Rivers and Roads

This is going to be quick, I apologize. But I am attempting to create a Youtube account thing (WATCH HERE) through which you can see all the videos of places I have been and things I’ve experienced. So here we go!

40 rupees can get you a lot here, but my favorite is a trip to this part of the beach. (the exchange rate here is about 60 rupees per US dollar). One sunny day we went on an excursion up the hill by us to a park owned by the Visakha Urban Development Authority. While the park was nice, carefully manicured grass and the whole nine yards, what I loved was the part where the park ended: the beach. There were tide pools everywhere, caves, rocks, and waves crashing on all of them. I was in love.

I started scampering over every rock formation I could get my foot on. My friend has the pictures of me on the tops of the ‘crags’, so these are the best I could do. A local villager came while we were walking around these pools and he climbed into the pool right behind me, turns out it is about 8 feet deep. If the water wasn’t so polluted, it would be a very tempting dip.

A red moon over the sea: something that is nearly impossible to capture. We took a trip to Bheemily one day and as we were walking to the beach we saw the most incredible moon. It rose, low and red, over a rapidly darkening bay of black sand. Magical.

One of my mehandi masterpieces. Foot model: Jamie.

Vizianagram. Home of my favorite festival. There is no way that this festival can be done justice in words. The day started with us piling in the rental car in our best sarees and driving to a small town, Vizinagram, to meet up with a doctor that we know (who also happens to be the royal astrologer to the Maharajah). We spent some time with him and then we made our way to this building that faces the main road where the festivities happen. People started packing in below us. Anticipation weighed the air down more than the steady drizzle. Three hours after we arrived at the top of the room, the festival began! 

The worship and pooja of this particular festival involves a member of an important family strapping himself into a chair attached to the end of a 40’ pole. The said pole is attached to a rolling cart which makes its way from the temple to the fort three times (a total of 5 km). Not only does he have to stay in this chair, but he has to do so while bananas are being pelted at him from all sides. If you throw bananas at this contraption, you are making an offering to the goddess being celebrated (no extra points if you hit him). Really, it was a pretty good day!

Meet Raju. He is an 8^th class student in Vizag who’s father is a fisherman, a trade Raju has already taken to like a fish to water. This kid has a great smile and even better sense of humor! He was regaling us with stories of his swimming far out in the sea to go fishing. We impressed him with our vast knowledge and command of the Telugu language. All in all, a lovely bit of communication.

Bathing in the river is apparently a common occurrence here. We saw this when we went on a YSA conference trip to a nearby city. As we were getting out of our bus to go and see the two old bridges of the city (one of it’s only attractions) we were joined by another group of people, all in red, getting out of their bus. Once we got down there we noticed that half of the other bus was in the water bathing! It is a religious act and one that is VERY India!

Here are the two bridges that we saw. The one on the right is the old bridge and on the left is the new. I love the juxtaposition of traditional and modern! Steel versus brick.

An American in India

There are certain experiences that come with being an American in India.

Whether you want to or not, you stand out. You are white. You are tall. You are big. You are loud. You don’t want to be all of these things and yet you are always end up being that person. Incapability to tan, larger bone structure, inability to whisper: all things you can thank years of evolution for embedding in your DNA. That being said, I do what I can to fit in: wear Indian dress, pull my hair up in the style here, talk more quietly, speak when spoken to, use the Indian English (a language on its own). It helps, but nothing will change my natural ability to stand out.

This last week, a friend of mine and I went to a Jain conference so she could interview people. We met up with a friend of ours and she took us into the hall to sit at the back like you normally do when late. No, the leaders insisted that we go to the front row where there just happened to be enough seats for the three of us. We, Lins and I, were invited by the head nun to give a speech about India on the things we have learned. Two to three minutes each would suffice. Uhm, okay! I have learned that it is impossible to say no here; all you have to do in response (and really, it is the only response which anyone seems to understand) is the ever ambiguous head bobble. Does it mean yes? no? maybe? It all depends on what the other person wants to hear. Generally speaking, it means yes. So we head bobbled and started thinking about what we would speak on.

We didn’t end up speaking at that conference; they ran out of time. However, we did get commemorative plaques (written in a mountain dialect which is similar to Hindi). All the leaders held onto one side and the two of us held the other and everyone with a camera proceeded to document the moment.

Guruji! Looking good at 93

Another fun vignette from India happened last Monday when the three of us ventured into the jungles to commemorate the birthday of a celebrated local guru. This guru is the leader and head of the Yoga Consciousness Trust, the yoga program I am a part of in the mornings. The morning of the festivities we hopped in our rented car and left; giddy with the excitement of taking part in something that is so very Indian. [Cultural note: The worship of gurus is very popular here. Pictures of the more influential ones are posted in bus stops, bathrooms, car windows, and just about everywhere else. Most of the prominent gurus have ‘expired’. Yet, here was our chance to see a guru who was still alive!] Upon arriving, we realized just how deep we were in India. Everywhere you looked was jungle or rice patti; palm trees of all shapes and sizes lined the road; somewhere nearby a beautiful raga (song) was being played; and the spiders hung in the trees. These spiders were literally the size of my face. They had long, spindly legs, sleek bodies, pincers, the whole nine-yards. We tried asking people about them, but no one seemed to pay them any thought; so we let them be. As soon as we walked in the doors of the ashram (it means community but typically one with a cause) my yoga instructor and some of my meditation classmates met us and took us to where they had saved seats: the very front (thank you!). I was introduced to the lady next to me, she also practices meditation with the YCT but goes to the night classes, and we discussed Deborah Kerr’s (is it c-a-r or k-e-r?) acting and how we liked An Affair to Remember. She thought it was wonderfully acted, I agreed for the most part.

I kid you not, this one is small and yet is larger than my hand.

These pictures are of the kids at the Ramakrishna School of Excellence which is a part of the ashram. They demonstrated their yogic abilities for all of us, resulting in incredible jealousy and awe.

We got out of the rental car and saw this!
 It was a ten minute walk into the jungle to get to the ashram.

An Indian Gothic

Some of the best yoga poses I've ever seen.

After the ceremony Becs, Lins, and I went on a walk through the pattis and forest. While we were discussing the finer points of the spider suspended above the road in front of us, a tribal woman came walking by us. We attempted to ask her whether or not these spiders were poisonous…neither of us speaking the other’s language. Somehow she communicated that she wanted us to go back to her village with her; so we, like the curious foreigners we are, followed. Apparently all the rice fields around were hers! We reached her cluster of thatched huts and met her family. One of her son-in-laws spoke English very well and talked with us for a bit. We asked him about the spiders and asked if they were dangerous. He wasn’t sure, so he asked his mother-in-law. I haven’t seen someone laugh that hard in a long time; she had thought we wanted to eat the spiders and couldn’t figure out why someone would want to do something so stupid! They weren’t poisonous, but they kept joking that only China and Korea do ‘weird’ things like that. Although the reaction to our wondering about the spiders was nothing to the reaction I got when trying to imitate a snake in yet another bought of failed communication. After talking with them for a while, it was time to get back. We big farewell to this lovely family and are hoping to see them again someday!

He was the cutest little guy. Had some serious talent too.

India is always full of surprises, the trick is not getting caught in the undertow. Ride the wave. Take hold of that adventure and it will take you further down the beach than you planned, but you are so glad you went. Metaphor aside, I can’t share on here everything that happens to me but when I get home and you get me talking, I can tell you stories for hours. I can only give you a taste of India. As time goes on I find that everything is merely a taste of India until you are there are are submerged in it: the flavors, colors, sounds, and sights.


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You'll get more than what I'm telling you here too.

The tribal woman. Just look at how
spacious the trees are!