Day Seven: Dancing for Krishna

On the way to the Temple

Before the ceremony began, Chine urged me to go into the middle of the circle of Hindu women and gave me a set of tiny bells to ring along with the drum. They tried to teach me the chants, which were constantly changing. Then the fire ceremony began and everyone got up. As we began to move, two of the elder women held my face gently in their hands; I don’t know what they said to me but the love in their eyes was so profound I felt blessed. The priest performed fire ceremony to worship Krishna by passing the lighted censor around the central statue seven times, then the statue on the left side of the altar. 

After, the drum and chanting of the women began again. The rhythm was irresistible, and I danced a little in place—Chime pushed me toward the circle, and they cleared a path for me; I was stuck—refusal was not an option. I danced in the Hindu temple in the middle of a group of 100 women dressed in the most beautiful saris. It was extraordinary, and, completely ignorant of what to do (and with the fervent hope I wouldn’t embarrass myself or anyone in my group), I started to dance. The drums and tiny bells were hypnotic. That mysterious power that comes over one in perfect flow had a hold of me, and I turned in circles, dancing and moving to the sound of the chants and drums. After a few minutes, I “namasted” everyone and escaped back to the group. Pamela called in “an integrating moment” when two widely separated cultures met and were entranced with one another.

After we left the Temple, I walked in a state of spaced-out bliss; oblivious, I ran into a motorcycle while stopping to photograph a sparkly bangle shop. The driver and I apologized to each other. What a mess that would have been for our karma, especially since he had the white stripe tika on his forehead, indicating a priest caste. Sparkly bangle shops are my nemesis: continuing along the dark, rough and muddy shit-filled street, I fell while being distracted by another sparkly bangle shop--everyone local laughed their asses off, by the way. I would have expected to be humiliated, but in fact, the moment passed quickly—so much for ignoring embarrassing moments. Skinned knees, but what a memory! 

Napping quarters at Karauali Palace