mebtravelling

Earlier tonight, Ceci (6 years old) found this video on my iPod. I had taken it my first week at the ashram, and when I watched it this evening, I was transported. I suspect, however, that not everybody seeing it will feel as I do.
Proof Positive: as I turned out her light, my wise granddaughter called out to me, “About that hut…? I don’t think it looked very fun.”

We visited on Republic Day, so only a few girls in this K-12 school, run by the all-women Hindu ashram, were around. Were they orphans? boarders from too-far-away villages? I was never entirely sure. In any case, they seemed well looked after by the yoginis we met and talked with that morning.
We were invited into the temple for Puja, and encouraged to pull out video cameras, which was felt a bit invasive – I never could bring myself to do it at Shantivnamam – but in the end, I did take this video.

Near the end of the 30-minute temple ceremony, when the high-pitched chanting was reaching its climax, the bell began to clang, then several of the young girls came in for arati. at the end:

#1: Walking up the road, Ananda . On the video I call it “Shantivanam” – I think I’d just come from over there, and had pulled out my camera, switching it, on a whim, to Video.

#2: One morning after arriving at Bless School, I walked over to discuss plans for the day with some of the teachers, and found myself in the middle of this post-snack time recess:

A note: I’m writing this from a delightful hotel in Delhi, a hotel that still reminds me where I am: when I got up @ 5 this morning and turned on my lights, no lights; when @ 6am I turned on the flatscreen t.v., no channels but the game channel [TJB, where ARE you?]; when I requested coffee, “black”, at breakfast, it arrived with the sugar already added [you know me, you know I do not do sugar.
So, this is by way of introduction to this post, which I thought would be a quickly done add-on about a morning’s adventure a couple days ago when I was still in Tamil Nadu, still in the south, still on what had come to feel like terra firma.
But the computer is an Acer (Elizabeth is nodding her head; so is Barb J): handy, freely offered for room use, a great convenience, really…but the connection? Like molasses. In January, and that would be January in Minnesota.
Last night, unaware, yet, of speed issues, I loaded 50 photos onto the Acer Desktop, but could not get them onto Picassa (Note to self…This means there are Speed Issues). This morning I again requested the Acer. The Front Desk Manager, who is George Clooney-only-more-so-b/c-of -his- maroon -turban told me he had erased the photos from the Desktop for me. How nice. THIS, of course, must have been why I had forgotten to delete them all when I finished last night’s upload. So — long story short: I have much to say, but will, instead, let 2 photos speak the 2k words for me this morning, as I am off for a day’s sightseeing in New Delhi, beginning with Humayan’s Tomb, which I really hope I like, because then perhaps I’ll learn how to spell it, and ending with…you will not believe it…”The Great Adventure of an Autorickshaw Ride through the Streets of Delhi” YES. Yes, that’s what the printout says, that’s what last night’s tour guide (as opposed to the Driver) told me as he checked me into the hotel, and that’s what I said “Oh, sure, why not?” to…

During my visit to another ashram – Hindu, all women – I learned a number of thiings, among the more publishable ones, if still necessarily cryptic in (printed) expression: I am not Hindu; the ashram, which oversees about 100 young girls, is well-supported (is this why they not only gave permission, but in fact encouraged photography, even during puja?

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Dedicated a year ago, the new temple replaced a wooden one, a temporary structure that served Shantivanam and Ananda for 20-plus years. Yes.
And, yes, there are wasps this time of year, but as a Yearner for The Orkin Man I am a Minority of One, so have instead perfected certain Non-Mindfulness Techniques. One is to distract myself by watching one of the dark winged creatures make its way up somebody’s white shawl or saffron-colored robe, figuring as I do that somebody behind me is probably watching one of the creatures flit up or down my own clothes.

Having moaned for a paragraph, I must acknowledge what an absolutely and unquestionably wonderful place this is to pray. It’s a generous space, from these curving pink and white walls that soar towards an enormous white and gold lotus in the center of the ceiling, to these cool marble floors, so welcome on the warm-to-hot days. The Hours of the Divine Office, the Masses – the arati after all those – I think it must all take on a different texture because of this space.

PONGAL, celebrated for 4 days, is a harvest feast-cum-new year celebration-featuring games and sacred cows. At the ashram, it’s reasonably low-key, but we could hear the celebrations across the road and (from my place) across the river.
BELOW, SOME RANDOM IMAGES…

At Ananda, we have curd (as good as Greek yogurt) at every meal. It’s from the cows. My coffee (Nescafe) and others’ tea are both laced with sweet milk – thank you, Sister Cow. The banana cream we have for breakfast is made from one or two of the three banana varieties (even green, they are sweet and soft) from ashram plants. The cream is seasoned with cardamon, lime, a tiny bit of o.j., then expanded and enriched with cream, from…you get my drift.>