This Lebanese Life- a long winded account of my life these days

Upon return from winter break, it was hot and sunny in Beirut. I unpacked, walked around the area, got a haircut (which looks very Lebanese and I have no pictures yet) and enjoyed the warmth after being cold most of the time in India.

Lately, it's been raining- so much so that I bought rain boots and a proper umbrella, not just one of those little travel ones. Today is a bit warm and it's becoming overcast, though it was sunny when I left yoga class an hour ago.

Work life
I am now in my eighth year of this teaching career. This is the first time that my job does not consume more than half of my life. Despite doing as many extra things as I can at school, I still am completely under-stimulated with work. At the same time, due to the nature of the Fine arts program, with grade 6 &7 students moving to a new discipline every 6-7 weeks, I am overwhelmed with starting two new classes every month and a half. Since September, I have started 7 classes, including the Grade 8s who stay with me all year. I still have to start 4 more classes this school year. It is exhausting, especially teaching kids from scratch how to play instruments.

Social Life
Anyway, I am supposed to have a personal life, but I don’t know how. I take private Arabic lessons, go to yoga, buy produce, walk, watch TV, read books, cook, hang out with Bashar when he’s here, attend monthly book club meetings, and go for drinks on Fridays after work. My friend David is an English bloke, who I consider the president of Friday drinks and my own personal Simon Cowell (I have recently started watching American Idol). He criticizes me when I talk about work, tells me to get a life, and tries to help me to think of things to do for fun. He is not as miserable as I make him sound-he is one of my favourite people. He is a bit lonely, I think, maybe because he’s a bit critical. He is an excellent conversationalist, but he can be really tough if he disagrees with you.

The other thing here is I am making less money (almost $1000 per month less) than Kuwait, and have far more to spend money on. It seems I go through my money like wildfire, and that’s not even including the visa and plane ticket to India, which was pretty pricey. Anyway, I don’t even have the luxury of a car or regular visits to expensive coffee shops. I buy local produce, and cannot figure out where all my money is going. I am going to keep track as of this month.

With Bashar, things are much better for several reasons. The first reason is I made it clear to him that he needed to make a bigger effort to come see me more often, because even though I chose to come here, if not for him, I would have been far more proactive about getting a job outside the Middle East. The second reason is I realized I have been selfish, not so much in this request, but in feeling sorry for myself and expecting him to drop his entire life on my whim. It’s not free (or even that cheap) for him to come here as often as he does (which is about twice a month). He has family obligations and he’s doing the best he can. And no, I am not making excuses for him. I have been mean to him and he has been forgiving, like he doesn’t even notice me being critical. He has shown me unconditional love and understanding. When he comes to see me, he cleans the balcony, washes the dishes and cleans the floor, makes tea and shops for food. I have only recently begun to cook for him because he always cooked for me. We go for walks, play cribbage, occasionally eat at local diner type places, shop at discount stores. It’s fun.

How (not) to get around in India.

After leaving Saravasti, I caught the bus to Lucknow (well, 2 different buses), but due to perfect timings, made it there in only about 6 hours.

How to catch a bus in Saravasti (and many other places in India)
1. Stand on the side of the road
2. When a bus comes by, yell and wave to stop it
3. Verify the bus is going where you need to go by asking the name of the town
4. Get on the bus
5. Ignore the people who stare at you with gaping mouths- you are a rarity and would do the same to them if they were in your small town in Canada
6. Pay the guy who gives you a print out receipt (you don’t pay the driver)

Bus far in India is approximately 50 paise (half a rupee) per kilometre, which means you can travel 100 kms for 50 rupees, which is about a dollar. I suppose that explains why the buses are in need of repair- broken windows, tattered seats and so on.


My trip from Varanasi to Saravasti

This was a true comedy of errors, though I was not exactly laughing.

While is Varanasi, which is a huge city, I tried to get exact information on how to get to Saravasti, which is a long way from there. The only direct way is by car, and I did not wish to do this, though it would have been easy, quicker and about $80. I visited travel agents and all, and the best information I got was “Take the bus to Faizabad, then from Faizabad, to Saravasti. 3.5 hours for each bus ride, you leave in the morning, you will be there in the afternoon.” I was to arrive at the Jetvana Vipassana center between 4 and 5pm. I left on the 7am bus from Varanasi to Faizabad. My new friend (auto rickshaw driver) Nassir, took me the 200 metres from my hotel to the bus station and gave me a lunch bag of cake and two boiled eggs and salt. By 12, we still had not arrived in Faizabad, in fact we arrived there at 2pm. The last couple hours on the bus, a man who spoke decent English decided I was his project. He asked me many questions, some of which I answered in brief, others which I barely muttered a response. He was too friendly, trying to sit too close, and had the worst smelling breath every time he opened his mouth. I ended up very clearly putting my small backpack between by left leg and his right, because his hand just kept getting too close to me. Regardless, when we got off the bus in Faizabad, he helped me to find the next bus, not to Saravasti, but to Gonda, which sounds like Goon-da. Due to a major stall in traffic, it took a couple more hours to go the short distance. The reason for the traffic jam was the narrow road could only allow to pass the trucks hauling sugar cane, which hung off the sides, and so we sat still for nearly 30 minutes. Oh, the torture. Luckily, bad breath man had a different destination and so was no longer annoying me. Also, the seats on this bus were much better padded than those of the first, 7 hour, bus. Upon arrival in Gonda around 4:30pm, I decided to pursue a taxi for the rest of the way. I found one guy who told me a good price, but then after consulting with some other people, more than doubled the price. I did not feel like being cheated and he did not seem too clear on where I wanted to go, so I awaited the next bus to Balrampur. Prior to settling on the bus, I wandered around asking people “Saravasti?” because, as I mentioned, this is how you find the bus to your destination. I was sort of engaged in a conversation with one or two guys, trying to sort out where I was going, though they did not really understand. Then I showed them the paper map sent by the centre (and by this point, the pair of guys had become a crowd of 8) and they exclaimed, “OH! Sar-wasTI!” (I had been calling it Shravasti). Eventually, a very calm and kind man told me where to wait for the next bus. This ride was short, but by the time I arrived in Balrampur it was dark, which means no more busses. I found a guy who spoke perfect English who found me a taxi (which cost more than the whole trip so far) to take me the 18kms to the centre. So I arrived at Jetvana in Sar-was-TI at 7:30pm, 3 hours late. I made the driver wait while I went to look for someone to explain who I was and that I was sorry to be late. I had the number of the centre, and had neither the time nor wherewithal to call. I had eaten the cake Nassir had given me, but nothing else (I don’t care for boiled eggs). I was pretty stressed out and had wished I’d stayed in Varanasi, yet was glad to finally have arrived at this little place. So I ended up in the kitchen, where there were three guys- two cooks and one construction contractor. By this point, I was pretty frazzled, so the small man who greeted me went to get my bag and assured me it was fine, “But first, you, drinking tea.” Ah, the wonderful solution to all that ails you. Milky chai.

I had missed very little, just an introductory talk and filling registration forms, which the lovely Dhamma server helped me with the next day.

And as always, everything works out perfectly. I love India, though a few times that day, I was ready to go home, even to Lebanon.

Vipassana Meditation Course

This is a long and personal account of my first experience at a Vipassana meditation course. Enjoy! I intend to add pictures, but the internet connection is slow and it takes forever for that function to complete.

I initially heard of Vipassana from my first traveling companion to India. I dismissed it as a crazy idea because this young woman was quite mad. When I took my Thai Yoga Massage course in Greece, during August of 2008, there were a few people who had done the Vipassana course. One intelligent, reliable and wonderful Austrian woman, Verena, gave me some more details about Vipassana. She, a very social person, enjoyed the course and looked forward to her next one. Last year, I did not feel I was ready to do such a retreat. In retrospect, it probably would have been the best thing for me, but it was still the best thing for me this time around.

Vipassana is a pure form of meditation, passed along since the time of Gauthama Buddha. It is a silent observation of one’s own breath and body. Upon arrival at the centre, you turn in all contraband (books, journals, pens, ipods, phones, etc) and surrender yourself to this form of meditation without incorporating past techniques you may have learned. In other words, no yoga, pranayama (breathing exercises), tai chi, reiki, etc., for the 10 day course. No outward communication. The daily schedule consists of meditation, meals, breaks and a video lesson. Men and women are separated for the course. We eat in separate areas, enter the meditation hall on opposite sides of the building, and sit on different sides of the room at all times. The only communication you are permitted is to request from the dhamma server (assistant to the course) any creature comfort needs, such as an extra blanket, and to have a minute long conversation with the teacher to discuss your progress most days. There is no charge for the course- you pay by donation. Nobody is meant to make a profit or livelihood from running vipassana courses. It should be accessible to all people, that all being have the chance to be happy.

For the first few days, I found my thoughts dwelling on all of the things I hate, which is basically most aspects of my school. Then I realized how much I was wasting my precious time letting anger and frustration consume me. I found sitting still very difficult until about the 6th day. My back, legs, knees, neck and shoulders all ached, which is a sign of bad feelings settled deeply in the body. By the 7th day, my body felt little pain and lightness from toe to head. Some days, I spent time making mental lists of who would find such a course to be their own personal hell. I thought of several gregarious friends who cannot sit still to save their souls and wondered how it would go for them.

As for me, despite the almost unbearable pain in my knees, I knew it was the right thing for me to do. I also had to complete the course as people had put bets on how long I would make it. I would highly recommend this course to anyone, but I realize many people would never even consider it. My friends thought the silent part would be the most difficult for me, but when you are sitting in meditation 12 hours a day, the last thing you feel like doing is talking. On the last day, you break silence. It was nice to talk again, to share the experience, and what I noticed is you feel much warmer when talking and communicating with others, and you also get more hungry.

I met some interesting people that 10th day. The person I best connected with was our Dhamma server, who was a tour guide in the Middle East for over a year. In fact, I met her colleague in Bedouin tent in Jordan’s Wadi Rum desert back in 2006. She is of Egyptian heritage and grew up in England, and now spends most of her time at Vipassana centers in India and Nepal. I stayed on another day, as I was not ready to face the real world yet. We walked around the town of Saravasti, which is a tiny town and the tourists are usually Monks and other Buddhist pilgrims. There is an incredibly beautiful park and a few temples/monasteries. Saravasti is where the Buddha gave most of his teachings, as he did not travel during the rainy season. It was a very powerful place to do a meditation course.

I plan to do more courses in the near future. It was an incredibly positive experience for me and I have never felt so peaceful before. Several people commented on how different I looked upon returning to work. I think it all quickly dissipated with the stress of work, but I am working on getting up early to meditate daily.