Last blog from India...sniff, sniff.

Because of lack of internet issues, I'm posting this last blog after returning home. Arrived home mid afternoon yesterday after a 14 hour bus ride, an overnight in Agra, a 4 hour bus ride to Delhi, and two 8 hour plane rides. We seem to be doing pretty well with the time change. I was totally asleep at 7:30pm yesterday, wide awake from 1:00 - 3:30am, but slept nicely till 6:00am. This might be easier than I think...



It's going to be a long haul home. We are sitting in the airport in Delhi. Because HI is coordinating 150 travelers going in many places, we are here a good 7 hours before take off. We can't even get into the terminal for a while longer. (Note after blog...Delhi airport rocks!! I would have gladly hung out here longer. Eva and I each had a great Thai massage....)

Our last few days in Khajuraho had highlights. We cabbed into town and our driver found someone, a relative, to show us around the old part of the city. We went into a house which was pretty cool. The houses are open-air. There is not much wood available for building, but material for bricks is abundant, so most houses are brick covered in cement, for a soft adobe look. Roofs are thatch or corrugated metal, or tile. There are no windows, but generally wood doors. Animals come "inside" at night, in their own space, and the house we saw had about three other small rooms for beds, living space, and such.

We also toured a school. It was a private school that offers a free education to all castes. (while the caste system has been abolished by the government, this area of town still observed it). We received a tour from the principal. Tiny rooms, dirt floors, chalkboards with no real books. Most public schools are K-8. After that students need to choose a track, pretty much determining their future education at that point.

A boy about 13 was following us as we walked around town, striking up conversations with the girls, pretty much focused on Sylvia. At one point he asked me if Sylvia had an email or Facebook, and asked permission to ask her for her address. They exchanged addresses. Sylvia now has a pen pal.

Local boys like to make connections with tourists, for several reasons. One is to learn other languages, and probably specifically English. They practice with tourists. They also hope to make connections and stay in touch via internet/Facebook with hopes that the person might assist them to come to the US someday. A fellow traveller that chatted with a young man on staff in our ashram became such a connection, and was taken home to meet  his family and had a tour of his home. I only saw one young girl in the villages that spoke any English of consequence, but the boys are much, much more aggressive about making connections and practicing.

Shopping here is exhausting. Vendors are relentless, loud, and overwhelming. Shopping is overwhelming to me to begin with, and their sales techniques probably cost them more sales than anything. They talk to you from the moment you exit a car, follow you along the street, shove items in your face, try to make conversation, and in general challenge your sense of good manners as you try to stay polite while wishing they'd go away.

I have not seen much begging, but that must be more prolific in the cities. Most of our traveling has been in smaller villages and countryside.

We did some hiking in the hills, climbing to an abandoned palace, temples, and graves. It was hot and we saw monkeys in the trees.

Yesterday we had a 14 hour bus ride from Khajuraho to Agra. Making it particularly challenging was the fact that the roads were not entirely paved. Most of the country roads are dirt. The dirt compresses, and since the soil here had so much clay, that generally works for the lessor used roads. However, they are filled with ruts. The road we had to take had periodic paving. Apparently the government would contract with companies to pave. They'd lowball the bid, then pave until they ran out of money and abandon the project. The government would hire another group, to the same end. So, you would have a stretch of road that would simply end, leaving our huge tour bus to navigate a road either dirt or so full of potholes we couldn't move faster than about 15 miles per hour. Anyone who wasn't coughing up a storm in our group from the respiratory thing going around was battling nausea. I discovered that the front of the bus is the place to be if you get motion sick. Unfortunately, the girls thought sitting in the back was the cool place to be, until one of my daughters threw up all over with two miles left to go to the hotel. So, the first hour we had back in civilization (hot showers and real beds) was spent negotiating vomit covered clothes and bags.

I realize as I'm writing that my blogs are less about the spiritual aspects of this trip and more about the experience of this type of travel with my family, and our interactions with the people. As a yogi, traveling with HI, spirituality was certainly a part. But, sharing this experience with my family, especially the girls, was the most important thing. Meeting people living an entirely different lifestyle, of a very different culture, and sharing that with the girls was the very best thing. To me, that has a spiritual aspect all it's own.

With the exception of the pouring rain and mud, this has been a really good day.

We are now on the Himalayan Institute's Khajuraho campus. I haven't been able to post as there is no internet connection. Also, I'll say it again, please forgive the poor writing and spelling errors. Conditions are not so comfortable for writing, I'm typing on an iPad on my lap in a tent, and so quality control is weak.

Campus is situated in a valley between two ridges, and it is about 8 kilometers from the town of Khajuraho. It is much quieter than Allahabad. There are no blaring loudspeakers. But, we do hear monkeys screaming at night. This is considered the "jungle" although it is still arid, and not very lush.

We have been to see the temples of Khajuraho, a major tourist attraction. These temples are made of sandstone and the exteriors are completely encrusted with carvings. The carvings are themed in three ascending horizontal layers. The bottom layer represents daily life and activities, basic human existence. These are what the temples seem to be best known for, the erotic carvings. The next two layers ascend in their spiritual emphasis, with the top layer representing spiritual attainment.

We spent time wandering and viewing the temples, and then went outside into the town. The girls had heard rumors of a cafe that served pizza, and there was no rest until we hit that spot. I really wasn't interested at first, but after seeing coffee and cake on the menu, it seemed like a better idea and I have to admit it really filled an empty space nicely.

One of the perks of being here is that we get to hear the spiritual leader of HI, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait speak frequently. His talks are entertaining, a bit rambling, full of stories, and use the new shrine that has just been built as a starting point. Panditji is a scholar of the scriptures and Sanskrit. The shrine is beautiful, and a wonderful place to meditate.

When on a walk on the road outside, Doug and I ran into Panditji and his wife one morning. He pointed to a small family walking through a field back to the road we were on. He said that he and his wife had been watching as they went up to the electric fence of the property and one of the locals working as HI staff handed some food through the fence. He said that hunger is the most painful condition, and that the hungry in India are largely ignored. He said its also challenging to come in and try to help as there are those that will find out and try to extort payment in return for "allowing" the help to go to those in need. It's best to keep your efforts quiet. In America we have soup kitchens and other ways of offering aid, and largely treat those in need with respect, something not done in India.

Sunday
Promises to be sunny, which will help dry things out. One daughter has been suffering from GI issues, and I now have a cold, which is a bit different from the cough that's pervaded camp. All fun in the dampness and rain.

We had a trip to Jata Shankar scheduled yesterday, but because of the rain, only about 35 of our group of 150 elected to go. We were in that group, and I'm so glad we went.    Is a village and shrine built into the side of a mountain. It was about a 2 hour bus ride away, and you know you've reached some sort of rope-end when a two hour bus ride sounds appealing. But, when we arrived, the rain stopped for the most part, making things muddy but manageable. The village is beautiful, colorful and crumbly, with a layer of trash and mud covering the ground, colorful paintings and tiles on the walls, and monkeys climbing the rooftops. We climbed stairs to the top, where there was a small shrine, and where they kept a very auspicious bull. This bull was born with three eyes, and developed three horns. He is kept very well, and my girls enjoyed that.

On the way down the mountain, we turned off the main path into a small shrine built into the mountainside, like a small cave. We took off our shoes and went inside, where the swami and several other men were playing a shruti box, drums, tingshaws (spelled incorrectly, I know) and some other instruments, singing kirtan-style chants. We sat on the stone floor. There was a fire built off to one side, and it was smoky. The music was wonderful, and we sat there for the longest time. The swami offered to let us play his shruti box and when he decided he played enough, he went into the little shrine. We made our offerings, he blessed us, and we went on our way.

There were rows of little stands offering cheap plastic jewelry, bindis, etc., and while there wasn't much we were really interested in, we bought some things from several stands.

A high point is always the friendliness of people. We are like celebrities, often stopped and asked to have pictures taken. Rows of young boys line up to shake the girl's hands while a friend snaps a picture. Or, they want us to take a picture of them with our camera. They laugh and admire the results, then thank us, not caring that they'll never see the picture again, just happy it exists.

We arrived home fulfilled and in time for chai. I went to fill a bucket with hot water to wash out muddy socks, and began popping Thieves for the cold I felt coming on. Another cold night last night, but the sun is now out, and it's going to be a good day.

This may not be a great shot of Sylvia at bat during this
Game of cricket, but it's easily the high point of this
Trip for me, so I had to include.

The interest goes both ways.

Okay, today was the best day yet.

The past couple of days have been more quiet. In a way. A couple in our group got married in a Vedic ceremony in the sacred grove. Some local farmers brought camels here to the ashram, and people could have rides. There was a havan, a fire ceremony in the sacred grove to mark the auspicious bathing day. There are several of these throughout the four months of the Mela, and if it wasn't crowded and energetic before, all stops are pulled out for this.

Unfortunately, the crowds led to some unfortunate events. There was an accident at a train station, and also a bridge at the Mela collapsed. These accidents created over 30 deaths; I think some people were trampled in the crowds.

Because of this, the police are trying to reduce the crowds and get people out of the Mela, and an event we had planned for today, to go to one of the camps to hear a spiritual teacher, a swami speak was canceled. Fortunately, we do have the good fortune of having Sandy Anderson and Rolf Sovik here, and I just finished an asana with Sandy, and will do a meditation with Rolf soon.

However, the real high point, of my whole pilgrimage really, so far, was this morning. Doug, and girls and myself signed out and headed off the ashram grounds for a walk. We walked along the Ganges for a while. There were people bathing along the shore. Some women were very friendly and offered to let us join their bathing group (I'm pretty sure that's what they were saying) but we politely declined. Sometimes it's nice that there is a bit of a communication gap.

Sylvia had lost a tooth a day or two ago, and she wanted to throw it into the Ganges. So, we did. I told her to say a little prayer as she tossed her tooth in, as an offering to the Ganges. She has left a bit of herself in India.

We turned in and followed a path into the prairie. We saw the farmer grazing his two camel. We saw the herd of antelope-type animals (I don't know how to spell it, but sylvia told me they are called "neel-guy". I'll figure it out later.) Then we got closer into the village.

I think that a lot of the village stayed out of sight when our group came through a couple days ago. Things were really bustling today. It was laundry day (although maybe everyday is laundry day, judging by what I've seen). Of course kids were all over us. As we stopped to admire the paintings of Hanuman and Shiva on one house, an older boy came up to us. He lived there and could speak some English. We talked a while about the paintings, the shrine that was built outside, how the house had been his grandfather's. Then he invited us in the back to sit and have tea. I was thrilled to sit, but was afraid to do the tea. We went back into his yard and he pulled out three plastic chairs and a little wooden bench so the four of us could sit down. We did and a big group of kids and older boys gathered around to stare at us. We admired a young cow that was in the yard. He said it was three months old, but I have to wonder about the translation there; it looked like three weeks or maybe days to me. It was tiny. We did the kind of chat thing for a while, then we indicated we needed to go. He was adamant that they were making tea for us. I so, so, SO wish we could have felt comfortable taking tea with them, but the day before I was as tethered to the outhouse with a GI issue as this little calf was to his post, and tomorrow we have a several hour bus ride. I just didn't feel I could risk it. But, that is my biggest regret on this trip so far, that I didn't feel I could risk a cup of tea with these wonderful people.

The boy didn't seem too offended, and followed us down the road a while longer. A nice crowd grouped around us and accompanied us as we walked. We ran into a man that spoke English and got directions to the next village.

As  we entered the village there was a group of boys playing cricket in an open space. They seemed to be inviting us to join in. This was one invite we were eager to accept. Doug was the first at bat, then we all got a turn. As we played, I could see small groups gathering off in the distance watching us. Over time (yes, we played for quite a while) they came over to watch. There was a bit pile of sand, and I sat down on it and some women in their saris and kids sat on the top. It felt just like home: little league moms watching from the bleachers. At one point I turned around and said "good game, huh?) to one of the women, who had no idea what I was saying. I cheered at totally inappropriate times, and am still not sure what the rules were, but I'm pretty sure I'm good at cricket and impressed them very much.

After handshakes (and we've been teaching high-fives also, which is one thing that seems to catch on quick) we left.

Later in the village we asked directions back to the Ganges and two boys took us into a "side street" path, some got to see a little behind the scenes. An old man bathing under a pump. Two little toddlers taking a bucket bath, and fighting when one splashes the other.  The villages are really quite beautiful. Earthy, natural.

We never walked far without picking up some company, mostly young boys. Two followed us as we hit the river again. We didn't ever really talk to them, except to clap as they showed off a little and jumped over a particularly large ravine. They stayed behind us as we walked. Suddenly I heard them calling "good-by!" and we turned around to wave and yell back. They called  "good-by!" and "thank-you!"  to us. I. Loved. It.

Yesterday was my favorite so far. Instead of heading into the throngs of the Mela, we went in the other direction. We walked along the Ganges for a while then veered off into a large prairie and walked along a path toward a village. Here we saw sheepherders with large flocks, and herds of an antelope-type animal. It was so nice after the heat, dust and noise of the Mela.

The village we were walking through was expecting us. As Westerners only walk through a couple times a year, generally with the Himalayan Institute, HI went there the day before to tell them we'd be coming. That way they could stay in and out of sight if they wanted. However, a lot of villagers were out, and it was wonderful.

This village is a "healthy" village, meaning not a poor one. They do have electricity, although from what I could see it looked like maybe a bare bulb or two per household. Houses are clay or brick with thatch roofs. Each house has several  cattle, usually tied to a ground post in the yard. I think I heard some goats inside the structures, but I didn't see any chickens, as Hindus generally do not eat eggs as well as meat. 

It definitely felt awkward taking photos; on one hand I don't want to leave without something  to remember this walk, on the other it feels intrusive. However, again, the curiosity seems to go both ways. Several women and I made eye contact and smiled at each other; I think if I spoke Hindi or they English it would have been wonderful, but not so exotic. One woman spoke enthusiastically at Doug and I as we were admiring her cow; we had no idea what she was saying, but it seemed to be encouraging us to take a picture. So, we did, and right on cue as we snapped the shutter it let out a huge bellow. We jumped back and she laughed hysterically. I think she had that cow well trained.

Kids, of course, are the great equalizer, and they LOVE having their picture taken. They run up saying "hello!" "hello!" "hi!" and ask for a picture, which you then show to them on the screen and they laugh. They shake hands and generally love visitors.

My favorite was a boy who met us on the road with his camel. He let me pet it, and then asked if we wanted to see it lie down. Our guide spoke Hindi and everyone said, no, because it looks like so much effort for a camel to get up and down. But the boy really wanted to show off for us, so finally he ignored us and started saying "sit!" "sit!" and the camel with much effort lied down on the road. Then he got up and the two of them ran off, camel on a leash like a dog, into the field.

While I'm loving the cultural part of this trip, there are also lectures in the ashram on the symbolism of this place, visits to temples, and lectures on meditation. I am particularly enjoying Rolf Sovik's lectures on meditation and mantra.

Finally, weather has its highs and lows. Daytime temperatures are beautiful, sunny, high 70s. But nighttime has been quite cold, high 40s. As Sunday is an auspicious bathing day at the Mela, crowds are growing, and the fervor is building. This means that any hour of the night I wake because of cold, it'll be equally tough to go back to sleep due to noise. 2:00, 4:00am, the Mela never sleeps, and from 4 kilometers away, the din is consistent.

Wednesday

Yesterday we walked to the Kumbha Mela. We walked along the Ganges bank. The Ganges rises about 20 feet during the monsoon season, then recedes in October. It's currently at its lowest level, which means all the debris it carries during the monsoon is left on its banks afterward. Bones, garbage, and other less pleasant things need to be navigated.

We walked to the center of the Mela, the Sangam. This is where the three rivers meet. Rows of sandbags are stacked to protect the shore, and pilgrims gather to bathe, meditate, and make offerings. A little girl approached us with a basket. In it were little boats made out of newspaper, filled with marigolds and some incense. The girls bought two and made their offerings on the bank.

The Mela is filled with priests, sages, and those on a multitude of spiritual paths. Some are not authentic; they might be simply dressed up for the event like Trekkies at a convention, some are shams that offer "blessings" then want money. I received a blessing from a renunciate who sat by a post carrying a ring of bones and some sort of wooden plaque. I'm not certain of his authenticity, but he was so interesting looking I couldn't resist.

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Radiating out from the Sangam is the rest of the Mela, the festival. Gurus come and claim a spot for their "camp" and set up huge theatre-like areas. There is a stage in the front, and a large area for followers to sit. These can be very elaborate, with an amusement park like quality. Their teachings are broadcast over loudspeakers, and apparently there is some competition to be the loudest . Unfortunately for us, I've only heard Hindi spoken, so going in and listening isn't so informative.

Between the camps are vendors selling either supplies for people camping there, (pots, food, supplies), souvenirs, mala beads, etc.

There are beggars. Some are clearly born with deformations they've turned into a livelihood. Others have performed austerities that have created deformations. I only saw one that I could identify, but know that this was a practice among yogis in the past to earn money. The man I saw was laying on his belly, having stacked bags of rice on his back over folded back legs. His spine was twisted and his legs deeply bent and shriveled.

I felt a little guilty and embarrassed to want to take pictures of all the colorful people, from those who obviously wanted to be on display, to those who were there there as pilgrims, but equally interesting to me. Some were clearly poor, and had made great sacrifice to take trains or buses or walk in to he here. 

But I felt a little better after I realized that the curiosity went both ways. While many people didn't seem to give us much notice, others clearly were curious of us and not embarrassed to stare. Some would follow us and take pictures. In one case, there was a young girl who appeared to be with a boyfriend, she was maybe about 15 or a little older. She was sophisticated enough to be carrying a cell phone that could take pictures and videos. She was so intrigued with my girls, particularly Eva. She started taking pictures, then got bold and asked Eva if she could have a picture taken with her. Her boyfriend snapped the shot, then then Sylvia and our friend Riley were included, then we continued. But the girl continued to follow us, walking behind Eva and videoing her as she walked. This went on for a long time, until it got uncomfortable. She just couldn't get enough.

That was cute, but later Doug walked ahead with the girls and a similar thing happened, but this time with a group of teenage boys. The paternal Doug was pretty concerned about this, and kept trying to break out of the group that was surrounding them, but the boys just adjusted their pace. Ultimately, it was fine, innocent curiosity, if maybe a bit inappropriate by our standards.

These incidents were really helpful in processing the sights and oddities of the Mela, for all of us, but especially the girls. Of course it makes them feel like little celebrities, but it also humanizes all of the very different people we are seeing. Rather than feeling like spectators viewing an exhibit, with the curious energy only going one way, we have become a participating part of the spectacle, to some degree. 

...?..

I am sitting in my eco-hut writing this. In the background is the sound of another camp in heavy, over-the-loudspeaker chant mode. This will go on all night. From several directions. All night. Long.

Today we took boats to the point where the Ganges, the Sarasvati and the Yamuna.  meet. This is an important area in the Kumbha Mela, the point where the nectar of immortality, the elixir of life was sourced. This elixir is happiness, and it it the point to take a dip, if you dare to dip in a body of water that currently has e-coli levels 100 times above the Indian governments acceptable level. Not saying anything about the U.S. governments acceptable level. But after watching our local boatmen paddliing against the current, pulling us along shore, dipping in and out of the water to get us there, even reaching over the side for a sip when thirsty, it seemed almost insulting to not dip a hand in and scoop a little on the top of the head for a symbolic blessing. But I think most of us took a long, luxurious bucket shower afterward.

Speaking of the amenities, yes, shower stalls are private, with buckets. You fill the buckets in another area with some hot water. In each stall is a spigot of cold. You mix until you have the ideal temp. Today I showered, washed hair, and washed clothes in about a half bucket of water, plus cold to rinse. There are outhouses with flushing toilets. We sleep in grass huts with mosquito nets. So we are pretty much outside all the time.

The girls have made two good friends their age here, so they are now officially having a blast. I also think it helps them process some of the things they are seeing,to discuss with a peer. After driving in and seeing the poverty, and craziness, and (gasp!) dogs with udders (pretty much all dogs seem to be feral here and thus have many litters, unlike dogs at home) one daughter was a little teary and homesick for "western civilization". A good friend makes all the difference in the world.

First few days...

february 3
Arrived in Delhi to hop on s bus for a four hour ride through the densest fog I've ever seen. Absolutely no scenery to enjoy on the way to Agra, just thick fog.

Started to break up just as we reached Agra. I absolutely love the street scenes. Is everything I heard; loud, chaotic, dirty, but it's also a big group scene. Whereas at home when you see throngs of people on the street, generally they are walking somewhere, either by themselves or with one other person. Here it's much more interactive. Lots of groups of people (mostly men, really) sitting, working, walking.

Cars aren't rare, but what I see is that bikes and motorcycles are the main modes of transportation. Whole families on one motorcycle. Mom rides sidesaddle on the back, then a kid or two then Dad driving, then the baby placed, naturally, right up front.

Bikes are similar, they have a flat book rack on the back and the passenger sits there.

Then there is the animals. There are tons of stray dogs, all over. Even litters of puppies. Of course there are cows wandering, eating the trash alongside the dogs. A lot of horses to pull carts. I have no idea what breed or mix these are, but they are the thinnest, most narrow-chested horses I've ever seen. Ribs showing more than any animal I've seen at home.

Possible the most exotic animal se've seen on the streets so far are camel pulling carts. And baboons roaming in packs.

The big field trip that took us into the city was the Taj Mahal. Being a Sunday, it was packed like Disney World on spring break. the Taj is just like the photos. One thing I'd say is that it has a very transparent quality. In photos we attempted from further away, it seemed to actually fade away.

The next day, yesterday, we got on a huge tourist bus to bring our group here to Allahabad. We encountered our first Indian style toilets, which one daughter proudly navigated. Ten hours later we are here.