Sai Baba!

Sai Ram! Beth and I left Goa and some unfortunate sea food (first vom attack of the trip) far far behind in search of some spiritual enlightenment at the ashram of Sai Baba here in Puttaparthi, near Bangalore. Here's the low down on Sai Baba incase you don't already know- He's 81 years old, five feet nothin' and he rocks an orange robe and an afro every day. His followers, and there's millions of them all over the world, think he's god. At the age of 14 he went into a trance and woke up a few days later saying he was the reincarnation of Shirdi Sai Baba, a lesser known Muslim/Hindu guru that had died 22 years earlier. He supposedly heals the sick and performs other miracles, mostly waving his hands and pulling objects out of the air. His specialty is producing holy ash from the air which he gives to followers, who then eat it or rub it on themselves in some infected area that needs healing.

We've been here 5 days now, and I'm not so convinced that this dude is god. We've been attending darshan, a mass blessing by his presence, where he gets driven around the prayer in an electric car before disappearing into a room for a while. People wait for hours in the crazy heat to see this and can't contain themselves when he's driven by, which I guess makes sense since they think he's god. Today must have been a very special darshan because instead of heading into the room straight away, he wheeled around the prayer hall (he's in a wheel chair since a nasty spill in 2002) and let everyone get a good look at him. People went nuts. Some people had to be contained. Beth and I wondered what was going on. We did a lot of looking at each other and shrugging. He talked more privately to a few people and at one point materialized a necklace for a little boy. Or he pulled it out of his sleeve, whatever you want to believe. He decided to hang with the crowd for a little while, and different groups performed devotional songs and skits for him which I guess are prepared for just such an occasion. My favorite part by far was when a marching band played that devotional classic "Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely" by the Backstreet Boys. It was moving for sure. But it somehow failed at convincing me that this guy's god. We roll out on Monday, maybe I'll have changed my mind by then.

Other than the disappointment of not actually finding a living avatar of god, Puttaparthi is a great place to stay. The ashram is beautiful and people seem to be really friendly. Things are less expensive than in other parts of India, and there's even an organic foods store. We were greeted on day one by a really really friendly face from home which helped a lot. It was great to have such a hospitable welcoming committee who knew the area so well. We even got a home cooked lunch which made me miss home quite a bit.

Two months in, one month left...

The difference between wondering and wandering.

First, a note on the last entry. It has recently been brought to my attention, by Beth, that "wondering" and "wandering" are in fact two different words. I wonder how I got through 12 years of public school and two years at a real university without ever finding this out. Sorry. We weren't wondering around the streets of Mumbai, we were wandering. Or were we...

And now...

After our brush with Bollywood fame, Beth and I spent a few more cafe filled days in Mumbai, and one day at the nearby Elephanta Island, home of the first of a string of cave temples, which houses a giant three headed shiva sculpture. One of shiva's heads seems mad for some reason. Maybe it's the fact that his hair is made out of a writhing mass of snakes, or simply the fact that he's responsible for the destruction of the universe every 3.14 billion years. I don't know. I really liked Mumbai, but we were there just long enough that I was really really ready to hop on a 4am train for a 7 hour ride northeast to Aurangabad. Aurangabad was the staging area for two day trips to nearby cave temples of Ajanta and Ellora. It's been an archaeology-tastic few weeks. Apparently it doesn't matter how far away from my roots I get, Archaeology follows me like a fine at Blockbuster. The Ajanta caves, which we scoped out first are all Buddhist temples and monasteries cut into the side of a cliff overlooking a bend in the now dry river below. They were abandoned and forgotten for over 1,000 years until a team of British hunters found them while tracking a tiger. Thank you British colonialism! Not only did they re-discover the cave temples, but they got rid of that horrible wild-animal infestation in the area. Whew. Anyway, Ajanta is famous for it's paintings, which are lovely and actually quite well preserved, but hard to see as they're all inside caves which aren't lit up so as not to damage the paintings more.

Ellora, which we visited the next day is a collection of Buddhist, Jain, and Hundu cave temples. Apparently the idea really caught on in this area. The centerpiece of Ellora is the giant cave 16, for which the word cave is something of a misnomer. It's more like an open temple surrounded by rock face which has been carved as a copy of holy mountain Kailash, where Shiva and his wife Parvati shack up. It's supposed to be the largest monolithic structure in the world, carved out of the hillside from the top down. I'm impressed. I couldn't do it.

We happily left Aurangabad, not a great urban center of the world, on a overnight bus to Goa last Wednesday. Buses are hard to sleep on, but the seats are still a lot softer than most of the beds we've encountered here. I have a theory that the total lack of mattresses we've found here is responsible for the popularity of massage. I think it holds some water. Anyway, we rolled into Arambol Beach on Thursday morning planning to stay a few days and haven't left yet. Goa is wildly different than the rest of India. It's a tropical string of Beaches and home to a ton of ageing ex-pats, and most startling of all, it's Catholic. It reminds me a lot of Guatemala actually. Goa really belongs in Latin America. It just ended up in India somehow by mistake. I love it, but it's not the real India. There's something about spending all day everyday reading on the beach that makes it easy to stay. It's a much needed break from the craziness and stress of travel in India. Last night was our fifth beach sunset in a row. How will we convince ourselves to move on?

We'll do it somehow. There's still a ton of stuff to see. Here's a few pictures to catch you up. Sorry there's not more!
Ohhh no! Who is it? It's the camel I rode across the Great Thar Desert!







Jaswant Thada, a Maharajah's tomb in Jodhpur, Rajasthan








Jodhpur - the blue city in Rajasthan from the fort.








Our fave, the ghats and holy lake in Pushkar, Rajasthan.
Check it out- this is where Gandhi's ashes were spread after his funeral.