Air travel in India

The air travel is actually fine... there are several good companies, and lots of flights to choose from to get you from City A to City B.  And the prices are completely reasonable.  So.... all good.

Great way to book flights inside of India:  http://us.makemytrip.com/   If you have problems/questions as you look at flights, just call them.  They are *really* helpful. If you will check more than one bag, be sure to talk to the makemytrips person about that also!

My flight from Indore to Mumbai was interesting.... or at any rate, *finding* my flight from Indore to Mumbai was interesting!

Now, arriving at the airport... one would go to check the Departures sign, right?

OK, so the Departures sign is all in Devanagari.  (The script for Hindi and Sanskrit.)

I can read Devanagari (the script on the screen)...  slowly and awkwardly, but I can read it.  So.... now I know my gate number.   (And a bit of wandering about would have led me to a Departures sign in English.  I just enjoyed dealing with the first one I found!!!)

Arriving at the gate, I find a helpful sign saying that announcements will not be made at the gate.   Shhhhhh.  In the airport, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.  (Peace, peace, peace).  OK, no problem!   I am a cheerful and resourceful traveler, and I will simply check the gate information!  But I look at the gate information sign and.....

Nothing.   Not a clue.  Blank.

Sigh.

Actually, there was a fair bit of confusion at that particular airport, where a gate was changed (without an announcement, of course) and neither the agent at Gate 1 nor the agent at Gate 2 had a clue about what was going on.  Fortunately, an Indian traveler figured it out, and we all moved to the correct gate.  I was pretty relieved when I actually boarded that plane!!!


 

My favorite works of Indian fiction

These are not in any particular order. (Although I will admit that A Fine Balance is in the number one position for a reason.)

A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry
Set in the 1970's, during the state of emergency in India.  This is not just my favorite work of Indian fiction... it's the best book I have read. 
http://smile.amazon.com/A-Fine-Balance-Rohinton-Mistry/dp/140003065X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994422&sr=8-1&keywords=a+fine+balance

A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth
For an Indian woman (er... girl), the search for a "suitable boy" becomes an all-consuming process.  This classic book is set in the 1950's. 
http://smile.amazon.com/Suitable-Boy-Novel-Modern-Classics/dp/0060786523/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994463&sr=8-1&keywords=a+suitable+boy

The Toss of a Lemon, by Padma Viswanathan
The story of a proper Brahmin widow and her family.  Evocative and engaging.
 http://smile.amazon.com/Toss-Lemon-Padma-Viswanathan-ebook/dp/B003K16PNW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994492&sr=8-1&keywords=toss+of+a+lemon

Sacred Games, by Vikram Chandra
A police story - but so much more than that.  This is a massive novel, and may prove a little hard to get into.... but really worth the effort.
http://smile.amazon.com/Sacred-Games-A-Novel-P-S/dp/0061130362/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994656&sr=8-2&keywords=vikram+chandra

Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard, by Kiran Desai
A rollicking good time.  
http://smile.amazon.com/Hullabaloo-Guava-Orchard-A-Novel/dp/0802144500/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994697&sr=8-1&keywords=guava+orchard

Train to Pakistan, by Khushwant Singh
Set during Partition.  Deeply moving.
 http://smile.amazon.com/Train-Pakistan-Khushwant-Singh/dp/0802132219/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1414161356&sr=8-1&keywords=train+to+pakistan

The Inheritance of Loss, by Kiran Desai
This is a book where I find myself saying "it's like that scene in Inheritance of Loss, where..."  --  the scenes and the characters stayed with me long after I had finished the book.
http://smile.amazon.com/The-Inheritance-Loss-Kiran-Desai/dp/0802142818/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1414161322&sr=8-1&keywords=the+inheritance+of+loss

The Death of Vishnu, by Manil Suri
Vishnu is dying in the stairwell... and the entire book takes place while he is dying.  You will feel like you have met the characters, and at dinner time you may be able to smell the chapattis cooking. (This was Suri's first novel, and I loved it -- but I was disappointed in his other novels.)
http://smile.amazon.com/The-Death-Vishnu-A-Novel/dp/0393342824/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413994731&sr=8-1&keywords=death+of+vishnu

The White Tiger, by Aravind Adiga
Members of my Indian fiction book group all loved this one.  Hard to put down.
http://smile.amazon.com/White-Tiger-Novel-Aravind-Adiga/dp/1416562605/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413994767&sr=1-1&keywords=white+tiger

The Space Between Us, by Thrity Umrigar
Deeply moving story about castes and relationships.  A wonderful read.
http://smile.amazon.com/Space-Between-Us-Thrity-Umrigar/dp/006079156X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413994992&sr=1-1&keywords=the+space+between+us

Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts

Gritty, and a great read.  (I did not like the sequel The Mountain Shadow as well, alas.)

https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B002U5HKZ6/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0

The City of Joy, by Dominique LaPierre.

Non-fiction -- but as easy to read as a novel.  I was so moved by this story.

https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/0446355569/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i10

And a few more books that I really enjoyed

Serious Men, by Manu Joseph
The Sari Shop, by Rupa Bajwa
Everything written by Rohinton Mistry -- all of his books are wonderful
The House of Blue Mangoes, by David Davidar
Tiger Hills, by Sarita Mandanna

The Far Field by Madhuri Vijay  

Driving in India

The slow version.  Traffic in most of the cities includes cars, trucks, three wheelers (autorickshaws, sort of like a golf cart with a yellow roof), two-wheelers, bicycles, pedestrians... and not infrequently, cows, goats, and other animals.  All of this makes for some *massive* traffic jams. This video captures some of the sense of Brownian motion as everyone tries to figure out a way forward:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NZVSiAy6c4

The highway version.  Most of the "highways" are two lanes.  The lane on the right hand side is for oncoming traffic.  The goal of each driver is to pass as many other vehicles as possible.... and since passing puts the driver into the lane facing oncoming traffic, this leads to some interesting situations.  This video captures some of the feeling of constant passing maneuvers:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAWDEcDgbQs

The longest drive of my life was from Indore back to the ashram, in a hired car.  In the dark.  In torrential rain.  With high winds, and trees down all over the place. It was... well, an opportunity for personal growth!

Book review: Sideways on a Scooter, by Miranda Kennedy

I love the title of this book.  In India, there are about a zillion "two-wheelers"  - aka motorcycles.  The vast majority are driven by Indian males, and in many cases a woman is perched sideways behind him on the bike.  (And in *way* too many cases, there are two-three children aboard as well, including a baby in her arms, one on her lap, and one squished between the two adults.)

The "sideways on a scooter" idea is cultural - it is considered improper for a woman to straddle a motorcycle.  On my most recent trip to India, I did see some women driving motorcycles - but they are a decided minority!

So... based on the terrific and evocative title, I started this book with high hopes.  It's hard to put my finger on why I was disappointed.  The author does not follow any sort of a timeline.... the narrative jumps by months and years, with no explanation of the intervening time.

Things I liked:  some of the descriptions are excellent.  This passage is very evocative:

I'd moved around the corner from my old barsati in Nizamuddin, and although my new apartment was fully indoors, we still couldn't stave off the ooze and creep of the humid season.  The spices disintegrated into a soggy mash in their leaky jars.  The chapati bloomed with fungus just hours after Radha made it. Brilliant green mold rose up in a shimmering line along the windowsills.  Millipedes scuttled along the walls, and hordes of mosquitoes hovered around the sink.  The transparent geckos gorged themselves all day on the insects in my kitchen.

And I thought she did a good job with caste distinctions - why it still mattered so, so much to both her servants and to the people she had befriended in India.

Overall, I guess I would give this one a B.... some good sections, but I was unhappy with the uneven and unpredictable jumps in the narrative and in the timeline.

Amazing Grace

I listened to this in the car last night, and was really struck by how strongly it rings true for me:

          Through many dangers, toils and snares
          I have already come;
          'Tis grace has brought me safe thus far
          And grace will lead me home.

I have been thankful for the grace flowing in abundance through my life.... but if I had to pick one grace-filled moment, it would be the moment when I was meditating with my teacher and found that my heart had been torn open with light and love.  I had that feeling very strongly as a child, but lost it along the way... and after that experience with my teacher, never lost it again.  (I wrote about that experience in my first post on this blog.)

The hard part is remembering that we are safe, and grace will lead us home.

One Omkareshwar experience - we drove to Ujjain.  As we drove toward Indore, we could see that we were driving into heavy black storm clouds.    We spent an incredibly long day of driving and visiting spiritual sites in Ujjain, walking around in heavy rain, including some stressful times walking with bare feet in water and mud and who-knows-what.  The sites we visited were really interesting, and Swamiji really knows how to tell a story!, but it was a long day.

The day started at 5AM, fast forward and it's now 6PM, and we are looking at a two+ hour drive back to Omkareshwar, and then a boat ride to the island and home to the ashram.   Right around the time we left Indore and headed for home, the storm really ratcheted up.  The rain was torrential, and for added dramatics, the storm threw in massive thunder and lightning right overhead, and tree-knocking-down winds.  (Did I mention that "It never rains in India at this time of year."  Ha.)  The road out of Indore is unbelievably treacherous, with switchback after switchback in the two lane road.  Now add to that the Indian way of driving, which involves passing everything in your lane by darting in and out of oncoming traffic. (This is nerve-rattling on a GOOD day, in the sunshine, with moderate traffic... )  So there we are, nine souls packed into this SUV, in this terrible storm, darting in and out of oncoming traffic.  After about an hour of this, I said to my friend sitting next to me, "Anybody besides me concerned about how we will cross the river in this storm?"  Because in a severe lightning storm, one (seriously!)  does not want to be in a wooden boat out on a river!  We had no backup plan - once we made the decision to leave Indore, we were committed.  We were in the middle of nowhere... it was not an option to just change the plan and stop at the Holiday Inn for the night.

So we talked about this on and off for about 45 minutes.  We discussed the possibility of walking from the village to the ashram (there is a pedestrian bridge) - but that was not a great plan either.  The walk out to the ashram is hilly, with many many sets of stairs - and we were in a pounding rain with lightning, and no flashlights. No overnight options in the village.... and having the nine of us sleep in the car would certainly be less than ideal!  We did mention the fact that Swamiji would almost certainly have talked to us about "Why are you worried?  Have trust... "

And when we reached the village, the rain began to decrease... and by the time we traveled through the village to the boat dock, the rain had stopped.  And the boatwala was right there where he was supposed to be, at the dock.  We piled into the boat, and had a most peaceful crossing of the Narmada... black sky with a zillion stars overhead, and a horizon still lit by remote lightning flashes. (I think that for the rest of my life, the term "relieved" will bring back the feelings I had that night as our boat crossed that river.) When our tired little group made it to top of the long set of stairs from the landing to the ashram, three or four hours later than expected... we were met with warm hugs and great relief by our friends Steve and Michele, who had not accompanied us to Ujjain.  We all headed for our rooms and washed up... and then one by one, still a little worried, we all found ourselves back at the top of the stairs waiting to greet the other group of friends traveling in another car.  They arrived safely about half an hour later.

So.  What did we all learn from that experience?  My friend said that she learned SO much about letting go and trusting the flow.  I wish I could say that I share that... but mostly I learned that I never never ever want to be out in that kind of severe weather, especially on a dark winding road in India! And that thought brings me back here...

          Through many dangers, toils and snares
          I have already come;
          'Tis grace has brought me safe thus far
          And grace will lead me home.

Would it have made a difference if I had been able to trust the flow?  Well, on the upside, it certainly would have made the adventure less stressful. (Swamiji would probably have thought that the adventure was fun, but he thinks *everything* is fun!)  In the end, we were all (thank you very much, presiding deities) safe and sound, and our worrying had not helped one bit to get us to that state.  I don't know.  It's hard.
 

Sanskrit and Hindi

When you hang out with books about Hinduism, you begin to pick up some Sanskrit words... ahimsa (non-violence), sadhana (the spiritual journey), deva/devi (god/goddess).  So when I went to Divinity School, I signed right up for Sanskrit.

Oh.  Oh my.

So here's the thing about trying to learn Sanskrit.

First, it's written in Devanagari (Devanagari means "Writing of the Gods"), so you have to get past that.  Devanagari is easy to identify, by the bar across the top of the letters.... looks like this:

ॐ भूर्भुवः॒ स्वः॒
तत्स॑वितुर्वरे॑ण्यम्
भ॒र्गो॑ दे॒वस्य॑ धीमहि।
धियो॒ यो नः॑ प्रचो॒दया॑त्॥

Second, Sanskrit has interesting rules, called sandhi.  The first two lines of Sanskrit just above looks like four words, right?  Um, not so fast.  It's actually the first two lines of the Gayatri mantra, including eight words, from the Yajur Veda  Transliterated, it looks like this:

Oṃ bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ

tát savitúr váreṇ(i)yaṃ

bhárgo devásya dhīmahi

dhíyo yó naḥ pracodáyāt

The sandhi rules cause the words to run together....   so, in effect, in that second line,  tat savitur varenyam becomes tatsaviturvarenyam.   (I am absolutely not going to try to explain why specific sandhi rules caused them to run together.  There are many, many sandhi rules.  Dauntingly many.  Staggeringly many.)

Sandhi makes it hard to even identify which words you are trying to translate.  The example above, transliterated ....  has become one long string of characters, tatsaviturvarenyam.  So your first task is to figure out the separate words in that long string of characters.

Third, like Latin, Sanskrit is fully inflected.  This means that every word includes all of the grammatical information about that word in that context.  In English, if we take three words...   Boy throws ball.... and toss them in the air, we have difficulty reconstructing the sentence.  Could be Ball throws boy.  Not a problem with Sanskrit, where Boy would clearly be in nominative case, the subject of the sentence.  Each noun is identified by gender, case, and number (singular, dual, and plural) for each of the eight cases.  This means that there are 24 forms of EVERY noun.  (Mercifully, dual is not used very often... )   Verbs are fun also.

Fourth, Sanskrit is an astonishingly rich language.  One can say the same thing (in English) a dozen different ways in Sanskrit, and one can translate any given Sanskrit into a dozen different English meanings.  I think because of that richness, Sanskrit poetry is unbelievably gorgeous.  In Divinity School, we had a scholar come and read Sansrit poetry for us, and then translate the poems.  That was one of the *best* classes.

But when I left Divinity school after two years of Sanskrit, I gave up.  It was just too challenging.  (One of my friends in Div School had studied Chinese, and said that Sanskrit was *much* more difficult.)

The good news about any of that? I did learn how to read Devanagari, which is also used in Hindi.Sanskrit's relationship to Hindi, is something like the relationship of Latin to Italian.  (Any linguists reading this blog?  Ah, that would be the people yelping in horror about that sentence.)

I have studied Hindi on and off for years... each time I have stopped because it's just too challenging.  The Devanagari is hard.  The sentence structure is nothing like English.... if you are studying a romance language like French, you need to learn many words - but the sentence structures of French and English are very similar.  Native Hindi speakers talk a mile a minute.  (They same the same about English speakers!)

So a couple of things happened when I was in India.  First, I was looking at the Sanskrit for the homa, the fire ceremony.  And one thing led to another, and I found myself talking to a French Sanskritist who put her files on a thumb drive for me.  When I got home and looked at those files - I was fascinated by her work. (And a tiny bit challenged by the fact that the explanatory text was all provided in French, not English.)  Talking with Naniji made me very wistful for Sanskrit.

The other things that happened - I was trying to order a couple of things in a shop, and the shopwala and I were pretty much failing to communicate.  (That ending -walla, or -vala -- means "the person who does this, the person who knows about this.  Can be used with English or Hindi words.  For example, one buys books from the bookwala, or one buys books from the kitaabwala.  One buys chai from the chaiwala, etc.) So after a couple of tries, in some desperation, I decided to try saying it in my clumsy Hindi... and his face lit up, and he got my things for me.   And I got a kick out of being able to read signs written in Devanagari....  including finding many instances where an English word was written in Devanagari rather than being translated at all. 

So I came home all fired up to try - again - with Hindi. Even a little bit... a few words... helps!

Meals and food and eating at the ashram

Meals were very, very simple... breakfast was a bowl of turmeric rice, and lunch and dinner included rice, one or two mild vegetable curries, and usually a chapati (soft flat bread) or poppadum (crisp bread).   We ate from thalis - stainless steel trays - and most folks sat on the floor with the boys.  (We did have a table for the few older hard-to-get-up-and-down-from-the-floor folks... and for most meals, I happily used a chair!)

After prayers (including a few rousing rounds of Hare Krishna!), boys would begin to serve. Boy #1 would offer rice, and scoop some onto the thali.  Boy #2 would offer vegetables.  Boy #3 would offer the other vegetable (if we were having two for that meal).  Boy #4 would offer the bread (again, if we were having bread for that meal).   As Boy #4 moved on, Boy #1's smiling face would reappear, again offering rice.  The food was simple, but there was plenty of it!

Dishwashing was sort of a trip.  Before each meal, each diner picked up a thali and a cup.  The Indians at the ashram ate with their hands.... and for the arent't-they-strange Westerners, a spoon/fork was available.) 

 After the meal, each diner washed his/her own dish, here:

Those taps are cold water.  On a good day, you found a bar of green soap (like Lava) and a plastic scrubby.  This is all a little scary.  The ashram folks do keep an eye on the boys when they are washing their dishes... but even a good rinse with cold water is ... scary.

One night we offered to cook dinner for everyone.  I woke from a nap to find a gang of folks in the guest kitchen chopping vegetables (with the worst, rusty, DULL, bent knives I had ever seen).  I said "What are we cooking?"  They said "Pasta with red sauce."  So I looked at all of the food piled on the counter, where I found about 15 bags of dry pasta, and two (2) small bags of red "pizza sauce." Turns out that the list of requested groceries, and the groceries that were actually delivered, bore virtually no resemblance to one another.    I said to Yvette, "Unless you are thinking that you can pull off the loaves and fishes thing, I really don't see how we are going to feed 60 people with four cups of red sauce!"  And then Michele (I think it was Michele!) had a brilliant idea... we could make pasta aglio e olio... pasta with olive oil and garlic, served with shredded parmesan.  The veggies would all be stir-fried, and mixed with the tomato sauce, and served alongside the pasta.  This all worked wonderfully.  Swamiji got a kick out of our efforts to cook for the community, and really supported us... he had a great time stirring the vegetables and helping us get ready to serve.... but this is a man who finds fun everywhere!  (Photo credit to Josh Hall.)
 

We had to cook outside, because we found out (after we planned and started working on our garlic pasta and onions in the veggies... ) that the ashram does not use garlic and onion.  Sigh.  So we compromised... it was ok for us to use garlic and onions, but we needed to do all of the cooking outside.  I have run into this onion/garlic thing in the past - I have friends who do not eat onion/garlic, and I have cooked for Indian kirtanwallahs in the US who request no onion/garlic in their food. (If you're interested in this, learn more here:  http://kurma.net/essays/e19.html )

We served dinner, bending to put food on each thali.  The second little boy I served stopped me as I served his food... and educated me.  Turns out that the server 1) dips the serving ladle into the pan, 2) scoops up some food, 3) moves ladle over diner's plate, and 4) with a deft turn of the wrist, delivers the food to the thali.  The big spoon never touches the thali.  He and I practiced that move a few more times, and I moved on... a more skilled server than before.   The vegetables were at least somewhat familiar to the boys... different seasoning, but still akin to their usual food.  But the pasta... I was concerned about the Parmesan, a completely new flavor for them.  But when I made my second round of serving, only a very few boys said "no thank you" - which was shown by putting one's hand over the thali, sort of blocking the idea of being served.  Overall, the dinner was a huge success -- fun for us, and fun for the ashram community.  (And I need to figure out a way to get some good knives for that kitchen!)

And a few words about eating and drinking in India in general.  First, there's the water.   I was blessed with a terrific travel nurse before my first trip to India, and she really hammered me about the water.  Don't drink the water.  Ice is water.  Washed produce (like salads) may have water.  The shower is water. (Keep your mouth closed.)  Your toothbrush requires water.  Bottled water is good - but *always* check the seal, because bottles are sometimes refilled and resold.  You want to hear a nice snap when you open the bottle.  If the food is hot enough to burn your mouth, or you opened a container (a bag of snacks, a bottle of water) yourself, you're fine.  In some five star hotels, ALL water is uber-filtered, and completely safe... but the bottled water thing becomes a pretty serious habit.  Street food always looks so good.... and a few times I have indulged - when I could watch the vendor frying my food, so I knew it would be ok.  Not often.  (I bought a cookbook on "Indian Street Food," figuring that if I could not eat it on the street, I could just learn how to cook it!)  The other thing about Indian cooking... if you really like spicy food, you need to work to convince the restaurant folks.... because the going-in assumption is that when an American says "spicy," he or she means a 3 on a heat scale of 1-10.  (This was not an issue at the ashram where the curries were always in the 1-3 range.  We're not talking spicy here!)

I love Indian food.... I like preparing it, I like eating it, I just like it.  It was a treat to eat Indian food for three weeks in India!

Oh, and one more thing... chai.   We had chai pretty much every day, which was very happymaking for me.  I do make chai at home... but whether I grind my own spices or use one of the zillion or so chai teabag options, it's just never as good.  I will admit that I add some agave or honey to my chai at home... but the Indians like their chai sweet (no, really, SWEET), so I try to exercise at least a modicum of moderation on the sweeteners!

Hare Krishna!

The ashram includes an adult spiritual community (usually with guests in residence), plus a school for 500 or so local children, plus a "hostel" where 40 boys live at the ashram and attend the school.  The boys are enthusiastic participants in every aspect of ashram life.   They usually dress in various shades of yellow, orange, saffron, and red.... I asked why, since they are not on a track to become monks.... and the answer was "It's what they want, last year we had lots of blue."  The usual outfit is a dhoti (wraparound fabric worn by indian men plus a shirt... could be an Indian kurta, or a tshirt, or a polo shirt.  (The latter are particular favorites.)

The day begins at dawn at the river.  Around 5:15, one of the staff blows the conch, and that's the wakeup call.  I did not set a clock... but I did wake up many mornings by 5AM, and head right down for the river.  This involved walking down the LONG set of rough-carved steps from the ashram to the landing....alone, in the dark.  I used my cane (as you will read in other posts on this blog, we (apparently) don't need no stinkin' handrails.... ) and a flashlight, and just walked very carefully down the long steps.  Once on the landing, there was only peace... the sound of the river, and faint sounds of bells and conch as the other ashrams on the river also began waking up.  I loved being down at the river to start the day!!!

Around 5:30, I would hear a bit of noise as the boys and staff gathered up at the ashram... then the first round of the Mahamantra would begin...

hare kṛṣṇa hare kṛṣṇa

kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa hare hare

hare rāma hare rāma

rāma rāma hare hare

The mantra would quickly pick up both speed and volume, and within minutes, there would be a cascade of boys heading down the steps, chanting Hare Krishna at full volume and from the fullness of their little hearts.  (I got a kick out of seeing them pouring down the steps in the dark... the very same steps I had transversed one-careful-step-at-a-time just moments before.)  Once they reached the landing, the swami would end the chant and lead them through morning prayer.... and then, with a swoosh of breath and energy, the boys would move back into Hare Krishna, and pour back up the stairs to offer morning worship at the other ashram sites.

A bit later, breakfast.... with prayers, of course... and with a number of enthusiastic rounds of Hare Krishna.

After dinner, arati at the Shiva temple... in arati, the devotees offer light to the deity, and receive that light in return.  (I just spent some time searching for a video to show you this lovely ceremony, but no luck so far.  The best videos are of the massive aratis at the Ganges.... with a large number of priests and enormous lights.. which is not exactly typical of a daily arati!)   So the pujari offers light to the deity, while the gathered devotees sing the evening arati.

 This image (from Google) gives a somewhat more realistic view of what an "everyday" arati might look like!



At the ashram, the evening arati was for Shiva.  At the end of the ceremony, the pujari (leading the ceremony) hands the arati candles to one of the boys, who carefully turns and leaves the temple, taking the light out into the gathered devotees.  The light is offered to each person... and each holds his or her hands right over the flames, then draws that light back across the face and hair.  As the boy completes his rounds, two other boys are picking up the drum and the portable harmonium for... that's right, one more rousing round of Hare Krishna.   The gathered boys and devotees walk around in front of the temple several times, for the first few rounds... while individuals take a moment to bow at the temple.  Then the tempo picks up, and the boys lead everyone around the ashram, ending the day as they had begun the day....now ending the day with prayer and Hare Krishna at each altar.

Then into the kirtan room, where bhajans and kirtan are sung for about two hours.... including just a few more rounds of the Mahamantra.

The ashram at Omkareshwar is not related to ISKCON, and not even particularly dedicated to Lord Krishna... but the Hare Krishna mantra is the heartbeat of the ashram.... every morning, every meal, every evening, every single day. 

Hare Krishna!

A day at the ashram

When I talked about this trip, several people asked me "what will you DO when you're there?"  I said I really did not know!

The ashram does include some structured events that happen at more or less regular times - but there is no pressure whatsoever for anyone to attend any or all of them.

5:30AM  Morning arati at the river.   This is really beautiful, and you can hear the conch shells and the arati bells from other ashrams on the river as the sun begins to rise.  Arati is a ceremony of prayer where light (from arati candles) is offered to God, and then shared back with the devotees.  ( I just tried to find an example on Youtube, but failed.  Will try again when I'm back on my own computer instead of in an "internet cafe.")

5:45 or so.... the little boys and everyone else processes to Hare Krishna Hare Krishna - to the various temples in the ashram.  It's an energetic exercise.  I enjoy the first arati, and then watch happily as they all careen off devotionally to wake the ashram.

6:30   Homa    the vedic fire ceremony.  Very formal.  Led by Swami Sharananananda (Swami Ji)

7::something  - breakfast, a bowl of tumeric rice.

After breakfast, yoga with Swamiji - the master in residence.  Not really hatha yoga, although a few poses are familiar.  Very gentle.

No structure most mornings and afternoons.  Our rooms are off of a lovely covered veranda with an incredible peaceful view of the Narmada River. People read, meditate, do a little yoga, nap, or just enjoy the peace and the view.

12:30  Lunch (vegetable curry, dal, rice.  Maybe a chapati/bread)

4:00 Satsang wth Swamiji (most days) - includes a talk, some meditation, some chanting.  It's a lovely time.

6:30  dinner (same as lunch, maybe two vegetables)

7:00  Evening Arati    begins at the Shiva temple.  Again, I really enjoy this.  And again... after they finish the arati, the whole crowd moves briskly off to offer evening prayer at all of the various temples and altars.  I watch and listen as they energetically head off... and then offer my bow at Shiva's altar and slowly head back down all of those stairs.

7:30  Kirtan - singing the names of God.  All of the little boys participate - and this is one JOYFUL celebration of devotion.

8:45 - 9:00 -- silence in the ashram.  This ashram is in the tradition of a recent Hindu saint, Sri Anandamayi Ma.  Ma said that she did not want anything from her devotees - but that she did request ten minutes of their life every day.  And that ten minutes was HERS, not theirs.  So the ashram goes silent for fifteen minutes (not sure when it expanded from ten to fifteen minutes) while everyone meditates on Sri Anandamayi Ma and her message of love and devotion.

After 9, most folks just go to bed.

Some days there are  more or less organized outings... to temples in the area, to other villages, to meet other holy saints who live and pray on the island.  I'm here with a group of ten, and some additional guests sometimes join us.  Like the daily activities, the outings are optional.

My first thought... my FIRST thought every single morning as I swim up to consciousness from sleep is "I'm in India.:"

I'm sorry that i cannot blog more  - my computer is kaput, and it's a long walk to the nearest public computer.  Will write more when I can!

Someone, somewhere, is wondering where their stairs have all gone

Excellent news, not to worry, I have found them!   Many of the stairs from other areas have apparently migrated here.... I can think of no other explanation for the staggering number of stairs around the ashram! (Of course there is the not-to-be disregarded fact that the ashram is perched on a steep hillside.... )

Some of the ashram's stairs...

Here are the rules I have deduced about stairs at the ashram and the area immediately surrounding the ashram....

1.  Never have one step when several flights of stairs will do.
2,  Steeper stairs are better stairs.
3.  All stairs shall be hewn from rock.
4.  In the ashram, one level shall contain only one worship area.... so that the twice daily tour of a dozen altars involves running up and down many many many stairs.  (Remember those energetic boys from my previous post?)
5 (THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT),,,, When designing a flight of stairs, it is critically important to  maintain variability.  (We would not want anyone to get bored, now would we?) So....  stairs shall vary in height, depth, and surface.  Occasionally, five or six steps will sneak in where the rise and depth are perfectly even... but that is just to lull the climber into a false sense of security, and the Nth step is the height of a small wall.  Actually, this is more disconcerting when descending the stairs.... after a few even steps, one forgets where one is, looks for the Nth step to be the same as N-1, and oops!!!  the actual Nth step is a doozy, jarring loose several old fillings.
6.  Surfaces of the stairs shall be stone, or gravel, or sand, or uneven slabs of rock with patches of dirt.  Again, variety is very very important.
7. Handrails are for sissies.   We don't need no stinkin' handrails.
8. When designing a long, relatively flat path, throw in an occasional single step. It's amusing when people do not realize that the step is there.

I have not used a cane since right after my knee surgery last spring... but man, I made a good decision to bring a cane with me on this trip!!!

And by the way...  these are my absolutely favorite stairs.  Ever.  Note that they go nowhere.  Now *these* are people who appreciate stairs.  You can never have too many stairs.

Out of darkness, light

Lead Us From the Unreal To the Real,
Lead Us From Darkness To Light,
Lead Us From Death To Immortality,
Let There Be Peace Peace Peace. – Brihadaranyaka Upanishad 1.3.28.

I was thinking about that prayer this morning as I sat by the river in the darkness, waiting for the group to arrive for morning prayer.  ("The group" includes a number of adults, and also about thirty VERY enthusiastic young boys.  One could say that they walk down the steps to the river.... but it's actually more of a cascade of energy pouring down the steps to the river.  Moving fast.  In the dark.  On crazy steps... but more about the steps later.)

Anyhow.... many years ago, when I first fell in love with Hinduism, I spent a good deal of time at Kripalu, in Lenox Massachusetts.  Morning prayer began, if I recall correctly, at about 4:30AM.  So the ashram would begin to awaken and stretch and shower.... all in silence.  And since that ashram was the residence of the guru, everyone would don whites.... white saris, white shirts and pants, white kurta/pajama.  So here we all are, in this enormous building (built as a Jesuit seminary eons ago), in almost dark (with only an occasional dim light to mark a turn in the hall, or a stairway.  And we are all in silence, and all in whites, and all in darkness.  And the traffic was silently, whitely, darkly flowing into the main chapel, where everyone would gather for morning arati (offering light to the deities, offering light to the guru), and morning prayer, and then yoga... and one more set of prayers and off into the day (which by now was in fact in daylight).

Years later, I was in Varanasi, walking to the Ganges before sunrise.  Same feeling... all around me, ghostly figures scurrying toward the river in the dark... just glimpses of the people as the moved quickly by me, all drawn to the holy river.   At the river, no sense of organized prayers.... just thousands of devotees praying, praying, praying.... praying to be led from darkness into light, as the sun rose with incredible beauty over the Ganges.

And then today... sitting alone by the Narmada river, immersed in what has become a familiar feeling.. the sense of stillness, and waiting prayerfully for the sun to rise.

The other mantra most associated with the sun, the Gayatri Mantra.  I spent some lovely time yesterday chanting this mantra with some people also staying at the ashram.

In Devanagari:

ॐ भूर्भुवः॒ स्वः ।

तत्स॑वितुर्वरे॑ण्यं ।

भ॒र्गो॑ दे॒वस्य॑ धीमहि। ।

धियो॒ यो नः॑ प्रचो॒दया॑त्॥ ।

Transliterated:

Oṃ bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ

tát savitúr váreṇ(i)yaṃ

bhárgo devásya dhīmahi

dhíyo yó naḥ pracodáyāt

There are an infinite number of translations... I like this one:  "We meditate on the effulgent glory of the divine Light; may he inspire our understanding."

Out of darkness, light.

Today, Pittsburgh.... tomorrow, on my way to India!

I am hoping that I will be able to post blog entries while I'm traveling, although I am still a little fuzzy on exactly how that will work!

I will be in Mumbai for a couple of days, then will be heading off to Omkareshwar.  Here is a blurb about the two weeks we will be spending at the ashram: 

If you want to read more about the island and the temples, just Google Omkareshwar... lots of stuff will come up!

Namaste,

Dorothy

Kripalu and Amrit Desai

The "Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health" was founded as simply "Kripalu," by Yogi Amrit Desai. The ashram was named for Yogi Desai's guru, Swami Kripalvananda. At that time, the disciples called Yogi Desai "Gurudev," and Swami Kripalvananda, "Bapuji."

I first visited the ashram in the mid 1980's. I was completely stressed out with my high tech job, and saw an article about this place with mountains, yoga, and vegetarian food. Sounded like heaven to me. I signed up for a week long class... I don't remember the name, but in general, the class was "fitness and bonding with a group of women." And to get the feel of the place, I signed up for a "Welcome Weekend" a few weeks prior to the class.

Kripalu was built as a Jesuit seminary -- it's a large, blockish building, not particularly attractive -- but located on a hill overlooking a lake. Lovely location, not-so-lovely building.

That first weekend, I found that I liked many things about the ashram - the food, the yoga, the peaceful atmosphere, the lovely surroundings. I was uncomfortable with the enormous attention paid to the guru - virtually every room, every hallway, had a picture of Gurudev, and many also had a picture of Babuji -- and much time was spent bowing to those pictures.... foreheads on the floor. I had never seen anyone "pranam" before - the prayerful bow with forehead on the floor. It was all very strange to me. This was all very strange for me.

The last day of my "Welcome Weekend," Gurudev visited our class. He performed what they called a posture flow -- some years earlier, while Gurudev was still an art student, he practiced hatha yoga. One night that yoga practice spontaneously evolved into a "meditation in motion," where one pose just flowed into the next. I watched the posture flow, and was drawn into that meditation with him -- the room was incredibly still.

I enjoyed my class a few weeks later, and began visiting the ashram regularly for their Rest and Relaxation program. Over time, I also began reading a bit about Hinduism -- I had read "Be Here Now" in the far distant past, and now re-read it -- and also found many other books on Hinduism and Hindu practice. About a year later, I was at the ashram one weekend when Gurudev showed up to give the dharma talk on Saturday night. I had never seen him in person -- and was really attracted by what he had to say. (And bowing to the guru was not seeming so strange to me anymore!)

Some six months after that, Gurudev was leading a weekend workshop in Chicago, and I signed up. I would never have that kind of exposure to him at the ashram in Lenox -- so I just took myself to where he was going to be. The facility for the weekend retreat was pretty bad -- very very run down. The shag rugs were not clean. The food was *terrible.* But I enjoyed his talks, and that was ok. And at one point that weekend, he began a session with a meditation. I closed my eyes and followed his voice - and one minute I was sitting on a dirty shag rug in Chicago, and the next minute I was in the very presence of God. It was a completely transformative moment for me.

The following spring, in a lovely ceremony, I was received as a disciple at Kripalu. 

Years later, Amrit Desai left Kripalu in disgrace... after financial and sexual malfeasance, exacerbated by lies and ugly attempts to cover up his misdeeds.  The devotees who saw him as the next-thing-to-God were devastated.

I am grateful that I never confused the finger pointing at the moon with the moon, and never confused the stained glass with the light shining through it... because (although I certainly concede that this took a whole lot of prayer and deep thought), I am able to remain grateful for Gurudev's gift of shaktipat, and to see the wholly beautiful impact of that shaktipat on my entire life.   

I am going back to India!

I leave on February 11 for three weeks.... several travel days on either end bracketing a two-week stay at an ashram on Omkareshwar.  I've started packing.. or more accurately, I've started thinking about packing and have begun to pile stuff up near suitcases.  I have my reservations, hotel, flight from Mumbai to Indore, shots, and as of this week, visa.

I am not taking a computer with me.  We hear rumors of an Internet cafe about ten minutes away from the ashram... if I have access to a computer and wireless, I will blog here about the trip.

Beyond excited.  WAY beyond excited.