Joining the Human Garland

How many pilgrims does it take to encircle a mountain nine miles around, in a chaotic twelve to twenty body wide ring?  Once the decision was made to join the human garland there was no turning back, no choice but to continue onward all the way around.  We were there to celebrate Siva in his fire aspect, entering an extremely old tradition in the deep south of India to spend the full moon night walking barefoot all the way around the base of Mt. Arunachala.  Like any other event in India, there is a fabulous mix of the sacred with pure festive carnival fun.  Aside from merely walking, there were dozens of temples and holy sites along the path at which to pray, touch fire, offer, or whisper in the ears of the gods.  

An Artist's Impermanent Honoring of Hanuman

We started out boldly, yet lamely, Aeryk with a freshly broken toe, and both of us with feet burned by the blazing mountain stairs from earlier in the 105 degree day.  Night made a better climate for a hike, but I'll admit the pain started in the first kilometer and I was inwardly whiny on and off.  I prayed to Siva for the strength to endure the pain, since completion of the loop was past the time of choice.  We were swept by the joyous crowd, and kept the pace.  Many pilgrims fast for this, but clearly not all, as vendors are everywhere selling roasted corn, fresh juices, coconuts, and even tupperware(?!?) and other "impulse" buys.  

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A Friendly Face from the Road (daytime)

While some walkers rang little bells and chanted their way around, others in pure devoted silence, those chatting with their companions were also not out of place.  We experienced, alternately, kilometers of pure joy and amazement, kilometers of suffering, followed by bliss again.  I experienced real fear just once, as we reached the ground zero of Tiruvannamalai's famous temple complex, as hundreds massed around a huge fire at an entrance.  We were being simultaneously pushed by those wanting to get closer to the fire, those who had been pushed too close and were trying to get away unharmed, and those just trying to get around the circuit.  I had a few moments in which I understood how easy it would be to get swept underfoot and trampled by the crowd, as does happen a few times each year at Indian religious gatherings.  

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Touch the Fire - one of hundreds of little prayer flames around the Mountain

All along the journey there were beggars and holy men looking for handouts, and in keeping with tradition we were fairly free with the rupees.   I was unprepared nonetheless for the encampment of human suffering lined up just past the temple on the trail lying in the street mostly unable to jangle their bowls or do more than cry out - and some beyond even outcry.  People with fresh amputations, deformed limbs, diseases horrific to witness, some must have been put there with bowls for they surely couldn't get themselves anywhere.  I resolved then I'd better suck it up and quit my whining...I'm lucky to have two feet that get to feel this pain.  

Amazingly, when we awoke the next morning after our four hour barefoot hike we felt great.  Good enough to enjoy an outdoor yoga practice on "Siva's Lap" at the foot of the mountain.  Maybe it's full moon magic, but we found ourselves energetic and ready to walk some more, hike to caves, untroubled by the blazing summer heat. 

 Now we are back in Mysore, packing to come home.  Miraculously it has rained...the first real rain since we arrived, and the day feels cool, almost like home.  It makes me feel truly ready to be back in Oly.

 

One Step at a Time

The view from near the caves...

I can see why the rishis men like it up here. The holy mountain Arunachala is said to have healing powers. Even thinking on the majesty of the sacred hill and it's temple can confer benefits to the body, mind, and soul as it has 'since time immemorial' as the books say. We gave it a shot. We burned our feet scrambling up to check out the caves, home to the Ramana Maharishi and his mother when they lived there. We found out later that barefootedness is NOT required to scale the hill, only most auspicious for the circumnambulation. The caves are an amazing contrast to the bustling 'sleeping village' we expected to find. Our timing was excellent- after exerting ourselves all day, we learned the full moon walk around was scheduled for Monday, not Tuesday. After 5 miles of dayhike, we rested poolside and prepared to do the 9 mile circuit.

A garland of 10,000 pilgrims encircles Shiva's Mountain.

This was the scene as we hit the road. We figured starting @ 7;30pm was the best strategy to get done by midnight. By 8am the auspiciousness of the event would be over. I had no idea that in the 4 hours we decided to do this that the population would swell. It was like getting out of a concert, walking in a parade, and being at the county fair all in one. Vendors lined the street, housewives cooked from their stoops offering tiffin meals for the 4-6 guests she had room for. All the ashrams and temples were open and lit up.

#4,389... #4,389... now serving #4,389...

Keep in mind that we have been overloaded with trains, busses, rickshaws, and countless beggars and saddhus to navigate through. With my toe, I should have stayed home and propped up my foot. But this  is India!

Maybe I should have had THIS guy check out my foot.

We actually survived. The next morning it was as if it were a dream; no vendors, bus lots empty, some garbage, but mostly life back to normal. Our feet hurt and tired, survived with only minor damage. It felt like they were getting tattooed for those 4 hours. But that's how you do it here. You just keep walking. Our trip continued to have ups and downs. We saved $20 by taking busses instead of taxis, but were given bad info half the time. There always seems to be somebody to help out though, if like the mountain one stands quiet and listens to the wisdom coming up the hills from the temples.

If this express bus stops, don't get on...

aeryk

I'm no doctor, but I know what sucks...

Tanlines mean uneven sun exposure, swelling means soft tissue damage, red streak on the inside pinky-toe means it's broken.

I am officially tired of bucket baths. I still enjoy the novelty, I just don't trust them. Yesterday Vivian was bucket-bathing when she slipped off her stool, landing on her tailbone. She is fine, but was amazed at the pain the 6" drop caused. I stepped out of a cracked bucket, didn't quite clear it, and heard the bucket crack further. Yeah, that's what I heard. The bucket really was more cracked, and after walking it off for a few hours I admitted that the toe was as well. It's not the first time I've broken a toe, but it has been about 30 years since this has happened. I'm doing well going slow in sandals, but I have only one week to get ready for shoes. I attended the led primary class today, with only slight modifications like Janu Sirsasana-C and every jumpback. We have a final bit of minor travel before we end here, and had just finished finalizing reservations and train tickets when the toe thing happened. And we were supposed to climb Chamundi Hill, the 1000-step beacon in the south of Mysore today. That will wait, but our Tamil Nadu trip to Tiruvannamalai will include a 8 1/2 mile walk around the holy mountain Arunanchala. You can google those to see pics, or wait until we get back! This is one of the most sacred sites in India. (they all say that) There are ashrams, caves, temples, shrines, lingams, and much more fun to see as we join thousands of pilgrims observing giripradakshina, or going around the mountain, which is the personification of Siva himself! All ills are said to be cured, even insanity and past sins, so it's gotta be good for my toe. All I must do is catch a rickshaw, take two trains, arrange a ride 100km south, and check into the hotel before something else happens. If it does, I'll be off to another temple.

aeryk

Walking through the Hood

It's either a Purple Moorhen aka 'the acid turkey' or a snipe...

Trying to catch these guys in all their color-changing splendor gives me empathy for the Bigfoot hunters. Even if you see one it doesn't mean the lighting is right, or you are close enough, or the camera is steady, or that they will stay in the shot. All it means is that you've had another one-that-got-away encounter. Vivian caught up to this lady who was five feet off the ground climbing through some reeds. You can make out several shades of purplish-blue (guaranteed to have changed by the next shot) and the red crown. I'm done talking about them, just like all y'all are probably tired of hearing the coconut report. We actually do more than walk, yoga, and eat. We just don't take enough pictures, apparently.

 I bet this guy lights the disco ball on the Full Moon.

Here are a few shots of some of the coolest abodes on one of our favorite streets. This one belongs to an astrologer. It has Buddhist overtones with a stunning mirrored living room. Full glass panes are still quite rare. Most windows still have bars on the open windows, covered with old-school shutters. This house probably has AC and a generator.

Three colors, two views, one set of shadows

Last year I shot pictures of this place being renovated, with it's stick scaffolding and piles if bricks, blocks, and sand like all the other work sites. This rambler feels like Fred Flintstone meets 2001. Simple lines hiding complex ideas. This next gem across the street needs a whole day to shoot, but there is always somebody staring when I walk by. Turrets, brickwork, porthole windows, a mural on the side wall, and the craziest gate on the block inspire me to rate this as one of the top homes in Mysore.

Things aren't all getting bigger and better. On the way home from outings I often pass by the loneliest clothes merchant in one of the tiniest shops I've seen yet. They are at risk of being overwhelmed by their own parking lot. I'm not sure that the second, larger sign is helping...They have T-shirts and men's underwear displayed out front.

The root of the problem of these small ma-and-pa shops going under isn't only about the economic turndowns, corporate advertising and availability, access to stronger trading of product. It's just not great fashion for these kids of today.

Hey Mysore, the eighties called. They want their style back...

aeryk

Saluting the Sun at the Mysore Palace

Over 200 Yogis Join to Benefit Odanadi Seva Trust

This week, instead of sleeping in, our Mysore Ashtanga community spent the morning at the Mysore Palace, on the mat in full sun.  We have heard that Ashtanga yogis in over 30 countries around the world joined us to practice 108 sun salutations on this day to benefit Odanadi, an organization that rescues and rehabilitates children and women from situations of human trafficking.
Aeryk and I donated money, bought the shirts, and rolled out our mats between young
participants who have been taught Ashtanga yoga as part of their amazing rehabilitation program.

Aeryk makes new yoga friends - Lots of them!

These young yogis rushed to meet us with great enthusiasm.  Bursting with excitement about the event, most of them were to have an opportunity to lead a sun salutation for the first time.  One fourteen year old confided she had been practicing hard to be in shape for this event.  They told us about their home at Odanadi, and their program that teaches them yoga, art, theater, and dance as well as traditional schooling.

 Me and my Friends getting ready to rock out Surya Namaskara


    Having attended many concerts, dramas, and art programs in India I knew to expect that the start time might be somewhat flexible.  I also knew that no performance or event can happen here without a panel of speeches to come first.  I was prepared to be patient.  Some of the other Westerners did not come with that expectation, and as the morning sun started to heat up our mats some of them looked nervous.
Once we got going, things went fairly smoothly.  Each Odanadi youth called a salutation, and each one was a little unique.  They were mostly fast paced, but then I think we were all hoping to get through them before the sun god Surya took our homage too seriously.

Rangoli and Flowers in front of our Mats

  It was a beautiful event to be part of, and though we did not wind up doing as many salutations as the studios participating worldwide, I like to think ours were special enough to make up for not completing the full cycle.  It was a beautiful morning to be a part of.  Any who read this blog should go to the website  www.yogastopstraffick.org to check it out.  If you watch the wonderful video you will see the young people we practiced with.  It feels really good to be part of a yoga movement that puts good back out into the world, and to see the role our yoga can take to empower and give confidence where it is needed.

vivian

Now Past the Moon's Shadows

 Stare at me long enough, and you'll get your picture taken.

This experience can be challenging. 

We have voluntarily placed ourselves in an environment ready to notice our differences be they cultural, racial, or just fashion-based. It doesn't help things that I am unusual in my own country, and here it can feel magnified. It's not that there is judgment per se, but if we walk around people can't help but to trip out and stare. Or they will quickly grab the kid to point out the foreigners. They are certainly amused by my girlish locks or my so-bright-it-must-be-paint tattoo work. Next year I want to wear a shirt that says "I don't represent my whole country." But if you get someone to talk one-on-one, it can be turned around. We have met a few older 'lake-walkers' who are interested in the politics of their nation and it's place in the world. In these moments I am fortunate to share the positive outlooks and similarities between us, rather the gaps in our natures. I can represent myself and my country well, and feel less outside of things. Not that I've become over-sentimental or patriotic, I just am willing to be open to those I meet in the demographics I'm most comfortable with; under 6 or over 60. 

Fishbone shadows play on spines, rising into dark canopies

The season is changing, and with it our ambitions. The heat now steady confronts our daily to-do lists. Quick winds stir up the parched ground, wind carrying with it the reminders that time too is passing through the leaves. Though still much entrenched in our "India Experience" we can't help but turn our focus to what is left for us here and what awaits us back home, compounded by the uncertainty of both ends of the journey. I can add a few more glib riffs, churn a few phrases into comedy ghee, but some of what has truly affected me or changed within can't or shouldn't be shared here. To quote one drunk audience member at a playback performance: "It's too deep." Yeah, this would certainly be too deep for her, but I can share it with the rest of y'all when I get back. I still hope to slam a few blogs out before we leave, while there are still some public-worthy words left.

aeryk

Change

Sir, empty your pockets and step away from the cash register...

Change.

This time I'm not talking about some metaphor like it's a simile wrapped in an innuendo, covered with vague, and sprinkled with dogmatic bon mots. No. This time I speak of the cold, hard, tangible reality; that emblem of a civilized commercial society that has gone on, as the locals put it, "since time immemorial"... cash. 

The deal in India with money is interesting and complex. It is highly regarded as a gift from the gods themselves and is often treated as such when it is not treated like the rest of the highway it rides. Blessings are made over each transaction in shops that display Ganesh, Lakshmi, or other deity of choice. Great care is taken by many to keep money in order and clean. If I were to present a ripped or holed bill, it may be refused. Yeah, just like that. And after I hand it with my right hand and everything. It doesn't matter that I didn't burn it, THEY just don't want the negativity from me. I have displayed out-of-circulation bills at the studio. They are cute and rarely seen. Nowadays, all the money has Gandhi on it. Oh, the irony. There are several languages on each bill, several watermarks and anti-counterfit strips that the clerks love to check, and all the money is differently colored and sized. For the blind and illiterate it would come easier than dealing with our cash. The lowest denomination is a five-rupee note, about 10 cents worth. It is also illegal to leave the country with Indian money. I found this out after my first trip. Oops. 

Despite the color, size, and alpha-numeric differences displayed in their varietous plumage, there isn't enough of it. Apparently anywhere. They will 'sell' it at the airport for a charge, also inside temples one can get a stack of coins at a mark up to give back to the stalls inside. But if you ask for any, nobody has it. Rickshaw drivers will NEVER have change, so don't ask. Mom & pop stores (about 80% of small businesses) will rifle through a tin, then say no. Newspapers often cost in rupee and 'paise' or half-rupee, which they will never, ever seem to find. They will always ask you the consumer whose job it is to provide exact change at all times. When you don't, you will get a look back home seen only by the greatest 13-year-old girls, the dreaded 'stink-eye.' They will roll their eyes, sigh, then really, really, slowly count back your change. It's as if they personally had to give me their 7 rupees. Often (usually) they won't have change, and will instead give me candy. Actually, by doing this, they are making me BUY a piece of candy for the remaining 2 or 3 rupees we are talking about. And it's usually something I can't eat. They told me at the pharmacy that they were giving me chocolate, and I smiled like I was admitting that it was my fault we were even having this discussion. As I left, I saw it wasn't chocolate. They were cough drops.

Now I feel sick.

aeryk

Random Specifics

The Collector of Discarded Dreams

Karanji Lake, Mysore

Yes, we are alive and well. 

The heat is something to behold and Vivian and I will hereafter be careful of what we ask for. There is a newer, different way of 'surviving' India each time we come, each time the variation is presented. With temperatures topping 100 this week we welcome refuge where we find it. The shala has been surprisingly cool the last couple of days, before that it was dripping before we started at 4:30am. Our apartment never cools off less than 85, we guess, so our morning naps are important! In fact, everything slows down or closes down midday. We have been watching DVD's of Planet Earth so we can see footage of cool waters and oceans and ice in the hopes that we will cool off through our eyes.

There is still indoor wildlife to battle daily: 3 varieties of ants, cockroaches,  roach imposters, mosquitos, and two huge flying bugs... and bedbugs of some sort. 

 

This guy's on our side.

 Of course we have spiders and these house geckos working on our team.

Beyond our walls we have recently seen a grass snake, toads at 4am, skinks, an iguana-looking reptile, and possibly a mongoose. This is in the city limits.

 

"On a long enough timeline, everything returns to zero."

Tyler Derden, Fight Club.

I was mesmerized by this freshly burned area. We often see these flash-burn areas, some controlled and set along borders and others random, or destructively started. Change is inevitable. It has been hard to stay focused for me here; part of me stepping in this experience, part already treading in my future returned-self path. I am left wondering about what I have burned away in my journey, what have I found to plant the next forest. There is also so much to be said collectively and individually that cannot be shared on these airwaves, but there will be nuggets to be revealed in a safer environment. There is also the test of patience here as we sit amid swarms if info, tidbits, and gossip that require distillation before action. By the next day the information may be different, or at least not worth repeating. But rest assured, we will bring back the spirit of the shala.

  

aeryk

Pilgrimage to Nanjangud

Lord Nanjundeshwara under remodeling

Two Tiny Worshipers look up to Siva

One of my favorite things about India is that as tourists we can visit the actual physical location of the myths we read about back home.  Faced with an extra day off from the Shala, Aeryk and I hopped a train, costing all of 20 cents, to the Shaivite pilgrimage center of Nanjangud.  Worshipers have been coming to this town nestled on the edge of the Kabini River for over one thousand years to visit the Lord Nanjundeshwara Temple, the place where the old stories say that Siva swallowed poison to save the Universe from destruction.  

One of the Tallest Gopurna in Karnataka 

Part of one of the Oldest Temples in India

A sweltering lazy day, most pilgrims, including us, rested up in the shade before entering the Temple.

Going into a large Hindu temple is a little like entering a carnival.  There are lots of bodies shuffling from one deity or puja to the next, and Aeryk and I allowed ourselves to be swept up with the herd, armed with small rupee coins like ride tickets.

Every Image is Adorned with Fresh Foliage and Flowers

Inside the Temple there is almost too much to see, literally more than one hundred separate linga of a variety of sizes and ranging in age from 200 to 1100 years, as well as a great variety of God and Goddess statues tucked into alcoves,  some of them completely buried in flowers.  Out of respect for our surroundings we  refrained from taking pictures inside other than this one that Aeryk discretely snapped out of the corner of his pocket -  and a couple of the resident temple cat.    Shuttled from one alcove to the next, there were many sacred fires, many priests, many blessings.  A highlight was squishing through a great metal doorway to witness through the mass of bodies as the priests ritually bathed an ancient Siva Lingam and then pelted us with spoonfuls of specially herbed water.  Another stop, worshipers circling a rounded statuary of all the Gods of the Planets, was especially magnificent to watch .  Participants looked a bit like planets themselves as they orbited the sacred images and their little flames.  Every blessing comes with a little toll, a plate one decorates with coins.  There is even a "money changer" priest that sells coins...Now I know where they hide all the change in this country!   

 

A bit of history in the Kabini River

As full of blessings as we could handle, and our rupees nearly spent, Aeryk and I headed outside to the Ghats, the sacred bathing site, and to be honest, town swimming hole.  Dozens of men and women were taking the plunge, and in the near hundred degree heat, there was a lot of laughter and joy involved.  I took no photos there, as the only foreign lady in town I did not want to get attention for snapping shots of naked Indian men.  Instead we focused our attention down stream at this beautiful vestige of the past.  Other than a man doing his laundry we had this spot to ourselves, only for the price of hopping rocks over garbage water.

  

The Unfortunate Usual - Garbage Surrounds the Sacred

 

We contemplated the beauty and appreciated the history, but in spite of the voraciously healthy looking fish abundantly seen at the water's edge, and the high spirits of the bathers, neither of us particularly felt drawn to wade through the trash.  We wandered off to find a quick bus to Mysore.

The Gentle Herd at Rest by the River

Aeryk's Last Gaze at the Kabini Ghats

(no it's not a superhero cape...it's a travel bag!)

 The Ubiquitous South Indian Serpents

Post Script to our Adventure:

If one remembers the myth this town and temple are built on, the Gods and Demons churn the Ocean in search of nectar, but before they yield the good, poison erupts from the waters.  Siva in his form Lord Nanjundeshwara swallows the poison and saves all the worlds.  Parvati saves Siva by grasping his throat so the poison doesn't go down and kill him.  Narada holds his mouth so he doesn't vomit it out.  Well, none of those deities were apparently on hand to bail us out.  Aeryk and I came home with a violent poisonous gift from Nanjangud, one of the classic India vomiting and fever illnesses one hears about.  We must have swallowed plenty for all the illness we experienced for the days after.  I'll remember next time to read the fine print on any stories I decide to visit.  

Vivian 

By Special Request...

 

10 seconds to spot the parrot... Go !

The problem with nature photography is that the subjects are presenting their colors in the most spectacular ways right up until the moment that a camera is pointed at them. Then they get shy, or just have an attitude. It would also help if our camera was a bit better on the zoom, without losing quality. I guess most if this is one of those 'ya had ta see it' moments. Around the lake we have seen (and tried to photograph) many colorful birds. School-bus yellow finch-like fliers, iridescent blue 'acid-turkeys,' glowing green sparrows-- there ARE many here to see. It's just hard to get them to commit to the photoshoot.

Take it quick, take it quick! Yes! 

Of course, the credit for these wildlife photos goes to Vivian. She has the patience to get the job done. I'm good with temples that won't move out of the shot. We still have yet to get a spotting guide for all this wildlife we're seeing, but our walks are nice without making them projects. Here's some color though---

 

 Today is Holi, the festival of colors. Young men will gather and color each other in powders and waters in a animated display of bravado. Others will get swept up in the frenzy, adding to the panorama of pastels. Sorry for the colorful crack in these photos. Like Olympia, some local youth insist on a 'no-belt, man' policy. These hues are about as vivid as the birds we've seen. The colors were seen yesterday, much like our Third of July warm-ups, only with less bottle-rocket fights.

Here's an unrelated photo for Russ the Librarian who requested our theme today.

Bengalese on the move in the Srikanteshwara Temple's inner sanctum; Nanjangud, India.

More about temples, gardens, waking up sick, and spotting house gecko's later.

aeryk