Uma Reed & Friends

Dear Folks,

I’ve been lazy about sending you updates on our trip–mainly because there’s not a lot to report! We’re still on Kudle Beach, near Gokarna in western Karnataka state.

We’re both amazingly healthy, thanks to the sun and beach and ocean, not to mention the balmy breezes and tropical fruit right off the tree. We moved to a new room two weeks ago, a little house in the garden where we stayed on our last trip. (It was full until after Shivaratri.) The house is just a bedroom and bathroom, but it has a wonderful covered patio looking out to the ocean, surrounded by coconut palms and beautiful tropical plants. Very peaceful.

We have fallen into a routine of taking an early morning walk on the beach, then having tea and toast and reading the morning paper at a nearby cafe. Next we have a swim and some beach time, then back to our room to shower and dress. We do our laundry in a bucket and hang it out to dry, which happens quickly in the warm breeze. We spend lots of quiet time on our porch in the afternoon, reading, studying, watching the gentle waves. At some point we head out for lunch, or eat a fresh pineapple or papaya we get from the fruit seller on the beach. When the heat begins to subside and the sun starts its descent, we take another walk on the beach and eventually sit down in the sand to watch the bright red sun set into the ocean. At nightfall, we have a leisurely dinner–it can take up to an hour and a half to get your food after ordering! We spend more time sitting on our porch, often in the dark, before going to bed. We sleep great, lulled by the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore.

Once a week, we climb the hill at the end of the beach and trek into  town for whatever supplies we might need… It’s a hot trip, but fun to see what’s going on, and to experience the incredible ocean vistas on our way over.

As it stands, we plan to stay here until it’s time to go back to America. Our days are deep and peaceful, and unless we get really bored (which we doubt), we want to keep soaking it up as long as we can.

I’ve gotten in the habit of checking e-mail every two or three days. The connections are pretty good here, so if you want to write, we’d be happy to hear from you. Meanwhile, we send lots of love and sunshine your way.

Love,
Uma and Shivaya

Kudle Beach
Last night the most extraordinary and astonishing kirtan I—we—have ever experienced.
To explain how we came to be there: Before we left the states for India, I e-mailed some of the people we had met here on our last trip, to let them know we were coming back. Among them was Yoana, a beautiful young Bulgarian woman we had met on the train with her South African boyfriend, Mike. At that time (2008), they both had major dreadlocks—Mike especially stood out because of his bright red hair and long, dreaded and beaded beard.
We had shared a seven hour train trip to Gokarna, and then spent time with them over the weeks we were here. We shared stories and sang kirtan together in their little hut overlooking the ocean. They were part of the Rainbow Family, and they traveled around the world playing their didgeridoos—for tips in cities, which financed their travels. They were two of the purest hearts I had ever met. I was especially taken with Yoana, and felt she was like the daughter I never had.
When I e-mailed them to let them know we would be coming back to Kudle Beach, Yoana replied, saying that she and Mike “don’t walk together in that way anymore.” But she said that she would be on Kudle Beach again at the same time as us, and was looking forward to connecting.
We had been here two weeks this time when, walking down the beach with our bags (we were moving into a new place), I heard someone call my name. I looked up to see Yoana beaming, running out of a café toward me. I was a tangle of straps and bags, but managed to free my arms enough to embrace her in an excited and happy hug. She insisted on carrying my bags over my resistance, and hauled them to our room, exclaiming, “Sometimes I am like Bajrangi!” (Hanuman)
Next day, Yoana and her new partner, Jai Krishna, met Shivaya on the beach. Jai Krishna, who had never met me, sent word through Shivaya that they were traveling with a harmonium, and I was welcome to borrow it if I wanted. I was rather stunned to receive such a generous offer from someone I didn’t know.
Yesterday again, Shivaya met them on the beach. They said that one of the friends they were traveling with had a son who was turning 3 years old, and they would be having a little party and kirtan in a café just off the beach.
We arrived at the café at the appointed time, as instruments were being carried in. Jai Krishna lost no time in getting things started. His kirtan traveled through the world of deities, calling names with such reverence that their presence was immediately felt! The shakti was off the charts, but there was a focus that kept the energy grounded in the heart, rather than using it to trance out.
It seems he has spent many years in a village in Bengal (he is British), living with Bauls (ecstatic street musicians) and learning from them. He has no interest in anything but this, and is not a “performer.” In all our years of exposure to kirtan, Shivaya and I agreed we have never met anyone so completely and egolessly immersed. Yoana innocently mused, “When you live the life for Bhagwan, it is so wonderful.”
Yoana herself is a remarkable person. She clearly has chosen an alternative lifestyle, traveling throughout the world with various friends who she refers to as “the family.”
Her dreadlocks are now gone, having been cut off in a moment of spontaneity on the banks of the Ganga in Varanasi. She relayed the feeling of being relieved of so many layers of identification as she watched the matted locks float away down the river.
I don’t know when or how she hooked up with Jai Krishna, but they are a beautiful complement to one another, living the divine life with no airs. They both radiate a light that is clearly not born of this world.