Awoke this evening just as the sun was setting. I lay there trying to kick my brain
into gear hoping my body would follow. The first mental challenge I grappled
with through the stickiness of halfwake was “do I have enough drinking water to
make it through the night and if not, can I get up and going down to market
fast enough before it becomes completely dark and unsafe for me to go out?” The thought of not having clean
drinking water was enough to get me up and going. I am constantly drinking water and it is constantly eeking
out of my skin – I just can’t get enough of it, drinking at the expense of food. Opening the door, checking the hall way - the coast was clear for
me to walk around in my culturally revealing shorts and tank top, down to the community
kitchen to check my water bottle supply in the frig. Drat!!! Down to
half a bottle!! I would have to go
out and I would have to go fast.
Vrindavan is the Holy City of Hindus. Krishna, a major Hindu god, was born in
Mathura, the city next door, but he and his best girlfriend Radu, played here
in Vrindavan. There are over 5000
Hindu temples, and it’s a huge Mecca for pilgrims, and Hindu devotees. The surge in Hindu militants has made
it a particularly dangerous place for Christians after dark, or even alone
during the day in secluded areas, if you happened to be unlucky enough to run
into a group of them bent on causing trouble.
And today, Vrindavan was filled with twice as many devotees
and pilgrims as people poured into the holy city from as far away as Delhi to
celebrate “Hariyaly Teej” or the “Greenery Festival” after the first monsoons
awakened the dry dusty earth with an explosion of green. I had walked downtown this afternoon
with Sandeep Peters to map out the way to our accountant’s office along the
narrow, twisting unmarked pathways of Loi Bazaar – in the heart of Vrindavan. And while it was siesta break time and
the streets relatively quiet, it was obvious the city was preparing for a huge
influx of crowds that evening; barriers and police were everywhere, makeshift
watering stalls, colorful venders, families sleeping on the roadsides and
street side foods more than usual.
Even the locals warned of staying away from the city tonight, when the
real festivities begin, under the cooling cloak of darkness.
The walk down to the city and back put me in a good mind for
my own siesta, and so I crashed and woke up just as the sun was going down,
thinking of water. I made it
safely down to the market and back with plenty of water for the night, but
wishing I was brave enough to join the chaotic throngs of festival goers in the heart of
Vrindavan.
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