The Sound of the Tarpha Horn Beckons...

Every holiday celebration or ritual here in the jungle of Nimboli is full of surprise and wonder for us foreigner city folk and last Diwali was just that. We were invited to the village next door, Dadoraipada, to witness their games and competions and inevitably, see a slice of Adivasi or Warli village life that is over 5000 years old. This is the same village life that is seen the famous Warli paintings, such as to the above. Seven ambitious young men of Dadoraipada wanted to inspire their village to celebrate Diwali in a way that would bring out the best of each person. So, they devised many games for both sexes, and all ages. They were emphatic that this what not a party! The implied meaning was that a party involved alcohol.

We were shocked and delighted to be asked to judge the cook off contest for the women. We felt very included in their fun. Lucky for us, the six dishes were very good and obvious examples of local Maharashtran food. We really had no idea what we were eating except to say it was chicken, vegetables or dessert. The judging was quite easy for there was an obvious winner in each class. We didn't know any of the participants, so we were a good choice for their judging.

The young boys played running games and the young girls dancing games. But when all the games were played and the prizes awarded, out came THE HORN, THE TARPHA HORN! Oh My, what a haunting sound. Mesmerizing! Enchanting! Intoxicating!

And then I see my dance partner! She is a village lady about my age who I met last year at a neighbor's wedding reception. We discovered each other on that dance floor and "shook our thing" together--maybe I overstepped what is proper for a foreigner, but I had a fabulous time "letting go" with her. Probably could not have done this even if it was my husband, but that it was with another woman, it seemed acceptable. I did hear a little gossip about it later, but it seemed pretty harmless in the long run.

There we are in the outdoors, surrounded by a whole village of people I don't know. What have I got to lose? I realize I have to seize the moment! My friend is out on the dance floor with all of her friends, wearing the traditional Adivasi saree, wrapped like a tight pants suit. Maybe you have seen the style that the older village women wear. She is happy to see me and I immediately convince her that she has to teach me how to dance and join them in the dancing. She is very enthusiastic about teaching me and off we go into the middle of the dance floor. Amidst hoots and laughs, I find my dancing feet!

Please click on this link to the little video we put together of this magical event. The rhythm of the dancing, the clapping of the dancers, and the sound of the horn will certainly make you want to get up and dance. Come to Nimboli and join us next time!

In this Warli painting you see the Tarpha horn, the lead dancer with the stick that keeps the rhythm, and the sprial of dancers. If you look close, you can see me!

AN ANGEL CAME TODAY

JMH: One of the great gifts of living here at Fire Mountain Retreat Center is being visited by the most wonderful people, living saints, who inhabit this world with us. I never know who will walk through our gates so I am learning to greet everyone with "pani" or water, and "chai" or tea and then, to take the time to sit down and have some conversation and interchange with our guests.

In my busy American life back home, I would have not taken the time to be so gracious at a moment's notice. Instead I would have tried to keep to my "to do list" and visited with people by appointment only. I have discovered that this is not done here in India, and that relationships are much more important than items on my "to do lists".

In India, there is a sentiment that any visitor is God visiting your home. Consequently, to have someone visit your home is the greatest honor. I have to admit it is still taking me time to learn this quality of being a Welcoming Presence to each and every person. But then someone walks in unexpectedly and changes all of that................


DH: AN ANGEL CAME TODAY

She came to our ashram as the sister of a friend. The first unusual thing I noticed about her is that she was a bit troubled by participating in the commonly agreed upon social interacting of guest and host and “normal “ conversation. She was more interested in some other activity. Our friend, her brother, eventually in the stream of conversing, mentioned that she was a very good meditator. She spoke no English and all conversations were translated through her tri-lingual brother. I asked her to come and sit closer so we could discuss this subject of interest to me.

She and her brother misunderstood my verbal statements, and instead of coming to sit in a chair nearer to us, she choose to sit in lotus position on the floor of the veranda. Immediately, she went smoothly, quietly, and blissfully into complete and quietly astounding unification with her Guru/God/Essence/ALL.

We fell into alignment with this darshan, and experienced the most subtle, beautiful, exquisite divine descending of the purest, sweetest, most diving love and ONE Presencing.

Her Guru speaks no words. She, in her darshan, spoke nor thought not. She transmitted the Essence of undivided Essence/ALL.

What a gift!!! We hold awareness of this gift now in our inner treasure house - - it has always been there and will always be here - - a note, a state, a home, an access to GOD-DESS/ALL.

JMH: Her name is Shree Laxmi and she lives in Andrah Pradesh. Her husband died after three years of marriage and then she found her way into an ashram inspired by Ramana Maharshi. Actually, one of the great saint's disciples maintains this ashram who lives in silence and obviously transmits a profound love and peace that is so tangible through this devotee of his. When Dewa asked her to describe her meditation practice, she took a lotus pose and went into a very deep state, opening inner doors for us to join her. This was all on the front porch of Fire Mountain with the usual life happening all around us. I felt my heart opening taking me deeply into the Formless Ocean of All. I am so grateful for this silent and blissful Presence, which is such a gift to us. How she magically appeared in our life is so precious. One thing the Guru had said when we took this positon as Fire Mountain managers, "you will meet the most incredible people." Again and again, he proves to be right.

Winter Perfection at Fire Mountain Retreat

Winter is about perfect in Nimboli/Ganeshpuri: everything is green, the air is cool and easy, the plants are at their peak with color and flowers and fruit. It is magical to see papaya and banana fruit growing abundantly on our own trees. And the taste is divine. It has taken some getting used to the tropical weather. Hot, humid, monsoon. But the winter is the big easy! What a joy! Our friends back home in New Mexico are talking the snow. We are so thankful for merely this bit of coolness in the air.

The red surrounding the Om symbol is actually red leaves, rather like coleus. Flowers aren't the only way to get gorgeous color.

We've taken to collecting hibiscus. They grow easily here in this climate and come in an array of colors: violet, pink, fushia with blood red centers, white, double white, red which we are told that Ganesh must have, double red, yellow, orange, a gorgeous peach-salmon. We have tried growing hybrid roses but the stock plant always wins out. Luckily, the stock is a wild rose that has the most exquisite fragrance, something they make into Gulken, rose jam, which is suppose to be good for you according to Ayurveda. But just the fragrance alone can send you into a sensual ecstasy.

Bouganvillia or Paper flower grows exceedingly well here. Gold, white, varigated purple, magenta. They are not utilized for puja ceremonies but we are happy to have them grow up our walls and display a big spash of color.

We were so excited by our first bunch of bananas on the property. Soon, we found we had five trees producing fruit. The birds have discovered the fruit and we have had to lay claim to them first. We wrap them up in burlap and bring them into the house to ripen.

The fountain next to the Guru's chowk has now been outfitted with a fountain and a Shree Nityananda Education Trust bio sand water filter. The water filter is an attempt to keep the pond water clean and also illustrate how the SNET water filter actually works. Our visitors like seeing one in action. Last week we added some gold fish to the pond. So far they are getting along with the local fish from the river and we aren't finding any floating on the top. Hooray!

Watching the play of the evening light on the landscape can be quite mesmerizing. Last week a visiting meditation teacher remarked at how green and quiet Fire Mountain Retreat is. Since we are off the vehicle roads, there is no road noise. We can hear the temple bells ringing at a distance and sometimes the Brahmins chanting for 4 a.m. abhisheka. (washing of the Nityananda Murti). The soft sounds of the Nimboli village act as a gentle reminder of earthly life but are not distracting from meditation and contemplation. Fire Mountain offers a clean, comfortable and quiet respit from the busy western world and the hectic Indian cities.

Fire Mountain in Nimboli is now offering free shuttle service to and from Ganeshpuri, Guru Siddha Peeth, Vajreshwari, and Alkloli as part of its lodging packages. We've added a "one meal a day" plan for those who want the flexibility to eat in town after aarti at the Bhagawan Nityananda Temple. We are currently developing some "sadhana and seva" programs for visitors to participate in the culture of our local Adivasi neighbors. Please keep informed on these possibilities by readng SNET's website: http://www.shreenityanandaeducationtrust.org/.

Divine Mother Opens the Door

Linda Horan of Los Angeles,California sent us this writing which we include as part of the celebration of NavRatri, the nine nights of the Divine Mother.

It was the Monday after our India retreat last February [2010] and I was milling around the ashram. Everyone had a free day to spend as they wished. Cynthia and Gigi were going to walk to the nearby Durga roadside shrine to say their goodbyes and Cynthia invited me to join. She asked if she should bring a flower to Durga. I said yes. Out came the scissors from her pocket and with one swift cut, she severed the rose from the Fire Mountain rose garden--a perfect, long-stem rose, the first flowering of Jeanette and Davhee’s meticulous loving attention. Uh-oh. Had I just given my encouragement to do that? Oh my.




[The Durga Temple, or Gau Devi Temple
as it is known in Nimboli. On the pathway to the RakHadi Baba Temple ]




Cynthia handed the flower to Gigi and the three of us proceeded along the path. I took a few photos of the children in front of the tiny temple. Then I snapped a shot of Gigi as she was about to offer the rose in front of the shrine door. When it was my turn to offer my prayers, I would, as before, take a photo of Durga through the iron grill.


Then from the direction of the Hanuman Temple came the old priest with the bent back. To my amazement and joy, he proceeded to unlock the door and go inside to do puja. In the years I had visited the Durga shrine, I had never seen it unlocked.






As the priest performed his rituals, Gigi went inside and offered the rose. Then Cynthia. Then me.









It was as if Durga opened her door to receive the Fire Mountain rose. They were inseparable. I took my photos and took my leave.


Happy Navratri.










Blissful in Nimboli, Linda Horan








What is Navratri?

'Nav' means 'nine' and 'ratri' means 'night'. Thus, 'Navratri' means 'nine nights'. There are many legends attached to the conception of Navratri like all Indian festivals. All of them are related to Goddess Shakti (Hindu Mother Goddess) and her various forms. It is one of the most celebrated festivals of Hindu calendar, it holds special significance for Gujratis and Bengalis and one can see it in the zeal and fervor of the people with which they indulge in the festive activities of the season. Dandiya and Garba Rass are the highlights of the festival in Gujarat, while farmer sow seeds and thank the Goddess for her blessings and pray for better yield. In older times, Navratri was associated with the fertility of Mother Earth who feed us as her children.

The first three days of Navratri are dedicated to Goddess Durga (Warrior Goddess) dressed in red and mounted on a lion. Her various incarnations - Kumari, Parvati and Kali - are worshipped during these days. They represent the three different classes of womanhood that include the child, the young girl and the mature woman. Next three days are dedicated to Goddess Lakshmi (Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity), dressed in gold and mounted on an owl and finally, last three are dedicated to Goddess Saraswati (Goddess Of Knowledge), dressed in milky white and mounted on a pure white swan. Sweetmeats are prepared for the celebrations. Children and adults dress up in new bright-colored dresses for the night performances.

In some communities, people undergo rigorous fasts during this season that lasts for the nine days of Navratri. The festival culminates on Mahanavami. On this day, Kanya Puja is performed. Nine young girls representing the nine forms of Goddess Durga are worshiped. Their feet are washed as a mark of respect for the Goddess and then they are offered new clothes as gifts by the worshiper. This ritual is performed in most parts of the country. With commercialization, the festival has moved on to be a social festival rather than merely a religious one. However, nothing dampens the spirit of the devout followers of Goddess Durga, as they sing devotional songs and indulge in the celebrations of Navratri, year by year.

Sharad Navratri: October 8, 2010 to October 17, 2010.
Here is a link for a gorgeous youtube video that Linda sent us the link for:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiq6MddfBM4&feature=channel

Swami Buhravananda-- small body, BIG Presence

Look at him. He’s a small man, a vintage being of 70 years. But he exudes a Big Presence. What Kind? Well, a Big Presence, soft and gentle, like a soft, deep pile blanket of warmth and honesty. . Look into his eyes - - tunnels of depth beyond description with no attempt to hide or cover his internal consciousness - - open. He reaches out to touch you - - places his hand softly on your arm and includes you totally in his consciousness - - you might melt and want to be close to this soft fire - - get warm while you can. He is attended by and flanked by his devotees - - young men who are internally lit by love and devotion to his God devotion. He speaks of the Vedas and how God consciousness is a science explained by the Vedas which are accessible to all - - of how there should be nothing in the way of approach to God - - of how each and every sound and thought are a mantra of power invoking some intent, and how the Vedas are a map of correct intent. If you are like me, it might not matter so much what he says - - what matters might be the truth expression that emanates from his being. He is a devotee of Poorananda who is a devotee of Rakhadi Baba who is a devotee of Nityananda Bhagavan, making him of a cousin lineage to our lineage from Nityananda to Muktananda to our beloved guru Mark Griffin.

How wonderful he has come to Fire Mountain to sit in the garden and have tea and a lovely time with us. The tea is unusual for India - - it is black tea with lichee - - a high and sweet vibration. He is making a pilgrimage to visit the Rakhadi Baba Murti, Homa, and Temple next door, as he does on occasion. Kamalakur Swami, who lives at the Anusuya Ashram that Bhagwan Nityananda built for Rakhadi Baba, relates how Buhravananda Swami does wonderful pujas where he explains the meaning of the different parts of the puja so that everyone can understand what is being done. We, as novice puja practitioners express appreciation for this provision of understanding for the participants. Buhravananda Swami is encouraged to do a puja here at Fire Mountain, and he accedes to this request with a date set after late November some time.

His phone rings and we learn that the car has arrived to take him to his next visitation. Warmth, love and happiness from us follows him out the gate as we watch the orange robed figure disappear down the path. May he come again soon.

Greener Than Green at Fire Mountain Retreat

Morning meditation ends - - the rain is falling again in blankets - - it stopped for 3 days - - long enough for the villagers to celebrate the coming and leaving of Gauri (an aspect of Parvati, Shiva consort/wife, goddess of fertility/harvest/abundance - - the rice crop is coming in nicely so far this year) - - they have been drumming and singing and dancing for 3 days now and our staff has not come during this time. Yesterday they took the murti of her to the river with music and drum beat and dancing and procession. The air is heavy with the oceans gift of bringing itself on shore - - the plants everywhere have jumped out of the ground - - there are crowds of plants everywhere jostling for survival-unfoldment, like pieces in a puzzle, greener than green and luxuriating in the moisture denied them during the dry time. the plants at Fire Mountain Retreat are not all wild native and some are struggling under the downpours and have to be covered with shade netting which disperses the blows of drops falling at terminal velocity from above - - the native plants are all reaching for the sky, almost noisy in their growth - - the frogs jump, the birds chirp, the crows shake off the moisture and hang out on top of the Guru chouk waiting to get the remnants of the left over dog food. Everything slows down and is more viscous, more like when scuba diving in the the ocean - - the roads are a mess of monsoon pot holes, the infrastructures are taxed and somewhat intermittent -- people stay home inside and adjust to the rains - - a time of the interior where the exterior is dampened. The rain has stopped again - - during monsoon it turns on and off like a faucet -- when outside, if a few drops fall, it means in a few seconds/minutes it will fall in sheets, so get to shelter or whip out the umbrella if you want to stay dry. Shortly we will do the morning puja with the staff (if they come) and the arati of the Guru Chouk, the grounds and the dome. Breakfast in the garden enjoying the trees plants and loving complex Spirit. Just a quick note to give a taste of life in Nimboli. love and ocean coming on shore d and j

Ice Cream in the Jungle

Vanita churns out love ......

Everyone wants to be near her.













It ain't Baskin Robbins , Jungle Ice Cream - - tis soooo much better. Deprived of such luxuries for over a year, we all eagerly awaited some cool licks. Vanita (our beloved cook-and-everything person) spun that ice cream machine handle for hours to no avail - - in this heat, we never got off the launch pad.

We tried for three days to get the first successful batch, and even with the help of the baby, and bhiwani the dog and raja the puppy (see pic), it was cool soup, no dice, no ice - - - - but wait! Jeanetta figured out how to pre-cool the precious ambrosia and bingo, Vanita whipped up the tasssttieeesssst treat - -

Snicker Doodle ice cream - - a divine yummmm in the tummmm, with the enjoyment much heightened by the wait. Yeah Ice Cream Team!!

Important to the superb quality is our new milk Lady, (about whom we will write soon - - don't miss her pics - - she's a 1 of kind village milk matron) - - and her cows, which we've yet to meet, put out the creamiest milk ever to slide over your tongue. I guess Indian cows, being divine, naturally produce divine Self Idealized dairy.

This slick new ice cream making machine is the generous gift of generous Lee Schwing, who is not unfamiliar with such luxuries and the difficulty of producing them in rural India. Blessings to/for Lee!

??????., guess what's the plan for the next batch?

Well - - Jeanetta was strangely hankering for a childhood favorite - - candy cane ice cream without any expectation of evvveeerrr getting it here, when - - voila! - - hardlight loved ones showed up with the candy canes and the ice cream maker!! If that ain't a miracle!! So if candy cane ice cream can show up in the jungle, any wish can be granted - - caution. Of course we don't ever desire anything here.

To be sure, the next time you are here at Fire Mountain we will make your favorite - - bring your beloved flavor goodie - - we got the cream, we got the jungle, we got a shady garden in which to enjoy - - we got a handle for you to turn, we got the above pictured team to help..

Love in 108 flavors dewa and jeanetta

The Dude-Wali: The Milk Lady

You would think her nose would be much longer, given she’s wearing that big heavy decorative ornament pierced through her nose. It’s about all you can see for the first few moments you meet her, followed quickly by the impact of her size and earthy grounded energies. I hope your mind has better controls than this one - - questions and visions arose first about eating. How can she get anything to past that thing? One look and it’s obvious she not starving, but what, cut things thin and kind of angle them in? Hold it up with one hand? Upside down eating? And, well, kissing? Would she or he lift the thing to advantage? Oh no, mercy, this mind imagined a rope tether through that thing- - oh stop this mind please. Just look at her, I don't think she is one of those tether to a tree women. Ok, mind under control, back to composure.













A milk cow matron should have some bovine qualities, and she does in spades. Cows, in India, have a relaxed ease and are often beautiful in their aura presence. She, we don’t know her name yet, has this massive, earthy and relaxed, creamy ease - - happy in her selfhood, and engaging with her easy smile. She's the cream on top.







Style-conscious? A milk lady style-conscious? Yes, she is - - each day wearing a beautiful sari combination of colorful flowing fabrics. But the ring thing in her nose really carries the day no matter what she wears. Ladies, check it out, - - it doesn’t matter about your hair or nails, or how you tip the scales - - the ring thing is all they’ll see. Shall I ask her where she got it and how much it costs, styles available and skin tone colors? I didn’t ask her about sizes. One size fits all, or can we super size for spectacular attraction and enforced weight loss? if you happen to be one of those out of control kisser, this device might just be "the ticket." We found out today from Swami Kamalakur that this huge style ring was common in the past as a special ornament for Maharashtra women. It is definitely attractive.


A short digression about our previous milkman who wore no ornament – just a smile to make Mona Lisa jealous and here’s why - - we read the smile wrong. He was discharged for watering down the milk and mixing buffalo milk with the more desirable cow’s milk to achieve monetary advantage. We thought he was an evolved and principled being, who fairly floated into our compound each day, with beautiful smile and lovely presence. We looked forward to our meeting each day, just to receive his cool-breeze darshan. Boy were we ever shocked to discover that he diluted the milk! Our perceived Milk Saint has feet of clay and swindling mind plastered over by the biggest smile. Sunil, not as naive as we newbies, discovered this by keeping a glass of milk on the shelf overnight to see how much water came to the top when the milk settled. Guess what?!! A lot - - almost half the glass. When confronted, he said - - oh no, never again - - ok, I won’t do that. Guess what? Again we caught him. Out the door and down the drain with that guy. We have found that it is pretty common for people to water down beverages or grains or whatever, with a filler to increase profits, and people actually expect it. Hmmm. The bottom line wins out over integrity again.

So, we asked our new lady from the very start if she diluted the milk, and of course she said “no.” We told her that we wanted the whole cow, not just half the cow. We have tested her. There is no water at the top in the morning, we got the whole cow. In addition, WOW is her milk divine. Creamy and balanced and wholesome, like her. We weren’t getting the real thing with the other guy. Never thought I’d be tasting milk like a fine wine - - savoring its nuances and rolling it around on my tongue - - eking out the variety of flavors and qualities present. Hmmm, apricot, lilac, overtones of bergamot, alfalfa and a long smooth green grass finish..... And the yogurt - - best just straight up with no kicker. Cows here are divine, you know, and it flows on through as udderly delicious.

We want to meet her cows and see her with them. The last guy, Mr. Smiley Face-Deceitful-Mind, when we went to meet him at his house, showed us his buffalo, and when we asked to see the cows he gestured “out there some where” with some Marathi Language we didn’t understand. From now on, “out there some where" ain’t good enough. We have to see “cow on the hoof.” From our experience so far with this very pleasant new milk lady, we expect a very nice family of cows with lots of social harmony and cowzie ease. But who knows - - as you can see, we are easily duped. We’ll take a peek and show you a slice of her home and cow life. Well, bottoms up - - as they say when drinking a great beverage. Things go better with Jungle Milk - - It’s the real thing.

31 Flavors Sadhu - - Genuine? Leading edge style setter?

There he was standing outside the gate at Fire Mountain Ashram with the big raspberry bag stretched between him and his little assistant. He looked a lot like a nomadic herdsman who had just raided a clothing store, and both curiosity and red flags flew up in this mind as we approached him. Our crew had called us to the gate and explained that he was on his way to Shirdi Sai Baba, and it was customary to give him some rice and perhaps a few treats to sustain him on his spiritual journey.




Well, Jeanetta, queen of helping the needy and everyone in general, jumped into the opportunity to help a “holy man” and quickly returned with some rice and goodies for his long trip. Don’t we love her generosity!



Upon offering the sustenance, the sadhu with amused smile and somewhat impatient air, stuck his hand in the raspberry bag and pulled out a fist full of rupee notes. Oh, I see - - its modern times and rice is just peanuts now to a new age sadhu. I didn’t get to see how much loot he had in the raspberry bag. I hope it was full and he either was off to really receive an enlightening darshan from Sai Baba in style or off to Goa to have a really good time. Darn it - - I forgot to get his email. Either way, he was a good show and you see Jeanetta giving him some rupees. You will want to remember big raspberry bags if the recession gets much worse. FYI: apparently rice is not “just peanuts” cause he accepted the rice and goodies after the rupee offering was “in the bag.”


Check out the eyes of the little guy - - abused, enslaved accomplice or returning tulku? Son of renunciate or what? Hmmmmm.




India has its many moments of wonder.....










Please check him out and let me know what you think. Should we bow and say "Namaste" or as they said on The Apprentice, "You’re fired"?

Scroll down and post a comment!!

What Women Can Do

What I have heard since arriving in India is "women can't do this, can't do that." That is pretty hard to take since I was instructed about Feminism at 21 years old by my mother-in-law, Gerry Monosoff, who was very active in breaking new ground for women in the 60's. American women would not be where they are today if it was not for women like Gerry standing up to those men who were telling women who, what and how they could be.

Here is Cuckoo (Vanita II) balancing grass that she has cut on the river bank as she climbs up our spiral staircase.

So, I do get all riled up when I hear things like "women can't do this, they can't do that." Like today, the men needed some help putting up some bamboo strips to make a shade arbor. "Women can't do that, they aren't strong enough."

Here is Vanita up there on the dome adjusting the curtain skirt next to the men.

"Excuse me. Weren't those women who were digging up those heavy rocks and moving them on their heads? And weren't those women digging up cement, digging up a leach field, digging up a compost pile? Moving rocks the size of a small child. Excuse me! Those women are strong and able and willing. So don't tell me they can't hold up a little piece of bamboo for a few minutes in the air while you men twist a little piece of wire around the bamboo."

I let those men know I could not agree with their decision not to let the women help them. I rattled off my upset even though I knew they would not understand a word I said. But I think they got my drift. Then, one of my colleagues told me the real reason why they didn't want women helping them. They didn't know how to talk to women. Men can't talk to women. Men have their own talk and women have theirs. Oh, Gerry, we have a long ways to go here in India.

Women Painting, OMG:

I feel I broke new ground today, when Vanita, my cook, said she wants to learn to paint. Oh my Goodness. "Women don't paint." But she has seen me mixing colors and painting walls, trim, whatever. And enjoying getting paint all over me in the process. And now she wants to paint. She was a little timid at first, but I said it was like putting on cake frosting. This is the same woman I am teaching to bake. Remember my Marathi is very limited, so I have to think of ways to explain things in words that I know. Anyway, she got the picture. "Ami soy-pak color." "We are cooking up paint." We both laughed and I loved seeing her try something new and breaking through those limited ideas of what she as a woman can and can't do. She got so inspired, she painted our kitchen. At first she had me mix the colors, but I had her make suggestions so that she could see how one figures out how to match colors. Before I knew it she took that paint and painted the entire kitchen with new paint. We were cooking paint today.

Jeera Biscuits (Cumin Pastries)

I am remembering last year when Dewa and I arrived in Nimboli and we were wondering how we would make food at Fire Mountain after the groups left and we were on our own with our cook, Vanita, who spoke no English, and we spoke no Marathi. How would we be able to buy food at the market ourselves. I guess we just cooked for ourselves those first few months, and bought food ourselves in Ganeshpuri and in Vasai, pointing to the things we wanted and allowing the vendors to take the money out of our hands appropriate to what they were asking.

Here I am with Vanita in the Fire Mountain Kithcen. ( I am always having a "bad hair day" so I have taken to wearing a scarf. "Look Ma, no hair!")

I began to study Indian food and vegetarian cooking, but sincerely wondered how we would get the nutrition we needed from only vegetables. I began to realize that the predominance of Indians are vegetarian. And the ones in our village are looking very trim and healthy.

Since we came back from our Ayurvedic treatment in Shivpuri last August, we began to embrace Indian food more easily. (See their website: http://www.healthayurveda.com/ and read Dewa's blog post titled "Akkalkot Adventures on October 18, 2009).

In fact, I started to really understand the power of eating mung beans and learned some interesting ways to cook mung, as well. Once I knew this, I could begin to ask Vanita to make these things, too.

Sunil was kind enough to let us borrow his oven, which his wife rarely used. So over the past few months I have baked a few Ayurvedic cakes and at Christmas time made some of my family's favorite Christmas cookies. Vanita told Sunil she wanted to learn to bake. So today I decided to bake Jeera biscuits with her, which is a little cookie without any sugar and flavored with cumin seeds. Really quite nice with the traditional Indian chai (tea with milk). Our Marathi teacher, Gita introduced us to Jeera biscuits, along with many other delicious Indian foods. She is an excellent cook and fortunately for me, can describe to me in English what ingredients she uses and how she combines them. Twice now, she has spent the day here at FM teaching me about four recipes all at once. What a whirl wind those events were.

Back to the Jeera biscuits: When baking with Vanita, I knew I was going to have to translate the recipe from English to Marathi. We could use the pointing out method. No problem. But I had not realized that we would then have to figure out how to write it in Marathi. Unfortunately, Vanita has had little schooling, and isn't fluent in writing Marathi. Dewa believes she is the type of student to be in the back of the classroom enjoying jokes with the little rascals. She is that kind of delightful. Dewa and I have spent five months learning the Marathi alphabet, which has 56 letters, and 412 conjugations. A little bit more complicated than English. Our learning has been slow. Fun at times when we are on the road and trying to figure out an advertisement, or a restaurant and trying to read a Marathi only menu.




Today we had to enlist some of the other workers to help us write the Marathi words. Since she said she wanted to learn to bake, I wanted her to have some record of how we bake the different items I envision us making in the future. So together, with my five Marathi primers spread out behind the cooking ingredients, we figured out how to write the Marathi word for each ingredient. We each wrote out our recipe in Marathi.
My Marathi teacher, Gita, will be proud of me. She has taught us well over the past five months, although we were not such good students, at times. Here is Gita's photo. You can see why we had a good time with her learning Marathi.













As Vanita and I actually made the recipe I had her refer back to her copy of the recipe so that she would read her own writing. What might have been a little cooking class turned out to include a mutual Marathi lesson: She taught me the Marathi words for ingredients, and then together we learned how to write it.

I can imagine that Vanita had to go to work early in life and didn't have time to study in school, which is how it is for most village women. Also, most women don't have access to bathrooms when they go to school, and so they eventually give up on school after being uncomfortable from either from "holding it" or walking into the woods to "do their business." This is a big problem all over rural India.

But here, under the auspices of Nityanandsa Education Trust, we are enjoying the companionship of one another and learning together. I imagine that this is what SNET is about: empowering women, one at a time if need be, to evolve, be more. What a sweet time we had.

Oh by the way, the Jeera Biscuits were tasty too. The recipe follows.

















Jeera Biscuits

Sift together:

1 cup all purpose flour. (next time I will use Nachini or chia seed flour)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder


In separate bowl, mix:
1/3 cup ghee
2-4 tsp buttermilk or yogurt thinned out
1/2 tsp sugar

Grind small:
5-6 curry leaves
1-2 fresh green chili

Mix all the above together slowly.
Add
1 tsp jeera or cumin seeds
Make a soft dough that you can be rolled into balls.
Arrange on greased cookie sheet.
Using fork, flatten like a peanut butter cookie leaving fork
prong marks, or not.

Bake 350 deg. F for 15 mins.

Santa-Ananda Finds Nimboli

Santa-Ananda found his way to Nimboli today. Most people in attendance at the annual Christmas party had no idea how lucky we were to have this red suited jolly man actually find Fire Mountain Retreat's address in rural India. As you can see in the photo, Santananda and Mrs. Claus were having a good time singing us a few Western style Christmas carols. (Mrs. Claus let us all know she prefers Mrs to Ms. since she is an old fashion type of girl!) The local English and Marathi teacher, Gita Lotanker, even joined in the singing, since she had learned Christmas songs as a child attending convent schools. Most of the children were not impressed by the Claus' singing but the adults in the audience were amused and entertained by their antics.










Sunil Anaokar is holding son of Ananda, our neighbor and Fire Mountain staff employee, while two other happy flower children look on.


Kazi brought us the flower face masks and hats from Thane. They were too cute!!!






Not turkey, cranberry sauce, sage nor rosemeary were anywhere to be found within hours of Nimboli. So, Christmas dinner was a Fusion Style dinner, as they say in the food industry, a blend of two cultures. A delicious Chicken Curry was made by Sunil. Jeanetta believes no Christmas dinner is complete without mashed potatoes and turkey stuffing even if there was no turkey. She had to improvise with the recipe substituting local Curry leaves for sage. She has become quite fond of Curry leaves since her move to India and believes curry leaves was an improvement on the original recipe. Probably no one in the crowd knew what stuffing was, but she was not worried. She hoped that there might be leftovers, since stuffing is a family favorite for her. Kazi said he went back for seconds after figuring out he liked it. Vanita made her wonderful cabbage, carrot, coconut vegetable dish.

Kazi after discovering he likes stuffing!

Unexpectedly, many more people came then anticipated, but there was more than enough food for everyone. Jeanetta has no experience in cooking dal for 35 people and had cooked enough for probably double that number. Food never goes to waste as the staff were happy to take home leftovers. Sunil expertly handled the dispersion of food and candy to the 30 children who descended upon the party from neighboring houses.

Cooking vegetarian cookies and cakes without eggs is always a challenge since most recipes require eggs. But when Jeanetta and Dewa attended the Ayurvedic clinic at Shivpuri last summer, she learned some recipes for both. Fortuantely, some of the classic favorites such as Russian Tea cakes and Shortbread have no eggs and the basic recipe can easily be adapted to local ingredients, such as cow's ghee. Her mother, Muriel Manning, used to tell her that when you use good ingredients, you will make good food. And making cookies and cakes with cow's ghee is a winner.

Gita said her favorite was butterscotch cake. Now, Jeanetta is a card carrying chocolate lover. She does not even know how to spell butterscotch let alone know how to make the butterscotch flavor. But fortunately the internet occasionally works in Nimboli, and she could download a few recipes. The cake turned out to be a Butterscotch Pudding cake which is a much better error than a dried out cardboard type of cake. You bakers out there must know what this means. The speed of which the cake disappeared from the table tells us that it was a success.
Presents were stacked on the dinner table after dinner for the children to see. All of the staff's children were told to pick one. Fortunately, when one little girl received a toy truck she found an equally bewildered and disappointed boy holding a see through sack containing a pink plastic tea set. The exchange happened before any explanation crossed an adult's lips.

The adults were made to engage in a pink elephant kind of exchange. Everyone picked a number. As the numbers were read out, the person with the number could pick a new unwrapped present, or "steal" one from someone who had already opened a present. The person losing their present then had permission to "steal" someone else's present or pick a new one. There were lots of screams and laughter, especially as one young women was "not going to allow anyone to steal her present" and she didn't. What fun!!! What laughter!!!

Even Mrs. Claus was happy to be holding her present after it was "stolen" from her three times.

Santa and Mrs. Claus slipped away into the dark of night when no one was looking. We hope they come back again next year.

GODDESS JUMPS OUT OF THE GROUND

GODDESS JUMPS OUT OF THE GROUND, WET GREEN AND VIRILE

The rains have come and the Goddess has jumped out of the ground with leaves and bushes and grass everywhere - - from dry and dusty to wet and unabashedly naked green everywhere. Suddenly the river is full again and there are rice paddies full of water promising the coming harvest of the staple of Asia. The night time, previously so quiet, is now a surround sound of chirping and throaty frog calls of various patterns and styles. Holes in the ground have appeared everywhere and we are told that the dormant frogs and crabs are coming out at night to feed and be captured by the local people who wander through the landscape, flashlights in hand, eager to catch a bunch. I could never get over a mental aversion to eating frog legs. Have you tried them? Like them? Rhoidas, our handyman and gardener says they are yummy, and crabs are the best. He and his friend bagged 200 crabs a couple of nights ago, so obviously they are here in numbers even though they are never seen during the dry periods. It continues to be rather shocking to look out and see the very intense green blanket of vegetation everywhere there was only dry grass stubble a few weeks ago.
TWO MONTHS LATER: The monsoon is essentially over now and the wetness of the ground is being baked out of the soil producing an exceedingly humid climate. The river is still high, but receding each day. Everywhere you look it is still green and lush, but the greenness is a little tattered around the edges and it is clear, the dry period will return within a month. Monsoon was so welcome. The green jungle growth and rice fields have been so enjoyable. Mount Mondagni has been swathed in a beautiful green sari of earth colors and most often she is cloaked with some misty clouds creating some mystery and intrigue. We counted 11 waterfalls coming off her flank in our view just the other day during a monsoon rain. A great variety of new natural wild edibles and non edibles have sprung up and we have learned a good deal about the vegetation here. Now we will attempt to keep our gardens alive and productive during the dry period using drip irrigation from our well and shade cloth to temper the sun overabundant gifts. Tune in later for more updates on acclimating to India.

NIMBOLI - START OF MONSOON TIME

The brick makers have stopped production due to the monsoon, and the air is very clear, and it is very quiet here. The grounds at FM are green and lush especially compared to the dry rice paddy fields all around us. The locals have built up the dikes which keep the paddy fields intact to hold the water. There has been such a pregnant waiting here for monsoon time - - the trees, the grass, the flowers, the animals, the people - - everything was on the edge of almost monsoon. We are blessed at FM having so much water available - - so much greenery surrounding us. We are witnessing a lot of activity of planting the rice fields and vegetable fields now that the rains have arrived.
The monsoon season was already underway in Thailand, and we were blessed by frequent rains and cooler temperatures. We bought boots. Jenatta found some very pretty deep-sky blue ones and i had to settled for puke green - - size thirteen feet are not considered to be amenable to fashion , but hey, dry mudless feet in monsoon time really counts i’m told and there are also all the critters which come out during water time. Speaking of critters, a crab just showed up in the pond at FM and i’m told that many appear out of the ground during the rains. A tasty boon to crab meat lovers and a good reason to buy boots ahead of time.
Prior to monsoon, the cows roamed freely in the surrounding land helping to clear the fields of all rice stubble and weeds. They mowed the ground quite clean, and our green little plot was very inviting to them. Every day it was a contest to see if we could keep the cows from eating the shrubs and papaya , and coco trees and flowers. We lost of few of our shrubs and trees, mostly banana trees.
The curtains and the plastic skirt over the vertical support members have been removed from the dome and put in storage. We will soon plant more vegetables for clean organic food.
Here are a few of our new project ideas:
Dome: install a metal sloped roof beginning at the bottom of the dome and projecting out over the circular walkway to provide shade, weatherproofing to the dome and walkway, and add some more privacy, since when meditating in the dome you feel a bit like “served up on a platter for all to see” - - not that our attention is susceptible to distraction (ha ha), but a degree of some openness and privacy would be more comfortable. Vines like Bougainvillea could climb up the support to create even more beauty and privacy.
Inside Meditation Room: we have made an indoor meditation room downstairs for those times when meditating in the dome is not feasible. This room is air conditioned and is a cool place to converse with people about HL and to meditate. We have recordings of Mark’s talks and meditations available to play on a sound system. This room is painted in high quality paints as a backdrop for our photos of our beloved Gurus, Babas, and Goddesses. The God wall is a rich, silky, true gold with a beautiful luster on which is hung the Guru Lineage Photos and friends of Lineage. Opposite this wall is the Goddess wall, painted in a gorgeous raspberry magenta, and which has a big White Tara Thanka and will have pictures of adra kali, Durga, Quan Yin, Shakti, Bhirwandi, and others. The inbetween wall, of deep royal blue hue, will show our photos of Shiva­-Shakti Union, Krishna –Radha, and other exemplary complementary couples. We have purchased some nice materials to use for pillows and padding. This room already has quite a Presence.
The Front Porch: The front porch and the garden area under the trees is the natural area for relaxing out of doors and social meetings with visitors. The porch is exposed every morning to direct sunlight and winds up being hot and uncomfortable. We envision an awning system which will keep the sun and rain off of the porch. Also, some long narrow tables skirting the edge of the porch allowing one to sit for tea or meals and be focused on the beauty of the landscape and the mountain.
The roof: we have sealed the parapets of the building with a flexible UV resistant roofing paint to prevent the leaks that have occurred there.
Employment for locals: we got some possible great ideas for local handicrafts in Thailand, and will explore this further and let you know more about this as it develops.
The atmosphere at Nimboli is very clear and clean and powerful, and we are looking forward to the plantings we can do, during monsoon and the further establishment of retreat type scheduling and implementing some of the creative ideas we got in T-land - - more on that later.

BREAKFAST IN NIMBOLI

Breakfast in Nimboli

It is mid morning, a little past time for nastah (breakfast) - - Vanita, our female distaff worker is not here today, so Jeanetta has prepared some wonderful mung pancakes served with a delightful chutney, banana slices, ghee, and the ever present chai. We insist that Rhoidas and Ananda ( our grounds maintenance men) come and eat with us. At first they would not eat with us, due to the segregated caste system, but now they are relaxed and we honor and love each other. Today we honoured our Indi-American family with raised clacking-together-spoons raised on high and exclaimations of joy and happiness and gratitude and Happy Diwali. These Adavasi people are precious and important friends of ours who connect us to the cultures and the earth-nature elements here. We are living in/on their “turf.” We need and enjoy their friendship and contributions to our lives.
As we sit to enjoy breakfast, Mohan, the milkman arrives, and after a short period of entreaty, he accepts our invitation to sit and break-fast with us. As i wrote earlier, he is tall, thin, very dark with most often a big pearly white smile and a peaceful cow-milk-moon radiance which generously blesses all. We talk about his life and how he gets up at three o’clock to milk the cows and only gets two hours of sleep at night because he stays awake to burn the dope (cow dung incense) to keep the mosquitos from biting the cows. The cows are part of his family with names of the devis, like Saraswati, Laxmi, Durga, etc.. We laugh and joke and enjoy images of him calling the “girls” by name and gesture with milking motions. The men begin to talk tomorrow about the annual bull fight at the next village over - -about the pageantry of decorating the bulls and the festive celebration of bullhood. At first i recoil from this suggestion, but now think it will be a good yoga for me to go and practice non attachment and learn more about the locals here. The milkman invites us to his home. When he comes tomorrow morning, we will go to his home a see his wife-children-cow family and participate in the annual devotional cow arati blessing. Before this we will go to Ananda’s home and participate is his annual cow arati devotional ceremony. Ananda’s two cows live inside his house with the family. They are beautiful beings and i am looking forward to breaking through all my previous conditioning about cows being unclean or lesser.
It is easy to find simple things to laugh about here with them- - they are not educated into pretentious distinction, and are quick to laugh or anger or ?? We learned so much about their earth wisdom as they guided us up Mondagni Mountain, teaching us about climbing difficult terrain, about the vegetation, edible and not, about the animals, and about natural immersion in the elements. Another example: yesterday i brought my new cockatiel birds into an empty room, removed the roof of the cage and released the birds to fly for exercise. Ananda wanted to see them. As we entered the empty room, our voices echoing in the big emptiness, i cautioned him that they might bite as the female had done to me a few days ago. Ananda earnestly looked at me as a wise man would to a novice and softly, emphatically voiced, no Dewa, no Dewa, after which he approached the birds, which i had coaxed onto a stick to avoid being bitten, with relaxed seamless oneness, magnetically presenting his outstretched slowly, gently approaching hand to the pair. The male, Krishna, stepped onto his hand and as a little separation occurred between them, they began to chirp-squak to each other as they do when separation happens, and shortly the female, Rhada, flew to join her mate. I, the recently bitten one, stood dumbfounded but delighted by Ananda’s natural ease with “my” pet birds. Ananda recounted how he gets the birds in the mountains to land on his hands and walk up to his shoulders. He gently moved his face to caress them with his cheeks and lips. I, the student in this “pointing out” darshan of Ananda the bird-nature Guru, proceeded to replicate this experience with a good deal of success. Indeed, the Guru is the way to achieve that which seemed impossible.
The breakfast has gone well, we laugh about “enough of this enjoyment, let’s get to work! Cam kara, cam kara). Nastah is over and we all go back to our pursuits with the joy of human love and compassion filling our beings. The day is beautiful, sunny, not yet too hot. Bliss in Nimboli – bliss in the Guru - - bliss, bliss, bliss.

WE CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF MOUNT MONDAGNI

WE CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF MOUNT MONDAGNI

We climbed to the top of Mount Mondagni. These words inadequately describe the power and beauty of this experience, but please allow me to embellish a bit. We started at around 8 AM and walked through two villages on the way to the mountain. The local villagers live in brick and mud and stick houses with yards frequented by chickens, cows, water buffalo, and bicycles, sometimes a motorcycle, and occasionally a satellite television. Cows are so venerated that they sometimes live inside with the family. They get electricity by hoisting little wires with hooked ends up onto the high voltage overhead lines at night with bamboo poles. They wait till night to avoid being caught by the electric company. They are curious about us and ask our guides about us - - we wave and say namaskar or hello, or how are you (tu me kah sai ahay), and they most often immediately change from wary suspicion to big ear to ear smiles.





Jeanetta and i both had back packs with way too much stuff for such a climb (which our guides carried for us), however some of it came in very useful, especially the flashlight after dark, as we wadded through the rice paddies and jungle outgrowth in the dark to get back to Fire Mountain Retreat Center. The trip, presented as a 4 hour excursion by our guides, actually took 11 hours. They could have done 2 – 3 trips probably in this amount of time, but with western slow poke softies and their desire to show us all the high points it took double the time. Our guides and playmates were four young local men, three of which work for us - - Rhoidas, who is brainy, lithe, sings and chatters like a tropical bird, and who is nearly fluent in English and Ananda, who is the salt of the earth and who works tirelessly to serve his family and anyone in sight with strength and pure fiery heart and independence of spirit that keeps him pure of stain. Ananda virtually at times pulled us up the mountain in difficult places with the same determination and vocal calling as he uses when he relentlessly urges the oxen onward during the ploughing of his rice fields - - come, come Jeanetta, -- come, come, Dewa! Up over rocks and shale and slippery grass and mud from the rains, they, young men that they are, scampered up the mountain side, greatly delayed by our western lack of experience and conditioning, but having great patience, - - they sang and laughed and joked and carried on a lively animated chatter like jungle birds and animals.





We walked through thick jungle forest and encountered native peoples cutting wood with large self made saws, women gathering jungle plants, large bundles of firewood, and sacks of the ubiquitous land crabs that scurry around as you walk. We saw no large animals, only a monkey and the birds, but listened to the story of the tiger that came down to eat a villager’s goat last week. We were told that if there is only one person in the jungle the tiger may come close, too close, but with two or three people making noise, the tiger stays away. A quick mental tally showed we were safe.



At the start of the climb they took us to a small earthen, tribal temple at the base of the mountain. Kalpa Devi Temple has an earthen floor slightly elevated from the surrounding stream bank, with earth and rock architecture and thatched roof. At the focus is a Shiva Lingam and a vertical wood slab with pointed apex inscribed with white and red painted symbols and language which, since we can’t fully read yet, we assumed was Marathi language. We paid our respects to the Goddess of the Mountain and received her darshan before the assent. She in so many ways epitomizes the Consciousness of the local people in her earthy groundedness and obvious earth-magic capacities/siddhis. With her presence and support we began the climb with confidence and happiness.



Although the men originally told us it would take 1 ½ hours to gain the summit, guess what - - 5 hours to reach the third and highest apex. Many stories could be told of the climb and how we were mothered and fathered along the way by these men of 19 to 27 years (they are called boys here - - i wonder how old you have to be to be called a man?). Boys or not, they were so patient and loving in their understanding and assistance of the “uncle and auntie” (the terms they use when you are old, but not yet ancient in their eyes) “foreigners” they accepted responsibility for.



Listening to the rapid beating of my heart, i prayed for the strength to complete the climb - - i implored and happily accepted the assistance of Shakti and Shiva to fashion the strength necessary to make the climb. The natural forces so available here responded with a grace and power harmonious with the eco-system we were immersed in. At a particularly comfortable meadow with small stream issuing from a spring, we stopped and sat by the stream spreading out a variety of foods we brought for jewaila (lunch or dinner). We had grabbed fruit and nuts and granola, and they brought rice chapattis, wheat chapattis, an egg curry, cucumber, and a potato vegetable combo. Whoever has taken an arduous hike knows how delicious a simple meal by bubbling brook can be. My tired feet placed in the little stream signed with relief as the grounding forces of Nature/water drew the vexation out. I took a short little nap as they made a little covered bed for me and awoke with cries of chelo, chelo (let’s go, let’s go). On the way we were tutored in which plants were edible, which ones tasted terrible, and which were owshudt (ayurvedic medicine).



I can only hint at how beautiful this mountain is at the end of Monsoon with the jungle plants in mature development and the joyful song of plants, after months of arid suffering, having abundant water to jump out of dormancy into full bloom. But of particular amazement is the energy-spirit presence of the Divine structure of this mountain. Oh of course, everywhere in India, the spirit has saturated every rock and nook and cranny, but this mountain is none the less special above other locals in that it grounds the pillar of the Siddha Lineage, - - and for me especially the presence of Lord Parashuram, whose very heart, and love of beauty and the Divinity of the Earth Voyage, pervades Mt. Mondagni. Gaining the summit i chanted a Parashuram mantra and keep Guru Mark with/in/as me and am blessed beyond description by the transit of this brief period. My eyes water with happiness and gratitude for this darshan, and i awoke with this morning with happily exercised legs and a song in my heart bigger than the sky.



At the top we could see everywhere around - - all the villages we had heard of and visited - - the lakes and streams, the other mountains, the lush green valleys with rice paddies and wooded hillsides - - the Fire Mountain dome in the very far distance - - steamy vapour fogs rising from the wet earth - - the inner symphony of India, land of complexity and diversity of spirit drenching the earth and stretching far beyond vision into the past with determined bloom yet to come. My energy structure thrills as i write this about India’s future gifts to come - - i bow with respect and love to a land which i must have called home many times before.



Coming down a mountain side is always worse than the climb in terms of stress and bodily danger. We carefully picked step after step in many places along tiny ravines carved by tumbling monsoon water - - wet and muddy and providing just enough grip to control descent, assisted also by our young companions graciously helping, from their point of view, the elder westerners who undoubtedly seem so lacking in jungle-smarts. Back at Fire Mountain, they are our workers - - here on the mountain, they are our Gurus. Our very lives have been in their loving hands.



Speaking of that, on the way down, we were taken unbeknownst to us at the time, to the cave in which the local hero woman called Mataji sat for 45 days and still frequents this cave of great horizontal run and low head height. To get there we had to negotiate two huge wet, slippery, slimy nearly vertical black obsidian like rocks surfaces with scant purchase to support our weight. We with big shoes, little skill, and considerable deserved terror, and they with bare feet or flip flops, little feet, and cat like comfort managed to get safely across. i vowed i would never do that again, only to find out after the cave visit that we had to return the same way. They did hold our feet as we went across, but my judgement is that they were probably no match for our body weights.



We arrived at the cave and deep into the interior we peered failing the attempt to find an end. The cave, obviously man made running deep into the mountain with little head room and apparently having some larger spaces in the distance will remain a mystery at least at this time. Wading through the nearly knee deep water for a short distance, as the ceiling lowered we quickly lost desire to explore the depths of the cave on this trip - - maybe later, maybe. I pondered what a 45 day meditation would be like in a cave like this. Hmmmm. Attention turned to a low outcropping on the left completed by rock and cement construction upon which is a murti of Bhagwan Nityananda, incense and other articles of Spirit communion. Jeanetta lit the incense, we took darshan as we left. As we exited the cave which must have been a mine of some sort, the men scampered up a ledge over the opening to have their pictures taken. They cajoled us to climb up also - - we demurred, as we had had enough of climbing along smooth, slippery, wet rocks tempting the wheel of time which we have traversed much more than them.



Once we had cleared the return trip over the wet obsidian slide to death patch, i vowed again with greater fervour to never make this journey again. Hmmm. I would like to explore the cave more fully. Perhaps there is an easier access. Hmmm.



After the cave and a last look from the top plateaus, we began the descent which was at times again very steep and uneven. We were given carved poles with pointed ends to project ahead of us to brace against gravity, and many helping hands in tricky places. “Our” Ananda, diminutive in size, was amazingly rock solid on the slopes and carried the weight of my slips and wobbles with aplomb. At times if felt overly grandfathered and mostly felt grateful and full of admiration for such ability on his part. If i was Bilbo, i would certainly choose Ananda to help me deliver the ring.



Occasionally we stopped our descent of the mountain to view the beautiful expanses of lush green countryside. This same terrain is dry and arid much of the year, so it was double delight to see it at the end of monsoon. In another month or two they say it will be dry and brown again, and later they will burn the mountain day after day to clear it of vegetation which used to bother me as i thought it must damage it greatly. However, one would never guess that the whole mountain had been burned six months ago. My legs were so tired at this point that i would hazily wonder if on the next step they would crumble beneath me - - my feet ached, my toes hurt from being jammed against the tip of my shoes as we descended the slopes. I dreamed of home and hearth and slumber and finally we reached the jungle floor, after which it took a long time to reach the clearings near Nimboli. Jeanetta, to our surprise and delight, produced some chocolate bars as we sat for a rest along a beautiful little stream in the rice paddies (dark chocolate sent from the California Sangha). We devoured the chocolate with gusto and made kwips about chocolate and desire and desirelessness and licked the plastic wrappers till the last speck of melted chocolate was gone. Jeanetta admonished the “boys” for throwing the wrappers on the ground - - they had little understanding of why they should pick them up again and at least one refused at first to do so, but succumbed to Jeanetta’s insistent demand that they should not pollute the environment. I am quite sure they did not understand, and probably had thoughts of crazy westerners carrying home useless candy wrappers. India has a long way to go to achieve eco friendly plastic/trash behaviours.



Passing the tall landmark coconut trees near FM, i had such gratitude for this haven and the safe return from an epoch physical, energetic, mental, spiritual journey, and all the intelligence that shepherded us throughout. We collapsed on the porch at FM and drank water, orange juice, and ate water melon and groaned a lot and recounted details of the trip. Collapsing into bed i am awake again full of happiness and love for the Siddha Lineage that has brought us here and nurtured us with every breath. Sadguru Maharaj Ki Jay!! We have visited and been blessed by the fountainhead of the Lineage Spirit which we have enjoyed since we arrived at FM.

Speaking Marathi.....
We are beginning to break through the language barrier a little each day here in Maharashtra as we finish our fifth week of Marathi classes. Three times a week we meet for two hours with Gita, a Elementary Teacher who was trained in English-speaking Convent schools for her entire education. Marathi is not her first language, but she had to learn it when she married Pravin 22 yrs ago. She says it took her 12 years to master the language, but since it is not her first language she has an idea of what it takes to learn it as an adult. She primarily teaches English to children, so she is interested in languages and how best to teach languages.

We are her first Westerners, and maybe adults as well, so she is having to adjust to our desires and needs. Dewa (Dahvee) does not want to sit on the floor as it hurts his knees. I like sitting on the floor for it made of tile and offers some refreshing coolness in the heat of the day. She is most comfortable sitting on the floor as are most Indian people we have met. Chairs are uncommon. This has impacted our instruction in that Dewa is higher than the teacher. Also he is an older male, and women have to reduce their contact with men, although they would tell you this is not so. It is just in the culture. So we have had to take this into consideration when participating in the instruction. Dewa can be left out if we don’t make a point to include him. Things one takes for granted can become a challenge to overcome.

We started with learning to hear, pronounce, write, and read the 12 vowels. With each letter, she assigns about five words to memorize. Now we have begun to learn the 24 consonants. Last weekend went to the beach for two nights. Along the way we were able to read the mileage signs and the name of our destination. Made us feel we are learning something. On the way home, we played a game with our two drivers. We spoke the Marathi words we knew, hoping that we could pronounce them correctly and they would recognize them. Their challenge was to interpret it correctly into English. The four of us got the pleasure of practicing our language skills with each other. I think we probably pronounced 80% of the words correctly.

Yesterday a woman came up to me saying “Aunti, Aunti.” I turned around to meet a woman I had seen the night before in the Nityananda Temple. I asked her for her name in my limited Marathi, but I must have gotten it right, for she told me her name. It always feels exhilarating when somebody speaks back to you. They light up to realize that you just spoke to them in Marathi. Of course, then they go on to speak so rapidly you don’t stand a chance to answer. This is when I have to pull out the standard phrase, “Me Marathi bolto nay,” which means I don’t speak Marathi. This too usually gets a laugh out of everyone. One person told us it will take us 4 years to learn Marathi. Neither Dewa nor I ever became fluent in Spanish and only speak like children, but it has always opened doors for us that we can do that much. Maybe in the next six months we will be able to have some little conversations with our neighbours.
India is a land of many languages and so it is very common that everyone speaks two to four languages. Here in Maharashtra, Marathi, Hindi and English are most common. A lot of the Indian people we meet are from a different state, and that means their first language is from their home state, and Hindi, Marathi and English are added on later. Actually, I feel a lot of admiration for these people who can speak four languages and it inspires me to make the effort to learn Marathi as well.
We learned the other day that Marathi is a derivative of Sanskrit. Here is what Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia had to say:
Marathi (मराठी Marāṭhī) is an Indo-Aryan language spoken by the Marathi people of south western India. It is the official language of the state of Maharashtra. There are 90 million fluent speakers worldwide.[2] Marathi is the 4th most spoken language in India[6] and the 15th most spoken language in the world.[3] Marathi is the oldest of the regional literatures in Indo-Aryan languages, dating from about AD 1000.[7]
Marathi is estimated to be more than 1300 years old, evolving from Sanskrit through Prakrit and Apabhramsha. Its grammar and syntax derive from Pali[citation needed] and Prakrit. In ancient times, Marathi was called Maharashtri, Marhatti, Mahratti etc.

Marathi
मराठी Marāṭhī
Marathi written in Devanāgarī and Modi

Pronunciation
[məˈɾaʈʰi]
Spoken in
India , Israel and Mauritius[1]
Marathi speaking population is found in United States, Suriname, Guyana, Trinidad and Tobago, Netherlands, Canada, UAE, South Africa, Israel, Pakistan Singapore, Germany, UK, Australia & New Zealand
Region
Maharashtra, Goa, parts of Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Sindh, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Dadra & Nagar Haveli and Daman & Diu
Total speakers
Total 90 million speakers[2]70 million native, 20 million second language
Ranking
15[3] (native)15[2] (combined)
Language family
Indo-European
· Indo-Iranian
o Indo-Aryan
§ Southern Indo-Aryan
§ Marathi
Writing system
Devanagari script, Modi script (traditional)
Official status
Official language in
India (State of Maharashtra, Union territories of Daman-Diu)[4] and Dadra Nagar Haveli[5]
Regulated by
Maharashtra Sahitya Parishad & various other institutions
Language codes

Marathi is spoken in India, Mauritius and Israel. Marathi is also spoken by emigrant Maharashtrians worldwide, especially in the U.S. and Europe.