A Tale of Great Fortune

The two weeks leading up to my departure were a whirlwind of last-minute preparations and quick visits to old friends and family. It was a remarkable time, as all of my visits were of a higher quality than I have ever experienced before. My father in particular was a great resource. He really came through for me, helping me in any and every way he could. I don't see how I could have done it without him (thanks dad!)

The first 14 hours of my flight to Taipei was relatively uneventful. I didn’t lose my nerve until the second leg of the flight, to Singapore. Inability to sleep combined with claustrophobic tendencies caused me to lose my sunny disposition around hour 18. But I had a six-hour break to wander the airport in Singapore, and even took a free bus tour of the perfectly manicured downtown area. From what I managed to see through the pouring rain, Singapore looks to be a posh and immaculate place, with beautifully maintained buildings. I think they can put you in jail for littering, but that could just be urban myth.

It was only five more hours to Delhi, and thanks to God, I managed to sleep nearly the entire time. Anytime I can sleep, I say a little prayer of gratitude. Arrival in Delhi was exhilarating. I was overwhelmed with a giddiness that I am still experiencing even one week later. As we got off the plane I was fortunate enough to meet a nice English boy who immediately assumed the role of protector, which I gratefully accepted.

Exiting the airport in Delhi, or any Indian city I imagine, was like emerging into mass hysteria. I was unable to locate my ride, which had been arranged the week before, and realized a bit too late that the majority of the stack of bills I was carrying were not Indian rupees, but Nepali rupees. Luckily, my new friend lent me a few hundred rupees, shared his taxi, and mercifully, shared the last room at his guest house.

Indeed, this last week I have had so much good fortune that I do believe someone or something is protecting me. At every turn someone has been there to help me, and my sense of well being is quite strong. I am not afraid and I am not anxious.

The next day we ventured out to the Railway Station, which was a big mistake. We were hassled so much that we took refuge in a restaurant and sipped coffee instead. India is overwhelming and must be eased into. Sometime later in the day a nice Indian man from the internet shop took a liking to me and arranged my train ticket to Hardiwar, six hours north of Delhi, free of charge. Not only did he refuse payment, but he also came to the railway station the next morning at 7am to make sure I found my seat. Not only that, but my English friend got up early to carry my bags to the station, too! Turns out I was respectfully taken care of my first two nights in Delhi, which I was expecting to be a nightmare trial of patience and endurance.

Day two I arrived in Hardiwar and shared a rickshaw to Rishikesh, about 30 km away. Rishikesh is an important holy city and is situated near the origin of the river Ganga (Ganges). It is a beautiful and relaxed place that attracts lots of yoga-heads, babas, and “seekers” of truth and enlightenment. The marketing of these things can be a bit much, but Rishikesh is a true delight nonetheless. The only dangers are the monkeys, who look cute but can smell a morsel of food a mile away, and the large-size cow shits that seem to appear out of nowhere. Also it is important to get out of the way of motorcycles and irritated cows.

As I crossed the bridge to the east side of the Ganga, careful not to provoke the monkeys by looking them directly in the eyes, I noticed my dear friend Niko waiting for me at the other end. Yes, my good fortune continues. He helped situate me in a room at the Ved Niketan Ashram (70 rupees) and we went for a delicious lunch of kitcheree soup.

There are many ashrams here, Indian centers of spiritual practice like yoga, meditation and mantras. My ashram is extremely peaceful, with only a few restrictions (i.e. no smoking, no music, 10 o’clock curfew). My room is a bit dank, but has it’s own western-style toilet and “shower.” Shower is in quotes because it is really only a large bucket and a cold water faucet. So far I have bathed only once, with much gritting of teeth. As for the toilet paper situation, I have not got the nerve to give it up just yet, but fully intend to in the near future. Stay tuned.

These last few days I have been taking my time to settle in. The days are getting hotter and the nights are still chilly. Saturday night was a full lunar eclipse, which we witnessed from the roof of the ashram at 3 in the morning. The following day was Holy Day, a holiday in India that coincides with the full moon in March. My first experience with Holy Day was four years ago in Nepal. It is the day when all Indian people get in touch with their inner children by running around throwing bright colors (paint, water, you name it) on anything that moves. “Happy Holy” they scream as they smear a handful of color in your face. Even the cows and dogs get it. For this reason, many westerners and especially women remain holed up for the day. I stayed in the ashram and did not venture out until late in the afternoon when the excitement had died down.

Niko and I walked to the abandoned ashram nearby where the Beatles came to visit in the late 60’s and wandered around the grounds. The trail to the ashram was overgrown and a number of monkeys hovered menacingly about. A large stone or stick seems to keep them at a comfortable distance. The ashram itself was overgrown and slightly eerie, but pleasantly peaceful, until a groundskeeper finally chased us off. We then headed down to the bank of the Ganga to watch the sunset. I prayed for peace and happiness in the lives of my friends and family, and just as the sun was about to disappear, I put my feet in the frigid Ganga water. An Indian man told me the Ganga was like his mother, and I thought of the Virgin Mary who hangs around my neck. I realized that both are symbols of protection and nurturing, and as symbols, they can do much to keep us spiritually strong.

Yesterday we went for a full swim in the Ganga. It was so shockingly cold that I literally couldn’t speak for a moment or two. In an unguarded moment, I even swallowed some of the Ganga water by accident. So far there have been no repercussions and all bowel function continues normally. Later in the afternoon I had my first real yoga class. It was challenging and, while I am quite flexible, I lack strength, which I hope to build up over the next few weeks. Already my posture is much improved.

This morning I fasted before my consult with Dr. Vishnu, a practicioner of Ayurvedic medicine. Ayurvedic medicine seems to be the answer to my prayers. One of its principal tenets is that all disease is brought about by wrong diet and wrong actions. Ayurvedic tradition is more than 6,000 years old, and has a lot more to offer me than modern western medicine, which is profoundly ignorant of the workings of the mind. I start classes tonight and will consider an extended form of study if it suits me. Those who know me well will recall that I have an undiagnosed fainting disorder and a profound interest in nutrition.

until next time,
much love and light to all,
LMA