Travel, revisited

October 28, 2006

I feel a real sadness welling up inside of me as we leave Sri Ramanasramam. It was quite short, just a few days, but the spirit of the place and of the people was remarkable. And as is often the case when you are travelling (as opposed to tourism, where one often carries the bubble of home around them), we met a number of fascinating people, local Indians and visitors from abroad, who made the space and time here incredibly rich and amazingly warm. You never know if these instant connections will grow, should grow, or if they will simply fade into nice memories; still I hope to have the opportunity some day to visit Rama and Adelaida in their Costa Rican retreat, of host them, should they pass through New York and fancy a short side-trip to the north…

Lodging at the Ashram is by donation. We spent nothing for food or water or housing while we stayed there, and as suggested gave “whatever we found appropriate” as we departed, to help the community maintain its buildings, feed the poor of the area, and continue it educational work. Bus service is available 9 times a day from Tiruvannamalai to Pondicherry, but these are no the regular bus lines: filled to bursting with local town-hoppers or long-distance travellers, with no air conditioning, no place to keep our large travel packs, and plenty of stops to extend the pleasure of the trip to the eastern coast. The train would have been a good option, had they not cancelled the service six years ago. The Ashram office called a driver whom they trust, and Manny and I jumped into an old Ambassador car, an Indian make, and had a good trip, chatting about what we had seen and felt, where we had come, and where we were heading.

But this sadness… quite deeply felt. As Rama said before we left him this morning: “It is hard going out that gate…”

Meanwhile, we did go out the gate, drove through rain – torrential at times – out of and into dusty, congested towns, into and out of broad green swaths of rice fields and plains, past quite a number of technical colleges and schools, past lines of girls and boys in uniforms off to the primary or secondary schools, past bicycles loaded down with cut grasses or baskets or entire families, past trucks trundling heavily east toward Pondy or lightly west to fill again with country goods, past roadside shanties and grass-woven houses, past cattle and goats and staring faces and watching faces, out of a very recent past into a very proximate future.

We had hoped to stay at the Park Guest House, associated with the Sri Aurobindo Ashram here in Pondy, and touted to be one of the finer places in town. Manny read that all of it’s rooms face the water, and indeed it is situated at the southern end of the city, perched on the rocky shoreline that overlooks the Indian Ocean. We stepped out into rain to find the guest house full, but were directed further up the street to the Sea Side Guest House, also associated with the Ashram, and also on the water. Happy to find they had room, we took a second-floor space with a window out on the water – cost Rp 700 a night, or a little over $15… a vast improvement in all senses over our experience in Bangalore. The rain had slowed, so we asked at the desk for directions to food and an umbrella, in either order, then set out walking inland, past lovely grey-and-white stucco buildings, through shockingly quiet streets, into the busier heart of the city.

We crossed a covered channel which parallels the sea, and which probably carries sewage and run-off from the town to the water. It acts as divider between what is clearly home to the elite (and the location of all of the Aurobindo Ashram buildings, I might add), and the more crowded current of life that is the town itself. Still, there is an order and a smaller scale to this place which makes it easier to move around for (us) westerners. We found an umbrella and, drier now, were pointed at a good vegetarian restaurant around nearby. Excellent food, inexpensive, a good place to decompress from departure and movement. The stresses were evident in both of us, perhaps a first mild collision of energies in this land of many energies. But sorted out as we each find ways to unwind and open to yet another new environment.

Tomorrow we travel to Auroville, and a community waiting for us there. Or should I say, numerous communities awaiting our arrival and discovery. The scale seems rather larger than life, and rather larger than one person to take in properly. But we have several days to discover the jewels of the place, and to hopefully encounter good hearts and interesting minds equal to our stay at Sri Ramanasramam.

I bet we don’t eat on the floor…