Dear Readers: Please know that I am not
trying to simply re-use old articles, but there is a reason for this re-cycling
some of these articles. First,
most of them are reposted with an update and sometimes and extra pic. Second, these are some articles that I
have myself thought about several times. Third, I have told myself that by the
end of this year, I should have 52 posts this year. Meaning one for every week. Finally, fourth and most important,
especially for this---I have realized I have a few new readers. I have not publicised this blog, there
is no way you can post it anywhere, and it is not really meant to be shared, so
none of those features are added. I
started this only to document happenings and musings and share pictures. At first it was simply by permission,
and there were about 100 people who I sent out the invitation. Slowly, I realized, to keep it that
way was much work, if something was not working. So, I kept it open. Also, kept
my posts quite detached. Most of these are not personal--more like musings. But writer that I am (I usually do not
acknowledge it, and only recently told myself that is what I am), I am hungry
for readers. It is good for the ego. Sadly,
as of now, I still love it when someone enjoys what I write. Many of the readers come back and
share that with me. Especially
the ones who know me.
But recently, I have found out that
that I have readers in France, China and Portugal. I know someone in France, so it might
be that friend who reads it. I
have a few friends in Spain, Germany, UK, Ireland, Ukraine, the US, India,
Fiji, New Zealand, Australia and Canada, so it makes sense that I see these
countries on traffic. But
China and Portugal? My closest Chinese friend actually lives in the UK. So, the two (or more) readers in China
and Portugal are special. Since, it seems like they are completely new. It delights me that someone wants to
read what I write and keeps returning.
So, this is a special gift to them.
First posted on March 9, 2014, this
post is posted in the honor of readers in Portugal and China. I have been to Portugal twice and the
last time I was there was in early 2014. I so enjoyed the place. But it also brings back little spanish
that I know. This
particular incident is something that I have thought about several times. It always warms my heart. It is a true story of 'travel'. Meaning other than being real, it is a
short incident that sheds light on how we find new meanings in travel, not just
by travelling but by also helping those who come to our lands.
To my readers in China, I apologise, I
have never been there, although it has been my dream. I have seen it from
across the border in Vietnam and Bhutan. I hope to visit sometime soon. I have
a friend who teaches at a Chinese university every summer. And he shares such lovely stories.
China being Asia, is always dear. We learnt about Chinese travellers to
India, who took several books back to China. For example, Faxian (--法顯; 337 – c. 42) 2) was a Chinese Buddhist monk who travelled by foot from China to
India, visiting many sacred Buddhist sites in what are now Xinjiang, Pakistan, India, Nepal, Bangladesh and Sri
Lanka between 399-412 to acquire Buddhist texts. (DIRECTLY FROM WIKI)
His journey is described in his
important travelogue, A Record of Buddhist Kingdoms, Being an Account by the
Chinese Monk Fa-Xian of his Travels in India and Ceylon in Search of the Buddhist Books of
Discipline. Antiquated transliterations of his name include Fa-Hien, Fa-hian,
and Fa-hsien. (DIRECTLY
FROM WIKI).
We also learnt about Huan Tseng. Xuanzang (Chinese: 玄奘- Hsüan-tsang),
fl. c. 602–664, was a Chinese Buddhist monk, scholar, traveller, and
translator who travelled to India in the sixth century and described
the interaction between Chinese Buddhism and Indian Buddhism during
the early Tang dynasty. Born in what is now Henan province
around 602, from boyhood he took to reading religious books, including the Chinese
classics and the writings of ancient sages. (DIRECTLY FROM WIKI).
As for Portugal, well, I have known a
few people from there. One of my room mates spoke Portuguese, since she
was from Brazil!! A student and a good friend is from there.
In addition, at school we learnt
about Vasco De Gama-- c. 1460s – 24 December 1524), who was a Portuguese
explorer and the first European to reach India by sea. His initial voyage
to India (1497–1499) was the first to link Europe and Asia by
an ocean route, connecting the Atlantic and the Indian oceans
and therefore, the West and the Orient.
Da Gama's discovery of the sea
route to India was significant and opened the way for an age of global imperialism and
for the Portuguese to establish a long-lasting colonial empire in
Asia. Traveling the ocean route allowed the Portuguese to avoid sailing across
the highly disputed Mediterranean and traversing the dangerous Arabian
Peninsula. The sum of the distances covered in the outward and return voyages
made this expedition the longest ocean voyage ever made until then, far longer
than a full voyage around the world by way of the Equator. (DIRECTLY FROM WIKI).
Vasco De gama and the following
Portugese rule is not admired for the atrocities etc. But I do not want to
dwell on that here (may be some other time :)—I thank as a writer to a reader.
This post is dedicated to all the
readers, but especially those who do not even know me and show interest in
pictures and words.
Heading towards my Swedish Class, I took another route. Something that can happen only after you have lived in a place, when you feel confident enough to take chances. The structure was very 'Lutheran'--simple and minimalistic. But it looked majestic --with its strategically placed lights, in the dark Swedish evenings. I had to stop there and smile--at the gems we can find, when we take detours. Or well, discover something in a completely new angle!! Moral of the story: every so often take a detour, and walk the path not walked before. Sweden, March 2014.
Nativity scene, in the middle of Lisbon, Portugal. Inspired by the stained glass windows of the cathedrals. Lisbon, Portugal
There is another story from Portugal. I thought i would write a separate entry. But time does not allow. And I do not have enough time to write in my journal either. So, I write here to document life. To recognize how ideas course through my brain and my veins. How people touch me in so many ways, and wish I could write a novel on each person I meet…..
So, I was lost in Lisbon, Portugal, unable to find my way back, at sun down. I asked for help. Something I have become used to. I asked this young man. Told him where I was trying to get to. He gave the directions, half in english, and half in portugese. I understand a bit of spanish, which is what makes traveling through Spain so much easier and sometimes in Portugal.
'And then turn left' he said as he pointed towards his right. I understood, but confirmed again…
'Derecho?' (right?) and I tilted towards my right.
He nodded, 'And then you will see a Search, from there just go straight'
"Ok, thanks' I hesitated, 'Ah, what's a search?"
"Search.." he said confidently, as if how could I not know that word?
'Search?" I said again, sort of confused.
He repeated, 'Search' this time with a little doubt.
'Uh, Iglesia' he finally said it in Portugese.
'Ah' I snapped my fingers, 'Church'
He nodded vigorously. And we both smiled, I bowed, he waved his hand in 'De nada' (don't mention it) attitude.
And I walked back to my destination. Thinking how willing people are to help, and how much knowing even a bit of language helps in travel.
And yet, not knowing enough, we invariably rely on something we are here to acknowledge.
'Our interdependency'.
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