Music from the heart

Sitting in a restaurant while Tom is playing the guitar, and watching the people around me. There is an Indian couple in the mid forties who I believe to be lovers. They smoke their joint, laugh coquettishly at each others stupid jokes and occasionally clap to Tom's songs. There is the Darjeeling band – a couple who will go on stage soon. They are both skinny, tall, young, and enjoying their fame as musicians. Now it seems like too much work for them and they do not like too much work which, of course, comes only naturally with a fate of rich and famous (I doubt about the rich part though...). The girl has developed crazy manners as a real rockstar; she says she is too tired  to sing, she does not want this and she does not want that. I am wondering if they are indeed going to play tonight since they seem like having a huge fight for whatever reason. 
There is a table with Americans who I have known from before. They are enjoying Tom's music.
And then, there is my dear Tom. He is always a bit nervous before a gig, as each of us would be. However, as soon as he sat at the mic tonight, and realized the sound is a total crap and moreover nothing could be done about it (while the owner of the venue was running helplessly around, fiddling with this and that, not realizing the whole equipment would be best if just thrown into the bin) I think Tom had no other choice only to loosen up since nothing else can get worse. So he started enjoying himself, playing, singing and then suddenly, all that nervousness I was sensing from the whole place, just disappeared. I could feel the energy from him entering our souls... Even I want to keep listening to the songs I've heard him singing for the Nth time. I feel a strength, almost a divine power inside me mixed with a feeling of joy. Joy for whatever reason and no reason at all. I want to keep singing with him, I smile idiotically and do nothing .. well, I gotta go now, I want to listen to him more and more and more...

At least the bottle was saved...

An update on our journey in India.

When I thought nothing else could surprise me in India I learned a new lesson- yes, there could always be a surprise. Like the heavy rain on Goa when it was supposed to be the best weather. Unfortunately, this little surprise resulted in even much bigger one - the room we are staying in was completely flooded.

Eeeeeverything was wet... Btw this was a last pic I could do on my  full SD card :) what a coincidence

Too much money

It's the last day of October and we are about to leave Gorakphur, the biggest intersection for people traveling to and from Nepal.
AND we are shorter of 72 US dollars !!!??? Ace! :(

At this very moment I am sitting in a packed train in a general class, as usual. However due to a few police officers feeling sorry for us we got the best seats; the most comfortable ones, in the aisle by the windows. Millions of Indians are pushing each other around me but I am in the safe zone. I feel as if the luck was coming back to us. But let's start from the very beginning, shall we?

After three months of making, selling,saving up money, and budgeting in Pokhara, it was time for us to leave the place. The last three days of our stay was decided to be spent as holidays. In the end, we did really deserve some time off. We rented a bike and went to see the lakes around the city. We went for the pizza anytime we felt like it, and we stopped counting our daily budget. Funnily enough the budget had not changed anyway- apart from the expenses for the bike. 

Looks cool, huh? But in fact it isn't much.. All gone now

On the last day I was supposed to change all the money we saved up to Indian rupees. I didn't have a lot of cash and yet it was so difficult to find places where they would have an Indian currency.  I checked the money changers- no Indian rupees available. Only in one kiosk, however they gave me a very bad rate (Nepali rupee to Indian is fixed at 1:1.6 since 1994, but these people want 'commission' from literally everything). I went to the bank. No Indian currency either- why anyway, since the rate is pegged therefore it is not profitable for the Nepalese banks to have stock in that currency. Rastra National Bank offered to change only 2000 rupees per person. Well, we would need A LOT of persons to do it this way.

My story of Kathmandu

The one about how I got cooties, how I forgot my contacts, how I found true bugs on my bedsheets in two different hotels, how I bought the most expensive crystals in a place where they should give it out for free and how, in the end of my journey, I met the most amazing people.

Life is a bag of coincidences

Life is full of chances, of opportunities and coincidences.
Life is unexpected yet astonishing in its beauty. Life is fragile and precious. Every single moment is frail and needs to be kept carefully in our minds, locked in the cherished memories.

Here I am, just sitting with two inspiring people; sitting by the lake where I spent almost three months selling macrame; but now I am simply enjoying the view and appreciating the free time- the holidays I have earned, the time of not having to worry about the money, people, about anything.
It was a chain of coincidences which brought all of us here.

One for the morning

I woke up this morning,
wondering aimelessly about the day,
wondering again in the pain,
what is a hapiness, what is the gain
of the life itself

what to do, where to go,
how to behave, and so
i realized the death might be
the only answer I see

so I went back to my room
made love to my husband
and killed him soon
before I'd be doomed
in this relationship
full of shit.

Coconut lady

At the end I upgraded from the old pink blanket to this purple one :)

One comes to Nepal for the nature, for trekking and mountain climbing. People visit Pokhara for the fresh air and holidays. They come and spend their money as one would on the vacation. I, however, went there to work and make money.

Me and Tom came to Nepal three months ago. I had some cash and 8 pounds in my bank account and … and that was pretty much it. We knew we would spend the money very quickly; considering we planned to go back to India we needed additional at least 4900 rupees – times two- for the visa. Of course, we also wanted to save up a little bit. Hence there was only one option: start earning. Since Tomas is an artist of multiple talents, I never doubted he could make anything possible.  And since I am a born businessperson, I knew I am able to cash all this anything. 

Let's talk about sex baby

It's your best girlfriend's wedding anniversary. Or a birthday. So you want to get her a dildo as a joke. Or you just simply wish to spicy up your sex life. Or you are single and bored. So you want to buy a sex toy.
Whatever the reasons are they are all valid, innocent, playful, and harmless. And yet, some countries banned porn and sex toys.
Recently I found out there is only one sex shop in Kathmandu, in fact in whole of Nepal. And then my further research showed that buying or selling sex toys- or porn movies- are banned in India! Seriously? So half of your population are horny men masturbating on women on the buses, wanking their dicks at every single opportunity, but you ban the porn? As if that would make all the issues to disappear. My humble opinion is that pornographic images would help people to let the steam off, and certainly not make them run to the street and rape the first girl. 

The people I met in Pokhara

I met many interesting people during my travels.

I met a Spanish guy, who by the way not at all looks like a Spaniard- his hippie long hair goes to all directions, unattended beard and clothes suggests he is a long time traveller and his image is finished with big glasses similar to those Russians used to wear 30 years ago. He travelled all over the world, and survived in beautiful beaches of Hawai only with his macrame. His pieces are brilliant; a true masterpieces with soul and a beating heart.

To be alone or not to be

Longingness for loneliness should be perfectly normal and acceptable. It is not.

However there is a difference between being alone, and being lonely. Everyone needs, and should be, sometimes alone. In order to understand oneself.. to listen to one's own thoughts, to comprehend one's own mind, to evaluate our life, to better ourselves.

The green dress

I’m in love.
I'm so in love.

His bare, strong shoulders are pressing against my body which is on flames, burning like a torch whilst the blood in my veins circulate faster than the particles in the Hadron Collider while my breath halts, my ears fizz from the heat, my nipples grow strong and the butterflies in my abdomen are about to kill each other in their fierce skirmish. His eyes are fearless and tender; staring down on me, without a word or even without performing a slightest eyelid exercise. I fear nothing as his arms descend unhurriedly down my back toward the pair of my round half moons, sticking out like whores on a busy street trying to attract a truck driver. He presses softly into my ass, curving tiny apertures and burying himself into my fresh flesh. My horny corpse succumbs as his hard penis forced its way to my innards and I quietly cried out the groan of a lust…. I think I’m in love.

The street really teaches you a lesson

Today I have learned many new things. Firstly, I found out that people who I had always avoided are actually quite great and secondly I, once again, realized that the sun always comes out after the rain...

For the past few days I was quite sad due to the unknown future which is unfolding in front of me only with tiny baby steps and moreover, due to the fact that I am quite incapable. Therefore the happenings of today really boosted my self-confidence, that of as a person and as a seller.

The princess

Written for my husband. I even don't know why... ;)

in the faraway land where we met
where my eyes met yours I keep coming back
to find you again my love my wife
to pretend you are still here my dear

What am I good for?

I have a problem and I, for the world, do not know what to do about it.
Few times in my life I happened to be very low on cash. I had money for a month only but somehow I did not seem to worry about it too much. Somehow, I'll make it through. And I always had. However, for the first time I am really worried about my finances.
You see, I would not call myself a greedy woman. No, in fact I think money change character; too little money makes you miserable, too much money makes you greedy. I think money is no good for us and the way I see it, it has always been just a necessary means of survival, just a social norm. So why on earth am I worried this time?
I became annoyed, count every single penny, and most of all, each day I cry because I don't know what to do next. Would I be able to find some sort of income soon? A job? A little something on the side?
The circumstances are a bit different this time though. I am responsible for one more person; for my husband. So firstly, I think this is why I am being so overly sensitive (it's not anymore about me being hungry, it's about getting food for a person I hold most dear ) and secondly, well to tell you the truth: I did try to earn some money and I was not as lucky as my other half who, let's be honest, puts sooo much less effort into it (I am referring to the selling part of course.. he actually makes all the stuff) but due to his karma, goodness, looks or who knows what, sells simple stuff for a very good price! Why the heck is he so lucky?? Of course, I am happy at least one of us keeps the family alive, but candidly... I feel as if I failed. I promised myself I will get the income for us but I am not able to. Moreover I am way much better businessperson as he is; yet I am not lucky. One more reason for my frustration is that all this is only reminding me how much would it be better if only I possessed some skills: I can't play any musical instrument, I can't do macrame, sew, make bracelets, carve coconuts or god knows what else my husband is capable of!

The worst part is that he is not aware of his talents (or better to say how easy would it be to make the cash out of it). Anyway, I wrote this post because I have too many questions and no answers. Is there anything I could do better? (of course there is! There always is. But what?!?)

Naturally bad

 I recently finished reading a fantastic book. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl. 

What a beautiful, inspiring and wise young girl she had become! Especially the last third of the book shows her true wisdom. She often deals with matters like war, racial issues, feminism... I completely agree with everything Anne has to say and I am astonished; my blood literally stops at the thought of the wisdom this young girl possessed. Things, which we were able to comprehend only after a life time of experience, she grasped at a very young age, so easily, so progressively.

The 'best' job ever

I am a bra fitter.
And it's not such a cool job as everyone thinks. Especially guys. Whenever I say what I do for living, their first responses are (in this order): 1. jaw dropped 2. woooow 3. “So you get to touch boobs everyday? Cool!” .

If the roles were reversed

Nothing major have happened to me today, but even being squeezed on my butt in the middle of the day , in a very safe touristic city by a middle class, smart looking young Indian, makes you wonder where this fucking world is going into. I got scared. I didn't do anything wrong, I refuse to be punished just for the fact that I am a woman. Oh yes, I forgot- we are just supposed to sit in the house and take care of our family. Do not even go out, cover yourself; also the eyes so you couldn't even see, maybe that would be the solution. Or I got another solution. Let's castrate all the men, kill them off, we don't need them. Why do I need to suffer just because I have a pussy. Why men cannot suffer..?
Damn it, nothing has really happened, so why I keep thinking about the stupid incident. Life goes on. Never mind that have happened to so many of us, on multiple occasions. And never mind that the fault is always ours. Fuck such a sexist world.

P.S.  Don't forget to watch the vid in the beginning of this post. Very well-made short film worth your time. Peace!

Because I don't have a penis....

It is a well known fact the sexes in India are treated very differently. And it is very sad too. But what to do.
Women are housewives mainly, born to serve the husband and make him happy. Bear the children, take care of them, cook, and eat just after the man of the household had filled his stomach. To my great surprise Indian women enjoy this cohabitation. They want money only from their spouse in return for the warm home. They don't aspire for anything more than just to have a family (of course, I am generalizing).
The other day, when I couldn't bear the fucking heat in my room anymore, I laid down in front of our room. Just simply on the floor, in my clothes, in the hall , just like an Indian. Lower class Indians do it all the time. White women probably not. That is why half of the hotel came checking me out until the morning. Fuck the safety, I was too hot.
I guess Muslim women in their burqas must be boiling yet it is normal for their husbands to take off their shirts. Fucking sexism. When I went for the swim, Indians were in their clothes. All of the girls; the ones wearing a saree, and moreover also the ones in jeans, dipped into the ocean fully clothed. I've seen few guys fooling with the waves in their jeans too. However most of them went only in their longis or underwear. If I would do that I would probably get raped. So how come women wouldn't rape a guy in his underwear? Well, I would, but that is a completely different story.
Unfortunately, this is no different in the west. Only the means of sexism are different. While western women are often career minded that doesn't necessarily mean they escaped the social stigma of the sex discrimination. Magazines feed us with skinny models, media sells us beauty products which will make us slim, young, desirable. So only slim and young is desirable? According to this world, the answer is yes. However male sex symbols are men like George Clooney (because being older and white-haired is hot), Bruce Willis (because bold is sexy) or Robert Pattinson (I seriously have no clue what is sexy about him). Imagine though a women with the same features. Older than 50? What a turtle! White hair? Yak! Bold? I think I am going to puke...
If you reverse the roles, so the man would have female features- slim, young, with firm breasts and buttocks, shaved, tanned... all of this is definitely desirable and acceptable by the society. So in conclusion: men can do anything. Even pee while standing. Women are not allowed. Fucking sexist world.

You are cordially not invited

For a long time I didn't find the time to update my blog. I have been too happy, therefore nothing to write about. Do I always write only when sad? Perhaps we don't need to share our happiness as much as we need to complain about our problems.
So here I am. Married. Excited, happy, a bit scared. But I am not alone; there are two of us feeling this way. I suppose that's what the marriage is about...

The fish

Today I have tried to save a fish.

I walked on the beach with the morning sun already burning my white face, my feet in a wet sand occasionally cooled by a coming wave. As I looked down there was a green sparkle. A shiny little stirrings, a thing grasping for life, it's mouth in a constant movement, breathing hardly and eyes wide open. A tiny little shiny fish, glittering as the most precious emerald.

The two stories

I started feeling little bit better. I am not anymore annoyed with the weather, people, being too hot, not having enough breeze at noon... I calmed down and stopped over-thinking. I even eat more (okay maybe not more since it's too hot but at least my appetite is back).

Today I went to my room to take an afternoon nap. I thought I'm calm and closed my eyes. Suddenly it hit me. I saw his face and started missing him. Again.

As I write these words I got interrupted (as always... remember, in India you are never alone). An old, very dark man with dreadlocks which run down almost to the floor, approached me. My new neighbour.

Looking for the happiness

It's all in you. Finding the happiness...

No one can make you really happy (yes for a short period of time but if you are sad inside, you'll always find some problems with your relationships.)

No one can make you happy, nothing can really make you happy; no money, no treasures, no possessions, no skills, no jobs, nothing can make you ultimately satisfied IF you are not content with yourself, if your blood is too hot, if you are sad inside, if you carry the burden of dissatisfaction within you.

The beginning

If I ever thought that I could find solitude and tranquillity in India I long for so long, I've been very mistaken. This is too big of a country with even bigger population. 

There are three types of tourists in India. The first kind are the superficial hari-krishna people who bought all this Indian hari-krishna stuff (even though no one apart from them really wears it) such as the hare rama jhola, some very meaningful bracelets, noisy ankle bracelets, having a lulu or some sort of feathers or other hippie stuff in their hair. Or shaving their heads or having dreadlocks. They touch the last step before entering a temple but I strongly doubt they know why. 

Then there are the real hari krishna people who have really lost it. They look like sort of an Indian babas and can speak basic Hindi. They sit on the floor, wear just the most simple clothes, pray with locals. Indians do not bother them, my best guess is they sort of accepted them. And then there is the third type; a typical tourist seeking a cheap holidays at a seaside. 

I believe I belong to the first type, from the Indian point of view at least. I am a special breed though; with not caring too much about my hygiene, not bothered with toilet paper, make up or what I use for washing, whether I sleep on a clean sheets- or sheets at all- where I stay as long as it is safe. Of course I still freak out when see a cockroach in my room, or would not talk to strangers. At this point though I'm trying to avoid any people at all. But that is another story. 

CHAPTER EIGHT: Mr Couscous

Shopping ingredients for the tagine

As I mentioned before we were in Ourzazate making new friends. A shopkeeper offered his hospitality therefore we decided to stay one more night in this town.

I do not think Mr Couscous really expected us to show up the very next morning. But we did. Hence he had to buy the breakfast since he has not cooked. He brought back some French croissants, fresh orange juice and melwi avec fromage (sort of a pancake). I enjoyed it very much. Then his friend slash employee offered to cook a tagine for the lunch. We decided it would be a great idea to eat tagine for the Nth time.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Muslim men...

I have met lots of Arab men. But I believe if you want to understand them you need more than two lifetimes.
In a sense they are very similar to Europeans. They are just men. White, black, Muslim, Orthodox, Italians, Indians... no matter. When they see a pretty girl they immediately look for signs. And if the girl smiles at them, or strokes her hair, or just wet her lip because the weather is simply freaking hot, they understand it as a sign.

CHAPTER SIX: The game

So after our bad experience in Merzouga and meeting the British, we traveled with them for a while and saw the most incredible nature we otherwise would not get the chance to see.

And the story is not nearly finished. They drove us to Ouarzazate in the evening, helping us to find a hotel. From there we could easily take the bus to Marakesh.

In the evening we decided to take a short walk near our hotel. Coincidentally, we got into a tiny market with all different shops.

CHAPTER FIVE

The ultimate fraud


Our trip was not just about getting to know the country; frankly, we haven't seen much. If anything. However we experienced more than one could dream of; we met incredible people and had unbelievable debates with them, experienced the most unexpected and even scariest stories.

CHAPTER FOUR

Happiness

The blue city

I loved being in Chefchaouen. We met some travelers and hanged out with them in our hotel. I talked mainly with two guys who I found absolutely intriguing. You see, travelers are a weird species. They comprehend life differently; they loose the touch with the real world and then they create their own. I guess they are trying to find the happiness. But what is the happiness? Isn't it just the actual journey we are taking to achieve the ultimate well-being?

CHAPTER THREE

Akchour

Akchour

We traveled through few cities; in this order: Casablanca, Rabat, Sidi Slimane, Chefchaouen, Akchour, Nador, Fes, Meknes, Rissani, Merzouga, Marrakesh and Casablanca again. Sometimes we  traveled with Amine and Oussama, sometimes on our own. The experiences were amazing, memories were incredible and vast.
When Amine said we are going trekking I didn't take him seriously. I had my snickers, remember? And when he showed me the pictures from the place we are going to I got cold feet. Shit. I really need shoes. Shit. I can't even hike, what the hell am I doing in here?
At the end it was alright. I certainly had lots of fun with the group. We did only about two hours long trek to the waterfall and another two back. The waterfall was, well, a waterfall. I liked it, but was too tired to enjoy it. And I was cold. And tired.

CHAPTER TWO

Morocco.

So we have reached.
And we are still alive. But I feel so ashamed. Never I went on a trip so unprepared.
I have been moving from country to country for almost four weeks now therefore carrying the same suitcase. However I am in an Arabic country at the moment and I come with a fucking suitcase, have no idea where I am going to or what I will be doing. I didn't even Google up where Morocco is on the map, nor checked the weather. Since we are mainly going North and I expected Africa to be hot (!) I got shorts and bikinis with me. Ha Ha!
On the other hand it was more fun this way since I had no expectations at all.

I am rich. Because I travel.

Prepare to get dirty

Backpacking – the cheapest, but also the most dangerous way of traveling.


People often ask me how can I afford to travel so often and whether I'm rich. I am rich indeed. I am rich with experiences, memories and new friendships.
I am very surprised that my friends think I am a big traveler. Maybe comparing to them I do travel a lot, and even though I don't think I'm visiting very exotic countries I suppose I am doing exotic stuff there. I'm meeting locals, I am taking the dodgiest and cheapest buses, I talk to people on the street, I eat with families. Not everyone does this.

CHAPTER ONE

Up in the air again

Woke up at 5.30am to take an early flight yet to another destination. Coffee, hangover, excitement, and a bag of smelly clothes. Yet another great trip in front of me, yet another eventful day.

You know that feeling when you suddenly get very scared because your life is in a great danger and you get this rush of an adrenaline in your blood. I feel similarly; I feel a travel adrenaline, as if high on drugs. I'm high on excitement. I lost the feeling in my finger tips; I stroke my hair but cannot sense it. I am not cold,  I don't mind the rising sun behind the aircraft's window bothering my eyes. I am not tired and I don't feel regret.