Linda: Orange Robes Does Not the Sadhu Make, Jan 11
Just a little touch of humor, and a dip back into reality. There was a young sadhu at the top of Arunachula who served us tea. We had given the group a small amount of money in appreciation (small to us anyway - $1.00, but quite a lot here), which is a common practice. This young man offered to guide us around the Arunachula the next day and we had his phone number. The Hindu devotee who was with us felt responsible for our little group, and he asked someone in the ashram about the young men on the hill. “Mischevious boys” was the answer. It seems that taking money for tea at the top of the mountain is frowned upon. Traditionally, that was a gift of the sadhus to those who climbed. Taking advantage of trusting tourists was considered quite “mischevious”. At any rate, we were guided to another person who would be a good guide – the one we had.
And, on a similar tangent, beggars do not the poor make. As we were going around Arunachula, we were on the outskirts of a field and two thin women came out to beg. We’d only seen 4 people on the inner path, so, for a change, seeing someone was something of a novelty. Our guide gave one of the women a rupee and took advantage of the gift to ask questions. It seems that his woman owned all the land that we were walking near – and she had relatives in the US that sent her money regularly. Eleanor’s suspicions were aroused by noticing that the woman’s nose rings were gold – real gold. The two women were quite well off and just thought it was fun to see what they could get from the tourists. It was not mean spirited – just “’mischevious”, and helped me to raise my awareness levels to a higher level again. Which is a good thing. The incidents taught me how to look deeper and ask more questions in this new country.
Still, there is great need here and most people we have met have been generous and honest, and I haven’t met anyone yet who was threatening or menacing. Taking advantage of tourists is fair game – after all, we’re “rich” – and we are. We are very fortunate to live in a land where one can find work, can feed one’s family, and, in need, get the medical, food, and monetary help needed to get by.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Linda: Climbing Arunachula, Jan 9
Linda: Climbing Arunachula, Jan 9
The top of Arunachula is sacred to Shiva and is represented by the element of fire. It is said that Shiva manifested himself in the form of fire on this mountain, and as a mercy to mankind, kept the fire small so his presence could continue to be felt.
Yesterday, Patrick and Matthew climbed Arunachula. Afterwards, a woman approached Patrick, asking if he would guide her up to the top of the mountain, to which Patrick agreed. My husband was close at hand and asked if the woman was Persian, to which she answered, “Yes.” Several questions later made the happy realization that they had several common friendships, and as this transpired, it was realized that we had met this woman ten years earlier in Bloomington through a mutual friend and had even invited her to our house! Kindred spirits do find one another – even in far away lands.
Today, Patrick escorted Eleanor, myself, this Persian woman, and a Hindu devotee of Ramana up to the top of the mountain. It is quite a scramble over boulders and rocks and I quickly found the return of mountain muscles and the exuberance of scrambling in the wild. The day was foggy with drips of drizzle and a cool breeze surrounded us – which I can assure you was very welcome. As I surveyed the clouds, I was reasonably certain we were not going to get a storm – but drizzle and cloud was likely for most of the day. The foggy, drippy day was a blessing on many counts. First, it kept us cool. Then, it blanketed the mountain and held it in a kind of mystery. It was quite clear where we were walking, and we would see glimpses of the top of the mountain intermittently as we climbed. And finally, it hid the city from us. As we traveled higher and higher, it was as if we were going into the sky, leaving the world on a different plane far, far below.
On the way up, we met a guide who was helping two people down from the mountain. He told us that the top was sacred, but the secret sacred part was actually lower down and to the right. Again, I was struck by the analogy to Bear Butte, whose top was sacred, but the secret part, the part where the Native Americans go to pray and have their vision quest is the lower ridge to the right. I was telling the guide this, trying to convey my wonder, and as we started to go on, the man he was guiding turned to me and said he was a Sundancer with the Lakota tribe, the same tribe that I have an affiliation, and had danced on Bear Butte the previous summer. Again – how small the world and how often kindred spirits find one another. Makes one be very careful about who you want to be with!
At the top, we were greeted by three young men who climbed the mountain most days. They had a simple shelter and made hot tea with herbs and served us tea in a coconut shell – a welcome delight after a 2 hour climb. Then, we went to the very top. The rock was black and slippery with the ghee that is poured on the top during important festivals throughout the year. On the very top are two perfect footprints left in the stone, said to be left by Shiva when he left the mountain to ascend to heaven. After seeing this spot, I then went down a little way to where it was not slippery and sat on a large rock outcropping, away from all the others. All there was, was me on this rock. I couldn’t see anything behind me, only a few trees and boulders to the sides, and below me waves and waves of clouds. It was like floating on air, profoundly beautiful and peaceful and joyful. The air was penetrated by the honks of the car horns far below, reminding me that I really was not so very far away. And I thought of all those people below, living there everyday lives with their everyday hopes and their everyday worries. And I thought of my family, my friends, my students back home and felt such love pouring forth. It is said that the world cannot end as long as someone is praying somewhere for mankind. And sitting on that hill I understood how this could be so. Again, for a little moment, I was in another’s shoes and could feel the immense love that is possible, even from far away and even for someone I don’t know, and I understood the life in monasteries, convents, and hermitages a little more deeply and a little more profoundly. It is an interior life of prayer, but it is not really disconnected with the world. In a way, it is more profoundly connected than most things. Such were my thoughts, up in the clouds.
Afterwards, we scampered down the mountain – taking the wrong path, but the mountain is relatively small and down will take us to the road, no matter what. In fact, we ended up going through the “secret, sacred part” quite by accident, and indeed found a beautiful cave, secluded in the wilderness. Inside were some symbols of Shiva (lines, a trident –simple geometric symbols. The simplicity of the cave reminded me of the early Christian caves in Turkey where the desert fathers lived with their families to practice an inner life. In the beginning, all the symbols were simple geometric crosses. It wasn’t until much later that the icons, with all their profundity, became so widespread. All over, one sees the pattern repeat – which is something I love very much.
Later that night, Patrick, Matthew and I went into town to see the Arunachulshvara Temple, a magnificent 50 acre temple ground which we could see (and photograph) from the mountain. It was nighttime, and after careening in our autorickshaw through and amazing amount of traffic, we were dropped off at the east gate, where life exuded electrifying vibrancy. Happy faces everywhere, and stalls and stalls of people selling things. Interspersed were dogs, bullocks, and people sleeping here and there while families laughed and talked and played. We ate a delicious meal ($1.00 for soup, bread with a curry, another baked dish, fried rice, and ice cream) and then explored the temple grounds. The inner part was locked, in preparation for the full moon festival tomorrow, but the rest of the compound was open. It is an exquisite temple, built after the Pallava period. The stonework is more refined and detailed and very beautiful. The gopula is covered with beautiful statues and are truly beyond description. Inside is happy festivity. Children selling flowers, a woman selling rice cakes that you can give to women in need of food – she’ll even direct you to the women most in need so that everyone gets enough. And!! A temple elephant! It is our first elephant in India, and animal associated with Shiva, whose temple this is. The elephant’s head is painted in a simple design, and if you give it a coin, the elephant will give you a blessing – a rather firm thump on the head with its trunk! Everyone there was so happy – somehow that thump by an elephant just makes you burst with happiness!
The top of Arunachula is sacred to Shiva and is represented by the element of fire. It is said that Shiva manifested himself in the form of fire on this mountain, and as a mercy to mankind, kept the fire small so his presence could continue to be felt.
Yesterday, Patrick and Matthew climbed Arunachula. Afterwards, a woman approached Patrick, asking if he would guide her up to the top of the mountain, to which Patrick agreed. My husband was close at hand and asked if the woman was Persian, to which she answered, “Yes.” Several questions later made the happy realization that they had several common friendships, and as this transpired, it was realized that we had met this woman ten years earlier in Bloomington through a mutual friend and had even invited her to our house! Kindred spirits do find one another – even in far away lands.
Today, Patrick escorted Eleanor, myself, this Persian woman, and a Hindu devotee of Ramana up to the top of the mountain. It is quite a scramble over boulders and rocks and I quickly found the return of mountain muscles and the exuberance of scrambling in the wild. The day was foggy with drips of drizzle and a cool breeze surrounded us – which I can assure you was very welcome. As I surveyed the clouds, I was reasonably certain we were not going to get a storm – but drizzle and cloud was likely for most of the day. The foggy, drippy day was a blessing on many counts. First, it kept us cool. Then, it blanketed the mountain and held it in a kind of mystery. It was quite clear where we were walking, and we would see glimpses of the top of the mountain intermittently as we climbed. And finally, it hid the city from us. As we traveled higher and higher, it was as if we were going into the sky, leaving the world on a different plane far, far below.
On the way up, we met a guide who was helping two people down from the mountain. He told us that the top was sacred, but the secret sacred part was actually lower down and to the right. Again, I was struck by the analogy to Bear Butte, whose top was sacred, but the secret part, the part where the Native Americans go to pray and have their vision quest is the lower ridge to the right. I was telling the guide this, trying to convey my wonder, and as we started to go on, the man he was guiding turned to me and said he was a Sundancer with the Lakota tribe, the same tribe that I have an affiliation, and had danced on Bear Butte the previous summer. Again – how small the world and how often kindred spirits find one another. Makes one be very careful about who you want to be with!
At the top, we were greeted by three young men who climbed the mountain most days. They had a simple shelter and made hot tea with herbs and served us tea in a coconut shell – a welcome delight after a 2 hour climb. Then, we went to the very top. The rock was black and slippery with the ghee that is poured on the top during important festivals throughout the year. On the very top are two perfect footprints left in the stone, said to be left by Shiva when he left the mountain to ascend to heaven. After seeing this spot, I then went down a little way to where it was not slippery and sat on a large rock outcropping, away from all the others. All there was, was me on this rock. I couldn’t see anything behind me, only a few trees and boulders to the sides, and below me waves and waves of clouds. It was like floating on air, profoundly beautiful and peaceful and joyful. The air was penetrated by the honks of the car horns far below, reminding me that I really was not so very far away. And I thought of all those people below, living there everyday lives with their everyday hopes and their everyday worries. And I thought of my family, my friends, my students back home and felt such love pouring forth. It is said that the world cannot end as long as someone is praying somewhere for mankind. And sitting on that hill I understood how this could be so. Again, for a little moment, I was in another’s shoes and could feel the immense love that is possible, even from far away and even for someone I don’t know, and I understood the life in monasteries, convents, and hermitages a little more deeply and a little more profoundly. It is an interior life of prayer, but it is not really disconnected with the world. In a way, it is more profoundly connected than most things. Such were my thoughts, up in the clouds.
Afterwards, we scampered down the mountain – taking the wrong path, but the mountain is relatively small and down will take us to the road, no matter what. In fact, we ended up going through the “secret, sacred part” quite by accident, and indeed found a beautiful cave, secluded in the wilderness. Inside were some symbols of Shiva (lines, a trident –simple geometric symbols. The simplicity of the cave reminded me of the early Christian caves in Turkey where the desert fathers lived with their families to practice an inner life. In the beginning, all the symbols were simple geometric crosses. It wasn’t until much later that the icons, with all their profundity, became so widespread. All over, one sees the pattern repeat – which is something I love very much.
Later that night, Patrick, Matthew and I went into town to see the Arunachulshvara Temple, a magnificent 50 acre temple ground which we could see (and photograph) from the mountain. It was nighttime, and after careening in our autorickshaw through and amazing amount of traffic, we were dropped off at the east gate, where life exuded electrifying vibrancy. Happy faces everywhere, and stalls and stalls of people selling things. Interspersed were dogs, bullocks, and people sleeping here and there while families laughed and talked and played. We ate a delicious meal ($1.00 for soup, bread with a curry, another baked dish, fried rice, and ice cream) and then explored the temple grounds. The inner part was locked, in preparation for the full moon festival tomorrow, but the rest of the compound was open. It is an exquisite temple, built after the Pallava period. The stonework is more refined and detailed and very beautiful. The gopula is covered with beautiful statues and are truly beyond description. Inside is happy festivity. Children selling flowers, a woman selling rice cakes that you can give to women in need of food – she’ll even direct you to the women most in need so that everyone gets enough. And!! A temple elephant! It is our first elephant in India, and animal associated with Shiva, whose temple this is. The elephant’s head is painted in a simple design, and if you give it a coin, the elephant will give you a blessing – a rather firm thump on the head with its trunk! Everyone there was so happy – somehow that thump by an elephant just makes you burst with happiness!
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