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F u l l   m o o n


At the beach

Some Aurovilians are lunatics, literally. When a full moon rises, so do they. The stock standard full moon gathering occurs on the beach. Someone heads into Pondy (the local town) and buys whatever the fish market has to offer, while others ferry firewood, drums, guitars, frisbees and whatever else they can think of to the beach. By the time the sun has set everyone's gone for a swim in the moon-maddened sea and ferocious hunger has set in. Onions and potatoes roast in the fire and fish grills above on a piece of chicken wire. Water boils for tea while everyone either waits or cooks.

Sticky, sandy and delicious

Traditionally dinner is sticky, sandy and delicious. Hot sweet milkpowder tea tastes like nectar and the mood becomes tangibly more relaxed as digestion sets in. When energy returns, improvised music and sometimes theatre performances involve anyone prepared to knock two sticks together or even sing. When that gets boring: frisbee, handstand competitions, see-if-you-can-catch-me and more swimming.

Life-giving force

With the absence of any light other than the fire, the moon beams with such power that it feels like a small sun radiating some life-giving force. Everything seems alive, not the least of which the ocean, which heaves and froths with intimidating joy. Everything feels like your friend, and you want to whoop and call and jump about, and you do. Everyone understands because they're doing it too.
By 4am you finally nod off reluctantly. The dawn - brilliant and reflected on the sea - compels you awake, and through bleary eyes you marvel as you shake the sand from your salty hair.

Thank god the next one's a month away.

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