The 7 Wonder Whys....

Kathmandu (Nepal)

Delhi (India)

Beijing (China)

Luang Prabang (Laos)

Vientiane

As you may or may not know, UNESO unveiled last year around this time the seven OFFICIAL wonders of the world. I know you might be thinking: 'Weren't those already established?!' Sort of. Before, it was small mayhem where everyone seemed to have their own list. If you did a Google search for the seven wonders you would get everything from Stonehenge to the Pyramids and the Eiffel Tower to Pamela Anderson's bra. So, to clear up the confusion, UNESCO set out a world wide poll with 21 places in the running (check out http://www.new7wonders.com/classic/en/n7w/results/ for a complete list.)

Recently, Andrew and I visitedt he last of the official seven.

Now, I do not have a problem with the seven that they chose, what cooks my beef are their names. Yes, what it was exactly that we decided to call them.

For example, take the Great Pyramids (which was in the running but apparently isn't wonderful enough for the final list). So, in Kindergarden we learn our shapes and in grade one we learn our adjectives. In other words, a six year old could have named these things. Don't get me wrong, I've seen them and they are pretty great, but is it really the best title they could come up with for ancient tombs for god-kings hidden deep in the desert that are symbolical, practical, mysterious and took dozens of years and thousands of workers to complete; inspiring people around the world for hundreds of years?

They just state the obvious geomertrical shape and then put the word 'great' in front of it in hopes that the word alone will put it a cut above the rest of the worlds pyramids.

Negative seven point for the creativity there boys.

The pyramids weren't the only wonders that seemed to be lacking imagination when it came to their title. Lets go through the seven (we'll go in order that Andrew and I saw them) and rate the originality of each.

1. Chichen-Itza (Mexico) 2.5/5

You have to admit that this sounds like a pretty fitting name for a city that was lost in the jungle. A city built around a pool of water--more of a well really--that was essential to the life of the inhabitants. So why such a low rating? Taking it into context we have to travel back hundreds of years to when it was built. 'Itza' was the name of the local tribe that lived there. 'Chichen' in their language meant 'well.' So in english the place is called 'Well of the Itzas'

Be still my beating heart.

Basically it would be like calling Beijing 'Chinese Tap-Water' or Washington DC 'Yankee Burger.'

Anthony's re-name: 'Magnificredible Kingdom of Ancient Glory.'

2. Machu Picchu (Peru) 2/5

Again, pretty sweet for a forbidden dwelling built by the Incas, hidden high on top of an old mountain right? Like the Mayans though, the Incas must have wasted all their creativity on advanced building techniques, leaving their naming skills as dry as a crumbly pastry. Translation of Machu Picchu into english: 'Old Mountain.'

Whee.

Anthony's re-name: "Strategic Fortress of Ingenuity"

3.Christ Redeemer Statue (Brazil) 3/5

Really there is not much more you can name a massive statue of Jesus. However, like most Wonder-builders so far, out of all the names given to the Saviour, they really must have picked the least original.

Anthony's re-name: 'Adonai'

4. Colosseum (Italy) 4/5

Leave it to the Romans to have a bit of class. The Colosseum in Rome was built to hold a wealth of incredible events from gladiator matches to animal shows and was designed with all sorts of trapdoors and secret passage ways. Everything needed for the ultimate game experiance. The Romans changed the name in the 1800's from 'The Theatre' to 'Colosseum' to reflect both the colossal size of the events held there and the sheer mass of people this stadium could hold. Give to Ceasar what belongs to Ceasar: kudos. Stadiums back home should take notes.

Anthony's re-name: 'Awesome Colossum'

5. Petra (Jordan) 3/5

The word 'Petra' itself almost conjures up images of an old rugged civilization straight out on an Indiana Jones movie, which ironically, this one is. In 'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade' it is used as the location for the resting place of the Holy Grail. What better location than an entire city carved out of rock? Alas, it is the translation again that lets us down for this, my personal favorite of the Seven Wonders. Petra in the ancient dialect meant 'The Rock.' Isn't that already taken by a Sean Connery movie? For the movie it's a great name! It's used to describe Alcatraz, a supposedly inescapable prison built on an island off the coast of San Fransisco. But using 'The Rock' to describe....well.....rock, is painfully less imaginative.

Anthony's re-name: 'Whoooooaaaaa.....' ( Which is what everybody says when they make it through the canyon and catch their first glimpse of the Treasury).

6. The Taj Mahal (India) 4.5/5

When the emperors wife whom he loved dearly passed away giving birth to their 14th child, he swore he would build the most beautiful resting place for her, unmatched by any other structure. What did he call this beauty upon completion? The Taj Mahal. Or 'Crown Palace.' Not bad for a graveyard.... with one person. I think that the name of this mausoleum is as pretty as the place itself and as romantic as the story behind it.

Anthony's re-name: 'Aladdin's Crib.'

7. The Great Wall. (China) 1/5

We've been through this. Putting the word 'great' in front of something generic is as creative as a glass of water. I can only think that such a boring name came from a boring leader. Imagine the Chinese Emperor sitting in his courtyard, surrounded by subject drinking green tea when the highest ranking general enters,

General: "Your majesty, we have just completed the largest defense system ever known in history, a true testament to ingenuity and strength. What would your eminence like to call it?"

The emperor stirs his tea and thinks.

Emperor: "The Waaaaall."

Silence.

People exchange unimpressed glances. The right hand man clears his throat loudly.

Emperor: " The GREAT wall!!"

The room cheers and everyone plots silently ways to assassinate their uncreative leader.

Anthony's Re-name: 'The Chinese Indestructable Fortress Of Power"

So, there are the Seven Wonders of the World and their relatively lame names. The truth however is of course that the covers never do justice to the book itself. These ARE all wonders of the world, and deservedly so. The places themselves are mind-blowing, beautiful and inspiring. I've been inspired so much that when I get home I'm renaming my place 'Anthony's Great Apartment.' I'm hoping to cash in on a few of these tourist dollars. If it worked for a wall and some pyramids, the word 'great' must have a draw. I'll be charging admission to see my vast collection of mismatched socks and belly button lint. Come now before the crowds show up in high season.

Keep Smiling!

Anthony

Crash Course in Reality

Igatpuri
Mumbai
Delhi
Calcutta
Delhi
Kathmandu (Nepal)
Whew!

On the last day of our meditation course, we opened our eyes feeling refreshed and enlightened (Anthony only opened his after being pushed. He was concentrating so deeply he was snoring). Fresh from the meditation course, our plan was to skip up to Delhi and dance over to apply for new passports, then traipse off to spend a few weeks doing dandy volunteer work and feeling good about ourselves in Calcutta, afterward whisking back to Delhi to pick up our passports and Chinese visa, with plenty of time afterward for a leisurely trip to Nepal, with a stop at the Taj Mahal thrown in. All of this we optimistically expected to fit into a month.

If we'd known how ambitious this project was, we might have stayed in Africa. With the effort we spent, we could have done some real good for the African people - it'd be easier to go head-to-head with a lion than haggle with some of the auto-rickshaw drivers we met, and Indian bureaucracy would make even President Mugabe shudder. But, at one with nature, feeling nothing but peace and love for our fellow beings, we were ready to take on the world.

The world, maybe. India? No.

All told, we spent two full months in India. It's a testament to the meditation course that we made it out with shreds of our sanity, and to the Missionaries of Charity that we still hold goodwill for humanity. It's no wonder the place has turned out it's share of saintly people - if you can live a day in those crooked streets and love the last person you see the same as the first, God must have a good grip on you. The place is not like 'the world.'

The world is a place where there are traffic rules and plumbing, where people stand in line to get tickets for the train; a place where you meet people who are a little bit good, or a little bit bad, where dogs bark and cats sing... India is none of these things. Or rather, it is all of these things, but in a completely upside-down stretched out sort of way. It's like the world reflected on a spoon: everything is either absolutely huge and overpowering, or small and squished and meant to be much bigger. For example:

There are traffic rules: small cars and motorbikes fit into the spaces between trucks, and you must be sure to follow the signs that say "BLOW HORN" and "KEEP DISTANCE" painted on nearly every vehicle; and if you can't keep distance (which you can't), you must blow your horn much louder and more excitedly to compensate.
There is plumbing: and if you can't find running water IN your home, you'll be sure to find it in the gutter BESIDE your home. Actually, gutter water seems preferable to home plumbing anyways. In India, bathing - not to mention drinking, urinating, washing clothes, pots and pans, and street cleaning - is a team sport. Extra points for the group who can do all of them at once in the same gush of water.
People stand in lines at the ticket counter: but the line is just as likely to spread out the length of the counter as it is to curl backwards on itself and swallow the man in the middle. It is most certainly a man there, and he is most likely to have sharp elbows - so even if he gets swallowed, the line will digest him, and he'll somehow end up in the front.

We were lucky to make it out alive. Somehow, though, despite the mess that it is, I think India has been my favourite stop on this trip. I've tried to describe why a number of times, but have yet to be successful. As my final attempt, I offer this hodgepodge of anecdotes, and if you manage to connect them, maybe you'll see what I mean.

The land of smells: As you walk down the street in any city, you'll catch the sudden and powerful mouth-watering smell of something absolutely fantastic; food, incense, perfume... but before you can think, you'll be three steps ahead and abruptly the magnificent smell is replaced by feces or vomit or garbage. Don't worry, though - something else will assault you in the next five steps so that you won't remember the first two!

The International Youth Hostel: One good example of Indian bureaucracy at its worst. The youth hostel was our first stop in Delhi after finishing the meditation course, so our entrance saw us greeting each other amiably and smiling; our exit, however, saw us at a run, 'escorted' by security. At any given time, there were three to five people behind the reception desk; but it took and incomprehensible amount of time to accomplish anything, and most things didn't get accomplished at all. Two hours to sign in and be assigned a room, two more to ask about making a phone call - only to find out the phone doesn't work. There was always a line, and the simplest question from each person quickly became an issue to be resolved by the manager - who was never available. The favourite line spoken was "Wait please - Can you wait?" We made the mistake of depositing our luggage in a storage room the day we checked out, and we had to commit the inconceivable sin of going behind the desk and retrieving the key ourselves in order to make our train on time. GAAA!

Dal, Curry, Butter Masala, Tamil Food: If you've tried any of them, you know what I mean. If not... you can't possibly know. Sorry.

Nirmal Hriday, the Missionaries of Charity home for the destitute buried deep inside Calcutta: In that home, the language barrier prevented us from talking to most people, but that wouldn't stop one man. He spoke incessantly, whether you understood or spoke back, or not. In fact, if you didn't understand, he would only speak more quickly and louder before giving you a disdainful look and turning away, only to turn back and ask another question. If he wasn't talking, it was because one of the sisters had told him to be quiet... or because he was singing. He loved to sing, and his voice would fill the ward when he did. Once, Anthony asked him to sing, and after a look that said "Hmph. If my public so requests," he let loose with more passion and conviction than Pavarotti. I was often tending the man on the bed beside the singer, and he was not moved at all by the music. I suppose it would be annoying if you had to live with it daily... but still, it was a sad day when the singing man left.

As you can see, there is absolutely no pattern to the stories; only a bunch of pictures that become the schmoz of awesome that is India...

But one day, I came across one image that, in my mind,describes our experience in India perfectly:
There is a woman. She is beautiful, with shining eyes, bronze-brown skin, and charcoal hair. She is wearing a red or purple sari, with gold earrings, nose ring, and bindi. She carries a young child and smiles.
Then she turns and spits a stream of vile brown into the gutter beside a man squatting a number two.

India: You will love it. You will hate it. You will embrace it like a lover then fight it (with teeth and rage) over your last pocketful of rupees. You'll feel every emotion you have a vocabulary for - more powerfully than you ever have before - except for one. You will never be indifferent.

Meditation For Dummies.

Livingstone (Zambia)
Lusaka
New Delhi (India)
Mumbai
Igatpuri


Never in a million years did I think I would ever find myself sitting cross-legged on a pillow in a Buddhist pagoda, high in the mountains at 4:30 AM meditating. Et voila.
See, one day once upon a time on this boat in the Amazon my brother met some girl from France who knew someone whose father's uncle's chiropractor's daughter did this course somewhere in India and is now apparently perfectly harmonious.
So, here I am. Trying to achieve inner peace... with a mosquito doing irritating revolutions around my head.
Rule #17 of the meditation course: "Do not kill any beings." Even mosquitoes.
The only thing I'm getting out of this so far is that I know to never let Andrew talk to girls on boats ever again. In fact when we get back, I'm sending him to a boat-less seminary. Or, maybe I could just leave him here, I'm sure the Buddhists could find room....

The ten-day Vipassana course is designed to help you look at your deep rooted desires through meditation and uproot them. They believe that craving is the source of misery. For the entire ten days you are not allowed to talk (no voicing, gestures, eye contact, SMS, morse code, pigeon messengers, e-mail or telepathy). They also ask you to turn in your cameras, mobile phones, books, writing materials and even your mp3 players (I really don't know just HOW they intend on achieving peace without a little daily Jack Johnson...."Oh, can't you see that it's just raaaiiining, there ain't no need to go outside...." *sigh* Man, I feel peaceful just writing that...)
Needless to say the course demanded a little will-power. Not so much the 'I'm going to stick to my diet today' will power..., I'm talking 'Braveheart' meets 'Passion of the Christ' reckless unrelenting drive. (Whoa, two Mel Gibson flicks... that guy must have been to one of these courses!)
The daily schedule was as follows:

4:00 am		Morning wake-up bell
4:30-6:30 am		Meditate in the hall or in your room
6:30-8:00 am		Breakfast break
8:00-9:00 am		Group meditation in the hall
9:00-11:00 am		Meditate in the hall or in your room according to the teacher's instructions
11:00-12:00 noon		Lunch break
12noon-1:00 pm		Rest and interviews with the teacher
1:00-2:30 pm		Meditate in the hall or in your room
2:30-3:30 pm		Group meditation in the hall
3:30-5:00 pm		Meditate in the hall or in your own room according to the teacher's instructions
5:00-6:00 pm		Tea break
6:00-7:00 pm		Group meditation in the hall
7:00-8:15 pm		Teacher's Discourse in the hall
8:15-9:00 pm		Group meditation in the hall
9:00-9:30 pm		Question time in the hall
9:30 pm		Retire to your own room--Lights out

My personal schedule sort of went more as follows:

4:00 am - Wake up bell. I realize that even the sun is still asleep and consider shooting the bell-man. Decide that it would be very un-Buddhist.

4:30-6:00 am - Meditation--In the form of dreams. After I fell back asleep.

6:00 am - Wake up, meditate on the meaning of my dreams. Specifically why I keep showing up as a Care-Bear.

6:30 - 8:00 am - Line up for gruel. Eat gruel. Try not to crave three strips of bacon with scrambled eggs and freshly squeezed orange juice - because cravings are the source of all unhappiness.

8:00 - 9:00 am - Meditate on orange juice.

9:00 - 10:00 am - Listen to the teachers instructions. Along with his chanting.

10:00 - 11:00 am - Meditate on whether the chanting is really necessary. Especially from a teacher who sounds like Darth Vader after swallowing a dying frog with Tuberculosis.

11:00 - 12:00 am - Line up for gruel. Eat gruel. Contemplate that scene from 'The Matrix' where they all have a plate full of human boogers and compare them to 'tasty wheat'.... I realize that I would have betrayed them all too to get back to the matrix.... (hey, I never said I was the hero in this story...)

12:00 - 1:00 pm - Interview with the teacher. I ask him why he wears a black mask and hates the Rebel Alliance.

1:00 pm - Meditate in hall.

1:04 pm - Anthony gets tired of meditating. Starts to contemplate life: 'If caterpillars turn into beautiful butterflies, what do poo-eating earth worms turn into......?
Pigeons.
(Which, by the way, are following me around the world! They just seem to be everywhere!! They also happen to be the one animal I despise. Tricky little vermins. They scare the crap out of me!! Then proceed to consume the crap I have provided! THAT'S why they are following me! It's a disastrous cycle.
In Egypt pigeon in a common item on the menu in most restaurants. Andrew got one while we were there and I giggled throughout the whole meal...'one more down baby,....one more down!')

2:30 - 3:30 pm - During this hour we were to keep our eyes closed, sit up straight and not move for the entire 60 minutes. I started to call it the 'Hour of Power.' After about 45 minutes in, it feels like you're laying on a bed of nails, that also happens to be on fire.

3:30 - 5:00 pm - The Hour of Power usually drained me mentally and physically, so I spent this time translating popular rap songs into French.
Eminem - "Fesse comme ça!"
50 Cent - "Magasin de bonbons!"
Rihanna - "Parapluie"
Snoop Dog - "Comme C'est Chaud!"
JT & 50 Cent - "Et oh! Technologie!"

5:00 - 6:00 pm - Indian Chai and bananas. The best part of Anthony's day. Good thing nobody can talk to him on this break, because he wouldn't listen anyways. He's lost in a world with caramel waterfalls, dancing lollipops and Beach Boys vinyl. This is heaven for him. (Why am I talking about myself in third person?!? And who are the other two people before the third person? I've heard of 'first person,' but who in heaven's name is 'second person?' This is so stupid...) REALLY good chai.

6:00 pm - Meditation in hall.

6:07 pm - Once again my thoughts flutter to which Disney character would win in an all-out fight and should rule Disneyland. Who would win between Aladdin and Tarzan? I got completely stuck when I tried to put Peter Pan up against Mulan. I mean, Mulan is pretty tough, plus she's got bonus Asian points. Peter Pan however, has pixie dust and levitation. Tough call. I think Peter's immaturity might be his downfall and the Chinese army will march through Neverland.

7:00 - 8:15 pm - Story time with the teacher. 'A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...'

8:15 - 9:00 pm - Group meditation. (My conscience got the better of me and I participated.)

9:00 - 9:30 pm - Question time with the instructors. My teacher doesn't think that Peter Pan and Mulan is 'relevant.'

9:30 pm - Set booby trap for morning bellman and fall asleep in 2.00875 seconds. Meditation is hard work.

There ya have it, my experience was something between George Orwell's '1984' and Brad Pitt's 'Seven Years In Tibet.' Both of which not only create something crazy and make it extremely well, but are also quite insightful. The course was hard, but everything difficult usually comes with its share of rewards.
Even though around the seventh day I was seriously debating giving up my moral upbringing for some Tropicana.
I'll also never forget the day that during the Hour of Power we were all on our cushions, eyes closed in the hall, birds chirping outside... Then in the nearby town comes the long, loud drone of an air-raid siren! My only experience with these so far is in the movies. They always sound when something really bad is about to happen. I stayed seated with my eyes closed as I was supposed to, expecting the teacher to tell us to run for cover soon.... Nope.
Nothing.
The siren grew louder and I realized that maintaining a 'peaceful state of mind' was out of the question. Was nobody else hearing this?! I began to sweat. The anticipation strangling me. At the end of my wit--I broke the rules and opened one eye to peek around the room. It was a perfect picture of serenity. All the students sitting on the floor with perfect posture, eyes closed and peaceful. The sun was pouring in through the window.
What do I do?!?! Sit it out like them?! Do they know something I don't? Or do I follow my gut instinct and run out of the pagoda screaming, "The British are coming! The British are coming!!"

I sat.

It was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. I had won the victory over myself. I loved Big Brother.

Keep Smiling!
Anthony

There will not be a Hindi lesson today. If you crave one, you are miserable.