Here I Am Again

Well, It's been one hell of a week!! There must be around 250 people at the ashram now - all served by one computer and one telephone (neither of which works consistently). You have to book a 15-minute slot two days in advance in order to write an e-mail (and it takes about 15 minutes just to write the addresses in the "To" line), and if there happens to be a power shortage during your time-slot - then you have to re-book all over again, for the day after next... This would explain the long silence, after I got you all used to my constant chattering...

BUT TODAY IS OUR DAY OFF !!!

Fridays, they let us out of the cage (hmmm), and I took a bus to a fairly near-by sea-shore town. So here, while all the other tourists are getting massages and buying sea-shells, here I am, once again in front of a computer... Which means I can finally get at my own e-mail address, and spend as much time as I want at it (at least, until the bus leaves to go back to the ashram).

So, what's been going on, you ask? (You're not asking? Please ask.) We had a grand initiation ceremony. One hundred and forty people came up on the stage to get their foreheads smeared with ash, sandalwood paste, and kumkum, which is a red spice (no, not a tea-kettle, as you Israelis would think). We all got our little manuals and 2 uniforms (tee-shirt & drawstring pants). And since then, we've been scurrying about like mice - 6 AM wear the uniform to morning meditation, 8 AM take the uniform off for yoga practice, 10 AM eat, 11 AM chores, put the uniform back on for the 12 o'clock and 2 PM lectures, take it off again for the 4 PM yoga practice, and put it on again for the 8 PM meditation. There are a couple of Israeli girls in my dormitory, and we agreed that it feels just like basic training back in the army. Hard to explain the smile on my face, considering that in addition to this we actually have to hand in homework every day, but there is it - go figure.

And yes, the smile is real - I am still really quite happy about what I'm doing! Can't say that I am completely committed to the cause (I do spot the occasional sign of - well, not quite brainwashing or cult-culture, but - how shall I put it mildly? excess enthusiasm...) - but I've always been pretty good at taking what suits me and leaving the rest, and I have to say that quite a lot really does suit me.

I'm learning some more about Hinduism - we're reading one of the holy scriptures during the 12 o'clock lessons - the "Bhagavad Gita". It really is interesting, and the philosophy behind it is right up my alley. You can easily see the foundation for Buddhism in there, and I like it. Most of the lectures revolve around the idea that the reality we see and relate to is all illusion, that it is sort of a drama that is being "projected" onto a screen, and that the screen is the only constant and real thing there is. And then you really want to know what that screen is, and get a first-hand knowledge of it, but your mind keeps getting distracted by all the great stories that are in the drama. Hard to put into words, I guess. Anyway, I really like it. So one of the ways to get yourself capable of comprehending the "screen" is meditation (just like in Buddhism), and practicing yoga just helps you do that. All this fits just perfectly into my own little philosophy of life, so I (still) feel right at home. I just would probably feel a bit better, if they didn't have the idea that chanting can also get you there. Although some of the tunes are really catchy, I think I could do rather well with less of them.

Considering that it will probably be a week (at least) before I can write again, I want to tell you a few more things that I never got a chance to, before I forget. About that Kanya Kumari trip that we took just before the course started. That last temple that I told you about - the one with all the bells and drums and pavilions? I didn't mention the monkey, and the monkey definitely deserves mention. We are talking here about Hanuman - the monkey god, who, if I am not mistaken, symbolizes devotion. We are also talking about a wooden statue that is at least two stories high, surrounded by a little fence, and a staircase that leads up to the top of the monkey, where his tail curls cutely above his head. No, you don't get to climb up the stairs - that's for the priests to do. What you do get to do is - buy a piece of banana-leaf that has butter in it, hold it close to your heart (to make it your own), and then give it to the priests. They go up the stairs, and smear the butter on the monkey's tail, as an offering (so, you can see where that wood gets it's shining luster). Or, you can do the same with some rosewater (I think it was - I'm already forgetting...) The advantage here, is that the water will drip down the statue, and you can walk around it, catch the water in your hand, drink it and/or smear it on your own head, and this brings benefits to your own self. I have to tell you - it was a real experience to see and hear.

Then there was the pavilion of the nine stars, or planets - I didn't really catch exactly what. You get a metal plate with nine candles, and you walk around the platform of the pavilion nine times, and then you set the plate on the platform. If you're really devout, then you spin around yourself every time you do a twirl round the platform, too. (I suppose the dizzy feeling you get after all this can be attributed to the gods?) The only problem was that there was so much noise going on that I couldn't really hear all the explanations, and they were well worth hearing. Swami Govinda, who was leading the whole "pilgrimage", really loves his country and his heritage, and it shows.

I have to tell you one more thing, that has nothing to do with anything. On our way here (a nice, long, two-hour journey, in a bus that was cleverly engineered to have just one centimeter less leg-room than necessary for you to be able to sit straight), passing the usual banana-bushes and coconut trees, big houses and little houses - we passed by a group of straw-roofed huts that appeared to be built out of mud-bricks. Just as I was thinking that would be a nice picture, I saw a boy drawing water out of a well by one of the huts, wearing, as usual, nothing but his little sheet (dhoti). Maybe my mind was on the poverty of the nation at the moment, but it came at me very strong - the great luxury that this particular boy was enjoying at the moment was not running water or electricity, but the fact that the well was right next door. I swear that the hut nearby was - in totality - smaller than my bedroom. And yet, when he saw us passing in our little bus, his face was transformed for a moment with a look of pure joy (I saw this with my own eyes), and he smiled from ear to ear and waved at us as we "zoomed" (I use the word figuratively, considering the road conditions) through. So - in keeping with our Bhavagad Gita philosophy - what do you really need to keep you happy? It really is relative, and you don't really have to look as far as India to see that. And I'm still thinking about the implications of that.