India: Women and Community

First, let me apologize for not writing as much as I thought I might. Actually, originally, I had planned to write a chapter of my book (or, in other words, one short story) each day while in India. A much wiser friend than myself cautioned me against doing so. That was smart. It turns out wifi is hard to come by in small villages, and even in big city Bombay's cafes. What is even more surprising is that a SIM with a data package is extremely affordable in India, so I can storytell from the road. It just happens a little bit slower, because I'm writing on my iPhone 6. Yep, you read that right. I left my laptop at home. Can you believe it?! Move slowly, right?! 

Since I arrived and dove into the culture, I've been wanting to write about the resilience and beauty of these Indian women. The women of India are stunning, strong, and vibrant - a reflection of the culture. Wherever I travel, I find the women in their colorful saris mesmerizing, silently basking in their radiance. Every once in a while, they'll catch me smiling at them in awe, and they always smile back. On the crowded train, passing in the busy Bombay streets, at the community center, in traffic...everywhere - it is incredible how a gesture like a smile can completely change the vibe of a space. West and East...we're humankind, and we're more alike than you'd think. 

Arushi chats with Ramji about this handwoven blanket during our #ExploreTheInitiative adventure to Gujarat. 

Let's start with Arushi, my hostess. She's a young and passionate product designer who founded The Initiative and works to partner with craftspeople by providing them sustainable livelihoods through her business. Patchwork blankets, upcycled sari godhadis, patchwork yoga mat bags and more. Her work is equally beautiful and functional.

One of Arushi's patchwork yoga mat bags. 

I met Arushi through a storytelling project she did with Ethnotek, when she volunteered to visit Master Weaver Vankar Shamji's weaving village. And she, and her family, have been so incredibly accommodating since my arrival. So nice segue to talk about her insanely awesome mother, Poornima, for a few moments.

Poornima teaches autistic student Rishaan during their lesson last Saturday morning. 

Poornima is so, so talented and gifted. A musician who has studied Indian Classical Music since the age of 7 under the Late Mr. Ratnakar Pai of the Jaipur Gharana, Poornima's interest in devotional music and Vedic chants led her to explore the therapeutic benefits of sound and music. Last Saturday I had the pleasure of watching Poornima teach a few of her students. All with beautiful voices, each one of them struggles for their voice to be heard in class. With autism, Rishaan has progressed quite extensively through sound therapy with Poornima. I was so touched by his voice when he sang "Imagine" that I was nearly moved to tears. Her patience is insurmountable and her art a special art. She is available for workshops on Sound Toning and Omkar Pranayam and currently aiming to plan a tour in the states - would be perfect for universities and yoga studios. Holler if interested. 

A young woman involved in CORP's educational program refines her sewing skills.  

Last week we took the train to Thane, to meet with Community Outreach Programmes (CORP) about a potential collaboration between Arushi's social enterprise, The Initiative, and the women who work for CORP. CORP envisions a society where all women and children are dignified, empowered, and their basic rights are respected. While we were there, one of the students learning henna insisted on giving mehndi (henna), which was lovely. Following the visit to Thane, we ventured to meet another group of women Arushi works with, who have emerged from human trafficking and empowered through business. Wow. Just wow. To get there we walked through the closest community to a slum that I've experienced firsthand here. Children were laughing, occupying their time with a simple game of marbles, women washed clothing and cooked...life was very busy there. I just thought to myself what an entirely different life we live. How blessed are we?! I've said this before, but the value of life is different here. I guess it kind of comes with the territory when a country has 1.3 billion people. Anyway, where was I?! Oh yes, the women who have been empowered through business to rise out of the human trafficking ashes. They had a real, palpable sense of pride in what they did, and I could tell they really admired Arushi. The world needs more people like these women: stunning, strong and vibrant.

For a moment, allow me to share a unique experience I encountered on the way that trip to Thane. It happened on the train, one of my all-time favorite modes of transport. You see, there's an entire subculture around these train communities - men and women who have traveled long distances by train to come to the city for their work. After a long day of work and the added commute, these women then also shoulder the responsibility of cooking and taking care of their families when they get home at the end of the day. Absolutely incredible. When you take a train in Bombay it doesn't take long to realize there is a sort of system or flow to movement, and if you don't flow with India, India won't flow with you. First of all, let's talk about the fact that on the main routes and stations, there are bodies on bodies on bodies overflowing from the train cars. This is no exaggeration, and this is no Switzerland or Germany, folks. This is real life and it doesn't get much more raw or authentic (or pungent) than this, folks. For a second just attempt to consider what 20 million+ people looks like, and you'll begin to understand why any type of travel is chaotic. Train travel is no exception. However, silver lining is that there are indeed female train cars. Arushi told me a little bit about the subculture of these female train cars and I find it fascinating. We took our seats and I enjoyed the people watching and smiling at strangers, as well as witnessing the goings-on of the train car commerce - individuals selling everything from scarves to bindis. But what I found most fascinating was what happened when we were about to exit the train. There seemed to have been a system, and there was definitely an alpha. She organized us into two rows in front of the train exit and told us to stand shoulder to shoulder. I giggled in amusement and some of the gals in their saris giggled at my giggles of amusement. You see, in Bombay, as Arushi told me, everyone is rushing to get everywhere but no one is really ever on time. There's this sort of integral flow here, and if you don't move with it you get moved by it. What the women were doing was banding together to create a force that would push off of the train car together in unity. Working together toward a common goal. The reason? Because they knew there would be women on the other side trying with all of their force to enter the train and snag a prime seat. As it turns out, we were the stronger crew that day. I couldn't stop laughing. Everyone is yelling and pushing and then it just stops and life goes on, no hard feelings. When we exited the train I just stood their on the platform consumed by a fit of giggles. That was the highlight of my day. Talk about women in community. Damn. 

Arushi sits with Raji Ben and Shabri by the loom as Raji Ben creates a plastic weaving sample for The Initiative.  

From there, let's travel to Gujarat, where a crew of three including Arushi, her product designer friend Aakash and I ventured on an epic #ExploreTheInitiative 4-day handcraft mission. Raji Ben ("Ben" means "sister") one of the plastic weavers, had a beautiful story. She came from a large family of farmers whose livelihood depended on good weather and therefore good crops. Being from Gujarat, which is a desert region, there would often be periods of time where there was not sufficient rain for the crops. Though women don't typically weave, Raji Ben insisted upon learning and her uncle would travel the distance to her loom to teach her to weave, starting at the age of 15 years old in order to earn money that would sustain her family. Twenty years later is she's still weaving. She's proud of her work, and she should be - it's beautiful. 

"Nani Masi" ("little aunt") and Arushi select a color scheme for some plastic weaving samples. 

While in Gujarat we stayed at a guesthouse specifically committed to handcraft called Khamir. It's peaceful and full of various kinds of handcraft from weaving to bell-making. 

The women of Khamir, along with the cook. The woman on the left and the one in the pink and purple sitting in the middle are the ones that call me "Megan Ben". 

The other day two of the women at the guesthouse came and sat down next to me one day. They speak Hindi and no English, so Arushi has to translate everything. They asked about by henna, my tattoo, my bracelet, and then she gave me a sweet high five (they do that a lot here, but it's different than at home). She gave me a high five and then called me "Megan Ben" which means "Megan sister" - a greeting in here which is a sign of respect. She noted we both had tattoos so we took a picture (our arms side by side, the main image for this post). I love it. I'm surrounded by the most amazing people. 

My new friends: the ladies of Khamir.  

The children are drawn to me - it doesn't matter where I go, they stare and say the only English word they know, "HI!" quite enthusiastically. Even in the dark they see me. I try to blend but I can't. I had quite the conversation with a 15 year old gal on the rooftop the other night at an artisan's home. She was wondering if I knew any stars, played cricket, where I was staying that night, etc. Aakash and Arushi both laugh and say "white privilege."

These little chicks were adorable, and even let me take a selfie with them.  

Curious stares always give way to big smiles...smiles seem to diffuse any tension, and I just love this phenomenon. I'm back in Bombay for the weekend and the monsoon has arrived, which has cooled things down quite a bit. The sunset last night was epic, though I could only grab a glimpse from our cab on the way home from the airport.

Bombay Sunset

On Monday I will say "see you later" to Arushi and travel by myself to Jaipur and onward for two weeks. I'll likely write more frequently while I'm alone. The main message I want to relay is that the people of India are warm and really lovely. Sure, there are bad and broken souls too, but there are bad and broken souls everywhere in this world. The India that you see through my eyes is the India that really exists if you approach it with love, respect, patience and a wide open mind...and, okay, a bit of badassedness too - cause a vagablonde could always use some of that! Just like the women of India! 

Please let me know if there's anything you'd like to know about India - I'm happy to write on topics you're curious about. Just leave a note in the comments! 

Step 1: Move slowly. Step 2: Smile at a stranger.

We are spoiled brats.

I've been in India 3 days now. I am, by no means, an expert on India. I have no intentions to save the people of India. I am merely a traveler, with the intention to take it all in. Everyone has their own perception of a place - especially faraway places to which they've never been. Or even, faraway places where they have been. The thing is, just as with everything else in life, each experience is unique. That's one thing I love about this life, because it means we can all share with each other and marvel at the differences in our experiences. 

I arrived to Bombay not knowing what to expect with my visa issue. When I arrived to the front of the line I was told I had to go to the Immigration counter if I had an e-visa. Easy enough, I thought. Though I had been traveling for 24 hours and had arrived late (11:30pm), I was in no specific rush to get to Arushi's, apart from the fact that I felt bad for keeping her awake late. I arrive to the Immigration counter to a group of perplexed foreigners standing in a pseudo-line looking lost. No one sat at the counter we were directed to, and a disgruntled foreigner stood in front of me frustrated that she had given her fingerprints 17 times without success, and even more pissed off at the lack of a proper and reliable system. I sat back and observed, patiently. Meanwhile, behind me quite the line began to form, including a blonde haired women I had seen on the flight, who was not much younger than me, and sighing heavily. She mentioned she was from Minneapolis and we struck up a small, surface-level-Minneapolis-style conversation, before she started to voice her frustration with the wait. What I found amusing was she had expectations that the process should work just like it works in the western world. Expectations. Something that can get a traveler into dangerous territory. She had no connecting flight to catch like others behind her, yet she audibly sighed. Finally, I turned around and said, "Welcome to India...I don't think much makes sense here. I've never been, but I've prepared to be unprepared for this, which seems to make it a lot easier to handle." She looked at me and then reflected, "Yeah, I guess I should just learn to go with the flow, huh?!" Um, yeah...first lesson - and most important lesson - while traveling: go with the flow. I was up in line and made a couple of jokes with the immigration officer, he smiled and gave me the Indian head shake, which - btw - could mean "yes," "good," "ok," or "I understand" depending on the context in which it's used. I find it endearing.

This story gets better from here. I find my way to the prepaid taxi counter downstairs and purchase a cab to Jaslock Hospital on Peddar Road, near Arushi's place. Plan was to call her from taxi driver's mobile once I arrived. Cab was about 600r, or 10 dollars. Very affordable. The air outside was thick with moisture and my clothes were already sticking to me. I showed the driver my receipt and we were on our way. Palm trees lined the street leaving the airport. Traffic was already mayhem, even with the wide streets. Motorbikes zigzagging between cars, taxis honking at each other. Everyone honks. It's almost a way of saying, "Hey, I'm here!" There are no rules here. No convention. My driver was using his arm as a turn signal as cars whizzed by. That was comforting. We couldn't have been going faster than 45mph. Crawling. No worries, I wasn't in a rush. By this time is was about 1am, and I knew it would take a bit to get to Arushi's. It didn't take long before the roads narrowed and we found our way into the city. Everyone seemed to be busy, even late at night. There's this sort of mysterious, chaotic, beautiful flow of life here. Smells of spice, sweet, and smoke filled my nostrils, intoxicating me with a mixture of saffron, cardamom, fennel, mango, incense and more. India is a place for all of the senses. 

We passed by an area where bodies lined the streets - communities of peaceful, sleeping people, many women still dressed in their vibrant saris. These people aren't homeless. They live in the slums, and the roofs to their houses are constructed of tin, making the heat unbearable to sleep in in this 100+ degree heat and humidity. That is reality here. Human life is valued differently than at home in the states. While the white girl from Minnesota complains about waiting in line, thousands of Indians sleep outside on the concrete. We are spoiled brats. 

It didn't take long for me to realize we might be lost. Especially when my driver was about to drop me off at a hospital in an area that didn't look too promising to be Arushi's part of town. Turns out we were nowhere near Arushi's place, and the driver hadn't put on his glasses when reading the address. Welcome to India, where expectations can get a traveler into trouble. Slightly peeved myself, and hoping I wasn't being taken advantage of in my fixed price cab, the driver asked for directions and we were on our way to what seemed like the other end of town. He told me I told him the wrong place. I - with a tone of authority and assuredness in my voice I reserve for situations like this - said to the driver, "I showed you the receipt, with the address. I. Don't. Live. Here." I finally get a hold of Arushi on my mobile, after multiple times trying from his to no avail, and tell her we reached the wrong hospital. About 20 minutes later - an hour after we had started our journey - we reached Jaslock and I told the driver to wait until Arushi came down. He waited patiently, and to my surprise, didn't ask for more money. I know it was his misstep and not my own, but that doesn't mean I didn't expect him to ask me for more money after driving around the entire city. 2:30am and I arrived to Arushi's safely after little sleep and over 24 hours of travel.

I dove right into the culture with Arushi's guidance. I adore living like a local. Day 1 and I enjoyed traditional meals at home with Arushi's amazing family, walked around Bombay and experienced the 100+ degree weather, thankful every sweaty step of the way that I shaved my head. This is a heat like I've never experienced before. Surrounded by cars and their exhaust, sweat dripping down my legs and pooling in between my breasts. Drenched. This is no exaggeration. What I find even more fascinating is how life doesn't stop despite the heat. Construction workers bake under the Bombay sun. Farmers sell their vegetables at the market without a shaded seat. Life goes on. People keep moving because they can't afford not to. Arushi told me yesterday as we walked through the crowded train station, "People in Bombay are always rushing, but they're never on time." It's true. 

I'm not sure you realize how many people live in India. The population of India is 1.3 billion people. The land mass is 3,287,590 km2. The population of the U.S. is about 330 million but the land mass is 9,857,306 km2. That is crazy. You can fit India into the west coast of the U.S. yet there are 1 billion more people in India. Imagine that.

Arushi helped me ward off jet lag on day 1 by wowing me with all the textiles we'd be encountering when visiting the Gujarat region...insanely beautiful Ikat and and block printing textiles that I can see opportunities for in creating everything from bow ties to pocket squares and ready-to-travel clothing. I am in textile heaven, and Arushi is my guiding light. 

The first night I was in Bombay Arushi's mom invited me to a "fireside chat," basically a community of people who meet once a month to discuss a topic in community. The topic was Life and Death. What a beautiful experience to spend time with a group of locals from all faith backgrounds and discuss such a topic. What is the purpose of life? I answered, "To bring joy to others, and do what I can to make others' lives a little bit easier...I can't express the feeling of making someone smile who you did not expect to see smile. The purpose of life is to serve." I believe it more every day...here I look for opportunities to connect with people who don't
speak my language through a smile. It always works. The universal language. 

Life is different here. But it's equally beautiful, and the people are incredibly hard-working and resilient. As I move slowly though it all, I'm consistently reminded of how lucky I am to live where I do and have the family and opportunities that I have, but I'm also reminded of how similar we all are, and how a smile can unite and connect us all, despite the cultural boundaries.

1 year ago today.

On my 32nd birthday (May 15), I received the following message from my mother. A thoughtful, perfect message only a mother who knows me so well could think up. It said, "What an amazing ride it has been! You have been a lesson for us since the beginning. I swear, mothers can't feel their babies move at 13 weeks but you already were looking for a way out. By about 32 weeks you were consistently screwing your head, I thought trying to screw your way out! You were #vagablonde from before birth.

The past year you have found yourself again, and you have found happiness! We rejoice with you in your authentic self and wish you a very Happy Birthday!"

Twelve months ago today I arrived in Dallas, where I had moved my life from Minneapolis. Today I start a new chapter of my life, as I jet to India. This was no coincidence. It was very intentional...all part of a greater plan. A plan that involves death and rebirth. A redefinition of self. Here I am.

In India, I want to experience it all. Equal amounts of chaos and calm. I want to get lost in the masses. I want to drown in chai...be overwhelmed by the sounds and the smells. A wise friend told me the other day that India will give me exactly the amount of chaos and calm that I can handle - no more and no less. I know I'm not ready for it, but I'm ready to be not ready. Prepared to be completely knocked on my ass and shaken up. India is otherworldly. And I guess I should mention it's a miracle that I'm even where I am right now. 

You see, I discovered yesterday that I had completely forgotten to apply for a visa. Yep. You heard me. You see, the government advises travelers to apply for a visa well in advance, but for certain no less than four days in advance for acquisition of an e-visa. There I sat, at work, 18 hours before my flight was supposed to depart for MSP and then onward to CDG and BOM. Holy shit. - Spoiler Alert! - I sit here, now, on the flight to Paris, watching "The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" and I giggle to myself when the owner of the hotel says, "Fail to prepare, prepare to fail." I giggle because it's exactly what happened to me yesterday. I feel like - in a very bizarre way - I experienced an extremely miniscule peek into what life in India will be like: consistent contradictions. Nonsensical beauty. Bring it on.

Here's what went down: my colleague Carol asked me if I had a visa. I got a bit - and I emphasize the word 'bit' - nervous, but, as I normally approach situations based on what I've learned so many times, things always have a way of working themselves out. I had zero clue what I was getting myself into, and it was a textbook Megan misadventure...those of you who know me can attest to that. Everything that could go wrong seemed to go wrong: first, I didn't know what was a reputable source for acquiring a visa, second I had no clue what would happen if I didn't have one...and thought there might be VOA like in Istanbul. Tried the e-visa site three times, no luck. Drove back to Salt Lake from Park City to pick up my visa from home. Tried to call Indian consulate in San Fran 9 times...it rang and rang. At this point it was about 2pm and I started getting slightly anxious. Tried to call Delta; they said they'd waive the change fee but had no answers for me about what would happen if I got on the first flight to Minneapolis. Turns out I snagged myself trip insurance...probably for the first time ever. Phew. What I learned about trip insurance was sobering though - it turns out it likely wouldn't cover a strong case of the blondes. Shit. It was on my second trip pack to Salt Lake at around 4pm that I started sweating a little bit. Called a visa agency in Santa. Monica and started the journey deeper into the unknown. Good thing I had excellent travel companions in Ladan and Jennifer from Ambassador Passport and Visa. Seriously,  those women are saints in my book and saved the day. 

In the meantime, I kept a smile on my face and came up with a plan, and I called Scotty - one of the most positive, encouraging souls in my life, who encouraged me to keep on smiling. What he didn't know was that the entire time I was really just thinking 'What would Scotty do?' An intrepid traveler with equal amounts of joy and travel mishaps endured, Scotty has a way of authentically charming everyone in his path and making everything work out. But that's no accident. It's by design. It's called Karma. Back to Park City and to dinner with two of my favorites Eirik and Stacey, and a visit from a third Alice...I think they believed more than me that it would all work out. Back to SLC, yet again, I started packing. About 8 phone calls and 15 email exchanges with Ladan and Jennifer later, and I still had hope but knew the 72-hr turnaround was a very real possibility. 

Called friends and my mom, dad and sister and devised a plan to drive myself to the airport and figure it out in the morning if the visa had not yet arrived in my inbox. Meanwhile, some of my craziest work traveling friends couldn't believe I had flaked on the visa. I just laughed. And packed. And prayed. In classic vagablonde style, I went to bed at 3am with a plan to awake at 7am and start the journey, hoping that if the visa wasn't there yet, it would be by the time I arrived in Paris...and then the worst that could happen was a few nights in ol' Paris. Not too shabby. 7am came fast. Awoken by Gaga's "Gypsy," and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I grabbed my phone. I let the emails load. 

And there it was. Visa status: GRANTED.

WHAT?! I jumped out of bed with anticipation and gratitude - and disbelief - and texted my best friend Ana, who dropped what she was doing to see me on my way. I grabbed the least amount of luggage I've ever traveled with: a Topo Designs Travel Pack and the Trip Bag that clips onto it, and  my Ethnotek Vietnam 6 Setia Pack. Ho.ly.shit! The power of positive thinking. For a brief moment there, I was convinced this was a sign I shouldn't embark on this journey just yet. But it was fleeting. And here I am, landing in Paris as I write this. 

1 year from the day. I was meant to get on the plane today. This was no mistake. It was by design...just like when I was 13 weeks old, looking for a more efficient way out and ready to take on the world.

India, here I come!

#vagablonde: an origin story

The concept of #vagablonde was born out of a social media post where I tagged #blondevagabond last fall as I started my adventure around Europe with the U.S. Ski Team and numerous friends came up with the nomenclature #vagablonde. It's perfect. The hashtag speaks to social media and connection of like-minded things. With white blonde hair and a passion for travel, it just made sense. Voila! My first book title was born. Now I just have to write the book, right?!

I've always been enthralled with storytelling. A few years ago while living in Prague, Czech Republic, I was riding the tram to Palackého náměstí listening to a local musician strum his guitar—the edges of my lips turned up and my eyes sparkling with joy at the sight—and I thought to myself, "I need to share these stories...stories of the people I meet and how we met." I'm reminded how small this world is over and over when I'm blown away of stories of connection and I've learned to be a student of life, taking the opportunity to learn from those around me and from my own misadventures.

"The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun." — Chris McCandless

So this is the start of my journey, and part of your job is to hold me accountable. I'll write a collection of short stories from my travels and package it up with a lesson learned in hopes that my story and the stories of those I've encountered on my journey will allow you to think, look at the world with different eyes, or even inspire you.

A few of the many lessons I've learned in the last 32 years on this Earth:
1. The Universe—God—whatever...is big and powerful.
2. Sometimes you just gotta run.
3. Go to your happy place.
4. It's okay to dream. BIG.
5. Fail. Please. Fail.
6. In your body is a good place to be.
7. Strong is beautiful.
8. If you're unhappy where you are, make a change.
9. Never be afraid to ask for directions. This applies to foreign travels and life lessons alike.
10. Be fearlessly YOU.
11. A roadtrip is always a good idea.
12. Nothing is impossible.
13. Don't be afraid. The worst thing anyone can tell you is "no".
14. Manifestation is a real thing. Be open.
15. Every interaction—every person in  your life—is an opportunity to learn and grow.
16. The Universe will never give you more than you can handle.
17. An Irishman's charm is always worth your attention.
18. Sometimes when you have nothing, everything finds you.
19. If you get the opportunity to travel. Don't think too hard. Just go.
20. Surf in Ireland.
21. Trust your gut.
22. Be mindful when dancing with the locals.
23. Move slowly. And with intention.
24. Weird is so, so rad.
25. Experience>Stuff
26. Travel alone.
27. Above all else, be true to yourself.
28. Show gratitude. Karma's a bitch.
29. When you don't think you can fight anymore, keep fighting.
30. Faithfulness is a beautiful gift.
31. Vulnerability is beautiful.
32. Life isn't short. Live every moment fully and wholly.
33. Be nice to your body. And mind.
34. Everyone has a story. Listen.
35. Sometimes the most unlikely, motley crew of people can be your tightest crew.
36. Not everyone needs to see things the way you see things.
37. Resilience is within us all.
38. Everyone enters your life for a reason. Find that reason.
39.  Selflessness is the most admirable trait you can possess.
40. Community is everything.
41. Giving is living.
42. Move and flow with nature.
43. Be the best version of yourself.
44. Even if you think you can't, you can.
45. If you have the ability to change the course of someone's day, do it.
46. Cultural boundaries can easily be broken with a smile. Or a few vodka shots.
47. Smile at a stranger.
48. Connect. Authentically.

This is just a rough outline of the lessons I've learned. Some of it is redundant. But behind each lesson is a story. I can't wait to share them with you. Thank you, from deep within my soul, for joining me on this journey.

Big love,

Megan