In Search of the Monsoon: Pondicherry

[continuation of July 11, 2004 email]

Pondicherry

Sunset in Pondicherry, looking sweetly out over the Bay of Bengal.

I headed to Pondicherry on a Monday morning; unfortunately the day before, while finishing my second circumambulation of Arunachala in the portion of the route that goes through town, I'd indulged in a milkshake made with ice--a faux pas in the traveler's guide to avoiding getting sick in India. You never know when they're going to put ice in a drink before you order, and then you're sitting there hot and thirsty so you drink it. I'd cheated on this rule a few times before with chilled juice drinks and gotten away with it, but not this time. I realized something bad was in my gut that next morning, but I wanted to get moving on from Tiruvannamalai. During the course of riding two connecting buses to get to Pondicherry I observed my stomach becoming progressively more uneasy even as I felt a bit feverish. Of course both buses were packed and made all the local stops; I sat up front to keep my bags out of the aisle as much as possible (which wasn't very much, as those local buses aren't really set up for stowing large backpacks) and was real close to the shrill airhorns which the drivers used constantly to announce their presence and intentions to pass slower-moving trucks, auto rickshaws, bicycles, and pedestrians along the way. At one point long after there was standing room only in the aisle a man was standing next to me holding a small child with sores on the poor kid's legs, and as more people squeezed onto the bus (in India there's always room for one more) the child's legs pressed against me--and what could I say? God only knew what was infecting that kid's legs, but I couldn't even imagine what a hard life he had. I wondered if this ride was going to get any worse (by now I was certainly aware this was a possibility in India).

The boardwalk along Goubert Avenue and the ocean in Pondicherry.

The Mahatma Gandhi memorial in Pondicherry.

Looking northwards as Pondicherry hugs the coast.

Through some act of will I made it Pondicherry without throwing up or losing control of my bowels, but I felt so woozy that once I'd checked into a decent guesthouse right on the ocean run by the Sri Aurobindo ashram I lay down and ended up sleeping almost the entire afternoon, leaving my room only to visit the guesthouse canteen briefly on wobbly legs and to delicately attempt to drink some tea and eat some toast. I'd had "Delhi belly" once before, but this was the first time I had a taste of the really incapacitating diarrhea I'd heard other travelers tell of.

The Park Guesthouse run by the Sri Aurobindo ashram has a beautiful garden facing the ocean.

Meditative statuary in the Park Guesthouse garden.

The Park Guesthouse garden at dawn.

Looking out from the 2nd floor balcony of the Park Guesthouse at dawn.

I really enjoyed this garden; it was such a peaceful place to hang out, relax and contemplate, and really reflected the values of the Shri Aurobindo ashram.

Thankfully I started to feel a bit stronger in the evening and ventured out to try and find some light dinner. On the way I met Monica and Hilde, two art teachers from Oslo, staying down the hall from me. It was good to have some company; we eventually shared several meals together on rooftop cafes during the several days we stayed in this delightful former French colonial capital.

The beach at sunset in Pondicherry.

Pondicherry is a beautiful ocean town situated on the Bay of Bengal. And the guesthouse we stayed in was a great spot--I rose early each morning and from my room balcony could watch the night fade into the first light of day and then the sun appearing pinkly through the dawn's last clouds at the horizon. The oceanside promenade began right outside the guesthouse as well, and I enjoyed many walks looking out over the waves, as the Pondicherry citizenry also assembled to enjoy the ocean and her breezes. The food in the restaurants was great--lots of French food of course, due to the colonial history, and also fresh seafood. It got pretty hot during the day, but being next to the water kept the heat from being oppressive--and the weather in the evenings was so nice--lush, perfectly comfortable ocean air gently washing over and around you every night. The guesthouse also had a beautiful garden on the grounds, with little lotus ponds and statues of the Hindu gods.

The beautiful park called Government Square.

Old stone carving in Government Square.

Government Square: you can sit on a bench here and enjoy the ocean breeze as your relax and soak in the French colonial splendor of Pondicherry.

French colonial landmark in Pondicherry.

This is what you do in Pondicherry: take a seat on the wall along the boardwalk and gaze off to the horizon at the end of the day.

An Indian family enjoying the beach.

Unfortunately my karma with discomfort was continuing. Even as I managed to arrive at an uneasy truce with the bacteria inhabiting my GI tract, I discovered after several nights of tossing and turning, scratching and swatting, that the mattresses in my room hosted a population of bedbugs. I thought all the bites I was getting were just from mosquitoes until I finally captured one of the tiny black dots I thought was just dirt and noticed it moving. This seemed to be unusual bad luck, because the Park Guesthouse is one of the most sought after in town, and not at all a seedy sort of place. And so the Pondicherry bedbugs, along with my intestinal woes and even the self-inflicted blisters on my feet acquired in Tiruvannamalai over the past week served to remind me that traveling in India requires the ability to be patient through discomfort and adversity. That's a quality of character I've wished I had more of in my life anyway, one outcome I hope for from meditation, yoga and spiritual study. India is giving me an opportunity to practice.

Wouldn't you like to take a seat on this bench and look out over the Bay of Bengal in Pondicherry, smelling the ocean in the air and feeling the sea breeze on your face!

While I was in Pondicherry I visited the Sri Aurobindo ashram, where Sri Aurobindo and his principle devotee, a Frenchwoman known as The Mother lie in their samadhi tomb which is visited reverently by hundreds each day (almost half the shops and business in Pondicherry are run by or affiliated with the ashram in some way or another). I strolled through the Pondicherry Botanical Gardens, which contain some huge old trees and a small aquarium (and which is where the zoo in the recently popular novel The Life of Pi was supposed to be located). My last day I rented a bicycle and rode out to Auroville, the idealistic international community founded by The Mother. According to their mission statement, "Auroville wants to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realize human unity." As I've often been quite skeptical about our planet's present socioeconomic arrangements and wondered how we as humanity might someday organize ourselves alternatively to the principle of self-interest, I found it to be a fascinating social experiment. (To really observe Auroville you'd have to live there and participate in the community for at least a week, though; a day visit gives you only a glimpse at what it's really like. And apparently Auroville is still a work in progress, in terms of physical development and its socioeconomic organization.)

The Pondicherry Botanical Garden

The Pondicherry Botanical Garden

Statue in a lush corner of the Pondicherry Botanical Garden.

I rented a bicycle and rode out to Auroville, passing many beautiful groves of tropical coconut palms.

Visiting the utopian community of Auroville. The golden globe is called the Matrimandir, a 100-foot-high elliptical sphere resting on four pillars sunk deep into its foundation. Each pillar represents an aspect of the Divine Mother: Wisdom, Strength, Harmony, Perfection Its inner chamber is meant to be a place for quiet and concentration, void of any ritual, where anyone can sit to meditate in silence.

Some water foliage on the grounds of Auroville.

Looking out at a jetty and the ocean from an open air French restaurant in Pondicherry.

Ah, the life is good in Pondicherry!

I hope that I may see another sunset in Pondicherry before I die.