Top 10 Spanish Dishes (in my unbiased experienced expert gastronomical opinion)

A meal that would typically feed at least 2 or 3 in Spain, I consumed myself haha because 'Murica

     There I was, in Madrid, Spain, first time, almost a decade ago. Social anxiety at its peak. I am an introvert and there was so much going on in my travel abroad group. So many people. I had never left the US before, neither had anybody that I had ever known. I couldn't ask anyone how this would be, or how that would be. I was scared of flying in a plane, I was scared of heights, I was scared of the ocean, I was scared of people to an extent, but I was never scared of getting away. By this point in my life I had become accustomed to running away, regardless of where it might be. 

     I sat there after the 13 hour journey, having crossed the ocean, in a plane, higher than ever. surrounded by people I didn't know, thousands of miles from home. I had done my research, as much as I could anyway, prior to arrival. I had some material through my program to review to kind of prepare me for my time abroad in Spain over the next half a year. Although that material covered a lot, there are just some things writing and documents simply cant prepare you for. Experience is the only thing that might be able to prepare you for something, but well, that takes a first time, and second time, and a third.

     I ventured off on my own, as I normally do, somewhere in Madrid, near our hotel. I remembered reading about one of the national dishes, paella, and having wanted to try it. To this point, all I had ever known was food that was available in the US and what I had eaten at home; Mexican, Italian, Native and  your typical "American" food like hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza and such. I had no idea the gastronomic adventure I would be going on from this point forth...

     Upon my return to the United States after my half year study abroad program in Malaga, Andalusia, Spain, one of the first questions someone had asked me was how was the food? They then proceeded to inquire if the tacos, enchiladas and burritos were any good out there before I could begin to answer...Often times, due to the proximity of Mexico to the US, a lack of education, knowledge, outright ignorance and the confusion of language with nationality, Spanish food can get confused for Mexican food. Nothing against Mexican food, I love it almost as much as I do any other culture rich in gastronomical variety and flavors, but it is very different in several aspects from Spanish food; one being a mix of indigenous food and the introduction of European ingredients and variations through cross cultural mixing, and the other being more Mediterranean based and generally unchanged for at least a millenia sometimes going back to the Roman times. Asking how the tacos in Spain are is equal to asking how is the "toad in the hole" in America....exactly....ni puta idea...not a fucking clue...

     Paella was about the extent to which my knowledge of Spanish cuisine had went, if that. To this point, as the Spanish would say, "ni puta idea", I had no idea myself what exactly Spanish food was outside of this rice stuff I read up on. In the US, especially where I lived in Colorado, there was really only Mexican, Italian, Native American and "American" food. I had never seen or heard of a "Spanish" restaurant, and I too never even thought about it as being possibly much different than the Mexican American cuisine I would come to know. Growing up, my mom would cook what I would eventually come to realize were some variations of Spanish dishes, like empanadas with meat and sometimes mixed with fruits, and some soups and stews that resembled in some fashion some of the ones you would find in the mountains of the Basque Country and mountain regions of Spain. 

     Before I begin I want to stress some of the differences in lifestyle and other things that make a difference in the cuisine in Spain and my home country of the United States, and perhaps others. In Spain, often there is a style of eating called picar, tapear and txikiteo. This can happen in home amongst the families as well as amongst friends in the street on a night out when you go to bar, tapa or pintxo "crawls". Essentially what it is is the art of cooking or ordering many various different dishes and sharing them among everybody around. It's a stark contrast to me and what I came accustomed to in the US, as what I order there is for me and I'm not necessarily looking to share it with anyone, outside of maybe a girlfriend, which I haven't had in a decade so that's irrelevant here. Spain is much more social when it comes to sharing just about everything, whereas in the US, what we order is for us. Imagine ordering a steak and lobster, cutting up the steak and lobster and electing to put it all in the middle of the table for all to share. What's more likely to happen is everyone at the table orders their own dishes in the US. Not the case in Spain.

     Another difference would be the importance of some of the meal times. In America, breakfast is the most important meal of the day because supposedly it helps to get the brain going for work and school and yutta yutta. In Spain, the prized meal is lunch. Breakfast often is nothing more than toast with jelly and butter or sometimes tomato and cured ham with a coffee with milk AKA cafe con leche and at times with a little shot of brandy for the daring. Lunch is when you will often have many of the dishes I will list as it is the most important meal of the day and instead of being eaten around noon or one, it usually often happens later in the day around 230 or 3, preceding the world renown spanish siesta, AKA afternoon nap time. I really came to dig this part of the culture here, as you can "throw a mean grub" and then crash out for a bit.You are highly unlikely to see people log jamming drive thru fast food places between 11 and 1 on any day to try and eat with their time crunch for lunch hour or feed the children in that same manner on weekends. Something like the scenes you would likely see at In n Out Burger or McDonald's. I'm not even sure there are drive thrus here come to think of it, I haven't seen one. Not that it's bad or wrong, but it's just a whole different ball game in Spain in comparison to America when it comes to eating. I would argue that food and the social structure around it and the family is taken a little more seriously in Spain. 

     One last thing before I hop into the top 10 foods, is the regionality of Spain, if regionality is even a word. Spain is broken up into several autonomous regions which are almost like entering a different country in some cases. Often times, the different regions have their own dialect or language all together while still having the castillano as the most widely known and spoken Spanish. Along with the differences in languages comes the differences in cuisine and ingredients available as some are closer to the sea or seaside while a good portion is inland and in the mountains. There are also differences in cultural practices, for instance bagpipes are played in the northwest with kilts worn with almost a Scottish type music. Down south in Andalusia, you will find many dressed sometimes in various colorful flamenco dresses for women and a vaquero horseman look for the men singing and dancing in a style consistent with the flamenco music which has more of an eastern feel and vibe to it. So the food is as varied as just about anything else throughout the several regions of Spain, all just as rich and flavorful as the other. 

     Without further ado, here are, in my experience, the top 10 foods, as I have had the privilege to try cuisine in almost every region throughout Spain from the Basque Country in the north to the Costa del Sol region in the south and several several areas in between. I studied abroad for half year in the south in Malaga and taught English in the central region off and on for almost a year in the Madrid area and have vacationed and traveled almost everywhere else in Spain from those points. I will say I have been blessed with being able to try many things in this particular list, both from exploring on my own to having the honor of living in the homes of the Spanish who make the absolute best home made versions of several of the dishes on this list. I had trouble rounding it down to 10 and even more trouble trying to number them 10 to 1. So this actually is in no particular order, as number 1 will not correspond to the best dish in Spain in my tastes. The country, to me, is far too rich and varied to deem any one dish the best, therefore, the list is the 10 best.

     1. Paella

Paella is probably the most well known if not one of the top well known dishes in Spain. It is an amazing dish featuring rice with saffron spice which gives it its color and some flavor and varies from place to place. It can feature seafood like prawns, calamari squid, clams, mussels and other fruits of the sea. There is also a variation where the rice is stained with octopus ink and is black, called paella negra. The dish can also feature meats like rabbit, duck, chicken and even sometimes chorizo. It is more often than not served with some vegetables like peas, green and red peppers, amongst others. Every variation I have ever tried was exquisite. The first time was with rabbit and I thought it was chicken until my host mom told me otherwise, but I would have to say my favorite variation features seafood in some capacity, most especially the calamari. You can never go wrong with having paella in Spain.

     




2. Gazpacho 

Gazpacho was born, it is said, from the Roman soldiers. They would mix the ingredients together to form a cold bread soup which included water, vinegar, olive oil, bread and garlic. Today's version includes tomato and green pepper, which wasn't introduced until the new and old worlds came together, making for a mixing of ingredients from the Americas and Europe. This is seriously a dish I could eat every single day, especially in the summer or spring, when it is typically consumed as a cold soup. I in fact got the honor to learn a recipe and practice making it in a home I live in outside of Madrid. You absolutely must get some good bread to go along with this delight to both soak it in, and clean the bowl with after consumption. This is a personal favorite of mine. Its appearance looks like a creamy reddish puree, so visually it doesn't look too appealing but once all the flavor hits you, its like a firework show for the taste buds.

3. Boquerones

As I had mentioned earlier, my first exposure really to Spanish cuisine ultimately came from the south in Andalusia, in the city of Malaga. Malaga is situated on the Costa del Sol on the Mediterranean Sea, therefore is rich in food from the sea. One of the gems here is boquerones, which are essentially anchovies from this coast. You can get them in 2 styles, fried or with vinegar and garlic, both of which are excellent but different. For my taste, I prefer fried with the crunchiness along with some lemon squeezed on them. An interesting tidbit is the locals from Malaga are sometimes themselves called "boquerones", as I at times call my friends from the area. In the summer there are places along the beach called "chiringuitos" where they place stacks of boquerones on skewers and place them in mini boats filled with wood and coal and cook them right there fresh on the spot. Perfect for summer, especially with a tinto verano or a nice jarra de sangria. Paradise. 

4. Cocido Madrileno 

I will never forget the first time I tried this amazing bowl of awesomeness. It was a colder day at the base of the mountains in Torrelodones at my au pair home. It is a soup with garbanzo beans, potatoes, various meats including lacon and morcilla with vegetables. All the flavors come together and immediately teleport you to "flavor town" lol. Morcilla is a blood sausage which comes from the north in a place called Burgos, where coincidentally my Salazar side of my ancestry originated, which I absolutely love. I wasn't sure if I would like it at first when I tried either morcilla or cocido based on look and inexperience, but they both wound up being personal favorites and the morcilla makes the soup in my opinion. My host mom in house makes the absolute best cocido madrileno and sometimes we would barter good English lessons for the house in exchange for a nice warm cocido, totally advantageous to me haha. 

5. Huevos Rotos

It's about noon, and I am at my host home in Spain, and I think I am actually going to go cook me a quick huevos rotos. Back home in the US, one of my absolute favorite things to eat, was eggs potatoes and bacon. Typically a breakfast dish, it was inspired by the full English breakfast and found its way onto tables in the US in the mornings. I ate that combo for lunch and dinner often as well. Come to find out, so do the Spanish! Except they add a very nice twist depending on where you are or who you ask. Huevos rotos means "broken eggs" and that's essentially what it is over potatoes in some form or another, including cubes or fries. What separates it from any other dish that may at first appear to be just your regular breakfast mix, is the addition of the Spanish meats. You can add jamon iberico or serrano which is the Spanish dry cured ham that I will cover later, the aforementioned morcilla or another personal fav is "chistorra" which is a special type of pork sausage from the north. However, you can add just about any Spanish meat to elevate the flavor from plain old breakfast to a Spanish delicacy. I eat this just about as often as I can given my love for the combo of eggs potatoes and meat. 

6. Pulpo a la Gallega

Before ever having came to Spain, I never really tried or liked seafood outside of the traditional stuff you might get at your local steakhouse like shrimp, crab, and lobster. It had never even occurred to me that octopus was even edible. Then I came to Spain. La gente esta muy loca. haha. I tried a few variations, one of which didn't make this list but was still very good, pulpo frito or fried octopus. Then I got the chance to try the dish that held the pride of the northwestern region, Galicia. It is a dish that has a very simple list of ingredients, but the preparation of the octopus is key. It's only octopus, potatoes, paprika a little salt and some olive oil. Never did I imagine I would come to love octopus as I do now, and to pulpo a la gallega do I owe my thanks. Coming from the rocky mountains of Colorado, I really didn't get exposure much to the wonderful things in the sea that were edible, and I am ever so grateful that I have gotten the opportunity in Spain to explore and expand my personal tastes on the level that I have. I tried pulpo a la gallega in plaza mayor, an old bullring and square in Madrid with much history and culinary variation, however it is a very touristy spot. With that being said, I will make my way to Galicia to try this dish in its full glory and authenticity one day hopefully soon.

     
7. Cochinillo

I had the pleasure of spending Christmas in Madrid with my host family and their extended family one year, and my God, talk about a feast! This is where I would be exposed to dish after dish, dessert after dessert, breads, soups, meats, cheeses and then the drinks! By far one of the best Christmas nights I will ever have and have ever had. I was of course the only non native speaker of Spanish and upon them hearing of me coming, they prepared a menu of all the items to be offered this night in both Spanish on one side and English on the other. It was a way that they welcomed me in their home for this amazing night. We were all sitting around laughing, drinking, sharing hams, cheeses and everything. Next thing you know from the kitchen they bring out a small baby pig, entirely cooked! I was about to call PETA, but then the dish was explained to me in full haha and then I took a pic with it. This delicacy is most well known in a place called Segovia, northwest of Madrid. It's a suckling pig cooked in whole during large feasts and is usually prepared between the age of 2 and 6 weeks old. I had my doubts, but as soon as I was given my plate, holy cannoli it was a flavor I had never expected. The meat is super sweet, soft, juicy, and if you pair it with the crunchy succulent skin, oh my word! Definitely one of the best things I had ever tasted in all of my life. I got to again try it on a Valentines Day family retreat in Segovia a few months later. I got to see them part the meat with a plate, but sadly I didn't get to witness the tradition of them breaking the plate afterward on the floor. 

8. Cordero Asado

During this same Christmas bash and feast, prior to the coming out of the cochinillo, another amazing delicacy came from out of the kitchen. I tell you this Christmas bash was unlike anything else I had ever been a part of for noche buena, as the Spanish call it. So I guess it was technically Christmas Eve. Boy, did I ever come to know exactly why it is called "noche buena", the good night. Anyhow, this next delicacy was something that I had never tried back home. Lamb. This happened to be grilled lamb, and cooked to an absolute perfection. I would come to love this dish, and Ii began to order it when I could back home, when the funds would allow for me to. I remember coming across my first Spanish restaurant in southern California called Sevillas. They offered this dish, cordero asado, although quite a bit more watered down and more expensive. Like several other dishes on this list, I had my doubts. To this point I hadn't ventured too far off gastronomically from what I had known and grown comfortable with. I imagined lamb as having a weird taste and texture, possibly "gamey" and so I never gave it a chance. This night was a must. It exceeded far and away any expectation I had of it. If you ever get a chance, you have to try grilled lamb, but here in Spain, it is absolutely one of the best things you can possibly eat.

9. Albondigas

These last few spots were really hard to fill. In this particular spot it came down to the winner, albondigas, and the runner up of rabo de toro. Rabo de toro is bulls tail, exactly what I just said, the tail of a bull. The Spanish are not wasteful and eat every bit of whatever animal they cook up. I had recently tried rabo de toro my first time, homemade, and it was exquisite. The sauce was critical and it reminded me of ribs that are cooked perfectly, where the meat just slides off of the bone. Again, a dish I was skeptical of trying at first from the sound, but damn, turned out to catapult itself just outside top 10 in my first taste of it. Back to albondigas, which are essentially meatballs with sauce and seasoned to perfection. Back home in Colorado, anything that is super good we refer to as "chronic", I'll let you speculate as to why, and albondigas are super chronic. The father of the home I teach English at used to bring home albondigas from his mom in Madrid every once in awhile. Both of my grandmas also used to make these. They are somewhat kind of similar to the Italian American meatballs that you can find in spaghetti and meatball dishes, but are isolated, and the sauce and meat mixture far different. The first time I tried them here in Spain, it was all I wanted to ever eat. I would always ask my home father if his mom sent albondigas, just about every other day. I'm sure he got annoyed at some point haha. Like with many things in Spain, the sauce is what makes the dish, and I honestly don't know what is used outside of possibly garlic and olive oil, like everything else in Spain. As with most other things that have sauce or puree, a good bread is critical to clean up the plate after.

10. Jamon Iberico de Bellota

One can not mention Spanish delicacies without mentioning the jamon iberico. Although there exists a couple different variations of this amazing delicacy, the best and most important is the jamon iberico de bellota. I just made some huevos rotos and I instead used the cheaper version called jamon serrano. Some of the differences I have come to know between the 2 is the jamon iberico is associated with "pata negra" or black foot. The hooves on the pigs in which this dry cured meat comes is essential in knowing its quality. The blacker the hoof, the better. The darker more red the meat, the better. This is due to a dietary difference in the black wild boar pigs from which this dry cured meat comes. It is unique to Iberia, the region of Spain and Portugal. The good kind, pata negra, jamon iberico de bellota, is a wild boar with a specific diet often times including acorns and chestnuts. They are dry cured for up to 2 years before being artfully sliced and served. Outside of that, I can not say I know much more about the process by which this meat is produced, but madre mia, its a meat that is superbly flavorful, nearly buttery and moist with the perfect combo of meat and fat, and is one of the best cuts of meat on planet earth. I wasn't aware of the differences before from jamon serrano and jamon iberico prior to being schooled in home on the delicate differences. Now I know to use serrano with my huevos rotos because the jamon iberico should be enjoyed completely by itself in order to totally appreciate its flavor, texture and preparation, so as not to compromise it by mixing it with anything else, almost like using Jack Daniels for a Jack and Coke and having a glass of Glenlivet Scotch on the rocks, solo, not wasting it with Coke.

And there you have my top 10 Spanish delicacies. My 3 runner ups would be Pintxos Gilda, a basque appetizer comprised of anchovy, manzanilla olive and a green guindilla pepper. Excellent combination of flavors to all come together as do most of the artfully produced pintxos from the northern Basque Country. I mentioned rabo de toro, bulls tail, earlier and touched on it briefly and last but not least for the runner ups is pincho moruno which is a Moorish influenced pork skewer seasoned to perfection with cubes of meat. 

Not only do I hope you enjoyed reading this, but I truly hope that you have gotten to or one day get to, experience the culinary treasures of Spain in all their variations and glory. With that being said, the tacos and enchiladas in Spain are alright...

     

     

India, Karma, and Magic (Part III)

one of my tuk tuk drivers throughout my stay in Delhi...

     

     There I was, at a gas station somewhere in between Colorado and California in the desert of Arizona. I was holding and looking at a statue of the Indian god Ganesha, the elephant headed god of new beginnings; patron of arts and sciences; remover of obstacles. The henna tattoo I had received on my left hand the week prior at the wedding celebration in New Delhi was slowly fading, but was still there, reminding me of the magic I had just experienced not long before this trip across the US. It was a funny coincidence that I was scrambling to get a few souvenirs from India the day before I had left. I wound up getting 2 of the same little wooden statues, of Ganesha, one regular wood, and one sandalwood. 2 statues of the god of new beginnings...

     I remember getting up my last day there in New Delhi. Manu had to leave early as his flight back to Spain left in the afternoon. It was most of our last day before we all went back to whatever corner of the earth we came from. I remember looking at my itinerary and seeing that my flight didn't leave until the next day at 3 or so. I recalled not having a room booked for this extra day I was going to need to stay and began to panic. So I had booked an extra night at this luxurious place, the Leela. While looking at my itinerary and time of my flight, it had occurred to me that I in fact left at 3 in the morning, which technically was the next day and not the next day as in afternoon. So I did not need to book a room for this night (after already having booked the room for the night). So like a fool, I had to request a refund and reveal to them that I made the mistake of thinking my flight was at 3 the next day in the afternoon rather than 3 that night in the morning. They understood and promptly processed a refund for me in cash rather than back on my card. 

     It was me and maybe a handful of people left over, while the rest of the party from the wedding had taken off. I was excited that I would have the whole day with which to do as I pleased with. Most of the other nights we were there, there were events scheduled and planned almost every night, leaving little time to get out and explore, as I like to do. So it was myself and 2 friends from Ukraine that kind of went out exploring as their flights also didn't leave until the following day. 

     We 3 had made an attempt at going to see the Akshardam a few days prior. Entry closed at 6pm, and we wound up showing up at literally 610 and were denied entry a few days before so we decided we would go and give it another shot on this evening. In the mean time we would find some places to hang out and eat and burn time. I very fondly remember our tuk tuk driver. Of all the experiences I had in India, I will never forget riding in the tuk tuks. I fell in love with it, almost like a ride at an amusement park, but far more thrilling and the operators only added to the mystery and excitement of it all. He offered to be our driver for the day and I asked him about taking me to the airport later that night, much later. He had a lot of personality and was not shy. I very much so enjoyed his company during our adventures throughout the day.

     I remember wanting some souvenirs, so we asked him to take us to some shops that would have good deals. I told him I wanted little statues of gods, like I had collected in Greece. While I was in 

Greece I had collected statues and pots of the Greek gods. It is a funny coincidence that when I was a child, I loved wrestling and WWF and WCW. I would collect the little wrestler toys all the time of sting, and Scott Hall, and Kevin Nash and others. 20+ years down the road, I'm still collecting little toys but of gods now from around the world and my trips. 

     On the way into New Delhi to go souvenir hunting and grab some food, my friends and I were on the highway, and all of a sudden we seen an elephant in the street. Like it was a car, in a lane, but it was an elephant!!! We asked the tuk tuk driver, 'Is that seriously an elephant in the road parading like its a vehicle?' Coming from the United States and especially Los Angeles and that insanely huge and chaotic freeway system, it was quite mind boggling to see some of the things I had seen on the major roads in New Delhi. I had seen groups of men carrying things almost like trailers, I had seen horses, tuk tuks, motorcycles, mopeds, cars, trucks, vans, all in the lanes of traffic. On this, my last day, to see an elephant at the last moments navigating through the city could not be a coincidence. Surely, it was fate, it had to be. 

     Initially, we were just going to take pictures of the elephant and its driver as it passed on the freeway, as we stopped and pulled to the side at the advisement of the tuk tuk driver. He then asked if we wanted a picture with it and stopped the elephant by waving down the driver on top of its head. They exchanged words in what I assume was the Hindi language and before you know it he was asking us if we wanted to go for a ride on it! My mind was blown. I had never rode any animal before, not a horse, not a big dog as a child or anything, so I admittedly was a little unsure and apprehensive. There was room for only 2 so my good friend Artem said to me to go with his girlfriend for the ride and he would film with the mobile phones and take pictures. I obliged and attempted to mount this huge animal. I was worried thinking it might not like me getting on it and try to shake me off. Not the case, but I still had difficulty trying to mount it as it took me a few attempts. 

     After falling off the creature a couple times, I successfully got on top with my female friend from Ukraine. It was quite a magical experience as we rode the creature for probably 300 yards or so and took an exit to a smaller street. As all this was going on, traffic was stopped or being stopped behind the elephant and horns were going off non stop. Some of the bystanders and drivers were taking pictures and enamored, while others seemed to be mad and honked at us, as if it would make the elephant all of a sudden go from 5 miles an hour to 50. Artem was on the side street recording and taking pictures as me and our friend Aliona were on this majestic creature, experiencing the ride of a lifetime, for me anyways. A purely magical experience. It made me think of the phrase 'only in America' but in this instance, 'only in India'. Just imagine going down interstate 10, or I-5, or the 405 or 605 in Los Angeles during rush hour and seeing an elephant pass by amongst the cars...

     After riding this majestic creature for a bit, we were back off in the tuk tuk to search for souvenirs in the city. We came to some spots by his recommendation. They were more expensive than I assumed they might be. We tried a few different places. I wound up getting a few Indian shawls and a couple of statues of Vishnu and Ganesha and postcards. Time was running out as evening began to fall. Riding around in the tuk tuk, as became my favorite thing to do in India, I watched as the horizon began to swallow the sun. As I had the night prior on the way to the wedding in a taxi, I had become sad knowing that this moment in time was coming to an end. I had become all to familiar with the process of closure when these types of trips and events come to an end.

     To me, in most of what I've learned in my personal studies and experiences, and certainly not by indoctrination in the western academic systems, life is linear and not cyclical. No two points in the space time continuum are the same. All moments in time are all unique in and of themselves, even if you try to replicate them as best you possibly can. Several several times throughout my life and trips I have had to make peace with this realization, knowing that a moment like this or that will never happen again. But then you learn to appreciate that they happened in the first place and move forward hoping for the next one like it or better.

     I really have to tell you and emphasize the fun I had on tuk tuks in India. I likened them to a carnival ride and had a blast every single time I got on one, albeit you never knew if you would be involved in an accident because of the chaotic style of the freeways and roads paired with the drivers and their styles. Every tuk tuk driver was different. I had one that was silent and hardly spoke, and another who would not stop speaking. In the back of one of these 3 wheeled little vehicles was room for at least 1 and max 3 smaller people and a lifetimes worth of stories and adventures around the city. 

     As the sun set, my friends from Ukraine and I, 3 in total, decided to give the Akshardaam another try. This is the biggest Hindu temple in the world and is situated in New Delhi. We had tried a few nights before but didn't make the time strict time limit to get in, but here we were again, after having dusted it off ready to try again. This time we did get there on time. It took nearly 2 hours in line, because it was easily one of, if not the biggest line of people I had ever seen in my life

     There we were, my 2 Ukrainian friends and I, at the divine abode of god, also known as the Akshardaham. There are few, if any, places on earth that I had seen before that could rival the majesty and perfection and awe that this edifice did. Only one or two places come to mind that I have had the privilege of seeing in person in all the world that could possibly be in the same conversation as the Akshardaham; one being the Vatican and the Giovanni Laterno in Rome, Italy and the Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona Spain. As all things hold their own unique beauty, I cant say that one is better than the other in any regard, but the feeling you get inside when the windows to your soul behold the majesty that these places display divinely and impeccably can not be described in any language, but only possibly in vibration, like the butterflies you get when you fall in love the first time, or you get your first kiss, or you commit your first act that calls for a consequence. 

     Just as I had been when at St Peters Basilica in Rome, so to was I overwhelmed and in a borderline state of shock that I was seeing what I was seeing. The architecture was mind blowing. All around the outside were elephants and intricate scenes of animals, gods and man. If carved by hand, this is one of the world's most majestic marvels to ever behold. On the inside, and clearly visible from the outside with the right angle toward the door was a giant golden statue of Swaminarayan, a yogi believed to be the personification of God himself. This place was a divine place of peace, worship, culture, history, and excited every one of the senses. It held true to the meaning of its name, the abode of the almighty God. 

     After having walked through, we were presented with the possibility of watching the light show in the court outside. Another display that was truly captivating and majestic in it's very own right. It was an indescribable display of light, water, lasers, actors and music that grabbed the soul. There are not very many words to describe this show so I won't attempt to, you have to see it for yourself. Everything about this site was so divine and made me think of the saying common in India upon meeting someone new, 'namaste' as I learned while there, that divine spark within all men, women, and children that at times gets buried and hidden by whatever means. That divine spark, divine light was on full display here in this edifice, in the water show, in the tuk tuk drivers, in the architecture, in the history, in the culture, in the wedding ceremonies, in the clothing, in the animals, in the food and in everything. This adventure on the last half day in Delhi was the cherry on top, almost as if India herself was sending me off with one last special memory and souvenir for the mind. Magic...

     By the end of this show, it was getting late. I had to be to the airport 3 hours before my flight back to Los Angeles. It was already 9 or 10 by the time we got back to our personal tuk tuk driver.So I had a few hours to burn as this magical journey came to a close. I wanted to see my friend more, as I had seen him and hung out with him very little while there during his special day and ceremony. I also understood my place there and didn't push it. I was beyond happy for my friend and so honored that he invited me. He treated me and saw to it that I was treated better than I ever had been in my life on a trip. I also lack words for my gratitude for my friend Shashanks presence in my life, it can not be overstated. We met in Madrid through my friend Manu and got close and spent a lot of time together on the weekends there. I hope to repay him one day and make a trip on my own back to his country to visit him and his wife.

     The faithful and animated tuk tuk driver that had chauffeured us around all day on this last day was there waiting for us, just as he said, a few hours after he dropped us off at Akshardham. An awesome guy he was and certainly reliable and very friendly.I mentioned to him that I had to go to the airport and be there by midnight and he passionately volunteered to be there to take me there also at that time. He took us to the hotel that my friends from Ukraine had rented for the night prior to them leaving the following day back to Kiev. We socialized and talked and had some drinks as the sand from the top of the hourglass ran almost out for our time here in New Delhi. My friends all took off to grab some dinner and invited me and I kindly declined as I was hoping to get maybe an hour of sleep in before I had to go to the airport. 

     I went back to the Leela hotel where we stayed the whole week to catch a taxi that had been arranged for me to go to the airport. I also met up with my friend for a quick bite and said to him my goodbyes. This was it. This magical chapter was coming to a close. As I was sitting down having a soda and my last bite to eat in India, it had occurred to me that the hotel had booked a taxi for me which was recommended with the luggage I had and it would get me there much faster than a tuk tuk. It was almost time to catch this taxi after I finished eating with my friend Chao. I had, at the last moment, remembered that our faithful tuk tuk driver wanted to take me and said he would be waiting for me around 10 in the evening outside of the hotel. Oh man, poor guy, I had totally forgot that I had told him this.

     I know that the poor guy probably doesn't make a whole lot of money driving his tuk tuks. I also knew that he probably had a family back home that waited for him each night after work, that depended on him. I could have been wrong but those were my base assumptions. What I got to know about him on this day that he carried out his duty as being basically our personal chauffeur, was that he was a good kind person with a good heart and good spirit. The last thing that I knew, was that I could not leave him hanging, as he agreed to be outside waiting for me around that time, late in the evening, away from his family or possibly other duties when he could have been driving around other people making money for him and his family. 

     The taxi was already at the hotel waiting for me. I told them to give me 5 more minutes, as I had to go look for my tuk tuk driver. For the life of me, I do not recall his name, but I will never forget this man. As I went around front of the hotel, sure enough, there he was, waiting for me. I felt like shit having to inform him that I had to take a taxi instead of one last tuk tuk ride with him. I could see he was sad, as he was looking forward to this trip to the airport and back. 

     I had already prepared what I had hoped would be a remedy for this dilemma for the poor guy. I had quite a bit of rupees left that I was unable to spend before I left. I usually collect currency from whatever country I visit that is foreign to the American dollar, for souvenirs. I had a 2000 rupee bill which was about 25, maybe 30 dollars. When we negotiated the price for taking me to the airport earlier he said he would do it for 1000 rupees, which is about 15 dollars. I tried to at least double it for him to cover the time he waited, and paid for the trip to the airport that I wound up not being able to take with him. So I gave that to him, in hopes that it would suffice for him being a faithful and honorable man and tuk tuk driver all day, and for my mistake of forgetting about him. Karma. 

     Throughout my time in India, I had learned very much about namaste, the divine spark inside everyone, and this honorable man especially had that, as I told him that when I departed from him to catch my taxi. It was certainly an honor to know him and the divinity within him and if God permit by some miraculous chance, I might have him again as my tuk tuk driver at a future visit to India. The main reason that I wanted to make it right with him, as I saw his sadness upon my breaking the news to him, was KARMA. When I gave him that money, he smiled, we chatted briefly, exchanged namastes, and I had hoped it would be enough to help him and his family as I knew a lot may have been on hold as he honorably held firm to his earlier commitment to getting me to the airport. Karma is a very real thing, and being in India, it couldn't have been made more evident to me. 

     Upon my return to the U.S., I had a lot of change going on. Within a week of my return, I had to move out of my place, I wasn't happy at my job, and I wasn't happy with my situation or setting anymore. Something inside of me changed in my short time in India. Something that made me OK with trying to make my light shine a little brighter, and not settling for less and dimming it on account of something or someone else. I spontaneously made a decision one night, as my truck was full of my belongings from my move. I didn't really know where I was going to move, what the future held, or what direction I might take. I did know, however, that as had become the most common theme in my life, that change was on the horizon yet again.

     As I glanced at my little statues of the elephant headed Ganesha that sat on my dashboard of my truck under the mirror, I remembered that he was the god of intellect and wisdom, the remover of obstacles and the god of new beginnings. It was about midnight, and I had just dropped off a futon at one of my good friends house' as I tried to ditch any extra weight I did not need as I would venture onto the unknown yet again. I remembered the incredibly unforgettable beautiful time I had in India, and it was almost as if Ganesha himself whispered to me at this moment, "Go".

     Off I went, at midnight that night, my truck full of my shit. From the snow capped cold mountains of Colorado in early December, I parted yet again. Off to the long dry cool deserts of Arizona and California I drove this night. "OK", I spoke aloud almost responding to Ganesha, "here we go." Off to a new beginning, as all obstacles had been cleared to make way for this decision to be made easily. My light, my spark, would grow, and it was almost purely through and by my time and experiences in India, the karma, and the magic...

poor elephant...

     

India, Karma and Magic Part II

 

   

     "Namaste." said the gentleman out front of the hotel as he bowed with hands together and a warming smile on his face.
     "Namaste." I replied, as I followed suit to return the gesture, except of course I had an iphone in between my hands. I had wondered if this was perhaps not as respectful as it could be and I tried not to do it with my phone in hand anymore. I had heard the expression before in some yoga talks, but never quite knew the meaning. I still didn't know until I returned home and looked into it. It is about honoring the divinity in one another; the light, the beauty, the peace and the truth that resides within us all. It is a very powerful concept I came to find. What a truly beautiful expression. Divinity..
     On this day, the day we had all been waiting for, the divinity of everyone around and the divinity of the unseen were all present; the whole magical day and night. As I sit here and listen to some Indian music as I type, I will attempt to go back in time to what already seems a lifetime ago; yet was not even a few month ago. It was the most amazing elegant surreal day of my life thus far, and I have had a few prior to this.
     "How do I look Manu?" I pondered as I had just showered and tried on my red and gold traditional attire for the wedding. I had no idea what the tradition was for weddings in India, I didn't know what color scheme would be utilized, heck, I didn't even know where the event was or at what time it began. I was ecstatic to wear the attire for the first and what might be the last time. I knew that most all the other males in the group would probably be wearing the usual western suit and tie for the affair, and I figured, when in Rome, do as the Romans do...except I was in India. Once I had gotten out of the shower and all prepared for the day in my traditional dress, I had to know the first impression I gave from Manu.
     "It looks very good Brian! Very traditional!".
     I felt like at this time I was all prepared and ready for this very special day. We had all went to a club in downtown Delhi the night before to dance, celebrate and let loose before the day, so I was definitely feeling some of the effects from that decision. Breakfast is served up until 10am at the hotel, and we woke up about 9:50.
     I got my mess of curly hair together in record time, threw on my shoes and headed down in somewhat of a hurry. I informed Manu that I would meet him there. I was a tad hungover and needed something in my stomach. Breakfast at the hotel was nice, we had it nearly every morning there, as it was included. I tried to get a little bit adventurous gastronomically by trying some of the things I wasn't quite sure was. Ultimately I settled into the old traditional breakfast I knew, which was eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast and coffee.
     I dont remember having been this excited for many, if any, events in my life. It took me that whole week and all the events leading up to it for me to really realize that I was on the other side of the earth, having the time of my life with friends, and there to see one of my best frinds get married. I didn't really know what I was in for. I had been to a few weddings here in the US, and even most recently a month before I went to India, I had the privilege of being part of my best friends wedding in Colorado.
     Of the few weddings I had been to in America ( I come from a family and friend background where few people have been married in my lifetime), I was able to see an overall style or tradition to weddings in this country. My best friends was a smaller event, with only the very close circle of their family and friends were able to attend. It was up in the mountains alongside a lake and maybe 25 people or so. We all dressed nice and formally, in the traditional western wear for men and women with suits and ties and dresses. There was a ceremony announcing the coming together of the 2 souls, and we departed to meet at a really nice restaurant and enjoy dinner all together. Afterwards we all got together to have a great night all together laughing, smiling, and enjoying this special day together.
     That has seemed to be the custom in many of the weddings I have attended here in the US. Having gone to India for a traditional  Indian wedding was a whole different ball game. It was as announced and as large, grand and as elegant as a ceremony as I have ever seen. It was very international. There were people from all over the world there; China, Russia, India, Ukraine, France, Spain, Germany, Argentina, England, US. It was incredible being among such an intelligent and diverse group of young amazing people from different walks of life and different corners of the world.
     So there I am, looking in the mirror, with my red and gold achkan (I believe it is called), looking decent and reasonably traditional for this special occasion. My friend Manu and I headed down to reception to meet the party of everyone else. Upon exiting the elevator and seeing eveyone else in their attire for the wedding was quite special. The beautiful ladies were all in traditional dresses of all different radiant and bright colors. Some of the guys went with the traditional western tailored suits, while a few of us went with the traditional Indian achkan. Here we were, all together, ready for this event that the entire week, entire month, year...lifetime...had been leading up to. It was a mystery to everyone where exactly the event was going to be held, all we knew is what time we had to be in the lobby to get going.
     We first had to stop by my friends, the groom, house which was near the hotel we were staying at. Everything was a surprise that day. There were not many details to the itinerary for the plans for this day. It was all a big surprise. We were kind of just being told to hop into cabs and be prepared.
     We pulled up to a house that was decorated from top to bottom in beautifully colored cloths and there was a big band in the streets in front and many many people dressed in beautiful vestments celebrating and smiling. I recall seeing a horse with a beautiful red decorated blanket on its back and tried to put 2 and 2 together to find out its purpose in the ceremony. Inside of the building was my friend, the groom, and his family having a traditional ceremony inside. I went inside briefly to see him seated in his amazing stunning traditional wedding suit. It was all gold with pearls. He looked lie a prince, and conducted himself as such as well. It was breathtaking.
     This whole time, no one had seen the bride. My friend later told me that it was tradition for the bride and groom to remain separated the entire week prior to the ceremony with their own families and friends holding their own celebrations and get togethers. I recall looking around at all the events the whole week prior for the bride and never seen her, so I had to ask. Still, the groom or no one would see her until we arrived to the center where the ceremony would be held.
     So there we all were, in this grand ceremony in the streets of New Delhi with music blasting from drums and trumpets of the what I assumed to be local band. Dresses and traditional male suits of all colors. That was a vivid memory was all the beautiful and various colors everywhere. Before I continue, anyone who knows me, knows I am not a dancer. I never dance. But this day, I would dance for a lifetimes worth of dancing. One of my Indian friends said that whoever dances the most and most vigorously during the procession was the one who wished the best for the groom. uh oh....
     He came out of the house, with his little companion at his side dressed equally impressive. They both mounted the horse and thus began a parade/procession through the streets. Hundreds of us were dancing, laughing, living in the moment together for our friend for his special day. I remember seeing money being waved at him, and to my understanding it was to ward off bad energies.
     It was my friends Manu from Spain, Adrien from France and Chao from China that all left in a cab together to the mysterious sight where the magical event would be held. I almost felt like I was getting married (which is probably about as close to marriage as I'll get), I was so excited and had the jitters. I remember looking out the window, peering at the Indian sun setting. As i watched the sun set, I knew, after so many trips and magical experiences abroad, that the time for this magical time was also setting.
     We pulled up to the event center, and it turned out to be a Ritz-Carlton place, I had only heard of these prestigious places, never actually been to one and it was quite extravagant. I don't think we were supposed to walk into the venue and get a sneak peak, but we were the first to arrive and werent sure what to do, so we checked it out and it was pretty mind blowing. I had no idea the procession and celebrations that would follow..
     The walls were lined with food and snacks. What seemed like every 30 seconds a server would come up with a plate of something different and offer it. Everyone was getting their heads wrapped. The moment was overwhelming. Then there was the procession from the building we were at to the event center where the ceremony and dance would be held. Let me reiterate, I am not a dancer and don't jump up for the opportunity to dance when it does present itself. However, that was about to dramatically change over the course of the next couple hundred yards...
     We danced, and beat drums and shook instruments, and smiled and laughed and lived. I will never ever forget the magical moments of dancing and smiling. I remember I tried to stop dancing a few times, and one of the fellows with the band playing a trumpet got right next to me, intentionally, and played the trumpet as if I was the only one in the procession dancing, or atleast trying. The groom was behind us in a horse and carriage lit as we danced in front of him all the way. After we made it to the convention center, we were all able to stop dancing for a moment and find our way around.
     As far as the eyes could see, there was food. From one corner of this massive convention center to the other, sooooooo much food!! Even harder to believe was that it was all made without any beef and mostly vegetarian, keeping it inline with the customs of India. I didn't know what just about any of it was, but I was eager to try my luck. Luckily, I had my companion at my side who had all the recommendations and secrets for me, Deepak. Deepak was always at my  side during this trip, making it as comfortable and as magical as it could possibly be. He showed me around to the different platters and recommended for me the different things to try. He helped get my food on a plate and we all sat down with our friends and feasted. The gratitude that I have for my friends in India can not be expressed in words. Deepak, Dinesh and Shwam made my trip exponentially better and more comfortable.
     There were thousands of people from every corner of the earth, from all cultures together eating, dancing, rejoicing, smiling, laughing. It was such an overwhelming and beautiful experience. i tried to experience it both from an outside perspective as well as from the inside out. There are not words in the English language with which to express the feelings that took over my spirit this night. The ceremony, the photos, the culture, the heritage, the diversity, the joy, it was as euphoric and as an out of body experience as I have ever had.
     So here we all were, together, this night, for our friend Shank, and his life partner. When we came, they were 2 separate souls; when the night was over, they were one soul. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever had the honor to be a part of. The coming together of 2 souls to become one. There is a greek myth that says when we were created by zeus, we had 4 arms and 4 legs and a head with 2 faces. Seeing and fearing the power that we had, he split us into 2, condemning us to spend the rest of our existence looking for our other halves. To see that power of the conjoining of man and woman into one, I can see why. It is one of the most powerful universal and creative forces in all creation.
     Seeing all this made me put things in perspective of how it all ties together and how it relates to my story. I still strongly believe that I was never split into 2, although I don't have the 4 arms, legs and 2 heads. The more sand that runs from the top chamber to the bottom, the more I believe that my other half was never made from me. I have expressed my love, I have made the mistake of thinking that this woman or that woman was my other half. It takes A LOT, an understatement, for me to express such things to someone. Those are among the most bravest times in my life, when I have expressed this belief to someone, only for it to validate my subconscious belief that that greek myth is a truth for the majority, but not for me. I have believed my other half to be an American woman, a Romanian, a German, a Spanish woman, an Armenian princess, a Russian angel, an Ecuadorian queen, all of whom I have crossed paths with in the space time continuum. Hence, I continue to wonder the earth in search of my purpose. Some peoples purpose is their wife, their child, their job, their pet, their work. I am still in search of mine. I often wonder if it is to wander, because the journey is more important than the destination in my case.
     I know the difference, better than most, between love and lust. Tesla said if you want to know the secrets of the universe, they lie in frequency, vibration and energy. I know when I am around someone I could love, because it is their vibe, their energy, their spirit that I attract to. The physical appearance is secondary. I look up at my friends who are finding their other halves and becoming one, admittedly sometimes out of envy, but most times out of awe and joy. I figure the next best thing, is being a part of these experiences, being a part of the coming together of 2 souls to form one single soul.
     And here I was all danced out, I was full, and had something weird going on with my stomach most of the night. I wasn't feeling 100% so I was wiped out by the end of this night. The Indian shoes I had were paper thin and I had worn them even thinner with all the dancing that I did that day. My feet were killing me, my stomach was fighting me, and my body was saying it had enough. I found a little corner of the venue where I could rest and dozed off. I was thinking if I woke up, it would be back in my little studio apartment downtown Durango, Colorado. That all this had simply been a dream, and I was not really here, because it was too surreal, too euphoric. I remember getting a text asking where I was, because we were to present our gift to the newly weds that we collectively came together and pitched in for. I found my way over to where everyone was and it would be the last time I would see the bride and groom, until the next time fate would bring us together again in whatever corner of this earth.... and thus concludes the Magic part of the blog. Last and certainly not least, Karma will be the next post about my final day here in India and how the experience shaped my immediate future and decisions upon my return to my "home" country...
       
   
     

India, Karma and Magic (Part 1)

   

     There I sat, in my cab on the way to the airport, looking up at the moon. I wept. It was as if the moon looked down upon me in that cab, dumbfounded. I had just concluded the most magical, life changing, conscious shifting experience of all my life. I have experienced amazing, wonderful, beautiful things in my life time and time again, in several different corners of the earth. I have lived a life most can only dream of living. But something about this trip, in this particular corner of the earth, was different. It opened my eyes more than they had been; it opened my heart and my spirit to new heights. The evil cruel world I thought I lived in all of a sudden became the beautiful magical place i now exist in. It was India. It was karma. It was magic...
     Prior to my arrival and the long journey to Delhi, I was struggling financially, mentally and spiritually. I had not the means to make a trip across the earth happen. I lacked the mental strength to find a way, to pull a rabbit out of a hat, to make it happen. My spirit was broken because I was beginning to feel like a wandering soul without purpose upon the face of the earth. All I knew is my friend wanted me at his wedding in Delhi. I knew more than anything on earth I wanted to be there. It just didn't seem like it was going to happen. The sand was running out of the top chamber to make it happen. Right before I was about to inform my friend that it was unlikely that I could make the trip happen, he emailed me my itinerary; to Delhi and back. My heart dropped. It was then that I knew magic was real.
     The universe (and my brother/friend) conspired to make this trip happen, because I wasn't able to do as much as I would have liked to make it happen. So here I am a few weeks out from the trip, trying to think of how everything was going to work out. The farthest I had been from "home" prior to this, was Istanbul, Turkey. That is both physically and spiritually. Being far from home physically is one thing, but spiritually, is a whole different type of distance. India was much farther than that. It was an unknown unlike any other that I was presented with. I was excited, I was scared, I was unsure, but I was sure...
     Sunday morning came and I knew I had to be in Santa Fe by 1pm to catch the train. I was up late, no clean clothes, house and life were a mess. At this point I almost didn't want to go, but I knew I had to because this trip was beyond me. Got to the train station in Santa Fe just in the nick of time. There it was, step one complete: get on that damned train and get to Los Angeles. As I sat on that train ride, I knew anything could change over the course of the next week or so. When I leave this country, its always with an open mind, knowing I could make the choice to stay somewhere over seas, or something could happen. I try not to think conclusively or with any sense of permanence.
     I think my creator knew I needed a trip like this. I sat there and I cried knowing so much was going to change even when or if I got back to the states. I had to move out of my place on Dec 1, which was just a few days after I was scheduled to be back in America. I knew I wanted new, but I also knew the difficulties with detaching from the old, the comfortable. For once, I was reasonably comfortable in my home, in my town, in my standing in life at that time. But something was missing, and I had realized something will always be missing, no matter where I am or where I go, because something needed to be missing in order for me to search. Without that search, I would have no purpose, no passion.
     There I was, finally, on my Dutch Royal Airlines flight, from LA to Amsterdam. Oh how I wished I could get out and play when I was in Amsterdam, but I accepted that there would be another point in time and space set aside for that. From there, to New Delhi. My drive from Durango, Colorado to Santa Fe was about 4 hours. The train ride from Santa Fe to LA was about 16 hours. The flight from LA to Amsterdam, about 9 hours, and then finally from Amsterdam to Delhi, another 10 hours. I finally got through immigration and customs and got my visa stamped and approved.
     "Where are you, are you here yet?" I seen my phone screen light up with a whatsapp message from my awesome friend Manu from Spain. We were scheduled to arrive around the same time at the airport and was instructed to wait and some colleagues of my friend from India would be picking us up together at the airport. "I am nearing an exit I think, where are you?". Before I received a response, I walked toward the exit and saw him standing at my left. Un abrazo grandisimo for my Spanish friend. He was actually a big reason why I found myself in India, if not the biggest....
     When I was teaching English in the Madrid area in 2014, my friend Manu was in a masters program at Carlos III. He would take me around his friends and classmates and plug me into that social pipeline. From there, I was able to meet my amazing friend Shank, whom sent for me to be at his wedding in India. It is where I met so many amazing people who have stayed a big part of my life. I made good friends with Shank and another amazing friend from Ukraine, Artem. We 3 traveled to Brugge and Brussels Belgium together, during another amazing trip. We had all gotten together every weekend after their classes to play holdem, and to have a few beverages, and then club it up and enjoy Madrid and the nightlife. We had all become very close.
     Manu and I had met while I was attending college at the University of Malaga in Andalusia, Spain back in 2011. As the years passed, he and I stayed close and in contact. At some point, I made it a point to go to Spain at lease once a year. In 2014 while teaching English, I was blessed with family from Spain. I was blessed with the privilege to be in the home of the Solana Mencia's. That will be a whole other blog post I have yet to write about. It was during my time in this home that Manu and I would connect on the weekends and he would connect me to his classmates. I felt like part of the masters program, however, I was not.
     So there is Manu and I at the Delhi airport, a place we had never been to before, looking for our friends colleagues that were supposed to be waiting for us. It was about 4 in the morning mind you, and we were scheduled to have been there about 2 hours earlier. At last, Dinesh, Shwam and Deepak identified us, and us them, and thus began the magical experience of India...
     "Come! we have flowers for you! Welcome to India friends!" proclaimed the 3. They gave us both a huge bouquet of fresh roses and assorted flowers. They proceeded to take us to a few Indian local women who lei'd us with even more fresh flowers. Then they put the dot in between our eyes and we began to take photos. I felt like a star! Never before had I been welcomed in this manner anywhere. The only other time I had felt this euphoria when coming into a new place and situation, was when the father of my home in Spain greeted me in Madrid airport. It was then that I felt like this could really be a trip to remember, what an introduction!
     So there we were, laughing, smiling, taking photos all together and caught in an unforgettable moment of peace, joy and euphoria. I recall the smell in the air, like the whole city had been smoking sheesha and hookah outside. It was smoky and I couldn't believe how alive the place was at 4am! horns going off in the streets, people, yelling, screaming, dancing, hugging. There I was right in the middle of it all with my friend from Spain and 3 new awesome people from Delhi tasked with guiding my journey while there.
     We got in our cab and the 5 of us set out to go from one end of Delhi to the other. We were getting to know one another, and the laughter and joy continued endlessly from all 3 of us interacting and bonding. We get to this hotel, and it is huge and really nice. We get escorted to our room, as Manu and I had a shared room for our time there, by our newly made friends; Dinesh, Shwam and Deepak. I couldn't believe the grandeur of the room. It was a 5 star hotel all paid for already, with an amazing view of northeast Delhi. After the 35+ hours of traveling from one side of the earth to the other, I was ready to sleep, and so Manu and I got some shut eye for the night, not knowing exactly the magical moments we would be in for for the upcoming week.
     I waited until I got to India to select an outfit for the wedding. 1 reason I did this was because just about every single one of my pieces of clothing was dirty, as I had no time to do laundry prior to taking off. The other being I wanted to find something traditional in India, possibly, which I had no idea what that entailed. I relayed this to Shwam and Deepak, and off we went to a market in New Delhi with Manu and an awesome french businessman who we had met who was part of the party. It was quite an adventure.
     I looked to the side of my cab, and about 2 inches from the car was a tuk tuk, an infamous Indian "taxi", honking. To the left, was a horse. This was on what appeared to be a major road, what would be equal to a freeway in the US. Here, you can find horses, cattle, cows, tractors, cars, tuk tuks, and teams of humans carrying cargo. I would later find that if you are lucky, you can even run into elephants on this freeway like road system. I can't tell you how many times I thought we were going to be in some sort of accident, or at least witness one. You would have to spend time on these roads to truly understand what I mean.
     We get to the market and this is where I realize what exactly the term, "population density" truly means. It is DENSE with people all over the place, shoulder to shoulder, with, you guessed it, cars honking and trying to navigate through the crowds. Manu, Deepak and I took off to some shops and I identified the type of dress I desired. It was in contrast to the typical western formal wear of suit and tie, and much more elaborate. The first ones I had come across were very expensive and certainly out of my price range. We found a different shop and some more reasonably priced traditional attire. There I was trying things on. I liked the style and asked what they had in red. Red is my color. In the movie "Gladiator", there is a quote where one of the men tell the Spaniard that red is a color favored by the gods. This quote only validated my love of the color, as red was attached to me since I was a child.
     "I'll take it!" I proclaimed to the shop owner. It was a red Indian male dress with gold flowery accents and I also got a gold like scarf to go with it and some gold pointed shoes. I must admit, I looked pretty legit for being a westerner. When I wore it during the wedding day, I would come to find many of the others and locals would agree. I was super happy. Off we went with our french buddy Stephan to help him find some attire as well. After being unsuccessful in that quest, we got back into the cab to begin another adventure on the streets back to the hotel for an event that evening at an undisclosed location. I have to say just a drive in the city is an adventure in and of itself.
     Later that evening, we get to a super nice elegant place and come to find a bar and a stage with a beautiful electronic scene in the background and Indian music playing. I felt a tad out of place, because everyone was dressed very formally whereas I had a black striped polo ralph lauren on with jeans. No one noticed and it didnt matter because people were here for a cause beyond dress. This would be the first night that most of us got together with our friend the groom, and all the people from the wedding on his side. It is where I had the honor of meeting my friends wonderful father and reuniting with the old friends from that masters program in Madrid from all over.
     I sat to the side and observed with an admiration I couldn't describe as people from every corner of the earth came together. There was people from India, Ukraine, China, France, Russia, Argentina, Germany, Spain, England, and I, the lone American. It didn't matter where any of us were from, what mattered was where we were, and why we were there. I wish the world could take a look at that get together from us all and learn that it doesn't matter which invisible line we were born in. All that matters is the love, peace, light and connections that we are all here to make.
     There we all were having the time of our lives with each other and our friend who would be getting married soon. We seen traditional Indian dancers on stage, an amazing experience for me. We got involved in the dancing. Anyone who knows me, knows I am no dancer. I never do it and when I asked, I find ways around it. Here I was though this night, dancing my ass off in the name of something far greater than I and my reluctance to dance. It turned out to be one of the best nights of my life. Yet it was only the first night, and the first event...
     The next night was more traditional. There was no bar, no alcohol, only people, celebrating, laughter, and dancing. It was an overall happiness that I don't know I had been exposed to before. We had hot chai tea, I think it was, and traditional Indian food galore. I remember seeing the beautiful elaborate Henna art that was being done to some of the girls in our group. I had only heard of the art before and never actually seen it. Then someone convinced me and a buddy to get some done on our hand, which we did. It was beautiful, but I believe traditional only for women haha.
     I remember sitting and speaking with my newly made friend from England about some of our escapades internationally. Next thing I knew, what appeared to be an angel in orange grabbed my hand and said come dance. I was reluctant and she ultimately left without me, and then another came and I couldnt say no this time, she had a microphone. Here I go out to this dancefloor with friends and amazing people I had never met. We danced, and smiled and laughed. And danced, and smiled and laughed. I remember sweating and becoming self conscious. Then I let everything go and danced until my feet hurt and my face hurt from all the smiling and laughing.
     We woke the next day and went on an adventure with one of our friends who was also from India. I believe she and her family owned a factory that made sweets and sold them to local shops. We went to that factory and got to see how it was all made. I remember the delight it brought the workers to bring us the fruits of their labor to have us try. We must have tried 20 different treats, and each time the faces of the workers lit up after an anxious wait. I looked around and made eye contact with some of them, and seen the depths of their joy and happiness and purity. I became delighted and engulfed in the moment. We all then went to grab a bite at what I think was either our friends shop, or one of the shops that brought her products. We all were together, trying new food, sharing, laughing, smiling, bonding. It was so magical for me, as moments like this seem so few and far in between in my life.
     One of the greatest joys I experienced in my life was riding in a tuk tuk. They are 3 wheel small Indian motor vehicles with a small cab with room for 1 driver in the front and a max of perhaps 3 people in the back. I came to find that the drivers at times were what separated them from anything else in the world that I had ever gotten a ride from. Riding in one is an adventure, like a carnival ride almost. Here you are riding in the worlds craziest streets in this small enclosed motorized vehicle, honking every 3 seconds, with someone driving who might have the greatest personality or stories you may have ever came across. I was scared shitless the first one I took. You couldn't get me out of one by the time I left.
     I remember my friend and I had a disagreement about hanging out in the middle of the city taking advice from locals. 2 locals were giving myself and 2 other friends directions to somewhere to find tailored suits. One of my friends just wanted to leave, even if it meant leaving our other 2 friends alone to adventure on their own. I didn't understand at the time, and admittedly became a little agitated. I didn't want to split from our other friends, and I didn't understand his reason for discomfort in the area and situation. Ultimately, we did leave, in a tuk tuk, to meet other friends at a site called Qutub Minar I believe.
     On that ride, I remember explaining that I enjoy traveling alone because I don't need to compromise, or wait, or put no one else but myself in danger. A lot of places I have traveled to, I have done alone. I really do enjoy doing so because I don't have to wait on anyone, I don't have to be so calculated or comfortable, I can go out on random adventures and go explore without limitations that aren't self imposed. I explained this to him and I also explained what I thought he was feeling from my point of view. We came to a mutual understanding and reached our destination and waited to meet up with other friends there. I remember telling him that when we and our group of friends was done doing the site seeing of this site, that I would likely take off alone back to the city to explore on my own. I know he wanted to go and was very worried about me being alone in a city none of us had been to before, but my worry was not getting that alone time that I needed in order to really get lost and explore and find adventure.
     "We are Spanish! We come from a long history of explorers, and navigators and conquerors! It is in our blood!" I proclaimed. I take much pride in my partly Spanish identity, as that is my ancestry. Here we were, with a great chance to be just that, explorers, navigators, fearless in the eyes of the unknown and possible danger. But I don't think we both seen it that way. I told him that we can not stop fate, if something is bad to happen, there will be little, if anything at all, that we can do about it.      All the while, he just wanted us to be together so that we could be safe and comfortable. The image of who I am today, however, was forged in the unknown, the uncomfortable, the unplanned. By the end of the day, I understood his stance on not putting ourselves in shady situations in an unknown world. And I think he understood that in order for my heart to truly beat, I needed to be in those situations at some point or another.
     To conclude the final night prior to the wedding, we all were to go to a club downtown and enjoyed a night all together. Prior to this, I had ventured off on my own away from the group and took a tuk tuk to downtown New Delhi. I remember I had wanted to find souvenirs. I wanted statues of the gods, as I had gotten in Athens Greece in one of my trips over the summer. I remember being a child wanting to collect wrestler toys, and now as a man, I would collect statues of gods wherever I went.
     I wound up in a market and then ultimately stopped at some bar and had a beer and a bite to eat while watching and trying to comprehend the game of cricket. I met with a friend from Ukraine at the central park in the city and from there we found a place to have more beers and a few more appetizers, and then aboard a tuk tuk we went, to try and make it to the Akshardaam, the largest Hindu temple in the world. It closed at 630 and we showed up at 640. So we were unable to get in, so we decided to take the metro back to the hotel before heading downtown.
     This was the last night before the wedding. We drank, we danced, we laughed, we smiled, we bonded, which had become a very common theme for every night here together for us all. Some could have been used to it, I was not, but was embracing of it and grateful. I remember my friends and I standing outside waiting on a cab and conversing. A little child came up to me and tugged at my coat with hands open. I gave her some rupees. Then another, a young boy came and did the same, and I gave him some rupees. I was trying to talk to friends and the same kids kept doing that. To the little girl, I gave the gold watch that I had on. It wasn't real or anything, but my thought was perhaps she could sell it and get something for it. One of my buddies from India was like, "Nooo, don't do that!" and I was responded, but they are just children in need. It was a system though. I explained to them I had just given them both things, and to the one, a watch. She reached into her pocket pulled it out empty and shrugged her shoulders. From then on I didn't think much of it.
     We headed to our hotel and laughed, joked and nearly cried on the way. I was still trying to get a massage, haha. Little did we know, the accumulation of all things and all reasons for being here would come to fruition the next day, on wedding day. I don't think many, if any of us, could have guessed the magic that the next day would bring....