Honored by the Swamaji

Visiting the Swamaji

Sravanabellagola is a major religious site for Jain pilgrims. The town is small and set between two mountains made of pure rock. One is small and has a temple complex, the other is large and after climbing the 647 rock steps you get to hang out in this temple built around a 57 foot tall naked statue of a man. I love it. I love every minute of it.

For every Jain temple there is a Swamaji, who oversees the temple. A couple of our group members got together and wrote a letter requesting an audience with the Swamaji. Our requests were granted and nine of us found ourselves in a simple room sitting around a soft speken man dressed in orange robes who spoke English really well. He asked who was in charge. Everyone looked to me "the Field Facilitator." I who hadn't set up this meeting, who hasn't read a thing about Jainism in the last 3 years since I was in India, I who didn't even know who this guy was. Yep, me. I'm in charge. I explained my role as field facilitator and that I had been three years previously. He asks me to move to the front so that I can help "translate" which meant repeat the questions in louder and more Indian English.

During our hour with him I was struck by two things: He is always smiling. It feels sincere, but it makes him look like he's always got a joke he feels is too naughty to say. I was also struck by how this man's religiosity is made possible because others are supporting him. For example, he has made an oath not to ride in a vehicle except for an emergency. He told us proudly he's only ridden in a car 3 times since he made that vow 5 or so years ago. Who gets your groceries? That's what I want to know!

After an hour of asking questions he motioned to his "servants" who brought us cream cotton shawls, necklaces, booklets, and small replicas of the naked monolith. The men quietly put the shawls and necklaces around my neck. I stood as if I was receiving a medal of honor for courage. I then stepped forward and received the gift of a booklet and statue from the Swamaji, handed to me with two hands like a Buddhist monk. I watched as each of the group members did the same.

He exclaimed that our questions were excellent and well informed. He mentioned that this hour was not wasted and that he'd like to meet with our little group again. We set a time for Monday morning and then were escorted to the VIP dining hall where we ate a simple, but delightful Jain meal--no potatoes, garlic, honey etc. Nothing that would cause harm. We laughed over our situation, all nine of us eating at this beautiful wood dining table wearing our cotton shawls and necklaces.

Being white can be frustrating in this country--always getting ripped off. I call it the white man tax. But I also realized that day that being a foreigner interested in and knowledgeable about Indian culture and religion can open up a lot of doors. I sometimes consider my skin as my ticket in, but it does come with a cost.