Holy Pilgrimage

I decided to make another escape from the big city for the weekend to the rural village of Champaner (pop. approximately 3,000). The area has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, with huge mosques and fortifications from its glory days as the regional capital now abandoned in farmers' fields. Nearby is the holy mountain Pavagadh, with an important shrine to Mahakali located on the very tippy-top. Little did I know that my outing coincided with the last day of the lunar month Chaitra and a massive 28 day celebration dedicated to the godess. When I desembarked instead of encountering the bucolic scenes I expected I was greeted by hundreds of buses and thousands of pilgrims. In the mass confusion I could not find the one hotel in the region where I had planned to spend the night, so I decided to tackle the mountain carrying all of my earthly posessions in this hemisphere with me. A month ago this would not have been challenging, the hike is about as strenuous as Hinniger flats back home (about 3 miles and 2,000 feet elev. gain only lined entirely with vendors, think of the approach to La Bufadora in Ensenada, Mexico and you get some idea) but my muscles have atrophied while in India, and my caloric intake has been well below the 2,000 daily recomendation (in the previous few days I had only eaten about 15 bananas, a medium bag of toasted beens, a few slices of cocmut, a couple of samosas, and a mango milk shake) reducing the amount of blood and muscle sugar stores available to me during the ascent. I did have plenty of water to stay hydrated during the cardio intensive exercise, but I felt exhausted and even contemplated stopping to rest, but I kept going to the top. All the while, throngs of pilgrims were engaged in the same quest, decked out with red flags and headbands, and carrying coconut offerings. After visiting the shrine and sitting on top of the temple to enjoy the spectacular views, I felt completely refreshed, physically and spiritually. This made my descent easy, and the aerial views allowed me to orient myself and find my lodgings, no problems. I was the only non-Indian participating in this mass event and I was invited to a communal feast that evening in a huge colorful tent set up in the bus yard. I was placed in a prominent location so all the pilgrims could watch me sit on the carpet and eat the large plate of food with my hands. They taught me their godess' slogan, and each time I mispronounced it I got big cheers. The pilgrims kept encouraging me to eat more, so I had about three dinners (I was very hungry at this point).