My visit to the ashram of Amma, the “hugging saint” or “hugging guru” (Part 2 of 2)

I get my hug and a message I do not understand

Tuesday

I awoke to chanting at 5:00. This is not what I needed to hear at this time of the morning.

(Later in the day, when I asked Angelo about it, he said that it was the chanting of the 1,000 names for mother. Frankly, whatever it was, I would much prefer that there be an announcement that if you want to chant the 1,000 names for mother at 5:00, it will be offered at X place, so you can go if you like, and that way it won’t be inflicted upon people who want to sleep at that time.

In checking with some other people, I learned that this does not come from the ashram, but from a temple nearby in the village.)

I could see that the room temperature had plummeted to 81ºF/27ºC. There was certainly no need for an electric blanket.

I managed to get back to sleep, which is not always possible for me when I am awakened. Later on, at about 7:00, I was the first one up, took my shower, and headed to the Western canteen for something to eat.

The set breakfasts would be available at 9:00, in the middle of my seva duty, so I wanted something to eat before then.

While I hung around the Western canteen, I could see some posters that promoted the vast charity work that is done by Amma and the contributors to her organization. This is the headquarters through which the donations are made to several areas of work around the world: disaster relief, hunger, education, green initiatives, building homes, empowerment of women, health care, orphanages, public health and sanitation, research (much of which is in technology for improving people’s lives), community outreach for widows, elderly, weddings for poor, and meditation for prisoners and soldiers.

In tsunami disaster relief alone, Amma’s organization was able to contribute $46 million. I find that to be quite impressive and encouraging.

While I have no qualms about supporting the philanthropic work of the organization, I am not as much at ease with the invocation of gods or the guru worship — both of the fairy tale variety (Krishna, Shiva, Ganesha) and of Amma herself.

In any event, it’s possible to read about Amma at these websites: www.embracingtheworld.org and at www.amma.org.

I’ve had a chance to speak to and listen to quite a few people by now. In addition to Indians, there are many people from (in no particular order) the USA, Australia, France, Germany, Holland, Spain, and Italy. There are more countries than these, of course. The guy who gave me the orientation tour the other day is from Montenegro; I spoke to a guy from Finland, too.

At 8:30 I reported for my dish-drying seva. Who would have thought that the simple task of drying dishes would be accompanied by two full pages of typewritten instructions? Indeed, it was! “What kind of instructions?” you may ask.

Make sure to check for dirty spots while drying.

What to do when there is too much water left in a bowl.

When to use microfiber wipes and when to use cotton towels.

Which dishes and bowls go on the front table and which ones go on the back table.

Which plates go where.

Which cups have to be returned to the Indian canteen and which stay in the Western.

Where the mugs go.

Where to take dishes when the food service is over.

The combinations on the locks of the two trunks where the dish towels are stored. (Yes, the dish towels are kept under lock and key.)

Make sure to let the person in charge know of your departure date.

Get a replacement if you can’t do your seva.

The dishware used here is of the stainless steel variety. As for soup/cereal bowls alone, I counted more than a dozen different sizes and shapes. Add to that the ones that are banged up or misshapen in some way, and that poses a challenge to getting them all stacked up together, especially since some of the sizes vary only minimally — but enough to make sure that they don’t fit well together when stacked.

The head of the dish-drying routine has ordained which towels will be used by the diners after they eat and then wash their own dishes (cotton), and which will be used by those on dish-drying duty (microfiber).

In any event, it all went smoothly and I enjoyed the small chit-chat with people. Most of the people here are in a cheerful mood and are pleasant with their greetings.

I then took a day trip to Alleppey (the colonial name for Allepuzha) to see the canals there, as suggested by my friend Terry. This seemed to be a good day for the journey.

Back in my room at the end of the evening, when I went to sleep the temperature was even warmer than yesterday: 87ºF/30.5ºC.

Wednesday

The food has been quite good, yet up to now, there have been no fresh vegetables. I have been craving salad.

First thing in the morning, when I was getting my breakfast, I was happy to see some people doing their seva by cutting up tomatoes and cucumbers. I was hoping that these would show up in a meal soon!

After I had some breakfast I did my dish-drying seva. The ending time coincided with assignments of times for darshan.

Darshan is the practice of Amma giving hugs. I was assigned my darshan time for 18:00, immediately after my time to sit on stage with Amma while she offers darshan to others. I thought, As long as I am here I may as well get my hug and see what that is like.

In the morning I walked around to see the various amenities offered on the grounds of the ashram. There is a fabric shop, gift shop, second-hand shop, a place called the “Indian shop” which is groceries and sundries, an Internet room (thirty minutes maximum while others are waiting), a juice bar, coconut stand, and a shop where one can buy memorabilia featuring the likeness of Amma.

I had a nice conversation with a guy named Ravi from Mumbai. He has been coming here annually for nine years now. We had one conversation in the morning and then showed up at the same time for the free Indian lunch.

I could have been completely satisfied with the Indian lunch, which tasted great and was seasoned with a delightful amount of spice. I told Ravi that I had been thinking about those tomatoes and cucumbers all morning and I had to find out if they ended up in a salad.

Sure enough, when I went to the Western canteen, there was tomato and cucumber salad (20 INR/$.33 per bowl). Make mine a double! All it needed was a little bit of salt, and that was fabulous.

I think Ravi was amused to see me so excited about getting fresh vegetables. It seems not to be part of the typical diet here. He asked me what else he might add to that if he were making a salad at home. We talked a bit about vegetarianism, veganism, diet, and the like.

After lunch, I headed back to my room to rest for a while. It didn’t take long to realize that I had just lost something that I had used not even half an hour earlier: a little zippered bag that contained a washcloth, a small bar of soap, and a small spray bottle filled with water. This is always very useful to me in hot places, so that I can wipe my perspiring face and also when I (frequently) encounter bathroom sinks that have no soap.

What could have happened to this? Could it have fallen out of the messenger bag I was carrying with me today?

In any event, when I left my room an hour or so later, I began to make the rounds of the places where found items were taken. No luck anywhere.

When it was time, I headed to the stage to sit on it while Amma gave her hugs. No bags are allowed on stage, and no cell phones, either. I had to check them with security.

After sitting for a few minutes to watch her with the hugs, I could see that there are a lot of other people helping to support the process. When devotees come to get their hug, many of them bring things to Amma. These items are passed to people behind her, who then put them into containers waiting for them.

While hugging her devotees, Amma was talking to several of the assistants around her. I could see that there was not a lot of time devoted simply to hugging, and a lot of time to multitasking.

After observing for a few minutes, I felt that there was not much more to gain by watching that. I am sure that some of the devotees would disagree with me about this, as they hang on her every word and action.

I showed my darshan token to one of the stage workers and he said I could get in the queue for it right away. At that point, it was 16:45.

People sat in chairs waiting to go to the stage. Little by little, groups of people moved from the floor of the hall to the stage, which meant that all the people in the chairs get to move up a bit closer to the stage, almost like musical chairs, except for the fact that everyone gets a chair in the end.

At one point I got to the area where devotees could purchase items to give to Amma. The sign indicated:

OFFERINGS FOR AMMA

Garland, 200–250

Fruit plate, 100

Amma’s chocolates, 100–150

Since these items are being purchased right here at the ashram, and Amma’s organization sells them, they are evidently being purchased from Amma to give to Amma, and one can only guess that since she is not going to eat all that fruit and chocolate, they are going to be returned to the place where they can then be re-purchased for cycling through the system again. I may be wrong, but that’s how it appeared to my untrained eyes.

Waiting in the queue was not as straightforward as it could have been. After about an hour or so, there was a shift in the order of the queue: the two people who had been immediately behind me were relocated to a position more than thirty people ahead of me. Why? Because they were Indian.

Lots of Indians were permitted to jump the queue because they had come a long distance or were there for only the day, were waiting for a long time, and would soon need to leave to go home.

I had gone to the bathroom before I began waiting, but after an hour and a half, I really had to pee, so I was able to leave and then return to my reserved space in line.

Once we reached a certain point, we were shown an instruction sheet about how we needed to wipe our faces. If we didn’t have anything for that, some toilet paper was provided. We were also told that we should not grab onto Amma, but rest our weight on the floor or on the chair next to her.

As I approached, one of her assistants asked me what language I spoke. I thought that that may have some sort of impact on what she would say to me.

Then, a full two and a half hours since I had begun waiting, the big moment came. I followed those before me by moving from my seat, getting on my knees, and inching closer to Amma as she sat in her chair.

There is lots of film footage here about Amma showing up with gifts for people in disaster areas. When she and the other person are both standing, the hug is mutual.

But when she is seated, her hug is not like that. I more or less leaned on her and she put her arms around my shoulders. She said something I didn’t understand: “Marone, marone, marone, marone.”

Then she spoke to some of her assistants, all the while still holding onto me. After a bit of time she repeated, “Marone, marone, marone, marone.” Then it was over.

I have no idea what her words were supposed to mean.

I was told in advance that I would probably want to sit down to gather my feelings for a while. It was supposed to be a surreal experience that leaves people ecstatic and elated. In all honesty, there was really nothing to recover from. Off I went.

I feel like I will need to be careful in the way I talk about this experience, especially with many of the long-term residents here. They are staunch devotees of Amma. I completely share the enthusiasm that they have for her humanitarian work. It’s the celebrity worship of Amma that doesn’t resonate with me.

Thursday

People here reflect pretty much a cross-section of society, but I really didn’t expect to see as much antisocial, aggressive, or hostile behavior as I have seen. By and large, everyone has been very friendly and outgoing, but there seem to be quite a few damaged souls who have come here in search of… something… and are inflicting their difficulties on others.

No need to go into details on any of the incidents. Just a constant reminder that there are lots of people around us who need to be treated with compassion.

In addition to the overtly antisocial behavior, it is surprising to me how many people are unwilling or disinterested in replying to a friendly smile and greeting with the same. There are lots of people who don’t make eye contact, and when they do, I get lots of blank stares.

It’s a good reminder not to have expectations, especially when it comes to the behavior of other people.

In the late morning, I picked up my laundry and was informed that they don’t wash underwear or socks. This meant that I would have to get back to my room and wash these myself, hoping that they would dry by the time I leave tomorrow. Fortunately, Angelo has a spare bucket and laundry soap.

When I went back to my room Angelo was there. We had a good conversation about Amma and what she possibly could have meant by, “Marone, marone, marone.”

He had not heard this before but thought it had something to do with calling me “my son,” which calls to mind the fact that she is six years younger than I. “My son,” indeed!

Angelo and I went to lunch together. Lunch was great — more fresh vegetables. I had a big serving of them but also needed my daily fix of the spicy Indian food, which I love.

It looks like I will have to find a hotel at my next destination. I have sent messages to people on Airbnb, but they seem not to be fully participating in the program, in that their profiles indicate it’s been a long time since they updated their calendars.

It should be pretty easy to find a hotel, and I am going to get a really nice room, definitely with air conditioning and a good wireless connection after these four days in the ashram.

Before dinner, I gathered some items in my messenger bag, including my reusable cloth shopping bag, and went off the grounds of the ashram and over the bridge to get a papaya and a pineapple for tomorrow’s breakfast.

(By the way, the papayas and pineapples here are not only delicious but cheap. A whole one usually costs less than a dollar. At some of the markets, the salesperson will slice up the pineapple for you, too.)

When I dug into the messenger bag to get my reusable cloth bag, it was not there. What the hell is going on? How could I have lost it? Oh, well, maybe I had left it in the room after all. But when I got back to the room it was not there.

This is not such a great loss. I not only get these free from my bank, but I have a spare one in my luggage.

I have checked the lost and found places for my other bag, but it has not shown up. I hope whoever found it will use it in good health.

At about 22:00 I went to the kitchen to help Angelo prepare yogurt for tomorrow. While we were doing that, Amma was finishing up her darshan for the day. By the time we were done with the yogurt project, people were lining up along the area where Amma would be leaving the hall to go home for the evening.

It reminded me of teenagers waiting outside a theater or hotel to see the Beatles as they left.

There is a monitor above the stage in the hall. It shows Amma all day long as she gives darshan. When the monitor was turned off, it indicated that she had completed her work and would soon be leaving.

Sure enough, she soon emerged. As she walked by, she touched the hands of some people who were waiting. Next to Angelo and me, there were some people who had a young child with them. When she saw him, she stopped. She said something to indicate that she wanted the child handed to her. Then she walked away, taking the child with her. I imagine the people got their child back at some point.

And then she was gone.

“Elvis has left the building.”

Amritapuri to Thiruvananthapuram*

Friday

*Yes, there really is a place with this name, which is why it is called Trivandrum — its colonial name — for short.

I was awake at 4:00 and could not get back to sleep. I left the room with my computer so I could do some updating of the blog. I didn’t want to wake up Angelo or Tanaka-san. Angelo had been awake in the middle of the night, too, but he was asleep when I left. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up to say goodbye.

I had my breakfast, did my seva, checked out, and met Nidhin at the front gate of the ashram so that he could drive me to the railway station.

I left the ashram with a special gift from those I had spent time with: I was just starting to catch a cold.

At the Kayamkulam Junction train station, all I did was buy the ticket for the next train to Trivandrum. I didn’t know anything about fast, slow, or anything in between. During the train ride, the guy sitting next to me pointed out that we were passing several stations. It was an express train. “That is why it cost twice as much,” he explained.