Where to begin?  The beginning has already begun.  I've been here (India) three and one half weeks already.  In gestation in the womb of Rishikesh.  Decompressing from Western values, learning Eastern street smarts and scrutinizing the habits I didn't realize I'd packed before I left.  But mostly a lot of romanticized days of Ganga baths and cafes, hashish and contemplation.  And atleast a week of restless, impatient dreaming of the sleeper train taking me from Haridwar(a bus ride down the valley from Rishikesh) to Varanasi.  Throw in a day of feverish guesthouse sickness(cold, clammy marble floors...), a quick romance and a crash course in the Indian scam traditions and my first month of 2016 is well summarized.
Here I've done less yoga, drank more coffee and ate larger meals than I ever did in Oregon.  Sang the last David Bowie songs on the ghats while the Hindus chanted "Hare Krishna" .  And learned more about the occult influence on the Nazi regime than I did about The Rig Veda.  Also, had a pretty stellar pair of pants tailor made.
And what frustration that I couldn't fit into an ashram, go on juice fast or stay silent in Vipassana for ten days.  What disappointment that I don't count beads, play djembe or chant mantra.  What better way to affirm your self as imperfect, worldly and sensuous than to immerse in the world of bliss pilgrims.  More Clown than saint, fool than sage, I feel more myself than ever.