We managed to wake up at 4:30 am to hike up to Savitri Devi with Gita and her family like we promised. It was a drizzly morning and we headed out through the town, mud and cow dung oozing beneath our sandals and getting between our toes. It was a caravan of six—Gita, her two grand daughters Veena and Sapna, Daramand (the helper boy) and us two sleepy zombies. Durga claimed to have a sore foot and stayed behind to sleep. We should have suspected there was another reason… It is only 1 km up to the temple, but the gentle slope with which the journey begins quickly becomes a rock-climbing trek made even more difficult that morning with rain-slick stones and herds of middle-aged crimson-saried women on pilgrimages clogging up the path. I was too tired to complain and was just thankful for the cool wind that hit us we ascended into the fog. Unfortunately, the spectacular view that would have greeted us any other day was completed obscured by mist. We arrived at the top drenched with chilled sweat and rain, spiritually fueled by the mantras echoing out of loudspeakers along the path. The temple itself was a bit of a let down. We shed our shoes at the entrance and tread tentatively over the muddy marble floor and into the chaos. Garbage was strewn everywhere and huge speakers blared electrified mantras while families bustled around getting their offering trays ready for the puja—coconut, flower petals, grains of rice, and coloured powders. Gita went to line up, and being a bit overwhelmed we decided to sit to the side and observe. When she had finished, we snuck out the back door and started the homeward journey. The decent was easier but my sandals kept slipping on the stone steps, so Veena held my hand and propelled me steadily down the mountain. We passed, not just one, but FOUR fake holy men all displaying 5-legged cows painted and wearing marigold necklaces (the small 5th leg always grew out of the cow’s shoulder and even had a hoof at the end!). Veena gave me some betel nut to chew on. Back in the town a boy started following Brandon, asking for chapati flour. B thought this was a good idea and since it was a holy day, he bought the boy a big bag at a nearby shop. Home at last, we fell back into bed and slept soundly with that satisfying feeling of accomplishment that can only be had when you wake up before dawn.
Naomi
