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Mamallapuram, India – My last moments in this bewildering and incredible country. In a day’s time, I fly to Singapore. Now for some review. Over six months ago I arrived from Minneapolis to the heat, hassle, and chaos of New Delhi. I left almost immediately for Ladakh in the far North of India (Jammu & Kashmir), with its thin cool air, vast mountain expanses, and Tibetan Buddhist culture. I spent the first few months wandering around the North of India: To the hashish soaked hills of Manali. To Dharamsala, the home of the Dalai Lama’s Tibetan government in exile, where I took a 10-day introductory course on Tibetan Buddhism. Then to the headwaters of the Ganges in Rishikesh. To the Taj Mahal in Agra. To the ancient and holy Hindu cities of Haridwar and Varanasi. Then up into the magical country of Nepal for trekking in the Himalayas, a 10-day vipassana meditation course, and hanging out in Kathmandu. A mad bus trip brought me back to India, to Bodhgaya in the poor and desolate state of Bihar, where I sat under the bodhi tree like the Buddha. From there I went to Jharkhand, and visited the little village of Benegaria, and the mission house in which my mother was born. On to Calcutta, home of barefoot rickshaw wallahs, cricket in the park, and mother Theresa. Then two nights straight on a train across the entire country to get to Igatpuri, near Bombay, for another 10 day meditation course.
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Moving from cold, to hot, to sweltering, I left Igatpuri and spent a couple days exploring the incredible Buddhist, Jain, and Hindu caves at Ellora and Ajanta in Maharashtra. Then to the palm tree-lined beaches of Portuguese/Christian Goa- camping out in a hut on a lagoon, playing guitar, splashing around in the Arabian Sea, sipping fresh lime soda. From Goa, I went to Mysore, with its palaces and busy central market. Then to the cool hill station of Ooty. On to sticky Kerala, eating fresh grilled prawns beside the Chinese fishing nets in Kochi, attending performances of traditional Malayalam dance and Carnatic music. Then a couple days exploring the expansive Keralan backwaters by ferry. Then to the quaint fishing village and pilgrim destination of Kanyakumari, at the very bottom of India, where the Arabian Sea, Indian Ocean, and Bay of Bengal converge. From Kanyakumari, I wandered north through various villages and cities in Tamil Nadu, each dominated by elaborately carved Hindu temples, alive with the bustle of pujas, processions, and prayers (and the occasional elephant). Then on to the French quarters of Pondicherry, where I finally found a decent cup of coffee (although I have actually acquired a taste for the bitter and ubiquitous Nescafe). A day’s visit to the sprawling international new-age utopian community of Auroville. And finally to the stone carving center of Mamallapuram, with its ancient shore temple jutting out from the beach. An early bus tomorrow morning takes me to the airport in Chennai. I’ll be in Singapore by the evening. (more…)
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