2 taxis to get to the place where we were staying, which is a house owned by Ananda. </div><div>We then took a bus to Agra where we saw the famous Taj Mahal. Honestly speaking, it was spectacular but not as amazing as some of the other things I have seen. I really liked it though. </div><div>After that nothing really went down. We are still chilling in Delhi. We have just been relaxing because it's so hot. We have gone to the mall to buy kurtas (traditional Indian formal clothing) for the wedding. Also, we saw the movie <i>Inception.</i> Seriously such a great movie. It was amazing. I highly suggest every one of you should go check it out. Anyway, I need to go to bed. Good night. We're heading off for Bangalore tomorrow. That should be a trip. I'll let you know how it goes. Namaste. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-50705507923832499352010-07-12T06:25:00.000-07:002010-07-13T01:25:57.986-07:00India-Some more pictures<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Here are some great pictures from my trip. So that you understand a little bit about what the pictures are, you should read my post before this one. Love you</span></span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN2M03vsO-WY4Q-0xWk5bEnCG9ngqXgWiv1_NeWqLUGxL1Zy2uXBF3LtPkRVxbbyk_LhtBGl03S9p_qH9GlHLLNonwsm_huNMJiDS41w_0NwxpCTPT9krllNfffQM9R_EeTdMN4cKvLOd/s1600/IMG_0548.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN2M03vsO-WY4Q-0xWk5bEnCG9ngqXgWiv1_NeWqLUGxL1Zy2uXBF3LtPkRVxbbyk_LhtBGl03S9p_qH9GlHLLNonwsm_huNMJiDS41w_0NwxpCTPT9krllNfffQM9R_EeTdMN4cKvLOd/s320/IMG_0548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493063229102447554" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The caves at Ajunta. You can't really see it, but this is me standing on top of the mountain overlooking the canyon, river, and caves. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSP_7ZyIoZVkPuD-H0KT_0q7nhudyQ20hqCuv2ixx_5aByDrQGuMvjRVYLWFvQKA79vFCVkM098_4FccoYjdAKGHSHDBpHiRpnyKToayH8yGk3Y55qoyVpOz9sl0ckaPF2BnUec-GBo7b/s1600/IMG_0547.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSP_7ZyIoZVkPuD-H0KT_0q7nhudyQ20hqCuv2ixx_5aByDrQGuMvjRVYLWFvQKA79vFCVkM098_4FccoYjdAKGHSHDBpHiRpnyKToayH8yGk3Y55qoyVpOz9sl0ckaPF2BnUec-GBo7b/s320/IMG_0547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493062934166540770" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The half-moon of the canyon. You can see the really pretty waterfall. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu17Hq5utseClozzCdvVS6nXk4gTpllChJ7BYDlFrTvEUI6PqhoI4yaVO9U1dBr6CKt0xrLB_R6L9I9RT0OXQfbGoCskJaT1S8MLGBSuZrgoVOfGtsYk0nn9SmVHo8sZCqKuKTBTyzVVx7/s1600/IMG_0545.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu17Hq5utseClozzCdvVS6nXk4gTpllChJ7BYDlFrTvEUI6PqhoI4yaVO9U1dBr6CKt0xrLB_R6L9I9RT0OXQfbGoCskJaT1S8MLGBSuZrgoVOfGtsYk0nn9SmVHo8sZCqKuKTBTyzVVx7/s320/IMG_0545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493062679569151266" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Inside the canyon. This pictures was taken from the bridge crossing the water. You can see the caves in the distance. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAb8-084Jht1YgD3aQx2j43IMHgwkc0BA7QXZRQeRcRJHY6C5P5asrrBR5Hsrum7MXAIIz4e02LLPDyC3-DuCvZfB_Nx6NpRsnNOLpnZBuKU6_s0Stm11VncmsAs6gteCHh4UxSfheayT/s1600/IMG_0544.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAb8-084Jht1YgD3aQx2j43IMHgwkc0BA7QXZRQeRcRJHY6C5P5asrrBR5Hsrum7MXAIIz4e02LLPDyC3-DuCvZfB_Nx6NpRsnNOLpnZBuKU6_s0Stm11VncmsAs6gteCHh4UxSfheayT/s320/IMG_0544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493062403491830930" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I told Jaidara that I would catch him meditating. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DHcvAppFDuGgdXLA4kC5wtck9_fSSHy3lkh4huLtYDy61lVREgOkznpAW2IPT1fRMYNmseHoh5BJdfL7v7s6ieL3O_hn4FEJXuc8BD4pOSkXFfniziJ2_W3ZKYfXPribte20pwY1f5Nq/s1600/IMG_0539.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DHcvAppFDuGgdXLA4kC5wtck9_fSSHy3lkh4huLtYDy61lVREgOkznpAW2IPT1fRMYNmseHoh5BJdfL7v7s6ieL3O_hn4FEJXuc8BD4pOSkXFfniziJ2_W3ZKYfXPribte20pwY1f5Nq/s320/IMG_0539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493062120873950530" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Caves at Ajunta</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEADMti6bOu1yN4H4W1bruSBSwAD8omYKcmP_LNdz8CyNvsVRNCzWAhUuh52ZflTIC4DHxDvR-H1LYbV9PVndlgZUShifNB2IyeCld0hk5wcsRqTM17Xwz8OvP1TruKf8kdkSaYT_eLbdA/s1600/IMG_0538.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEADMti6bOu1yN4H4W1bruSBSwAD8omYKcmP_LNdz8CyNvsVRNCzWAhUuh52ZflTIC4DHxDvR-H1LYbV9PVndlgZUShifNB2IyeCld0hk5wcsRqTM17Xwz8OvP1TruKf8kdkSaYT_eLbdA/s320/IMG_0538.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493061882602099234" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The path on the caves at Ajunta</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLQAV_AGAPpLLbPzdNDlG_sQrQkbTrqD3AZf-MVJBw0QlnEcWhbTfArH24W9xXWLNnXVt7pHmQSBoD8S6z04TwnbAaLUMvrXm110kBywbssRfldHIpfW6vUyDkzpDik95i0WV6WP_hHBm/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLQAV_AGAPpLLbPzdNDlG_sQrQkbTrqD3AZf-MVJBw0QlnEcWhbTfArH24W9xXWLNnXVt7pHmQSBoD8S6z04TwnbAaLUMvrXm110kBywbssRfldHIpfW6vUyDkzpDik95i0WV6WP_hHBm/s320/IMG_0526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493061392369075586" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is the inside of the caves with great acoustics. Ajunta. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQgWTssGjQ28zoPrZig5WfOIktYi0QgeU4S7O4DVUlfogNq6hfCuL-35aQu7PBsboRH5Mget3-hTnFj1fiXtgK5hsfjJGWNztDNp5DYbPCnzBHQm_nmO87mC-M71jCLr13XDgW-MgEMp5/s1600/IMG_0512.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQgWTssGjQ28zoPrZig5WfOIktYi0QgeU4S7O4DVUlfogNq6hfCuL-35aQu7PBsboRH5Mget3-hTnFj1fiXtgK5hsfjJGWNztDNp5DYbPCnzBHQm_nmO87mC-M71jCLr13XDgW-MgEMp5/s320/IMG_0512.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493061051509686162" border="0" /></a>Friggin' Monkeys!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboUESPQrOVm_ykf4_95dfZ5oKmTPoUKfudUe_Bni3SeQEAtGmf3dUU5_NYZxCzAwCI4cJJ7niivvWZCxDvE61H-XHmZA3g5Wij7-2lP_mgdLNEK2itMMGNw6gvfVPsM-aq8A-JAZcYygL/s1600/IMG_0509.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboUESPQrOVm_ykf4_95dfZ5oKmTPoUKfudUe_Bni3SeQEAtGmf3dUU5_NYZxCzAwCI4cJJ7niivvWZCxDvE61H-XHmZA3g5Wij7-2lP_mgdLNEK2itMMGNw6gvfVPsM-aq8A-JAZcYygL/s320/IMG_0509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493060789827054194" border="0" /></a>You can't really see but there is giant statue of Buddha and a round acoustical room.<br />Ajunta.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIfRn0Sd6AU_ZtUu6cvTKj3ndVyVegRJipPP4YMeyxGVuoZZbb8ph5wUUQAw7ICHEGcpGngrZaGGnKzDNAQ3Fj2PsArRcNao928xgVWrXrUH2FwFw1bW7FvMWQKEjSaXLvEQqAMlaTLrO/s1600/IMG_0508.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIfRn0Sd6AU_ZtUu6cvTKj3ndVyVegRJipPP4YMeyxGVuoZZbb8ph5wUUQAw7ICHEGcpGngrZaGGnKzDNAQ3Fj2PsArRcNao928xgVWrXrUH2FwFw1bW7FvMWQKEjSaXLvEQqAMlaTLrO/s320/IMG_0508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493060509657414514" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The outside of another cave at Ajunta</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgztPJvuCQli4wHvElLfqYPHplmjvmAD-4IxQqGve8_NxsUyFiaD_uJwfLQ5O3LynWoJ7hKwJih5t6THu9EashGjCg7f13ucJVnbtNCNLAwRMq22dYyVx_Pf-bC1nnRSYhCdXAV8eJQ39n/s1600/IMG_0501.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgztPJvuCQli4wHvElLfqYPHplmjvmAD-4IxQqGve8_NxsUyFiaD_uJwfLQ5O3LynWoJ7hKwJih5t6THu9EashGjCg7f13ucJVnbtNCNLAwRMq22dYyVx_Pf-bC1nnRSYhCdXAV8eJQ39n/s320/IMG_0501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493060261571141906" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Here we are standing on top of the huge temple that was carved at Ellora. Atop this temple are room with giant towers that extend into the sky. This temple was carved from the top to the bottom over several generations. Each generation passed down the plans in order to assure that the temple was built correctly. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBsgPeudH4BGkxziXvgYH-5VIVzEL4g1GfW_REAEcC3DWMXRZgA_oGWgn3xmvZJ6TldUw8c8LodPqq8uN_DZu7kSPl6lGdyyvY_Lg6c_bwVoAewsDQH__vRmX02yVXAWdo8OXuVzIP4EF/s1600/IMG_0492.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBsgPeudH4BGkxziXvgYH-5VIVzEL4g1GfW_REAEcC3DWMXRZgA_oGWgn3xmvZJ6TldUw8c8LodPqq8uN_DZu7kSPl6lGdyyvY_Lg6c_bwVoAewsDQH__vRmX02yVXAWdo8OXuVzIP4EF/s320/IMG_0492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493059978506195330" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Another shot of the temple at Ellora. This is shot from the ground up.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKzK1_xLn-FsYXTYtGqMvNfv4tXc-Be6uriYdapvj0LEsVY4kjwG2hL7UOp9ktrh3uAuMtDGzoicsSp0wQkebBFmVJGhRgBQ8U3j7T_O9Qkzs1fQw9_LAHpx5zzDWLUwVci1hyb35smfo/s1600/IMG_0484.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKzK1_xLn-FsYXTYtGqMvNfv4tXc-Be6uriYdapvj0LEsVY4kjwG2hL7UOp9ktrh3uAuMtDGzoicsSp0wQkebBFmVJGhRgBQ8U3j7T_O9Qkzs1fQw9_LAHpx5zzDWLUwVci1hyb35smfo/s320/IMG_0484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493059658785246130" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The temple at Ellora. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wlW5Onv_xYS3C75y-gG-5IHMxpLww71IwyzffyLSuGEDiWclf-xi15nqk2fBJ9iG9ro2DkCZxevXLWj-aFYoHu6X4e6_Bo9yTkDkcQCUsKi8m0_hjlUvbvI30Z7UcZiPHAPvN-z0ecno/s1600/IMG_0482.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wlW5Onv_xYS3C75y-gG-5IHMxpLww71IwyzffyLSuGEDiWclf-xi15nqk2fBJ9iG9ro2DkCZxevXLWj-aFYoHu6X4e6_Bo9yTkDkcQCUsKi8m0_hjlUvbvI30Z7UcZiPHAPvN-z0ecno/s320/IMG_0482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493059006886563986" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The temple at Ellora</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGpVAoORjgUDrPYQ-9CFKwtvKSyXyA7Zg0Ja71DJVXB-naCACfn7Gr8WGLBy0TiUYGe4VJILd_dpSnbuX7su0wTdtoIYNWGmC2Z8fF0QmMEYNiDwk3VD3vRPkmaBDYFlB1S_496UuCU7I/s1600/DSCI0288.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGpVAoORjgUDrPYQ-9CFKwtvKSyXyA7Zg0Ja71DJVXB-naCACfn7Gr8WGLBy0TiUYGe4VJILd_dpSnbuX7su0wTdtoIYNWGmC2Z8fF0QmMEYNiDwk3VD3vRPkmaBDYFlB1S_496UuCU7I/s320/DSCI0288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493058716990983314" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We played a lot of soccer at the Ashram where we were staying. This game we played right after a huge rain storm had hit us. It became known as the infamous "Mud bowl" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDkdybUD0kmMzPObH1hMLxvHUfL7TzGR7r-JyUsUKKL4UfH3N5_1J3tZkGvivB6apnqjihdnHIYSop311AwQwr6B91JxBXQYgCpWQajg2t3UXZvtCUBWj9Giz47JOeoJTr2cKXygQEoOo/s1600/DSCI0267.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDkdybUD0kmMzPObH1hMLxvHUfL7TzGR7r-JyUsUKKL4UfH3N5_1J3tZkGvivB6apnqjihdnHIYSop311AwQwr6B91JxBXQYgCpWQajg2t3UXZvtCUBWj9Giz47JOeoJTr2cKXygQEoOo/s320/DSCI0267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493058266995143794" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Vive le futbol</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zTHxi4aPPxIsDyjzPFLXYv74dwwib-uqZwRZIugvDFTXYZEBvxpe-F2EqPY9OirEkrYI7qlj_A0DPm7J6CPiGPw2aJsS4m4TaSI7h10yQcnv5l4Ie3cXcKPMynNdordXJVeN_UI87JAe/s1600/DSCI0262.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zTHxi4aPPxIsDyjzPFLXYv74dwwib-uqZwRZIugvDFTXYZEBvxpe-F2EqPY9OirEkrYI7qlj_A0DPm7J6CPiGPw2aJsS4m4TaSI7h10yQcnv5l4Ie3cXcKPMynNdordXJVeN_UI87JAe/s320/DSCI0262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493057869854736306" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQq-KhBbSGuxgd0irLLwTdcYO4FESYzx75Y-dkvBJD4fVSxhsqjt8nJQ1Kp5vKbYx4OuFXhLnhKC_P44WwpHJeXUx5UMs72xANx1AtZb_B_R8vJ4b7Ic1T-xg_tFGf8UpU7k7p1qtA7Xc/s1600/DSCI0247.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQq-KhBbSGuxgd0irLLwTdcYO4FESYzx75Y-dkvBJD4fVSxhsqjt8nJQ1Kp5vKbYx4OuFXhLnhKC_P44WwpHJeXUx5UMs72xANx1AtZb_B_R8vJ4b7Ic1T-xg_tFGf8UpU7k7p1qtA7Xc/s320/DSCI0247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493057416120937186" border="0" /></a><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuZBdsf-r2PRK-Qz_P09YkzSzsMuq_5DMcc0o6tqk5hHQW5u46tuIIrDzTZg9DnI_dnGtXfEmaiKx1T9dn9FQkquRU4YW2NgPmYqI_zE7dZrSV3dUp8_gCuJOpYdBtr7BGns578wWvubO/s320/India-mud+futbol.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">When it's all said and done, the men with the handprints took the V. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54GfUOmbwyYp64nD8q3gL4Los0pf564aMZFj2qy2jSYFD1I6HslAHb63LO7FbzfPDD0carekCcIsACaaAkaPE-nRz-wUmIUqNxuB6sNQp7qF07wsdN519l_g4SxXIKWamdSU3Z_4LZXaa/s320/100_7674.JPG" /><br />Celebrating a victory</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHnFQ9s6Ace8H9gHPrWnfoFyuzl2S1t7WdFzLiROExnxhyYDiJl_CXzr3wA92Ss8ygtMRumrVR0_9Lmv3qxh9NURlQ1uXsgwEwY2G0j9XKOa63Ze_ASo_hnq0gmHrg0o_ZeprBDp61E0Md/s320/100_7672.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Daisy Dukes- my fav. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0speh11drm60irUV0QUrOIhzVkC1tDs0WybNWVSCPNerBj2PssoLNcwjQ9EHfXy-9tjr2rN-K53o4Oy8UIU8bt0dJq38cs64xZS2bWiEL5nH6s89bWMvara-1LCKOBnlZtiFGhbvmdA7/s1600/100_7771.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0speh11drm60irUV0QUrOIhzVkC1tDs0WybNWVSCPNerBj2PssoLNcwjQ9EHfXy-9tjr2rN-K53o4Oy8UIU8bt0dJq38cs64xZS2bWiEL5nH6s89bWMvara-1LCKOBnlZtiFGhbvmdA7/s320/100_7771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493057054478197074" border="0" /></a>Such a rad awning. It's crazy.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgvg-drW08X0zG6dUAtc089rcEwegzwv2HA46wLg6UCXOXBFSx3gUNW_M0UfQJT9rizPybqLpu4lomtrhdpFppuDrnXgsLMUv8Gx4nlZAYS21WEaX00h-6LnwKoLI7QvbjwWZGtLYqe2m/s1600/100_7769.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgvg-drW08X0zG6dUAtc089rcEwegzwv2HA46wLg6UCXOXBFSx3gUNW_M0UfQJT9rizPybqLpu4lomtrhdpFppuDrnXgsLMUv8Gx4nlZAYS21WEaX00h-6LnwKoLI7QvbjwWZGtLYqe2m/s320/100_7769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493056174858127826" border="0" /></a>The intricate detail of every inch of the Ajunta caves. This is a step.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggqrPuGdTAO9fH7-tLpmlrzgWdvf5m_4lKW9UOFajZDkLKv_AcdzNZbkt2_dGEHNd36oWCc3yGOgA4XSrz0ZUWRAwoXLoXP0Nk14uBv_-7s-a1ERhntHn2-eQhkqOSiPT4xw7_4T07UxPu/s1600/100_7762.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggqrPuGdTAO9fH7-tLpmlrzgWdvf5m_4lKW9UOFajZDkLKv_AcdzNZbkt2_dGEHNd36oWCc3yGOgA4XSrz0ZUWRAwoXLoXP0Nk14uBv_-7s-a1ERhntHn2-eQhkqOSiPT4xw7_4T07UxPu/s320/100_7762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493055723397037330" border="0" /></a>The man. El Sergio, the Godfather. Not really. He's a rad 23 year old monk.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUljaCnoup1LX-yfc0Ry8tw8WKjAz66aWdpK4A-EW5qVSr4D9G7EmA3RLy24Uk0ge271A8Pjv2nqJvmKXl2vp089MV86OCFVBKu8xO_liePT_Zy5x5cp0dKGNrgmBVlJy5TKuWHLW2bJcb/s1600/100_7757.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUljaCnoup1LX-yfc0Ry8tw8WKjAz66aWdpK4A-EW5qVSr4D9G7EmA3RLy24Uk0ge271A8Pjv2nqJvmKXl2vp089MV86OCFVBKu8xO_liePT_Zy5x5cp0dKGNrgmBVlJy5TKuWHLW2bJcb/s320/100_7757.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493054169650144562" border="0" /></a>Krishna and I<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IhBSqF4zpL_VTyZLejbElGfW9bXPIcCHnJM5aadZs_0AolJqjCJxwqHHS7H71ZpGnbX7vacAuxrTO3FRZbgViLWjgK7M9zqAUwPJftxaaXwieXD1r54E0ppfaYwLJ9cmb1O29_Il9Hlz/s1600/100_7752.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IhBSqF4zpL_VTyZLejbElGfW9bXPIcCHnJM5aadZs_0AolJqjCJxwqHHS7H71ZpGnbX7vacAuxrTO3FRZbgViLWjgK7M9zqAUwPJftxaaXwieXD1r54E0ppfaYwLJ9cmb1O29_Il9Hlz/s320/100_7752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493052491472776850" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Shot outside of another temple at Ajunta</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9AiV94oigS5fE_7Uv4W-s6xEATpCq-ry07zOp_kia1Es138jKMizuMFWQsjkVf0BObWAoyGQjbpRRfMSGhCrYvAzCa69MQepGxg0g4661ESF20bp7REelaWHUojX4QhrMDw-9K_q2UbA/s1600/100_7750.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9AiV94oigS5fE_7Uv4W-s6xEATpCq-ry07zOp_kia1Es138jKMizuMFWQsjkVf0BObWAoyGQjbpRRfMSGhCrYvAzCa69MQepGxg0g4661ESF20bp7REelaWHUojX4QhrMDw-9K_q2UbA/s320/100_7750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493051538260111122" border="0" /></a>Each detail is so fine.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDTUAUjphUdFWx21Re46L1kMXZ0AUoY2ydSs-Hrtm_iFwc_xiwuiOUYOIkzl3jBwDYGny9L6X3O7D39KMbEMG0NWtBbtWKGFrz2lkwpqqSsAbV5I7kMaz6JW80JF0BSmWXbn0ft3IOKxq/s1600/100_7749.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDTUAUjphUdFWx21Re46L1kMXZ0AUoY2ydSs-Hrtm_iFwc_xiwuiOUYOIkzl3jBwDYGny9L6X3O7D39KMbEMG0NWtBbtWKGFrz2lkwpqqSsAbV5I7kMaz6JW80JF0BSmWXbn0ft3IOKxq/s320/100_7749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493050267404138114" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Statues of Buddha and other priests</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0AcVnSpZl5r5rN6R8ZwRVXyxqtkBAAeZQlmHVWDL9rEiWVFjgn3fQ_N93Xt-TyKhGUtoCJN4pVZsEQNaTFN14S07SYG51vIMeTYMFX_lQMqgJA010kjDty4_OmHKkFw5kyO15nkXoSwLT/s1600/100_7739.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0AcVnSpZl5r5rN6R8ZwRVXyxqtkBAAeZQlmHVWDL9rEiWVFjgn3fQ_N93Xt-TyKhGUtoCJN4pVZsEQNaTFN14S07SYG51vIMeTYMFX_lQMqgJA010kjDty4_OmHKkFw5kyO15nkXoSwLT/s320/100_7739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493049156794182498" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One of the tiny monk rooms. "Ohhhmmmmmm"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Kk0OBRQAntFM1nHMTMbGW3d_5rssxyQYuxCbjnGfleMJ9FW0R2y6j8uxyqTzva1Lfk7t6Wd-gVVUWXPaRCDitXo9WIJJdzge2SPsK6eITUmKVRDmqGhwfbcw8dU00fdScyxpsSaZb3bt/s1600/100_7736.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Kk0OBRQAntFM1nHMTMbGW3d_5rssxyQYuxCbjnGfleMJ9FW0R2y6j8uxyqTzva1Lfk7t6Wd-gVVUWXPaRCDitXo9WIJJdzge2SPsK6eITUmKVRDmqGhwfbcw8dU00fdScyxpsSaZb3bt/s320/100_7736.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493047340660630434" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is the temple where the ceiling is painted like a tapestry.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZzAnGhAC1PY4YsDoWPARbhaYxED1GCPi01spo-JC37RksVI_neuYTDL3QkRXDEXPttoQ43xoE_0cfhvmrTyHzS9wK8VtIOerPKHwAzVDiIvkWJEJhlQH1F0cvGQ2EBfyv8fXKUOt9GTC/s1600/100_7734.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZzAnGhAC1PY4YsDoWPARbhaYxED1GCPi01spo-JC37RksVI_neuYTDL3QkRXDEXPttoQ43xoE_0cfhvmrTyHzS9wK8VtIOerPKHwAzVDiIvkWJEJhlQH1F0cvGQ2EBfyv8fXKUOt9GTC/s320/100_7734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493046885823595394" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Ashok and some hottie</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxYUS9O84Hw_oaE0baECoBUWCTKsGiNco3B6k132Zz88lEjKBJ3ARsfTTOWrU6_8k3k1uFSoYrPcD-z1En3GlZnd78GWYtFqVnRx7nz6rn1u4nMWrCGKb7Cb-NxSXBtFyCOvMOOddPPAD/s1600/100_7724.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxYUS9O84Hw_oaE0baECoBUWCTKsGiNco3B6k132Zz88lEjKBJ3ARsfTTOWrU6_8k3k1uFSoYrPcD-z1En3GlZnd78GWYtFqVnRx7nz6rn1u4nMWrCGKb7Cb-NxSXBtFyCOvMOOddPPAD/s320/100_7724.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493045693499413570" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Buddha</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeFOsbhJc1aAZ1MarJlX4V2i91RVb34kbX77HX3KqKvSxcSpxX-y3mn8T1BHyEu5hElDcqD-vmRRXpacnRgdr3JKvRvx8SHkrXbHI69D39YbGACzE_yVvz1NSqYLdCERr2gKQKLiqzr4M/s1600/100_7720.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeFOsbhJc1aAZ1MarJlX4V2i91RVb34kbX77HX3KqKvSxcSpxX-y3mn8T1BHyEu5hElDcqD-vmRRXpacnRgdr3JKvRvx8SHkrXbHI69D39YbGACzE_yVvz1NSqYLdCERr2gKQKLiqzr4M/s320/100_7720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493044714054740194" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Ridin' like a prince</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOHCi2NCIxtRBT1HO79LmoneSlaV7reL3tc5mmu74nMIL0ht9tfoFA-67GVatDMW71emti6-7UdcSxOc6qGFuyMHHulaxVpMtUwVEt90HbrUGimP3AmX4Mx7Td04vS_WoVQYi9yY37U_M/s1600/100_7718.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOHCi2NCIxtRBT1HO79LmoneSlaV7reL3tc5mmu74nMIL0ht9tfoFA-67GVatDMW71emti6-7UdcSxOc6qGFuyMHHulaxVpMtUwVEt90HbrUGimP3AmX4Mx7Td04vS_WoVQYi9yY37U_M/s320/100_7718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493043188579762194" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Katiani wearing a sick cowboy hat and my shades</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TjBRB2gUKaimkFHOl3jxUJjx1pDOe-NtKA40dm4BhC21xwl13wepoVvvZ9h5ZP_8obDR_PY7FCodMEOZUEkvEYAdRazjh47bXm9_xqK5gadKndWkpn1CGmkGXXnq5xUbOWdk6CwnLzMw/s1600/100_7717.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TjBRB2gUKaimkFHOl3jxUJjx1pDOe-NtKA40dm4BhC21xwl13wepoVvvZ9h5ZP_8obDR_PY7FCodMEOZUEkvEYAdRazjh47bXm9_xqK5gadKndWkpn1CGmkGXXnq5xUbOWdk6CwnLzMw/s320/100_7717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493042627146954514" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">There's a lot of flies in India</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfxmSrrLllEh3dy4fXIJgZtjmkFgVdFWs1QhLH4aE-YSKq1KN5VDDUDzaLo66KdysPlhuxSEzv29Rh1y6t6oZelHeDDp-iYLOj5exMGizzFdjKqf1ItBu3vvS_x0Xw1AppTCOqH7V9DK0/s1600/100_7708.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfxmSrrLllEh3dy4fXIJgZtjmkFgVdFWs1QhLH4aE-YSKq1KN5VDDUDzaLo66KdysPlhuxSEzv29Rh1y6t6oZelHeDDp-iYLOj5exMGizzFdjKqf1ItBu3vvS_x0Xw1AppTCOqH7V9DK0/s320/100_7708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493041980576036898" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Aaron calls the urinals in India "glorified bushes". Except bushes smell better</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgDCo2S9-o-IfeHSbPUkahyRhM5S4XA0CK8B-_U9E_Pfsokcn5TWxClwo45suRtxWhVW_BGPHGxtIuFEEix-kShu67GkZ3rwO9LEPxahlvn061VrjCuJ8u7SKNERWbR73TQ8dvNCgX2pi/s1600/100_7704.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgDCo2S9-o-IfeHSbPUkahyRhM5S4XA0CK8B-_U9E_Pfsokcn5TWxClwo45suRtxWhVW_BGPHGxtIuFEEix-kShu67GkZ3rwO9LEPxahlvn061VrjCuJ8u7SKNERWbR73TQ8dvNCgX2pi/s320/100_7704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493027526414793666" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The temple at Ellora</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1QUfPQmDGjISF6QXK2Om38V8J4_vq2_WZdUkqbYVXcIcjz1fDHdCjmKkS-sXzn-HorA3HKPh09w40gfT6qBzZ6V59kKW1ax1DOwwMng5wiG_724mpXy5F2c46OF9SQWUfvGIfy3MJf5g/s1600/100_7701.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1QUfPQmDGjISF6QXK2Om38V8J4_vq2_WZdUkqbYVXcIcjz1fDHdCjmKkS-sXzn-HorA3HKPh09w40gfT6qBzZ6V59kKW1ax1DOwwMng5wiG_724mpXy5F2c46OF9SQWUfvGIfy3MJf5g/s320/100_7701.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493027184487152530" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The entrance gate to the temple at Ellora</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HiTxrp11jB1n4k34OIpZ8wNY1yNIBjVuO3xzwSA-H48_RLjggFYU6asM_V1s4dTPCFgMq4jspyg7Mii_v-pCXjCpABaIpTO3dVi9gbF8gcGYJiFB0NDMAyXwJsXx0P1dWPQLnFCQdqwn/s1600/100_7699.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HiTxrp11jB1n4k34OIpZ8wNY1yNIBjVuO3xzwSA-H48_RLjggFYU6asM_V1s4dTPCFgMq4jspyg7Mii_v-pCXjCpABaIpTO3dVi9gbF8gcGYJiFB0NDMAyXwJsXx0P1dWPQLnFCQdqwn/s320/100_7699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493026688182294418" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A full shot of the temple at Ellora</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoV3RgRV7aAzukFrbw1PH0bCaFbDL1nKgHKMrtXaa4v_FiK064qhe3yURLgAer4CAkjo8jvXwNdWYl5r_EOb0yQ-CCwwpctXQPblotFMza9HSOghHXTCxtQo0uC2nKTQOPQfbFsA74oM5/s1600/100_7698.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoV3RgRV7aAzukFrbw1PH0bCaFbDL1nKgHKMrtXaa4v_FiK064qhe3yURLgAer4CAkjo8jvXwNdWYl5r_EOb0yQ-CCwwpctXQPblotFMza9HSOghHXTCxtQo0uC2nKTQOPQfbFsA74oM5/s320/100_7698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493026269089895074" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The temple at Ellora</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5mCo-wO3D1Xv96qHQn6SA2AgQxDPO9vLegbjuWoyEQBcv7Ob6CS4BP3LXxxGV0lz7gyxgHaiQE1Vrm3pFVwJtqstjYxGy9F4xFGj44WX-BN9ayx47bwzTD6_aDPZiuAW6704cMrWhrZO/s1600/100_7682.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5mCo-wO3D1Xv96qHQn6SA2AgQxDPO9vLegbjuWoyEQBcv7Ob6CS4BP3LXxxGV0lz7gyxgHaiQE1Vrm3pFVwJtqstjYxGy9F4xFGj44WX-BN9ayx47bwzTD6_aDPZiuAW6704cMrWhrZO/s320/100_7682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493025550305758642" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One day, Tom and I couldn't handle the flies anymore. We went on a killing rampage. 7 flies dead in less than 10 minutes</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfPmv7CZ9Dd_eqBNZV6WMNrVNHYt5URj7ggT5AZau0AVKvAYydhK4FBN6jZR0SsyA-XppegTNxMHHrw4ggFXt-SOkTeOxjy3N8a7IuvX0eWEW_965sUEinL8N7ufExlEjQHVMU69U6IkP/s1600/100_7668.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfPmv7CZ9Dd_eqBNZV6WMNrVNHYt5URj7ggT5AZau0AVKvAYydhK4FBN6jZR0SsyA-XppegTNxMHHrw4ggFXt-SOkTeOxjy3N8a7IuvX0eWEW_965sUEinL8N7ufExlEjQHVMU69U6IkP/s320/100_7668.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493024272177340130" border="0" /></a>Ashweney's Dad<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rB-tFtyS2XuF4A-Ul3DfppliqlKOf1N_8jZSniCpHHljDYEiLJjJAvcg3ZjbnRvoGtUVoE6TXhtTotqGSIk2T5VizmAYhAuciOI__bxwxoTUiutFBpYa9an82HB3TtvR-LFsbosc6Mk6/s1600/100_7661.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rB-tFtyS2XuF4A-Ul3DfppliqlKOf1N_8jZSniCpHHljDYEiLJjJAvcg3ZjbnRvoGtUVoE6TXhtTotqGSIk2T5VizmAYhAuciOI__bxwxoTUiutFBpYa9an82HB3TtvR-LFsbosc6Mk6/s320/100_7661.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493023675487924178" border="0" /></a>Ashweney!!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vsLdvMtpl8tGJSfMQfptgSZnBD_2lku99Z5SO3G3kNJ29ptx-MEgDSohKahAdSG0oh0CuYho-94Z7WDl23YC1K36LilB9qPoONUFsaXiVP6dQmqNt1PRrEqZHQ0OlsH06RL5kFuaB0je/s1600/100_7660.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vsLdvMtpl8tGJSfMQfptgSZnBD_2lku99Z5SO3G3kNJ29ptx-MEgDSohKahAdSG0oh0CuYho-94Z7WDl23YC1K36LilB9qPoONUFsaXiVP6dQmqNt1PRrEqZHQ0OlsH06RL5kFuaB0je/s320/100_7660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493023026908916674" border="0" /></a>A family, out on a Sunday outing, frequently rides scooters. Family size scooters.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQL0zaGSHhlcoaTWph3-2rZjI517FVyblyxORzvVnIezp2poy6BDSIYWPkEV9aJ-OkYh_ZPuJNJ_rRyD908YLOqGsbAiq3SRh1wlOXg2wjz1ZVnHmmorK0-Rs5pLq10Hhpg3533mVulaZ2/s1600/100_7655.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQL0zaGSHhlcoaTWph3-2rZjI517FVyblyxORzvVnIezp2poy6BDSIYWPkEV9aJ-OkYh_ZPuJNJ_rRyD908YLOqGsbAiq3SRh1wlOXg2wjz1ZVnHmmorK0-Rs5pLq10Hhpg3533mVulaZ2/s320/100_7655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493022457854565522" border="0" /></a>The village at the top<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_g97NzKPQh2RX46NIFXsTPgflVnLOJlfW33FbSpdaTal11PG8E16WqLZOxODMZcEspA5x92kKtNPmebiBiIhwnKPW69-6dsnHZcKf7w222Pbj4WlrD4bkdXx-kdB3HptyWLmZ37e4gDg/s1600/100_7652.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_g97NzKPQh2RX46NIFXsTPgflVnLOJlfW33FbSpdaTal11PG8E16WqLZOxODMZcEspA5x92kKtNPmebiBiIhwnKPW69-6dsnHZcKf7w222Pbj4WlrD4bkdXx-kdB3HptyWLmZ37e4gDg/s320/100_7652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493021751553576258" border="0" /></a>Hiking up to the village at the top of the mountain.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdReodM84DNADIXhyphenhyphenEFg8p2NvFr_ZWUmFjSU9Bmdso8DXRX2LOnmED_mYecvv_gKoZFS5TViMkQoyXznKZlrdDdALIAJfKOwh8ra92VdtRticN6ey49uJ0HHSGLHzF1vOLhyphenhyphenFF25ybdHhG/s1600/100_7616.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdReodM84DNADIXhyphenhyphenEFg8p2NvFr_ZWUmFjSU9Bmdso8DXRX2LOnmED_mYecvv_gKoZFS5TViMkQoyXznKZlrdDdALIAJfKOwh8ra92VdtRticN6ey49uJ0HHSGLHzF1vOLhyphenhyphenFF25ybdHhG/s320/100_7616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493021270272626066" border="0" /></a><br />The crew. Not everyone, but Krishna, Jaidara, Tom, Aditiya, Ashok, and Aaron<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRzgtm1Wn7A_NiQqIi-GN1jQ63R8Cf7Zik6XmxNqUt6U6AKw60RB2m_TCXg1k0s4N0hDFLIMhUq_IYYmh3xYU6P51dKE5zh43sCqAWylgTslhbQIpo_s0__0bn9fJiCbjQK_-s4oJDzy-/s1600/100_7603.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRzgtm1Wn7A_NiQqIi-GN1jQ63R8Cf7Zik6XmxNqUt6U6AKw60RB2m_TCXg1k0s4N0hDFLIMhUq_IYYmh3xYU6P51dKE5zh43sCqAWylgTslhbQIpo_s0__0bn9fJiCbjQK_-s4oJDzy-/s320/100_7603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493020461599051986" border="0" /></a>A frog chillin in the banana trees.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy14RO_26vFEhPX3x4H5uLN1ArasNU32_k-QwFcyQNi8vH_WcQoHTq7XuVE3OLv8I06toav6pJTy0lzZ4GkQXpXpraAeojvfFVTLmUEkbekRwvW7gtjQ7rimd6xVEGwuib7zY5Ahz6EULg/s1600/100_7598.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy14RO_26vFEhPX3x4H5uLN1ArasNU32_k-QwFcyQNi8vH_WcQoHTq7XuVE3OLv8I06toav6pJTy0lzZ4GkQXpXpraAeojvfFVTLmUEkbekRwvW7gtjQ7rimd6xVEGwuib7zY5Ahz6EULg/s320/100_7598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493019360929311506" border="0" /></a>Workin' it.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqeD5IlWSkKvbh9xd2dClbJyuYhiQwVMoOx60peBtLiQoKF6arvIO7akqwH7djdDfKZjNoXf202bj1pLp6mlnjOr0IdI0exJ_ikQpkh3gC1FzQahwfEaKLI1uq0cebaiw8qll8bAv-LlE/s1600/100_7594.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqeD5IlWSkKvbh9xd2dClbJyuYhiQwVMoOx60peBtLiQoKF6arvIO7akqwH7djdDfKZjNoXf202bj1pLp6mlnjOr0IdI0exJ_ikQpkh3gC1FzQahwfEaKLI1uq0cebaiw8qll8bAv-LlE/s320/100_7594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493019053202538290" border="0" /></a>Ashweney, the cute next-door girl.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjloPY_Hh2cMa8CQ-CkFqlx3FdPNwmSM3x9ve1VwKuo50s23kNRCNwTEwUkA-PBs9ZaQdT7JjOXF3qRACxbjiY08ODX28SIvEw2FcmFyEgHG4MsA4KoGzeEmq_Zym5Q16R8pvZ0JV70k4/s1600/100_7593.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjloPY_Hh2cMa8CQ-CkFqlx3FdPNwmSM3x9ve1VwKuo50s23kNRCNwTEwUkA-PBs9ZaQdT7JjOXF3qRACxbjiY08ODX28SIvEw2FcmFyEgHG4MsA4KoGzeEmq_Zym5Q16R8pvZ0JV70k4/s320/100_7593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493018620455796578" border="0" /></a>Ashok and I building a rack for the solar panels.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZXdjryuevAhX0jJve-sMjLLbtGyOEvPJ6FrUGEXXaMoGOszizZcxxFt-rKoaLrRYNn6q5NVEGN2Ih6OeIjd3nUupmxqr_M6-y5s8aG4t26rUCXuqr1iJ51za-KebhIN7IxSfKh3dUwoE/s1600/100_7589.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZXdjryuevAhX0jJve-sMjLLbtGyOEvPJ6FrUGEXXaMoGOszizZcxxFt-rKoaLrRYNn6q5NVEGN2Ih6OeIjd3nUupmxqr_M6-y5s8aG4t26rUCXuqr1iJ51za-KebhIN7IxSfKh3dUwoE/s320/100_7589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493017910901718322" border="0" /></a>The group meditating at a sweet temple.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKxd7pWiH_NwZHLw2mbWr60NVv9jSd3Z3m69wEzE8kOy8I1PpTviRWtnShdd_X1aV2aDbJDh2r-18xEOF0LiWlX29ETmtBOuvJfFkioBibJWIH8L30YA4J8J4f2hERgFMaa_wmlVAzkPx/s1600/100_7588.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKxd7pWiH_NwZHLw2mbWr60NVv9jSd3Z3m69wEzE8kOy8I1PpTviRWtnShdd_X1aV2aDbJDh2r-18xEOF0LiWlX29ETmtBOuvJfFkioBibJWIH8L30YA4J8J4f2hERgFMaa_wmlVAzkPx/s320/100_7588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493017588203130018" border="0" /></a>An actual Indian camel!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhzyli01mKN32cZPNHRilTxGkXUpd6pDLaC8-KS_tcSIUV5Ky3nXB3zqJS6WJW0Mwlsz2X6t2fLxY5gl6hQhM1Y68vDVtnaTSVXP6gEbunawlbWEBVO7OVWx2dx57cELc-RVpUzjzLAh2/s1600/100_7503.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsN7j1upg69dUKmXECypdUZ5p5QZ69ASLDRoK5Ur_SssAbl8i5Rz-58s7kfWckffO5tptEVuVGHIBmxEOekIezy5ukWDvWdO-Cg5gNO7uCUILFwRn7toH6BTrzrcmi_f_4AFQKgoAbmnA/s1600/100_7575.JPG"><br /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIdNOcqR-7LvQgNplmM23Ls0MENtaeVnDsUC0dLb_fwgjRNFpiStO6YBbPhHk56dS2ex_B8WWwuKNXAdZu-tDdCq5T6kmGG38Vq-i7s9RTuSQZj8c-eW3-XpEndLHm7M1pNM4nAJNR8gw/s1600/100_7568.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIdNOcqR-7LvQgNplmM23Ls0MENtaeVnDsUC0dLb_fwgjRNFpiStO6YBbPhHk56dS2ex_B8WWwuKNXAdZu-tDdCq5T6kmGG38Vq-i7s9RTuSQZj8c-eW3-XpEndLHm7M1pNM4nAJNR8gw/s320/100_7568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493015613729117778" border="0" /></a>Ashok and Aaron<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ASyJjUTmOlcLKQSUcHmRdHT4kazYDnPanDaGTHnOknxStnHTTo4k2rH0UhX6fmXm4UtmbOUCSlBHZ7ARwBGm61vxbExwX6rU3GM_VqfftT6pYoj6_Kx-rCVnJQ7kUybaDLi8gpouS4iX/s1600/100_7558.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ASyJjUTmOlcLKQSUcHmRdHT4kazYDnPanDaGTHnOknxStnHTTo4k2rH0UhX6fmXm4UtmbOUCSlBHZ7ARwBGm61vxbExwX6rU3GM_VqfftT6pYoj6_Kx-rCVnJQ7kUybaDLi8gpouS4iX/s320/100_7558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493015131211933458" border="0" /></a>A rad temple we went to some weeks back. It was right on the edge of a mountain.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7flM1lxILjtT2WuiZyE2CdyT8Q82hp4UKri0nH4kxanpKFR4K4rvZxfnLgly8z4mWbVSxyArnA8I_7WAkUYwyvmvIw7reAK_wN1rZwiemo6_dYwESBGc_1ppra1Ly4d8aR0z8nvk17mSy/s1600/100_7555.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7flM1lxILjtT2WuiZyE2CdyT8Q82hp4UKri0nH4kxanpKFR4K4rvZxfnLgly8z4mWbVSxyArnA8I_7WAkUYwyvmvIw7reAK_wN1rZwiemo6_dYwESBGc_1ppra1Ly4d8aR0z8nvk17mSy/s320/100_7555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493014767609435570" border="0" /></a>A local man selling corn on the cob.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1uYM7Sh5ZgoxmmkixRQc9hGyx1nTXuvcMACjUAMJK5WiPe1bR3nYJCz9rPdDqdVpIYEzm3_k2MDhdHP1mNHZAAGrdyZI4GMcnYPi9KTHe-WBvej-Z3VW_ML5HYn1FSYrSByiHHHQYASk/s1600/100_7554.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1uYM7Sh5ZgoxmmkixRQc9hGyx1nTXuvcMACjUAMJK5WiPe1bR3nYJCz9rPdDqdVpIYEzm3_k2MDhdHP1mNHZAAGrdyZI4GMcnYPi9KTHe-WBvej-Z3VW_ML5HYn1FSYrSByiHHHQYASk/s320/100_7554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493014269317024082" border="0" /></a>The site where Hindu religion says that the 5 great rivers of India all come from.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqlnZrL8mw-gWOMnklMujvZsgMg8TyO9rtRMDVGcjy09xrdririu8hfBnbrdA1M4242S8hNJ7ETEre6-iYGqScI0n_ypY0BkcjJ0ZoQAm4FQFtAWTi8jdDS2AYUuqYYqF7JiMiXWGUpl7/s1600/100_7533.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqlnZrL8mw-gWOMnklMujvZsgMg8TyO9rtRMDVGcjy09xrdririu8hfBnbrdA1M4242S8hNJ7ETEre6-iYGqScI0n_ypY0BkcjJ0ZoQAm4FQFtAWTi8jdDS2AYUuqYYqF7JiMiXWGUpl7/s320/100_7533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493012522396187970" border="0" /></a>Krishna at the site of the origin of the 5 major Indian rivers. The water is spitting out of the cow's mouth. It is considered a sacred honor to be able to drink water and wash your face with water from the cow's mouth.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii90OC63buQFJY0MBJCVHXhRTY7t64tfKtJhyphenhypheniywMtzdGwxgPyJbJ3agyTt2CCRCu4Rx-pXq8GBlGZPcilx95QmZHuqaN3Qu7jJ3Jk-6EIcTBz4Vw4UN8EeHrPXQNoNUoLvlRQ2Th6IqY7/s1600/100_7548.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii90OC63buQFJY0MBJCVHXhRTY7t64tfKtJhyphenhypheniywMtzdGwxgPyJbJ3agyTt2CCRCu4Rx-pXq8GBlGZPcilx95QmZHuqaN3Qu7jJ3Jk-6EIcTBz4Vw4UN8EeHrPXQNoNUoLvlRQ2Th6IqY7/s320/100_7548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493013431875388818" border="0" /></a>Me.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4tgJuYRcOyuvj4HJyyFMHa2UDE1elCwgFrAyM1Ft66OL-hZHiYhLE171MsfGbQ7MwMnrUK7kZG2ytuqjB4BPv1IFxnZHeBJiu48RfkOh0eyRvQSDKpHg8IGtml4w3QhGPkguf-67syOn/s1600/100_7509.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4tgJuYRcOyuvj4HJyyFMHa2UDE1elCwgFrAyM1Ft66OL-hZHiYhLE171MsfGbQ7MwMnrUK7kZG2ytuqjB4BPv1IFxnZHeBJiu48RfkOh0eyRvQSDKpHg8IGtml4w3QhGPkguf-67syOn/s320/100_7509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493011940465960562" border="0" /></a>A local 7-11 (no, not really, but the equivalent)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhc9ojUbhaydOXYkS8aT8PiiuhfgEKpr0cU0D_0h48aLovroMAR3vTl7LP0FnxeHc9PSLeltShTP2rQZbNg4KfjG6NpcTBt2prXJGKIQyqrn2GaGpNJWHGldnButvmkEF2g41bHumAjQc/s1600/100_7508.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhc9ojUbhaydOXYkS8aT8PiiuhfgEKpr0cU0D_0h48aLovroMAR3vTl7LP0FnxeHc9PSLeltShTP2rQZbNg4KfjG6NpcTBt2prXJGKIQyqrn2GaGpNJWHGldnButvmkEF2g41bHumAjQc/s320/100_7508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493011458706786370" border="0" /></a>McDonald's!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxCKo99-UsNuSdglyMLHVFzWjy-dm46uGv_26ToYhtzMdhZQoyhaMXCSkCS6vyTYXjVGc-vGRohEXEpjOdsYxhpYiv0wDzsRdde1SEDe81zXA8CQBHJ-90EW8nmkYO4FzFCD8zOsJunvm/s1600/100_7503.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxCKo99-UsNuSdglyMLHVFzWjy-dm46uGv_26ToYhtzMdhZQoyhaMXCSkCS6vyTYXjVGc-vGRohEXEpjOdsYxhpYiv0wDzsRdde1SEDe81zXA8CQBHJ-90EW8nmkYO4FzFCD8zOsJunvm/s320/100_7503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493011119135421986" border="0" /></a>DOMINO'S!<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-58554156529950574322010-07-11T21:04:00.000-07:002010-07-12T09:19:57.527-07:00India-Day 31I have been in India for a month. Crazy. I was going to upload some photos right now, but my camera is dead. So we'll see if we can upload some photos later and get ya a good view of the things that have been happening over the past little while. <div>This weekend was rad. Seriously, so amazing. So the cool thing about India is the amount of history that it has. It literally has 4000 years of history creating its culture, people, and lifestyle. Whereas in America, it's rare to find a building that's over 300 years old. This weekend we went to two world heritage historical sites: Ellora and Ajanta's monk-built caves. </div><div>On Saturday, we drove to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurangabad,_Maharashtra">Aurangabad</a>, a city about 4-hours North-east of Pune, the city we've been staying in. We arrived and quickly checked into our hotel that only cost us 250 rupees a night (6 US dollars). Hotels in India are plain, but the room service is great. Amazing prices, wonderful Indian food, and fast! It is basically just a restaurant at my disposal. I didn't actually order anything, but Krishna got a omlette sandwich for breakfast. We ordered a few bottles of water for 15 rupees each (35 cents). </div><div>After checking into the hotel, it was another hour or so long bus ride to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ellora_Caves">Ellora</a>. I stepped out of the bus straight into Indiana Jones. We were in the midst of a giant forest with monkeys all around us. I'll talk more about the monkeys later, because they were friggin' awesome. Like I said, I stepped off the bus to see one of the most majestic sites I have ever seen. In front of me was a giant mountain, but it seemed as though the mountain had.</div><div>I am also soo happy i met krishna shastry.. He is the best ever!<br /><br />Sorry, left the computer. Krishna got a hold of it.<br />Anyway, it seemed as though the mountain had had a giant section cut out of it. Inside this giant section that was cut out was a gigantic solid stone temple. This temple had been carved out of the solid rock that makes up the mountain. Several generations of monks would work throughout their entire lives to build these enormous structures using only two tools: a hammer and chisel. It is the most amazing thing I think I have ever seen in my entire life. Walking up to these buildings, I stood in awe at the dedication it must've taken in order to build such massive structures. At the Allora site, there wasn't only one of these giant structures; there were 35 massive caves dug out of the mountain. The caves were chiseled out by monks from Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain religions. Again, I just stood in awe thinking about the level of dedication that it must've taken for the monks from the three religions to continue throughout their lives to constructing the caves. Ever inch of the temple was carved with such marvelous and intricate detail. And again, words lack the adequate feeling or emotion that I need to express what it was like to see these sites. My favorite cave, besides the gigantic temple structure, was a cave that was shaped to have perfect acoustics for meditation chanting. In the center of the room was a giant statue of Buddha. When the tour guide took to some chanting "Ohm", I could feel the vibration of the sound enter into my body. I have realized why monks chant like that. It really is relaxing. It chills you out. Helps your mind sit at ease. Next time you need to chill out, try it. Especially if you got a sweet statue of buddha and an perfectly acoustic room at your disposal.<br /><br />The next day, when I didn't think that things could get any more incredible, we take a bus up two hours to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ajanta_caves">Ajanta</a> to see another set of caves. These caves had actually been lost for 1000 years up until the early 19th century when John Smith (not <span style="font-style: italic;">Pocahontas' </span>John Smith), while hunting a tiger, discovered the caves. Atop a tall mountain, Smith overlooked a giant canyon to see find these chiseled-out caves deep in the jungle of India. I actually liked these caves better than the ones at Ellora. I think because of the artistic influence on the caves of Ajanta. In each of the caves are great paintings of stories from Buddha's life. The caves at Ajanta were mainly Buddhist caves as opposed to the other caves at Ellora. Very graphic paintings of beautiful Asian color and style. I was impressed by the artistic knowledge that they did posses in the 5th century AD. There was one cave with a mural on the ceiling. They were colorful designs of earthy browns, greens, reds, and oranges. There were brighter blues, but it was rare because in the 5th century, they were not able produce blue out of what they had available to them. They had to purchase it from Persia. Anyway, this mural was so rad because it was made to look like a giant tapestry. The painting style made the painting look as though it were flowing with the wind like a giant tapestry would. The way they painted that was really amazing. Obviously, because the monks were painting inside the caves, light was very limited. In order for the monks to have sufficient light to paint, water was poured all over the floor so that it was flooded with about 1 or 2 inches of water. Then, using mirrors and metallic reflection, the sun was reflected onto the water, which in turn was reflected off the water to shine on the ceiling and provide the light needed to paint and work in the caves. Such incredible ingenuity. Most of the caves had individual rooms available for the monks to meditate. The rooms were about 10 x 10 and there would be about 7 or 8 monks meditating at a time in these small rooms. These rooms, as well, had perfect acoustics that allowed the vibrations of the chanting to be felt in your body. It was awesome.<br />After the tour of the caves ended, we were allowed to go off on our own to explore a little bit more. I continued checking out the caves. Then, I met up with Krishna and Tom, and we decided to climb to the other side of the canyon where John Smith had first seen the caves. The half moon cut out of the mountain created a giant canyon with a waterfall on the far side flowing into a pool of water. Then, a river flows through the canyon and between where we were standing and the caves on the other side. Everything around us was a lush green due to the amount of precipitation that India always gets. So, we ran up the trail to see this sight, and I don't think that any of us were ready for the splendor we were about to witness. It was really unfortunate that we only had about 15 minutes until we needed to meet up with the group. There was a nice man who was trying to sell us some quartz rocks. He showed us the best spots to take photos. We took some photos, but as usual, it is impossible to express the feeling of it all. The sight, the smell, the temperature, the sound, the wind. All of it combined to create an incredibly euphoric, out-of-this-world, indescribable emotion. Gah. It's so frustrating. You'll just have to look at the pictures and try to imagine it the best you can.<br />As we were sitting on the top of the mountain, it began to rain. Not only rain, it began to MONSOON! Before we knew it, we were trapped under a veranda hanging out with our rock friend and about 30 nice Indian folk. It rained and rained. As we were talking with our friend, he taught me a great lesson. I was telling him that we were poor college students and that we were going to be traveling, so we couldn't buy his rocks. He told us that we were rich and healthy. Then he said, "Health is better than wealth." He said in such a wise manner. I appreciated that small thought. It was beautiful, because he was just so sincere and kind. We finished our conversation with him, and then because we needed to get back soon, we headed out in the rain to get soaked. I broke off a big leaf of a tree and used it as a temporary umbrella to keep me dry. A lot of the Indians that were huddled under different verandas complimented our brilliant use of nature. After 10 minutes or so, we made it down the mountain and met up with our group who were all huddled together in a restaurant, completely dry.<br />The trip home was an adventure as well. I have never met better salesmen than the salesmen outside of the caves. Before they went up to the caves, they walked up to us, talked with us, and showed us their shops. They really seemed to express interest in us, but afterward, I came to understand that their seemingly good feelings were expressed as a desire to sell to us rich Americans. It sucked. All their stuff was all the same and highly highly over-priced. The man I met, Ali, was doing everything he could to sell to me. I told him I couldn't, so he kept going down. I continued saying that I couldn't, so he kept going down in price. Finally, he sold me a statue of a Buddha for only 500 rupees. I tried to leave, but he kept trying to sell me more stuff. I left and went back to the bus, but he followed me and even stayed outside the bus asking me to buy. He wasn't the only one. All the shop-keepers that had occupied my friends were pestering them as well. We would even close the windows, and they would open them up jamming their stuff into our faces. It was so nuts. The most pushy, intense salesmen ever. It was very interesting though.<br />The bus ride back to Pune was the most uncomfortable trip I have ever taken. I was so exhausted. And I couldn't get to sleep in a comfortable situation. Totally bummed me out. But finally after about 7 hours, we arrived at an ATM that is close by the apartment. Krishna, Sergio (the monk), his brother, and I all walked home from there. I got home, took a shower, started the laundry, and then passed out.<br />So the past few days were freaking awesome. So much fun. Rahm, Krishna and Ashok's Dad, and Kartik, Dhruva's Dad, are here. We leave tomorrow for New Dheli. It will be a 26 hour train ride. That should be interesting. We get beds, food, and the works. I finished reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Animal Farm</span>. I started reading <span style="font-style: italic;">1984</span> again. I have a good long ride to read that. "War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength." Boo yah.<br />So that's it. I know this was super long. So kudos to you for reading this stuff. Really, I am half writing it for you, but mainly writing it for me. But I hope you do enjoy it. I love you and probably miss you. God bless. Namaste.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQhTvLDJ0ggznqJMFG4wkZ-u1qfpoxB1zdq0BARVkjYV2jyFEOZdK-pUCYZy9tI5ZLwODPod4EnbI8Ezd_bpXOrSyY1RmGm-1e22TKZedl30DIISGG0LwvK-j3LzyAxnrhlFMRpHD5Abd/s1600/IMG_0530.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQhTvLDJ0ggznqJMFG4wkZ-u1qfpoxB1zdq0BARVkjYV2jyFEOZdK-pUCYZy9tI5ZLwODPod4EnbI8Ezd_bpXOrSyY1RmGm-1e22TKZedl30DIISGG0LwvK-j3LzyAxnrhlFMRpHD5Abd/s320/IMG_0530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493054728615995282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-74918792422634048602010-07-09T10:24:00.000-07:002010-07-09T10:46:59.362-07:00India-Day 29Our time at the Ananda ashram came to an end today. Pretty mixed emotions about the whole thing. The people there are really chill. I have really liked the things we have learned there. Meditation, about solar energy, and such. Having traditional Indian cooking everyday was also a great blessing. But...I can't say that I am too upset about leaving when it comes to the work we've been doing. I feel that we have certainly been underutilized as of this past week. Sitting around, reading, watching movies and TV shows, etc. Fun, but unfortunately wasn't what I came over to India for. However, like I said before, I learned a lot of valuable things to take with me, so I can't say it was all bad.<div>Right now, we're sitting in Pune at the Ananda flats. Today was Tom's birthday, so we celebrated by going out to grab some pizza at Domino's. Gotta love that American pizza. Then, we went over to Crossword, a popular bookstore. Books in India are so cheap, so I grabbed two George Orwell books: <i>1984</i> and <i>Animal Farm. </i>It's been a while since I've read 1984 so I figured I'd pick that up again. I almost bought <i>The Complete Works of Shakespeare, </i>but I felt like $7 was too hard for me to come by at this time. I have been doing so much reading since coming to India. Mainly, it's because we have had so much free time to be able to do so. I have been reading my film book, <i>Super Freakonomics, The Book of Mormon, Fahrenheit 451, </i>and now, some classics by Orwell. Should be good times. </div><div>The time here in India has been great. I'm really excited for the next stage of my trip. We are going to meet up with Rahm, Krishna and Ashok's Dad, and Kartik, Dhruva's Dad on Monday. Then, we will head up to Dehli, the Himalayas, and to see the Taj Mahal. So sick! I'm way stoked for that. From Pune to Dehli, we will be taking a day-and-a-half train ride. First Class baby. High Rollin'! Then, we will fly down to Bangalore for the Ashok and Krishna's cousin's wedding. Then, July 26th, I'll fly out of Bangalore and head back to America. So, despite the fact that it may sound like I know what to expect the next couple weeks, I have really only a slight clue of what's going to happen. The rest is a mystery. </div><div>Another cool shout out to Jesse Thomas. I was thinking about you today buddy. I wanted to talk to you on skype but I ran out of time. Sorry man. Love you. </div><div>Shout out to Obama. Here's to you, Mr. President. I can't believe that you're middle name is Hussein and you got elected. Well done, sir. Well done. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-39775299231739587282010-07-04T19:49:00.000-07:002010-07-06T03:00:55.164-07:00India-Day 24So, last week, after having my awesome experience with the villagers, I learned a little bit about what not to do in India. On Friday, we went to this huge spiritual sight in a city near Pune. This sight is the place where a Hindu monk back like a thousand years ago "left his body". Basically, I think that means he meditated until he died? I don't really know. But this man was really respected and there is a legend of him flying on some stone wall, similar to a magic carpet, I guess. Apparently he had faith to move that stone wall and so he did. Anyway, there is a gigantic spiritual town square. Outside, you leave your shoes. Then, you enter the gate. It was really hectic on the inside. Lines everywhere and people trying to lay themselves flat on their bellies everywhere. Really, it was quite the sight. So after going through this giant line, we went through a room where this monk's body was buried. We seriously only had like 5 seconds in there before we were being shoved out by guards and stuff. I felt bad, because there were people in there trying to pray and stuff, but as soon as they would kneel down, the guard would be pushing them along. It was crazy.<br />As we left, I got separated from the group. I didn't mind because it gave me time to look around and soak it all in. Suddenly, there was this little Indian girl right in front of me, trying to paint my forehead with the traditional Indian mark so she could make a few rupees. I tried to avoid it. I didn't want to get painted, but she was a persistent little girl. She literally stopped right in front of me. If I tried to move to the left, she would move with me. If I tried to move to the right, she would move with me. Before I knew it, she reached her arm up as high as she could and got me with her little brush. By then, I didn't mind. I allowed her to paint my head. As soon as she was finished, she held out her hand expecting payment. I looked through my wallet, but could find nothing smaller than a 100 rupee bill. Just so you get an idea of how much this is, I would be surprised if they make 100 rupees in 5 days of work. I was looking to pay her only about 5 rupees, but being that I didn't have anything else, I didn't mind giving her the 100 rupees. However, as soon as I took it out, her eyes got huge. I handed it to her and immediately, she ran over to her friends and told them what I can only imagine is "The tall white guy is rich!" The next hour was horrible. I finally met up with everyone, but I had two little kids attached at my hip. 3 of the guys had been to India before. They asked what I did, so I told them. They remarked how that was a bad idea, because now these kids will follow us everywhere. And they did. We walked all the way back to our car. Not only were they still following us, but they had increased in numbers. There were about 5 little kids following us asking for our money. I felt bad, because I wasn't going to give any more money out. It's not that I minded giving out money. They obviously could use it more than I do. However, the thought occurred to me that giving them money is not what they need. If I really wanted to help them, I needed to give them my time and energy. It was a stark contrast from the kids in the village. I didn't give them any money, but I spent time with them, shared laughs with them, and smiled with them. And I feel that I made more of an impact on their lives than if I had given them money. Realizing this, I allowed the kids to continue following us around. I tried to make them act more like kids, by challenging them to a game of tag. When I tried touch them and yell "TAG!" they had no idea what I was talking about. Trying to get them to understand, I tagged Tom and got him to play with me a little bit. Then, I proceeded to tagging them. And they played! For an instant, they forgot all about their job. They forgot all about poverty, money, and things that only adults should be thinking about. For one second, they were acting like 5 year-olds again. It was wonderful. We played tag for maybe only 30 seconds, and they were the best 30 seconds of that whole day. Watching them laugh and smile was awesome. Truly great. However, their reality dawned back upon them, and I think they realized that I wasn't going to give them any money. They continued asking my friends and I, but no one was willing to give anything, except candy. Even candy wasn't good enough for them. They only wanted money. I tried to get them to play with me again, but they weren't having it anymore. As we started to leave, one of the girls began to cry. She almost got me. I just wanted her to escape the reality she was in, have fun, and be a kid. But I can only assume what her life must be like. I obviously have no idea and no matter how hard I try to put myself in her shoes, I will never be able to. Maybe I should have given her money. Who knows? It's just a bummer wanting to help someone out, but not being able to.<br />Yesterday, I had my first Indian massage. Krishna and I have been wanting to get massages for the past couple weeks. Finally, Krishna found a place in the newspaper. Because no one was doing anything yesterday, we figured it would be the best time to go. So, we went down there. Aaron, myself, Krishna, and one of the Indian monks (for translation) all went together in 2 auto rikshas (Indian taxis) We show up to this super run-down, sketchy apartment building. It was way dark. Our Indian friend called them and asked them where they were located. They said on the second floor of that building, room number 205. We went up the old elevator with metal gates for the doors, like you'd see in an old movie. Finally we arrived on floor two and found room number 205. There was no sign signifying it was an actual massage parlor or anything. Just the numbers 2-0-5 above the door. We walk in to meet a man and a woman sitting at a desk giving us a look like "What do you want?" Our Indian friend figures out a few things and gets us basically all set up for a massage for only 600 rupees (about $13) I was the first to go into the back room, which is only marked off by curtains like you'd see in a hospital. I walk into the room and the woman who was sitting at the desk asks, "Which one?" while pointing to a bunch of women standing in front of me. I felt awkward like I was picking out a stripper. I just picked the one closest to me. She took me into another separated room and told me to change, but didn't give me a towel. Now, I have gotten a massage before. Usually, the way it works is I go into the room by myself with a towel. I get naked and lie down on the bed. Then the woman comes in. Here, she hung out in the room, didn't give me a towel, and I'm sitting there like "Are you serious?" But finally, I asked, "Towel? Towel?" She responded by going and grabbing me a towel, to which I was really appreciative. I stripped down and laid face-down on the table with the towel over me. She came in a few seconds later. The massage was mediocre, at best. She massaged with like dove lotion, but had no special deep-tissue techniques. I was pretty disappointed. The massage finished sooner than 45 minutes, but I had the longest massage out of Krishna, Aaron, and mine. Awkwardly, we met up in the "lobby", then we left and laughed at the awesome experience. It was great. Really fun stuff.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-64280443579537514062010-07-03T07:43:00.000-07:002010-07-04T04:31:07.175-07:00India-Day 22This week was a really great week. We have had a really good balance of work and cultural experiences that made the week go by really smoothly. It seems like this week also went by really quickly. I guess I am getting more into the hang of things and have my own schedule of doing things that has made time pass by quickly.<br />We are so dirty. All the time. It dawned on me today as I was sitting in the shower scrubbing the mud off of my feet. We smell too. I think we're all so accustomed to the facilities of our lives here in India that it hardly phases us.<br />So, like I said before, this week was a great week. I think I am thinking in particular of one really amazing experience we had on Thursday that made it, to me, a fantastic week. I have already written pretty deeply about it in my journal, so I figured to save me the effort of trying to recall every detail of Thursday, I'll just copy what I wrote in my journal.<br /><br />"July 1, 2010-Thursday<br />Today was the best day of the trip so far. This morning, after waking up, the monks asked if we wanted to go hike up to the village that is above the Ananda Community. Everyone wanted to go, except Mat. His leg has been hurting him, so he couldn't go.<br />The hike was gorgeous. We basically hiked straight up the mountain that is behind the community. I sat in awe as I looked over the lush, green valley with all its magnificent beauty. Towards the south, there was the beginning of another valley, with a lake on the inside. As my eyes panned accross teh larger valley in front of me, I could see several smaller villages, but other than that and rice paddies, there was little sign of any human life. Seeing the horizon connect with the earth is a sight that no matter where I am will always bring gazes of astonishment. The horizon in the distance was smoggy, but the mountains cut up into the sky. It seemed as though the scene I was looking at was not real, but was a painting. It's frustrating to me, because no matter how hard I try to describe this scene, it will never come alive to the person reading this. You'll never be able to experience it like I did. I believe this is why film intrigues me so much. Sure, I'll never be able to exactly recreate the experience, the emotion felt. However, you can get millimeters closer with photography. I snapped some photos with my digital point-and-shoot camera. They're good photos and as time passes by, they'll be important to me in helping recall the memories. Nevertheless, it saddens me that I'll never experience it just like that again. First time gazing over as I feel the wind in my face and hair; the sensational tingly felling in my legs after hiking straight up the mountain. The hot sun combined with humidity causing me to sweat heavily. And most importantly, sharing it all with good people. Feeling all this come together fills my heart with a peace that can't be explained or repeated. As tragic as that is, I am so grateful to God to have had the opportunity to feel it.<br />As I gazed over this beautiful sight, I thought a lot about the creation of the Earth. In Alma 30:44, Alma teaches that "all things denote there is a God". The scene I was witnessing strengthened my faith in this principal. I even said to Tom, "How can anyone question the existence of God with such a beautiful sight in front of them?!" It's true -- How could someone see that wonderful of a scene and believe it was all some random fortunate circumstance?? It doesn't make sense to me.<br />We continued our hike until we reached a Hindu temple, where we stopped to eat apples and other snacks. The temple was quaint, but nice. It was built by local villagers as a place for worship. Around this time, 2 kids from the village were intrigued by us and started following us around. We played soccer and threw around a frisbee with them. I raced on of the kids in a foot race to a nearby tree and back. He beat me, but I let him win. Still, he was a fast little guy. We then meditated for a while at the temple. After meditating for a few minutes, we continued hiking for about 10 minutes until we reached the village.<br />The scene of a village is also a scene that is impossible to describe because I can't share the emotion of seeing it all. Words can't explain how I felt as I walked into the village. It's frustrating to write because you will only understand a small percentage of what it's like.<br />The two little boys we were playing with led us into the village. We first went to a house near the edge of the village and several children came out to meet us. Scared to approach the strange foreigners, the children huddled close together; the younger ones hid behind the older ones. For some of these younger children, this may have been one of their first times ever seeing a white person. We are tall, big, and loud, and probably scarier than a lot of monsters they have imagined. However, we were able to have some fun with the kidsas we shared candy and played soccer with them. One kid grew super attached to the soccer ball and by the time we left, Tom gave it to him so that he could keep kicking it around. The children started really opening up to myself and everyone else in the group as I started taking pictures of them. We would take a picture together. Then, I would show them what it looked like. I don't know if any of them had ever seen a camera before. I let them take their own pictures of me and whatever else they wanted to. We took a lot of cool pictures in their homes. This place was made with brick and clay. the roof was made of straw and the ground was brick, rock, and dirt. The ceiling was only about 5 feet off the ground, so I walked mostly on my hands and knees. In this house, we sat with the children, and I was touched by the relationship of love between the father and his children. There were 6 children in the home, but not all were the father's children. His little girl, however, was a toddler of about 10 months or so, and she made my heart melt. She wasn't wearing anything except a pink shirt. No diaper or anything. She was the cutest little girl I have ever laid eyes on. Her big brown eyes made me want to spend all my time with only her. We took several pictures together. As I was about to leave the house, the kids continued wanting to take pictures, and I wanted them to, too. I could've stayed there all day taking pictures with those beautiful children, watching them smile, laugh, and take joy in the simple things in life like strawberry fruit candies and pictures on a digital camera. I had several moments where I felt so peaceful and full of joy. The kind of feeling that some people strive their entire lives to feel. The best part about it all is that I didn't experience it alone. There are several amazing people I here with me that helped make good moments great and great moments perfect.<br />The village was amazing. The children are unforgettable. They each left their imprints on my life, and I assume, the lives of those I am with, for the only thing any of us could say following our experience was that we wanted to return to help the village. As I was walking down, I was able to discover why it is I came to India. I realized that seeing what I saw today, from the beautiful Indian mountains to the village to those wonderful kids, made it all worth it. It made the hard work we've done seem so worth it just to be able to taste what I have tasted. Today was one of the greatest days of my life, and I thank God so much for allowing me to be so fortunate to have experienced it all."<br /><br />So I know it's pretty long and everything, so I'm sorry to keep you. I have so much more to write about. But, as a good breaking point, I'll end here. I'll write more about this week later on tonight, perhaps. Also, about the ridiculously rad massage we got today. Stay tuned. Namaste.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-27661705655264545512010-06-27T21:16:00.000-07:002010-06-27T21:52:42.076-07:00India-Day 15This weekend was nice. It was really relaxing and a fantastic cultural experience. Different from that which we've been doing. Saturday, we went shopping around. I bought a book on the Mafia. It was like $2, and I have decided that I really like coffee-table literature. It's just interesting enough that you can look at it for 20 minutes or so when you're procrastinating, but not interesting enough to read from cover to cover. I don't know if any of you can relate or not.<br />For lunch, we went to this restaurant that is the coolest buffet I have ever seen. It's not a buffet where you stand up and go get your own food when you want it. There are waiters walking around with platters of food. When you want some, you ask for more. And it only cost like $4. Tragically, I didn't eat. To be honest, the food didn't even look appetizing to me at the state of mind that I was in. I was still feeling sick from throwing up on Thursday. It sucked. The food was probably super good and all I felt like eating was water. So tragic.<br />India movie theatres are really interesting. We went to see <span style="font-style: italic;">The A-Team</span> after we did some more shopping. My second time seeing the movie. All in all, it was entertaining, because of how over-the-top Hollywood has become. Anyway, before the movie, everyone in the theatre stands up and sings the Indian national anthem. Then, at the middle of the movie, they stop it for intermission. The intermission was actually really nice. It gave you a great chance to get up and go to the bathroom and stuff. Really cool stuff.<br />Saturday was Aaron's birthday, so everyone wanted to go celebrate. We got dropped off in some part of town where all the parties are going down. After everyone, with the exception of Dhruva and I, drank some booze, got a little buzzed, smoked some hookah, lost their buzz, then we went and tried to find some clubs. Despite being incredibly hot in Inda, you cannot wear shorts and go to clubs. Who'da thought? So it was a no-go on the clubs. Then, we got in a pretty epic 10 minute argument with some cab drivers because they wanted to charge a lot of money to take us home. We ended up talking them down to about $12 for the ride which was really good considering how far away we were.<br />Yesterday was Sunday and a really cool day. We got on a bus at 6:30 AM and rode 3 hours up a giant of a mountain. We spent the entire day driving and checking out these rad ancient temples. Seriously, these things were built like 4000 years ago. So crazy. One of the temples had a pool of water that was believed to be the source of the 5 great rivers of India. Everyone in the temple would go down to the cow statue waterfall that had water coming out of its mouth and would wash their hands, feet, hair, and face. Then, they would sometimes drink the water. Another temple seriously looked like it was straight out of Indiana Jones. It was on the edge of this huge cliff. Unfortunately, it had been raining so all we could see were clouds in front of us. But still, it was such an indescribable feeling to imagine thousands of years of monks sitting and meditating on that temple overlooking this great empty valley truly witnessing God's artistic hand in all of nature. It was overwhelming in some aspects. So beautiful.<br />It's been a trip for sure. India is an amazing place. One thing I am starting to realize, however, is that I wish I could work on more personal level with the people. The thing that I loved most about my mission in Japan was the people. Just working so closely with them, it was natural and easy to grow and love them. I don't feel I have had that kind of opportunity to do with the people of India, so I still feel so very distant from them.<br />Things are going well. I still can't get over this diarrhea, but that's probably more information that you were bargaining for. Anyway, I'm out. Special shout-out to my sister Mackenzie. I don't think she reads this, but I was just thinking about her. I love you, sis. Hope all is well.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-39505806038579553802010-06-25T21:43:00.001-07:002010-06-25T22:09:39.079-07:00India-Day 12I couldn't hold off any longer. On Wednesday, I must have eaten something sketchy because I spent the entire day on Thursday throwing up and sleeping. It was horrible. I don't think I have been sick like that in long long time. It was pretty intense. I am still a little exhausted from it all.<br />We have been growing a little discouraged with the project. I think when we came to India, we all thought that we would be doing more humanitarian work than we have done up to this point. We work doing manual labor all day for the Ananda spiritual community, basically the people who we thought would be taking us to different villages. I don't mind doing hard labor or anything like that, but I was a little thrown off because I came here to help people who are underprivileged and need my help. The people here on this commune can hire people to do the work we are doing. I don't know. I try to keep a good attitude about it, but especially lately, as I have been so sick, I have been so discouraged about the whole thing. It has been so hard to continue working hard, when I feel like I have been taken advantage of. Luckily, Rahm and Kartik, the organizers of this whole project have made some calls, and hopefully, things will be improving this next week. We'll see.<br />I really got home sick this week. Not having the comforts of America really got to me as I was lying sick and hot in my uncomfortable bed. That kind of suffering is all part of the experience I need to gain. It still amazes me that people live here in India. The conditions almost seem unfathomable. If I wasn't here experiencing it in person, I don't know how much I would be able to believe. You hear about extreme poverty in the world, and I think naturally, it's hard for us to create that world. If you read my blog from the beginning, I think you can see how evident that is. I can look at pictures of kids starving, people suffering, and impoverished men and women living all day long, but it has nowhere near the effect it has on seeing one child up close and personal. Even worse, knowing that no matter what I do, it is beyond my ability to help that person out given the resources that I have. There are these villagers that live next to the commune. They have 3 or so children that are always running around. So cute. While I was reading, one of the children, a little girl about 5 years old, came up to me and without any shyness at all, started looking at the book with me. I opened to show her pictures (I was reading a film book, so there were some storyboard sketches). She then takes the book and begins to read it on her own. It's impossible for me to share with you the image of the cute innocence that existed in that child. While showering later on, it occurred to me how wonderful childhood is. The vast experiences we have that are so simple, yet teach us so much.. Then, we grow up only to make life complicated and difficult. We only allow ourselves to be taught in classrooms and professional settings. We give up to the simple truths of life and human interaction that can only be gained through childlike simplicity and innocence. Further, I thought more about this girl and how badly I did not want her to grow up. I wanted her to continue living as a child and not be tainted by the world.<br />My writing may or may not make sense. I did not intend to write as much as I have, but I like writing when it flows from my mind to the screen.<br />Namaste.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-48981167703007553672010-06-23T08:26:00.000-07:002010-06-23T08:55:47.858-07:00Indai-day 9 ?We started learning Hindi on Monday. Learning a language is tough. I recall my days at the MTC when I was learning Japanese. And then realizing that my mission is over, I have one of those "Oh snap" moments. It's crazy. Now, here I am in India enjoying my next adventure. <div>I had a good meditating session yesterday. I really felt like I was benefiting from the blessings of clearing your mind. It was just peace. It was nice. Then, I started thinking about girls. Thus, I became distracted. too bad. I miss girls though. </div><div>Everyone here is really nice. I am always exhausted from a hard day's work. Recently, we've been working on the side of a hill digging out rocks and dirt. My hands are torn and blistered, as well as my feet. Everyone thinks that I am crazy, because I continue to wear sandals while I work. I have worn boots, but they are so hot; my feet always feel like they're on fire whenever I wear boots. So, I have just been wearing sandals and now my feet are super cut up. </div><div>We take cold showers. Heavenly in the hot Indian weather. We have been having really hot weather, which is different from what we were expecting: straight monsoons. </div><div>It's about 9 or so right now. I am listening to everyone talk about ghosts and spooks and all that stuff. Everyone is so beat up. We played an intense game of soccer yesterday. Matt took two nasty hits to the shins, one on each leg. Then today, we were jumping over this fairly large ravine; Tom messed up his ankle pretty good. Sunburns, sickness, cuts, scrapes. I feel like we're a beat up football team with mother nature kickin our trash. </div><div>While I was showering today, the septic tank started overflowing. I got out of the shower and smelled the most horrifying stench ever. Bummer. We got work to do tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-90920085373045401052010-06-20T02:07:00.001-07:002010-06-20T08:52:43.559-07:00India-Day 6"Must've been the nuts" -Tom Dalske, in regards to why he has been throwing up for the past 2 days.<div><br /></div><div>Out of 7 of us, 4 have become sick. Tom and Dhruva must have eaten some bad nuts. Krishna has some kind of fever. And Ashok, for some reason we can't explain, drank the waste water from the water filter. Matt, Aaron, and I are still holding strong. For how long, we know not. We're hold off the bacteria for as long as possible.</div><div><br /></div><div>We've been doing a lot of meditating since arriving at the Ananda commune, one hour outside of Pune. Jemal, Jaydar, and the other monks taught us some simple meditation techniques yesterday dealing with breathing and clearing the mind. I didn't understand this at first, but our experience here is involving a lot more spiritual learning than I expected. The theology here is basically a mix between all religions with a little yoga twist to it all. Before we start meditation, we do some chants about Jesus Christ, some saint, and other stuff. There are prayers said to divine mother, heavenly father, holy Mary, and others. It's definitely different than what I'm used to. But I am in India so...when in Rome...?</div><div><br /></div><div>Today, we went to downtown Pune's marketplace. Basically millions of people and cheap clothing and other goodies makes for a good time. Really exhausted, but so good. I got some traditional indian attire. I'll post pictures soon. </div><div><br /></div><div>The poverty here in India is so difficult to see. Everywhere we go, there are children asking for money...or even worse, mothers carrying their sick children asking for money for food. We are encouraged not to give to them, for if we do then more will come asking for money. Its really tragic though. I did give some money away to a handicapped fellow. But I feel that it doesn't really help. Giving money will only benefit them so far. It's the whole idea that you can give a man fish or you can teach a man a fish. I wish that I knew how to teach them to fish. </div><div><br /></div><div>The work we are doing is for the Ananda spiritual community they are building outside of Pune. Yesterday, I spent most of the day surveying elevations of the ground so we can install a water tank tomorrow. We are going to be working on the community for this week and traveling during the weekends. It sounds like we have some really interesting trips planned to different temples and stuff. The Indian culture is very spiritual and drawn to the inner energy that exists all around us. In meditation or in their everyday lives, they seek to find the inner energy of the planet. Really interesting stuff. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope you are all doing well. I love India. I miss you all. Namaste </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-43536077787143923752010-06-19T23:54:00.001-07:002010-06-20T02:07:21.641-07:00India-pictures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsBrMpUxW145Oh14BdmhFNwrNjGjhANJcfjxJApo8zRXjhCNxhH2yHbi36cF8KvP9ijFKxekHu1Dw-uIxH882lq7-_3WVpitPhii5gZ-rEP0oIV9A8geVtO1p8u0YXz3Qx42N6dF-qbwIn/s1600/100_7442.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsBrMpUxW145Oh14BdmhFNwrNjGjhANJcfjxJApo8zRXjhCNxhH2yHbi36cF8KvP9ijFKxekHu1Dw-uIxH882lq7-_3WVpitPhii5gZ-rEP0oIV9A8geVtO1p8u0YXz3Qx42N6dF-qbwIn/s320/100_7442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484779729986511234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">An Indian sweets shop </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1XYuE19f-OsdvwrCWLQeFURLJClfaWVwbwnCm1mpba_5P5mbWD02HgKCw-EIGAyAoplRDZjGj9z3cRODTWhbVh2Ewp-HKwq8Lq9YzjedbwLOBbykAjSyIhU7irRKJQsAD1r4W9P-Nu9y/s1600/100_7438.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1XYuE19f-OsdvwrCWLQeFURLJClfaWVwbwnCm1mpba_5P5mbWD02HgKCw-EIGAyAoplRDZjGj9z3cRODTWhbVh2Ewp-HKwq8Lq9YzjedbwLOBbykAjSyIhU7irRKJQsAD1r4W9P-Nu9y/s320/100_7438.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484779077176380450" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Our housing accommodations </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZexl9oXPl3pPWXfayBAtXVUfDE2GQxcJsDATeoAbaSbHWaepYPbZA88raRFBsqnn9Qh87crlzY2GGxhQeoHC_FQHnWtCPuJd4mxVGMkzC16F5TC4AknJ5FXqg6yrynYifQ1WjcNMPVml/s1600/100_7440.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZexl9oXPl3pPWXfayBAtXVUfDE2GQxcJsDATeoAbaSbHWaepYPbZA88raRFBsqnn9Qh87crlzY2GGxhQeoHC_FQHnWtCPuJd4mxVGMkzC16F5TC4AknJ5FXqg6yrynYifQ1WjcNMPVml/s320/100_7440.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484778507397539794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The "monk-mobile"</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu24vXZuM3fivYko_ZB08aZpayMGJjWlEqZpVxoZpCXNUY0JCitTZDxwk5HnkQlpu7_GSSzQvh0wzqxoKet5ZeO2uGRgDb6hz1962_1EDIVwVB1NWetoeLhxibpTmwiwilxIqJ80XV5-_y/s1600/100_7428.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu24vXZuM3fivYko_ZB08aZpayMGJjWlEqZpVxoZpCXNUY0JCitTZDxwk5HnkQlpu7_GSSzQvh0wzqxoKet5ZeO2uGRgDb6hz1962_1EDIVwVB1NWetoeLhxibpTmwiwilxIqJ80XV5-_y/s320/100_7428.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484777950775575986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The famous Taj hotel where all the foreign ambassador</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtwdGVolSX1_Yoi2IJ-2m2EtZGC1-iG1BIKpGK3ZckXz3pYAXT_FRySGtriYF5ISif7akFndb4zwhCG1UUKbEFI8zfRbp4zZtVQZdceQIc0Ryoo-AlLskkeVULfGcOI3Udmt3KcRHx_XN/s1600/100_7410.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtwdGVolSX1_Yoi2IJ-2m2EtZGC1-iG1BIKpGK3ZckXz3pYAXT_FRySGtriYF5ISif7akFndb4zwhCG1UUKbEFI8zfRbp4zZtVQZdceQIc0Ryoo-AlLskkeVULfGcOI3Udmt3KcRHx_XN/s320/100_7410.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484777310977228818" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A bunch of "Auto-rikshas" (3 wheeled taxis)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqKPIJKmShC99vDKbfqfvesOVOTJVqJDgWNtVFsAquzDTVaMEIgOPgRM8YeFX_NfiJIw6Nd6G_d1RXWThvfb-0bj_WU03ecfLxyzelVA5qTi_1GVaNm4N-zz2hCNMRZ9WOjGn8iS7dNpJ/s1600/100_7417.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqKPIJKmShC99vDKbfqfvesOVOTJVqJDgWNtVFsAquzDTVaMEIgOPgRM8YeFX_NfiJIw6Nd6G_d1RXWThvfb-0bj_WU03ecfLxyzelVA5qTi_1GVaNm4N-zz2hCNMRZ9WOjGn8iS7dNpJ/s320/100_7417.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484776759476896178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A Indian taxi </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5ijedTnPmc5SII8-ErZ9toVQ8pQ6eEoHkJmTy0OYCGEDiP1_2axZ0JasfXl-QMtKZYAWsF4IPBxcR3dJCz51B0R9yK-IGIKTqxW3-FDS023GmE_Bt4dzlNtwMAixiawcupmtnolyP0HH/s1600/100_7405.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5ijedTnPmc5SII8-ErZ9toVQ8pQ6eEoHkJmTy0OYCGEDiP1_2axZ0JasfXl-QMtKZYAWsF4IPBxcR3dJCz51B0R9yK-IGIKTqxW3-FDS023GmE_Bt4dzlNtwMAixiawcupmtnolyP0HH/s320/100_7405.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484775724146583442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">No, not the ghetto. It's Mumbai.</div><div><br /></div><div>Enjoy the pictures</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-78774065737827896642010-06-17T12:49:00.000-07:002010-06-17T13:22:10.040-07:00India-day 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHU0H-hePptfu8VA2XPi_OWSAW1pAn4K0EwcimZClAiy9WVGd-w0Oyi1cUL1wXKGAlFt8Je9d8m75lW0zdywH6upvFWmhT47TsfdGxpG5tsgn_k5HwbwyIMEG96w0aQgPvqsQ8s24lMXw/s1600/100_7431.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHU0H-hePptfu8VA2XPi_OWSAW1pAn4K0EwcimZClAiy9WVGd-w0Oyi1cUL1wXKGAlFt8Je9d8m75lW0zdywH6upvFWmhT47TsfdGxpG5tsgn_k5HwbwyIMEG96w0aQgPvqsQ8s24lMXw/s320/100_7431.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483835436598757282" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gateway_to_India">The gateway to India</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We met up with the group today. Basically, the first group arrived 3 days ago. Another group of 3 arrived today. We met up and were taken away to look at India and all its splendor. The gateway to India was really rad. It was to welcome the British when they came into India in like 1911 or something like that. While there, we met up with this nice British woman named Inshella. She came with us to eat. Then, we met this other woman from Washington D.C. named Monica. So we had a nice group of tourists together for lunch. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The food here is so freaking delicious. Everything I have eaten has been great. I have had to be careful about the water and such. We only drink bottled water. I have drank some coke, which I still think is disgusting, but being that it is so hot, I had to drink something. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The poverty here is tragic. In the city we were staying in, Mumbai, there is the largest slum in all of Asia. I saw it flying in and it just continued and continued over hills and hills of Mumbai. Seeing children on the street come up to me asking for money to eat or food is really hard. Especially because I still have not had a chance to exchange my American dollars into Indian Rupies. So, even if I wanted to give them something, I couldn't. I did, however, give two little kids that kept following me a quarter each. I don't know if it'll help them at all, but if it does, good. They left me alone after that. </div><div style="text-align: left;">We met Jemal today. Such a humble, good, down-to-earth guy. He is the monk who has been coordinating this project. He has an interesting story that has led him to where he is now. I don't feel it's my place to share over a blog or anything, but basically he has just taken his path to happiness by becoming a monk. Driving to Pune from Mumbai, he and I had a chance to discuss religious, or rather, ethic values for a good hour or so. It was a great mutual respect that I felt talking with him. He taught me and I like to think that I taught him. It was a beautiful, uplifting conversation about life in general that touched me. I am looking forward to learning more from him. He'll be instructing our meditation classes and supervising our work and such. </div><div style="text-align: left;">So tonight we're staying in Pune at the monks' apartments. Tomorrow, we'll drive the 2 hours or so into the monestary and so it begins... </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-43823994377312894742010-06-14T10:58:00.000-07:002010-06-14T11:14:56.148-07:00India-En routeLeaving America was like a dream. My life is going to be so dismissed. so distant, for the next 5 weeks. However, it helped me to recall my experience as a missionary in Japan. I thought back to that day of nearly 3 years ago. Although I was not much younger in years or anything, I would consider myself a lot younger. I had not yet had the experience of a mission to change and form me as it had. I hadn't met all the people in Japan that helped shaped me into who I am now. So, leaving America was similar to that feeling right before I left for Japan. I felt so unaware and so in awe of the world in its vastness. I was going to fly across the Pacific Ocean once again. I would experience the surreal feeling of knowing that should I crash, there is nothing but water for thousands of miles to swallow up me, my friends, and the hundred or so other passengers. But that feeling, as strange as it might be, brings such a sense of peace and serenity. The trip was incredibly different from my plane flights to and from Japan. I watched movies. It made the time pass a lot more quickly. 3 movies, one men's health magazine, and 30 pages or so from <em>Farenheit 451</em>. And I slept. All in all, it passed pretty quickly. Anyway, I dabble. As I always do.<br />So here we are. 4 of us in the Singapore airport, a place I know nothing about. I hardly knew where Singapore was on a map before I left. Dhruva is playing chess on the free X box 360 system. Tom is playing Dynasty Warriors or something like that. Matt is...I don't know what Matt is doing. Maybe going to the bathroom. I heard him mentioning it a while ago. Here I am blogging. I love blogging. Guilty pleasure, I know. And I know of my few followers, I probably drive them pretty insane with my spacey thoughts and my spastic sarcasm. But do know, I do have a point, my friends. Getting my thoughts from my mind to the paper has always been one of my most important endeavors. I can type so much faster than I can write, so it's easier to dabble than in a journal or something like that.<br />7 minutes left on this computer before it logs me out. I think I'll cut that short and go find a bathroom. I'm about to enter Indian borders. I don't even know what is about to hit me. I think about India and an image of Bollywood pops into my mind. I have heard about the large amounts of poverty that exist in the country, and in all honesty, I don't think I am ready to see it. But ready or not, here it comes. It's okay. It'll help me out, in some deep and profound way... I suppose.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4287235070936233291.post-53265205637416865152010-03-18T21:20:00.000-07:002010-03-18T21:52:58.362-07:00My blog's feet have been through a lot<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLQx8YNFuJFa2mTCT7tQOViaoTVS1UJzQgizsX7FgUzqYoBZOTeHcsv5vFoS2SILUl50hY_Ym7xkww7o20xS7GWTqf5G8KhH9hMKXbdPjR3Ioql4tEMimYatRsiSi4L8kAcMklWxBZuzz/s1600-h/Sebastiao+Salgado"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLQx8YNFuJFa2mTCT7tQOViaoTVS1UJzQgizsX7FgUzqYoBZOTeHcsv5vFoS2SILUl50hY_Ym7xkww7o20xS7GWTqf5G8KhH9hMKXbdPjR3Ioql4tEMimYatRsiSi4L8kAcMklWxBZuzz/s400/Sebastiao+Salgado" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450197640644580722" border="0" /></a><br />Photograph by Sebastiao Salgado<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I first began this blog with a pair of hands. You may recall, if you are a follower of my blog, that they were two hands being cuffed together at the American-Mexican border. All the blogs between that first one and this one have told us many stories. Many tragic details have hopefully left us changed and motivated to see the world differently. It is my hope that this blog will lead you to move. I hope that you will feel a desire to help not just refugees, but one another out. I have never written this blog expecting to convert the next Mother Teresa or to save the world from it's self-destructiveness, but I have written it so that you can see God's beautiful creation that is mankind. We exist. We live. We love. We cry. We have joy. And we suffer. The pictures that you have seen throughout the duration of my blog have hopefully captured that. So like I said earlier, I don't expect any of you to go out there and change the world in an instant. But I do hope that you change the world around you. I hope you can make the world a better place by small and simple things. Lets work together to help those around us who need a simple smile to know that we care.<br />Sorry, I got side-tracked once again.<br />So, my final picture for this portion of my blog is the picture of these feet. Once again, Salgado captures an experience, but does not have to put a face to the story. I'll be honest. I don't know what this story is, either. I found this picture on the internet on some Italian blog. However, it is Salgado. You can almost taste the Salgado flavor that is so evident in all his photos. I felt this photo was very fitting to end my blog with, for the journey is complete. The feet of my blog have been through a lot. It's been a trip. I hope you enjoyed it. Who knows when I'll see ya again. Love you all. God bless.<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3