Auro-villains

Day 12 - 31 March 2006

The journey and the transport have now reached new chaotic heights, but there's a new age oasis of calm at the end of the road...

We're just about to leave Pondicherry, but we endured a nerve-fraying bus journey from Villapuram to get here, I can tell you! Yesterday we took a lazy (and sweaty) train ride from early morning Madurai, and arrived in an intense and bad tempered Villapuram. We found the bus to Pondicherry, a typical old knackered affair, with DIY electrics peaking out around the dashboard. I can say that there was plenty of space on board for us and our luggage, and the tinny speakers knocking out commercial bangra put us in a slightly better mood. It was only supposed to be a one hour journey, so all well and good. We should have known from the grumpy fizzog of the conductor and the possessed look of the dirver that something was wrong. We cracked off at a fair old pace and when we reached the first stop all seats and standing were taken up. After that point the the driver kept looking at his watch, me and Jaz (one of our mates from the group), who were sat adjacent to him, had a perfect view as a slightly pushy driving style emerged, together with a preference of horn over use (both even by Indian standards). A little further on it turned into a take-no-prisoners rally. We drove on the right hand side of the road, overtook buses whilst other buses were approching us in the opposite direction - pulling in front with inches to spare and forced cyclists and rickshaw drivers almost off the road. Night descended which did not help matters. Rickshaw lights are not particularly bright, and the constant over-taking, incessent horn and fog-horn (yes, like on an ocean-liner) usage was frightening indeed. Prya, our group leader, asked the driver to slow down; not only the group but the rest of the bus were terrified. He took heed until he was chastised by the angry bus conductor. Pedal to the metal again, I was soon tracking our progress between the spaces of my fingers. Pretty soon we came to another stop, but it wasnt long enough for both the woman and child, who wanted to get off, to disembark: the woman had to jump off the moving vehicle. With our knuckles whitening we again slowed down through a crowd of people blocking the road. Hammering on all sides and shouting at the driver, the yelling crowd stopped the bus completely. They continued this and began to paste posters onto the wind-shield of the bus. It turns out our driver is not unionised. After eventually getting past the picket, the driver was now checking his watch even more furiously. I noticed the signs for 'Pondicherry' were becoming more frequent, but the distance was decreasing incredibly slowly, whilst our will to get off the bus was sky high. I noticed a woman with a baby which would easily have flown out of her hands with even a slight break. Jaz's jokes about road crashes didn't make things any easier. When we finally arrived i was covered in sweat. Prya informed the driver that he was "the worst in India" (and therefore possibly the world), but he just grinned and got off the bus.

Pondicherry is a former French enclave, and the French colonian streets and architecture, together with the good food and wine in this evening's restaurant, went a long way to calming our nerves. I probably would have been pleased to leave pondicherry directly after this. It felt - on my limited experience - as though it had an unpleasant edge some of the other towns didn't: traders who were that bit too pushy and taxi drivers willing to mow you down. The "Sri Aurobindo Ashram College" was a rock of calm in the middle of these stormy waters.

Sri Aurobindo was a poet and political leader, as well as a contemporary of Gandhi's. As independence drew near his thoughts turned to the long-term future of India in the world. A master Yogi, he focused on divine spirituality and inner consciousness rejecting all divisions of religion, race, borders or political systems. Only the supreme truth rather than any doctrine could be followed (if you consider that not to be a doctrine). He set up the Ashram (or spiritual community) and founded a community to follow the route of peace and harmony. This was when he met Mira Alfassa, or "the mother", who continued his work, forming industries to support and develop the community and further the cause of divine spirituality. They also formed a new settlement called "Auroville" (picture slow, lilting flute and recorder music, floating candles and yoga positions). The college had a very calm garden and "samadi" - a water trough filled with flowers where people were meditating. After some time thinking, we moved onto the Aurobindo paper mill, where they produce paper sustainably from all sorts of fibrous material. The idea aspired to is one where each human is valued equally, regardless of the function they perform or title they hold. These are opportunities to serve mankind.

We were shown around the mill by an Aurovillian who explained the purpose of spirituality in the world as he saw it, and the limitations of the materialistic life of the west. OK, this comes on like some of dubious cult or unattainable dream. Well, alarm bells did start ringing when he talked about how the world was already working towards an end to poverty and solving the requirement for food and shelter in humanity. Too long in Aurovile perhaps? I am always interested by anything which purports to provide an alternative form of existence. It was the horizontal decision making, small community groups and non-hierarchical status of people (the Aurovillians) which interested me because it sounded like a working example or anarchism. Of course, it wasn't, because it still abides by one authority - that of divine spirituality, which means little to an agnostic man from the Home Counties. Regardless, I'd already decided that I liked our first Aurovillian because he had a look of intrigue about him. He had an assured and calm nature, but then so do charismatic con-men. Around the paper mill (somewhat looked down upon in the Aurovillian community for being open to the public) Aurovillians went about their business in much the same way you would expect. The only difference is that you can dictate your own working patterns to some extent.

I wanted to see further into this community, so we went to Auroville. To what extent they'd made this new town (planned to hold 50,000 people and inaugurated by 'the mother' in 1968) work and progress, could only be measured by a visit.

That afternoon we set off from Pondicherry, and when the terrain changed to lush and verdant vegitation, we were driving through the residential zone of Auroville. Other than a few westerners, the settlements looked like most other indian villages,bar a few more dwellings being constructed. This was oringally arid waste-land that had been changed via innovative irrigation into a productive fertile area. Apprently 5,000 jobs had been created for the non-Aurovillian community around the locality, but of course this is perpetuating the market economy and non-spritual path outside. A short hop further on, past lazing dogs in green lanes, we arrived in "Peace" - the centre of Auroville, and one of five zones (the others being creative, residential, industrial and one which escapes my memory)..

My first impression was that the place was quiet, reflecting its small population. In amongst the well-tended gardens and pleasant buildings sits an information centre, where we were shown a video about Auroville and then the central worship place, "Matri Mandir". I quite liked the place, but the Aurovillians themselves are stand-offish so you couldn't find out a great deal. We walked over to the Matri Mandir, but looking at the huge globe in which meditation took place, you didn't gain much 'Auro-insight'. I'm afraid the whole place had undertones of restriction of free will, simply because of the restrictions placed upon those who visited Auroville. An Aurovillian explaining the Matri Mandir and ampitheatre to the crowd of trendy and bored Bengali shool kids seemed very authoritarian to me. We couldn't move inside certain roped off zones and found out that residents have to adhere to a fairly defined set of codes.
A big problem for me is the use of the word 'spirituality', of which I have very little understanding myself. Without a strong sense of sprituality as a instinct and destination, rather than a duplicitous religion or a loaded agenda it is hard to judge Auroville. I wouldn't describe myself as spiritual; perhaps soulful from time to time!
I should remember that this is a work in progress and that Auroville was never expected to function without complications to begin with - rather that it would develop in stages, towards the ultimate goal of the human race guided solely by spirituality. Common practical problems you could ask of Auroville would be personal disputes and judicial issues, as well as the extent to which they rely on the outside community; I'll need to do some more research on this. As I expected, a number of committes formed via representatives of small groups decided on the day to day matters in Auroville, similar to Anarchist based systems. I was impressed on leaving Auroville that at least they'd made the community work since 1968, aspiring to ideals which I found at least partly commendable myself. They have made an alternative (if far from perfect), society function largely outside the bounds of the state, the UN, the IMF, the WTO and the World Bank for almost four decades. I think that itself is an encouraging signal to humankind.