I arrived at Amritapuri the day before Christmas Eve. I was feeling a tiny bit homesick and also very excited about this place and curious about what it would be like. I ended up spending ten days here. India is full of ashrams and going to one is just a part of the experience,and I meet four familiar faces from my travels in India thus far.

When I first arrived I had to find the international office and sign in. It turned out that the ashram is very big, with many large buildings - all of them pink! It is situated in the exact spot where Amma was born and where she has been living her whole life apart from when she travels. It is in a small, traditional fisherman's village. So it's bizarre to see so many foreigners and Indian visitors in this tiny place. The story about Amma is truly amazing, and I've read her biography twice - first the western version and then the Indian version. The story itself is the same, but how interesting to see how things are viewed and emphasized in different ways. I met Amma for the first time in London a couple of years ago, so in one way I knew what was in stall for me. Who she is and what she does is too large a topic for me to get into here, check out her website or biography if you're interested. In short: she was born with the memory of what it was like to be in the spiritual world - to be one with the divine, she longed for this state of consciousness and through her prayer and extreme spiritual work she attained an enlightened consciousness. She is said to be an avatar - like Jesus, Buddha and others; a human being that has become enlightened. It is said that throughout time there has always been a certain number of avatars on the earth, to help mankind progress. To see Amma as an avatar is to have faith until one actually has an inner (or for some people even outer) experience of it. People might doubt her spiritual advancement, but that she is a great humanitarian is something that everyone agrees with, and her voice is one of authority in the political world as well as in other arenas. Her darshan (how a guru or teacher gives their blessing to the devotees) is to hug each and every person that shows up, meaning that she spends up to 22 hours hugging people several days a week all her life!

So for a western mind it is a lot to take in. I'm sure that if I sat down to talk with her, she would be able to talk and explain to me everything in a way that would make sense to me, but her work is in India, and so it takes on the colour of this country. So the first thing I meet apart from the amazing number of people and the physical surroundings, is the Hindu religion.

Somewhere deep down, in the furthest recesses of my soul there is a recognition of this religion. Being brought up with reincarnation as an everyday kind of topic, I can easily see that I was probably an Indian a few lives back. Something is familiar here. But I'm not used to seeing symbols, mannerisms, behaviours and emotions that I don't know the meaning and the purpose of. What is the red dot on people's forehead? Why do they sometimes wear a white dot? A white line? Three lines? Why do they touch the floor of the temple with one hand and then touch their forehead? Why do women shave their heads? All the mantras and mudras and pujas and homas - do they really work - and why and how? Who is Dhurga, Krishna, Khali, Shakti and Ganesha? I recall a conversation with someone in Bali about what it means to have a guru - a spiritual teacher. Questions arise again, and I buy a little booklet about what it is and how it is supposed to work. I have more questions in my head than I can remember having before. And not a single soul to answer it. People here would give me the answers that work for people here, I need answers that works for me. Intellectually a part of me wants to dive into it and learn about it so I can understand EVERYTHING. But I also know with all of me that this is not how it's supposed to be; I'm not in pursuit of a religion. So this is an ashram, a kind of convent. The people that live here are like monks or nuns, they devotee their whole life to their spiritual growth and to Amma's work - to help and heal humanity; the amount of projects and the variety of areas she is involved in is truly awe-inspiring.

In the ashram visitors can choose what they will partake in. So I decide that since I'm certain that what they do here is all positive - whether I believe it 'works' or not - participating will do no harm. I go for it, I partake and in this way I can wait with all the questions and experience it instead. Or at least be open to things. Being very critical and quizzical usually creates a distance, so here I go.

I wake up at four in the morning. In this part of the world (I'm still in the backwaters of Kerela) the loudspeakers scattered throughout the countryside is calling everyone to wake up and to start praying. I get up and wash and get dressed. It's cold this time of morning so I take my shawl with me as well. I leave the room, I live on the 10th floor. When I come to the end of the hallway I can see the Arabian Sea on one side and the backwater canals on the other. There are palm trees as far as the eye can reach and the mist lays heavily amongst them. Mist and palm trees. A magical combination for sure. It is dark, and apart from the devotional songs in Sanskrit on the loudspeakers it is absolutely quiet. I go down all the stairs, happy I remembered to bring my tiffon (metal thingy with a lid to eat food or drink from). The woman at the entrace of my building has already started her spiritual work, I hurry across the yard with other early birds and devotees to the temple. The room is filling up with women. The men gather elsewhere. People are sitting with their eyes closed, some in meditation, some in contemplation and some probably half asleep still. I find a place where I can sit and lean my back against a pillar. Some people worship at the altar and then it starts. They chant the 1000 names of the mother divine. In Sanskrit. I have it in writing. I just follow the sentences with my eyes. It's impossible to pronounce, it is so incredibly fast. After an hour of this, we finish with a beautiful song - in Sanskrit. I'm able to sing it and this feels like an accomplishment. It's six o'clock when we finish. I go to the other side of the building and present my tiffon to the chai ladies. So quiet, so dark, a little bit cold outside - the chai is spicy, sweet and steaming hot. I sit on the temple stairs outside and drink it straight from the tiffon. The thin metal is very hot and I have to hold the tiny handles to drin from it. Best time of the day. Half past six is meditation on the beach. The Arabian Ocean beach. Even just watching the waves and the vast ocean is special. Then it's breakfast time. If it's a darshan day it's going to be full of people from the ashram and visitors for the day that wants to meet Amma. She starts hugging people at ten in the morning. I get my ticket. It's Christmas Eve, a good day for a hug by an avatar I reckon. My number isn't until the evening, I have most of the day to do anything I want. So I sit on the temple stairs, watching people, thinking about things, reading and meeting and talking to other people. I have a nap after lunch. Half past five in the afternoon is sunset meditation on the beach again. It's absolutely stunning. A traditional fishing boat is silently gliding past in the distance. It's the traditional wooden boat with the tips curled in a distinctive Indian fashion. The boat stops exactly in front of the sun. The sun is so low now, that there is a golden ray on the water. I see something move in the water. I strain to see what it is. Dolphins. I'm sitting by the Arabian Sea - on the beach - in December - watching the sunset - and dolphins. Hello! This is my kind of place. Because it's Christmas there is some entertainment put on by the whities - the non-Indian residents of the ashram. It's mostly dance and it's fantastic - flamenco, ballet and contemporary. The evening progresses and its my turn to get into the darshan line. To be hugged by Amma is nice, but it is her powerful presence, the look in her eyes that touches me. I really do feel blessed when I go outside again. I call my family and it's great to connect with them and wish them Merry Christmas.

The following week goes by with some of these activities and the absolute favourite part of the day (apart from 6 AM chai) is the bajans. Words will never do it justice. I guess the spiritual reason for these devotional songs is to open the heart and put the human being in a more open and receptive state before the divine, and to show a kind of reverence and worship as well. Since its all in Sanskrit, Hindu or Malayam I don't understand a single word. Its bliss - because then my head doesn't need to be involved, I don't have to analyze or think or pay attention or anything. The music and their VOICES! I am transported by it and more than once I think that the angel choir in heaven must surely have a couple of Indian bajans on their repertoire. The devotees are usually dressed in white clothes, and the more senior ones in yellow and the twelve most senior - the swamis - are dressed in dark orange. There is one Swami that has an incredible voice, and with the live music it is just captivating. He is quite famous because he has been with Amma for many years, he has a visible part in it all in that he translate Ammas talks into English - and for his voice. Big Swami is just leading the song, there is a small group of people with microphones and everyone joins in. So here I sit with my friend from Scotland amongst the Indian people on the floor in the great hall, and all I can do is listen and clap in rhythm as the tempo increases. Once in a while one of my favourites are sung and I just think 'I'm home'.

In addition there is Seva - selfless service, a little bit of shopping (bajan CDs), a visit to the Ayurvedic doctor and the vedic astrologer, and mealtime chats or mealtime silence, all depending. On New Years Eve I receive another darshan, and there is a great performance put on by the girls in one of the Colleges (the school is set up by the ashram and the girls have their dorms here as well) - depicting through dance one of the stories about Krishna.

When I leave a couple of days later, my heart is a bit softer, and my mind is a bit more certain, that I am not convent material. In the ashram there are two small elephants and on my way out on the last day I end up walking behind one of them; he is carrying some bamboo branches in his trunk. I've been in India long enough to know what this means. Ganesha, the elephant headed god, the remover of obstacles, is clearing my path into the New Year.