Friends, Meet My Trip To Spain

Yes We Carnaval!

Well hello there!  Fancy meeting you here on the internet!

I don’t have a lot of time, friends, so this’ll have to be brief, and a bit outdated.  But I wanted to share a little about the beginning of my travels.

The following is just a copy of an email I sent out to friends and family about two weeks ago, right before I started the 10-day Vipassana meditation course that finished up on Saturday.  I won’t go into detail about the course yet, but in short, it was wonderful.  And today, after a brief rest in Barcelona with the same couchsurfing couple I stayed with when I arrived, (they are marvelous, and we’ve since become good friends — a total, total blessing) I’ll head back to the same meditation center to volunteer as a server for the next 10-day course, cooking meals and cleaning for the students.

So, without further ado, here are some words and images.  From now on, I’ll always try to post copies of these mass emails, since the blog is easier to follow for some folks.

Sending love and wishing y’all the greatest happiness!

–katie

———

11 february 2009

dear friends and family,

buenas noches de barcelona!

as most of you know, i´ve embarked for the next year or so on a journey in spain, and tomorrow marks the end of my first week in the country. i came here without a program, without an institution officially backing me, and without a fully-formed idea of how the next year will look. (though i can tell you right now, if i stick around barcelona, the year will probably look like Winston cigarrettes, sprung-from-nature buildings, 3-minutes-apart metro trains, and well-groomed pregnant people enjoying government-sponsored maternity leave.)

since mass emails are not my stong point, i´ll keep it short. mainly, i just want to say thank you for your presence in my life. each of you has given me something vital, something that has made possible this incredible opportunity for growth. some of you teach me not to be ashamed of my desires. some of you inspire me with your genuine, compassionate motivations for travel. (more than tourism; less than ´saving the world.´) some of you show me how to embrace spirituality. others remind me not to take myself so seriously. (key.) and still others have birthed and raised me. (double-key. hi, family! :->) in any case, meditators often dedicate the merit of their practice to other beings, and i want to start out by dedicating to all of you any merit that my travels might generate.

okay, now a little of the nitty gritty. my first week here in barcelona was spent couchsurfing with a sweet young expat couple boasting gorgeous georgia drawls. i signed up to couchsurf with them expecting to sleep under a roof and endure some awkward small talk. one poker night and a three-hour, nine-person, bib-festooned catalunyan feast later, not only do they want me to come back and stay again, but i´m also borrowing camping equipment from friends i met through them. and another small community is born.

falling into the arms of nurturers has been a major blessing during what feels like an unstable time. so far (for the last six days, at least), the lack of structured plans has both helped and haunted me. my attitude toward concrete itineraries has vacillated between: (a) itineraries are desperately needed — they fundamentally determine the success of the trip, and (b) itineraries are essentially unimportant — they possibly obfuscate of the main point of the journey. just when disaster looms (like yesterday, when the meditation center i´d applied to, my main logistical reason for coming to spain, told me i couldn´t get in for another two months), another path opens and balanced perspective is restored. to me, this is a beautiful gift of travel. the future is so clearly out of my control that choices become much simpler. when everything is going to shit, my options are: try again, or try something else. matters will unfold as they unfold. and when i´m not fixated on a particular outcome, i can appreciate each step for its own sake.

por ejemplo. one of my best moments so far was taking the train to the meditation center, unannounced, in the middle of one of their 10-day courses, just to appear in person and see the place with my own eyes. hoping they´d say there was room for me, but mostly just enjoying the process of going there, out of the city to el campo. the desolate train station in palautordera; the apologetic smiles punctuating my lousy spanish; the countryside: the sun, the clouds, the hills, the dogs barking; the getting lost, the truck driver who grinned and pointed uphill; the ascent; the soft, awed folding of my hands as i stood outside the center´s iron yard gate, waiting for someone to notice me; the wry, bulbous cheekbones of the woman who finally did — a woman who appeared to age as she approached; the friendly, non-committal answer; the three-mile walk back to the station on a road of mud; the waiting for the train while peeling a small, precious grapefruit with fingernails the color of blackberry jam. it was a mini pilgrimage — not in a religious way, but in the sense that you can make a pilgrimage anytime, to the grocery store, for example, or to the home of a loved one who has fallen ill. do you know that feeling? it´s one thing i´m hoping the meditation practice will help me to consciously cultivate: that vivid awareness that transforms errands into adventures.

okay, friends, i lied: this is not short — it is, in fact, way way way WAY too long! i am sorry. and i totally understand if you didn´t make it all the way through. for those who did, thanks! (mom, dad, hehe.) tomorrow i begin the 10-day course at the meditation center, called Dhamma Neru Centro de Meditación Vipassana. (three hours after they´d told me no, they called me back and told me yes!) after the course is over, i´m hoping to stay on for two or three more months as a volunteer, more or less, living in the facilities and serving the other students who attend the courses. but until then, the dormitories are full, so it´s the great outdoors for me. hence the newly borrowed camping equipment. :->)

with love,
and hoping this note finds you happy,

katie

———

ps: a few pictures, yeah? ;->) a few from the city, one from s.m.palautordera, where the meditation center is (the building pictured ain´t it, though), and a couple from that banquet, which centered around calçots — a special kind of onion in season right now. they char them over an open flame, and then you pull the slippery, sweet insides out from the outer husk, kind of like you would a crab leg. the whole scene, in fact, definitely had an upscale-crab-shack air to it: bibs, dipping sauces, plates of hollow residuals…delicious.

Gaudi's La Pedrera
Gaudi's La Pedrera
Skeletal Fashion On Diagonál
Skeletal Fashion On Diagonál
Almuerzo de calcots al restaurant Maisa Can Borrell
Almuerzo de calçots al restaurant Maisa Can Borrell
On the stroll after calçots
On the stroll after calçots

Adventures

Wow.  Today I fly to Barcelona.  I don’t know when I’ll be back.  Spain might keep me for a while.

Miraculously, everyone has given me their blessing to go.  What a gift!

I don’t have very much to say, really.  Most of you know the loose reasons for the trip: studying Buddhist meditation; learning Spanish; traveling; participating in various intentional, resource-sharing communities.  Learning different ways of living.  Apprenticing.  Adventuring.  Trying to establish attitudinal habits that will anchor me for decades to come.  And for me, going to a new place is a great way of jump-starting my beginner’s mind.  But even with those general goals as guides, I really have no idea what to expect in the coming year.  Which is exciting — not in the way that a bolt of lightning is exciting, but more like the ebbing at the shore that reveals all the tidepools.  If that makes sense.  I don’t know, I also just really love tidepools, ever since I was little.

Now, let’s talk logistics for a second.  I’m not bringing my computer to Spain.  I’ll have an international phone, but it’ll basically be for coordinating travel while I’m there, or in case of emergency.  I am bringing my trusty stationery and stamps, and I would LOVE to write you letters and postcards when I can.  Just email me your address at katie (dot) loncke (at) gmail (dot) com (which is a new gmail account), and when I make it to an internet cafe, I’ll be all over it.

On the blogospheric tip, I have to give my warmest, strongest recommendation for the most bad-ass fantastic website you’ve ever seen in your life: brownfemipower’s Flip Flopping Joy.  It’s not in my blogroll because I don’t know her, like, personally (though someday…maybe someday…one can hope!), but she’s seriously one of my favorite writers of all time.  An extraordinary teacher and a major inspiration for this project, that’s for sure.

As Kloncke comes to an end (or goes into hibernation — who knows), I want to say thank you so much to everyone who has contributed to it — through comments, emails, links, or simply encouraging me to write.  Lately a few people have said some really kind things about this space, and my earlier blogging at cambridge common, and I just appreciate it so much.  To know that my thoughts have helped bring someone else a little peace or inspiration is…it’s maybe like when you’re a baby, and you’re playing with one of those puzzles with, like, only four or five big pieces that fit into the holes to teach you shapes, or animals, or whatever, and you put one of the pieces into its corresponding slot.  You just sense that something is right with the world.  You look at the filled, wholesome shape for a few seconds…and then you take the piece out of its hole and start testing it in all the other spaces all over again.  Yeah, it’s kinda like that.  An adventure of the best kind.

Sending you all so much love, and wishing you the best in all things for the coming year,

katie

———

To live would be an awfully big adventure.

–Peter Pan

Happy Soul Night

For a going-away present (even though I’m the one leaving…fuck it — I’ll take any excuse to give a dorky gift), I’m making a friend of mine a mixtape.  He always kids me about my cheerfulness, asks me what’s my secret, so the theme of the mix is “happiness.”

  1. Ain’t No Sunshine ——————————- Bill Withers
  2. Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good) ————- Quindon Tarver
  3. Be (Intro) —————————————- Common
  4. The Happy Song (Dum Dum) —————– Otis Redding
  5. Joyful, Joyful ———————————— The St. Francis Choir
  6. Uptight (Everything’s Alright) —————- Stevie Wonder
  7. Joy ———————————————— Talib Kweli
  8. Much More ————————————– De La Soul
  9. Walkin’ My Baby Back Home —————– Nat King Cole
  10. Nothing Even Matters ————————– Lauryn Hill
  11. The Sweetest Gift ——————————– Sade
  12. Alfie ———————————————– Dionne Warwick
  13. Oh Happy Day ———————————- The St. Francis Choir
  14. Ain’t Got No — I Got Life ———————- Nina Simone

Music.  Not just for emo’s anymore!  Speaking of which (music; wresting it from hipsters), a couple friends and I are heading out to “Soul-le-lu-jah,” soul music night at a tiny dance club in my neighborhood.  Best night of the week. We’re all drenched with sweat by the end.

Happy weekend, y’all!  See you soon.

Don’t Make It Happen; Let It Happen

The following is a true story.

After an hour-long stint at my father’s gym today, I showered, dressed, and made my way down the hallway, past the echoing pock of squash courts, toward the exit.  On my right I noticed a room I had never entered before.  The indoor basketball court.  I peered through the glass window to see if it was empty.  It was.  I went in.

Growing up I played lots of organized sports, and basketball was one of them.  I was, to put it kindly, not a strong player.  I recall making a glorious jumpshot, once, from near the right boundary line.  Other than that, my memories are mercifully hazy.  Still, despite my lousiness, I know my way around a court, and this afternoon I decided to check out my free throw skills.

Continue reading

Free Skate

Every winter, Harvard Law School sets up a tiny, free ice rink on an old volleyball court behind the law library.  Two bed-sized bins beside the rink hold dozens of pairs of figure and racing skates, ripe for the borrowing.  Unencumbered by anything resembling pride or shame, Lea, Jonah and I jerked, wobbled, and skidded like true champions until thoroughly and happily exhausted.

Ice skating is by no means in my blood, but that’s one of the reasons I love the (rare) opportunity to do it.  It makes me feel like a child learning to walk.  I’m so delighted by the sheer novelty of the movement, the foreignness and faint danger, and the potential — always enticing, seldom realized — for graceful speed, that I never worry about the fact that I look foolish.  I just smile and laugh a lot.  Of course, good-natured company helps, too.

Bustin’ Out The Bean Soup

Time to brew another giant pot of tea and study for the GRE’s before heading to work.  And all the while, I’ll be cooking up a delicious pot of spicy, garlicky bean soup.  One of my favorites.

What’s that you say?

It’s foolish to try to study and cook at the same time?

Well, high-level multitasker though I am, I fully agree with you.  My kitchen skills aren’t sharp enough yet to fix a meal while accomplishing some other significant job.  (Unless the job is seduction; more on that later.) Continue reading

Laroy’s Tea

wellbetter tea
Clockwise from top: Farmer Al's honey, cayenne, orange peel, rosehips, lemon peel, lemon, echinacea.

Lately I’ve come down with a bit of a winter bug.  One of the pleasurable parts about being sick is that you get to guzzle tons of delicious liquids: orange juice, tea, water.  (Yes, I count water as a delicious drink.  Hydration: key to life.  You heard it here first.)

My friend Laroy, from California, was generous enough to give me a recipe for a wellbetter tea, so I hopped across the street to the local grocery co-op, where I knew they’d stock oddities like rosehips and echinacea.  In bulk.  (Thank you, Cambridge MA.)

A crucial detail about this kind of tea, though, as Laroy explained to me, is that it’s not intended to make you well only when you’re ill.  You’re supposed to drink it consistently.  The philosophy behind preventive medicine and holistic health emphasizes strengthening our bodies in addition to killing disease.  A rather alien concept to our typical aspirin-popping approach, especially since it means long-term, gradual results, not necessarily immediate relief.

If and when we finally socialize health care in the U.S., I hope we’ll be in for a major shift toward preventive medicine and wellness promotion.  From the state’s perspective, it’s far easier to treat a population with a high wellness baseline.  In the nutrition realm, I think we’re already beginning to see signs of a sea change with legislative efforts and the enormous popularity of writers like Michael Pollan. (Not that I fully agree with the dude.  I’ll write specifically on Food[racism/feminism/economics/health/environmentalism] later on, maybe.)

But for many of us, myself included, learning to think of healthiness as an ongoing personal practice — not just the result of genetic luck or sporadic medical intervention — requires some major cognitive rewiring.  It means focusing on protection and correction.

One thing’s certain: it helps when the tea tastes good.  Thanks, Laroy!