Northwest... Pacific Northwest

It seemed like forever away when I booked my ticket to Seattle back in December, but just as I knew they would, the last few days flew by. Suddenly I didn't have enough time to finish the sweater I was knitting or the books I was reading. I didn't pack a single thing until the night before I left. I don't remember being such a procrastinator in the past. So it goes.

Security at O'Hare wasn't bad. It always happens that way when you get there early; it's the times you're running late that the TSA takes their sweet time nosing through your things and looking at you like certainly you must be hiding something.

Boarding went smoothly, but we wound up sitting in the plane at the gate for what must have been almost an hour. At least the seats were comfy. Four and a half hours is nothing compared to the 15 or so it took me to get to Delhi a few months ago, but it's still a considerable chunk out of one's day. The cool part is I was flying west, so I managed to not lose too many hours on the clock.

We got some pho at a Vietnamese restaurant near our hotel. After our meal, the owner asked how our food was, told us it was nice to meet us, and gave Brij and me each a hug. Talk about a warm welcome to Seattle.

Obviously I had to pick up some Starbucks since I was in the place where it originated. It's pretty much the same as anywhere else.

My first two days in a city known for its rain, the weather was bright and sunny. And warm. I mean REALLY warm. Considering I'd escaped the polar vortex that's been ravaging the Midwest for however many weeks now, 50 degrees in Seattle felt like summer vacation.

Anyway, across the street from our place was this restaurant:

On Friday we set off in search of a vegan sandwich restaurant called Plum, which Brij had gotten a Groupon for. After misreading a map and subsequently walking all around Seattle, we finally found it.

Following that, we wandered across the street to the Space Needle and, being tourists, decided we ought to check it out. Twenty bucks a person for a pretty sweet view of the city is not a bad deal. (More pix will follow when I can get them off my phone):

Saturday the plan was to hang out in Seattle and head up to Vancouver in the evening. My good friend Cory, who has recently made a move to the west coast, met us in Seattle and the three of us got some delicious Thai food at In The Bowl which, to our surprise and delight, happened to be having a 50% off promotion in observance of their anniversary. We all recommend you go there if you're in the area.

After food and some deliberation, we made our way to Belltown Billiards for some pool. I guess all those hours of Wii Pool paid off because I managed to win a couple of games. Woot. :)

Sorry Cory, I think my action shots of you are still on my phone...

None of us managed to remember that it was Saturday night by the time we were done, so there was no parking to be had, all the restaurants looked busy.. plus it was raining pretty hard at this point and we had no idea where to go anyway. So we parted ways and Brij and I headed up to Vancouver.

The border crossing guard asked us a bunch of questions like how long I was staying and when I was expected back at work, where had I come from, and when was the last time I was in Canada? When it became clear that he was going to let us through I asked for a stamp for my passport and he informed us that he'd forgotten his stamp that day, and we'd have to park and go inside and did we really want it that bad? Yes, yes we did.

So long story short, I made it to Canada and I've got a stamp to prove it.


Right now we're chilling at Brij's friend Justin's house, waiting to go snowboarding, and they are bugging me to get off the computer so we can play something called Oculus. I guess that's going to happen.

So tonight's agenda: coffee, snowboarding, return to suburban Vancouver. Possible Indian food to follow.

I've also established that my phone doesn't work here, so leave me comments, send an email, or message me on FB if you need to get in touch with me.

Catch you later, eh.

In, and right back out again.

Alright, people!

I've now been back in the US for nearly 2 months. I'm ready to get back out.

The mobsters at Sallie Mae want their money, and my part time job -- as much as I love it -- doesn't quite cut it in the face of massive American student loans. Therefore, I have begun to look for somewhat more traditional employment. Bummer, right? My millennial self thinks so, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. A few years working for The Man and then pay for everything else in cash seems like it might be the way to go.

I've got a few leads that could take me to Brooklyn, Chicago, Milwaukee, or even Utah. I've considered going back to school for something practical like engineering. And then, earlier this evening, one of my fellow ESL teachers from Tibet Charity floated the idea that we pursue a joint teaching venture in Japan. Now THAT sounds interesting.

In other news, my venture to the Pacific Northwest is drawing nearer! In just a little over a week I'll be on my way out to Seattle, and from there roaming around the general area as far as, perhaps, Portland, Vancouver, and somewhere further into the interior of British Columbia. Mostly I'm looking forward to the super-fresh sushi.

Stay tuned for pix!

(Oh, and the Japan jobs want us to start in March/April... so it could be that I'm back in Illinois for a month or less before heading overseas again. Talk about doing things last-minute!)

Planning for Goa

Tashi delek! (Hi, or literally "good luck" in Tibetan!)

Yesterday we realized that between Gandhi's birthday, teachings by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and the more common but equally important weekends, we will have about 9 days off in a row coming up. Our little group has begun planning a trip to Goa, which I personally know nothing about aside from what others have told me. According to them, it's in the south of India, near (at least relatively near) Mumbai, and it's a beach town. City. Whatever.

Apparently it's the place to be in the summer. It sounds more or less like the Indian equivalent of Daytona Beach, or Cancun, or some other spring break type destination. So far it looks like the trip will involve either a) a 12-hour bus ride from Dharamsala to Delhi, or b) a four-hour bus ride to another city where we will catch a 10-hour train to Delhi, and from Delhi either c) a 40-some-hour train ride to Goa or d) a 4-hour flight to Goa.

Julie and I are leaning toward the flight option since it should only cost about 5000 rupees per person, which is less than a hundred bucks USD. Details will follow as they develop.

In other news, getting around Dharamsala and McLeod Ganj is tiring. In order to go pretty much anywhere, you have to hike. The roads are steep, and so are the stairs. "Shortcuts" tend to involve somewhat sketchy paths through the forest, often paved with old stones covered in slippery moss. Kalden navigates them with the ease and fluidity of a mountain goat, and Julie and I pick our way carefully down because we really don't want to, you know, fall off the mountain. Walking downhill for half an hour can be tiring since it's so steep, but walking up is, of course, even moreso. If you're the kind of person who uses a stair machine at the gym, you should consider a trip to Dharamsala. We have been eating cake, cookies, and Indian sweets nearly every day; we don't worry too much about it because we figure we work it all off by the time we get home anyway.

Remember how I said India loves Coke? Check it out... it's even made with real sugar here. GET WITH THE PROGRAM, USA!

Indian Coke is made with real sugar. By default.

We had palak paneer today at lunch. One thing I've noticed is the consistency is totally different from any of the palak/saag paneer I've had Stateside; back home you can really see the spinach in it, but here in India they put it through a food processor and it's this smooth green stuff. It was pretty good. I've always preferred mattar paneer, myself.

Smoooooooth... this palak paneer is the real deal.

Here is some info for those of you either not on FB, or who missed my post earlier in the week...
If anyone is interested in sending me letters or goodies from home, you can do so at this address:

Magda Ksiazak
c/o Tibet Charity
Lower Temple Road
P.O. MacLeod Ganj, 176219
Dharamsala, Himachal Pradesh, India

The address system around here seems pretty open to interpretation (I've seen the same address written a few different ways), but as long as you have all these pieces of information I'm pretty sure it'll get to me. I have no idea how long it'll take, though, so don't send anything that can go bad.

Losing a Whole Day

I've done a little bit of traveling in my life. Generally speaking, I really enjoy traveling by plane; I'm a person whose only reason for shying away from flight is the bureaucratic omnipotence of the TSA, not because of any fear of the transportation itself.

Until yesterday, my longest plane trip had been the first one I made to Florida some ten years ago. The flight itself wasn't that bad, but I did have a 7 hour layover in Atlanta (it was a Thursday... I remember because it was also Thanksgiving). It was a long day, to be sure, but it's not much compared to a 9.5 hour layover followed immediately by a 15 hour flight.

The day started at 4:30am when I woke to a very Sheldon-Cooper-esque “*knock knock knock* Maggie *knock knock knock* Maggie *knock knock knock* Maggie” on my bedroom door. Not the worst way to start a day, really. Dad and I loaded up my stuff, picked up Mom, and made our way to O'Hare. It was definitely nice having them both see me off, as you can see in the picture in a previous post.

Upon check-in I was relieved to find that the suitcase I'd packed was in fact only 43 pounds (well under the 50# limit) so I wouldn't have to do any last-minute rearranging of things into my carry-on. Security was a breeze, and I didn't even get picked for additional screening like I usually do... I guess I look less like a troublemaker at 6 in the morning. The flight from O'Hare to Newark was easy and uneventful. Nothing I hadn't done before.

Upon my arrival in NJ, Brandi gave me directions on how to get to Brooklyn so I could meet her and have a 9.5 hour layover that involved something other than sitting around Liberty International Airport. I congratulated myself on making it through the AirTrain and NY subway on my own like a big girl, and Brandi and I enjoyed some pretty darn good Mediterranean food and a very nice visit before she saw me back to the station and I returned to the airport. I did have to step out for a pat down (I'd rather that than radiation) but then I was on my way to plop down at my gate until we started boarding.

Protip: There aren't many outlets to charge your phone at Liberty International, at least not in Terminal C. Prepare accordingly.

After a flight delay and some moments of “holy shit, this is really happening,” we finally got on the biggest airplane I have personally been on, a 777. You know, one with two aisles and three columns of seats, like you see in the movies. That in itself was a little surreal.

I took my seat near the window, 38L. The leg room in the economy seating area of the plane may not have been anything special (luckily I'm a smallish person to begin with), but the fact that the two seats next to me remained vacant meant I could stretch out all I wanted. I win! Of course, that would have to wait, but I smiled knowing that I was going to be a whole lot more comfortable for the next 15 hours than most of the others on the plane.

Everyone took their seats, the boarding doors closed, and the plane taxied to the runway. It was then, as the plane waited on the tarmac in that customary way that always lasts longer than I expect it to, that I became acutely aware of the sound of the engines. There was something about the way the sound rolled in waves that built my anticipation -- like the wind howling through the woods or an orchestra poised for the director's downbeat – the plane hesitated on the runway as if it were trying to decide whether it actually wanted to take off.

Of course, eventually it did. The engines roared and the plane hurtled down the runway, its nose lifting into the air. It was at this point that I first really, truly, felt at peace with my decision to go to India. In this moment I teared up for the first time since I'd begun planning this whole trip, and in this moment I knew that (nevermind it was was too late to change my mind at that point) it was honestly what I wanted to do. I felt good about it. I could see the wind rushing over the wing of the plane. The pilot pulled us into the air and circled over Newark once, as if extending one last invitation to say goodbye to the only country I'd ever known.

And we were off.

Those of you who expressed a wish that I be able to sleep on said 15 hour flight will be glad to know that that is exactly what I did for most of it. I had 3 books and a loaded, fully charged iPod with me just in case, but I only managed to get through a couple of chapters. I guess 3 hours of sleep the night before will do that to you.

In fact, I slept through the dinner service (which I was quite upset about, because damn did it smell good). Even as I lay there half asleep, I smelled the spicy, aromatic deliciousness that I know to associate with Indian food and knew it was going to be a good trip. Somehow I missed them when they came through the first time, but the nice flight attendant hooked me up with a vegetarian meal once they were done serving drinks, so it all worked out.

Struck with a case of “the itis,” as Joe used to say, I settled in for a nap as the little kid in front of me seemed to work on perfecting his Zanta impression.

I woke up to find the in-flight map showing that we were over the eastern coast of Greenland. Just cracking the window shade was enough to fill the cabin with light, so bright was the sun reflecting off the ocean, the ice, and the clouds. I tried to pick out the shapes of animals, boats, anything, but I'm not sure I actually saw any.

I read for a while and took another nap. Each time I woke up I checked the screen at the front of my seating section to see that a couple more hours had passed. I got through a few chapters of Something Missing and checked the window every so often, but mostly I just saw clouds. After another nap I woke to find that we were within the last 4 hours of the flight. According to the map we were over Afghanistan crossing the border into Pakistan. I took a moment to consider that this was likely the closest I'd ever get to either of these places, and just being able to look out at the parched, cracked earth and know that that's where we were made them more real to me. It was at this point that I started to feel a little anxious. This was really happening. Until now, India still seemed far away both in distance and in time. But now, if I chose to finish my book or flipped through the movies on the screen in front of me and put on Braveheart, I'd be landing by the time it was done.

It was precisely for this reason that I did neither of these things.

I wanted a chance, my last chance, to really think about what was going on. I began to wish I'd learned more Hindi before I left. I wondered if I packed the right clothing. I hoped my contact at Tibet Charity, Kalden, would remember to pick me up at the airport (as it turns out, he did).

As if to echo my own disbelief, the child in the seat in front of me asked his mother “Are we in India?” as we left the airspace over Pakistan.

As we approached Delhi from the northwest, I lifted the shade over my window again. Clouds rolled by, and lightning illuminated the sky beyond the wing. It was incredible. I felt like India was welcoming me, painting a sky more beautiful than any I'd seen before. The lights on the plane would blink and brighten the area for a moment, and then lightning would arc some distance off and reveal the depth and the texture and the massiveness of the clouds.

An hour or so later we finally landed at Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi. Upon disembarking, a flight attendant reminded us not to drink the water; some of the high school kids whose t-shirts identified them as a volunteer group of some sort laughed and announced to each other that they would have forgotten. Not me... I have my UV water bottle handy, and I'm ready to use it. I made it through Immigration (I threw out the pineapple and dates I'd brought after getting paranoid over a story how my uncle had gotten in trouble once for bringing fruit into a foreign country... turns out they didn't even check), got my bag, and found my ride.

One of the first things I learned about India was that taxi drivers are even more .. umm.. assertive here than they are in, say, Chicago. Granted, I don't have a whole lot of experience traveling in big cities, but suffice it to say I was glad I had someone with me who knew what he was doing. Apparently here it's not uncommon to turn around on a road and head back the wrong way, either. You just put on your hazards and people more or less get out of the way. Kalden explained to me that “you can do this here,” and that road rage is nearly nonexistent because this is just how it works in India.

Two traffic jams and as many hours later, we made it to the hotel. I thanked the taxi driver who responded in like, smiled, and bowed, and Kalden and I headed up what I would consider alleyways to the building. I noticed on the way some stenciled words announcing that the area supported Tibetan autonomy. This made me feel strangely welcome and as if I were in fact in the best hotel I could be. (Kalden has informed me since that this whole area is a Tibetan neighborhood.)

My hotel room is small but clean, and it's a bit funny but I find it more comfortable than many hotel rooms I've stayed in in the US. Maybe it's the cleanliness thing. 

The restaurant here is really nice, too. For breakfast I had muesli with yogurt and nice, big chunks of fresh apple, a boiled egg, and milk tea. Yum!

Today is Tuesday, even though yesterday when I left it was Sunday. I'm feeling pretty good so far, so we'll have to see how hard the jet lag hits me in the next few days. Kalden is going to show me around Delhi today. I think I'm going to opt for some scenic destinations, cultural points of interest and whatnot; he tells me he went to see Wolverine in 3D yesterday and it only cost him 150 rupees (about $2.50) so who knows, maybe a movie will make it into the schedule just to say I did it. Tomorrow evening I'll board the bus to Dharamsala which is where I'll be staying for the next 4 months.

P.S. It's hot here. Really hot, and really humid.

P.P.S. Everything here is in English, which makes it really easy to get around. I guess that's one perk to traveling to a country that was a British colony for a really long time.

C138

Suddenly this all seems more real. Catch you on the flip side... ;)

Here we go!

See you soon, Mom and Dad! Lots of love. :) It's adventure time!

T-9hrs

Well, my friends, this is it. According to the clock on my computer, it's exactly nine hours from my scheduled departure time from O'Hare Airport in Chicago.

No, I'm not done packing yet.

Mostly, but not quite. I've got a load of laundry going, I'm filling up my iPod with 4 months worth of music (including the obligatory Sweet Home Chicago), and I'm double-checking that I've got all the essentials for what feels like the millionth time. Passport? Check. Visa? Check. ID? Check. Delicious snacks? Check. Gameboy, charged, with Harvest Moon and Phantasy Star Collection? Check and double check. Half a dozen books (all given to me by you, my friends)? Check x6. I feel like I ought to be able to finish at least three of them by the end of my 15-hour flight from Newark to Delhi.

Also tonight, I counted the cash I've received from friends and family in the last couple of weeks and am looking at my fundraiser page and am pretty much floored at how generous you all have been to me.... I am truly and deeply touched by your philanthropy, and I sincerely hope that my trip lives up to all our expectations!

Much love to you all! <3

The final stretch

We're down to the last few days before I go!

Monday I got my visa applied for and was assured it would be ready by Friday afternoon (nothing like cutting it close to add some spice to the experience), and both my arms are still sore from my immunizations. Normally I'm not a big fan of vaccinations, but seeing as I'm not sure what to expect on the other side of the world, I think I'll play it safe this time.

Packing is underway and I'm making more lists to minimize the chances of forgetting something important. It sounds like the plan now is to spend a day in Delhi before taking the 12-or-so-hour bus up to Dharamsala, which means I'll be arriving a few hours before the opening ceremony on the first day (August 1) of my charity work. I hope I end up with a reliable internet connection so I can keep you all posted!

There's no turning back now

My flights have been booked! I'm officially leaving on Sunday, July 28 from O'Hare, spending a nice long layover with my dear friend Brandi in Newark before the long leg of the trip (Newark to New Delhi), and returning December 6. Jet lag oughtta be fun.