I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again. (Stephen Grellet)
I am amazed at the beautiful children I come across when I am in Meghalaya, India. These kids are so quick with a smile and so endearing. Some of the faces I saw created in me a motivation to start my nonproft Visions for Villages
My husband and I went on an amazing adventure a couple of years ago…
It started deep in the rain forests of the Northeastern Himalayan foothills when we decided to visit some local living root bridges.
Talk about ecological consciousness…
Contrary to bridges constructed with man-made materials, these natural “living” bridges are made from the roots of the Ficus Elastica, also known as the the Indian Rubber Tree, and most are over 500 years while continuing to get stronger over time.
In an era of growing environmental consciousness, it is so refreshing to find a place where man has harnessed nature to survive and live in such harmony together for hundreds of years.
The start of the trek…
Together with a few friends, we traveled about 50 miles away from the city of Shillong. After a long drive through windy mountain roads, we finally met our local guide who would take us on our hike. As we left the paved road behind, we started descending further into the mountain and pretty soon the stone path disappeared completely and we were hiking down a sturdy but sometimes slippery forest trail.
Our survival instincts took over as we picked up some wooden branches to help us keep our balance because our legs were starting to feel like Jello at this point. I was also getting a little concerned about our return journey going back “up” this trail.
The set of Avatar?
Onward we descended as we trekked deeper into the forest with the bizarre feeling that we had just stepped into the set of Avatar, into a quiet magical jungle of deep green, lush foliage where any moment we would see Neytiri and the Na’vi people coming out to greet us.
In my next post (Part 2), I will share the unexpected scene we saw when we got there. Stay tuned.
My husband and I went on an amazing adventure a few years ago that I would like to share with you today.
This particular adventure started deep in the rain forests of the Northeastern Himalayan foothills when we decided to visit some local ecological marvels – living root bridges that are part of nature itself. Contrary to bridges constructed with man-made materials, these natural “living” bridges are made from the roots of the Ficus Elastica, also known as the the Indian Rubber Tree, and most are over 500 years while continuing to get stronger over time. In an era of growing environmental consciousness, it is so refreshing to find a place where man has harnessed nature to survive and live in such harmony together for hundreds of years.
Together with a few friends, we traveled about 50 miles away from the city of Shillong. After a long drive through windy mountain roads, we finally met our local guide who would take us on our hike. As we left the paved road behind, we started descending further into the mountain and pretty soon the stone path disappeared completely and we were hiking down a sturdy but sometimes slippery forest trail. Our survival instincts took over as we picked up some wooden branches to help us keep our balance because our legs were starting to feel like Jello at this point. I was also getting a little concerned about our return journey going back “up” this trail. Onward we descended as we trekked deeper into the forest with the bizarre feeling that we had just stepped into the set of Avatar, into a quiet magical jungle of deep green, lush foliage where any moment we would see Neytiri and the Na’vi people coming out to greet us.
When we finally got to the bridge we just stared at this surreal structure before us, set in a fairyland forest above the gentle rippling sounds of the stream below. By the way, the water was gentle because we were visiting during the dry months. During the monsoons, this gentle stream turns into a rushing, swirling, swift river. As we continued to gazed at this bio-engineering wonder in front of us, I could almost imagine the stories it could tell us – hundreds of years worth! I wondered what the original people were like who built these bridges centuries ago, what were they doing in this remote part of the jungle and how did they live?
According to the local Khasi people, the bridge “building” started when the trunk of a betel nut tree is sliced down the middle and hollowed out, then the young roots of the Ficus Elastica Rubber Tree are placed inside and these roots are then guided to grow across the swift rushing rivers and streams. When these roots get to the other side, they then take root in the soil and continue to thrive into natural, eco-friendly, living root bridges. This process takes between fifteen and twenty years before the bridge is ready for people to cross.
As we were walking on this bridge to the other side of the stream, we noticed the path on the bridge embedded with large stones which we were told were put there generations ago to cover the holes between the roots, the vines eventually absorbing the stones, growing around them as they became a part of this living bridge. Imagine that – a natural stone walkway across a bridge.
Some of these bridges are over one hundred feet long and can support the weight of about fifty people at a time. The local tribes of these mountain villages have used these bridges for hundreds of years to cross swift thundering rivers and streams during the heavy monsoons, as they travel to the local markets and so on. You can check out a picture of the Double Decker Living Root Bridge here – we were not able to see this particular bridge but from what I have heard, this is the most aggressive hike of them all. Yikes!!! Because I am not a fainthearted traveler, one of my goals this October 2011 is to go and see this one in person!
Interestingly, until just recently, the rest of the world had never even heard of these bridges. They were discovered by Denis P. Rayen of the Cherrapunji Holiday resort as he explored these remote forest regions looking for hiking trails for his guests. I grew up about 50 miles away from these bridges and my family and I never even knew these bridges existed until just a few years ago!
On our return back up the trail, we stopped by a beautiful waterfall for a picnic and to give our legs a much needed break. Although we were pretty sore the next day (this is not a trek for the faint of heart) it was so worth it – a discovery of something trul
My husband and I went on an amazing adventure a few years ago that I would like to share with you today.
This particular adventure started deep in the rain forests of the Northeastern Himalayan foothills when we decided to visit some local ecological marvels – living root bridges that are part of nature itself. Contrary to bridges constructed with man-made materials, these natural “living” bridges are made from the roots of the Ficus Elastica, also known as the the Indian Rubber Tree, and most are over 500 years while continuing to get stronger over time. In an era of growing environmental consciousness, it is so refreshing to find a place where man has harnessed nature to survive and live in such harmony together for hundreds of years.
Together with a few friends, we traveled about 50 miles away from the city of Shillong. After a long drive through windy mountain roads, we finally met our local guide who would take us on our hike. As we left the paved road behind, we started descending further into the mountain and pretty soon the stone path disappeared completely and we were hiking down a sturdy but sometimes slippery forest trail. Our survival instincts took over as we picked up some wooden branches to help us keep our balance because our legs were starting to feel like Jello at this point. I was also getting a little concerned about our return journey going back “up” this trail. Onward we descended as we trekked deeper into the forest with the bizarre feeling that we had just stepped into the set of Avatar, into a quiet magical jungle of deep green, lush foliage where any moment we would see Neytiri and the Na’vi people coming out to greet us.
When we finally got to the bridge we just stared at this surreal structure before us, set in a fairyland forest above the gentle rippling sounds of the stream below. By the way, the water was gentle because we were visiting during the dry months. During the monsoons, this gentle stream turns into a rushing, swirling, swift river. As we continued to gazed at this bio-engineering wonder in front of us, I could almost imagine the stories it could tell us – hundreds of years worth! I wondered what the original people were like who built these bridges centuries ago, what were they doing in this remote part of the jungle and how did they live?
According to the local Khasi people, the bridge “building” started when the trunk of a betel nut tree is sliced down the middle and hollowed out, then the young roots of the Ficus Elastica Rubber Tree are placed inside and these roots are then guided to grow across the swift rushing rivers and streams. When these roots get to the other side, they then take root in the soil and continue to thrive into natural, eco-friendly, living root bridges. This process takes between fifteen and twenty years before the bridge is ready for people to cross.
As we were walking on this bridge to the other side of the stream, we noticed the path on the bridge embedded with large stones which we were told were put there generations ago to cover the holes between the roots, the vines eventually absorbing the stones, growing around them as they became a part of this living bridge. Imagine that – a natural stone walkway across a bridge.
Some of these bridges are over one hundred feet long and can support the weight of about fifty people at a time. The local tribes of these mountain villages have used these bridges for hundreds of years to cross swift thundering rivers and streams during the heavy monsoons, as they travel to the local markets and so on. You can check out a picture of the Double Decker Living Root Bridge here – we were not able to see this particular bridge but from what I have heard, this is the most aggressive hike of them all. Yikes!!! Because I am not a fainthearted traveler, one of my goals this October 2011 is to go and see this one in person!
Interestingly, until just recently, the rest of the world had never even heard of these bridges. They were discovered by Denis P. Rayen of the Cherrapunji Holiday resort as he explored these remote forest regions looking for hiking trails for his guests. I grew up about 50 miles away from these bridges and my family and I never even knew these bridges existed until just a few years ago!
On our return back up the trail, we stopped by a beautiful waterfall for a picnic and to give our legs a much needed break. Although we were pretty sore the next day (this is not a trek for the faint of heart) it was so worth it – a discovery of something truly unique and magical, worlds away from reality. You see, we had arrived at an enchanting place that encouraged soft whispers so as not to disturb the silence of the forest or the serenity of the gentle, soothing sounds of the waterfall, beckoning us to bask luxuriously in the warm afternoon sunshine, to relax on the surrounding rocks as we dipped our feet in the cool waters, immersed in the grateful sensation of being truly blessed and the exhilaration of bring alive.
y unique and magical, worlds away from reality. You see, we had arrived at an enchanting place that encouraged soft whispers so as not to disturb the silence of the forest or the serenity of the gentle, soothing sounds of the waterfall, beckoning us to bask luxuriously in the warm afternoon sunshine, to relax on the surrounding rocks as we dipped our feet in the cool waters, immersed in the grateful sensation of being truly blessed and the exhilaration of bring alive.
People are amazingly helpful and kind. Sometimes we get so immersed in the news which seems to mainly focus on all the negative people and activities we sometimes forget to appreciate all the wonderful things that happen to us every day.
In this blog post, I want to focus on some positive things that have happened to me lately and all the people who helped or are helping to make something wonderful happen with their kindness and compassionate spirit.
The back burner
Some of you may be aware that I live in the bay area but originally come from the Himalayan foothills of Northeastern India, but just in case you didn’t know, I grew up precisely in that area of the world for about 16 years and love this community of my childhood years very, very dearly. Additionally, I have wanted for many years to go back and do something meaningful for some of these people who struggle very hard just to make a living and to help underpriviledged children in the region, however my busy life, career and family responsibilities have kept this as a future “to do” project.
Getting started
Well, about 8 months ago I joined the Reading Between The Wines book club, which is part of a larger group of the South Bay Women’s Social Group and it just happened that Yoke, the organizer of this Social Group was part of the 8 women in this book club. In December of last year, I asked Yoke if I can approach her group to see if there are any women who might want to participate in getting some warm clothing and other essential needs for the people in the region I wanted to help.
Kindness and compassion
After I talked at length to Yoke about my vision and what I hoped to accomplish, she and her group ADOPTED MY PROJECT as their Giving Back activity for 2011! Then she scheduled me to give a presentation about this at their bi-annual “Meet and Greet” on Jan 20, 2011.
A friend in another country
It also so happened that a couple of years ago, a friend of our family in India came to visit us here in the US with a couple of his friends, one of who was the Commissioner of the state of Meghalaya. This friend (the Commissioner) is now playing an integral part as my contact in India who is helping me in getting this project implemented
Photographs that were meant to be
On top of that, my sister and her family who live here in California happened to be in India in December for the holidays, and were able to visit the actual village and getting pictures of the people and place we will actually be helping this year. And she got back just in time (Jan 14) for me to get the photographs so I could include them in my presentation.
The kindness of strangers
So last week at the “Meet and Greet”, I did my presentation on my Adopt a Himalayan Village project and the feedback and response was amazing! Some of the ladies who attended offered donations of clothing, some offered their time and expertise, while others offered both, to get this project implemented. Some even thanked me for reminding them of how much we all have. I was overwhelmed by kindness. That is part of the reason I feel so strongly about creating Himalayan tours, to help connect others with the place that has such a big area of my heart.
Another amazing person I met who was also a presenter at the Meet and Greet was Dr. Rafael Lopez of Chiropractic from the Heart. Dr. Rafael goes to El Salvador and Nicaragua every year with a group of chiropractors and donates his services to the people there who need help. He gave a great presentation of his services and offered his initial services for an unbelievable price of $197 AND then he said he would donate $100 of it to my village project! That really touched me.
Goodness surrounds us…
I believe I am surrounded by givers – certainly all the people I mentioned above are givers… I have also found that Americans on the whole are the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever seen. I am so grateful to live here. Furthermore, my friend in India is also taking time out of his busy schedule to further this cause and help others. What a wonderful world we live in – filled with amazing, caring individuals. The evening broadcast does not focus enough on good news, but we can.
What about you?
What are your experiences with giving back? Do you have a vision or idea on how you would like to give back? What is YOUR good news today?
The holiday season is a very stressful time for many people. I am especially conscious of how much we spend, both in time and money.
So I thought I would take a few moments to focus on a couple of memories of a simpler time. I also hope you share some of your memories so we can all benefit from the pleasure of reading them during this time of hectic activity.
I grew up with my grandparents in Meghalaya, India – a State that is primarily Christian. The Christmas season was very exciting for me as a child and I could not wait for it to arrive. There were never any presents under the tree but that was not what it was all about.
One of my favorite memories every year was a beautiful little cake with royal icing that my grandmother would bring out for us to enjoy – a slice with our tea at midnight on Christmas eve (I would always get the roses from the cake as a special treat). We only bought a cake with icing at Christmas time so you can imagine how special that was.
The rest of the cake would be carefully put away to share with our extended family members who would be paying their respects to my grandparents on Christmas day. Although we celebrated modestly, we were rich with the loving presence of our family and friends.
The music of angels, or so I thought…
Another special memory was waking up in the middle of the night and hearing carols. I was raised in the Himalayan foothills of India and the nights were very cold but some folks were out there caroling! Can you imagine being snug inside warm blankets listening to this beautiful music on a cold dark night?
You see, there are a group of tribal people in the town I lived in known as the Mizos who were blessed with some of the most wonderful voices and certainly to me as a child they sounded like a choir of angels, similar to what the shepherds heard a long long time ago when Jesus was born.
I hope you enjoy the video below sung by these tribal people – the singers are different but the style and beauty of the music is the same.
Although my grandparents and aunt have long passed away, these treasured moments and memories are a beautiful part of my life that I would not trade for all the toys in the world. Although gifts are nice, one does not need very much to enjoy the beauty of this season – loved ones, music, a little desert, it was enough.
What memories do you have of this special season that were meaningful to you? Please share and let us help each other be aware of the simpler pleasures and values amidst the commercialization that surrounds us.
If you are in the New Delhi area of India and would like to participate in an unusual experience – you may want to take an inner city walk with the Salaam Baalak Trust.
This organization works with street children in Delhi, providing them with a caring, secure environment which includes five 24-hour full care shelters for children, while providing them with a means to an education, and ultimately the opportunity to live full, enriched, meaningful lives.
Some of these children such as Shamsul, due to poverty and family problems, boarded a train from his home state at the age of 11 to New Delhi where he spent one a and half years picking rags in and around the railway station before being picked up by one of the trust staff. Shamsul received an education and is now a young man earning a good salary at a media company.
This is not a slum tour, this is a walk through the backstreets of New Delhi led by your young, fully trained guide who was once living and working on the streets, where you will view the world through their eyes as they share with you their life journeys. This tour is also one of the services that we offer as part of our Himalayan Boot Camp vacations.
On March 11, I had the pleasure of meeting Pete Carcione, president of the Golden Gate Produce Terminal and owner of Carcione’s Fresh Produce, and experienced a wonderful visit and glimpse into the busy activities of the wholesale produce warehouses at the Golden Gate Produce Terminal.
Pete’s family has been in the produce business for over 90 years, starting with his grandfather who came to America as a teenager and opened a small produce store in San Francisco. You may also remember Pete’s father Joe Carcione, who hosted snippets of advice and tips for fruits and vegetables on television in the 1980′s. Joe also wrote a newspaper column, published two books, and was syndicated on about 80 television stations nationwide for his television and radio spots.
The family legacy continues through Pete Carcione, whose wholesale produce business has been supplying fresh, high quality fruits and vegetables for 35 years to over 400 stores and restaurants throughout northern California.
Pete is currently in the process of re-publishing one of his father’s books, The Greengrocer Cookbookwhich is currently out of print but appears to still be in popular demand, and I am so honored that some of the recipes from my book The Deity Diet are going to be featured in the upcoming release of The Greengrocer Cookbook.
As I drove through the gates of the Golden Gate Produce Terminal, I was absolutely amazed at the size of it – multiple wholesale produce distributors in huge warehouses spread out over 17 acres and 200,000 square feet – filled with farm fresh produce of fruits and vegetables, literally from floor to ceiling, spread out into the street – boxes and boxes of delicious, colorful oranges, apples, Swiss chard, rhubarb, crates of beans, avocados, pineapples, and mangoes from local farms and countries as far away as France and Chile.
It was an art just dodging the forklifts beeping and moving about while they load the shipments on trucks destined for local grocery stores and restaurants. By 9:30 AM most of the activity had slowed down as trucks took off for their deliveries.
I tasted succulent, crunchy baby cucumbers, and sampled fragrant, juicy Mandarin oranges that were dripping with sweetness. I learned about the Name, (pronounced “Nami”) a tuber which looks like an oversized potato but filled with antioxidants and vitamins, and how to pick the best mangoes (but that is another blog post).
I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the produce terminal is not just for business customers but is open to the general public as well. It is located near the San Francisco International airport at 131 Terminal Ct, South San Francisco, CA.
So the next time you are out and about you may want to drop in – maybe you will be lucky enough to pick up a fresh box of sweet, juicy Mandarin oranges for a lot less than what you will pay at your local grocery chain.
(My apologies for this long blog post, but I did not want to break it up into more than two parts. Perhaps it is more of a short story, but I so wanted to share with you the beautiful story and history behind the Taj Mahal, and if you should one day see this amazing monument, understand and imagine in your mind the lives of the two people who were the reason for its existence)
Though only fourteen years of age, Arjumand was stunning, and it was clear she could not lack for suitors. Arjumand’s thick hair was the color of the midnight sky and reached down to her waist. Her charcoal-colored eyes mesmerized him with unimagined and unspoken promises in their depths. Her golden skin was smooth and her lips red and full. She moved with such grace that she seemed to float about. And when she met his eyes ever so briefly, the prince was sure that her small smile that followed was meant for him alone. He was right. Arjumand herself was captivated by the attractive young prince and knew in her heart that they were destined for each other.
Though Prince Khurram was temporarily rendered speechless with Arjumand’s beauty and grace, upon his recovery he inquired as to Arjumand’s name and family. He learned that Arjumand was born to one of the noble houses of his court, and to his amazement, was not yet engaged to any man.
As the days and weeks passed, Prince Khurram could not stop thinking about Arjumand. At this time, he was already betrothed to two other princesses in arranged marriages by his father the Emperor, but the prince did not love or even know either of these princesses. On the other hand, he was completely besotted with Arjumand.
Upon much reflection, he requested permission from his father, Emperor Jehangir, to marry Arjumand. His father agreed, and with the proper review and recommendations of the astrologers and the correct alignment of the stars, Prince Khurram was betrothed to Arjumand in 1607 and their wedding date was set.
Finally, the happy day approached, and on March 27, 1612, five years later, handsome Prince Khurram, at the age of twenty, married the beautiful nineteen-year old Arjumand.
Prince Khurram favored Arjumand above all others, including his two other wives, and he showered her with love and affection. To the great delight of their subjects, Arjumand was just as in love with him as he was with her. The prince broke all tradition by being with her as much as possible, and the two were inseparable. The prince loved to bestow upon his bride unusual and beautiful gifts from all over the kingdom, but one gift he gave her was more than a mere object, more than even just a symbol of his love for her. Rather, it represented not only the special place she held in his heart, but also her place in their kingdom, and the love of the Court and its subjects for her – a new name. From now on she would be known as Mumtaz Mahal, which meant “Chosen One of the Palace.”
The years passed and eventually Emperor Jehangir died. Prince Khurram became the new emperor on February 4, 1628 and from that time became known as Shah Jehan.
Shah Jehan ruled withMumtaz Mahalby his side. Mumtaz was renowned for the major role she played in her husband’s monarchy. Her wisdom was legendary and she became his counselor, companion and partner and it was said, a critical advisor as he ruled his kingdom. Their combined intelligence and astute judgment created a monarchy at this time that was comparable to no other.
Mumtaz Mahal was the only one of Shah Jehan’s wives to bear him children. During their nineteen-year marriage, she bore him fourteen children. However, only seven of their children survived infancy.
In 1631, Shah Jehan readied himself for battle against the warlord of a neighboring kingdom; a battle that he guessed would last for many months as the enemy was a fierce one. Normally, Mumtaz accompanied the emperor to his battles, staying at a nearby palace, but she was pregnant with her fourteenth child at the time and the palace physicians did not recommend travelling in her condition. Despite the circumstances however, Mumtaz, who was strong in body and in mind, insisted on going along as she normally would and Shah Jehan was unable to deny her request.
While Shah Jehan led his army into battle, his wife Mumtaz stayed at a royal harem a few hours away. When her time came, she went into labor and gave birth to a baby girl at the harem. A messenger brought word to the emperor that he had a healthy daughter and that the queen was tired but doing well. Since the news was good, the shah decided he would wait until morning, when he would leave his troops and set out for the harem to visit Mumtaz and their new daughter.
After an exhausting but triumphant day on the battlefield, the emperor was readying himself for a few hours sleep before his journey to see his queen, when he received some disturbing news. It looked like Mumtaz had taken a turn for the worse and was in very serious condition. The harem physicians recommended that he get there as quickly as possible to see his wife.
Immediately, Shah Jehan left the camp with his bodyguards, riding as fast as they could into the early hours of the morning. When he arrived at Mumtaz’s bedside, he was shocked and terrified to see her so weak and pale, and deep in his heart he feared that she would not make it past morning. This fear was worse than anything he ever encountered, even during his most fierce battles. How would he make it without her by his side?
For the next few hours, Shah Jehan held his beloved Mumtaz in his arms until, in the early hour of dawn, she breathed her last faint breath. As he lay by her side, his heart heavy and breaking, his world turned dark with sorrow and pain, only the gods knew that Shah Jehan would never be the same man again. His spirit and love of life had died along with Mumtaz. She was all of 38 years old.
It was said that following his wife’s death, Shah Jehan was so heartbroken, that he locked himself in his private chambers where all the people in the palace heard were cries of anguish. When he finally emerged days later, he declared a mourning period throughout the kingdom.
After his first year of sorrow and pain, Shah Jehan commissioned the building of the mausoleum – the Taj Mahal – for his beloved bride and wife. The building of Mumtaz’s tomb started in 1632, one year after her death. It took twenty-two years to build and twenty thousand laborers. It is spread over forty-two acres on the banks of the River Yamuna near the city of Agra and was designed in such a way that no further addition or alteration to it would be possible.
The Taj Mahal was built on a raised square platform of 186 feet by 186 feet. The central dome was fifty-eight feet in diameter and 213 feet in height. There are four minarets, one at each corner of the Taj at a height of 162.5 feet each.
Deep inside the mausoleum are the actual crypts containing the bodies of the emperor and the queen, while the two marble tombs above them are the two false tombs viewable to the general public.
Enormous quantities of white marble and sandstone were brought in from different areas of the Munhall empire. Precious stones from different parts of the emperor’s kingdom and beyond were brought in to adorn the walls and ceilings – pearls, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, jade and more.
According to art historian Shobita Punja, “as you walk closer to [the Taj Mahal], its magnificence just takes over. Reflected in a long pool is the mausoleum in all its majesty. The dome floats two hundred and fifty feet into the sky, its simplicity and proportions perfect, subtle variations in the veined marble creating changes in color with every mood of the heavens. Four minarets frame the space like the setting of a jewel”
“The sky forms a curtain to the Taj,” Shobita further adds. “It’s the backdrop. At night, when the sky is black, this little marble jewel box stands glistening in the moonlight; in the early morning, when the sky is pink and orange, the white marble reflects those colors; and at sunset it has a completely different look. So the sky is as important as any other physical detail around the Taj. And the way it’s set on that platform, standing up against the huge expanse of sky, it seems as though they were evoking a sort of heavenly curtain to play a part in the scheme of things…. That’s why it’s so perfect. It’s a symbol of perfect love and of great beauty.”
The years went by and Shah Jehan never took on another wife but continued to rule his kingdom in peace for another 26 years until he became seriously ill in the year 1657. At that time, he had five sons, the youngest of which wasAurangzeb. Aurangzeb wanted the throne and for almost two years he fought his four brothers until he had eliminated all of them. In 1658, Aurangzeb declared himself emperor and imprisoned his father at the Jasmine tower of the Red Fort in Agra. Aurangzeb imprisoned Shah Jehan for eight years at that tower.
From the shah’s chambers there, he would gaze daily at Mumtaz’s beautiful tomb across theriver Yamuna. He would remember the love they shared, the love which he knew even death could not contain.
After he died in 1666, he was buried in the inner crypt of the Taj Mahal, next to his beloved Mumtaz, the two lovers together at last for all eternity.
I would like to provide my guests the opportunity to interact and give back to the local communities in India they visit during their Himalayan Boot Camp journeys. I truly believe that it can be a rewarding experience if one has brightened the life of someone less fortunate in the community one left behind after the vacation is over.
I am thinking of providing this interaction at a couple of the local schools that cater to the more impoverished children. Here are just a couple of my ideas for my guests:
Take 3-4 books and have a storybook session with the children. The local children will love this!
An afternoon of crafts with the children using supplies we take from here that those children have never seen and can take home with them (paper dolls, painting etc – the possibilities are endless)
Distribute some clothes (T-Shirts?) and have some afternoon refreshments and snacks.
These are just small things but they are a start. I grew up in this area of Meghalaya, India and know exactly how much brightness this will bring to the children. I am not sure where this idea will take me but I just have this gut feeling that both the givers and receivers of this kindness will be so blessed and the memories will be amazing.
Please provide feedback – tell me what you think. I also welcome any additional ideas you may have.
The poor man had never met so many relatives. Nor had he been what I consider so fortunate as to taste so many kinds of authentic home-made curries!
One of the most memorable aspects of that birthday celebration was, of course, the food. This was one of those Indian occasions where a wide variety of cultural delicacies was served. My Uncle Hubert, who was quite talented at making outstanding curries, volunteered to be in charge of the dinner. Uncle Hubert immediately called three of his old army buddies to assist him, along with my nephew Oliver.
They all showed up early on the morning of November 11th, my daughter’s birthday, and set out creating a commotion, banging and clanging pots and pans and utensils and ingredients, as they put together a makeshift kitchen in my grandmother’s backyard.
All day long one delicious smell after another drifted in from the backyard, until the guests began arriving and we transferred the food from the huge pots on the wood fires into serving bowls inside.
Some of the recipes for the food Uncle Hubert and his friends made that day are included in this book: Cumin Chicken, Saffron Flavored Rice Pilaf, Slow-Cooked Marinated Beef (a specialty of my grandfather’s when he was alive), Northeastern Indian Dal, Mint, Tomato and Cucumber Salad, and Daikon Salad. The food was authentic, delicious, and memorable, made from my uncle’s own favorite recipes, adjusted to fit the occasion.
My grandmother performed the ancestor blessings for my daughter’s future – the blessings for good health, peace, joy, prosperity, and abundance. Our culture considers these essential to a child’s future. My Uncle Roosevelt, as the honored Grand Uncle, added his blessings as well. My daughter probably received more blessings that day than most people get in a lifetime.
To this day my husband and I treasure our memories of that visit. We have passed them on to our daughter so she knows all about her First Birthday Indian Feast.
This is an excerpt from my book The Deity Diet which highlights some of the personal experiences my American husband and children had, integrating with the culture of India and with my Indian family.
In the culture of Northeastern India, a baby’s first birthday is cause for celebration. We prepare a big feast for relatives, friends, and neighbors, who all gather to wish the baby well.
When my daughter was about to turn a year old, however, I was living in the United States with my American husband. Not a single Indian relative was here, and his family was so scattered about, it would have been impractical to get everyone together in one place.
We were fairly young and didn’t have much money, but I wanted so badly to take my daughter home and show her off to my family that we did what any proud modern-day parents would do: we racked up our credit cards and took off for India, baby in tow. Here is a picture of the happy baby before our trip.
At that time, I had six younger brothers and sisters still living at home, plus my mother, grandmother (sadly, my grandfather had passed away), a multitude of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and tons of old friends and neighbors.
You can probably imagine what it was like to bring an eleven-month-old baby into this lot, where the youngest child was my brother, age seven, practically ancient in comparison to his new niece. My daughter was passed around from one person to another, kissed, doted on, fed all kinds of very un-baby-like treats that I pretended not to notice, and was thoroughly spoiled.
And, of course, there was the complicated business of planning The Birthday Feast, who to invite, what to serve, how much to cook, who would cook it; and “should-we-only-have-tea-or-have-tea-and-then-later-on-dinner,” what music to play, who will provide the blessing, and so on and so forth. You would think we were planning a wedding.
By the time my mother and grandmother were through, it was almost like a wedding, with over two hundred guests. Most people in India think nothing of this – the celebration is both a feast and a religious ceremony – but to my American husband it was all a little mind-boggling.
The information in this blog is for educational purposes only. For diagnosis or treatment of any medical problem, please consult your licensed health care practitioner.
finally met our local guide who would take us on our hike. As we left the paved road behind, we started descending further into the mountain and pretty soon the stone path disappeared completely and we were hiking down a sturdy but sometimes slippery forest trail. 
People are amazingly helpful and kind. Sometimes we get so immersed in the news which seems to mainly focus on all the negative people and activities we sometimes forget to appreciate all the wonderful things that happen to us every day.
ch we spend, both in time and money.
which is currently out of print but appears to still be in popular demand, and I am so honored that some of the recipes from my book 
After his first year of sorrow and pain, Shah Jehan commissioned the building of the mausoleum – the Taj Mahal – for his beloved bride and wife. The building of Mumtaz’s tomb started in 1632, one year after her death. It took twenty-two years to build and twenty thousand laborers. It is spread over forty-two acres on the banks of the River Yamuna near the city of Agra and was designed in such a way that no further addition or alteration to it would be possible.
