Open Water Certified!

Finally, Open Water Certified!

My forearms burn, like they have rashes and now I know what sunburn means. The end, having completed my OWD requirements and now waiting for certification, feels anticlimactic. So, it had to be said a couple of times in the form of ‘congratulations!’ to let it sink in (haha). I’d been saying it in half serious words that I wanted to get OWD ever since my first dive in 2014. So, it took some real courage, manifested in relatively simple actions - booking a train to go, withdrawing money to pay, sitting with myself poring through the manual, encountering the examination-me emerge from forgotten depths (must get full marks). None of the puns in this post are intended, mostly because so much of talk on land and life is seeped in the metaphors of the sea and navigation. Point is, there was a lot of pressure, mostly internal, much like how the body feels when under water. The liquids inside decompress well but the air cavities need equalizing to release pressure. For those who haven’t dived before, equalizing is a thing you do every few meters as you descend into the water, pop your ears by gulping. The metaphors of pressure are literal in water.
I always liked how the sea or ocean is a force way mightier than any man, so in swimming or diving, the golden rule is to respect your limits and never go beyond them. In a guided recreational dive where they pack and suit you up and as long as you breathe alright, you’ll quickly forget the force of water. Heck, you won’t know what to make of the seriousness of an 18 meter descent or how nitrogen bubbles can fuck you up. Like a child who doesn’t know what fire means. OWD is different, the fishies become secondary. The precise marvel of the silence and, the paradigmatic shift that undersea offers to creatures of land habits and territorial transactions - there’s not so much of that. It’s business. In fact our dives happened in really low visibility and we hardly saw any fish or corals :)
Before I wrap up my emotional “debrief” (:P), partly as a way of appreciating my own recreational choices, I was wondering if any and all sport that requires deep engagement, understanding and respect of natural forces, also makes its practitioner better people - more mindful, considerate and humble🤷🏽‍♀
I’m sure there are awful people who make for great divers technically but the whole concept of buddy-work, the constant awareness of your limits underwater, the amount of backups that a diving system involves - the values designed into diving, I’m full of grateful and kind vibes that make me smile while the certificate is on its way :)
My amazing teacher Mr Praveen BK is wholly responsible for how positive and confident my experience was. I’m so glad I was his first student! If you ever decide to dive or get certified, find him at West Coast Adventures in Kaup, Karnataka!

Year Five/28

A lot of inadequacy and year end fatigue being processed here. Some heartbreak too. I was watching a Katrina Kaif interview after the awful movie 'Zero' and when asked, at a high point in her career, what her biggest fear was, she said it was the fear of not being in a relationship...of not having a family and being married and love (before it's too late). She feared it at sixteen and she feared it at thirty and then it happened, she fell out of the relationship that she thought was 'it'. Of course she was referring to the strange celebrity creature that continues to roam untamed, roving past, ensnaring every woman who might seem on top of her game, leaving her with tattoo imprints and feelings of not enough. Of course, I also very personally wove these stories into my own, asking what or who could be enough for (some) men. Their stories and mine seem to indicate this is a futile quest. But as someone prone to approach things analytically, treat it as a problem, even with some degree of detachment, I find myself swinging between efforts to fix men (sometimes women) and then withdrawing. The withdrawal times have gotten longer, the paean to selfhood has gotten stronger. Sometimes I even offer my own karmic justifications for my bad feelings (hearts broken must be accounted for with equal number of heartbreaks, it's only fair). There are also Warsan Shire, Beyonce, Solange, Beth Gibbons - each accompanying a stage of grief, disappointment, realization and then return to the productive contentment of being self-contained and re-centered. It will happen in time but, to go back to the Kaifkaesque (hehe) heteronormative anxiety of 'family before it's too late', I can safely say that 28 and the year 5 of PhD is probably my year of Inversion, the year when queerness has seemed like so much effort and the year when I have resolutely, statistically fallen off statistical heteronormative charts (your friends are getting married, some have babies, where will you work and when does the phd end, who will wait for you, why have you cut your hair). Queerness doesn't just mean not being straight, a queerness of being, a path of life praxis that you are either put on by what you read and who teaches you, or your own realization that you couldn't fall in line (in time), like many others do. The accompanying warning you don't get is that it is incredibly hard to stand still in uncharted territory. You have to build and rebuild, develop tentative rules and rewards for what is going to feel normal within queer.

Unfortunately I don't have much new to offer by way of this post, if you gave me space I'd start writing about love, self, men, women all the time. I am slightly proud that I have had this blog for ten years now. It's okay, the earlier stuff may make me cringe now but that's okay. If someone asked me for my movie of the year, it would be Una Mujer Fantastica. For a brief teeny bit after I cut my hair I felt something like dysphoria - who you love gender wise is closely associated and sounded off of who you think you are gender wise (fluid or binary). This movie rarely ever lapses into self-doubt, takes the performance of gender (whatever it takes to feel a stable gender identity for the moment, to be alive, productive and to survive) so much as a matter of fact, and then it starts showing the world that  a well adjusted transwoman has to navigate despite her own adjustedness, despite having her priorities and tendencies to give love, draw boundaries, right. It's been a year of gender play and a year of being incredibly close to fantastic, inspiring strong people, including these wonderful online groups where hundreds of queers come together to build survival on a daily basis. I couldn't tell you the details even if I wanted to. But as always, I want to celebrate these things, these acts and individuals of endurance in a hope that I can overcome my own feelings of inadequacy. 

Hawai'i - Big Island when vegetarian and no car (1 week itinerary)

I recently went to Hawaii in the first week of January, to the Big Island (Hawai'i) and had a lovely time. I was on a budget and was traveling with my mom. We also did not rent a car and still had a good time. So I figured that a lot of you who might find yourselves broke, ambitious and vegetarian may find this useful!

Firstly, when you see pictures of gorgeous beaches in Hawaii, they are probably from the more popular islands of O'ahu, Maui or Kaua'i, from what I heard those are the touristy islands with beaches, resorts and definitely more hostels. In that sense, the Big Island is more like countryside. It might help to just read up on the Hawaiian Islands before you go, each island has a nickname and legends associated with it :) For instance, what happens on Niʻihau and why can't people go there?

Coming to the Big Island, it's well, the largest island in the United States and has five volcanoes on it and one that's dead in the ocean, of which three are sort of active and two are taller than Mount Everest (from the ocean floor) but you can also drive up to their peaks (so I did drive up to the peak of the tallest mountain in the world that is also a million years old and I didn't need any special gear). But that's not it, if you choose to see the entire island like we did (in a 12 hour circle tour of the island), you will come to appreciate how these volcanic mountains support drastically different climate and vegetation in different parts of the island. We saw sunny beaches, arid lava rock-scapes, turtles on black sand beaches, rain and fog, lush green valleys and horses and coffee plantations all in 12 hours. I highly recommend the Roberts Hawaii tour even if it's super touch-and-go (if you don't have a car but also, if you aren't self-motivated enough to drive around the island to see every bit of it). This isn't a sponsored recommendation.
Stay
So, where should you live on the island? Some might tell you that Hilo (East coast, more residential, greener) can be quieter and not fun. I didn't stay there but it looked really pretty in the daytime. There's also hostels and more affordable Airbnbs on that side. The West coast is Kona-Kailua (both Hilo and Kona have their own airports) and we chose to stay there because I had to go up and down the West coast for my conference (oh yeah I was there for work ha ha).

We stayed at the Kona Beach Hostel on Walua Road which is at a perfect location, a 7 minute walk from the touristy downtown and the main street - Ali'i Drive. Their website says that dorms are 45USD but I think there's a price difference if you call and land up (it's cheaper). It's quiet, clean, has excellent community support and places to eat nearby.

Eat
Food on the island is expensive because I am assuming it comes from outside. So, most of us in the hostel went shopping to the ABC store nearby and got bread, cheese, butter, fruits, yogurt. You can also get burritos, Indian food and Thai food on Ali'i Drive at walking distance from the hostel (remember, mainlander Vegetarian traveling with her mom). I ate fried pork rind by mistake because Hawaiian people are really generous and shit happens but that's a story for another day. Macadamia nuts are delicious. Macadamia Nut pancakes at Huggos were also delicious (to be shared by at least 2 people - huge portions). Kona coffee is delicious, drink it. There's Walmart and KMart, go there and stock up for the week or day.

See/Do/Get Around
I already mentioned the Island Tour. Since we had no car, we were going to rely on Ubering, buses and kind strangers. Ridesharing is still not very popular or reliable so plan in advance. The public buses are called Hele-On buses, they look old but are really cheap (2USD/ride) and take you really far. It takes some effort to find the bus stops and locals will tell you they aren't reliable. It's true but it's not so bad. Trick: Call the Hele-On customer support and they will give you updated information. Once we figured it out, we took the bus twice, all the way from Kona to Waikoloa Resorts in the North (1 hour by bus, 2 hours if you dare take a scooter - don't). Buses also go only once a day on some routes. Taxis are super expensive, obviously. Hitch-hiking is totally an option if you have time.

Snorkeling with Dolphins
First of all, it's really hard to swim with dolphins. They are fast, the sea is dense and it's really a matter of good luck if you find enough dolphins and good weather. We signed up to go with a company called Hang Loose and our experience wasn't that great unfortunately. I've been on snorkeling and dive excursions before and

Volcano Visit

Trolleys

Also, freshwater caves

Visions of Gideon

A lot of this year, my 2017, was in the company of people who played spoilsports and killjoys. To use Sara Ahmed's terms and words, it takes a lot of effort and courage to be a killjoy, to have a problem and to not take it lying down. Especially when those you have to oppose are your loved ones, colleagues, friends and people who are apparent allies, meaning that they come from and want to be in a position of consensus with you. They want to and have built bridges, they form very important parts of your memories and personhood. I am extrapolating from Ahmed but I think for a lot of us it was a year of being torn and learning to dissent. And, dissenting can be tiring, it feels bitter and violent. I mean who doesn't tire of someone who always has a problem, right? Why does she always have a problem? Why can't she let this go? Why do you have to overthink everything? I am still not sure if constant killjoying will change the world or whether there are more pleasant ways of being a killjoy or what might happen if those leading the way will change their minds. Several things happened that I think all coalesce at this fundamental tug.
My personal year started with such troubles when my parents visited and I have/had strong views on how I want labor to be divided, what I expect of my parents on vacation, how I am not okay with everyone being on auto pilot. It led to a fair amount of bitterness and my conclusion was that I should not forget that parents as people change too, what we otherwise call age but is a combination of patience, interest, wanting space etc. I also realized to some extent that bitterness can be fatal, chronic unhappiness, even if it is maintained as one's refusal to budge against the obstinate unfair world, is enacted in real time upon individuals or groups. Meaning that even if you are raging against the world's toxic masculinity, your first dialog is going to be with your father who in his own right is a complex person, way more than a patriarch. It is tough to gently rally then, without inducing fatal bitterness. So I stepped back and mended some bridges because after all, I am learning too.

I think everything suffers from such 'awkward scales'. You vs the world's macho men, returning to a home full of loved ones shaped by the same world. Not to mention, you, as a fickle, fallible bungler in the world. Reconciling with awkward scales of the university and academia and department and colleagues and family and friends and individual units, no theory could prepare us for what might be an appropriate response when things don't match. What to do?

As the year progressed, there were more strange moments, again a little bit of both, the context and the event. Both change each other. Overall, I realized that I am willing to let go of friends and lovers, with less drama but there are certain things that I just can't stomach. And, I kept holding on to them. My discomfort with ultimatums, my refusal to fall in line so that we could imagine a future. I am not even saying it is radical, I think one has to listen to the gut and then bear the consequences. I also briefly experienced strong feelings again and it was wonderful. Really hard to get over but also a part of me I had forgotten.

Keeping with the title of the post, my favorite film of the year was 'Call me by your name'. And this song by Sufijan Stevens, the way it is filmed, the father's speech in the film, it's all beautiful. It made me appreciate actors a bit more. I still don't understand how films as organizational work produce such brilliant emotive experiences. I guess as I write, I also have more respect for organizational work that makes events happen, anything organizational in the service of sensorial experiences is quite the feat. The film also felt nice because it aligned with my own bittersweet encounter.

I read more than I usually do, this year. I am very proud of it. I am patiently waiting for the reading to filter through me and make home in my words. I am personally grateful to the works of Sara Ahmed, Anna Tsing, Lauren Berlant, Kathi Weeks for their fantastic charged prose. Like it was written from the heart, written in conversation and it felt like I was in dialog too. :)

Meanwhile the later part of the year with its sexual harassment revelations, again in the industry, in the university, elsewhere. I hope we will look back at this year as the year when things crumbled. And for those who took them to heart, like me, for those who felt these stories personally, were reminded of their own stories, very little trust remains in people (but mostly men) and their ability to hold back and nor harm when they can (power). I let all those associations crumble too. Like I said, it was my year of killjoy, dissensus, just refusing to play along. And I can tell you that it shocked many good boys, the ones who said their anger came out of their own hurt, the ones who wanted me to tolerate a bad mood, also those who thought they could be careless with their words and take them back. I just let them go and things went. So much went away, there is so much space.

Couple of days ago I met a childhood friend, my mother was there too. The friend and I were molested together as children for the first time. As soon as she said "do you remember", I said "the man in the sand?" but then she went on to narrate the episode differently from what I remember. For a weird reason in my story, I was the one who rescued us. I trust her story but it was this personal, minor history moment where we proceeded to excavate and re-inscribe everyone we knew in our childhood. We collectively built new memories of these people, so many of them were abusers. We spoke of how the roads of our "safe city" had maps of harassers, going on which road at what time could make people follow you. Lastly, she said how her parents refused to give her a scooter till she was an adult. My parents took the same stand and they are so proud of it, till today. I guess it is a good thing. But then she told her parents how they don't know anything, how riding a cycle means inviting teasing and if they were okay with that, she would bear it. I think she got a scooter finally. My mum just listened in silence. I don't really know what she has to say about this.

So, that was my year. My 27. 

Third Year Ending

I don't have words of my own but only some words that I keep coming back to.

Atoms for Peace - The Eraser

Massive Attack - Paradise Circus

Portishead - Wandering Star

On my plate currently: writing to people who won't give me money, there's only so many ways in which I can beg and grovel, I've run out of them, two sets of revisions, one set of structuring editing revisions, a bunch of polite groveling for support letters and finally deep deep resentment that it's summer and I don't have an extra week to go to Ladakh, Burma, Arunachal or Kutch and I have to be back in time for some more politeness.

Onward to the fourth year.