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Making Movies Sociably – A FILMfriendRAISER

By on May 8th, 2012

Sociable Films is local boutique film production company, founded by Nicholas Carella, Ali Liebert, and Michelle Ouellet, which aims to “make movies sociably”. This artist driven philosophy seeks to unite the collective talent and resources of a community of artists in an effort to realize the dreams of many in a fiscally responsible way. While the idea is not altogether new, those attending the launch on Saturday evening seem to agree that this is the way of the future of the film industry, and were eager to support the company in their goals.

The launch, Making Movies Sociably – A FILMfriendRAISER, was a fun and friendly affair set in the intimate environment of Nelson the Seagull Bread & Coffee bar. On entering the event I was welcomed by a row of smiling faces, including promoter Shanti Morning Star Brett and Nicholas Carella, before being directed to both a large table brimming with appetizing finger food as well as a stocked bar serving wine, beer, and SIP soda.

As was promised in the launch invite, the room was full of talented and beautiful people, including Charlotte Hegele, Jodi Balfour and Antonio Cupo of Bomb Girls, as well as actors Olivia Cheng and Louis Ferreira, to name a few. Though saxophonist John Spiby provided background music for a good portion of the evening, we were also treated to the vocal styling of Rachel Noemi, singing Funny Bone, and Hegel’s rendition of Home (originally by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros). The former, with lyrics by Devon Code and melody by Noemi, was written for one of Sociable Films upcoming shorts, Alice and Roy.

…

The remainder of this review can be viewed at http://www.reviewvancouver.org/sp_mmsociably2012.htm


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Review: Said the Whale at the Vogue Theatre

By on May 8th, 2012

Photo © Derek Robitaille

On entering the Vogue Theater on Thursday evening, I was greeted by the muffled sounds of Oh No! Yoko reaching out through a sea of fans and red velvet seats, and in to the busy entrance hall. Up the stairs, past coat check, and down the darkened aisle’s I observed an audience of all ages, some with earnest enthusiasm dancing in their eyes, others with a look of boredom that accompanies unwilling attendees. On the whole, however, the environment was pleasant, with a distinctly youthful energy to it.

My friend and I claimed our seats in the front row just behind the dance floor, which (unbeknownst to us at the time) is a great choice for people watching, playing ‘Spot the Chaperone’, and overseeing some underage lip locking. By the time we had settled in, Oh No! Yoko had completed their set, and preparations were underway to welcome the second band of the evening, Chains of Love. Heralding from Vancouver, this band, formed in 2009, draws inspiration from “1966 sound”, and describes their preferred genre as garage/soul. After listening to their set I would agree that this is a succinct definition of their sound, as the use of tambourine and strong female vocals against a simple back beat are highly reminiscent of 1960′s garage rock bands and Motown hits.

Though this genre is not a regular on my playlist, I had to admire the band for their energy and ability to make a nostalgic sound seem entirely unique. Even with a wall of silhouettes blocking my view, the set was fun to listen to, and their fans seemed to have a pretty great time dancing and singing along to the songs.

Following Chains of Love, we made our way in to the crowd, carefully choosing a spot behind a younger assembly of fans, thus allowing my 5’3 stature perfect view of the stage. When Said the Whale took the stage, the crowd was brimming with excitement, throwing their hands towards the band and yelling out their name.

Though I found the opening to be a bit rushed, the performance picked up after a few songs as the band hit their stride and worked out some kinks. Their set list was comprehensive, including choice favourites from their entire collection, with equal emphasis on the old and the new. The high point for me, however, was the middle portion of the set, which comprised a couple of my favourite songs in recent months, Big Sky, MT and Black Day in December, as well as a clear crowd favourite, The Light is You.

The internal camaraderie of the band as well as their casual, friendly attitude succeeded in creating an intimate yet playful environment, which I found impressive considering their having just toured across the Country for eight weeks. To illustrate this point I present two memorable quotes of the evening: “I cant stop smiling and my face is starting to hurt”, announced by the amiable Ben Worcester, and Tyler Bancroft’s statement that “if I were born in 1993 I would be doing this”, followed by him making a heart shape with his two hands and remarking, “I didn’t even know that was a thing until earlier today”. These along with Worcester’s advice on crowd surfing (take your shoes off and say hi to your neighbour), Spencer Schoening’s acrobatic drumming, and Bancroft’s continual praise of our mutual hometown – to name a few – demonstrated the band’s interactive stage presence and delight at being home.

Said the Whale rounded off the evening with a well-chosen encore including ‘Goodnight Moon’, in which Bancroft’s voice gave out (much to his dismay), leaving his adoring audience to fill in the blanks, and the an energetic rendition of Lucky. The latter morphed in to a chaotic onstage dance party, effectively ending an enjoyable evening of Vancouver-made music on an entertaining high note. Thanks to the band for stopping by, and we look forward to seeing you again!

 

This review and photos of the event can be viewed at http://concertaddicts.ca/2012/05/06/review-said-the-whale-the-vogue-theatre-may-3rd-2012/

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Our Lady Peace: Commodore Ballroom April 19th

By on April 25th, 2012

As I stood outside the Commodore, umbrella in hand, I allowed my eyes to wander through the growing crowd. I was surprised by how many people had shown up, seeing as how even I was a bit iffy about going to see a band that I adored when I was thirteen. The crowd, however, was pretty much what I had expected – a slew of fairly well dressed people aging 20+ (with emphasis on the plus). A tangible sense of excitement permeated the air, encouraging by-standers to question what we were lined up for. A smile came to my lips as I answered, “Our Lady Peace.”

Inside I claimed a table and sat back to enjoy a scene of expectant fans infiltrating every inch of the room. Around 9:30, The Pack A.D., consisting of Maya Miller and Becky Black, took the stage. This female duo, Vancouver born and bred, certainly have their own sound and aren’t afraid to show it. While I still may be suffering the effects of their loud and incessant bass, I otherwise enjoyed their performance, and was impressed by how much energy they had. I must admit that their style would not be everyone’s cup of team, being of the garage-rock genre, but the crowd seemed to love them and I quickly decided that for what they do, they do it well.

There was close to an hour wait between the Pack A.D. and OLP, which I admit was a bit painful (especially as I was wearing heels!), but alas I survived, and was happy I had. Admittedly, I hadn’t listened to OLP in any sort of devoted fashion since around the time of their third album, Happiness..Is Not a Fish That You Can Catch, back in 1999. As such, as the first notes of Raine Maida’s iconic falsetto rang out over the crowd I was immediately transported back in time; an effect that I don’t believe I was alone in feeling.

While the band did play a few songs off their newly released album, Curve, it was their older hits, such as Clumsy and Innocent, which really got the crowd going. The crowd, high on nostalgia and booze, sang and moved with the music as if having had a drought from the fountain of youth. The resulting atmosphere was definitely enjoyable, and I cheered along with the rest of them as the night wore on.

Maida didn’t stop often to chat; however he did take the time to pay respects to the departed rock and roll legend Levon Helm. In his memory, Maida and Steve Mazur, performed an acousitic rendition of Theif , much to the delight of the audience, who swayed with cells phones and lighters in hand, honouring the moment.

Our Lady Peace ended the evening with two encores, including one of my favourite songs, 4AM. As the crowds shuffled out you couldn’t help but overhear the swarm of enthusiastic comments characterizing a mass appreciation for the band’s stage presence and talent. Though I had my doubts going in, I can now say with certainty that after twenty years together, this band’s still got it.

This article can also be viewed at http://concertaddicts.ca/2012/04/20/review-our-lady-peace-at-commodore-ballroom/

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Hello Dolly at Cap University

By on April 8th, 2012

Exit 22 rounds off their season with style and pizzazz as the graduating students of Capilano University’s Musical Theater program sing and dance the night away in Hello Dolly! While the name may conjure up memories of Barbara Streisand or Louis Armstrong’s hit, seeing the theatrical production live was something else altogether.

The story revolves around the iconic Dolly Levi, a vivacious woman adored and sought by all for her expertise in pretty much everything. She is known most of all as a matchmaker, however, and the production focuses on this as she travels from Yonkers to New York in an effort to meddle in the lives and loves of all those who cross her path – including herself.

What I appreciated about this production was the energy with which the actors infused in to their characters. The play involved impressive choreography, which was almost perfectly executed, as well as some big musical numbers and tongue twisting script. Though the ensemble was a bit quiet at times, perhaps due to physical exertion and/or audio levels, the group songs were entertaining to say the least. Stephanie Davis as Dolly was spectacular. The part, I imagine, is not an easy one to pull off, as she fluctuates between personal reflection and outgoing antics while being featured in numerous musical numbers…

Read the rest of this review at http://www.reviewvancouver.org/th_hello_dolly2012.htm

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Two Hearts Yoga Workshop: Yoga from the Heart

By on March 15th, 2012

Jes Von Henzke and Julia Doty

Trauma is something that every human being has in common; whether experienced in the past, present, or coming days. It can result from a vast array of physical or psychological events, and is often characterized by its ability to leave an individual feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Trauma does not discriminate between cultures or economic status, and while each trauma event that we encounter affects us in individual ways, it tends leaves a similar mark on the heart and soul of those it touches. Because of this, trauma can also be a unifying force, a reason to come together and heal.

On February 25th, I attended a workshop run by life-long friends Jes Von Henzke and Julia Doty on healing trauma through the teachings and practice of yoga. The overall message was that every individual has the power within to face our emotions and reactions; that although the road to recovery may be tough (for Rome was not built in a day), with some tools in our belt and a helping hand we can work towards a happier and more stable place.

Jes and Julia are two very knowledgeable and enthusiastic yogini’s with loving hearts and a desire to connect with others. Like many of us in this world, they have both been through hard times that have not only shaped who they have become but also what they want to do with their time here on Earth. Luckily for us, one of their mutual dreams is to share with others the lessons and tools that they have picked up throughout their own personal journeys in life and yoga. They have been teaching yoga separately for four years, and have more recently combined forces in Two Hearts Yoga (http://www.twoheartsyoga.ca/), with the goal of helping to “guide people through their journey, whether it be healing from trauma, or learning how to find a deeper connection from within.”

The tools that these women offered in their recent workshop at YYoga ranged from understanding the physical stress response to utilizing yoga, meditation and journal writing techniques (don’t worry, there’s no show and tell) to cope with the emotions and strain associated with trauma events. Aside from the fact that you leave feeling better than when you arrived (having practiced everything they teach you), you are also now armed with the foundations of working through ‘the tough stuff’ that life throws us.

On reflecting on this workshop, and future plans, Jes and Julia commented:

“Our workshops are absolutely transformational, not just for our students, but for us as well. As we continue on our own paths of healing, we are absolutely filled to the brim by being able to guide those who need a helping hand. The workshop we recently lead at Yaletown YYoga was full of open hearts willing to do the work that it takes to make a difference in their lives, and that is truly inspiring for us! At the end of the day, if we can make a difference in just one persons life and holistic path to healing, then all the grief, anxiety, depression, and pain that we’ve experienced will be worth it.

As for our plans for the future, we feel that there is a major lack of support in this area of healing, and we are going to do everything we can to get this out to as many souls as possible. We are developing more classes and workshops to offer, so that we can adapt to any time frame that is available to us, at any studio, workplace, therapy clinic, and community center out there. This is our offering to our brothers and sisters to help re-create the supple beauty of the heart, and it is our intention to spread the word far and wide.”

As for me, the workshop not only provided me some useful information, but also inspired me to take a critical look at current accepted individual-centered coping mechanisms for trauma events.  How I see it, our society has a tendency to tell people to just “deal with it” individually, but if we are all living with trauma anyways, it’s not really an individual exercise, is it? This workshop provided an invitation and safe environment for people to come together and learn that they are not only not alone, but can actually help one another just by acknowledging that we, like others, are struggling – an empowering realization in itself.

I would like to thank Jes and Julia for their enthusiasm and passion for a topic that is too often neglected in our society. I wish you the best of luck and encourage the Vancouver yoga community to embrace and support conversations and ideas of this nature. For, as the great French writer Anatole France once said, “the accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.”

Thanks!

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G. Love & Special Sauce at The Commodore Ballroom

By on March 3rd, 2012

photo cred Jamie Taylor at http://concertaddicts.ca/

Photo cred Jamie Taylor at http://concertaddicts.ca/

After a long day of school on the first of March I shuffled in to the warmth of the Commodore Ballroom, settling down on a corner barstool for an evening of music and people watching. The Commodore is one of my favourite venues, I must admit, so when the chance to escape the monotony of exams and papers arrived in the form of G. Love’s tour to Vancouver, I pretty much jumped at the chance.

From my perch I scanned the gathering crowds; an odd combination of hipsters, stoners, and trendy urbanites claiming tables near the bar or staking out dance floor real estate. Couples leaned into one other and friends laughed over beer while the curtains of The Commodore blocked out Vancouver’s lights and the opening act took to the stage.

Though the original line-up included Scott H. Biram as the opener, it ended up being a guitar duo featuring Vancouver born Cameron Latimer on vocals. The band put on a 20 minutes set of country-esque songs that on the whole was slightly underwhelming, though I hear tell they perform a wide range of music and are quite skilled musicians, so I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt on this one, assuming it was either an off night or just not my style of music. That aside, I did find their CD title track, “Falling Apart” to be quite an endearing tune.

A restless forty-five minutes followed as we awaited the arrival of the much-anticipated G. Love & Special Sauce. Before I go on, I must explain the band behind the name, as every time I mention their name at least one ignorant person cocks their eye in badly disguised judgment. The band, which features Garrett Dutton (a.k.a G. Love), Jeffrey Clemens, Mark Boyce (not at this

concert), and Timo Shanko, draw on influences from blues, country, hip hop and roots music (to name a few), utilizing an eclectic range of instruments including string bass, drums, keyboard, guitar, and harmonica. They have a laid-back sound and casual stage presence that, combined with their rhythmic lyrics and inter-genre style, gives the band a unique appeal. Though I can’t put my finger on where the ‘Special Sauce’ comes in, rumour has it that Dutton chose his “G. Love” pseudonym coz it just sounded right.

The band introduced themselves by way of G. Love’s iconic and drawling “awwwww yeah”, much to the delight of the crowd, and quickly got to work on pumping out a series of eclectic songs in seamless transition.

In my limited experience with G. Love live, I’ve come to realize that he is one of those artists who is best understood and appreciated in this setting. While I may not fully grasp his fast-paced style of lyricism at times, his charisma saturates every tune, and somehow despite the lack of understanding, his message comes across.

Though a clear crowd favourite was “Who’s got the Weed” (celebrated enthusiastically by inebriated chanting and slightly illicit scents), my own favourite moments were those in between vocals, when the band simply played music. It was in these moments that one gets a real sense of the talent of these musicians. Perhaps I have a soft spot for harmonica and string bass solos, who knows, but either way I thought it was pretty darn fantastic.

The thing that struck me the most about this performance was the easy ebb and flow of the set, which traversed slow hypnotic valleys and energetic peaks. The combination of genres that is characteristic of the band truly showed its colours, as they chose songs from their older albums, more focused on rock and hip hop-blues, all the way through to their latest, “Fixin’ to Die”, which has a decidedly more country feel to it.

All in all it was the evening I was looking for; an escape from everyday life and the mountain of work awaiting me at home. I mean, let’s be honest, what better way is there to evade responsibility than to go see a white dude with a harmonica rap about peace, love and happiness?

This review and more photos from the concert can be viewed at http://concertaddicts.ca/2012/03/02/photos-g-love-special-sauce-at-commodore-ballroom/ and http://concertaddicts.ca/2012/03/03/review-g-love-special-sauce-at-commodore-ballroom/?doing_wp_cron=1330807369

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The Crucible: Cap University

By on February 21st, 2012

What would you do if your life depended on a lie that would destroy both your honour and integrity in one fell swoop? Would you swallow your pride or stand up for your beliefs? It was these questions, along with a string of others, which dominated by thoughts as I left EXIT22’s production of The Crucible.

The Crucible, written by Arthur Miller, was premiered on Broadway in 1953. The story, which is a fictionalized representation of the Salem Witch Trials in the late 1600’s, also creates an allegory for Sen. John McCarthy’s anti-communist congressional hearings and subsequent culture of fear which was unfolding at the time The Crucible was premiered. Though the play was only modestly successful at first, it did bring him some unwanted attention from authorities (not surprisingly), and later became one of his most produced and well known plays, eventually being adapted to opera and film….

View the rest of this review at Review Vancouver’s website: http://www.reviewvancouver.org/th_the_crucible2012.htm

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Back in Vancity

By on February 7th, 2012

As I bask in the rays of a cold winter sun, surrounded by the comforts of home, family and friends, I can’t help but look back on my trip as something of a distant dream. The tropical warmth, crowded streets, and daily adventures which characterized my life for over three months seem to transform before my eyes in to mere anecdotes and memories as the rhythm of VanCity claims me once more. The cold, unbearable at first, has lessened its bite, the price of food (though still atrocious) is not quite as appalling, and though the blatant lack of streetwise bovine does leave me pining for foreign soil from time to time, I’m happy to be home. That being said, I can’t help but feel slightly guilty for my lack of writing. The thing is, coming home was a pretty big transition and what with socializing and school I just haven’t found the time to truly reflect on my journey until quite recently.

Since arriving home I have been asked an assortment of questions regarding my trip, ranging topics from my favourite food to what it was like to live in an area so fraught with poverty and social injustice.The most frequently asked questions I heard, however, were those regarding the chances of my returning to the areas I visited, what I learned, and what my favourite place or most memorable moment was. Now, you’d be surprised at how difficult answering these seemingly straight forward questions have been at times, and I admit that I have brushed them off more than once for lack of motivation in coming up with compelling answers. Those days are over however, and I hope that the following post will sum up a few of the answers I’ve come up with.

Now that I have had time to get over my jet leg and post-travel emotional exhaustion, the first question is easy enough for me to answer: yes, I would go back. Of the three countries I visited I would say that India was both the most challenging and rewarding, and if given the opportunity I would not hesitate to visit it again. I would also jump at the chance the indulge in indonesia once more, as it piqued my imagination and interest more than I could have imagined. Any expectations that I had for each country, however, we’re completely swept away in traversing them, which was absolutely one of my favourite characteristics of the trip.

As for what I learned, all I can say without delving in to the depth of the experience is that I learned about myself and the world. I learned about fear, courage and survival and what each of those characteristics look like in a variety of situations. I learned to appreciate what I have in a completely non-cliche way, and to work hard for my dreams because I can. The world is a beautiful place full of unique cultures and individuals, but we all have something in common; we live in a world that is getting smaller and more globalized with each passing day. No longer can we (or should we) stick our heads in the earth and ignore the world around us and the combination of both suffering and joy that accompanies it. There’s a lot of things going on out there on a variety of scales big and small and while I won’t take the time to discuss any of them now, one of the things that was driven home for me is that discussion is essential and now is the time.

Moving on from the heavy stuff, however, I come to the third question: what was my most favourite place or most memorable moment. I find this to be the hardest question to answer as there are so many options! I’ve decided that it’s actually impossible to give one answer and instead will come up with a few for each country. As this blog is already long enough and I need to study for an exam I’ll be posting 3-4 photo-blogs recapping my most memorable moments and favourite things over the next few weeks, so stay tuned!

I’ll also be transitioning my blog back to an arts focus over the next few weeks (as sadly my traveling ways are on hiatus for at least the semester) so keep an eye out for that as well.

Cheers!

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Wandering Far from Where I Sit

By on December 16th, 2011

As storm clouds gather over Padangbai I sit on my second floor balcony on my brown wicker chair awaiting the first drops of rain to fall on my skin. The air is thick with anticipation and a hush falls over the town.

The first drops of rain fall down. A rooster crows, the trees rustle, my tea grows cold. From where I sit I can see the red tiled roofs of the town popping up in between an expanse of lush green forest. Trees of every shape and size live here, stretching out over mountains and valleys as far as my eyes can see. Behind my little room lies a dainty little harbour filled with fishing and transportation boats. Men offering trips to Lombok and women selling sarongs fill the sidewalks. But from here I cannot see this world; only the roofs, the trees and the rain exist.

The rain falls down harder; I move my chair under cover.

And so and I sit, gathering my thoughts; my mind wanders through memories of late, stopping at each happy thought for a short visit before moving on. Since coming to Bali I often sit and think like this – something about this island allows one to easily indulge their leisure loving side.

But which of my happy memories am I visiting today? Is it my time spent at the Rodah family homestay, or my morning rice paddy walk? Perhaps it’s the Kecak dancers I saw or the young jazz group which played at Casa Luna in Ubud. Certainly watching the community shadow puppet show surrounded by at least a hundred laughing Balinese merits a visit, or even the hours spent in local shops and cafe’s over the past few days? If not these then surely my recent visit to the secluded white sand beach, watching an electrical storm from this very terrace, or snorkeling in Blue Lagoon has made the cut.

Yes, all of these images and more pop in to my mind as I travel through each moment of my time in Bali. However, these are not the things which keep me here on this terrace overlooking the town and the forest.

The rain subsides as darker clouds inch their way through the valley. An odd song floats out over the town through a loud speaker; bells are tinkling and a low voice chants words foreign to my ears, piquing my curiosity and shifting my thoughts for a moment or two.

A raindrop falls once more, the song ends as quickly as it began, and the hush is renewed.

What keeps me here on this terrace are my memories of people I have met these past ten days. Everywhere I go, it seems, there is a friendly smile waiting, filled with questions and thoughts just waiting to be heard. The people of Bali are endearing in their own direct and open hearted way and I cannot help but adore them for it. Whether my new acquaintances I will meet again it does not matter; what matters is that in our moments together we have made eachothers lives more full and happy than they otherwise were.

Alas my little IPod is dying and my tea is all gone; it is time to retire from thoughtful wanderings and return to the concrete world where a banana chocolate chip cake awaits my arrival. Farewell fond memories, until we meet again.

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Kuta: an unexpected introduction to Bali life

By on December 13th, 2011

Although there must be more to Kuta than meets the eye, at first glance this beachside town comes across as simply a lively hedonistic surfers paradise. Crowded bars, shops, and fast food joints line the brightly lit boulevard looking out over Kuta’s white sand beach, creating a Hawaii come Vegas atmosphere, while crashing waves and warm evening air lure aspiring beach bums from around the globe.

Being not ten minutes away from Bali’s airport, this town is also something of a hub for the island, inviting a relentless hoard of tourists and weekend warriors to fill the streets from dusk until dawn. The atmosphere is exciting yet casual and affords the interested traveller with some fantastic opportunities for a bit of light hearted people watching. Families of half burned westerners collide with moon-eyed couples and fresh faced youth creating what you can imagine to be an interesting collage of ever changing faces.

The beach, though not considered one of the most beautiful in Bali, has it’s own unique personality. Along the entirety of the beach a multicultural bevy of half naked bodies (in all states of tan) bask in the sun, living in relative harmony with the variety of flattering peddlers treading at their feet. Out on the waves trainees stumble through the waters with an air of defiant happiness while seasoned boarders catch their waves with casual precision. We spent about an hour or so lounging in the sand of Kuta, watching the comings and goings of life all around before hunger and sleep beckoned us back in to town.

Branching off from the main drag is found a map-work of narrow streets and alleyways housing an eclectic assortment of surf shops, cafe’s, and vulgar trinkets. It was not far from here that Katie and I found our home at Suji Bungalows. Though the alley that it’s located on boasts an interesting collection of shops (including quant mini marts, vendors selling “Absolute Vodka” petrol, and a not-so-mysterious “magic mushroom” shop), the property itself is an oasis “away from it all”. The accommodations comprise a complex of bite sized bungalows with private terraces and beautiful gardens, surrounding a small yet pristine pool, massage facility and restaurant. It was the perfect remedy for a tired traveller and I must admit that I wiled away many a poolside hour with book in hand.

On leaving Kuta we drove through a very different area of town existing in contrast to everything we had grown to know about the town in our short time there. Not far from the alleyways this area features some wonderful temples, a massive galleria, and streets filled with normal everyday life type of activity. As I had previously assumed, there was more to Kuta than first met the eye, however the lure of that more obvious area of town kept our bubble of ignorance in tact until the last. Despite this revelation I am still content with our stay; though the nature of the main drag was something of a shock to the system after a month is quiet little Agonda, it was certainly interesting to enjoy the show.

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Breaking the Travel Day Curse

By on December 11th, 2011

If I have not mentioned it before, travel days have historically been the bane of my existence; long hours, sleepless nights, heavy bags and bad food seemed to always lend itself to an easy shift in attitude for the worse. As such, as I stood on the brink of 39.5 hours of travel from India to Bali one can imagine how easy it would have been for me to lapse in to a state of despair. Not feeling quite so dramatic at the time of departure however, I decided to make the best of the situation by choosing to enjoy each phase of the journey (of which there were six) in advance as it’s own unique little adventure.

Phase one and two, which involved a one hour taxi ride to Goa Airport and a short flight to Mumbai, were as pleasant and uneventful as they could be. Having not slept well the preceding night I napped my way through the car ride, only gaining consciousness long enough to be reminded of the busy world of India outside Agonda’s front door, and the flight (it was our first on Kingfisher Airlines) I found to be quite acceptable in terms of service and comfortability considering the duration of travel.

Our next phase left us in the Mumbai airport awaiting our flight to Kuala Lumpur. Though our five hour layover began on a low note after missing our first shuttle between terminals, we found the international airport staff and amenities to more than make up for the snag. After experiencing the most enjoyable customs and security screenings I’ve ever come across and grabbing a bowl of noodles and some overpriced bakery goods we settled in at our departure gate to await our delayed plane’s arrival.

The flight to Kuala Lumpur, which comprised five hours of air time, flew by quickly owing to the fact that I napped the entire time. Of course, as anyone who has tried to sleep in a not so comfy airplane seat will know, I did not have the best of naps; constantly shuffling around and pulling my blanket this way and that trying to find that blessed nook between plastic wall and airplane chair. Nevertheless I did not let this or the growing lack of sleep get me down and soon found myself being shuffled across a lane of tarmac into the small arrivals area of Kuala Lumpur’s Air Asia security center.

Phase five, consisting of a twelve hour layover in Kuala Lumpur, was certainly the most tiring and exciting stage of our long journey. After catching some zee’s on a baggage claim bench we went on a search for much needed caffeine. Katie opted for a quick pick-me-up at what appeared to be the coworkers hang out before we ran in to a brightly lit and ever-so welcoming Starbucks cafe. The familiar menu, Christmas music, and free WIFI opened it’s arms to us like a long lost friend and we sat and enjoyed the scene for a good hour before moving on. Our caffeine fix abated we jumped on a bus to “Sentral Station” (yes that is the correct spelling), where we wandered through a market of adorable little Malaysian trinkets before jumping on a skytrain to the famed Patronas Twin Towers.

Now I must digress in order to touch on perhaps the most interesting part of this Malaysian detour, which was the culture shock which accompanied it. This experience, of course, was different to what it had been when confronted by Thailand or India’s relative poverty, for as my eyes fell upon clean organized highways, neighborhoods of neatly built homes, and sleek commerce and transportation centers I felt fairly overwhelmed by the modernity of it all. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I had seen a city with these characteristics; the same characteristics I know await me on my arrival home. The city gave off an impression of high tech, wealth and organization, made all the more apparent by the drastic comparison of my last impression of India; the slums bordering the Mumbai airport. Not having much time to muse over the sensations of this shock, however, I stored them in my bank of memories to consider in weeks to come.

Back in Kuala Lumpur we arrived at the towers only to learn that the tours for the day had been sold out; determined to make the most of our time however, we wandered through the massive Christmas bedazzled mall inside, caught a sold out movie in the theatre and enjoyed a live Christmas concert in the main plaza. Having filled ourselves on rice and veggies at one of the largest food courts I’ve seen we made our way back to the airport to catch our 9pm flight to Bali.

Like the beginning of our trip, the end was also somewhat uneventful, and therefor easy to handle in our sleep deprived state. The three hour flight featured a fairly empty plane and a lightening storm over Indonesia while arrivals involved a relatively painless visa application and baggage pick up process. We grabbed a ten minute taxi to our bungalow in Kuta and settled in for a much appreciated good night’s rest.

Though it took a few days for our exhaustion and jet leg to wear off, in looking back I can’t help but be amazed at the ease of the journey we took. Our spirits held the entire time and we were able to enjoy the process; not a mean feat in the face of long hours, multiple airports and the array of other possible hitches that can occur on travel days. Perhaps it was luck or perhaps it was simply a change in attitude; either way I’m happy to say that I not only survived the longest travel day of my life yet, but actually enjoyed it too!

Asia Fall 2011, Travel, Uncategorized 1 comment

Seaside sunsets and November days

By on December 5th, 2011

As I sit before the crashing waves and fisherman boats of Agonda Beach I look to the horizon and find it hard to believe that I have spent the past thirty-eight days on this small stretch of land. A crab scuttles by, a dog barks, and the sun rises once more, casting a golden pink hue from sand to sea, marking yet another day of life in Goa State.

For many it will play out like any other; a beachside bowl of banana porridge to start followed by lazy hours lounging in the sun and a visit to the laundry lady with her little family shop. Around midday one might opt for a book swap at the Butterfly Bookstore, a piece of honey cake from the German Bakery, or a swim in the Arabian Sea, choosing to end the day with either a projected movie at Saxony’s or a tiramisu at La Dolce. Of course these represent but a few of the daily options, but when not engrossed in yoga studies my own days here looked much like this (only filled to the brim with laughter and love with friends old and new). But I digress…

I arrived in Agonda on November 29th and fell for it’s charms almost immediately, delayed only by a lingering sense of travel wearied bitterness. I remember staring at the white sand beach and expanse of ocean and not believing my good fortune – one whole month of learning the ins and outs of yoga and living in this paradise of a town seemed too good to be true. But true it was, and soon enough my 200 hour yoga TTC had begun, quickly filling my daylight hours with meditation, asana, philosophy, and anatomy classes. Despite the mental and physical exhaustion which accompanied this transition the days flew by and I soon found myself wondering how it was possible that one can experience so much when time is racing by at such high speeds.

Our first weekend we spent in weary relaxation, mostly keeping to ourselves and wandering out only when necessity demanded it. The town itself was beginning to stir around us as if waking from a dream; construction commenced in every spare plot and boarded up stores began to stock their shelves. Tourist season was coming, and with it a greater assortment of activities to explore.

Our second week began and ended with high spirits and happy memories; our weekday mornings consisting of sleepy sunrises and group breakfasts followed by lunchtime swimming and platefuls of cheap thali. Our time began to fill with getting to know our new friends, and when I wasn’t ardently studying I was spending time with them.

This week also featured a group boat trip to nearby Khola Beach. The beach itself is charming enough, especially in the company of friends, but what really made the trip was our close encounter with a pod of playful dolphins not ten feet from our boat. During the weeks that followed I often saw these dolphins far off shore dancing in the waves at Agonda Beach, but that first time was (and still is) the closest I have ever seen them in the wild.

The following week was marked by growing exhaustion and a drop off in study hours on my part (allowing for an increase in hours spent in more amusing activities of course). This week I discovered the charming Arabian Nights, with it’s friendly waiters and delicious lassi’s, as well as Green Valley Restaurant with it’s delectable hot chocolate and channa masala. I spent most of my spare time on the beach or hanging out with friends; drinking tea and/or wine, eating cake and curry, and spending the evening hours stargazing and laughing until tears filled our eyes. It was in week three that I also experienced my first Ayurvedic massage. If you have not yet experienced this unique service, I can only say that it is an interesting one. While i don’t quite feel the need to elaborate much, I will say that it was possibly the oddest and most intimate (if not relaxing) massage I’ve ever had.

Week four was filled with feelings of wonderment and denial at the quick passage of time. We had a sunset beach photoshoot, played around with yoga dance and handstands, taught our own thirty minute yoga classes, and ended our time together with a dance party and dinner DJ’d by Canada’s own Bradly Terrell. Following our closing ceremony we held on to each other unabashedly; a family of friends feeling saddened to part. Our numbers dwindled by one that very day as our Austrian sister took a bus out of town and we each tried to forget that with the succession of time we would all follow suite.

The day following gave us a respite from tears as it was Jen’s 20th birthday and we celebrated accordingly. We began the day with a meal at the famed organic joint down the road, Blue Planet, and ended it with dinner and a movie (and a beautiful chocolate cake from Chowdie!) at Saxony’s Restaurant. We laughed and ate heartily, and discouraged all thoughts of our next farewell until 2:30AM when our own Irish lass made her exit. The parting was sad but, as with all others, the promise of future reunions lightened our hearts as we saw her off.

This is about when the exhaustion from the month finally caught up with me, as well as (paradoxically) a sense of extreme contentment with my life. The following days up until now have been filled with morning asana, playing in the water, meditating near the waves, enjoying sunsets, and attending parties. In other words, life has been pretty good.

This morning I decided to wake early and walk to the far end of the beach from where I can see the sun rise and daily life commence. I see families walking along the sea trodden sand, cows meandering through the yards of transient dwellings, brightly dressed women heading towards unknown destinations, and the work worn waiters of each beachside restaurant raking the sand and readying the tables. Agonda is beautiful now as ever and as I come to terms with my own immanent departure I can’t help but look back on my time here with a fond smile. I will miss the sounds of the beach and the constant yet casual thrum of life all around. If there is one thing I’ve learned this month, however, it’s that every moment we have the capacity to be content with our lives and surroundings if only we choose to be so. Therefore, as I sit here writing with the sun at my back and the sea stretched around me, I will choose to be completely content with this moment, and to look forward with earnest to the adventures to come…