Internet Cafe:
Sitting in the internet cafe, I’m suddenly asked, “do you speak English?” I turn to see, an old man with an orange kind of scarf around his head and dressed in an orange robe (which I have been told means he is either Hare Krishna or a Buddhist Monk, I’m still not sure). “Yes”, I tell him and look up to see he is on facebook and needs me to translate a line of a message, something about “deep tissue massage... and being very energeetik...” I couldn’t help laughing, how did the world ever exist without facebook?
An Indian Pedicure:
Friday afternoon, I had a real “Caylee moment” ie spur of the moment decision without totally thinking it through. Behind my hotel there is a little alleyway that is a shortcut to the main road, each day I see a hand written sign for a beautician listing all her services including pedicures. Having some time on my hands which I don’t usually have, knowing that it probably doesn’t cost more than $3, and the fact that my month old nail polish is beginning to peel I think why not...
The beautician, a middle aged Indian women dressed in a Sari and a dozen bracelets which she keeps on during the pedicure, takes me into her bedroom, kicking out her husband as we enter. The room is simple but full of personal items- stuffed toys (I wonder whether they belonged to her, her children or both), wooden reindeer heads on the wall, a picture with the caption “achievements come to those who achieve” and another of dogs with something about individuality and team work.
She takes out her pedicure set from under what looks like a printers tray with helicopter blades behind, (I’m told it’s an air-conditioner). The set includes a rough stone, a tub of moisturiser, a set of clippers and small tray of half-fill nail polishes. I suddenly begin to think of the hygiene standards I have witnessed so far in India and think of all that may be lurking on the utensils she is carefully organising on the floor and think maybe this was not such a good idea. I start saying to her something about just a massage, but she looks so disappointed, so I decide to go with it... Maybe it’s just my Western mindset, who is to say that small and simple isn’t clean. She finishes and my feet look a lot better. Although as I walk outside and put on my muddy slipslops (flip-flops for Americans) I wonder again, what was I thinking,a pedicure in India?
Conversation with a Yogi
On Saturday afternoon I was sitting reading on the veranda (South African for patio/terrace) at my hotel, overlooking the Ganges River, when an Indian man comes to sit next to me and we begin talking. There is a group gathered further down the river and smoke is drifting upwind towards us. He asks me if I know what they are doing? “A puja?” I guess, “ yes but what Puja? ”, he asks me. (A Puja, which means respect, is religious ceremony they do almost daily along the river.) He then explains how someone has died and they are cremating the body before throwing the ashes in the river. He explains to me how all Hindus do this and the Ganges, being one of their holiest rivers, is a particularly auspicious place to have your ashes thrown, many travelling from nearbye towns to do so. He explains how everyone comes to participate to see the body of to the next life and how it is important that everyone is present to show that life is not eternal and people simply pass into the next life. We begin talking about reincarnation and it turns out that in some ways Hindu beliefs are not that different to Jews’ on the subject. Hindus believe we keep being reincarnated until we achieve what we need to achieve (kind of like Jews believe in the idea of a “Tikkun”, fixing the wrongs of their past life in this one.) We then start talking about our past and present lives. He tells me he studied law at University (which explains his excellent English) and worked for a while as a government official. One day he was on an official trip to Rishikesh when he realised this was not the life he wanted so he wrote a letter of resignation and settled in Rishikesh. He has been living here for the past 10 years, teaching yoga and meditation. His life here is much more relaxed and very simple, during tourist season he teaches two classes a day and in the winter he learns more and sometimes goes overseas teaching seminars (he had just got back from Delhi where he had been organising a visa for a trip to Europe. ) His story reminds me of the fable about the rich businessman that comes to a small village and meets a poor fisherman and begins formulating elaborate plans for the fisherman to increase his yield, build a business, educate his children, move to the city etc. Each time the fisherman asks “and then what?” The businessman tells him about the happiness it will bring him. Eventually the fisherman asks “and then what?” The businessman replies so that you can buy a small cottage on the river retire and spend time with your grandchildren. The fisherman replies but I do that now already...) I tell him the story and he laughs and agrees.
We then begin speaking about happiness; I ask him if he thinks the people here are happy. He talks about how material possessions don’t bring happiness, how real happiness is something that is permanent, that lasts longer than the moment, for example our conversation. He tells me soon we will forget each other, that is not permanent but happiness remains (thanks a lot!) We then get onto love, he tells me his wife of 10 years died last year, but that she is not really gone simply passing onto the next life, so he should not feel sad. Was a bit surreal having this deep conversation with an Indian yogi, felt a little like I was talking to Kahlil Gibran’s prophet, “and the people said speak to us of...” death, life, joy, love?
Side note:The Yogi has also worked for an Israeli organisation called בית חם that works with Israeli drug addicts in Goa and he tells me that he very much appreciates the Jewish religion
No comments:
Post a Comment