Shout Out #22
Trip Start
Jun 05, 2006
1
25
41
Trip End
Ongoing
Jaipur,
India
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Below the pools I relaxed in a little garden space while Caroline took a dip in the appropriate (bottom tier) pool. A holy man from the temple sat down near me. He had a thick beard, the mark of the god he worships on his forehead, an orange lungi (skirtlike cloth wrap), and prayer beads around his neck. We spoke different languages so we made a few gestures and sat enjoying the sunny day in silence. I had a few guys translate something he particularly tried to express. He said it (the area we were in) was the paradise of India. Few people have a presence like his. While we sat I couldn't stop looking over at him. Without saying much, I knew he would be doing exactly what he was doing even if he were offered vast rewards for other pursuits. He was clearly content in his skin.
01
Rumors of 10 day meditation courses floated around during much of my travels. A few kilometers from Galta a Vipassana center offers one such course. I decided to stop in and ask about the next session. In speaking with the man at the center I knew I had to sign up. The next course started in 10 days.
The women and men had to sit on separate sides of the long, central aisle- families could sit together. Thousands were expected to arrive so I went an hour early to grab a seat near the front. Amma would be hugging all night and I didn't want to wait. A burst of fireworks signalled the entry and Amma proceeded down the aisle with an entourage of associates and photographers swarming along. Once she'd taken her place and blessed a few of the associates, the ceremony began with speeches I didn't understand...and it continued with speeches I didn't understand...and it continued...and continued. The speeches kept beginning without ever ending. From what I reckoned, every political figure in the region took the opportunity to bestow wisdom, with varying degrees of zeal, on the large gathering. Upon recovering after every time I nodded off, I took slight concern over whether others in the crowd thought me disrespectful. There was a slideshow with pictures of charities and certain charitable projects, several sewing machines were given away, blessings were made for some of the important people popping up on stage, and a couple hours into the show, the scene shifted.
02
Amma moved to a forward stage, sitting cross legged, and a man remarkably resembling Waylon Smithers (in both appearance and role) sat next to her at a lower level. She spoke for a few minutes, then Smithers pulled out many typed pages and spoke monotonously for around 20 minutes. Then she spoke briefly, and he spoke from more pages, then she spoke, then he spoke.... I don't think it was any more interesting for those who understood the language. A couple hours later, the scene shifted again.
Amma said a prayer, the crowd stood, spun in a circle, and the musicians moved forward. My mood shifted completely with the music. From a very young age, Amma's had strong musical talents. Her band was superb and the songs, without knowing any of the words, were incredibly powerful. At times I was nearly in tears. "If this is how the Hindus get down then sign me up." Over an hour later the scene shifted again. The pushing began.
Everyone in the crowd was given a section number during the discourses. Those in the front had lower numbers- A1's went first, A2's...and on to at least as far as L. I was in B9. Telling a crowd of Indians they'll have to wait several hours before their number is called is like telling expert mathematicians they aren't allowed to solve an enticing equation. As soon as hugging time came around the crowd descended on the two side entries. I knew Amma had something special when her devotees managed to control the entry gates, keeping the crowd (without causing a bloodbath) from pushing and arguing further and further toward the stage. I witnessed my first miracle...a proper cue in India.
03
Depending on whether Amma was hugging for 1 second or 3 seconds I had at least an hour until my hug came around. I went away from the crowd and sat in the vacated seats. A few minutes later a large upper caste family sat next to me. Their little girl spoke to me in Hindi. I didn't notice until others in the family started laughing. Their oldest daughter (most likely in her mid-20's) had the girl ask me where I was from. I answered the little girl, asked her name, and had a great conversation with the two eldest daughters.
It began as most conversations tend to begin...how long I've been in India, where I've been, and what I've thought. I gave the rundown and told them India is the most culturally rich place I've been. It's the heart of South Asia, and, aside from having 5000 years of history with a huge diversity of cultures, Middle Eastern countries, countries in the Himalayas , and Southeast Asian countries all feed into the diversity. They were also curious about my family- my parents and how many brothers and sisters I have. My family is much different than the families with 7 children in one home. Then she dropped a tough one on me...what I sought in a wife. (How do I explain that I'm not really seeking 'a wife'?) "I want a situation where she and I both have respect for one another as independent beings with independent lives. What do you want in a husband?"
"I will not decide. My mother will choose for me and I trust her decision."
Her sister added, "It's a common thing in India. Our mother knows better than we do who will be good for us."
Traveling to various countries with largely different cultures than my own would be somewhat pointless without an open mind. The experiences would be tremendously limited by an inability to accept those from different situations than the ones I'm accustomed to. Many doors have opened in simply being accepting. I tried to see it from a different angle than my own ideal. Friends and family members frequently see through my behaviors, to the core of how I live. People are able to look at me without the distortions created by ego and ego defenses. After using this point to understand their perspectives a little better our conversation changed. More people started to listen in and the girls wanted to know more about how I saw India in comparison to the United States. They ultimately left to get some prasad (holy food- nectar of the gods) and asked if I'd like to join. My number was almost up so I stayed behind.
04
A man on my left leaned over with questions about my home, whether it was my first Amma experience, or if I were a devotee. He'd heard the conversation with the girls and had more curiosities. During a lull in the talk with the man on my left, a younger guy on my right broke in. He was Chakrapani. He also heard the talk with the girls and had much to say about religion and the differences between Americans and Indians. He said that if you ask an American about Christianity and certain parts of the Bible they won't be able to say. "True, but most people aren't Christian. It's a Christian country so people who aren't religious are finding their own path- there aren't as many options as there are in India." I mentioned Paramahansa Yogananda, how he brought yoga to the U.S., and how his Self Realization Fellowship offers an alternative spiritual practice; a practice focused on meditation. Chakrapani wanted to take me to a similar place in Jaipur. We made plans for the next day and my number came up for Amma.
A line of people from each side of the stage moved slowly toward the center. As I got close a devotee dressed entirely in white handed me a piece of toilet paper. It was the only scrap of TP I will probably ever be offered and it was meant for my face. The next devotee asked which language I spoke. It was my turn. He flashed Amma one finger (I spoke English), she grabbed me, said "Darling, darling, darling" and put a little gift in my palm as I moved back into the crowd. I had officially been blessed by Amma. Receiving a hug from a woman able to sit for hours because she wants to spread compassion was cool- the highlight was actually the music and the conversations with people in the crowd though.
05
All westerners were invited to sit on stage after being blessed. I took a spot among the musicians, devotees, and the other westerners. The musicians played softly while the devotees wrapped candies in little packages with tikka powder (powder used on the forehead) - the gifts she handed to each person.
Apparently random events lead to a point where the randomness vanishes and a clear link is visible. From this point in Jaipur, a seemingly random trail of events started to materialize. My perspective shifted greatly after that night. Much of it came from meeting different people and much of it came from getting a taste of the spiritual side of life in a spiritual country.
Chakrapani came by my hotel the following afternoon with a girl he knew from school. I was surprised because traditionally men and women have little social contact outside of marriage. He was surprised by my age. "You look young, yaar (dude). You can't even grow a full beard!" (It wasn't until I got to Cambodia that my voice started to change.) We decided McDonalds was the place to talk...The Family Restaurant. The fact that we were at McDonalds and that he'd brought a female acquaintance show's that he's upper caste and more contemporary. He wanted to see the girl he's in love with later that afternoon. His friend said he acts differently around this other girl...he's not himself. He agreed and said he always feels nervous around her. Talking with him brought an interesting contrast to the conversation I had with the girls at Amma.
06
A music video played on flatscreen TVs throughout the restaurant. I recognized an actress on the video from a movie I'd seen; her face is everywhere. He told me her name is Aishwarya Rai...Ash for short. She won Miss Universe in either '98 or '99. Her wedding to 'The Son of Amitabh Bachchan' was a huge upcoming event. Everytime I asked someone about the guy with the black hair and silver goatee they told me he was Big B- the goatee was a 'French Cut' (so sophisticated!). His face is probably the only face seen more frequently than Ash's. Basically, he's the kingpin of Bollywood. Considering the staggering number of films made each year, the Bollywood circle is pretty small. Gossip doesn't cover much more than the affairs discussed by a small sewing circle, yet it fills pages in the newspapers.
On the walk back from our wholesome lunch he sang words to a song I didn't recognize. I think he was hoping I'd share in his appreciation for the music- it shocked him that I didn't recognize the tune. "Don't you know the Backstreet Boys yaar? It's such a beautiful song." He sang more of the tune to try and tease my memory. "I know who they are but I don't really listen to that kind of music."
"How about Brian Adams?"
"No, I don't listen to pop much. Most of what I like doesn't get played on the radio." (Because the radio stations are controlled by evil corporations who want to spoon feed mass appeal to the masses that eat it up with bibs on.) "The groups I like aren't typically known outside the U.S. Some of the jazz guys tour Japan or Europe though."
"No Backstreet Boys or Brian Adams...where have you been man? Have you had your head in the sand?"
"Man, I'll buy you dinner if you put on some Santana or something." I was writing on the computer at my hotel and a man with loose eyes was tired of hearing Shakira. Santosh and the other restaurant employees were watching the news because Shakira just had a concert in Mumbai. The station endlessly played a clip from the concert, complete with seductive dancing and attempts at singing her latest songs.
07
The restaurant employees were excitedly watching the clip as many times as the station ran it. I personally believe Shakira and Wyclef should pool their royalties, buy back every album they sold, and issue a formal apology- watching Santosh (the restaurant manager) and the other employees was far too entertaining though. Caroline joined them on the couch in front of the TV on the far end of the room. I didn't want to disturb Santosh and Shakira but who am I to deny a man his Santana? Secretly wanting to hear someone less willing to collab with Dido, I put it on Pandora.com and let the experts do the shuffling. Santosh heard the tunes and wanted to know more about what was going on.Working at the restaurant proved to be the best option for applying his sociology degree. By now he could be much wealthier collecting bribes as a police enforcer...he likes his job too much to go that route. The restaurant gives him material for the book he plans to write about the differences in Indian and western cultures. With the new computers he was excited to learn about the internet and all the different ways it can be used. He loved being able to play music from the internet. "I'd like to listen to some Beatles." Now we're talking! That, I can do with much happiness. Chatting was his other curiosity. He wanted to know of ways to chat with people from other countries; perhaps as a further means for applying a sociology degree.
Later in the evening I sat with Caroline, Santosh came over to chat. Upon mentioning his family, Caroline asked if his marriage had been arranged. It had. In describing how it happened, he mimicked looking through a photo album. He raised his eyebrows the way he had when he first saw her picture and said, "Sure, I'll marry her!" When Caroline told him he was funny, he said, "Yes, I am funny."
"You're being funny right now."
"I am?" Santosh was always the highlight of eating at the hotel restaurant.
She then asked if they had any marriage troubles. When they first got married his wife often went to stay with her parents for long intervals after a disagreement. In time that happened much less. Had his grandmother been alive, she wouldn't have approved of the marriage. His wife's from an area known for its feisty women. Weddings, especially the arranged ones, are often focused on what the families gain (socially and economically).
I hadn't gone for a haircut since a frightening ordeal in Cambodia. Prakesh (the gem dealer with the charity projects) offered to help me remedy the situation. The barber spoke no English so Prakesh translated my wishes. All I wanted was a correction of what went wrong with the prior cut and hair left hanging over my ears. I trusted Prakesh's translation- he has a longer cut as well. The barber proceeded to hack away the hair around my ears, even using a razor to shave back hair that grew too close. By the time he was done I had the exact haircut as him- tight on the sides and back with a clean, sharp part on top. It was a haircut you can trust. With a striped tie and tan trousers I was primed for work in the insurance business. He then gave me a shave with a straight razor- hopefully for a discount because of my inability to grow a full beard- and lathered on some after-shave creams. Prakesh thought I looked good. "You were a jungle man before."
A big difficulty in adapting to the ways of India comes from not knowing why people approach me. After three hours of friendly conversation someone could drop a sales pitch. Someone else could gruffly go out of their way to help me out of a bind. Many just say hello out of friendly curiosity. It's much harder to discern intentions here. Due mostly to the percentages of past encounters, I became increasingly cautious of people's intentions. It's not at all how I like to operate; it's simply the easiest way to get to the point sometimes...particularly in Jaipur for some reason.
08
"Hey, can I ask you something?" A guy in well cut threads and sharp sunglasses was leaving McDonalds as I happened to pass. "Does it end in trying to sell me something?" With exaggeration he jumped back like I'd thrown something at his head. He only wanted to know what biodegradable meant. As I gave the definition it was obvious he had something else on his mind. He lives in Thailand 'discovering women and making men poor' and was in town visiting friends. There was a party that night with his friends, he invited me along. I'm too afraid of poverty to spend more time with someone of his profession.
Across the street another man approached with the question, "How long have you been suffering in Jaipur?" My initial thought was the Buddhist idea of this world as the realm of suffering- life being the pursuit of enlightenment and the liberation from suffering and the cycles of birth. Had I been interested in talking I would've gotten philosophical. "3 seconds" was an alternative response. Instead I said, "Longer than I originally planned." I declined his party invitation as well.
Around the corner a third guy caught me, "Excuse me, do you know what biodegradable means?"
"Someone back there just asked me the same question. It means something that knows how to go away."
The kids aren't too trustworthy but they're intentions are more clear. If they want something, they'll ask. If they like me, they'll smile (in ways that can completely make my day). If they don't like me, they'll find a way to let me know. If they're curious, they're curious. If indifferent, they're indifferent. At a restaurant I particularly enjoyed, I often watched a kid do his work. The best places to eat tend to fit a basic stereotype. This spot was the prime example of such a place. The kitchen sits out front by the sidewalk. Metal pots and plates roast on a stove fired by wood. A couple employees work clapping the dough into disks and cooking up chapati. The guy in charge sits at a table up front near the stoves, his stomach tucked under the money drawer. The restaurant is a grimy room that opens to the street and the honking traffic. The boy was the standard underling. He probably works for 20 rupees a day (50 cents) cleaning the floor, gathering dirty plates, cleaning tables, keeping water containers full, and anything else he's told to do. I took particular interest in watching this boy because he had the eyes of an adult accustomed to a life of serving others. He did his work well, with no hint of annoyance, and he carried himself much differently than the kids in western countries with easier worries. When he noticed me watching he looked me fully in the eyes- the way a man would. His look warmed and I think he realized I appreciated his work.
He watched the transaction intently as I fed his employer's belly. The owner dropped a coin, grabbed another, dropped it, and because he couldn't reach his feet, he had the boy crawl down and retrieve the change. I was leaving town the next day but the boy would be at work. He'd be there tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that..
09
