India continues to amaze me. I have attended three separate events that I feel have been memorable and eye opening. Each has allowed to put my own life and beliefs in perspective.
The first event I attended was part of a music festival being held at the ‘monkey temple’. The festival is six days long and hindu’s from all over the country make the trip to attend. I could tell the music festival was important right from the rickshaw ride there. My friend Jenneke and I hailed a rickshaw and somehow managed to communicate that we were interested in going to the monkey festival. The chaotic ride was only twenty rupees (note: that I was dressed in ‘westernish garb’-later I discovered that when dressed in Indian garb and using a bit of hindi rickshaw rides of twice the distance are only 5 rupees because the person assumes you are a hippy that knows better). Twenty rupees was cheap considering the ride provided the equivalent excitement to a day at the amusement park. In most of the other countries I have traveled in there is only one lane for traffic of each direction. However in India it seems to be a free for all. Tuk Tuk’s, rickshaws, cows, people, motor bikes, all seem to zoom forward, backwards, to side streets. It's like the Russian roulette version of bumper cars. Given festival’s popularity this game/rollar costar ride/means of transportation had become all the more intense. Finally we made it and were immediately swept into a crowd of sweaty body’s pushing and shoving to enter the temple (there were no lines of course). Once entering through the women’s entrance we immediately saw the stage with some sort of music being preformed. Here, we could here the shrewd old women’s strange ‘singing’ and the rhythmic vibrations of the tabula. The skinny small ancient women was half clothed crouched on stage with a microphone in hand. She had HUGE glasses that magnified her very expressive eyes. I couldn’t quite tell whether her expression was one of joy or sadness however at any moment it looked like she was about to burst into tears. Behind her was a pot bellied old man who seemed to be in his own little world. I couldn’t really tell why he was on stage. All he seemed to do was rock his head back and fourth while his eyebrows bounced up and down above his closed eyes.
Around the main stage were many pictures of the ‘monkey god’. The monkey god-Hanuman http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanuman was portrayed in pictures all over the temple. Any picture of the god that was passed was touched (and there were literally pictures covering almost every square inch of the temple). Many people were seated and seemed to be consumed in a trance like state. I was amazed. It is hard for me to understand this amount of devotion. However I suppose it gives them purpose. I found myself wanting to have something to believe in—or give myself purpose. I often feel so torn during many situations from small moral dilemmas such as should I pay the extra 2 dollars for organic produce to what should I do with my life. Perhaps if I believed that I would be reborn in a higher cast I’d have better ammunition to tackle my dilemmas. Perhaps I wouldn’t even considering studying something for fun unless it could help my family or others who are less fortunate. However, I don’t like simple answers. For me, the mental debate during moral dilemmas is half the fun. I love learning about new ways to look at things. There are so many pairs of cultural glasses to see the world through. I am definitely to curious to confine my self to the rose coloured glasses of ‘hinduism’ or Christianity. However without answers there will always be a degree of uncertainty. And usually it is more difficult to be ‘happy’ when uncertain. So am I missing out on some crucial ‘happiness’ because I constantly avoid right/wrong, black/white, good/bad? I imagine it would be nice to have a life long goal to go to mecca, or to follow a guru toward enlightenment because it gives you something to do, look forward to, and work towards. I love the feeling of anticipation and enjoyment when you are finally able to reach your goal, have something to look forward to and watch for. For instance I used to look forward to track meets and train so I could perform at those meets. The whole cycle was tiring yet fulfilling. Now I find my self looking at different countries and imagining traveling to them, or grad schools and imagine attending them. However because I lack a central guiding path I never really become overly enthused about anything (I mean I’m excited just not in the zealous religious sense).
As I left the festivals the only conclusion I could draw was that devotion has an aspect of beauty within all of its strangeness. They others leaving did seem truly happy of either received a blessing from a guru or preformed a meaningful prayer. They were also part of this larger community and all were part of something together and through their mass they were something bigger, something more ‘real’ than just a little person who is just another body that will eat, breath, and die. Some people are happy with this, but I think others want something bigger (I mean I definitely do-I would love to change the world in some way for both humanitarian and selfish reasons). I guess everyone will have their own little way of determining this and how they want to do this.
As I existed the festival the only thing I felt bad about was that the temple was disturbing the hundreds of monkeys in the temple’s trees. The poor monkeys had to suffer through six days with out sleep as the festival lasts from 8pm until 5am. And hidu’s are supposed to be against harming animals!
Ok now I’m tired. I only managed to chronicle one experience. The other two include working with the kids from fair mail and visiting their homes (a wonderful eye opener to have and have not) and attending an Indian party for a ‘wedding anniversary’ (complete with married couple feeding each other cake)… so to be continued.
The first event I attended was part of a music festival being held at the ‘monkey temple’. The festival is six days long and hindu’s from all over the country make the trip to attend. I could tell the music festival was important right from the rickshaw ride there. My friend Jenneke and I hailed a rickshaw and somehow managed to communicate that we were interested in going to the monkey festival. The chaotic ride was only twenty rupees (note: that I was dressed in ‘westernish garb’-later I discovered that when dressed in Indian garb and using a bit of hindi rickshaw rides of twice the distance are only 5 rupees because the person assumes you are a hippy that knows better). Twenty rupees was cheap considering the ride provided the equivalent excitement to a day at the amusement park. In most of the other countries I have traveled in there is only one lane for traffic of each direction. However in India it seems to be a free for all. Tuk Tuk’s, rickshaws, cows, people, motor bikes, all seem to zoom forward, backwards, to side streets. It's like the Russian roulette version of bumper cars. Given festival’s popularity this game/rollar costar ride/means of transportation had become all the more intense. Finally we made it and were immediately swept into a crowd of sweaty body’s pushing and shoving to enter the temple (there were no lines of course). Once entering through the women’s entrance we immediately saw the stage with some sort of music being preformed. Here, we could here the shrewd old women’s strange ‘singing’ and the rhythmic vibrations of the tabula. The skinny small ancient women was half clothed crouched on stage with a microphone in hand. She had HUGE glasses that magnified her very expressive eyes. I couldn’t quite tell whether her expression was one of joy or sadness however at any moment it looked like she was about to burst into tears. Behind her was a pot bellied old man who seemed to be in his own little world. I couldn’t really tell why he was on stage. All he seemed to do was rock his head back and fourth while his eyebrows bounced up and down above his closed eyes.
Around the main stage were many pictures of the ‘monkey god’. The monkey god-Hanuman http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanuman was portrayed in pictures all over the temple. Any picture of the god that was passed was touched (and there were literally pictures covering almost every square inch of the temple). Many people were seated and seemed to be consumed in a trance like state. I was amazed. It is hard for me to understand this amount of devotion. However I suppose it gives them purpose. I found myself wanting to have something to believe in—or give myself purpose. I often feel so torn during many situations from small moral dilemmas such as should I pay the extra 2 dollars for organic produce to what should I do with my life. Perhaps if I believed that I would be reborn in a higher cast I’d have better ammunition to tackle my dilemmas. Perhaps I wouldn’t even considering studying something for fun unless it could help my family or others who are less fortunate. However, I don’t like simple answers. For me, the mental debate during moral dilemmas is half the fun. I love learning about new ways to look at things. There are so many pairs of cultural glasses to see the world through. I am definitely to curious to confine my self to the rose coloured glasses of ‘hinduism’ or Christianity. However without answers there will always be a degree of uncertainty. And usually it is more difficult to be ‘happy’ when uncertain. So am I missing out on some crucial ‘happiness’ because I constantly avoid right/wrong, black/white, good/bad? I imagine it would be nice to have a life long goal to go to mecca, or to follow a guru toward enlightenment because it gives you something to do, look forward to, and work towards. I love the feeling of anticipation and enjoyment when you are finally able to reach your goal, have something to look forward to and watch for. For instance I used to look forward to track meets and train so I could perform at those meets. The whole cycle was tiring yet fulfilling. Now I find my self looking at different countries and imagining traveling to them, or grad schools and imagine attending them. However because I lack a central guiding path I never really become overly enthused about anything (I mean I’m excited just not in the zealous religious sense).
As I left the festivals the only conclusion I could draw was that devotion has an aspect of beauty within all of its strangeness. They others leaving did seem truly happy of either received a blessing from a guru or preformed a meaningful prayer. They were also part of this larger community and all were part of something together and through their mass they were something bigger, something more ‘real’ than just a little person who is just another body that will eat, breath, and die. Some people are happy with this, but I think others want something bigger (I mean I definitely do-I would love to change the world in some way for both humanitarian and selfish reasons). I guess everyone will have their own little way of determining this and how they want to do this.
As I existed the festival the only thing I felt bad about was that the temple was disturbing the hundreds of monkeys in the temple’s trees. The poor monkeys had to suffer through six days with out sleep as the festival lasts from 8pm until 5am. And hidu’s are supposed to be against harming animals!
Ok now I’m tired. I only managed to chronicle one experience. The other two include working with the kids from fair mail and visiting their homes (a wonderful eye opener to have and have not) and attending an Indian party for a ‘wedding anniversary’ (complete with married couple feeding each other cake)… so to be continued.
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