Friday 9 January 2015

The ever-changing community

The lovely Italian family left yesterday; they’ve been coming for seven years, first bringing their son here when he was just three years old. Beautiful people: she is a yoga teacher and husband Emilio maintains property for expats living near their home in Tuscany. After their son was born, Emilio became a house-husband and full-time parent. Their entire demeanour radiated a sense of balance, and balance is the one thing we’ve been losing in this past couple of days.

More new arrivals came in the other night. It’s always challenging to try to identify where people are from and what brings them to Shantivalam. The members of this group look like students and are all very pale and thin. The skin colour rules out Southern Europe, and apart from the distinctly under-nourished physique, there is no other clear distinguishing factor that unifies them. They appeared at breakfast, so silence has been maintained and I wait for the first vocal communication to try to place them. Maybe Belgium.

Wrong! Americans. Very thin Americans. Very serious Americans, and apparently a family party. I let them do the vegetables this morning as I thought they needed to bond. I did consider making myself a label to wear on my tee-shirt, saying “I am on a SILENT retreat” so that I wouldn’t need to talk to them, but I decided it’s easier just to avoid contact. I really don’t understand my feelings, but I do struggle with strangers. They tend to be so different. I am the opposite of my father, who simply loved people – all people. He always managed to break the ice and find something to talk about; I envy him that, and wish I’d inherited that skill. However, I think several of my children have that ability, and I’m very happy that it’s not been completely lost from the gene pool.  
  
More new arrivals. Twelve large middle-aged women, mostly Swedish. They are a troupe of Circle Dancers. When I went to Skyros in 2000 there were lots of alternative activities, and they tried to get me into Circle Dancing. It was all I could do to stop myself breaking down in a fit of giggles when I saw a dozen adults holding hands and solemnly prancing round in a ring. In Greece this took place in a beautiful grove of olive trees. Here it’s all happening behind closed doors: the mind boggles.

More women later arrived this morning, drifting over from the women’s community on the other side of the road. I am finding this very challenging now, because the energy is becoming very unbalanced since 80% of the guests are middle-aged women. This is so often the case with serious spiritual groups, and it is one of the beauties of the Lincoln Cathedral congregation that there is a significant number of serious male members of the community – rather than just accompanying husbands.

Nobody would think that I was naturally reserved, just to be doing a trip like this, but sometimes I find it more than a bit challenging at a cross-cultural level. . I withdraw to my room and tackle the next chapter of the book, which is proving quite daunting, - but overall, it’s taking shape nicely and should be finished by the summer. I’ll have to start approaching publishers when I get home.

Off to Madurai on Monday, then I’ll be back in Kerala in ten days. I heard a rumour that they’d repealed prohibition and that Kerala is no longer a dry State. Now that would be good.




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