Shanti Marg

I started my trip to Sri Lanka by staying a week at a yoga retreat in the jungle.  A yoga retreat with no electricity, no coffee, no hot water and no alcohol; not to mention separate “outhouses”.

And, dear reader, I was the only “guest” not text-messaging their nearest and dearest to tell them that I had arrived in Paradise.  Perhaps it was because I was the only American–and the British women may well have connected with their girl-guide pasts.  But that doesn’t explain the Norwegian spa owner, or the diving instructor from the Soneva Spa in the Maldives.

My only moment of ecstacy was my last day, when I went over to the Ayurvedic center (I had resisted the purging and the leeches) and stood in the stone enclosure and ladled hot water from the steel cauldron on the open fire into a bucket of cold water, and then poured it over my grime-coated body.  I want to remember this moment–and replicate it if I can in Mexico.

There have been some memorable moments–I stayed at a hotel that may just have been perfect–exquisitely designed, lovingly managed, charming in every way.  I find the practice of presenting scented water lilies to the Buddha statues lovely.  And I wonder why I never thought of unisex “tube” sarongs that never come untied.

I also managed to find a wonderful antique store in the middle of nowhere–well, I thought it was in the middle of nowhere, only to find in their guest book, that they had customers from Germany, France, Japan, Korea, Israel….unbelievable.

But the food is beyond awful–and I miss terribly the exquisite sense of artistry and design that have always found to be woven into the very fabric of life in India–the large neighbor across the water.

San Miguel in the Christmas holidays is overflowing with tourists. 

There isn´t a hotel room to be found, the restaurants are packed, and there are no empty benches in the Jardin.

For my first New Year´s Eve in San Miguel, I didn´t want to spend the evening in a packed bar with drunken Texans waiting for the fireworks at midnight.  What to do, to make this a special event?

I had heard of a hotel, Casa de Aves, at a distance from the city, that had a reputation for serene charm.  So, I convinced my friends that an elegant retreat was more in keeping with new beginnings than a rowdy party.

I made a reservation, and at 8 PM we started off down unpaved dark roads to our destination…..with occasional sightings of small signs pointing the way to the hotel.

By the time we arrive, I feel like Hansel and Gretel at the vision of the witch´s cottage.

The hotel is charming and welcoming.  The stars are blazing in the clear night air–and a telescope is out on the patio, if I remembered any of my astronomy.  But more inviting is the crackling fire in the den, and the bookshelves with books about Mexico and architecture, and history and, of course, birds.

The dining room has one long table–we shall eat family style, with the eight other people who have gathered here.  Our hosts welcome us with drinks and appetizers, and we introduce ourselves to our new acquaintances.  Dinner will not be served for another hour, so one of the guests suggest blackjack (not for money–only for chips), and we adjourn to the game room to play around the table with Johnny Mathis singing in the background.  Drinks keep flowing…I am beginning to wonder how much this will cost….hoping I haven’t led my friends into penury.

We sit down to dinner and a lively conversation–eat to repletion, and step out to the patio  for fireworks, and embraces at midnight.

Donna and Alberto (fellow guests) demonstrate for us their mastery of the tango (product of a visit to Argentina) and we attempt to imitate their grace, and fail miserably.

We think it is about time to head back to the city, and we request the bill–at this point, I am hoping I have enough credit left on my credit card, for surely I don´t have enough cash.  Three hundred pesos–which is about $28.

Feliz Ano Nuevo.

The Mexican government, in its infinite wisdom, allows holders of a residence visa a one time pass on importing household goods into Mexico without paying any customs.  This pass is good for six months from the issuance of the visa.

 I always thought that I would sell my house, and then pack everything and move down to Mexico along with my chattel.  Then the bottom fell out of the housing market, and it became clear that my one time pass was about to expire, whether the house was sold or not.

My worldly goods had to go–with or without me. So last week, a crew of five guys and a 53 foot trailer pulled up in front of my house, and began to pack and load my stuff for the trip down to San Miguel. 

All was going well–until they inserted the prongs of the forklift under the crate containing my Ganesha (surely you remember my Ganesha).  The forklift died, and then it began to snow, as we stood there in the alley, halfway out of my garage.  After a certain amount of hysteria (that would be on my part), and some quick brainstorming (that would be on the crew’s part), another forklift was procured, and by 7 PM, I was standing ankle deep in snow waving goodbye to everything I owned.

Two days later the moving company (who I cannot recommend highly enough, if any of you decide to move anywhere in the world) called me in my newly Zenlike house to tell me my trailer would be in San Miguel on Friday, and would I be there to meet it?  (Just try to get a last minute ticket to Mexico around Xmas–it can’t be done.)

I called my architect in hysterics (it’s beginning to be a way of life)–and told him that he had to receive my stuff for me.  He started to apoligize for the fact that my house wasn’t done–and I said, “I don’t care about the house–just take care of my elephant!” 

Last night (or, as it turned out because of the snowstorm, early this morning), I left Chicago to come down here and see all my things in situ.  The sun is shining in San Miguel and I just bought an ice cream from my favorite street vendor.  The people in the hotel I’ve stayed at before, welcomed me and told me to feel their casa was my casa, and that they lived right on the premises if I needed anything.

Tomorrow is the big day–when I see my Ganesha standing tall in his new home…and then I have to meet with my attorney to deal with the little issue of the 68 boxes of Turkish towels I ordered when I was in Bursa, that are still sitting in a warehouse in Laredo–because somehow the Mexican government couldn’t fathom why I felt 1200 towels were a necessary part of my household goods…

To be continued…

This is a picture of a hotel I stayed at in Bali after it occurred to me, that if I plan to run a hotel that positions itself as a retreat, I should probably try a retreat myself. So, I typed yoga retreat into Google… and that’s how I ended up in Bali, taking yoga classes in an open air pavilion, surrounded by rice paddies. Read the rest of this entry »

from M. Kanniappan,

Sagunthala Sculpture,

Mammallapuram

Good Morning Madam,

I am keeping well and I wish and pray the God for the goodness and prosperity of your family there.

I am very proud of the Lord Ganesha Statue, sent to you by last week. Your selection of Lord Ganesha Statue is the most precious one; because throughout the whole Hindu religion and culture of India, Lord Ganesha is the first and the most important God for any rituals as in the temple or in the home as well.

So, this Lord Ganesha Sculpture would bring good and satisfied life for both of you and me also. The quality and power of Lord Ganesha is to give happiness to life and take away all the unwanted worries. To bring goodness to life and take away all the badness from us. And so that all your willingness in your life would be entirely satisfied by keeping the most precious statue of Lord Ganesha with you, all the time in your life.

Moreover, after as you have given the Lord Ganesha Statue order to me, at my place, I have taken special care and strived very hard to make the nice and full finishing of Lord Ganesha Statue according to your entire satisfaction and admiration.

I have taken much care to finish the fullness of the Sculpture of Lord Ganesha as because lakhs of people at America should see it, and admire the beauty and art of the Sculpture as well. Also you should be admired by your people for your good selection of Lord Ganesha Statue.

Thanking you,

Yours Sincerely,

M. Kanniappan

Everywhere you go in India–in taxis, homes, stores–you find images of Ganesha, the benevolent elephant-headed god known as the remover of obstacles.

At first just another oddity, in time his omnipresent benign gaze seems an essential part of the Indian experience.

So by the time I reached Mamallapuram in Tamil Nadu, unconsciously I was already in his thrall.

Mamallapuram was home to the first great dynasty of southern India, the Dravidians. Unlike the Roman and Greek civilizations that thrived concurrently and have since vanished, the Dravidian culture still lives today in its elaborately carved and actively utilized stone temples.

One of its legacies is stone carvers who make their living pursuing the craft of sculpting granite statues for temples and homes. The workshops of these artisans line the highway leading to the city, and after a tour of the temples, I stopped on the road to examine some of the work being done now.

Unfortunately, the voice of reason, otherwise known as my aunt( or Massie, as she would be called in Hindi) had elected to retire to the hotel for a restorative massage.

Past endless Parvatis, Vishnus, Shivas…inevitably, I found myself standing before a six foot tall Ganesha. I began a discussion with the master stonemason with the aid of my guide and the driver (how long did this sculpture take, how much does it weigh, how much does it cost, etc.) and soon a crowd had collected. Before I quite realized it, a shipping agent had been sent for, I was sitting in the courtyard with the artisan’s wife and children, and heated negotiations about price had begun.

What is an Indian resort without a resident god? Thus I rationalize the purchase of a two thousand pound plus statue for (currently) an empty field in Mexico.