Nepal!!

I found out yesterday that I received the grant I had applied for to travel to Nepal and do a short documentary this summer. They are fully funding it ($4800)!!

I will be working alongside a Wake Forest Anthropology professor and his research team. He's been studying the Dalits of Nepal for 30+ years and will be there to help every step of the way. We will start in the city capital Kathmandu.

Kathmandu, Nepal

Shortly after we will travel to a small city surrounded by villages in Besisahar. This is area is very near  Annapurna, where trekkers come from all over the world to hike the Himalayas. 

Besisahar

Besisahar

I will be in Besisahar for 4-5 weeks filming with the Dalits in the surrounding the villages. Nepal, like India, is still a country divided by a caste system. The Dalits are the lowest caste. The "untouchables". The film will explore how and why they are beginning to challenge the caste system through various methods, including converting to Christianity (after all, Christianity has no caste system). I will go to church with them, visit them in their homes, spend time with their children working in the rice fields, etc. Added bonus: at the end of the trip, I will be able to attend a traditional Buddhist wedding with Dr. Folmar in Kathmandu!

I'm nervous, excited, thrilled, and still in shock that I have been given such an amazing opportunity. 

Day 11: The Grand Bazaar & Couchsurfing with artists, Part 1

The day started on a sad note. We didn't want to leave Figen's. Together we prepare breakfast and coffee and eat together one last time on her plant-covered balcony overlooking the Bosphorus and what seems like all of Istanbul. There wasn't much talking - just a silent gratitude and appreciation for having walked into each other's lives. We hug and hold back tears, thanking her for being her wonderful self. With a heavy heart, we walk down the street one last time to catch the dolmus to Kadikoy. 

Once in Kadikoy we catch a taksi (Turkish spelling) and give the driver Hande & Arda's address. The driver begins the journey up the steep streets into Moda, but we soon realize that he doesn't actually know how to get to their specific address. He stops a few times and asks fellow cab drivers and such. Eventually we make it (though we later learn, I believe Arda informs us, that taksi drivers in Istanbul are notorious for not knowing how to get anywhere - even the LOCALS don't know how to get around, how the heck are we supposed to then? This makes me feel a lot better about naming Turkey as one of THE most difficult countries to travel. EVER.)

Moda is the "artsy" area of Istanbul, where all the creative folk live. Supposedly. It is also on the Asian side of the Bosphorus. It has a couple streets with adorable restaurants and cafes and then most of the rest of Moda is small streets lined with apartment buildings. It would be a lovely place to live. Arda buzzes us into their building and we walk down some winding stairs, which are daring me not to fall, and he opens their door at the bottom. He kindly welcomes us into their inviting home, its walls covered with art of their own and of their friends. We put our things down in the living room, where we will be staying, and then he shows us Hande's sculpture studio and his office along with some of their artwork. These are serious working artists, living, and thriving I might add, off their passions. Jealous.

Christine and I had planned on heading to the Grand Bazaar today, and eating a piece of chocolate cake we had gotten after dinner on our first night at Figen's and hadn't eaten yet. Big plans. Cake plans. So, we awkwardly left soon after arrival for the day's excursion. I had never couchsurfed and Christine had done it only once. It's much different than other lodging. People let you stay for free in their home because they love meeting and spending time with new people. It is probably very odd, perhaps rude, for us to arrive and leave soon after to explore on our own. We do promise, however, to return for dinner. 

We walk down along the Bosphorus, a beautiful view, and find a bench to eat our cake. It is delicious, obviously. It is all chocolate. Christine and I talk about how we will have to change our day-to-day plans to ensure that we couchsurf properly and balance our time spent sight-seeing with time spent with Hande & Arda. If for no other reason than as a thank you for a free place to stay. 

We continue our walk down to Kadikoy and catch a ferry over to Eminonu.  First thing we do is find the Spice Bazaar, by accident. It was one of those moments where you find yourself walking through something not knowing what it is until you are so entrenched in it that you realize you are in fact seeing something that was on your list of things to see. It smelled amazing. I can think of no way to describe it other than that it smells exactly like you think it would. Rich & sweet. Men and boys trying to get you to buy something each time you pass a new booth. Some people hate that experience. I find it fascinating. Perhaps because it is so foreign to me. They are so overtly throwing themselves, or their products, at you that it can't be anything but amusing. We continue through the winding streets toward the Grand Bazaar. We walk for what seems like miles and miles up steep hills with no such luck. The streets are lined with shops, but they're selling ordinary things like jeans and kitchen appliances. We get so tired that we begin to wonder if this is in fact the Grand Bazaar. We march on in denial and hopeful that these are just vendors that the locals buy from for everyday needs and/or are trying to catch those entering and exiting the Bazaar. 

Street near Eminonu as we begin are trek into Sultanhamet in search of the Grand Bazaar.

Teas in the Spice Bazaar

The good news is this is not the Grand Bazaar. The bad news is that the Grand Bazaar was a huge disappointment. I think the Medina in Morocco spoiled me. That was so earthy, raw, beautiful, & natural. Everything smelled like leather and the streets were made of dirt. There were no chain stores in the Medina. However, the Grand Bazaar seems to have succumb to commercialization. There are certainly some beautiful shops and works of craftsmanship, but it is also filled with local chains and the dealers are less friendly. The only cool part is that it is in an old building/mosque. Oh, and the prices are astronomical. Again, Morocco ruined it for me. I had been saving to buy all my gifts for people here because I was certain it was where the prices would be the lowest like in Rabat. Not even close. The only thing I purchase here are two lovely, ornate plates as wedding gifts to Sarah and Beth. 

Grand Bazaar

Grand Bazaar

It is a maze in the Bazaar to say the least and we get split up once. After we find each other and tire of the disappointment, we exit the Bazaar to find food. What do you know, we find a restaurant with the most delicious lentil soup and bread and the friendliest, most entertaining waiter we could ask for. Well played, Istanbul, well played. You never let us stay down for long. Our sweet waiter is most likely flirting with us, but his intentions are good. He  cannot for the life of him figure out where we are from. This is the only place I have been where people don't immediately guess America or Canada. He was guessing Brazil, Austraila...(and many other places that I cannot remember). We also meet two old women who are on a cruise and they stopped in port today in Istanbul. They wish us luck in our travels, as we do them and we leave the restaurant. This is where the day gets good.

Things to remember...

Advice to My Kids

By Leo Babauta

I have six lovely children — one of them now an adult, and a couple more almost there — and I give a lot of thought to what I think they should know as they grow up and go out into the world.

What could I best teach them to equip them for life?

This is what I’d like them to know:

You are good enough. Most people are afraid to do things because they are afraid they’re not good enough, afraid they’ll fail. But you are good enough — learn that and you won’t be afraid of new things, won’t be afraid to fail, won’t need the approval of others. You’ll be pre-approved — by yourself.

All you need to be happy is within you. Many people seek happiness in food, drugs, alcohol, shopping, partying, sex … because they’re seeking external happiness. They don’t realize the tools for happiness aren’t outside them. They’re right inside you: mindfulness, gratitude, compassion, thoughtfulness, the ability to create and do something meaningful, even in a small way.

You can start your own business. As a young man, I thought I needed to go to college and then be employed, and that owning a business is for rich people. That was all wrong. It’s possible for almost anyone to start their own business, and while you’ll probably do badly at first, you’ll learn quickly. It’s a much better education than college.

Everything useful I’ve learned I didn’t learn from college … I learned from doing.

That said, I’ve had some amazing teachers. They’re not always in school, though: they’re everywhere. A friend I met at work. My peers online. My mom, dad, siblings, grandparents, uncles and aunts. My wife. My kids. Failure. Teachers are everywhere, if you’re willing to learn.

Spend less than you earn. Thirty percent less if you can manage. Most people get a job and immediately spend their income on a car loan, high rent or a large mortgage, buying possessions and eating out using credit cards. None of that is necessary. Don’t spend it if you don’t have it. Learn to go without, and be happy with less.

Put away some of your income to grow with the power of compound earnings. Your future self will thank you.

Learn to love healthy food. It’s all a matter of adjusting your tastebuds, slowly and gradually. Learn to cook for yourself. Try some healthy, delicious recipes.

Learn compassion. We start life with a very selfish outlook — we want what we want. But compassion is about realizing we are no more important than everyone else, and we aren’t at the center of the universe. Someone annoys you? Get outside of your little shell, and try to see how their day is going. How can you help them be less angry, less in pain?

Never stop learning. If you just learn something a little a day, it will add up over time immensely.

Have fun being active. Sure, there’s lots of fun to be had online, and in eating sweets and fried food, and in watching TV and movies and playing video games. But going outside and playing with friends, tossing a ball around, swimming, climbing something, challenging each other … that’s even more fun. And it leads to a healthy life, healthy heart, more focused and energetic mind.

Get good at discomfort. Avoiding discomfort is very common, but a big mistake. Learning to be OK with some discomfort will change your life.

The things that stress you out don’t matter. Take a larger perspective: will this matter in five years? Most likely the answer is no. If the answer is yes, attend to it.

Savor life. Not just the usual pleasures, but everything and everyone. The stranger you meet on the bus. The sunshine that hits your face as you walk. The quiet of the morning. Time with a loved one. Time alone. Your breath as you meditate.

Meditate.

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. They are some of the best teachers. Instead, learn to be OK with mistakes, and learn to learn from them, and learn to shrug them off so they don’t affect your profound confidence in who you are.

You need no one else to make you happy or validate you. You don’t need a boss to tell you that you’re great at what you do. You don’t need a boyfriend/girlfriend to tell you that you’re lovable. You don’t need your friends’ approval. Having loved ones and friends in your life is amazing, but know who you are first.

Learn to be good at change. Change is the one constant in life. You will suffer by trying to hold onto things. Learn to let go (meditation helps with this skill), and learn to have a flexible mind. Don’t get stuck in what you’re comfortable with, don’t shut out what’s new and uncomfortable.

Open your heart. Life is amazing if you don’t shut it out. Other people are amazing. Open your heart, be willing to take the wounds that come with an open heart, and you will experience the best of life.

Let love be your rule. Success, selfishness, righteousness … these are not good rules to live by. Love family, friends, coworkers, strangers, your brothers and sisters in humanity. Love even those who think they’re your enemy. Love the animals we treat as food and objects. Most of all, love yourself.

And always know, no matter what: I love you with every particle of my being.

Dreams of Nepal

I just submitted a proposal for a $5000 grant to go to Nepal this summer and produce a short documentary on the Untouchable caste there, the Dalits. The Dalits are horribly impoverished and have no rights. A professor at Wake Forest has been studying them for over 30 years and has agreed for me to travel with him for 5 weeks this summer and help me to produce this film. The film would specifically be about how and why the Dalits have recently been challenging the caste system. They have been doing so in many ways, but the most interesting I think is by converting to Christianity. After all, there is no caste system in Christianity!

Fingers crossed! I find out in about a month.

Old Salem

My friend, Rhonda, and I went to Old Salem last weekend to practice shooting stills for interview set-ups. It was my first time ever really exploring Old Salem. I usually just go for the Saturday Farmer's Market (and I did shoot a wedding there in October). It was a photographer's dream. The light was gorgeous inside the old houses and shops, which were mostly naturally lit by the large windows. 

Istanbul From the Ferry

Blogger always makes videos look horrible! Working on this...

Day 10: A Hamam & A Harem, Part 2

We wander around for a while looking for the entrance to Topkapi Palace. Outside the grounds there was a beautiful park with people and children walking, grazing, & playing. The children seemed to recognize us as American because they kept saying "Hello!" and waving. We would say hello back and they would just giggle. It was adorable.

Rooftops along the walk to Topkapi

The path through the grounds/park outside Topkapi

Once we got in, we went straight for the Harem (which costs extra) because it is said to be the highlight of the old palace. The harem had more than 400 rooms and was where the sultan's mother and his wives and concubines lived. How the world has changed! It was beautiful!!  Horror vacui to the max! Tiled walls and floors, ornate and organic designs, beautiful horse-shoe arches. Everything that I love!

Exterior of the harem

The roses were beautiful!

Inside the harem

Can you believe that view?

Exterior of the harem from a distance

After a couple hours of exploring the grounds, we grew tired. Christine bought a map of the grounds, so we could see what all we had left to see, only to learn that we had seen everything. Ha. So, we walk back to Eminonu where we hop a ferry back to Kadikoy where we plan on meeting Figen, our host. We stop at an ATM in Kadikoy and a street boy comes up begging for me to buy a little pack of tissues from him. When I say no, he pretends to cry. I shooed him off and he smiled at me and ran away. The little devil.

Figen takes us to a little "fast food" restaurant where she insists we try Aryan (which is like a yogurt-milk drink) and Pecumseh (kind of like a thin folded pizza). Up to this point, we had seen everyone drinking Aryan, but didn't know what it was. It is definitely not for us. Figen says it's a favorite summer beverage. I'll pass on the thick milk during 90 degree weather.

Then we walk along the water, talking about this and that, learning more about Figen. A truly amazing, inspirational woman. So open and at peace with who she is and where she is in life. After we work up an appetite we grab dinner up in Moda (an artsy area of Istanbul, where we later couchsurf) at a restaurant called Cafe DoDo. I have some delicious vegetable dish covered with cheese. Then Figen suggest we get ice cream (gotta love this girl) at a nearby shop. The sun may have set, but Moda seems to just be coming alive. We continue to walk and talk as we wander back toward Figen's. Eventually we catch a dolmus and ride it back. 

A candid of Christine & I taken by Figen as we walk along the water.

A perfect end to a really great day. I knew Istanbul would steal my heart if I gave it another chance. This was just the beginning. There really is nothing like exploring a city with a local. And living with them is better. Figen was so kind to spend time with us, to share customs of her culture with us, and open up her heart and mind to us. I'm forever grateful. Tomorrow we part with her. 

The Truth About Couchsurfing

One day soon I will finish my Turkey posts. In the mean time, this woman and her husband travel the world together and she writes about it on a her blog. She recently wrote about couchsurfing and what she writes is so true. She really gets to the experience of the close friends you have upon entering their home for the very first time.

I have yet to write about our couchsurfing experience with Hande & Arda in Istanbul, but they had beautiful, open hearts. They treated us as if we had known them for years. I would couchsurf again without question.

Read the woman's post about couchsurfing here.

Day 10: A Hamam & A Harem, Part 1

Cinili Hamam

Today we wake up eager to start over with Istanbul. We wanted so badly to love it here, but our exhaustion and frustration got the better of us yesterday.  We wake, shower, and share coffee with Figen. She tells us to go to the Cinili Hamam, one that is nearby. She explains that it was once beautiful inside, with mosaics covering the walls, but it had been stripped of the tiles years ago. How awful! She calls us a cab, tells him where to take us, and we hop in.

He drops us off and we shyly approach the entry-way, having no idea what to expect. We find the women's entrance and gather the courage to enter. I am thrilled and excited to have a second chance at this experience (I passed it up in Morocco and regretted it), but I am still quite nervous. I have very little understanding as to how things will unfold and what little I do know is based off the stories of the girls who went to a hamam in Morocco. A Turkish hamam could be very different.

Exterior of Cinili Hamam 

We walk into a lobby-type area where 3 or 4 women are sitting around chatting. One who seems to be the owner/leader ushers us in and asks what we want (I think). We try to explain that we want a peel and massage. She gets the idea and pushes us into a dressing/undressing room and gives us towels. Weird thing: the changing room has a giant glass window into the lobby. Why bother sticking us in a room? Christine and I wore bathing suits, though most go nude or at least topless. We, of course had no such intention. We take off our clothes, wrap the towel around our bathing-suited bodies, and slip on some water proof sandals they left for us in the room (I don't even want to begin to think about how many people have shared these shoes).

The old lady then guides us through the maze of halls. The deeper we go, the hotter it gets. Finally we walk into a huge open room with niches all around the walls and a big marble slab platform in the center. Below are pictures of this room in the hamam...I guess it would be considered the main room:

The woman takes us to one of the niches where we are told to sit down on either side of a large sink on the floor. The marble is heated. She turns the sink on and sets down a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. She hands us plastic bowls like the red ones in the second picture above. She stares at us, waiting. Waiting for what? Finally she grabs the bowl from my hand, sticks it under the faucet and then pours it right on my face. A splash of hot water. (It probably would not have been so "in-the-face" had I not been looking up at her questioningly. Rather, it would have been over my head.) As this happens, Christine breaks into wild laughter which echoes in the big empty room. Apparently my facial reactions were worth such laughter. The woman dousing me began laughing too. And then I joined. She continued to poor water over me and then Christine for several minutes, effectively soaking us.  

Once she finishes, she says something in Turkish and leaves. So we wait, and wait, and wait. We have not idea what we are supposed to be doing, especially with no other women in the bath for us to observe and learn from. The sinks have no drain so the hot water begins to pour over the sides of the sink. We decide to continue to pour water over us with our bowls, I suppose to feel like we are doing something useful, and talk and laugh. Mostly laugh. Our outbursts echo throughout the hot, empty room. Anything was funny.  The woman comes back, accompanied by another woman, both of whom are now topless. The original woman takes me to the large slab tabletop and lays me down on my stomach. The other woman takes Christine and does the same. 

She begins to "peel" me. Essentially rubbing my entire body down with a rough sponge-type thing. Literally everywhere (my rear end...unfortunately she pulled down my bathing-suit bottom, my armpits, etc.). She tries to remove my bathing-suit top, and fails, luckily. She rolls me over, then sits me up. When she takes my hand to do my arm, I gasp. I can see the dead skin covering my arm. I couldn't believe it. She laughs at me and takes me back to the sink. More water pouring begins, then she washes my hair and takes me back to the marble slab. Next comes the best part. The soft message. This was my favorite part. It felt amazing. Just what I needed after a week of sleeping on a bus and lugging around my backpack. When she was done, she sends me back to the sink and instructs me to pour water over myself. 

Once Christine joins me and we finish, the lady guides us back to the main room where the changing room is. We step in and quickly dress in our fresh clothes, pay, and walk outside. I CANNOT believe how relaxed and clean I feel. I have never felt so clean in my life. I also didn't realize how dirty I had felt throughout this trip. No offense to Istanbul, but it is one of the dirtiest cities I have yet to visit. We decide to walk back to Figen's, using a map she had given us with her location circled. We walk...a lot, but eventually make it back. We recount our experience at the hamam with Figen and tell her we are now planning to visit Topkapi. This will be our first venture over to the European side of Istanbul so Figen tells us how to catch a ferry from Kadikoy to Eminonu. 

So, off we go. We catch a dolmus to Kadikoy and a ferry to Eminonu. I really grew to love the daily 20 minute ferry rides. It is only about 3TL (roughly $1.75) to go from one side to the other. Riding on the blue water with the wind blowing across your face. It was one of those simple moments that I grew to deeply appreciate. We arrive in Eminonu to crowds, throngs, swarms of people with the backdrop of domes and minarets towering over us:

 

We wander aimlessly toward the direction that is away from the port and masses of people and find ourselves walking by shops, restaurants (nothing cute or special, this part of the city is pretty commercialized and boring), and small roads leading off who knows where. We are hungry for lunch so we stop at a place that makes smoothies on one side of the "restaurant" and sandwiches, burgers, etc. on the other.  Like most restaurants in this area, rather than having a door, there is a big opening. The walls on either side offering different choices and tables for sitting in between. We both get a fruit smoothie and a pita sandwich. Delicious! We chow down on the yummy food and we are off to Topkapi.

Asheville Abridged

I had an engagement session to shoot at the Biltmore this weekend and decided to make a weekend mini-vacation out of it and Lawrence came along. We didn't do much other than wander the streets and eat yummy, yummy food. But it was wonderfully relaxing and a nice change of pace.

 

On the road

Downtown at night 

Downtown

Local brews

A delicious dinner at Vinnie's Neighborhood Italian

Vinnie's Neighborhood Italian