Ganga Maa

The town of Haridwar, in the northern state of Uttarakand, is one of the most sacred among Hindus. It is one of the first towns to greet the Ganges River, or Ganga Maa (mother), as its called here, as it forms from three main rivers pouring out of glaciers and snow melt of the Himalayas. Unlike the muddy, corpse-filled Ganga of Varanasi (which I haven't visited yet, and thus cannot make first hand comparison) the Ganga here is still blue and apparently clean.

Arriving in Haridwar on Friday afternoon and staying until Sunday morning, I resided in an ashram nearby the river. And elderly woman, friends with Gravis, welcomed me into the ashram. Another old woman's late husband was the swami here at Sarvodaya Satsang Ashram.

3 old ladies, about 6 preteen brahmin boys who are learning the art of priesthood, as well as a few adult male staff, and the frequent wandering sadhus in their orange robes make for an interesting dyanmic at the ashram.

One boy, Devi Lal, was assigned the task of taking the American girl around Haridwar yesterday and showing her all of the temples. The Hindu temples were garish, neon things, reminding me more of theme parks than holy sites. Giant plaster statues brightly painted were set in theatrical backdrops. One statue's arm moved up an down with sword in hand, slicing his opponent. Krishna's boat filled with gopals rocked back and forth in a jerky ocean. Dropati spun around and around as her magically endless sari was unravelled by an evil man as her husband gambled even her away in the infamous game of dice in the Mahabharat epic. I would have thought Hinduism to be a sensationalist, gruesome, over-the-top religion from the depictions in these temples had I not lnown some of the deeper significance of some of the stories.

Devi lal and I crawled into mock stone caves and walked through mock tunnels where water flowed and saw the faces of gods "carved" into the sides.

After I don't know how many of the same type of theme-park-temples where I payed for our entrance fee, prasad (sacred puffed rice or rock candy given by the priests), to continue through to the next cave or sanctum, and finally to pick up our sandals at the entrance, I'd had enough of Hindu Disneyland for awhile and we headed back to the ashram.

What did feel special to me about Haridwar was seeing the Ganga maa for the first time and bathing in her. Of course, for modesty I wore full clothes to swim out into the water, but even so, letting the water wash over me was something special. Perhaps its just that I've been in parched Rajasthan for months and haven't been swimming since the beaches of Santa Barbara (I'm pretty sure), or maybe there really is something different about the Ganga. Sending a little leaf bowl filled with flowers and a butter candle down the Ganga as I stood on her banks is something that I've felt I must do before I left India.