573 Steps

I woke up feeling so deeply content today.

Even the fact that I’ve spent nearly three hours typing this blog post only to have it be half tiny, tiny font that makes it challenging to read has not destroyed my contentment.

(If you adjust your view button to a larger font size that will help. I’ve tried to adjust it for 30 minutes and I must get ready to catch my train so unfortunately I can’t work on adjusting the size anymore.)

I’m finding myself not wanting to come home which is probably a good thing given that I’m not coming home for 5 weeks.

I’m meeting lots of people who are traveling for 6, 12, 24 months! Finding myself longing to be gone that long too. But this is a perfect dipping my toe in the water for perhaps a longer journey at some point in the near future….

I’ve had one incredible adventure after another. There is something so potent about opening up to the unknown of travel that has created such rich experiences for me so far.

Not all has been bliss (food poisoning twice, blisters on the feet which have made walking challenging and beloved exercise has been out of the question, sunburn that turned into boil-type blisters, the bombing in Pune, beds as hard as rocks (and pillows only a little softer) but… I can’t recall a time in my life when I felt as deeply fulfilled and content.

I feel so connected to myself. I’m so grateful I’m traveling alone and getting this experience of the deep and utter connection and confidence within myself. Plus it is enabling me to meet lots of people in a way that just wouldn’t be possible were I traveling with a partner or even a friend.

I’ve been spending about $200-300 a week the past couple of weeks and living pretty well. It’s incredible how little money can be spent here while still living pretty high on the hog.  Bali is much more expensive than India so it’s good that I’m not spending much in India (except for the Pune ashram which was SUPER expensive…)

I arrived in Hampi 3 days ago and tonight am heading to Kerala (home of Ayurveda, Amma and the beautiful backwaters which can only be journeyed by boat).

The first night I arrived I simply enjoyed the lush beauty of the rice fields and mountainous rock formations that must be experienced first-hand to be fully enjoyed. The contrast of the lush, lush green with the sandy-colored boulder mountains is otherworldly.

I awoke the next morning wondering what I would do. There were bikes for rent and so I rented one for 1 dollar and rode the rickety old thing down the village dirt road.

Thousand year old ruins were on each side of the road with water buffalo bathing in the river to the left. A man was killing noisy squawking chickens to the right of me.

It was like stepping back hundreds of years in time except that I was on a bike.

I rode on and on, past children rolling circles with sticks, past barking dogs, past rickshaws parked on the side of the road, past women dressed in colorful saris who were making lunch over a fire.

I spotted a white building perched on the very tip top of a mountain to my left.

I couldn’t figure out if it was a house or ???

I kept riding until I came to a road with a coconut stand on the side. I could see the white building clearly from that road.

“Is that a house?” I asked the coconut seller.

“That is temple. Very holy temple. Hanuman Temple.”

“Can I go see it?” I asked.

“Yes, you go see now. Many steps. It’s hot. You want coconut? Refreshing for the journey to temple.”

“Maybe on the way back.Can you watch my bike?”

“I watch your bike. You go temple.”

The coconut seller wasn’t kidding when he said many steps. 573 steps total.

But oh, what a view.

When I got to the top I just stood, huffing and puffing and stared at the view below.

Before I left Goa to go to Hampi a fellow traveler had told me that she half expected dinosaurs to be walking around Hampi. It has that prehistoric look and feel to it.

I walked inside the temple and stood before the altar. Instinctively I dropped to my knees and put my bowed hands to my head. I’ve never done that in a temple before but this temple radiated holiness and power.

Then I wandered around to the opposite end of the mountain top and saw a building that I thought was a restroom.

I walked into it but actually it was a sadhu hut.

“Come in, come in,” said a man wrapped only in a sarong.

“Sit,” he gently commanded.

“Where you from?” he asked.

“America.”

“You do what in America?” he asked.

“I’m a business owner,” I said.

“Oh, you very rich then. Business owner. Rich.”

“No not really, I do okay. Not what you would call rich though,” I replied.

“America very rich. India not so rich. But India rich in people. In America it is the looking after oneself only. In India it is the rich connection with other peoples. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes, I know exactly what you are talking about,” I agreed.

“I’m Krishna Das. You?”

“Kristin.”

“You notice I’m not Indian, Kristin?” Krishna asked.

“Yes, actually I did notice. Where are you from?”

“Malaysia. I have an experience on January one, year two thousand and it change my life. One day I wake up and I just different.”

“What brought you to India?” I ask.

“The same thing that brought you to India, Kristin. It is my destiny. Whatever is destiny must happen.”

We look at each other and smile, both of us feeling the lines of destiny connecting us in that moment.

I felt my eyes involuntarily tear up.

“You want you can stay here. Live at temple. You eat with us, you meditate with us. Do puja with us. No problem,” he smiled. “Come. You meet girls.”

And I followed him around the back of the sadhu hut where he introduced me to the only other people that had been invited to stay at the temple: two Spanish women.

So I spent two days there. I would stay at my guesthouse at night and get a rickshaw to take me to the base of the temple early in the morning and ascend the 573 steps that led to the Hanuman Temple. Monkeys would greet me at the top as would the sunrise.

We would do puja in the morning in the temple. The big Baba (guru) who actually lived in the temple would bless the altar with candles, incense and chants (the same altar that I’d instinctively bowed down to upon my arrival).

At the same time we would all be instructed to ring bells, drums, gongs as loud as we possible could.

It was outrageous, loud, and always brought a big, broad smile to my face. I just couldn’t help myself from smiling.

Being there felt so natural and right.

Then after puja we would eat breakfast (oh my the food was the best I have ever tasted).

Then we would meditate.

Then we would lie around in the shade and keep cool.

Then lunch.

Then we would meditate.

Then do puja again.

Then dinner.

And then I’d catch my rickshaw at the bottom of the 573 steps at 10pm that night.

Last night was my last night as I’m leaving for Kerala today.

Twice yesterday Baba invited me to stay the night on the mountain and sleep outside next to the Spanish girls and leave the next day.  He has such kind eyes and such a gentle, humble spirit.

“You stay tonight. You wake up with us. You do the meditation and puja and breakfast. Then you leave.”

I wanted to stay but I also found myself wanting to go. To sleep in my guesthouse and sleep in.

It was a touch decision, especially with Baba personally asking me.It was an honor.

I had to really explore what I wanted (this trip has been so much about that–what do I really want?) and when I got quiet I realized I did want to go ‘home’ and have a leisurely morning in the flatland.

But I told him that I will be back.

“Next year?” he asked.

“Maybe next year. Maybe year after. Will you still be here Baba?” I asked.

“Yes, I still be here. You come back, ” he said.

I will.

Tagged as: Baba Hanuman Temple, Hanuman Temple in Hampi, Krishna Das in Hampi, Virupapurgadda