Homeless beggar kids greet aliens at the train depot.
Cosmic baby, what a sound
Come on girlies, Hampi bound.
Sit in cafes, munch all day
Meet some babas, smoke awayeee!
Moon crazies, freaks and hills
Who needs raves and poppin' pills?
Chilliebudbud -- groovin' till noon
Come to Hampi, temples, stars and moon!
--coffee shop mural poem.
Word got out. The German DJ Jourge was driving his "Shiva's Space Technology" bus over to the ancient city of Hampi to make a techno party in the ruins. Thus, loads of Goa freaks boarded their UFO's and flew to south-central India for the three-day full moon rave. This was much to the surprise and wild looks of our isolated hosts who had rarely seen so many foreigners, especially those weird kinds wearing the bizarre clothes of the space alien techno tribe.
Homeless beggar kids greet aliens at the train depot.
Hampi is a settlement where progress has reversed itself. Once a resplendent city where thousands of people reached a cultural zenith in art and architecture, Hampi was sacked by invading forces 500 years ago and left to ruin. Today it has been re-inhabited by illiterate farmers and herders who are easily shocked by the sight of a Westerner. Only a few cafes offer food and drink (which are exceptionally bad). The level of primitiveness is also apparent by their cruel treatment toward animals, and frequent arguments with each other in the streets. All this in great contrast to the ornate temples and odd obelisks at every turn.
Holy men babas on their way to the party.
Since the literacy rate for the whole of India is a mere 43 percent, surely the ultra-poor folk of Hampi could be no more than 4.3 percent. These people are truly uneducated. Hence, huge amounts of poverty stricken people getting their first glimpse of the 21st century and a sign of things to come. Talk about stone-age utter confusion! Packs of curious Indians would enter the party zone, mouths agape, trying desperately to make sense of the alien invasion and the strange tunes coming from the sound system. Most, it seemed, left with more questions than answers. When a large enough group of Indians were in the crowd, DJ Jourge would mix in a Hindu god sample: "Bom Shiva", "You could be Krishna", "Om Shaivaite". Some of the new spectators would run away from the party in sheer terror, others would begin praying and chanting, and a few (those with green in their blood) would start dancing alongside us. Totally classic.
Given the fact that most every Westerner at the party was tripping hard, the propensity for ultra-weirdness was way intensified. Something mundane to an Indian, such as a herd of water buffaloes crossing the river, was a very profound sight to an alien blazing away on vitamin A. Animals stole the show: monkeys stealing food from cafes, mangy dogs scratching all the fur from their body, and holy cows wandering about in their sacred ways.
DJ Jourge (with a shoulder tattoo) spins the jam for three days straight.
Best of all was exploring the hundreds of temples, shrines, old marketplaces, royal chambers, and other buildings of a culture long past. The ancient city spreads out over a hundred square kilometers, and would be difficult to supervise and guard. As a result, the whole city is open to climbing and adventure by night. This was a great way to satisfy our subconscious primordial urges. Cross the river (safari style), climb over a boulder ridge, and follow the thump-thump beat to Our Tribe. For three days we celebrated stone, fire, moon and bare feet like none other.
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