Hard life...

Mammoth mountain it's open, and to me, that marks the start of the winter. The moment in time, when I start to look at the weather forecast and snow reports with consistent devotion. Yet, this year, and I am beginning to wonder if I will even use my season pass. I know, this sounds almost like blasphemy. But I am down south now, and the idea of simply heading north for a couple of weeks feel at time a bit out of place. We'll see how the year develops...

In the meantime, summer is here in Uruguay. The flies, the overwhelming heat are a true testament to it. KC sleeps even longer naps during the day, only to resurrect when the sun starts fading in the west (which happens quite late these days) and the temperature becomes more forgiving.



KC lying in the sun in Punta del Este.

Kirtans...

As I said a while ago, kirtans and the yoga community are among the things I miss the most from LA (quite close for the top spot with Trader Joes). In mid September I got the chance to go back and spend a couple of weeks in LA, simply reconnecting and getting back in touch with people. I was fortunate to be there just in time for this year's edition of the Global Mala event. Not only I got to listen to wonderful performers, but also I got to spend time outside in the Loyola campus.



Global Mala Project 2008 in the Loyala Marimount University Campus. Saul David Raye

Interestingly, my prayers got answered in many more ways than I could anticipate. Not long after my original post of what I miss from LA, I got a mail from Krishna Das communicating that he would be perfroming in Buenos Aires (which is just 20 minutes away by plane from Montevideo). It was a great opportunity for Clara and I to spend time vacationing in there, and to nurture our souls with some great performance.



Neem Karoli Baba's picture in the audio console - certainly an inspiration!

If you want to see more images from this event, check them out in here.

Reminders...

Today we had the opportunity to do some socials and we spent the afternoon at a friends house, who was celebrating his birthday. As always I took my camera with me, and through the course of the afternoon just took it out for the 'candle-cake' moment. As I got home and look through the few pictures I took, I was reminded how of how much I love to shoot people. How much I like to get close on them and find those expressions that speak for themselves. Tare care and enjoy... Martin.

What I miss... the LA's yoga community and more...

I have been lately spending some time looking at my photo archive, and processing many images from late last year, as well as early this year, before our move to South America. And as I went through them, I came across a few images I took at a Kirtan last January in Exhale (Santa Monica, CA). It was so sweet to re-connect with the energy and the feelings of being in a Kirtan.



This is something I really miss about LA. Having a kirtan every week, being close to the LA yoga community, nurturing from the wonderful energy of it's members, and taking pictures while I chanted in total trance. I am happy that a lot of my work before leaving LA was very related to the yoga community.

On a perhaps less elevated level, I miss the food like crazy. Who would have said that I would grow such a dependency with Trader Joe's? Before moving to LA, I remember reading a post on the web, of a person who after moving out of state, decided to return to California, because he could not take being apart from Trader Joe's... I dismissed it as just another eccentricity of a 'california dude'. Yet, I have to say that perhaps I am not as close to leaving everything behind here down south, but I sure miss the great food.

On nutrition related topics (or perhaps social), I miss a lot the cool places to eat in west LA. Don't get me wrong. You can eat well in Montevideo (certainly not a great variety on the healthier side, not to mention on the veggie side); but what this place does NOT have, is breakfast places. I miss so much our neighborhood's cafes. For whatever the reason, that I have just not figured out yet, people do not go out for breakfast in here... and the places there are, lack any kind of individuality, charm or creativity in their food offer of feel for the place. Long live Zabbie's and Cafe Bolivar! :)

Well, I'll head down to the kitchen to deal with my need for some nurturing food!

When it all becomes real...

Today it's May 21st, 2008. How easy it is to sit back and look at my life in retrospective... How different it is to go through while I still don't know the outcome. And even though I know, I really know that at the end it all works out, while I am going through it, I never seem to be able to remember this pearl of wisdom.

For several years Clara and I have have debated, wondered, pondered and wished for clarity in terms of where we should settle down and establish ourselves. I have learned this is particularly difficult for a couple who does not share the same place of birth, and even more complicated when one of the partners practically has no country of origin what so ever.



To a certain extend, this question, of where I should live, or perhaps where I belong, has been running my mind for as long as I can remember. Soon after I left Venezuela at around age 14, perhaps because my parents lived in opposite extremes of the Americas, this notion of where I belonged, was quite omnipresent in my mind. I would guess most kids this age rarely get to even think or consider this. But for me this has been a running theme.

On February 25th 2008, it all became real for us. That day we closed our home in Los Angeles; that day the movers stripped naked out home, exposing the most intimate corners of what for over two years was 'our place'; that place was the first place Clara and I could call home; it was the first place we co-created, fixed and decorated to become our first creation as a couple.



Nowadays we spend our days in Montevideo, in a rented home as we eagerly await for the arrival of our things, as we look ahead to manifest our green home in the piece of land we bought. During the past couple of months since we arrived, I have had my ups and downs. There are days where it all makes sense, and yet there are other where I wonder what is it that I am doing here... Due to those wonderful synchronicities of the universe, it seems that when ever I am down, Clara is up, and the other way around. Now, if this post should serve me in any way, I should be reminded that eventually it all works out just fine...

I am curious if I will ever will get to call this place, or any other place home. Perhaps I will only get this feeling of having a real sense of home, when I have kids, and when they grow in a place that they can themselves call home. Perhaps then, it will all make sense inside... or perhaps I will be an eternal citizen of the world, pulled in so many directions wishing to be here, and yet wanting to be there.



In any case, here we are with the clearest intention of making the best out of it. And, if anything else, I have a lot to be grateful about. In this coming and going, I have grown a profound appreciation of looking inward, and making this place, my place. I am grateful about being able to observe my life through the lens of my own camera. To be blessed with the possibility to document my life as it happens, and be able to pause, to observe, to pause again, and to eventually take in a deep breath, relax and move on in the knowing that it's all good...

KC's case of insomnia.

I have not had much time to blog about KC since we got to Uruguay. Since the move I have not shot much work, yet I continue to find inspiration (thank God) at home, where I spend a lot of time besides work. As always, a good part of my in house photo work revolves around KC.

Many things have changed for him since we moved. For starters, he has a much bigger garden. Not that he really knows what to do with it; he spends most of his time inside right next to us. Even though in LA we had grown to the point where he was more independent and would go outside on his own, since we got here, he has been very attached. The moment one of us gets up, he does so as well and will follow you to make sure you don't leave him behind.

Another difference for him, has been the fact that we totally changed his diet. Dog food in Uruguay has not come along as much as in the US, where you get kibble that is organic, and with a minimum share of grain, which dogs have a really hard time digesting. The best we found in here, has as the main ingredient corn, which is obviously cheaper than animal based protein. So KC has gone raw! I will post a video some time later about his first uncooked chicken. He was totally puzzled and took quite a while to figure out what to do with it. Now a days he chews and triturates bones like he's eating mash potatoes.

Another thing that has been a big change for him, has been that he is starting to stay alone at home, something I resisted all throughout the year a half that we had him in LA. Clara and I working from home, and having my mom, Bill and their dogs just five minutes away was the perfect excuse for me to not confront leaving him alone. I say 'confront' because I realize that I have a harder time leaving him than he does staying alone, to the point that I have realized what a big learning opportunity it is for me to deal with my abandonment issues...

But one thing has remained constant. As evidenced by the images below, KC continues to have a hard time sleeping. We have not been able to find a way to make him sleep comfortably...

KC is showing clear signs of insomnia!









Oh, by the way. Since he was welcomed-bitten by the doggie gangsters of the neighborhood, in order to compensate for the emotional distress, we allowed him to sleep in the bed for almost 3 weeks. After this period, not only was he feeling much better, but he had also managed to feel comfortable enough to expand his presence from a tiny corner of the bed, to almost half of it, leaving Clara and I in a full size bed curled-up in the top half. You can see him in action below.

While my eyes are still fresh...

I am still enjoying this honeymoon of coming to a new place, and being able to be surprised and amazed by all the things different before they become the norm. As much as I would love to be able to have this ability innate no matter where I am (which at times I do), I realize that this happens a lot more gracefully when I am in a new place...

Among the many errands I have been running since we got to Uruguay, one of the more interesting was opening my business. You must understand that opening a business in Uruguay involves three main organizations (DGI - the equivalent of IRS, BPS - similar to the social security, and the ministry of work). Thankfully, at least they all have offices in the same building. It used to be that you would have to go from one office in one part of town, to the other in another part of town, just to find out that you had missed a signature or a stamp.

But integration, at least in some form has gotten to these institutions, that unable to link their systems together, now seat to reps, one from each company in the same desk, so once one has gotten all the information into the system, the other can go ahead to replicate the process in the systems of the other entity. Not fancy, yet more streamlined that in the past... :)

The final step in this process is to print your invoices in an 'official' print shop. There are only a limited number of print shops that are registered and authorized to print invoices, and the government keeps a tight control on such documents, like the numbers and series that have been printed. In order to finalize the process, you must know the name and the RUT (which is a 12 digit number) of the printshop. Since I did not know this information of any of the authorized print shops, I went with one that had given me a little hand made flyer on my way in, which wisely included precisely the required information to complete this process.

Feeling incredibly wise and smart for having accepted such flyer (and thus avoiding having to go back and make the line again), I decided to call the print shop to take the form and request the invoices. I was surprised by the phone number area code. Totally unfamiliar. Once I found out where this was, quite far and in a part of town I had never visited before, I requested to fax the form to avoid having to go twice, only to find out that the print shop did not have one of such hight tech devices available. So there I went... I had to ask several of the people at work to kind of get a sense of how to get there.

The print shop was quite amazing. You can see it by yourself in the image below. I have to say though, the service was outstanding. Incredibly manual and all, but the rep was well informed, was very detailed oriented, and the process - which existed - included a step by step form that was handed out to minimize problems. I chose the fast delivery option (there was also regular and super fast - 2 day turn around).


The print shop I was required to use to print the official invoices required by law to operate a business in Uruguay.


As I looked at awe through the bars of the precarious window, I asked the person on the other side if they printed there. Cordially he explained that this was the issue and reception office, extending his hand through the window and pointing down to the hand painted sign on the wall. He further explained that this job would go to one of the many printing facilities the company has... All I can say is that they did deliver on time and did a great job!

To see more of my Uruguay work, click here.

Don't be fooled by the 95...

As many if you know, we are moving back to Uruguay. From a photographic perspective, it is my intention to dedicate the next few years to document many aspects of Uruguay that really stand out to me as I go back an immerse again in society. This is something that I feel I have to do while I am still 'fresh' and while my eye it's compelled to look for this aspects in daily life that in so many ways differ from what my life has looked like in the past years. Uruguay has many amazing and beautiful aspects of life as it used to be.

These to images are from my recent attempt to renew my Uruguayan documents. In all fairness, renewing the ID it's a much more sophisticated process that it actually involves a computer. But in my case there seems to be an anomaly with my birth certificate. This meant that I had to go back to the Archive to retrieve it.

Don't be fooled by the '95'... it was about the only thing in this whole place that actually used electricity to operate. Yes, there was a computer in the desk, but as far as I was able to observe, it's not used for any activity in any way related to the archival of such precious documents as your birth certificate.



The gentlemen asked me in which year I had registered it (not being my year of birth since I was actually born in Venezuela). He also asked if I remembered the 'book number' and 'Acta' (have no clue what this is in English) used to registered it. As you can imagine, I had no clue... I must have done this sometime in 1985.

After a dedicated search procedure involving all the files with my last name, and those similar to account for possible human filing error, it was determined that my birth certificate was not available. Options... well, not many. Perhaps registered it again? I'll let you know when I am back...



To see more of my Uruguay work, click here.

We do... We love the snow...

This is a recap of our winter vacation in Mammoth Lakes, Ca. Nature, once again treated me to feet of powder over several days! Thanks Nature!

Amazon... You have to be kidding me!

I am not quite sure what's Amazon's position on the environment and corporate responsibility, but if I have to judge by my most recent purchase, commitment it's not the word that comes to mind!

I ordered a quite unique battery replacement for my watch that it's nearly weightless and thin as a quarter (as you might expect from a battery for a watch). Well, take a look at the box and protective materials that Amazon chose to ship this purchase. Guys... it could have been delivered in an envelope!


Packing used by Amazon to ship a watch battery replacement.

Some things make it real... Kalamata hits the road and Matilda is looking for a new home!

In my short 37 years of life, this coming relocation to Uruguay will be my 7th major move (involving changing countries). And in this process, among the many things I have learned about moving and myself, one is really very present lately. And that is that as I go through the motion of preparing, packing and moving, pretty much as if nothing was happening, there comes a point in which something makes it real... very real!

When I left Uruguay and moved to Chile, that time was when I left my plants at a friends house (some of my friends are still frustrated that they were not able to pull a tear out of me and the plants did!). Well, this time it was parting from the Kalamata!

Beyond my profound relationship with him (I know this might sound absurd to some, but it is not to me), he has been really my partner since day one in the US (literally). I landed in Miami International at 5.45am on Dec 31st, 2000. By 4.00 pm the Kalamata (who really got this name only after Clara became part of my life, and so did her obsessions of naming precious things in our lives) and I were driving the freeways of Miami. Since then we have crossed the US from one end to the other, driven the roads of California, been in the snow... you name it!

I will miss him dearly, and so will Matilda (remember her, the sheep that travels with him). She is looking for a new place (more on that in the coming days). He is probably wondering the streets of Fresno with his cool new partner, a 16 year old girl that just got her license. I am sure he is still getting used to the new musical taste hitting his powerful speakers, and to the crowd of loud girls that don't stop wondering in this cute car.

As Clara and I delivered the car to the Buzz (the father of the owner to be), we could not stop ourselves from sharing some advice passed on to me by my grandfather... I had to be discrete, but I did let him know... 'You know, one of the best features of this car, is how softly the doors close', as I gently pushed the door and closed it. In a sign of gratitude the Kalamata smiled even more than he usually does and winked his left headlight at me.

Happy and safe travelings Kalamata! Clara, KC and I will always remember you!

Built for the snow...

This is the time of the year when I get all philosophical about the snow. Clara, KC and I are up in Mammoth. Mother nature has treat as well. I think today was the 7th day in a row with snow showers. In one word, it's been amazing! The key figure of this story though is 'the Kalamata', our black bug which has surprisingly exceeded any expectations on its snow performance. You will find a few images below of how mother nature is treating us up here in northern California and the Kalamata in action. More news to come soon...


Yeap! That's me... Recognize the shape?



You have no idea how much they had to dig to get to me today!

Living green in Uruguay!

As many of you might know by now, Clara, KC and I have decided to move to Uruguay. A big part of this choice relates to the vision of manifesting a life style, where we spend more quality time with Nature (KC has been a big proponent of this initiative - the leash and the restrictions to freely pursue squirrels have made him a firm believer of life in the fields).

So aligned with this intention, we have purchased a 6 hás (almost 15 acres) piece of land just outside (25 kms | 15.5 miles) Montevideo. For many of my friends who live in the city, this seems way too far... and for Uruguayan standards it certainly is. Right now, from the perspective of living in LA, it seems almost insignificant... we will have to see how it feels on daily basis.

In any case, the most important criteria to select the place, was too find a piece of land that had plenty of trees, and we did! We are so excited. It's not as easy as one would imagine. Most of what was available was 'pelado' (without trees). Either because it has been used for agricultural purposes or because people in need resort to selling the wood for profit (I already had some proponents!). Well, this place is awesome... no matter where you are all you see are trees. We have as explained by my friend Santiago (who makes a living cutting down forests and selling the wood), three types of eucalyptus and several fruit trees - a great start for our organic farming.

Talking about organic and this new lifestyle that we are envisioning... we found that the land is full of tics (garrapatas). It turns out that the wasy way out to get rid of them (the chemical bomb approach) it's not compliant with our plan to have an organic non pesticides farm... so given our limited knowledge (thus far) probably we will have a green farm and a chemical dog! :) We'll keep you posted on this adventure... we (including KC) remain committed to the green approach!

We intend to host in the beautiful place a sustainable green (perhaps off the grid?) home. Constructions is due to start sometime between March and April. Clara and my father will be leading the efforts. I'll keep you posted on the developments.

Below you can see an aerial view of the land! Keep you posted! Martin.

C'mon mom...

I continue to find inspiration within the small quarters of my home. A great photographer that I met not long ago, inspired when I realized that a high percentage of his portfolio images were taken either at home or with friends as his models. So there I went, and within the close space that surrounds the garage where we live in, KC is a predominant part of it.

Here he is waiting for Clara to finish her morning rituals to take him on his own and preferred rituals... or did you think that he likes to ohm more than he likes his morning walk?


C'mon mom... The meditation is the only thing between KC and his monring walk...

My America at home...

I came across this great idea, 'My America at Home', a nationwide photo project, September 17 to 23, 2007. For seven days, everyone in America is invited to join 100 of the nation's leading photojournalists to capture "the emotions of home." The goal of the project is to capture the extraordinary diversity that makes up American family life, representing a broad range of economic, geographic, racial, political, and socially diverse lifestyles.

There are several categories of what makes your home really 'home' and how your life is on a daily basis. So one of the images I submitted was this one...

Good morning... where is my walk? For the past few years we have tryed to adopt a 'slow movement' life style where our lives are not ruled by the alarm clock. But since we adopted KC, we have our new 'wet kiss' wake-up call every morning... right on time to start the day!



If you are interested in submitting images, you can check them at http://www.myamericaathome.com/. Hurry! It ends this week!

Take care! Martin.

My yogi dog chants om!

I had a hard time believing Clara when she told me that KC would chant om in the morning with her... after all, she is comming out of some ether meditative state, and just perhaps, she might be a little spacy. Yet, for several days, I would stand outside the room while she performed ther morning ritual, just to double check... until I did hear it. After this great relaization, our morning meditation has been reducing to recording sessions and the hopes that the dog will continue to chant! :)

Here is a brief recording where you'll hear KC chant, and take his yoga skills well beyond a beautiful down dog! Perhaps every dog does this, and we just do not know it, but as proud parents we just need to brag a little bit!



Clara and Martin.

The power of completion...

It's crazy to realize that the last time I posted in this blog, was over a year ago... And I cannot really blame it on lack of time.

Today I processed the 1233 images I took on my long trip to Brazil during may of last year. I am not the type that tends to procrastinate. On the contrary, I usually have to slow my self down to not fall naturally in the overdoer mode. Yet, for waht ever the reason (which I will not speculate today), I had not had the energy to deal with these images.

Today, and after several afternoons of work, I have reviewed, discarted, processed and clasified all the images. Beyond anything else, the highlight is the amount of availabel energy that I have now. It's like the relationship with my photography has resurrected, and all of a sudden I am full of energy again.

Another reference point of the power of completion! :)

Stay around... I am updating lots of work on the comming 2 weeks and re-launching the site with some new funtionality that has just been uploaded. Have you checked the postcards? They are very cool! Soon you'll have some of my best work to share with friends and loved ones.

What’s a Powder Days Worth? Mammoth Mountain, California [Jan 19th, 2006].

Today was one of the most magical snow days in my years of boarding. As I was going up the lift at 8.30am – when the mountain actually opened – at about 20F (-7 Celsius) I wondered how many of my friends that do not regularly come to the snow, would understand what a day like this is really worth.

First of all you must understand that a day like this, ‘a blue sky powder day’, it’s a rare occasion; even more if you consider that this is one took place mid-week, when a lot less people is in the mountain (you will understand later why this is so important).

On Tuesday evening it started to snow right after lunch. The wind picked up and visibility dropped. Everything (for a change) was according to the weather forecast. A winter storm advisory was issued for later Tuesday afternoon. Through the night and most of the day Wednesday the wind gusted ferociously and the snow fell incessantly. It’s a beautiful picture… the trees full of white snow flakes covering the leaves, the sound of the wind only interrupted by the chains when the snow removal tractor comes to take out the snow that otherwise would prevent us from moving the car. In all honesty we had no plans of leaving the house. We are well prepared. Good healthy food (obviously – Clara is in charge of the groceries for the snow), a video, the wood fire burning and cracking, and as if this was not enough, the Australian Tennis Open on TV. You get the picture! It’s a fantastic day only disturbed by brief yet frequent rushes of anxiety - the thoughts of the snow coming to interrupt my photography studies.

Before going to bed we make the important agreement of the wake-up time. Our morning ritual somehow has gone from 2 to 3 hours, the minimum required before we can actually leave the house. You know… the typical things; yoga, meditation, breakfast and the ritual of getting dressed for the snow that is a process in itself. Given my strong requirements – only as strict on powder days – we need to be there before the lift opens. This means that tomorrow we will wake-up at 5.30am. The night is mainly pleasant, only altered by a somewhat brief occurrence of insomnia at 3.00am due to the excitement of the day to come.

At 6.00 I call the Snow Report line and everything is as expected; over 18 inches (70 cms) of fresh powder, blue skies and no wind. I mean… what else I can ask for. Diligently we undertake the morning ritual to ensure we make it on time to the lift opening. I run through the parking lot and when I am finally out and ready, of course there is a line on chair 8. Somehow there seems to be always, someone even more anxious than me. As I go up the mountain the view is fantastic. ; fresh powder sitting on the mountain like a white cake cover, perfect, smooth and untouched.

The few minutes that it takes to get to the top of chair 8 feel endless. In the distance I begin to see people making tracks in the fresh powder. The guys in front of me yells (half serious half jokingly) ‘Dude… get out of my powder’. Even though I do not share the approach, I do feel his pain. See, this is what powder is all about. It’s all about the ‘freshies’. It’s guaranteed that at some point while waiting in the lift you will overhear this conversation between two ‘dudes’ dressed in oversized boarding clothes… ‘man… did you catch some freshies coming down 22?’

I finally get off, but this is only a transition lift. I have carefully planned the first runs of the day, to ensure I can maximize the freshies. I’ve taken into consideration the snow fall, the direction of the wind (since it will wipe some areas of the mountain while filling others) and carefully chosen the lifts that I expect will have less people due to difficulty in access. Yet, this is a challenging task. The many years of strategic planning do not prepare you well enough for this situation, because you also have to add the variable of the time each lift will open. Some take longer since snow patrol is dynamiting the mountains to prevent avalanches. Nothing can be worst that riding to your carefully selected lift to find out that it will be closed for another hour, while feeling in your heart how the rest of the fresh powder is eaten away by hungry and passionate boarders and skiers.

I am finally at the base of 22, which is the first destination of the day. This will open the right side of the mountain to me, providing incredible elevation and steep rides to fully enjoy the powder. As the operator opens the lift the mood changes. The relaxed ‘dude’ talks all fade away as there is only one thing in mind now: to keep your spot in the line and go up first. Much like the start of a car race, when you hear the motors roar, you can hear the boards and skies moving forward and squeezing the powder, creating a sound similar to the one made by the ropes of a boat that is docked.

The feeling of riding powder is hard to describe. It’s similar to sliding effortlessly over shaving cream. The background is the almost unreal silence and beauty of the mountains in high and remote elevations. On top, is the faint sound of the board gracefully cutting through the powder and the involuntary screams produced from the unlimited pleasure and excitement that comes from this experience. I used to think that it was only me that experienced this necessity to scream while going down the mountain, but a brief talk with a few boarders on the lift reveals that it’s a common need, only natural due to the rare circumstances.

This is the beginning of a fantastic day; a day with mixed feelings. You know that a short while from now not much will be left to ride – everything will be tracked down. Finding freshies becomes more like a hunt through the trees in not so frequently used lifts. But it’s all worth it. Every minute, all the anxiety it’s worth it… just for the few rides that I get to make my own tracks over the fresh white blanket that the mountain has provided.

As if the day could get any better, I get back to the lodge to find that Clara has loved the powder. Getting her to board has been an ongoing balancing act of dealing with my expectations. Needless to say the idea of riding together crosses my mind often, but I know better than to expect anything… it prevents disillusion! At least for today it has been great. She loved it and she is making carefully crafted turns at unforeseen speeds as she goes down the hill… What else can I ask for? I really feel really privileged to be living the life I am living. I am extremely grateful!
Until the next adventure! Take care. Martin.

India... an experience I can only begin to grasp.

India... an experience I can only begin to grasp.
We are now in Rishikesh. Nepal was an awesome experience. We just loved it. The people, the mountains and everything that took place was graceful and filled with blessings. India... I would say it's been a fascinating experience for many other reasons quite different from Nepal. Nothing in this part of the trip would in any way ressemble a vacation, but rather an intense, at times ardous and at others flowing journey.
Our first stop was in Varanasi, perhaps not the best way to get to know India, but certainly and interesting one. By 'mistake' (to be generous with the use of the words) I put tea tree in my eye, instead of my usual - and more pleasing I have to say - eye lubricating drops. To my deffense, this was at three in the morning, without light and I was very, very tired. In any case, this put my eye out of service for an entire day, when I was able to open it again, and more importantly the courage to look into the city again. In perspective I would say it was a great way to take time for myself, spend a day in bed listening to music and looking inwardly.
After that we visited Kajuraho, Orchah and after a night in the Delhi train station (a whole experience in itself), we are finally in the north. I like Rishikesh much better than any other place. Perhaps this is a result of many dissapoinments before, whenever I expected to find a more tranquile and specially silent city, only to arrive to endless horns, street chaos and brutal harassment of the rickshawas and whallas.
Here I have managed to seclude myself in a safe, but much more importantly, silent place. I had not noticed up to now in my life how much the constant noise puts me off-balance. As well - I have to admit - that finding a restaurant that offers meals that appeal to my taste, specially raw salads that I dare to eat, has made a significant impact in my appreciation of this area. After this we are going to Delhi and back to LA.
During the lenghy night in the New Delhi train station, we managed to hang in there beyond the inherit intensity of the whole experience. Late at night, there were areas were walking was impossible due to the bodies lying around, and the constat pursuit of people offering to help, and my mind wondering how each wanted to screw me off. This has been for me a sad realization of India. I fear and dread the people that approach me due to my inability to discern good from bad, thus leaving shielded as well from those probably few souls that indeed have good intentions... but how to know?
After 7 hours there, when we finally boarded our train (for which we decided to pay premium and travel in the comfort of first class with AC), as we got to our seat and turned around to load the backpacks in the top luggage rails, in what could have been no more than 5 secods, someone stole my camera, and with it all the graphic memories from India. I ran outside up and down the platform like crazy, but of course found no one that had my camera bag in sight.
I knew before comming that this would be a significant trip for me, and indeed has been in many ways. When I leave this place, I am taking with me the the growth of having become a better photographer. The work I've done here was the best I ever done. I was able to get close to people, to become intimate with them, and how their lives make me feel. I searched and found the light that gave this photos the right colors, the tones and spoke ofthe lives that people in here have to endure with, of their days and carefully noted everything in my trave notebook - which is also gone together with the camera. But after moarning the loss, I am at peace with the fact and the clear intention that this is only the beggining of my work of telling stories through the lens of a camera. Of shedding light and hopefully, in some way contrinuting to a world of greater awareness.
I also leave with the clear reference point that I am at a place in my life, where no matter the experience that is brought forward (and God please be clear that I am not asking for more than anything that is really necessary), I have been able to maintain my peace of mind, as well as connect to my feelings and embrace them (this are perhaps not as well as the balance) ;) I also leave India refreshed and joyful for the realtionship I have with Clara, for how we support each other and grow together. This, and my life in general is a true blessing.
Clara and I talk frequently about how to write about India; about how to make a fair representation of what this experience is all about. At times the difficult things seem many and overwhelming, and yet the posite even though subtle, are profound and longlasting. I hope that by no means my writing throughs anyone off from gifting themselves with a whole new reference point in their lives. Be clear. This is a great trip, a wonderful opportunity, an experience that will forever be with me, and that will change me in ways I can only begin to imagine.
Namaste... Martin.

News from India - Clara and Martin - Oct 24th, 2005

Cosmic Flight to India. We got to India, flying from Katmandhu to Varanasi by Cosmic Air. We thought the name was very funny when we first saw it, and I even took a picture of a sign. Now after 2 weeks in this part of the world this seems very trivial. The flight attendants were wearing saris, but again, what could I expect? I am in India! Varanasi traffic: the order in the chaos. Varanasi has 3 million habitants and not a single traffic light. There's a variety of "vehicles" that I've never seen before: cows, goats, bull carts, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, bicycles, taxis, trucks, buses, of all ages and sizes and in various conditions share the narrow roads in a clear display that God exists and spends considerable time preventing accidents in this part of the world. If you have a honk, horn it, if you have a bell, ring it, if you have nothing, it's ok to just whistle. But make sure you do it continuously, maybe just stopping when your hands are busy changing gears. It would not surprise me if they modified cars so that the horns would go off all the time by default, and would only stop at the press of a button. The Ganges. Today is our third day in Varanasi. It's been a long day, we woke up at 3AM with our yogi neighbours ringing bells and blowing on shells. We then went for a sunrise boat ride in the Ganges river, to see the people performing their pujas (ceremonies). The ganges is like a big karma cleaning bureau with many alternatives for sinners and saints: offerings of sweets, candles, bathing, meditation and so on. Cleanliness is very important for hindus and everywhere you would see them thouroughly scrubbing their bodies, covered with foam like a soap commercial. They brushed their teeth with fingers and a black powder, or with a piece of wood that they buy fresh everyday. To my mind this seemed so contradictory, considering that the ganges is water is extremelly poluted and contaminated, but I guess this is India, full of contradictions and with people doing the best they can with the resources they have. We also saw people taking laundry to the river, they pile stones like a trampolin and they thrash clothes violently against it. Secure your zipers and buttons. As this must be the clothes version of purification, it's predictable that they will let go of their attachments. Trapped in Silk. Our "taxi driver-guide-tout-professional hawker and I can fix it all Mam and Sir" guy took us to see the silk area, where the muslims work on weavers factories. We thought why not, good to see and photoghraph. He casually said that few tourists had the priviledge to go directly to the manufactures, and therefore were lured into much higher prices. At that point, we fools, were not aware that this wasn't really a tour, but a long process to get us into buying even if we were not planning to. We left with 4 scarves and 1 sari. I am still trying to figure out how to wear the sari. India without anestesy. I come from a third world country, and I thought I had seen poverty and lack of basic sanitary conditions. I was wrong. India takes things to a different level and there's no good or bad neighbourhood. Even if you're in a 5 star hotel (which we are not, but let's just play along), as soon as you step out, reality grabs you, assuming a multitude of forms - a family of pigs eating from the garbage dump right next to you, beggars defying your theories, and kids going to the bathroom in the middle of the street. Travelling with a 12 kg backpack, with no schedule or reservations, and on the budget side of the road gives you a much closer contact with reality. Sometimes too close. Without the touristic shield, the air conditioned bus taking you to places, the high end hotels and the reception at the airport, you are left with predatory rickshaws, squat toilets, and spartan, hopefully clean accomodations. But there are many things that compensate, and soon enough we are laughing about them. I am even getting used to crawling things. We get used to never finding toilet paper anywhere, to the places that say they have hot water but they never do, to the hair in the food (what the heck it could be ours!), to the crazy driving. And we are rewarded with the smiles of people, their happiness when we take their pictures, their wonder at our watches, the color of the saris, the flavours of the food. Ok, there's a japanese tourist with a dress and western boots in the 35o heat waiting for the computer. I'd better go. Love you all,
Clara and Martin