Tag: hinduism

Beers, Beaches and Besties. Yep I’m back in Paradise

Beers, Beaches and Besties. Yep I’m back in Paradise

theunlikelypilgrim

I’m home! Ok not home home, but close enough.

When I landed and headed down Sunset Road with my favourite driver and my man on my arm, my heart skipped a beat. I love Bali, I love the people, I love the food, I love the weather and I love the culture. Saddled up back on my scooter, shorts and singlets on (no more dress codes to adhere to), sun shining and an ice cold been in my hand – heaven!


Note to self – sell loads of books and settle in Bali!
Note to reader – buy loads of my books so I can settle in Bali!

I’ve just missed Nyepi – the Balinese Hindu New Year where the island shuts up shop for 24 hours and everyone stays inside, meditates, and spends time with family and God, all ready for the year ahead. Even the airport shuts down. It’s a full lock down to be at peace. Sorry to have missed it but I’m in time for Galungan and its wedding season! The Balinese calendar dictates certain times and days that are suitable for marriage and New Year that are perfect.


I’ve never been to a Balinese wedding so when I notice one being set up on my morning ride for a delicious organic brekky down at Canggu, I brush up on my Indo and sweet talk the uncle to let me come in. Not a hard task because the Balinese are so welcoming and open. He says absolutely, throw your sarong on and in you go. What a magnificent set up! I’m always so impressed with the beautiful creations that the Balinese achieve with such simple resources. Flowers, bamboo and cocoa leaves adorn the pathways into the house.

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The Gamelan plays and the traditional dancers entertain us for over an hour. The arrival of the bride and groom sparks wide smiles and glowing looks from the crowd. As the series of rituals unfold, the guests for the most part go about their own business. Offerings overflow at various altars, the Pemangku (Bali Hindu Priest) offers a live duck to the temple, another collection of women chant softly yet purposefully off to the sides. The traditional wedding attire is simply magnificent. Bright red with gold from top to toe, traditional make up and the happy couple look calm, hot, and happy. Again, with the open-mindedness they happily pose for photos with the two foreign strangers who have turned up and after a bite to eat and feeling bit sun stroked, we say our goodbyes and leave.

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A sucker for ceremony I drag my adopted family the Dillons off to the temple for Galungan and explain the Odalan, offerings and holy water. We watch the people focused in prayer and admire the offerings that come and go through the temple on this the second most important ceremony of the year (second to Nyepi).

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I remember that I have water from the Ganges in my backpack and ask the Pemangku if he would like it. By his animated and excited response hugging me and clutching my hands I think the answer is yes. I knew I was right not to leave India without some, given so many Hindus were bottling it up for ceremony. This year I was happy to be celebrating Galungan in Bali and whilst it was much more subdued than the three-day extravaganza of last year in the village, I loved that one year on I could teach my friends a thing or two about what was going on. And I not only tied my own sarong, but I dressed the whole family too. I’m obviously learning a thing or two on this journey, and it’s nice to know it’s sticking.

With sadness, I leave my second home but with Jerusalem as the next stop, I’m about to tick off the number one on my bucket list!

 

Yours in Faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim

 

Swimming against the tide – Rishikesh and Haridwar

Swimming against the tide – Rishikesh and Haridwar

theunlikelypilgrim

Back on the banks of the Ma Ganga and all I can say is this – I think I swam at the wrong end!

I’m with my friend Anu who I worked with in hotels many years ago in the UK and I am so pleased to be in her company and exploring this holy place. Rishikesh and Haridwar offer some of the most important temples in Hinduism. I attend the Mansa Dewi Temple and the Chandi Devi Temple. Mansa Dewi is the Goddess of fertility and prosperity. She is also known for ‘what you will’ what you wish for she will grant you. Pilgrims in the thousands descend upon these towns to bathe in the river and attend these sites.

As always in Hinduism, high on the hill we venture to opposite ends of the town to the most important temples here.  It’s ridiculously hot and as we meander past the series of shrines, offering flowers, food, incense and prayer, the crowd engulfs us and the intermittent holla of Jai Krishna bellows through the corridors. It’s the same across the valley and Anu tells me that if I will it so, it will be. At this point I will for aircon. Nope. Oh well how about safety, my ‘go to’ prayer for me; and health, my ‘go to’ prayer for others. I feel like I’m bobbing for apples. Head down at the feet of the Shiva stone. Head bowed for blessing from the Brahmin priest, head down for the tikka to be applied. This bowing of respect is in all religions. Bowing down in the pews of Catholic churches; bowing down in prostration in the mosques.


At night, the Arti ceremony differs from town to town and I particularly enjoy the one in Haridwar. Not as grand and showy as Varanasi and a better vibe than in Rishikesh. What I particularly love is the oath that it begins with. The promise the crowd of thousands make to the Ganga; a Goddess in their eyes to keep her clean, to respect her, to not throw their rubbish on her banks or in her living water. That explains the clarity of the water this end. Perhaps Varanasi needs the same oath. I enjoy the colours of Hinduism, the giant Krishna on the banks – 20 feet tall and bright blue, the Sadhus scattered around with vibrant orange across their faces and in their clothes. The flowers in every colour offered to the Gods and the backdrop of crisp white of a Brahmin priest and the milk often poured over the Shiva stone.


If I recall nothing in future of what I’ve learnt, or who I met– the colours of India are permanently etched in my mind.

Yours in Faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim

 

Guru? What’s a Guru?

Guru? What’s a Guru?

theunlikelypilgrim

Living Interfaith Community – now that catches my attention.

I stumbled across this place in my quest for all things faith in India and I can hardly begin to describe what I found here. Harmony, tolerance, unity and personally inner peace and calm.


Gobind Sadan was started by Baba Virsa Singh over 30 years ago, an incredible man of God who dreamt of building a place where all men and women of all faiths can come, worship and live together in harmony. His message is simple: work hard, look after others and love God. Your way! Here they hold the Havan (sacred fire) in high regard. Around the clock three Havans are tended to and prayed upon by the occupants and passing pilgrims who volunteer.

 I dutifully sat by this fire and chanted in Sanskrit in the morning, recited the Jaap Sahib in the afternoon and sat in solitude in the evening whilst wishing well on the world and all the people in it. Trying not to forget to pour the ghee and cleanse the new wood so that no ants are harmed (after all it’s a vegetarian fire).


For three days I immersed myself in the culture of Gobin Sadan. This involved quite a tight schedule that seemed to keep me busy but not bored and not tired. Up at dawn for the first round of prayers (ok so I slept through that the first day), followed by prayers and prasad at the Havan at  8:00am. Then it was over to the Gurdwara to hear the recitation of the Guru Granth Sahib and chanting by the main Havan as the Guru – Babaji made offerings to God. The words were repeated over and over in unison (tan tan a baba siri chand sahib) with the other followers. It was such a beautiful sound and there was a feeling of being in a trance. I could have sat for hours, watching the flames flicker and dance with each other along with the swaying of the Chaur Sahib (second nature after such a short time).


Quick brekky and 10:00am snuck up on me. Time to recite the Jaap Sahib – a Sikh morning prayer; complicated at first with Hindi Sanskrit and Arabic. This is sung, the leader first, then us in chorus after him. Then it was rest time and reflection. Back to the Havan for midday prayers, lunch, rest unless you’re on fire duty – I was. Then a round table reading of a passage of the Guru Granth Sahib and reflection of what those words meant to us. Off to Jesus’ place to pray at 6:00pm and the cycle continues into the night and actually starts again at 2:00am.


The Guru – of which I would say there was two, Mary an incredible woman of the lord. Check out her story below; and Babaji, who I was lucky enough to have an audience with…twice. Of course, the first time I was feeling quite overwhelmed and wasted my opportunity to chat with such a wise and awesome man of God. Instead of going deep we discussed trivial history of the farm of which I already knew and of course the pilgrimage after being prompted as to my ‘purpose’ in life. Is it my purpose? But the second time, feeling more at ease, I just waltzed up and asked if we could have a chat and thankfully and graciously he agreed.


So, what do you ask when you have the Guru’s attention? Well my heart is repairing from my previous relationship. Healing advice? I’m dating a Muslim. Interfaith advice? And I’m dedicating my life to spreading tolerance. Protection and wisdom? I go for the hat-trick. I asked if the soul tie ever really evaporates following the loss of a great love or if a part of your heart dies with that end? I’m serious. He ponders. I can hardly catch my breath hoping he really does have the answer, suddenly immersed with more heartache than I thought I had left. He speaks, “The heart overflowing with love is a gift from God. You are blessed to have had this person to mould and guide you for the period you had. I will ask God for healing.” (Don’t weep, don’t weep).


The Guru continues, “In a partnership of two faiths you have the opportunity to learn and grow in tolerance and the children will know the love of God from more than one source. Should they experience negativity from their peers, society and others, they will know through the love of God and strength of their parents that they operate on a higher field than those who judge others for their faith.” Whoa!


And finally he hits me with this,“God is always with you, I will pray for your protection but in the arms of God who is Allah, who is Shiva and who speaks to us in many forms. He will always protect you, his daughter, so be at peace.”

WOW! How can that be so heavy yet so enlightening all at once? I feel free, I feel no fear and I feel FAITH. I offer my life into the hands of God. I will succeed, I will be safe and my longing for a family WILL happen.


I think I found a Guru…. make that two! 

https://youtu.be/P7XaacSD1bg  
Yours in Faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim

 

Varanasi – Spiritual Enlightenment or Soul Destroying?

Varanasi – Spiritual Enlightenment or Soul Destroying?

theunlikelypilgrim

I know, heavy title, right. Hear me out.

India always presents such stark contrasts, but Varanasi is a paradox to me. It is a holy place. It is a sacred city on the banks of the holiest of holy Mama Ganga, goddess of the Hindus. It is a giver of life and sanctuary for the soul in more ways than one.

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Wandering the endless narrow streets (much like Venice without the canals) and the addition of countless cows and consequent cow shit (holy land mines, as per my host). I came across temple after temple after temple. On every corner there was a shrine to Shiva, the creator of this town. Or the telling orange clothes of an approaching sadhu. They are holy men who have dedicated their lives to God. Not to be confused with a priest; only a Brahmin can be a priest (their caste system is a whole other post).  But a holy man, who eats, sleeps and breathes prayer whilst sitting for hours chanting Sanskrit scriptures. He relies on the kindness of others for food. He is happy to offer advice and counsel if asked, but more so a man of solitary devotion to God. 


Then there is the river itself, a holy living Goddess flowing for 2500 kilometres providing life and spiritual hope to all those who adorn her banks. Or better yet to bathe in this mighty river is said to cleanse the soul. Of course, I indulged in this opportunity to cleanse some sins away. I’m the Unlikely Pilgrim after all. Holy yes, pure … not the word that comes to mind when submerged in this water, especially with a buffalo within spitting distance. 


Nonetheless I cleansed, I bathed, and I even headed to the temple to be blessed.
Like my previous entry (Cremations and Corpses) describes. There is commitment to the ceremony of this place. The dedication to rituals in ensuring the soul is clean is paramount. Pilgrims from all over India, and in fact the world, come in the millions to soak up the energy of Varanasi. In theory it is beautiful and spiritually charged. 


However both times I’ve been here I’ve felt an underlying sadness; not a surface bad feeling, but a deep sorrow in my heart.
A sorrow for the conditions here: the streets are filthy with animal mess, rubbish and general grime. Children as young as three years old beg on the streets well into the night.

 Seedy and uneasy feelings down by the river after dark surrounds me and the lower castes are avoided and disregarded. An example, the Aghori the men who work down at the cremation sites to ensure the masses get their golden ticket to heaven work tirelessly, yet I’m advised not to talk to them or risk being tainted by someone else’s woes. Superstition or discrimination? I’m undecided.


With all the colour and spirituality, Varanasi is certainly an incredible place to visit. I can’t help but invoke feelings of helplessness when I think of Varanasi though. A place so full of hope and maybe that’s why the poverty is more obvious to me here than in other parts of India. Albeit the divide is everywhere in India. Maybe it’s the simplicity of life here, because all the people need is their God. 


Find out for yourself.

http://www.visitvaranasi.com

Yours in faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim

 

Cremations and Corpses.

Cremations and Corpses.

theunlikelypilgrim

Got your attention! Well the cremation Ghats in Varanasi certainly had mine. Having visited this chaotic city before, I opted for a guide this time round. I had limited time and didn’t want to miss anything. Thank the Lord for Rohit, such an endearing, kind and super knowledgeable guy.

(Checkout my FaithChat with Rohit here  https://youtu.be/XfOb42mYDWA )

We headed to Manikarnika Ghat, the main cremation Ghat. There were to be no photos, I was advised (fair enough). Here the pyres burn 24 hours a day with a constant stream of bodies (people) arriving to have their life’s dream realised. For Hindus, being cremated on the banks of the Ganges River in Varanasi is said to break the cycle of reincarnation. You are no longer a product of your karma and no longer a victim of deeds of past lives, but on a one-way ticket to heaven.

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It is men only in this place. Women are deemed too emotional, too overcome with grief to be still and quiet as to not disturb the souls of the dead. Therefore, the men carry the corpse through the streets down to the Ghat and immerse the body in the river. A series of rituals unfold. The eldest man is shaved: head, face and neck. Various oils, herbs and specific fabrics are sourced and all have their place.

When the body is fully cleansed and prepared, it is placed upon 200 to 300 kilos of wood and set alight with a special flame. There is no fixed price for, it fluctuates by the minute 200-500 1000 rupee. Whatever the price, dependant on the day the family pays willingly.

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I watched five corpses arrive and be prepared. I witnessed the men as the family members chatted amongst themselves and oversaw proceedings in such an official and disconnected way. I bet within their hearts the grief was screaming.

But it is for the good of the soul of their loved one. An outward calm sits upon their faces. I’m not sure I could contain my grief with such control and dignity. No girls allowed; a smart move.

The sobering realisation is that in fact I’m surrounded by death, and that that stick is a leg burning before me evaporated my feelings of admiration for the families. This prompted a quick departure to the famous Blue Lassi Cafe to collect my thoughts and process what I had just seen. In my reflection, I do admire the ritual, the steadfastness of the men and the commitment of the Hindu people to journey here to die and reach salvation. I wonder if other religions were given just one act to attain salvation would our commitment be as strong and as widespread?

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I visited the Ghats just once as I felt within myself a need to respect the process that was occurring and not overstep my privilege to be part of it. The families happily allow us tourists to stop by and witness their culture and it’s up to us to do this respectfully by not making it a spectator sport.
Yours in faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim

Harassed and Man Handled at Holi.

Harassed and Man Handled at Holi.

theunlikelypilgrim

I have two tales to tell of Holi celebrations in India. I opted for Vrindivan, the home of Holi and the birthplace of Krishna to play Holi. Here thousands of people descend to celebrate the colours and chaos of Holi; the festival of love or the festival of colour. A commemoration of Krishna and Radha’s love (his girlfriend, not his wife). A two-day festival; but in this area celebrations start well before the actual Holi day and extend a couple of days afterwards.

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Day 1 – Mathura

I wanted the whole experience so I checked into the ashram and headed down town. Day one was quite tame; visiting the local temples I experienced the fanfare of the festival with people approaching to smear coloured chalk on my face and give me a hug. Others playfully threw colour from tuk-tuks and rooftops while hollering – Hare Hare or Happy Holi.  Fun, playful, festive.

I got swept up in the dancing at the temple as the bells and drums played, chanting echoed the walls and even the constant request for selfies with the locals was palpable at this stage. I explored the temple in Mathura and attended the Holika ritual, the ceremonious burning of an effigy. Holika was a demoness who tried to kill a young Prahlad and in an elaborate attempt to burn him, she herself went up in flames. A great start to my Holi experience and feeling a little coloured out but still excited, I was ready for the big Holi day.

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Day 2 – Vrindivan

Day two was a completely different experience. All ‘saried up’ and feeling very Indian, my new friend Alessandro and I headed to the Banke Bihari temple in town that is said to have the best celebrations in town. Not that I would know as we never made it … and that’s where the dark side of the story starts.

Like the day before we were assaulted with colour from every angle and today the coloured water was also out in force. What started out quite fun rapidly deteriorated into a nightmare the closer we got to the temple. The streets were jam packed and as very few foreigners were around I felt like we had massive targets on our back. The boys were either stoned on Bhang or drunk and seemed incredibly rowdy compared to the day before. And if the constant battery of coloured chalk in your every crevice, ears, eyes, mouth, wasn’t enough, the wandering hands in the crowd started. Not fucking cool!

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As we approached the temple we got caught in what can only be described as a stampede of people. The type of situation that ends in headlines ‘10 Killed in Crush During Holi Celebrations.’ Thank God for Alessandro. His quick thinking swept us onto a little ledge where others were seeking refuge and he protected me like a bull and kept me safe.

 

Once the crowd dispersed we both agreed: fuck the temple, let’s get out of here. But it was not as easy as it sounds. Wandering the labyrinth of laneways, we were battered again and I copped a massive handful of chalk directly in my eye, not to mention opportunistic grabby hands in the crowd, resulting in more than one Indian boy copping an earful from me. Cheeky little shits.

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Exhausted, feeling completely harassed we eventually found our way and sought refuge in a more subdued street. We massively overpaid for a tuk-tuk to escape, which at this point did not bother me. I was tired, violated and soaked to the skin. We were still attacked intermittently on the ride home from the street whilst in motion, including an entire bucket of water as we slowed for a cow just to ensure the small dry bits were now drenched.

 

As a final gift some little bastard threw cow shit at us. The driver went nuts but it didn’t stop the shit from being on my sari now, did it. Safely back at the sanctuary of the ashram a few teens were out the front and attempted to colour me and they copped all the wrath from the morning and backed off very slowly. I felt like as soldier retuning from battle being safe in the barracks as we debriefed with the staff who said the centre of town wasn’t the smartest idea. Well, no shit (pardon the pun). Now you tell us. I was left feeling quite violated and wondering why people would come here and hoped that the next day would be less violent … it was. Thank God!

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Day 3 – Barsana

I welcomed day three with stained pink and blue skin and hair. We headed to Stick Holi (Haurunga); a tradition celebrated in a town 50 kilometres from Mathura where it is said Krishna made fun of Radha and her friends, so they beat him up. So, to commemorate that, men parade through the Dauji temple and get covered in red water and the women rip the men’s clothes off and beat them withtheir clothes. We managed to score a spot on the roof with the soldiers and had a bird’s eye view of the whole event which was incredible.

The fanfare was again chaotic and colourful, however this time I was safe out of harm’s way. Thousands of people participate and it felt vibrant and light. The chalk was still freely thrown but with care and playfulness, not malice, and my personal space today remained intact. I really enjoyed the celebrations at Barsana and highly recommend making the trip if you’re here for Holi, I even got interviewed for Indian television. Bonus!

In the evenings, everything calms down and I had the opportunity to explore the many temples of the area and chat to some Hare Krishna’s who explained to me the importance of Holi. In summary, I think Holi is well worth the visit and the rituals at the temples, Barsana and Mathura, on the peripheral days are enjoyable. My tip would be to stick to the back streets if you’re in Vrindivan and you will enjoy it a lot more.

Girls, don’t go alone. I rarely say that as I traipse around the world on my own, but I am so thankful for having Alessandro by my side because it was quite a difficult situation to be in alone and he deterred a lot of the carry on, and still it was rowdy and unacceptable.

So was it Happy Holi – I think yes but I’ll be rethinking my plans for Deepvali to ensure my safety and comfort during these mass celebrations.

 

Yours in Faith,

The Unlikely Pilgrim