Amma Gonna Get Me a Hug!

It’s after midnight, and the hall in the Convention Center at Albuquerque’s Marriott Hotel is rocking. Well, maybe not quite ‘rocking’ but there is lots of chanting and drumming, and the atmosphere is equal parts electric and sweetly happy. Amma is in the house.

Amma is a short, round, perpetually smiling Indian woman, with a bulls-eye bindi (the little Hindu adherents have between their eyes, just North of the nose) and a flower-shaped, bejeweled nose ring. She’s widely known as ‘the hugger’. Amma has, by her organization’s count, hugged more than 26 million people around the world. Amma now heads a large charitable organization, building homes and hospitals, feeding the hungry and tending to the miserable. Amma has thousands of followers. Amma is all about love, and her hug is the conduit between her love and her people.

But let’s get back to my hug. First, let me set the stage.

There are two lines of chairs set on either side of the large convention hall, with row after row of chairs, 30 seats across, in the middle. Each of the side rows has two chairs. When your number is called (mine was Q2), one of Amma’s handlers, typically wearing white robes or a white sari with a color-coded scarf, told me where to sit. She also hands me a laminated sheet, explaining that I’m permitted to ask Amma for a mantra. If I do so, I’m essentially asking Amma to be my guru. I hand back the sheets. I’m not so good at gurus.

Amma herself is sitting in a chair, almost a throne really, on a stage at the far end of the hall. She’s surrounded by staff and hangers-on, people who just want to be in her presence. Every 20 or 30 seconds, a green-scarfed, perpetually smiling Amma devotee’ motions for me to move another seat ahead. Finally, I’m in front of the stage. I glance at my watch: it’s nearly 3 AM.

From there, the experience shifts gears into surreal-land. Once on stage, which is brightly lit, and swathed in fabric (there’s also a ceremonial rhinestone-encrusted umbrella above Amma’s head. You’re seated in a diagonal row of chairs, pointing toward Amma. You alternate with people from the other side of the hall. Finally, I’ve reached the last chair, from here on, it’s strictly kneeling, and shuffling forward on your knees.

Finally, I’m there. Amma hugs me, pretty fiercely, as a handler presses my head into her shoulder. She rocks me, saying something that sounds like ‘my daughter’, ‘my daughter’ over and over. She whispers something unintelligible…(Indian?) in my ear as she reaches into a bowl and puts a Hershey’s kiss chocolate in my hand, kisses my hand, and hugs me briefly again. It’s a strange, somewhat out-of-body experience. Even though I’m surrounded by people—robed assistants and supplicants of every age, color and sex, I felt very much alone, as if it was just the two of us. I didn’t feel a warm river of love, or electricity. It was more sweet and surreal than anything.

And on it goes, until 4 or 5 in the morning, I suspect. Before or after your hug, you can buy all sorts of Amma-related, Indian and spiritual stuff. T-shirts and pictures. Jewelry and knick-knacks. You can buy wreaths, plants and fruit, all of which Amma will be happy to bless when you’re getting a hug. You can also sign up to ‘love and serve’ as a food preparer, or even a trash hauler. One sign I saw, magic marker on white board: ‘two STRONG men needed to haul compost’. The possibilities are endless.

Would I recommend an Amma hug? Well, not so much the hug, but a resounding ‘yes’ to the whole experience. Get your token as early as you can—ideally a few hours before the event begins, dress comfy, bring water and lots of patience and open-mindedness.