The Daily Routine

So I don't have one. Yet. But then I'm not too optimistic about getting one. There's an arti in the morning at 6, but I can't visually confirm that, because well, i've been asleep. To make up, when i've been in the ashram, attendance at the evening arti - also at 6 - has thus far been 100%.

In between i've been at CORD or exploring the ashram, checking out how things work and sitting in on various meetings that might be around, or meeting people - in short getting to know the place. To this end i've been greatly assisted by a CHYK from Ottawa, Canada by the name of Radha.

Radha has now been here since just before I left Sydney - approximately the 15th of November. She is also working at CORD, hoping to raise public awareness in Canada about CORD through a series of articles.

Anyway, Radha has almost been like a big sister. She's given me advice on the littlest things within the ashram as well as at CORD: told me what and where to eat, when the bookstore opens, where to get the best shawls from, the buses to catch to Dharamshala and McLeod Ganj, when the dhobi lady comes (more on this later!), what it's like in Sidhbari, the temple in a rock, where to find the multi-lingual sadhus with Phd's, who now sit around stoned, and a many plethora of the most miniscule thing. More than all the hive of information that she is, she's a cool, genuine person and a great friend.

So far though the two most important things i've learnt from her is that, one, life is a game - play it well. Two, everyone has a story. The many people who work at CORD, and those in the villages it seeks to uplift, have far dissimillar lives than what we have ever known or experienced. To discover these stories is one of the little known treasures of being here.

Hopefully I can at various stages share these with you.

Ok so this doesn't really give you much idea about a routine but like I said, don't hold your breath for one.

Finally back to the afore-mentioned dhobi lady. It had been four days since my arrival and the supply of clean clothes was lower than a Sydney dam! So Radha advised me all you have to do is pay her rs.100 per month and you'll have your clothes washed, dried and folded. She said: In the morning soak the clothes in some soap and leave the bucket outside your door: she'll take care of the rest. Sounds easy.

So I bought the soap and it struck me: Gandhiji cut his own hair in England so surely I can wash my own clothes? The first round went well, and as I write the whites are soaking in a solution of Hindustan Lever-distributed Rin Advanced soap and hot water. I didn't read the instructions so will let you know how it goes!

So i'm back and have resolved not to wear whites. The logic is as follows: if you have a black or blue shirt or sock the results are not immediately or ever discernable. After the washing procedure, one assumes the garment is pure and clean. With whites it's not satisfactory to just soak and rinse: the exam is pass or fail. If one can see a non-white colour, then the job is not yet complete. So I realised this and failed the test: I forego white!

PS I wrote all this last week, and have now tried to find the dhobi lady. Also, we have been joined by a CHYK from the UK, Jay. More on him later.