A Few Lessons in Hate, Love, and Self-Discovery

I've realized in India there are days when I HATE it and days when I LOVE it. This past weekend’s trip to Mysore included two such days.

A group of seven of us went by car to Mysore for the weekend (about a four hour drive from Shanti Bhavan). Some stomach bug must have been going around, so three from our group fell dangerously sick. I was one of the lucky healthy few, but it was scary to see just how sick the three other volunteers got. They were vomiting, feverish, and one of them actually fainted, hit her head, and it started bleeding. Not good! After taking care of the sick volunteers and getting them resting in our squalid hotel rooms (Recommendation #1: never go super-budget in India)..the other three volunteers and I went out to explore Mysore for a few hours. Finding your way around the streets of Indian cities whether alone or in a group can be daunting and disappointing. On the days when you hate India, you are overwhelmed by how incredibly dirty, smelly, pushy, gratingly loud, rough, depressing, hopeless and unrelenting it feels. The amount of trash, number of people, number of cars, bikes, carts, rusty buses, motorcycles, the number of stray, starving, suffering animals…sometimes you just want to close your eyes, ears, nose and take a break even for a few minutes – but you can’t. You are in the middle of it all and thousands of miles from home.

But then another day comes and you see the other side of the coin. Our next day in Mysore was one of those days. I hope I can adequately describe this day and its brilliance. All healthy again (amazingly), we got an early start and took our car up Chamundi Hill which is a sacred hill outside Mysore. There are two temples on top of the hill that we were going to visit. When we reached the top of the hill, we had amazing views of Mysore and the surrounding country. And the closer we got towards the temples, we started seeing countless monkeys and their babies. I just about died seeing them because they were SO cute. When we got to the main temple, everyone has to take their shoes off. It's become one of my favorite parts about India because when you first see the hundreds of people, the very American thoughts of "someone's going to steal my shoes" and "my feet are going to be disgustingly dirty after this" pop into your head. But the best lesson India has taught me is to let go. Just let go. It’s a simple demonstration of that very profound lesson, but it’s true - I've never lost my shoes and I've learned to actually love the feeling of walking around India barefoot. There's something so human, natural, and right about getting your feet dirty in India. And there's a deep spiritual energy felt from the bottom of your bare feet through the rest of your body as you walk through a holy temple. Your feet are dirty, yes - but finally alive and sharing the feel of the cool, smooth stones with the rest of humanity.

There are two temples, as I said, at the top of Chamundi Hill. Most people stand in a massive line to see the big, main temple. There was a really nice old man who offered to be our tour guide (for the equivalent of about $2) and he took us to the smaller temple at the back, which is close to 2,000 years old. Apparently they only decorate it one day every year, and the day we were there happened to be the special day. The universe here in India does it’s best to make up for the days where you hate India. ☺ So at the temple this day, they were celebrating the marriage of the god Shiva to Parvathi. Our guide gave us kumkum powder to sprinkle on the stone idols as an offering. The old temple was so quiet and peaceful - definitely one of my favorite places in India so far. And behind the stone idols grows a beautiful "holy tree”.

While we were making the offerings, a monkey came up to see if we had any food. When our guide shoed it away, it got mad, stole the palm-frond decorations that were laying on the stones and ran away. I didn't mean to, but I laughed SO hard. The monkey totally jacked all the decorations from the temple. Hilarious.

As we left the old temple, my friend Shreya and I bought a small bracelet which the priest blessed for us - it's a simple string bracelet with one rudraksh bead on it. Here's what my friend's book says about the rudraksh bead: "The word rudraksh literally means the eyes of Rudra, lord Shiva. Once when Shiva opened his eyes after a long deep meditation his tears of joy and peace fell on the earth and took the shape of the fruit of the rudraksh tree which grows wild in the Himalayas. The berries drop off, the green fruit skin dries up and the seeds harden into the rudraskh beads." So they represent Shiva's tears.

After the old temple, we walked a thousand steps down the hill to see Nandi, Shiva's bull statue. More monkeys, beautiful views of Mysore, and more spirituality.

As we all drove home, my favorite time of day in rural India was approaching – dusk and sunset. Randomly, for the first time yet this trip, I decided to pull out my iPod and listen to my favorite music. Usually I let the Indian music that spins out of every car radio be my soundtrack…but not this time. I’d call it a rare form of homesickness, perhaps, though I didn’t necessarily feel sad or nostalgic. Instead, I was watching my new environment pass by out the window while listening to the music that always reminds me of who I truly am. It felt as if I was both Old Allegra and New Allegra all at the same time…I thought about all of the people I love – my friends, my family, the many people who make up the fabric of my life....and instead of sadness, I felt for the first time that where I am is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. This year is a gift to me, and one month has already past. My heart filled up, my courage sparked, and I turned up my music.