Focus Yoga

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. 

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