Stayed up 'til around 5am. Couldn't sleep, so I edited an audio file I had promised a friend back in January. Wrote emails and then had kirtan in my room with a recording of one of Ginaji's kirtans I recorded last Spring. I was tired, cranky and very sore when I started. Within the first chant, my body started floating. The next thing I knew, I was dancing in lotus position all over my bed and watching the light show in my consciousness.
There is a magic that happens during kirtan. It's different than chanting by myself. There's the collective energy of the musicians, chanters, and instruments. It's a powerful vehicle for integrating the physical with the causal. Oh, how I love it!
I just skritched a cat!!! First cat I have touched since coming here. I miss cats. This one hangs out in a cafe with free wifi, so I get free 'net and kitty lovin'! w00t!
The crowd here is interesting, and we're leaving it at that.
I have about 25GB of photos to upload and the speed here is the best I've found in country. I'm not going to get finished before my battery dies, but I'll at least get started.
Looking at the announcement walls in the cafes the Westerners frequent here, I could easily be in Seattle. There are all sorts of alternative classes, products and therapies and all the photos of the practitioners are Western.
I've been here long enough that I'm hungry again. I just saw some nice looking fries go by, I think I'll have some. Am looking for a close and cheap beach. I think I need some beach time.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Connection – 13 November 2008
I’ve been feeling isolated here. There are a ton of Westerners, but they seem to either be off in a trance of their own or in cliques. I’ve approached several with no luck at connecting. I can’t get any Indians to make eye contact with me, so connecting with them isn’t happening either.
Today, I was considering what in my consciousness was creating this experience. I considered the possibility that I had nothing to do with it at all. I was curious, but not attached to getting any answers.
For the last three days, I’ve been eating fruit salad with yoghurt, called fruit curd, and an omelette around mid day and that’s been my only meal of the day. I snack on a banana or pineapple slice and get a cup or two of chai and that’s all I’ve been needing.
Today, at breakfast, I sat next to a group of five women I’d seen before. They were in deep conversations, have been here for months, and their energy seemed very closed to me. A woman asked if she could sit across from me, so I said yes. She didn’t look very happy, and looked like the woman who I asked to chat with a few days ago who said she preferred silence. As I was praying over my food, she mumbled something about “there’s no one out there, the energy is all going to humans anyway”. I opened my eyes and she was frowning at me. I just shrugged and let it go. We didn’t speak another word. I didn’t really want a connection with her. I realized something then. It is me stopping the connections. I don’t like the energy I’m sensing from some of the people and I’m not open to them.
Tonight, I decided to eat dinner and went to the restaurant across the street. They had a buffet and I was in the mood for variety. I had my soup course at a table by myself. I had noticed a Western woman sitting at the next table by herself and I got a nudge internally to ask if I could sit with her, but in my current mood, didn’t want to take the chance of getting rebuffed, so I sat alone. When I got the next course, I again got an internal nudge, so I asked and she accepted.
I’m so glad I asked. What a delightful person she is! She and I talked incessantly for over an hour. She’s from London and is here for the second time, this time for six months. She said she felt the unwelcoming energy the first time she was here, too. We exchanged contact info and may be visiting the caves together.
I’ve noticed that the Indians and the Westerners don’t mingle much here and that saddens me. I’ve noticed more of an energetic wall from the Indians from the Westerners and that saddens me, too. I only saw one other Westerner on the walk last night. Only one Indian woman spoke to me the entire time. It’s such a paradox, that this place of such Divine Love that is palpable is also a place of isolation.
I don’t know if my intention to connect with someone caused the connection to happen tonight or not, I’m just glad it happened.
Today, I was considering what in my consciousness was creating this experience. I considered the possibility that I had nothing to do with it at all. I was curious, but not attached to getting any answers.
For the last three days, I’ve been eating fruit salad with yoghurt, called fruit curd, and an omelette around mid day and that’s been my only meal of the day. I snack on a banana or pineapple slice and get a cup or two of chai and that’s all I’ve been needing.
Today, at breakfast, I sat next to a group of five women I’d seen before. They were in deep conversations, have been here for months, and their energy seemed very closed to me. A woman asked if she could sit across from me, so I said yes. She didn’t look very happy, and looked like the woman who I asked to chat with a few days ago who said she preferred silence. As I was praying over my food, she mumbled something about “there’s no one out there, the energy is all going to humans anyway”. I opened my eyes and she was frowning at me. I just shrugged and let it go. We didn’t speak another word. I didn’t really want a connection with her. I realized something then. It is me stopping the connections. I don’t like the energy I’m sensing from some of the people and I’m not open to them.
Tonight, I decided to eat dinner and went to the restaurant across the street. They had a buffet and I was in the mood for variety. I had my soup course at a table by myself. I had noticed a Western woman sitting at the next table by herself and I got a nudge internally to ask if I could sit with her, but in my current mood, didn’t want to take the chance of getting rebuffed, so I sat alone. When I got the next course, I again got an internal nudge, so I asked and she accepted.
I’m so glad I asked. What a delightful person she is! She and I talked incessantly for over an hour. She’s from London and is here for the second time, this time for six months. She said she felt the unwelcoming energy the first time she was here, too. We exchanged contact info and may be visiting the caves together.
I’ve noticed that the Indians and the Westerners don’t mingle much here and that saddens me. I’ve noticed more of an energetic wall from the Indians from the Westerners and that saddens me, too. I only saw one other Westerner on the walk last night. Only one Indian woman spoke to me the entire time. It’s such a paradox, that this place of such Divine Love that is palpable is also a place of isolation.
I don’t know if my intention to connect with someone caused the connection to happen tonight or not, I’m just glad it happened.
Giri Pradakshina – 13 November 2008
I circumambulated Mt. Arunachala last night with what some estimate as over a million people. I walked around 8 miles in 4.5 hours. I took one 15 minute break for soup. I’ve been averaging 1.5 meals a day for the last 3 days, that was my .5.
When it’s done on the full moon, it’s called Giri Pradakshina. I lasted 45 minutes barefoot. The pebbles got me. I wore my sandals for another hour, then put my lace up walking shoes with custom orthotics on. I had to stop going into the temples and shrines at that point, as it wasn’t worth the time and trouble to take off my shoes and socks each time.
It wasn’t the soles of my feet that were problematic, it was mechanical problems. It felt like I had a stress fracture in my left foot for around 3 hours, which was not fun. The last 30 minutes were excruciating, my right foot felt like it was on fire and both hurt pretty bad. When I passed the woman lying in someone’s lap on the road with no hands or feet, I counted my blessings and expressed extreme gratitude that I had feet that could hurt.
I took my pack with both pairs of shoes in it and my camera and phone. My shoulders hurt the entire walk. I realized when it was over, I was preoccupied with my discomfort the entire time. The walk is said to symbolize one’s outer life. That’s interesting.
It was very surreal. I walked from 10pm until 2:30am. Since it was dark, things just popped up out of the night. Street vendors lined the route with the normal things like malas and statues and garlands of flowers food as well as the most bizarre things like robots with blinking red and blue lights and wee faeries on flowers and peeping chicks. Very odd, that.
I snagged three pineapple slices for 9 rupees. That’s less than 1 cent per slice. A banana was also 3 rupees, less than 1 cent. I love that this tropical fruit is all local! I still haven’t tried the fresh squeezed sugar cane juice. The cleanliness of the glasses and juicers seem suspect to me. Given what I’ve consumed and lived to tell about so far, the fact I’m suspicious of these things says a lot.
I woke up this morning with Om Namah Shivaya running through my head. The mountain is said to be a Shiva lingam, or Shiva in form. I notice I have some gender issues around Shiva lingams and some resistance and resentment is there. I think part of this is getting in my way in my other practices. This bears looking into.
I’m in unfamiliar space since the walk. Actually, that kind of makes me laugh. I think unfamiliar space could probably be said to be the most familiar space for me these days. Anyway, I haven’t integrated the walk yet. My body is doing wonderfully, I’m only moderately sore. That’s quite amazing, given as how I could barely walk across a room two years ago. I’m thankful for my physical health and wellbeing.
There are other, more subtle, effects that haven’t sorted themselves out yet. I was tired and cranky this morning and I’m letting myself take as long as it takes. Tomorrow I think I’ll get an Ayurvedic massage.
When it’s done on the full moon, it’s called Giri Pradakshina. I lasted 45 minutes barefoot. The pebbles got me. I wore my sandals for another hour, then put my lace up walking shoes with custom orthotics on. I had to stop going into the temples and shrines at that point, as it wasn’t worth the time and trouble to take off my shoes and socks each time.
It wasn’t the soles of my feet that were problematic, it was mechanical problems. It felt like I had a stress fracture in my left foot for around 3 hours, which was not fun. The last 30 minutes were excruciating, my right foot felt like it was on fire and both hurt pretty bad. When I passed the woman lying in someone’s lap on the road with no hands or feet, I counted my blessings and expressed extreme gratitude that I had feet that could hurt.
I took my pack with both pairs of shoes in it and my camera and phone. My shoulders hurt the entire walk. I realized when it was over, I was preoccupied with my discomfort the entire time. The walk is said to symbolize one’s outer life. That’s interesting.
It was very surreal. I walked from 10pm until 2:30am. Since it was dark, things just popped up out of the night. Street vendors lined the route with the normal things like malas and statues and garlands of flowers food as well as the most bizarre things like robots with blinking red and blue lights and wee faeries on flowers and peeping chicks. Very odd, that.
I snagged three pineapple slices for 9 rupees. That’s less than 1 cent per slice. A banana was also 3 rupees, less than 1 cent. I love that this tropical fruit is all local! I still haven’t tried the fresh squeezed sugar cane juice. The cleanliness of the glasses and juicers seem suspect to me. Given what I’ve consumed and lived to tell about so far, the fact I’m suspicious of these things says a lot.
I woke up this morning with Om Namah Shivaya running through my head. The mountain is said to be a Shiva lingam, or Shiva in form. I notice I have some gender issues around Shiva lingams and some resistance and resentment is there. I think part of this is getting in my way in my other practices. This bears looking into.
I’m in unfamiliar space since the walk. Actually, that kind of makes me laugh. I think unfamiliar space could probably be said to be the most familiar space for me these days. Anyway, I haven’t integrated the walk yet. My body is doing wonderfully, I’m only moderately sore. That’s quite amazing, given as how I could barely walk across a room two years ago. I’m thankful for my physical health and wellbeing.
There are other, more subtle, effects that haven’t sorted themselves out yet. I was tired and cranky this morning and I’m letting myself take as long as it takes. Tomorrow I think I’ll get an Ayurvedic massage.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Random Thoughts - 12 November 2008
My laptop shocks me when it’s plugged into 240 volt power, which is what is used here. There is a thin metal strip that runs across the front, just where my wrists rest. It zings me constantly when I’m plugged in, but not when I’m on battery.
I have ankle bells on.
Mosquitoes in Tiruvanamalai are voracious. I’m using my spray for the first time and I’m back on the malaria prevention meds.
Words are spelled multiple ways in my blog because they are spelled multiple ways in India.
After I asked for comments to my blog posts to know you are out there, I realized that you’re not out there. *giggle* You’re in here. You’re all internal; you exist in my consciousness. It’s all an illusion; there is no out there, not really. It’s fun to play in the illusion, though. You are out there because I put you out there to experience myself in relation to you. You may think you exist externally to me, but I bet that the you that you experience is vastly different than the you I experience.
My voice resonates beautifully in this concrete room, or cell I think they call it. Did you know residents of ashrams are called inmates? At least in some they are.
The weather actually changes here. It was hot today again, but much nicer because it was overcast most of the day. The sky reminded me of Seattle. I could tolerate the grayness much better if it were warmer in Seattle. I wonder if global warming will make Seattle more pleasant for me and those like me that don’t tolerate the chill so well?
I feel like I’m intoxicated all day here. I wonder if that becomes problematic over a long period of time. It’s kind of nice right now.
Monkeys and peacocks coexist with the people here at Sri Ramanasramam and to a lesser extent at the ashram I’m staying in. I had to walk by two on the sidewalk leaving my room this morning. It’s unsettling to me. I took video of some rambunctious monkey behavour at Sri Ramanasramam yesterday. People looked totally undisturbed by it. The peacocks are beautiful and sound like the most vocal Siamese cat ever.
People walk around drinking coconut milk through a straw in the coconut. I wonder what they do with it when they are done? Seems a shame if they waste all that luscious coconut meat by just tossing it. This is on my list of things to find out.
With a couple of exceptions, people here are very closed to me, so far. I’m not sure why that is.
I’m posting this before my walk around the mountain tonight. I intend to go barefoot, but I’m not attached to it. I read today millions do it on a full moon night. As the crowds thickened today, I believe it.
I have ankle bells on.
Mosquitoes in Tiruvanamalai are voracious. I’m using my spray for the first time and I’m back on the malaria prevention meds.
Words are spelled multiple ways in my blog because they are spelled multiple ways in India.
After I asked for comments to my blog posts to know you are out there, I realized that you’re not out there. *giggle* You’re in here. You’re all internal; you exist in my consciousness. It’s all an illusion; there is no out there, not really. It’s fun to play in the illusion, though. You are out there because I put you out there to experience myself in relation to you. You may think you exist externally to me, but I bet that the you that you experience is vastly different than the you I experience.
My voice resonates beautifully in this concrete room, or cell I think they call it. Did you know residents of ashrams are called inmates? At least in some they are.
The weather actually changes here. It was hot today again, but much nicer because it was overcast most of the day. The sky reminded me of Seattle. I could tolerate the grayness much better if it were warmer in Seattle. I wonder if global warming will make Seattle more pleasant for me and those like me that don’t tolerate the chill so well?
I feel like I’m intoxicated all day here. I wonder if that becomes problematic over a long period of time. It’s kind of nice right now.
Monkeys and peacocks coexist with the people here at Sri Ramanasramam and to a lesser extent at the ashram I’m staying in. I had to walk by two on the sidewalk leaving my room this morning. It’s unsettling to me. I took video of some rambunctious monkey behavour at Sri Ramanasramam yesterday. People looked totally undisturbed by it. The peacocks are beautiful and sound like the most vocal Siamese cat ever.
People walk around drinking coconut milk through a straw in the coconut. I wonder what they do with it when they are done? Seems a shame if they waste all that luscious coconut meat by just tossing it. This is on my list of things to find out.
With a couple of exceptions, people here are very closed to me, so far. I’m not sure why that is.
I’m posting this before my walk around the mountain tonight. I intend to go barefoot, but I’m not attached to it. I read today millions do it on a full moon night. As the crowds thickened today, I believe it.
What Is An Ashram? - 12 November 2008
I’ve stayed in three ashrams now and visited two, and I have less of an idea now of what they are than I did before I ever stayed in one. What is an ashram? Does anyone know?
11-11-08 I just love this date! Or Travel from Haridwar to Thiruvanamalai
Can’t sleep. Possibly too tired. Possibly too wired on Bliss. Who knows.
It’s hot. We’re back up into the 90 – 100 degree F range again. Humid. Sticky. My fan control is broken, so it’s either wide open or off. It’s too fast on wide open, I start coughing, so I have to turn it off. I’m probably too hot to sleep, come to think of it. Definitely don’t need the coat here! It’s wild to think I was cold two nights ago.
Yesterday (wow, was that only Yesterday??) I tried to make my travel arrangements to get here. There was a train booking station just outside the back gate of the ashram I was turned away from. I was not successful and got really discouraged. I decided I’d have to rickshaw back into Haridwar and go to the railway station or find an Internet cafe. I still needed a plane ticket, too. Walked into the station and realized it was the same situation and headed out to find a travel agent.
Haridwar doesn’t have Internet cafes that I’m used to seeing on every block. I ended up spending about 4 hours there, covering a large portion of the city, and only saw two. I’d been thinking the two per block I was used to seeing was because local people don’t have computers in their homes, but now I realize they’re for the tourists, not the locals. It’s an uncomfortable feeling being immersed in a language you don’t know and having no way for connection to the wider world.
I found a travel agent across the street from the railway station that told me he could get me on a Volvo bus to Delhi and found a plane ticket to Chennai. He purchased the plane ticket and then found out the Volvo bus was full. He originally told me he didn’t do trains, but he managed to get me a takthal ticket for a ridiculous amount of money. His fee was triple what I was used to paying, as well. Hell, I took it, I wanted the arrangements finished.
After that was settled, I hung out for about 2 or 3 hours on the ghat. That was amazing. It’s the only part of Haridwar I like. The energy is awesome, but it’s way too commercial to spend any more time than that and the scammers are rampant. It’s nice for a one time experience, though.
I rickshawed back to my ashram, picked up my bags, rickshawed back to Haridwar. I had an hour before my train, so I risked not getting a porter. Haridwar only has two platforms, so I had a 50% chance of getting it right. Thankfully, it was the first of the two. My bags have a combined weight of around 60 pounds and I can tell you I’m getting sore from lugging them, but I felt very accomplished.
I have awesome train karma, the train was on time, yet again! This is three in a row for me! I met a woman waiting for the train that had been in the same ashram as me, but we hadn’t connected there. I remember hearing her voice one morning, she has a Venezuelan accent and she reminded me of my dear friend Yolanda. I miss Yolanda!
So, the rest of the night and this morning went like this:
It’s quite astonishing to realize how much can happen and how drastically things can change in a 24 hour period. The joy and bliss I’m finding here truly makes everything leading up to this point well worth it. It’s funny, I can look back and see why things weren’t working out for me to stay longer where I was. I wasn’t supposed to. I’d been dragging my feet about moving on, and I’ve been shown that it wasn’t necessary.
It’s hot. We’re back up into the 90 – 100 degree F range again. Humid. Sticky. My fan control is broken, so it’s either wide open or off. It’s too fast on wide open, I start coughing, so I have to turn it off. I’m probably too hot to sleep, come to think of it. Definitely don’t need the coat here! It’s wild to think I was cold two nights ago.
Yesterday (wow, was that only Yesterday??) I tried to make my travel arrangements to get here. There was a train booking station just outside the back gate of the ashram I was turned away from. I was not successful and got really discouraged. I decided I’d have to rickshaw back into Haridwar and go to the railway station or find an Internet cafe. I still needed a plane ticket, too. Walked into the station and realized it was the same situation and headed out to find a travel agent.
Haridwar doesn’t have Internet cafes that I’m used to seeing on every block. I ended up spending about 4 hours there, covering a large portion of the city, and only saw two. I’d been thinking the two per block I was used to seeing was because local people don’t have computers in their homes, but now I realize they’re for the tourists, not the locals. It’s an uncomfortable feeling being immersed in a language you don’t know and having no way for connection to the wider world.
I found a travel agent across the street from the railway station that told me he could get me on a Volvo bus to Delhi and found a plane ticket to Chennai. He purchased the plane ticket and then found out the Volvo bus was full. He originally told me he didn’t do trains, but he managed to get me a takthal ticket for a ridiculous amount of money. His fee was triple what I was used to paying, as well. Hell, I took it, I wanted the arrangements finished.
After that was settled, I hung out for about 2 or 3 hours on the ghat. That was amazing. It’s the only part of Haridwar I like. The energy is awesome, but it’s way too commercial to spend any more time than that and the scammers are rampant. It’s nice for a one time experience, though.
I rickshawed back to my ashram, picked up my bags, rickshawed back to Haridwar. I had an hour before my train, so I risked not getting a porter. Haridwar only has two platforms, so I had a 50% chance of getting it right. Thankfully, it was the first of the two. My bags have a combined weight of around 60 pounds and I can tell you I’m getting sore from lugging them, but I felt very accomplished.
I have awesome train karma, the train was on time, yet again! This is three in a row for me! I met a woman waiting for the train that had been in the same ashram as me, but we hadn’t connected there. I remember hearing her voice one morning, she has a Venezuelan accent and she reminded me of my dear friend Yolanda. I miss Yolanda!
So, the rest of the night and this morning went like this:
- 6 hour train ride to New Delhi in chair AC, arriving at 11pm.
- Attempted scam by a taxi driver who put my bag in his trunk and closed it, impersonating a prepaid taxi. I didn’t fall for it.
- Argument with the porter who jacked his rate up after we agreed. I split the difference just to get rid of him.
- Got to the prepaid taxi booth, decided a taxi cost too much and negotiated a good price for an auto rickshaw. The same auto rickshaw driver who tried to talk me into going to a guest house or hotel instead of the airport. Who pulled over twice in the parking lot and disappeared for over five minutes. I got weirded out, grabbed my bags and got out. He followed me, apologizing and talked me into getting back in the rickshaw. He had been looking for another driver to drive me and wasn’t getting any takers.
- Froze my ass off for an hour in the auto rickshaw getting across town to the airport. He drove like a madman, worse than normal, but we arrived safely.
- Killed 4 hours catnapping and talking politics (ugh) in the airport.
- Discovered the domestic terminal in Delhi has extremely clean public washrooms with a shower across the street! Washroom cost 2 Rupees, didn’t pay attention to the price for a shower, but wow!
- Talked to my mom at 2:30am.
- Ate crappy airport food at 3am.
- Had a lovely 2 hour on time flight on Indigo Air where I had the entire row to myself and got a nice nap in.
- Got a shock when I found out how much the taxi to Thiruvanamalai cost. Paid it anyway.
- Rode 4 hours and got a couple more hours of sleep. It was hot!
- Got here, got turned away from Sri Ramanasramam, which I expected. They are very clear you need to email them in advance, and I could never decide the exact day I was coming, or if I was even coming. The loving energy was so overwhelming, I was weeping. I think they felt sorry for me and booked me a room next door. They were very kind, the office was supposed to be closed for two hours and I had settled in to wait. I wasn’t stressed or upset, just calmly weeping. Told them it just felt so good to be here. They understood. Later, I passed that Swamiji on the road a few blocks away and he asked me if I had gotten settled in. I had showered and changed clothes, so I was impressed that he recognized me and asked.
- Got my heart blown open bigger than I thought possible. Sweet!
It’s quite astonishing to realize how much can happen and how drastically things can change in a 24 hour period. The joy and bliss I’m finding here truly makes everything leading up to this point well worth it. It’s funny, I can look back and see why things weren’t working out for me to stay longer where I was. I wasn’t supposed to. I’d been dragging my feet about moving on, and I’ve been shown that it wasn’t necessary.
Hello Haridwar or I’ve Now Ridden A Chicken Bus – 9 November 2008
I got back to Omkarananda Ashram and liberated my bag. I went down to Ganga Ma and got some water and sand to bring along on the rest of my trip. I have some at home, but I needed some with me. I used a container my Ayurvedic cough goop was in, which conveniently ran out this morning.
I said my goodbyes to Ganga Ma and Rishikesh. There was no deep emotional trauma this time, just a knowing that I’m never really separate. It was very sweet. It felt like time to go.
I climbed up the stairs and arranged for a rickshaw to the bus station. India is awesome if you know the rules. “Rickshaw madam?”
“Yes, bus station.”
“Come this way. 50 rupees.”
*smile* “20 rupees.”
Not possible! “50 rupees.”
*indulgent smile* 20 rupees.
*head bobble* “Tekay” (OK)
I felt pretty smug as we got underway. It’s the little things that build my sense of competency.
So off we go to the bus station, which had the most flies I’ve ever seen and is just an unpaved parking lot. I got directed to a bus that wasn’t really the bus I needed so I waited. After about 20 minutes the Haridwar bus pulled up, so I boarded. All the writing on the buses is in Devanagari script, not the Roman alphabet I’m used to. You have to depend on hawkers belting out the name of the city like they’re selling peanuts at a baseball game.
My luggage took up an entire seat. I was hoping the bus wouldn’t fill up, I didn’t know what I’d do with it. It was way too large to fit in the overhead racks.
Now this bus would not win any beauty contests, but it was surprisingly comfortable. It was old, rusty and filthy, but we made good time and the seat was supportive and the suspension was good. The fare taker came along and I gave him a 50 rupee note and he handed me back 30 in change and a torn stub that had Hindi writing with the numbers 10 and 30 on it. I don’t know why I got charged 20 rupees, but I just went with it. The entire ride, including stops, was under an hour. When you are the lumbering behemoth that everyone is passing, there’s no one in front of you slowing you down, so we just cruised right along.
As we were approaching Haridwar, I remembered Swamiji telling me the bus would go right past the Ashram I was staying at. I couldn’t get the fare taker to answer my question about where to get off, so I phoned the Ashram.
“I’m on the bus from Rishikesh, where do I get off?”
“We have no room here, who did you talk to?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you need to know.”
“Well, I don’t know. He said to come and I could stay for two days.”
“OK, come anyway, we’ll talk.”
Right then the bus pulled in at the station, so it was a moot point on where to get off. I got off the bus and started negotiating for an auto rickshaw. “It’s 10km, 200 rupees.”
“I just paid 20 rupees to get all the way from Rishikesh. 50 rupees.”
“Not possible, take bicycle rickshaw.”
Go to bicycle rickshaw.
“Take Auto.”
Start over again with a different auto rickshaw driver.
I got them down to 80 and called it a success. I spent Rs. 350 to get from Haridwar to Rishikesh a week ago and this was going to cost me a total of Rs 100. Not bad. It would have been sweet if I had known where to get off the bus and kept it down to Rs. 20, but oh, well. Live and learn.
We did indeed pass right by the Ashram, way before I thought to start asking about where to get off. I pulled my duffle and shouldered my backpack and made the long trek to reception. Don’t know why they told me to come anyway, they were still full and were not letting me stay, so the trip up there was for nothing. They sent me to an Ashram across the street where they said had rooms for Rs. 200 per night, so I shouldered and pulled luggage across a very busy highway in the dark and walked a block to find it was Rs. 600 a night.
My Ganga balcony room back in Rishikesh was Rs. 255 a night. It was peaceful and the view was gorgeous. I thought I’d be staying somewhere for two nights free. At that moment, I was not a happy Devi. Now, granted, 600 rupees is under $20, but it’s the principle of the thing and I’ve gone way over my budget already. She sent me back across the highway to a tiny Ashram she said was Rs. 100 or 200 a night. I stopped on the way at what I thought was the Ashram, and they said they were an Ashram, but they turned me away. Three strikes, yikes.
I asked a rickshaw driver and he pointed out two ashrams. The first one was the original one and the second one was the tiny one I was looking for. Success! I’m sitting on my bed typing this for Rs. 200 for the night. I told the driver that if I couldn’t find a room here, I wanted to be driven back to Rishikesh. I was going to take a risk that my room hadn’t been rented out yet. I would have wasted a whole afternoon and evening and Rs. 350, so between that and the rent I’d still have been at Rs. 600 and I’d be back in Rishikesh needing to get to Haridwar to get the train to Delhi, so that idea wasn’t thrilling me. I’m really glad I got this room.
OK, so this is my first foray into the wilds of India on my own and it didn’t go so well. I started being critical of myself during the backtracking in the auto rickshaw and immediately stopped myself. It’s India, these things happen and one has to be flexible. I congratulated myself on being flexible and resourceful and negotiating a good price on the rickshaw and left it at that. After I got turned away three times, I was feeling discouraged and critical of myself again, but again I stopped.
Hardly anyone speaks any English here and none of the signs are in English. The first Ashram has no Roman writing at all except for one temple I saw while wandering around later. All the writing, and there is a lot of it, is in Devanagari script. The gatekeeper at this Ashram knows about five words of English and the older guy who checked me in and seems to be the patriarch, or whatever, knows about two. His wife knew a little. There is not one Roman letter printed on my receipt. All this, and within ninety minutes of hitting Haridwar, I was settled into a room. I think I did awesome!
I’m right next door to the original Ashram and I can hear harmoniums and chanting and loud talking. After I checked in here, I wandered around over there and found the sweetest Gayatri temple! She’s so beautiful! I was enraptured. The energy there! All my frustration with them evaporated. I’m going over there in the morning to see what’s what in the day time and talk a bit with the Foreign Cell to see if there’s any room tomorrow, but I doubt I’ll stay. It just didn’t feel right. I think I’ll just move on a day early. I feel the need to get settled in, especially since I’m going without room reservations again.
Dinner tonight was across the busy highway again at the only place that has any Roman writing on it at all, a huge high rise hotel. We’re in a very odd section of Haridwar, there are no Internet cafés or travel agents. I’m going to have to hire a rickshaw to go into town to make my next arrangements. Fun, fun.
I’m tired. I’m sore. I’m cranky. I’ve been sneezing all day and I’m coughing again. This room is really ugly and the neighbours are loud at the other Ashram. There’s a cockroach in the wardrobe (we made a deal, it stays in there and I stay out here) and there seems to be a minute long train whistle every ten minutes or so. Oh great, now the Ashram next door is setting off those loud cannon firecrackers. So far, Haridwar hasn’t impressed me in the least.
However, I’m warm. The blankets here are much better than at Omkarananda and the mattress seems marginally better. Warm is important, as the nights are now cold here. My marble floor feels like ice.
I’m safe. I have a room to sleep in. I have a private bath. Hideous, but private. I’d been using the communal bath back at Omkarananda, but it was spotless. Things will look much brighter in the morning, I hope. This may make the travel connections to my next destination work better. I knew there was a reason I just couldn’t click “Buy Now” on that plane ticket the other day.
And, hey! I rode in a chicken bus! And I liked it!
I said my goodbyes to Ganga Ma and Rishikesh. There was no deep emotional trauma this time, just a knowing that I’m never really separate. It was very sweet. It felt like time to go.
I climbed up the stairs and arranged for a rickshaw to the bus station. India is awesome if you know the rules. “Rickshaw madam?”
“Yes, bus station.”
“Come this way. 50 rupees.”
*smile* “20 rupees.”
Not possible! “50 rupees.”
*indulgent smile* 20 rupees.
*head bobble* “Tekay” (OK)
I felt pretty smug as we got underway. It’s the little things that build my sense of competency.
So off we go to the bus station, which had the most flies I’ve ever seen and is just an unpaved parking lot. I got directed to a bus that wasn’t really the bus I needed so I waited. After about 20 minutes the Haridwar bus pulled up, so I boarded. All the writing on the buses is in Devanagari script, not the Roman alphabet I’m used to. You have to depend on hawkers belting out the name of the city like they’re selling peanuts at a baseball game.
My luggage took up an entire seat. I was hoping the bus wouldn’t fill up, I didn’t know what I’d do with it. It was way too large to fit in the overhead racks.
Now this bus would not win any beauty contests, but it was surprisingly comfortable. It was old, rusty and filthy, but we made good time and the seat was supportive and the suspension was good. The fare taker came along and I gave him a 50 rupee note and he handed me back 30 in change and a torn stub that had Hindi writing with the numbers 10 and 30 on it. I don’t know why I got charged 20 rupees, but I just went with it. The entire ride, including stops, was under an hour. When you are the lumbering behemoth that everyone is passing, there’s no one in front of you slowing you down, so we just cruised right along.
As we were approaching Haridwar, I remembered Swamiji telling me the bus would go right past the Ashram I was staying at. I couldn’t get the fare taker to answer my question about where to get off, so I phoned the Ashram.
“I’m on the bus from Rishikesh, where do I get off?”
“We have no room here, who did you talk to?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you need to know.”
“Well, I don’t know. He said to come and I could stay for two days.”
“OK, come anyway, we’ll talk.”
Right then the bus pulled in at the station, so it was a moot point on where to get off. I got off the bus and started negotiating for an auto rickshaw. “It’s 10km, 200 rupees.”
“I just paid 20 rupees to get all the way from Rishikesh. 50 rupees.”
“Not possible, take bicycle rickshaw.”
Go to bicycle rickshaw.
“Take Auto.”
Start over again with a different auto rickshaw driver.
I got them down to 80 and called it a success. I spent Rs. 350 to get from Haridwar to Rishikesh a week ago and this was going to cost me a total of Rs 100. Not bad. It would have been sweet if I had known where to get off the bus and kept it down to Rs. 20, but oh, well. Live and learn.
We did indeed pass right by the Ashram, way before I thought to start asking about where to get off. I pulled my duffle and shouldered my backpack and made the long trek to reception. Don’t know why they told me to come anyway, they were still full and were not letting me stay, so the trip up there was for nothing. They sent me to an Ashram across the street where they said had rooms for Rs. 200 per night, so I shouldered and pulled luggage across a very busy highway in the dark and walked a block to find it was Rs. 600 a night.
My Ganga balcony room back in Rishikesh was Rs. 255 a night. It was peaceful and the view was gorgeous. I thought I’d be staying somewhere for two nights free. At that moment, I was not a happy Devi. Now, granted, 600 rupees is under $20, but it’s the principle of the thing and I’ve gone way over my budget already. She sent me back across the highway to a tiny Ashram she said was Rs. 100 or 200 a night. I stopped on the way at what I thought was the Ashram, and they said they were an Ashram, but they turned me away. Three strikes, yikes.
I asked a rickshaw driver and he pointed out two ashrams. The first one was the original one and the second one was the tiny one I was looking for. Success! I’m sitting on my bed typing this for Rs. 200 for the night. I told the driver that if I couldn’t find a room here, I wanted to be driven back to Rishikesh. I was going to take a risk that my room hadn’t been rented out yet. I would have wasted a whole afternoon and evening and Rs. 350, so between that and the rent I’d still have been at Rs. 600 and I’d be back in Rishikesh needing to get to Haridwar to get the train to Delhi, so that idea wasn’t thrilling me. I’m really glad I got this room.
OK, so this is my first foray into the wilds of India on my own and it didn’t go so well. I started being critical of myself during the backtracking in the auto rickshaw and immediately stopped myself. It’s India, these things happen and one has to be flexible. I congratulated myself on being flexible and resourceful and negotiating a good price on the rickshaw and left it at that. After I got turned away three times, I was feeling discouraged and critical of myself again, but again I stopped.
Hardly anyone speaks any English here and none of the signs are in English. The first Ashram has no Roman writing at all except for one temple I saw while wandering around later. All the writing, and there is a lot of it, is in Devanagari script. The gatekeeper at this Ashram knows about five words of English and the older guy who checked me in and seems to be the patriarch, or whatever, knows about two. His wife knew a little. There is not one Roman letter printed on my receipt. All this, and within ninety minutes of hitting Haridwar, I was settled into a room. I think I did awesome!
I’m right next door to the original Ashram and I can hear harmoniums and chanting and loud talking. After I checked in here, I wandered around over there and found the sweetest Gayatri temple! She’s so beautiful! I was enraptured. The energy there! All my frustration with them evaporated. I’m going over there in the morning to see what’s what in the day time and talk a bit with the Foreign Cell to see if there’s any room tomorrow, but I doubt I’ll stay. It just didn’t feel right. I think I’ll just move on a day early. I feel the need to get settled in, especially since I’m going without room reservations again.
Dinner tonight was across the busy highway again at the only place that has any Roman writing on it at all, a huge high rise hotel. We’re in a very odd section of Haridwar, there are no Internet cafés or travel agents. I’m going to have to hire a rickshaw to go into town to make my next arrangements. Fun, fun.
I’m tired. I’m sore. I’m cranky. I’ve been sneezing all day and I’m coughing again. This room is really ugly and the neighbours are loud at the other Ashram. There’s a cockroach in the wardrobe (we made a deal, it stays in there and I stay out here) and there seems to be a minute long train whistle every ten minutes or so. Oh great, now the Ashram next door is setting off those loud cannon firecrackers. So far, Haridwar hasn’t impressed me in the least.
However, I’m warm. The blankets here are much better than at Omkarananda and the mattress seems marginally better. Warm is important, as the nights are now cold here. My marble floor feels like ice.
I’m safe. I have a room to sleep in. I have a private bath. Hideous, but private. I’d been using the communal bath back at Omkarananda, but it was spotless. Things will look much brighter in the morning, I hope. This may make the travel connections to my next destination work better. I knew there was a reason I just couldn’t click “Buy Now” on that plane ticket the other day.
And, hey! I rode in a chicken bus! And I liked it!
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