On Saturday, Helena, a Canadian guy named Steve and I left the beach to go to Amma’s ashram for two nights. When we arrived in the evening, Amma was giving dharshan (originally the viewing of a saint, but in her case she gives a hug to everybody who comes). Shortly after arriving, we were whisked away to the back of the temple by one of the Ashram residents. Within a few minutes we were in line. As usually, I was curious but did not expect anything significant. When the man in front of me (a Westerner) put his hands to his face as if crying after his hug, I found it overly dramatic. Then it was my turn. Her helper put my hand on the cushion next to Amma, who then pulled me in to her shoulder. She held me for about five seconds, and murmured in my ear. I couldn’t really hear what she said. Then she started to let me go, and then pulled me back a second time. When she did release me, I was dizzy and disoriented. Somebody pressed something into my hand. Another assistant helped me to stand up, and I slowly wandered off in a daze. The initial feeling of disorientation turned to confused amazement that I really had felt something. Neither Helena nor Steve had felt anything special.
After the dharshan, Amma took a thirty minute break, before coming to the large pavillion to sing devotional songs. The music was really amazing, and very relaxing. The crowd of several hundred people was very diverse, including South and North Indians (including Sikhs and Muslims), and many foreigners.
The next day I started with some meditation, and then we went to watch Amma do dharshan for awhile. Steve went again in the morning, and this time he also felt moved. In the afternoon, Helena and I did seva chopping vegetables in the kitchen, which we happily ate later in the evening.
That evening was a special dharshan, in which Amma would dress as the goddess Devi. Things started with Amma giving a talk at 5:00. This led into music which lasted until 8:30. With only a half-hour break, she began dharshan again at 9:00 and continued without a break, not even standing up, for 13 hours. At around midnight I had a chance to get another hug. I was very curious to see what would happen. Although I felt very relaxed, and happy afterwards, it was not nearly as dramatic as the first hug. Afterwards, I sat on the stage behind her for an hour. I also had a chance to be an assistant, by handing her prasad (blessed offerings) for her to give to the devotees.
I really enjoyed the positive atmosphere in the ashram. I found little of the holier-than-though attitude which one often finds in such communities. As a newbie, I was treated with special honor. I highly recommend a stay at the ashram to anybody coming to India.
It was nice to get back to Varkala. To hear the mosque as one walked along the beach to have delicious Keralan food. To hear the surf when one went to bed. But I really want to go back and get another hug.

We took an auto rickshaw down to a palace, which still belongs to the Travancore royal family. We went for a tour. For a palace it is more comfortable than flambouyant. It is two stories high, and is made of wood — much of which is beautifully carved. While there, we found out that there was to be a concert on the grounds from 6-9 that evening. We decided to stay for the concert and went for a walk.
The concert was a South Indian Vocal concert given by Prince Aswathi Thirunal Rama Varma of the royal family. He was accompanied by a violin, a two-sided drum called a ‘mridangam’ and a ‘ghatam’ (a large clay pot). The stage was a porch of the palace. The musicians were surrounded by dozens of ail lamps.
When the concert started, I didn’t much like the Prince’s voice, and thought it would be a long three hours. Soon, however, I was riveted. All the musicians were very talented, and his voice proved equally amazing. A short time into the concert, everybody stood as the Maharaja arrived. Later, the full moon rose over the palace. When the concert ended over 3 1/2 hours later, it seemed too soon.
After the concert, we had another great meal, and retired to the hotel. That night was one of my worst nights in India. The hotel room was unbearably hot, and full of mosquitos. I was eaten alive. Yet I was still in a great mood in the morning.
The next day we headed down to Kanyakumari, the southern tip of India. A three-hour bus trip brought us to the crowded pilgrimage spot. It was fairly uneventful, except that it was impressive to see waves breaking from opposite directions over the sand. Our adventure ended at around midnight, when we arrived back in Varkala.
I have really enjoyed taking short trips from a home base. It is nice to have less luggage to worry about, and to know you have a comfortable, safe place waiting for you.

The next morning I dragged myself out of bed early and went to a closeby Syrian Orthodox Church. Supposedly part of the liturgy is still in Aramaic, but as everything is chanted, I wasn’t able to distinguish the Aramaic from the Malayalam. I was surprised at how much the service resembled western services — it seems pretty clear that even this Church was heavily influenced by the European colonizers.
After the service, and a yummy breakfast, I headed over to Jew Town. Before the middle of the 16th C. there had been a Jewish principality in Kerala — having been granted by a Hindu maharaja. The state was destroyed by the to Portuguese, and many of the Jews fled to Cochin. They were granted land and protection by the Maharaja of Cochin, and built a synagogue next to the royal palace. Virtually the entire population of Jews left for Israel after 1949. Now only two families, with 14 members remain. It seems sad to me that a community that had existed for over 2000 years has disappeared so quickly.