Ashrams

Hello all,

Last night was fairly quiet. I took a pretty long afternoon nap with kids because we were all so tired from running around in the hot sun. The children slowly awoke, and we got some non-active games going. We played a lot of this memory game and also this number game, which I enjoy a lot. All the little ones that don't know how to play huddle behind me and whisper the pieces that I have to each other, and whenever I make a play they pat me on the back and say "ah, very good sir, very good," even though they don't really know what is happening. The game isn't too competitive, though, and usually all the players show eachother their hands and we help them figure out the best move. Naveen's grandfather came and visited him, and brought him a little bag of these seeds to snack on. Naveen shared them with everyone, and offered some to me. Normally I only take food from Kumari, but I had had these seeds before, and figured it was okay. They tasted like gasoline, and I barely ate one and it made me feel bad. One of the older boys tried one and got Kumari because they weren't good. Kumari threw them away (I felt bad for Naveen), but it was too late for me. Luckily I didn't vomit or anything. Apparently Naveen, who is five or six, has a habit of making other kids sick; one time he found colorful tablets on his way home from school, and gave them to the other children saying it was chocolate. He honestly thought it was candy, but it was medicine and several of the kids got sick.

Later I went to the kitchen and Kumari tought me how to make chappatis, which are kind of like tortillas, from scratch. She also showed me how to make palia. I am starting to figure out all of the foods, and hopefully when I come home I will know how to make it all too. Kumari has promised that first I can watch and take notes as she makes a dish, and the next time she makes the same thing I will help. I have also graduated to the full Indian spice level. At first Kumari used no chili in my food, and I told her that I was surprised the food was not spicy at all. When I found out she was holding back on me, I told her no, I wanted the full Indian flavor. So little by little she has added more chili to my food, and every time she is terrified it will be too hot. At this time I am even eating James' cooking, which sometimes Kumari complains of being too hot.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night, probably because I took such a long and late nap. I woke up a little later than normal, 9 am, and Kumari insisted that I must stay home and rest because I didn't feel well the other evening. I, however, had wanted to see the ashrams today, and convinced her that I was fine. I ate puttu for breakfast, which is my favorite breakfast, and got ready to go out. We called an autoricksaw, and we were off. This was my first time in an autorickshaw, and after the motor bike ride, it seemed very calm. I think I am starting to get used to the hectic roads here, which kind of scares me. The roads are crowded with people, bicycles, motor bikes, autorickshaws, buses, trucks, and large bulls pulling wagons. Technically you are supposed to drive on the left side of the road, but even that simple rule is ignored. Thus traffic jams frequently occur when two cars come right at each other, and then both refuse to back up or turn. Soon motor bikes are flying around them and autorickshaws are pressed against their tails so that they can't turn or backup even if they wanted to. In short, it is a mess.

The first ashram we visited was the Ramanasramam. This is the oldest and most famous ashram in Tiru. Ashrams are places for meditation built where holy men either reached nirvana, were enlightened, or lived their life. This ashram attracts a lot of rich westerners during the winter months when the weather is actually tolerable here. It is huge and right at the base of the mountain. It was like entering a rainforest, everything was green and the screeches of peacocks were omnipresent. There were flowers decorating everything, and it was incredibly clean, even by western standards. When we entered we were asked to remove our shoes, and we wandered barefoot past the tables where the poor could recieve free food. We looked through the library, and visited the main temple. All of the gods here are so strange, beautiful, and bright. We then entered the main meditation hall, which was made of carved white stone, and was very open and bright. This was the first time since being in India that I have seen other white people, and honestly it was a little angering. They came to India and spent all day in the ashram, many even all night since there are well kept huts you can rent. They came and stayed in a false India, the real India stopped the moment you passed through the gates. Even the beggars seemed beautiful when put in this setting. For that reason I felt a deep dislike for it, and I got angry with myself when I started to fantasize about retiring here in my old age.

We left and visited a newer ashram, the name of which I have now forgotten. Kumari had actually met the guru it was built for before he died. Outside there were men dressed in saffron clothes, the clothes of spiritual men. Kumari said that they are actually beggars, but when western people see them they are tricked into thinking that they are men dedicated to serving the gods, and then give them money. We had to take off our shoes here too, and at this point the sand / dirt was very hot. We went inside the silent temple, and walked around. There were pictures of holy men and gurus lining the walls. There was a picture of Jesus, and I contemplated the significance of his image being hung in a Hindu temple. Then I noticed that the guru next to him was "smoking the ganja" and realized that Jesus being up there probably wasn't that big of a deal. We then went to the meditation hall, and there were singers there, so Kumari and I sat for a bit. This hall was not a pretty as the other one, and kind of reminded me of a warehouse, but the singing was very beautiful.

We came home and I bathed and had samba for lunch. Then Xavier and I took the motor bike to get more water. He stopped and talked to a man, and I was proud of myself for being able to understand several of the words, and thus figure out what they were talking about. It was just about the weather, but still I was excited.

It is time to rest, and the power will go out soon, but I will write again tomorrow.

Peace,
Robby

This is the large tree outside of the first ashram, it is hundred of years old and very sacred. I didn't take that many pictures inside the ashrams, even though Kumari said I could, because it felt improper.

Inside my first autorickshaw. How touristy of me to take this picture!!! Still I was excited...