Kankapura - Kareli - 19 km / 12 miles
I wake in the glow of the yellow OM and emerge from our sleeping quarters. I hadn’t noticed an exterior staircase leading up to the flat roof and out back an elaborate altar to the warrior goddess, Durga. I keep a corner in my own home for meditation but this entire walk is truly one long meditation. We take many photos of each other before departing for the bridge to cross the Mahi River by car. As I look at Tahir posing with the two daughters, his arms affectionately wrapped around their shoulders like an older brother, I wonder if they are twins. They appear the same age, only one wears a red bindi and I wonder whether it signifies she is already married. I don’t know whether Hardik is a brother, a father or a neighbour! My impression is forming of Gujarat being one big family.
The river crossing is a non-event by car but I enjoy it in my imagination.
Our first stop is the dharamsala in Kareli where we will be staying for our night halt. The shelter where Gandhi had slept still remains right beside it. The door has a rusty padlock but the caretaker locates the key and with some effort Erico gets it open. Pinpoint spots of light pierce through holes in the tin roof scattering the interior walls and floor with stars. Our gasps of awe break the silence. Faded photos of Gandhi, the Satyagrahis and a map of the Salt March unite us and I feel assured of our protection on this journey. We have been invited to a household where we get acquainted with the husband and wife and their adult son before heading off to the south shore of the Mahi River, the landing spot of Gandhi’s long night’s crossing. We arrive and I pull off my shoes and wade into the mud as a token gesture to the strenuous effort their crossing had required.
We return to our hosts where another delicious thali has been prepared for us. We sit on the floor eating while the husband, wife, sister-in-law and son observe and converse. After the meal we’re offered use of the shower located up the stairs outside. That and a fresh change of clothes has me feeling completely revived. This family is very curious to learn about us and the women are more open with their questions. They admire my painted toenails and ask if I would do theirs but alas, I did not bring polish with me! They also remark on my lack of jewellery and ask whether I wear gold at home. I don’t and I had purposefully packed and outfitted myself modestly as a walking pilgrim. At this moment I feel I must be a huge disappointment for not being glamorous. They enquire whether Erico and I are a couple and when we tell them, “No, we are friends!” it raises more questions about a woman travelling on her own. I would be interested in hearing more of their personal desires on that subject.
Nearing sunset we have Tahir drive us back to the river so that Erico can photograph the Mahi shore in better light. Some men are standing on the bank watching the sun while a woman seated on the ground nearby cuts twigs from a neem shrub. I’m told they’re called datum and used for cleaning teeth. We settle in for the night at the dharamsala. It’s one of the more austere accommodations we have had but amazingly there is electricity to charge the phones and Erico’s camera and laptop. Just as we’re to turn in there is a knock at the door. Tahir introduces a father and his six beautiful children who have brought us a pot of hot chai. The hospitality is becoming close to embarrassing as we have little to offer in return. They watch and wait while Tahir and I drink tea then we all head back outdoors for group photos under the magical moonlight.
That Little Painter Fellow *
Painting the light
The Starry Night
*Vincent Van Gogh