The Return! (India, post pandemic...)

I say "another" because, not mentioned in the previous blog, I took my first one from Hampi to Bangalore. It is surely a form of torture for any typical westerner! Noisy, wildly swaying, hot then cold... people getting on and off, lights glaring through the windows... calling it a "sleeper" bus is the misnomer of the century!! I may have slept a couple hours in the early part of morning, only from sheer exhaustion. However, because flying is expensive and the trains are next to impossible to book (They almost ALWAYS have huge waiting lists! SO crazy!!), one sometimes has no other choice when traveling a substantial distance.  So it was that, with great trepidation, I boarded my second sleeper bus, this time to Coimbatore (in the state of Karnataka), for the purpose of rejoining my Russian tour group and attending the famed Mahashivaratri at the Isha Center/ashram there (home of the well-known Sadguru).  I arrived--not surprisingly--sleep-deprived and moody. Still,

 I must confess, the severely torturous day was not without SOME fun/interesting moments, but by and large, it ranks among one of the worst of my travels in India!!  If I had known in advance what was in store, I would NEVER have agreed to go with this group! In fact, we were told--after we departed from the temple cave-- it would take about  8 hours by car to reach our next destination of Hampi. I already had a taste of the swami's skewed sense of time and distance; namely, that he always GREATLY underestimated both!!! Even so, when it turned out that the estimation of eight hours was SO wildly off--and that the ACTUAL time was nearly DOUBLE what he told us it would be-- I had no choice but to resign myself to this long day of extreme torture!   Here is the detailed account of what ensued on this "road trip from hell":  First off, getting this group ready to go anywhere-- or stay within the parameters of an allotted time for ANY function-- was an exercise in absolute fut

The Russian group preceeded me to our next destination: a town about 3 hours south of Karad... then, onward to a most amazing temple built right into the rock of a mountain. Hence, "Cave Temple".  While they all piled into a very cramped van for this journey, I came later, by public bus, so that I could finish teaching my lessons in the Alankar Hotel. It was a bit nerve wracking, this journey... I had not ridden on a bus by myself in India since 1990, and that one had been quite a disaster! (A whole other story, for another time!) SO... I was rather nervous about it.  As it turned out, though, I needn't have worried: The conductor of the bus spoke decent enough English and understood where I was going. There was plenty of room for my luggage (unlike that last bus before, where it all had to travel with me in my lap!!), and the trip was pleasant and uneventful.  The drama began after I arrived in the town: first of all, the van's driver, who was supposed to pick me up,

 Yes, indeed... the group of Russians finally arrived from Goa and we were happy to meet them in a city park (back in Karad).  Besides Manakshi Giri, there were 4 "spiritual tourists": Alena, Sergei, Sanal and Saglara.  Now began the whackiest tour I have ever been a particpant on! In fact, it was my first time EVER being part of a group tour in India....ditto for Swamiji, who, as a "wandering sadhu", was accustomed to traveling solo (except for the past few months, during which his new follower, Manakshi, joined him in his wanderings.)  The idea of this tour was a "spiritual pilgrimage", to holy places-- temples, ashrams and the like-- where most western tourists would be unlikely to go.  This was partly owing to the obscurity of many such places, and partly because many such spots were out-of-the-way, not your standard variety of tourist destinations.  I thus became a "tag-along" tourist in this group... the token American! It was frustrating a

 As the sun rose on my third--and final--day on the mountain top, Swamiji and I did our hatha yoga outside, in front of the ashram building.  Glorious to do the postures outside, in the orange glow of sunrise...  Then, he got the idea to create a threshold to the entrance of the main ashram room, made out of muddy water mixed with cow dung... a truly dirty and messy business! (This is one sadhu not afraid to get "down and dirty", as it were... !) But...later that eve, it proved to be somewhat disasterous! What happened was that some village men brought a hose into the building to fill up a tank of water inside. The huge tank sat above the bathroom; the idea being that there would be "running" water of sorts for bathing,  and to "flush" the hole-in-the-floor toilet.  But... the operation got out of control: water went everywhere, the "threshold" turned into a muddy, gooey mess that got tracked into our living space (which I had spent about 3 hours

 Though it had a somewhat traumatic beginning owing to the monkey capers, the remaining two days on the mountain top brought truly wonderful experiences. I communed with the beautiful village people and domestic animals (namely, the buffaloes!); enjoyed the peacefulness of nature; and meditated in the ancient and powerful yogi caves. I truly felt honored to be amonst the rarest of tourists in India who get to experience such a magical place. It was most memorable, and I hope to be back!  First series--the caves: The African Baba has a mission to "Save the Caves"... namely, to protect and preserve them... to keep them from becoming desecrated by people who visit, merely to have a romantic triste or to picnic. They play awful music on ghetto blasters, leave their trash behind and just generally disrespect these sacred abodes of ancient yogis. I totally support his mission, because I had a personal experience of their power: I meditated in them, and they were some of the best m