Writing
Kolkata, India – 24.04.24
India is the first country that I am unable to grasp or understand. Not that I immediately understand all others, but here the extremes are so distant, and the contradictions so absurd, that the mind must capitulate, surrender, and, despite internal disagreement, accept the existing state of affairs.
Because what can one do, seeing hundreds of people sleeping in dirt and rags every day on perpetually congested, incessantly honking streets; when towering walls of concrete, adorned with barbed wire, separate them from exquisite restaurants, expensive evening attire, splendor, and luxury? When cows, revered as sacred, roam freely among the latest models of Lexus cars? When the heat pouring from the sky freezes on your neck just after entering a decidedly too heavily air-conditioned club or taxi? There is too much of everything here, too loud, too intense – a true human element.
Are the Indians themselves able to grasp this? Or perhaps they endure in a sense of higher necessity for centuries? I have the impression that both the poor and the rich, although the gap between them seems to have no beginning or end, accept this in silence. Although in reality, they probably don’t think about it at all. Perhaps the element is so vast that only to me – a guest from a different cultural circle – such thoughts come to mind.
During a recent visit to the Polish embassy, we were warned about the crowd. When something unexpected happens, it’s better to leave quickly, as the mass of people, still prone to lynching, can react in an unpredictable way. It seemed strange to me, as individual units seem calm and friendly.
Although I would very much like to somehow conclude my reasoning, no matter how hard I try, I cannot. It simply cannot be concluded. Logic must suffer defeat and capitulate before madness creeps in through the hole in the whole. And there are probably an infinite number of these holes. If it is true, as some believe, that we live in a simulation, then here it has taken on an amorphous, ever-transmuting form.
On the horizon of my considerations, two Hindu deities loom, whose temples can be found at every step – Shakti and Shiva – the cosmic marriage, an infinite field of vibrating energy and a point of consciousness. Together they create a circle, the center of which is everywhere, and the circumference nowhere. And the more I think about it, the less certain I am what it actually means.
Annapurna Base Camp, Himalayas – 26.09.23
Emerging from the clouds like whales from the ocean, mysterious and inaccessible, standing majestically above space and time. Massive rock and ice formations, according to traditional beliefs, served as abodes of gods. It couldn’t be otherwise.
The impressive peak of Machhapuchhare (translated as “fish tail” – an obvious resemblance) dominates the entire route to the Annapurna Sanctuary. During five days of intense trekking in the rain (8-9 hours a day), I saw it only a few times. Nepalis consider it a sacred mountain, and, according to official sources, it has never been conquered.
On the other hand, Annapurna I, at the base of which I spent a night at an altitude of 4130 meters, is considered one of the most challenging eight-thousanders, with a 38% mortality rate among climbers.
What drives a person to such challenges? Is it an attempt to justify one’s existence? Or perhaps sheer pride compels us to reach further, for more? Regardless of the answers to these questions, when I stood before these towering peaks, whose enormity no photo can capture, I felt the urge to challenge them myself.
Perhaps that is our nature – we will keep trying, and the gods feasting among the peaks will sometimes invite chosen ones to the table, while others may be cast into the abyss.
Kathmandu, Nepal – 17.09.23
Buddha’s eyes gazing from the height of the Boudhanath Stupa upon the worshippers. A crowd of faithful moving slowly around in rhythm with their prayers and intentions, clockwise – contrary to the legend that Buddha himself turned counterclockwise…
It’s been almost a week since my arrival in the capital of Nepal – Kathmandu. This place is filled with contrasts, strongly influenced by neighboring cultures, seemingly chaotic but full of incredibly friendly and hospitable people. Hundreds of temples of various Hindu and Buddhist sects submerged in tight and hasty construction. On the streets, litter mixes with offerings for the gods laid directly on the sidewalk. The scent of incense blends with dense exhaust fumes; what is divine permeates what is human (or perhaps vice versa?). Yet, everything seems to function in its proper rhythm, probably for millennia. Although some Nepalis try to emulate Western patterns, fortunately, they are deeply steeped in their culture and tradition.
Leading workshops with students at Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory, where I was invited to, I try to remind them of this richness, encouraging them to incorporate it into the music they play. I hope that the pursuit of Western standards will not become a reason for uprooting their traditions.
Salkantay Trek, Andes – 15.12.22
Some memories from Peru, from the trek Salkantay – 4630 meters above sea level (route: Soreypampa – Machu Picchu), which I managed to pass in four very demanding days, with altitude sickness and, as it turned out later, with the most popular virus of recent years, which this season has fortunately already lost its celebrity status….
However, this was not the end of the surprises that awaited me! When I reached Machu Picchu, I noticed to my surprise that I was almost alone in one of the most tourist-heavy places in the world! After a while, even the guards guarding the monument disappeared. A thought flashed through my head that if I wanted to, I could camp there and stay overnight. It turned out that during my mountain trek, riots broke out in Peru and the whole country was immersed in protests. Nationwide road and airport blockades caused my stay to be extended somewhat. The protesters were determined enough to throw a several-ton boulder onto the tracks where the evacuation train route from Aguas Calientes (where I was trapped for several days) ran. Thanks to this “attraction,” I had to travel the rest of the route on foot, on the tracks just above the cliff, in the middle of the night, still weakened by illness. Well, the main thing is that I managed to return safely to the country.
Amazon, Peru – 9.12.22
The last three weeks were spent in the Amazon jungle, including two – on a demanding shamanic diet (Master Plant Diet) with Maestra Matilda from the Shipibo tribe. I adhered to a diet with a plant with a gracefully sounding name – Chuchuhuasi (Maytenus krukovii).
A year ago, when I faced serious health problems and encountered, what could be jokingly called, the “healthcare system,” I decided that I would no longer participate in this charade and began to look for alternative methods. This path led me precisely here – to the Amazon, where shamans still cultivate knowledge passed down through generations about plants that Western medicine often lacks a comprehensive understanding of.
I must admit it was not an easy time. The diet was very demanding, and the close presence of venomous spiders, tarantulas, snakes, as well as lizards, geckos, and a whole swarm of difficult-to-identify tropical fauna, required constant vigilance but also grew my respect for the indigenous inhabitants of these areas and their art of adaptation. On the other hand, the flourishing richness of nature inspired and gave strength. I can boldly say that these were the most incredibly weeks I have ever lived through. I leave the jungle richer not only in knowledge and experience, but above all, I feel much better! Health is returning, and with it, I will be able to return to intense activities, which I think I missed the most in the past year. So, if anyone wonders if it’s worth stepping out of their comfort zone and coming here, I will answer without hesitation – it’s worth it!
Lastly, I will mention one thing that absolutely surprised and delighted me here, namely the Shipibo musical tradition! Ceremonial Songs (Icaros) performed by Maestra Matilda and Maestro Francisco emanated with the depth of message and virtuosity that I did not expect to hear. Perhaps it is in these melodies that the greatest mystery and power of their unique method lie!
