It's hot here.

So, it is official.
Although I was hoping to return to the States earlier than my original date, I am destined to stay.
Until June 12th that is.

I've been back in Amritsar now for a week and a half and have spent most of my time reading, learning to cook Indian dishes, sweating, and drinking water.
The weather turned pretty darn hot a few weeks ago, but for the past week it has been especially miserable.
It's consistently above 105 degrees during the day (113 degrees on Wednesday and Thursday), and although the internet tells me that it cools down to the 80's at night, I don't think that's the case in Naniji and Nanaji's home.
We're on the 2nd floor of a flat with no air conditioning.
There are fans on the ceiling, but the fans honestly don't seem to cool things down a bit, just stir hot air around making one even more aware of the oppressive heat.

It really is oppressive.
I spend my nights miserably tossing and turning on top of sweat soaked sheets.
I am happy to declare, however, that I think I have found a (good enough) solution!
It involves a shower and a fan.

Step 1: Remove sweaty clothing
Step 2: Shower
Step 3: Avoid towel. Instead, simply stand in bedroom with ceiling fan on full blast and let evaporation do all the work.

This process allows approximately 60 seconds of relief.

Yes. In the past 24 hours I have taken EIGHT showers total (2 of which were in the middle of the night) and I have a feeling this number will increase exponentially as the days and nights go on.


So here's the thing.
India gets hot during the summer.
Like really freaking hot.
To the point where lots of people won't go anywhere outside between 12pm-4pm.


What I don't understand, is why people continue to cook food that's spicy enough to heat a person up in the dead of a Michigan winter, during summer.

Fruit and Vegetable Stands.

I'm going to miss being able to simply walk down the street to buy whatever fruits and vegetables I desire.
No car is needed. No cash register. No line.
Just my solid two feet and a few rupees.

A Passage From The Fifth Mountain

 I just finished reading Paulo Coehlo's novel The Fifth Mountain.
The book is filled with black lines left behind by the ink of my pen.
There was so much in the novel that I connected to...in ways that I can't fully describe.
I felt like the words on the pages were a reflection of my thoughts, my doubts, and my struggles. But it went beyond mere reflection;  I found inspiration and encouragement within the pages as well.

There are so many passages and sentences that I want to post on here, but I will stick with one for now.
It's long, but I encourage you to actually read it.
For those who know me well, you might understand why I connect so much with this.
And for those who don't know me well, or maybe do but don't see the connection, maybe these words will inspire something for you.

That Night, a man entered Jacob's tent and wrestled with him until the break of day. And when he saw that he prevailed not against him, he said, "Let me go."
Jacob answered, "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me."
Then the man said to him: "As a prince, has thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed. What is thy name?" And he said, Jacob.
And the man answered: "Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel."

"Elijah awoke with a start and looked at the firmament. That was the story that was missing!

Long ago, the patriarch Jacob had encamped, and during the night, someone had entered his tent and wrestled with him until daybreak. Jacob accepted the combat, even knowing that his adversary was the Lord. At morning, he had still not been defeated: and the combat ceased only when God agreed to bless him.

The story had been transmitted from generation to generation so that no one would ever forget: sometimes it was necessary to struggle with God. Every human being at some time had tragedy enter his life: it might be the destruction of a city, the death of a son, an unproved accusation, a sickness that left one lame forever. At that moment, God challenged one to confront Him and to answer His question: 'Why dost thou cling fast to an existence so short and so filled with suffering? What is the meaning of thy struggle?'

The man who did not know how to answer this question would resign himself, while another, one who sought a meaning to existence, feeling that God had been unjust, would challenge his own destiny. It was at this moment that fire of a different type descended from the heavens--not the fire that kills but the kind that tears down ancient walls and imparts to each human being his true possibilities. Cowards never allow their hearts to blaze with this fire; all they desire is for the changed situation to quickly return to what it was before, so they can go on living their lives and thinking in their customary way. The brave, however, set afire that which was old and, even at the cost of great internal suffering, abandon everything, including God, and continue onward.

'The brave are always stubborn.'

From heaven, God smiles contentedly, for it was this that He desired, that each person take into his hands the responsibility for his own life. For, in the final analysis, He had given His children the greatest of all gifts: the capacity to choose and determine their acts.

Only those men and women with the sacred flame in their hearts had the courage to confront Him. And they alone knew the path back to His love, for they understood that tragedy was not punishment but challenge.

Elijah retraced in his mind each of his steps. Upon leaving the carpentry shop, he had accepted his mission without dispute. Even though it was real--and he felt it was--he had never had the opportunity to see what was happening in the paths that he had chosen not to follow because he feared losing his faith, his dedication, his will. He thought it was very dangerous to experience the path of common folk--he might become accustomed to it and find pleasure in what he saw. He did not understand that he was a person like any other, even if he heard angels and now and again received orders from God; in his certainty that he knew what he wanted, he had acted in the selfsame way as those who at no time in their lives had ever made an important decision.

He had fled from doubt. From defeat. From moments of indecision. But the Lord was generous and had led him to the abyss of the unavoidable, to show him that man must choose--and not accept--his fate.

Many, many years before, on a night like this, Jacob had not allowed God to leave without blessing him. It was then that the Lord had asked: 'What is thy name?'

The essential point was this: to have a name. When Jacob had answered, God had baptized him Israel. Each one has a name from birth but must learn to baptize his life with the word he has chosen to give meaning to that life.

'I am Akbar,' she had said.

The destruction of the city and the death of the woman he loved had been necessary for Elijah to understand that he too must have a name. And at that moment he named his life Liberation."


Coehlo, Paul. The Fifth Mountain. pgs 203-206.

The one thing I am truly grateful I brought

That would be Wendell Berry's book of poetry called LEAVINGS.

Never before have I experienced a book in which every single page spoke directly into my soul.


As I type these words I imagine my mother reading this entry and responding to me later in conversation that, "Kayla that's the role that Scripture should take. That's how you should feel about reading God's Word."

But this is a time in my life in which I feel almost nothing while reading Scripture. Just confusion, frustration, and sometimes even anger. Anger because I don't know how to read Scripture anymore. I no longer know how to interpret the words on the pages.
What should I take literally? What should I take metaphorically? What should I read as being completely 100% accurate and what should I read as a historical account written from one perspective? What should be interpreted in a cultural context and what transcends all cultures?


So since I don't know how to approach what I read...how to internalize and interpret...I have a hard time confronting the pages. It only leads to questions and questions and questions that don't seem to ever be answered.

Going back to Wendell Berry though; right now, in this country, I feel closest to God when I read his writings. Maybe this isn't how it should be, but this is how it is. And I am grateful to have at least this.


"I know that I have life
only insofar as I have love.

I have no love
except it come from Thee.

Help me, please, to carry 
this candle against the wind."




VII.

"Having written some pages in favor of Jesus,
I receive a solemn communication crediting me
with the possession of a "theology" by which
I acquire the strange dignity of being wrong
forever or forever right. Have I gauged exactly
enough the weights of sins? Have I found
too much of the Hereafter in the Here? Or
the other way around? Have I found too much
pleasure, too much beauty and goodness, in this
our unreturning world? O Lord, please forgive
any smidgen of such distinctions I may
have still in my mind. I meant to leave them
all behind a long time ago. If I'm a theologian
I am one to the extent I have learned to duck
when the small, haughty doctrines fly overhead,
dropping their loads of whitewash at random
on the faces of those who look toward Heaven.
Look down, look down, and save your soul
by honester dirt, that receives with a lordly
indifference this off-fall of the air. Christmas
night and Easter morning are this soil's only laws.
The depth and volume of the waters of baptism,
the true taxonomy of sins, the field marks
of those most surely saved, God's own only true
interpretation of the Scripture: these would be
causes of eternal amusement, could we forget
how we have hated one another, how vilified
and hurt and killed one another, bloodying
the world, by means of such questions, wrongly
asked, never to be rightly answered, but asked and
wrongly answered, hour after hour, day after day,
year after year — such is my belief — in Hell."

Next?

And for all those who are wondering what's next for me since I still have six more weeks in India...

I will either be heading to Dehradun to work on a farm or returning to Amritsar and hopefully take sewing lessons.

It is still unknown.

Soon to be Solo

The day is almost upon us when Satpreet and I go our separate ways.

Of course there will be a lot that happens before then.
 We still have Navi's engagement to go to on Saturday, and all the final preparation for it tomorrow (I've been informed we're getting henna done. Woot woot!).

But to be completely honest I'm sad to say goodbye.
There has always been so much depth to my friendship with Satpreet. But this trip has given our friendship width.
So much width.
And it's sad to know that this probably won't happen again. I'm not referring to the India part. Not even the part where we're together nearly 24 hours a day. I just mean we probably won't ever be in the same place for this long again.

But I am thankful for the time that we have had. So unbelievably thankful.
We've learned so much more about each other and the world these past few weeks. I think a big part of the reason why I haven't written very much in my blog or journal, is because we are constantly processing things together in conversation. By the time my fingers get a hold of a pen or a keyboard I feel like there's nothing left to express. I've already let the contents of my heart spill out in speech.

So I will miss Satpreet come next week when she returns to the States and I move on to whatever it is that I'm going to do. But I am excited for the summer she has ahead at Penland. It will be full of creativity, beautiful art, and wonderful people. And I'm excited for what lies ahead in her future. Because God has given her a mind and a spirit that is capable of so much.

Things to Learn

I've started making a list of things I want to learn/skills I want to acquire.
Let me share a few.

Sewing.
Not just a bit of stitching so I can fix clothes that start to fall apart, but I want to learn how to make my own clothing.

Knitting/Crocheting.
I already know to do some knitting, but I want to learn more techniques and once again, be able to make my own sweaters, hats, blankets, etc.

The Process of Making Yarn.
From start to finish...Raising the sheep to dying the wool to spinning the yarn.

The Ability to Identify Useful Plants in the Wild.
Do I really need to explain much more? How cool would it be to be able to identify the edible and inedible. The plants you can use to make your own teas, plants for dying, plants for...well just knowing what they are.

Fluency in a second (and hopefully a third) Language.
Traveling in India with Satpreet, who can speak Punjabi and Hindi, has only solidified this desire so much more. I will become fluent in another language be it Spanish, Arabic, French, or another.

Gardening/Farming.
I want to continue learning more about the soil we walk on and how to grow food and beautiful plants in it.

Identifying Animal Tracks/Waste.
Hmmm. May seem like something an eight year old boy would be obsessed with. Well, when I was six I wanted to be an eight year old boy...so it makes sense right?

Photography.
It'd be nice to learn how to capture (without photoshop) the beauty of the world through a lens.


Ok, that's it for now, but there is soooo much more. Most of which I can't remember at the moment.

Back in Amritsar

Back in Amritsar and it feels like home.


For those who are disappointed with my lack of blog posts, here is the link to Satpreet's blog.
Her entries have been scarce as well, but at least it will fill the picture in a little bit more.

Satpreet's Blog

Kashmir

Never in my life have I been so aware of being a female. Never in my life have I resented this simple fact so much. It is truly a man's world, and anyone who tries to deny it is blind.

Palampur

My digestive system dislikes India more than any other country I have visited.
This is unfortunate because I love Indian food.

Pregnant is how I look and pregnant is how I feel.

No amount of Papaya or medications help.

Maybe I'm doomed to remain this way forever...but if ever it passes I promise to never take a fully functioning digestive system for granted again. I promise.

Mcleod Ganj

Mountains.
Fresh, clean air.
Greenery without the layer of dust that is found everywhere else.
Travelers from all over the world.
A fusion of cultures.

This is Mcleod Ganj.



But after only a few days of being here, we are disillusioned and ready to move on because it is full of travelers who remind us what tourism and "traveling" really is: Consumerism.

We are consuming culture. We are consuming experiences and places and interactions as if (as Satpreet would say) "they are one more token" to add to the pile and brag about.

But how to make it more meaningful?

So maybe one last day to visit the Buddhist temples and learn more about the Tibet/China issue and then we move on.

Amritsar

Most of the past week has been full of time with Satpreet's grandparents and more relatives than I can possibly keep track of.

"Remember when I explained (insert the name of a relative) to you the other day?"
"She's the one..." "He's the one who..."
"Don't you remember?"

No, I can't keep track of all the faces, the names, the stories.

But it's been fun to see a different side of a dear friend's life. The side that most have not and will not get to see.

And had I come to India on my own, I never would have gotten to experience so intimately the culture and people.


Today we finally get our Indian clothing that we have been waiting for.
Tonight we go to the border of Pakistan and India.
And tomorrow we get on a crowded bus and head to the mountains- to Mcleod Ganj.

Amritsar

We have spent nearly a week in Amritsar and will be leaving tomorrow. No we did not plan on staying so long, but who could so easily leave such a wonderful grandmother as Naniji?

Naniji is all things sweet and loving. How beautiful it has been to see the exchange of affection between grandmother and granddaughter, and to even be welcomed into the exchange.

It has been so long since I have spent time with a grandmother.
Not since I was nine years old.

So thank  you Naniji for sharing your love with me.

Chandigarh

(Written on Saturday)

So after over 18 hours of flight and a layover in Switzerland, Satpreet and I made it to Delhi.

Some of you know of my fear of flying that has become more extreme the past few years...Thankfully these flights were amazingly smooth and (almost) anxiety free for me. 

Anyway, we made it to Delhi sometime after midnight Thursday morning and were picked up by Satpreet's future brother-in-law (whom I must add she nor none of her family-including her sister-had ever met in person before). We drove through the night to Chandigarh, the city Harpreet (future brother-in-law) is from, and what an interesting five hour drive it was... Even though I had heard stories of how crazy the driving is in India, I still wasn't prepared for adrenaline rush it provides. Never in my life have I experienced such insanity on the road. 

The past two days have consisted of eating massive amounts of food. Imagine the feeling you get after eating an entire Chipotle burrito in one sitting...that is the feeling we've had all day every day so far because we have been fed so much by Harpreet's family. And of course we must eat no matter how full we are, because in almost every culture it is rude to refuse.

Beside eating until nauseous, we have been able to explore a bit of Chandigarh and surrounding areas.  Harpreet took us to Gurudwara Jyoti Sarup Sahib. Gurudwaras are to Sikhs like a church is to Christians or a mosque to Muslims. This Gurudwara is special though in the sense that the 10th Sikh Guru's sons were martyred here.the younger (ages 7 and 9) sons of Guru Gobind Singh were bricked (burned alive in a small brick hut) here.

We also went to another Gurdwara that is tied to the 10th Guru and his sons, but the name is escaping me at the moment. It's been interesting to experience visits to Gurdwara's and notice the similarities and differences with the "house of God" of other faiths.

But that is all for now...

Our India Route

We have officially mapped out our travels!


One major change to plans: we're no longer going to southern India.

We had planned to travel to Goa (a spanish influenced tropical beach town), but have decided to travel to eastern India instead so that we can visit Darjeeling (think mountains and tea plantations), Bodhgaya (think Siddhārtha Gautama Buddha), Varinasa (the iconic holy city overlooking the Ganges) and Ajanta Caves (think ancient buddhist paintings in caves).

Here is the planned route:

Watch out India! Kaypreet duo comin yo way. Hollllaaa.

India

Alright, we all know that I am not the best with communicating via technology (phone calls, texts, facebook, email, etc.). So for those that I have not kept in the loop, I am leaving for India on March 27th and I will be there until June 12th.

11 weeks in India.

The first 6 weeks will be spent with my dear friend Satpreet, visiting her relatives who live in the northern region of the country and exploring areas like Agra,  Jaipur, Jodhpur, Amritsar, Mcleod Ganj, and Goa.

The other 5 weeks I will (hopefully) spend on a farm in Dehradun. And do a little bit of travel on the weekends. And if that doesn't work out, well there's always good old WWOOF to help me out.



What's my motivation for going to India?

Well, to be honest I'm not entirely sure. In a way this trip has sort of fallen in my lap.
The idea of India only came about a few months ago as I was trying to plan a different kind of trip.
I was hoping to make my way to Lebanon, which has been a dream of mine for a very long time, and spend somewhere between 6-9 months working with a ministry or non-profit of some sort.

During that time, the idea of going to India with Satpreet surfaced. I thought that I could spend a month traveling India before making my way to the Middle East. But two events in the States sprung up that changed that: a family reunion in June and a wedding in August.

This family reunion is not just any old family reunion. It is a Barkett family reunion.
I only get to see my relatives on my Dad's side of the family when there is a wedding...meaning on average I see them once every 5 years maybe?
But it's not just that. This is an opportunity to learn more about my family history. My heritage. My roots. It's a family reunion including any/all Lebanese Barketts, especially those related to Saiid Azzam Barkett (my great grandfather who came to the United States from Marjeyoun, Lebanon).
This, to me, is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I can choose to visit Lebanon in the future (as long as the country remains stable). And I most definitely will. But I do not have the same control over an event such as this reunion.

The other event that draws me back to the States is the wedding of one of my best friends in California. I would not in a million years consider missing it.


If it were only one of these events that I would be attending then I would simply spend the money it would cost to fly back and then return to the country I would be working in. But it is not. So, instead of embarking on a long awaited journey back to the Middle East, I am traveling to India.

As the day of departure nears and I research more of India, my excitement grows. There is so much diversity in the country. So much beauty. From the mountains of Himachal Pradesh to the beaches of Goa to the backwaters of Kerala and the desert of Rajasthan. Sikkhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Buddhism, Jainism, Islam.

So much to see and experience in one country.

This stuff has got to go.

Much of this past week at home has been spent purging my room of the things I have held on to over the years. Things like clothing, trophies, school binders (dating back to middle school?!), trinkets, gifts, etc... Things I haven't used--will never use--but have not been able to let go of because they remind me of a person, a period in my life, an event, or simply a feeling.

Well, I am finally getting rid of it.
Not quite all of it, but definitely most of it.

And when I started it was a little scary.
I love to be reminded of the past...
and these things I've held on to, in a way, guaranteed that I would never forget those events, people, moments, and feelings.

But realistically it's not possible to hold on to all these things. They take up space. So much space. And for what? To look at once every couple of years?

So I am letting go. I am throwing away and giving away.

And now it just feels good. So good.

Back to the Mitten

So tomorrow I am officially moving from Santa Barbara, my home of the past 4 1/2 years, back to Muskegon, MI.
Well, sort of.

More like I'm moving my things back to Muskegon.
Hopefully I myself will only be there for a few weeks before moving on to other parts of the world.

At the moment I am still very uncertain of where exactly those "other parts of the world" will be and for how long.
But that is what these next few weeks at home are for, planning.