Temples and Tourists

I climbed many steps this weekend to reach beautiful hill-top temples and watch the sun sink over red unearthly looking rocks and bright green fields of rice and sugar cane. The white walls reminded me of a picture I love of mum in Ladakh under the prayer flags. I felt as if she had seen this peaceful place, it is the kind of scene that I have imagined ever since I was little when she told me stories of her travels. I felt strangely reverent and could hardly speak, it was as though I had stepped into all kinds of pasts. I watched the white walls turn pink and I wondered if mum had also trembled at similar sights.

Night fell on our way down from the temple and we wandered in the dark, following what we hoped was a trail until we reached a field surrounded by ruins. Of course we made it back to town, but I half-expected to be spreading my scarf on the ground for us to sleep. 

Hampi has one of the most surreal and beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. We were told that the town is scheduled to be demolished and many of the buildings along the main street already looked more worn than the ruins that surrounded them. How strange it was to see tourists, and to really be one of them. It was so fun to wake up in the mornings and drink real coffee and a heaping fruit salad before the heat of the day set in, to look in the little book store and finger a silk scarf, to lie down for an hour to escape the heat, and eat Thali in rooftop restaurants, resting on cushions. Our first day in Hampi we visited the main temple and Mikael was blessed by an elephant. He jumped away in alarm when the trunk reached to touch his head, but the elephant was patient with him and tried again. I could have sworn the elephant was amused.  

A smiling elephant

We then walked down to the river and saw a woman getting her head shaved, men bathing in the water and a snake charmer. When he asked for money, I said that I would come back later. I do that a lot, avoiding the word 'no' at all costs, something I should work on. Two holy men who we met on the first day never forgot my promise, popping up everywhere with a not-so-holy smile and asking for fifty rupees. I finally paid them because I started to feel superstitious...they are supposed to be able to perform magic after all. I didn't want to take any chances. After I paid them, we laughed, mutually exasperatedly, every time we met on the street. Hampi is very small.

The air in the town was so fresh and the fields surrounding it so green, I had a hard time imagining returning to Pune, where a few days ago a machine outside of my house was churning out black smoke that hung heavily in the air for blocks around.

When we met a young Indian man with long hair camping out in one of the empty temples that overlooks the town I wished I could join him. My awe faded somewhat when he began to speak. He told us that he only ingests organic things, including the tobacco in his beedis, but when we offered him a cookie to go with the tea he had made us over a small fire, he took it eagerly despite our warning that it was replete with artificial flavours. I got the feeling he wasn't very good at rejecting earthly pleasures yet.

Our last day in Hampi, we took a tiny boat across the river and rented a motor-bike and drove to the Hanuman temple we had seen from the first hill-top temple we visited. I draped my scarf over my damp forehead and we walked up the winding white steps. We drove to the lake and disregarding a handwritten sign that said to beware of crocodiles, we went for a swim. I swam in all of my clothes because we had an audience. It felt so good after the heat of climbing the stairs and walking barefoot around the shadeless temple.

                                                 

I am back in Pune and I feel at home here. This evening I lit incense and swept the floors before making dinner with the spices Alice bought for me. How amazing to watch the mustard seeds pop! I think I may have gotten carried away with the novelty of having so many spices at my disposal, but the cinnamon and cloves tasted surprisingly good in the curry. The room smells delicious. I have hung scarves over the chairs and watered the rose. New soft green leaves are sprouting and it seems to be enjoying its spot in Eliza's room where the sun shines in every afternoon. All is well.