Buying singing bowls

Over spring break my best friend came out for a visit and we headed to Nepal for the week. While there she was on a mission for her mother - to buy a set of seven nested singing bowls. Traditionally made of a copper mix these bowls are said to date back to the time of the Buddha Shakyamuni (560-480 BC). The deep and rich notes that are produced by the larger bowls are considered to be a help in relaxing, thus allowing a person to slip into a meditative state easier. After the first few days of walking around Kathmandu we were not at all sure that we would be able to find a nested set; there were plenty of places that were selling single bowls but nothing that looked like there would be large enough ones for her. Then we took a wrong turn looking for a restauraunt and stumbled across a small store full of brass and copper products, including an entire wall full of singing bowls of various sizes. Thus begins what turned into about a 45 minute experience of selecting singing bowls (and debating if seven of them would weigh too much for our luggage - not if you carry half of them on). To begin with we asked for a set of seven. The man and his assistant began sorting through piles, trying to find the right sizes, gauging how big we wanted the largest one to be. The first set was too small. The second closer. But wait, shouldn't each successive bowl actually be smaller than the one it is inside of? Can we change this one? But once it looked right we also needed to make sure that they sounded good. After all it would be a shame to carry home 20 pounds of bowls only to discover they aren't pleasing to the ear. That is where the vendor really came in, playing each bowl for us - both with a mallet and a stick; raising them up to our ear and out so that we could hear the difference and insisting we touch them to get a sense of the strong vibrations (as you can see in the video below - or here). In the end we did walk out with a set of seven - plus one for me. How could I resist after that type of shopping experience?

Everyday adventures

Sometimes I'm surprised by just what it is that catches me off guard, and how easy it is to have unexpected adventures. Take this morning for example. Who wouldn't want to be prompted out of bed by a 10 piece band lined up along their neighbor's driveway? Especially if it comes complete with horns and drums? I couldn't resist stepping out onto my balcony and enjoying (hmmm...is that the right word?) the free music for a while. And of course taking a short video.

Or there is the experience of going to a friend's rooftop bbq to find that she had hired a Rajasthan Drum Troupe to perform for a good portion of the evening. Four young boys complete with led lights in a see through drum.

Or the fact that every time I see an elephant on the road it completely makes my day...and makes me wonder about where I have chosen to live.

And how can having my morning taxi weave its way through a herd of cows become everyday ordinary?

It makes you wonder what it would take to be really extraordinary.

National rose garden

Between my mom's visit, minicourse with the high school students and Spring Break with my best friend, I have plenty to write about the upcoming weeks...I thought I'd share a mini excursion that mom and I fit in between my school schedule while she was here.

About a 10 minute walk from the school gate, on the route I drive to school every day, is a fenced in half block that is shockingly empty of buildings. With green grass covering the field and rose plants blooming in a pattern I had wanted to get to this garden but just never worked my way to it. When mom met me at school with two hours of downtime I decided it would be the perfect mini outing to fill the time. I was a bit surprised to find that the garden I wanted to visit was actually the National Rose Garden. Maintained by the Rose Society of India the sign at the entrance shared three aims: to disseminate knowledge of rose and rose growing; to encourage, improve, extend the cultivation of the rose by means of scientific trials; to hold exhibitions and other activities.

I'm not sure how much it reaches those goals, but it was a very pleasant green space to wander around and mom and I had a relaxing time literally stopping to smell the roses. My personal favorites were the orange tinged ones, although the mix of pink, red and yellow added to the garden's colorful appeal. Makes me wonder how many other small delights Delhi has to offer that I've never noticed before.

Jantar Mantar, Delhi edition

While my mom was visiting I took the opportunity to visit several places that I had been wanting to get to but had never managed to actually find someone to accompany me. There was one place, though, that I had been purposely putting off until she returned to visit and that was the Jantar Mantar in Delhi. On her first visit we had explored the one in Jaipur and been captivated by the historical astronomy tools that towered over their small courtyard and had wished we had spent a bit more time soaking up the beautiful lines and scientific amazement that came with our visit. I was excited to take mom with me to see how the smaller Jantar Mantar in the middle of New Delhi would compare to what we had see in Jaipur. Made of red sandstone and white marble the contrast in the instruments make them stand out in the middle of the modern day city. Multi-story business buildings tower over the site and yet your attention is captured by these astronomical instruments that date back to 1724. The constructions truly reflect their name: Jantar means yantar or instrument and Mantar formulae. So Jantar Mantar is a site of formulae instruments. The observatory in Delhi is the first one built by Maharaj Jai Singh and as such is it not quite as ambitious in its instruments. There are four main instruments in Delhi. The towering Samrat Yantra functions as a giant sundial. The pleasantly curved Misra Yantra can determine the shortest and longest day of the year as well as provide the exact moment of noon in various locations. The pair of Ram Yantra with their arched rounded construction can measure the altitude and azimuth of different celestial objects. They come as pair with the open spaces of one corresponding to the solid rays of the other enabling an observer to place any shadow. The Jai Prakash Yantra are also a pair that are perfectly complementary. If you could lay them together no space would exist. It acts as a reflection of the sky above and is said to be so accurate that the other instruments were calibrated according to it. In any case, these ancient astronomical instruments are truly something to behold, even if I still can't quite get my head around how precise they still are.