Wednesday 27 February
I refine/change my
plans yet again and this morning cancel a train trip and a flight and book a
new flight for Sunday from Trivandrum to Mumbai. Its all so easy online!
Matthew runs me down to the ferry quay on his scooter, where I meet up with
Katriona and board the Kollum boat. This ferry is aimed at tourists, which is
why it costs twenty times as much as Monday's local ferry. In return, there's a
fancy souvenir ticket and soft but grubby seats. There's also a clean loo and a
covered upper deck (stooping required) for a firm but breezier ride. The ferry
is only about a quarter full, so I dodge around from level to level and side to
side according to the view.
 |
| Coracle Fishers |
Which is a re-run of
yesterday - palm-fringed river banks or raised canals plus a lock and a lake or
two, brightly-painted cottages, people ambling along under umbrellas, fishing
and domestic chores, a floating shop, "Chinese" nets (out of action),
and boys paddling fishing from coracles. We stop for a quick but tasty veggie lunch
served on a paper banana leaf, then on again to Amritapuri where K and I
disembark along with half the passengers. We are punted across the river in a
canoe, and are soon checking in at the Amritapuri Ashram's International
Arrivals desk. Ashram rules: no meat, no loud voices, no photography, no sex,
alcohol or smoking, no bright or immodest clothes, practise brahmachrya ("hugging,
kissing and holding hands is inappropriate" - wot, no hugging? See below.)
There are about 3000 guests staying, about half and half Indian and Western, all
ages including children, more female than male. Many wear all or part white, so
I don my nightwear trousers (thin white cotton, knee-length, baggy) and think I
look the part. Everybody smiles at me. Indeed, everyone smiles - all the time -
and so do I.
 |
| Ashram from the river |
Now I am not an
ashrammy sort of person, so have little idea of what to expect, but I think
this is not the norm. For a start, the main ashram building is a huge pink
tower block. Her Holiness Mata Amritanandamayi is not only India's most famous
guru, she is regarded by some as a living saint / goddess. She is a
"global phenomenon", raising vast sums for good causes worldwide. She
coolly wrote out a cheque for US$22 million, for example, for relief following
the tsunami, and her foundation builds homes, schools and free hospitals for
the Indian poor. She even runs a free food programme for homeless people in New York. She's Mother Teresa big time. Like MT, Amma leads a simple
personal life; unlike MT, Amma's organisation really benefits huge numbers of people in tangible ways. I join Katriona for the introductory video and orientation tour,
and later visit the shops, internet cafe and basic restaurants - even more
basic food is provided free.
Amma, as she's
called, has a unique trademark - she showers divine love by hugging people
(despite prohibition, above). Since the 1980s she's hugged an estimated 30
million people, and today she hugs me too!!! After queuing for the best part of
two hours, my turn for Amma's "Darshan" finally comes. I follow the
rules (on printed sheet): wipe my face first, remove my spectacles, and don't
put my arms round her body. One of her acolytes gently eases me into her arms,
she says something incomprehensible ("majorga, majorga, majorga") in
my ear, then gives me a banana and a beatific smile, and it's all over in about
15 seconds. Some get much longer. Other people apparently report being overcome
by an intense feeling of love. I don't, though I do come away smiling. It was
worth the wait, just.
It's 11.30 pm. Amma
is still hugging her last few devotees of the day (she's been at it since 11
am). Everyone in the hall stands as the band winds up with its final Bhajan.
But my eye is caught by a huge brown cockroach advancing across the floor
towards me in stages. Is everyone else just very short sighted, or is there
also a prohibition on roachicide? I can ignore it no longer, so I step out as
if casually and tread hard on the creature causing it to explode with a loud
pop. This, too, makes me smile.
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