Ashram & Backwater

Some people come to India to visit one of the many ashrams in the hopes of finding spiritual harmony. An ashram visit seemed to fit in with the purpose of our trip, which is to see many of the different ways people live. The Amritapuri Ashram is only about 50 km from Varkala and, as it is very popular with western visitors, we have had first hand accounts (including Gord and Erin) of how inviting it is for even a less devoted visitor to see something of Ashram life.

Amritapuri is home to the “Amma”, or the hugging mother, who is one of India’s better-known spiritual leaders. The ashram, which is located in the fishing village where she grew up, is large enough to house thousands of visitors at any one time, and the 12 story pink buildings towering over the palms are quite a surprising sight. Once inside the gates, we were directed to the International Office, where two young German devotees in white cotton dhotis, efficiently checked us in. We were issued a corner room on the 11th floor of building D, with a view of the backwater canal and a wonderful cool breeze. The room was Spartan: one bare light bulb, mats on the floor (we knew to bring our own sheets) and a simple bathroom. Pillows were available on request, but we didn’t think to go when the supply room was open!

Perhaps it was the large hotel complex look of the place but we were slow to get into the Ashram frame of mind and the kids found the pace a bit slow. In fact right up until minutes before we left, serious devotees felt they needed to remind us “this is an ashram, not a playground.” Like a boarding school or a resort, the day’s events are set to a schedule. We declined to join the 4:30-6:00am “Chanting the 1000 names of the Divine Mother” but did catch some of the “Meditation on the Beach at Sunset” and “Bhajans” or devotional singing at 7pm. As the Amma was not in residence the Bhajans were segregated and there were only about 40 men at our session (Kathleen estimated 100 women at their location) where Rob and I chanted along with enthusiasm. I have always liked the sound of the harmonium and voices raised in song for Krishna, which seem to me to be the most musical of the eastern devotional chants, so I was glad to join a class in devotional singing. We were about a dozen foreigners, all new to the ashram, who were led by a pleasant French devotee through the fundamental patterns and vocal techniques of a few of the popular chants. As we chanted, I began to let the outside world slip away and understand the appeal of the devotional life in an ashram. As well, because of the class, we were able to join in the evening Bhajans with a greater understanding and appreciation of what was taking place.

Meals were included in the cost of our room if we wanted join the long line of Indian devotees, students, and local poor who were invited to come in for rice and curry. After one Indian meal we discovered the western canteen that served pizza, toast with peanut butter and great coffee. At the canteen we met some other westerners, but mostly sightseers like us. The long-term devotees mostly kept to themselves, although Ann did speak to an American who had been there as long as possible for the past 12 years. I am sure that if we had stayed for a few days and participated in the daily chores we would have met more people, however one day was enough for this time.

Next morning we packed up and caught the train to Allepy. A huge part of Kerala is like Holland in that it is below sea level and the fields are drained into canals. According to the guidebooks, a boat trip on these backwaters is a “must do” for visitors to Kerala. We had looked into an overnight houseboat but decided that we did not really need a relaxing break from our relaxing life, and I was concerned that the kids would find the views from a small boat too dull after a few hours. Instead we took the 2 hour ferry from Allepy to Kottayam, which is the equivalent of a local bus that makes countless stops as it plies its route along the backwater lakes and canals. We lucked into the front seats where we had a great view of the lakes and canals, rice paddies, and as is always the case in India, the constant pageant of life lived in public. We saw locals crammed into tiny canoes and Indian “big shots” drinking whisky on huge houseboats; farmers cutting grass, harvesting rice, scooping reeds, people going to work, coming from school, women washing clothes, dishes and themselves, and of course, men just hanging out watching the people on the boat. The boat was reasonably comfortable, considering the fare came to less than $1 for all four of us, and we all agreed that a 2 hr trip was just about right.

To get to our flickr site with more pictures of the backwaters click on this handy link.