This was originally posted on blogger.

When I arrived to Pondicherry I quickly heard about a intentional community called Auroville. It’s about 15km from where I was staying, so I figured it was worth a day trip to see what all the hype is all about. (You can read about Auroville on Wikipedia) 

It was a hassle to get an auto rickshaw, but I haggled a little with the drivers and we made our way. The driver I got told me in Tamil “something something na something idli”. I said, “you want to eat idlis?? No, I want to go to Auroville now.” Eventually I understood, “ni pari na idli sapade” I clarified in awful Tamil. “You saw me eating idlis!” He smiled and nodded in affirmation.

The way to Auroville has dusty red roads and the usual cows and dogs around streets. I walked up to the visitor center and gave my contact in the town a call.

My guide Anand insisted we first watch the introductory video about Auroville. It was about Mother, the Parisian founder of the town, and some Hindu guru she had. And also it explained the dry, boring details of the construction of the golden dome in the center of the town. Auroville claims not to be a religious enterprise, but they seem to have a deep reverence for Mother (a local shushed some tourists for talking during the video).

Anand gives me an in-depth explanation of how one joins Auroville. The main requirements are “sincerity” and enough money. Auroville residents all volunteer full-time. In your first year, you must pay your own expenses. In your second year and thereafter, the town gives you a salary of 7,000 Indian Rupees, which they say is enough to live a dignified life. In your third year, to become an official member, you must buy a house for a few tens of thousands of US dollars.

For Anand, who’s from near Auroville, the financial commitment has always been out of reach. He’s multi-lingual and loves that he grew up around Auroville. His parents were farmers and he’s an only child. He’s always lived near the town and in its shadow, since he’s never been able to foot the requirements for entrance.

Anand shows me the various regions of the town on motor scooter. We see the agricultural zone, where people are farming spirulina, an algae that’s sold aboard as a nutrients source. There’s an industrial zone, where people are harvesting the red clay that is used to construct most of the buildings in Auroville. 75% of the energy used in Auroville is from solar panels, the remaining comes off the grid. Most people we meet who are working these jobs are not Aurovillians, but just people living nearby who come in to work.

We get lunch at Solar Kitchen, which is built like a college cafeteria. It’s an all-you-can-eat, pretty healthy meal for 350 rupees, but only Aurovillians can eat there (Anand uses his friends account number to swipe in). Aurovillians don’t seem particularly happy or friendly. I talk to two guys, Naresh (who’s Indian) and Chun (from China). They talk dismissively about their volunteer work (IT, gardening, being a therapist, conducting their own projects). Instead, we talk with Chun about how few Chinese have been let into India since COVID-19 (Chun reckons no more than 500. He got a special X2 visa to get into Auroville).

Over course of the day Anand tells me his story. He tells me about how he studied tourism, and taught at a local university. But then, the administration told him he was being fired because of his lower-caste status, unless he had to paid up 500,000 rupees. He had no such money and left. As a tour guide, he had great success taking Chinese tourists around India, until COVID hit and that fell off the cliff. Being an only child, he supports both him and his parents from just 4 months of work in the tourist season. At one point, he had no money for food, so he sold his mobile phone for a few hundred rupees and lost all his contacts in doing so. He dreams of buying an auto rickshaw so he can give nicer tours of Auroville. And maybe joining the community one day, and maybe traveling outside of India.

Auroville brands itself as utopian society with free healthcare, free education, no religion, no politics, no money. I feel most of those claims are grossly overstated. There’s certainly money in Auroville – the fund benefits from businesses started in Auroville that pay Auroville taxes, and donors from across the world. There’s some kind of religious worship of Mother (which they will deny). There’s politics, as Anand tells me, in how residents try to swindle money from the foundation. And free healthcare and education exists so long as you have paid into the Aurollian society with your money and labor. The one thing Auroville excells at is branding. Expecting too much of these alleged utopian societies is rather naive.

Even if Auroville exaggerates how great the town is, I can understand why people move there. It’s a lot like a gated retirement community, or a private liberal arts college, except for adults of all ages. It’s alright, if you can pay the price, which is very reasonable by Western standards, and when you compare Auroville to similar communities. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t ever say that moving to such a community can drastically improve ones quality of life. It’s just another place to be.

the golden dome the making of red bricks, which are used all over Auroville farm for spirulina, the algae that has made Auroville millions the solar kitchen cafe