Even the cows wander down the street in search of cover
Two cultures collide - the boy hawking candy floss and the dressed up tourist girl
April
This monkey visited for a few days. He drove the dogs nuts as they tried to figure ways to get at him. Instead, he sat on high throwing the odd thing at the dogs - truly taunting them
A lady coming down the street in Pnodicherry
Butterflies were everywhere
A boy and his sister
A natural photo subject
she was a little reluctant although her dad wanted me to take her picture
Refuge from the heat comes in many places
Surya and her husband invited us to breakfast on our last day. She is involved with child protection - she is a strong, valuable force who has such gentle ways with the children
The umbrella helps the driver - I am sure that must be true
The heat builds and seems to sustain itself. Someone here described that the wind comes from inland bringing with it the intense heat I have spoken about in prior posts. It seems like the heat is more intense as the monsoon is waited upon. Books have been written about waiting for the monsoon, chasing it and relishing within it. It is the stuff of legend here.
Indeed, locals celebrate the monsoon as bringing relief from the heat that has been here since at least mid April.With the monsoon, the heat is broken. There is the bang of thunder and the flash of lightening and the burst of rain. Then the rain - oh - and then the rain.
Adapting to the rain
As the rain arrives, you need to adapt. The dirt roads turn into rivers of mud. Its thickness can be like wet cement and you can slide on a moped quite easily. Trucks going past have little regard for the puddles or where their splash may end up - wait a minute - that's true everywhere in the world I think!
Rain predominates the conversation. After all, it is life giving. Crops will grow, ravines will swell, the ground bursts to life.
A street scene with rain, cows, umbrellas and life carrying on
The monsoon also seems to be a boon for the mosquitoes who are attacking in bomber like formations. You type a few words and then swat a few of them. If you are slow, and they have their bite into you, then when you kills them your hand is covered in blood - at least it is your own.
Leaving for the airport in the Monsoon was a treat like I cannot describe adequately. Picture, it is midnight and there are no street lights. It is raining so hard that it is like a big hose aimed straight at the windshield; the wipers cannot get the water away; the road has waves on it coming towards you; there is unmarked construction. Thoughts of death arose!
As a westerner, I am privileged here in more ways than I can contemplate. Many of these, cause me discomfort. A very simple example is going out to dinner. Tonight we will hire a taxi to go to Pondicherry and have dinner. We will spend 5-600R (around $14) and will eat at a level that so many Indians would not even imagine. In addition, we will have hired a taxi who will sit outside waiting for us while we eat. On the other hand, we are helping him earn a living.
Yet, I am struck by this as a result of seeing some drawings and statements written by 10 year olds who were asked what child protection means. One talked about not having enough food which made her sad; another being afraid of parents; another who drew a picture of not feeling safe.
These children just came up to me as I was riding through a village and asked me to take their picture. Their mother sat on the sidelines amused by the whole thing
I am safe in my life. I do not worry about being able to put food on the table. I do not worry about a parent abusing me. But I also realize that these same challenges exist in Calgary. They are just so evident here.
The sun bakes on days like this. You begin to realize that the wind blowing does nothing to cool. It scrapes along the skin wiping whatever moisture there is away leaving what feels like a sandy landscape. As you move about, your eyeballs dry out as the hot wind reaches in to suck up that liquid as well. This is the scenario of a hot day in south India. It is 37 degrees with about 80% humidity. In this heat you would expect the clothes to dry - they don't. It's a bit too humid.
By night, as the sun drops down and the humidity stays, you skin develops a coating of stickiness. A cold shower becomes delicious.
For most of the day, the power has been off so things like the internet have been elusive. But it is the fan that is lost - the chance for the movement of air from the ceiling.
Yet, it is also wonderful. In the later afternoon we hopped on our mopeds and wandered between villages. We were delighted to see Rajakumari in one village. She is an ama in our guest house - part of an incredibly hardworking cadre of women who essentially make the places work. They are jewels. Here in our guest house I have come to really enjoy them despite the fact that we each have about 8 words in the other person's language.
Our trip is nearing its conclusion - there is one more massage, three more dinners. We have been honoured by an invitation for breakfast at an Indian home on Sunday. This will be a highlight.
I have met some powerful and brave people here who believe in the rights of children. Some of what we take for granted around child protection is still only a conversation in its infancy here. But there are women and men willing to keep it going knowing that it may be generations before vast change occurs. But change is happening and these amazing people are making it happen. I have been blessed to meet them.
One of the things in life that creates memorable moments are the small, unexpected encounters with people which remind you how wonderful people really can be. This happened today. While driving on the main road, I was about to turn right so I didn't bother passing the pick up truck in front of me. In the back were men and women on their way home from work. So I smiled, took off my cap and bowed - creating all kinds of laughter and waving back. A brief but joyful moment in time.
Today was the 138th birthday of Sri Aurbindo - a day for celebration. It was also India day. We began the day getting up early (actually woken up by an incredible thunder overhead). At 5 a.m. we went to the Matrimnadir for a bonfire to celebrate the day and welcome daybreak.
This is the early morning bonfire which goes up in the air, throws man sparks. The Matrimandir is to the right
Later in the day, we went into Pondicherry for the Darshan at the ashram. This is an opportunity to go into the rooms that were occupied by Aurbindo and the mother (see earlier posts for discussion about them). This was the first time April and I have been able to do this. We felt quite privileged
There is a degree of patience required (as seen with this family) but we had a reservation so we went in as scheduled - quite well organized
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In the past we have spent a fair bit of time in Pondicherry - but the draw was not there this time. Were it not for the Darshan visit, we would have done our chores and returned to Auroville quickly. However, there are always interesting sights and people.
While sitting in my favorite street chai place in Kulyipalam, I was able to observe this elderly lady who uses a walking stick to get around town. She appears to have many stops in her day, and one is sitting on the side of the road having her tea from a pot that she was carrying around. She carefully found a place and sat down, pouring the tea from her container.
The dog wandered up beside her. She is old, lame and has obviously been through her share of accidents. Her left hip is damaged and she is starving for food and one suspects affection as well. This is a street dog – there are so many. They must survive on their wits and the ability to scrounge food from wherever. Few live to old age.
On this day, this lady shared her tea with the dog. She poured a small amount onto the pavement where the dog licked it up. She did this twice offering a small token of life to this poor animal.
A few days after this picture was taken, the dog was run over with her leg fractured and bleeding. In poor, rural India, veterinarians are few and far between and street dogs do not warrant such attention. She will simply gradually fade away as she bleeds to death. This is a harsh reality in a country where people are also starving in poverty.
Our Western sensibilities are offended. Life is short and for those left to survive at the margins, people or dogs, there is so little to draw them when tragedy strikes.
This woman gave this dog compassion. Such a gift from someone with so little herself to a life that had so little left in it.
I have been teaching a program here on child protection - half way through it. One of the joys of teaching is how much we really learn from the students. I have become more aware of the complexities of Indian culture. As well, I have come to undertsand how some things which we take for granted as being true in child proetction are not so here.
India faces a major problem with child sexual abuse - government and research estimates are that 53% of children have experienced this. Yet the resources needed to change family attitudes and to support children who need to tell their story are only emerging - particularly in rural areas. There is a need for a major cultural change that will take generations.
I am impressed however, with those who are willing to begin the conversations with families, children and communities. They show a strength and a willingness to be the voice of change. It is in meeting these people that I am most blessed.
Each journey here gives me way more than I can imagine returning.
I spent the morning doing my first day of teaching here with a full week to follow. Thus, I was inside for the morning hours with several ceiling fans ensuring that the air moved and the heat was kept at bay. During the break, we sat with our feet in the pool. Small fishes came up and ate what I suspect are the remnants of dead skin and whatever else may be on the feet. This was a most unusual experience that I could only tolerate for a few minutes – it tickled too much.
Emerging towards the end of the noon hour, I felt the heat for the first time today. It was a blistering hot furnace blast onto the skin as the temperature had climbed to around 40. There was no breeze beyond what you could generate on the motor scooter. I met friends from Bangalore for lunch. Even though we were under awnings that kept us from the sun, sweat rolled across the back like small rivers had suddenly formed on the skin. There was no escaping the reality – it was hot.
It was also a day where it seemed impossible to get enough water on board. As fast as I drank, the skin, in an attempt to keep the body regulated, would let it out through the pores. I tried cold soda and lime, plain water and even a warm masala chai. None broke the heat’s grip.
As the day moved into evening, the humidity built. Surely there would be some rain to break the heat’s back. The gift arrived a little after 8 with thunder that is unlike that at home. This thunder emerges like a roaring lion and gathers steam until there is a cannon blast that surely must be evidence that there is a war under way in the heavens. It crackles across the sky from horizon to horizon leaving no part of the countryside in silence.
And then comes the rain. Or really, nature’s shower. It falls in sheets that are so completely enveloping that the only comparison is standing in a warm shower with the water on absolute full blast. The air begins to cool and the heat slowly dissipates. Of course, you know that tomorrow it will return with a vengeance – ah but tonight you can sleep.
The power is off as the storm has created a pattern where we have seen it come and go over the past couple of hours. It too will return and the fans will run again. But it is less urgent tonight.
The day has been delicious with its richness. Heat guarantees you will pay attention – you cannot just slide through the day unaware. The rain is welcome but it too is omnipresent. The day has texture, feeling, emotion. Such is life in the tropics. My God this is wonderful indeed!
Yesterday, I followed the school bus from village to village not quite sure where I was. My only hope was paying attention to my route so that I could retrace my steps. It seemed obvious that not many strangers go through these villages. Children would run by and wave. The women gave sly smiles wondering what this strange white man was doing going through the village while the men gazed with mistrust of a stranger in their midst.
On my return trip, an elderly man waved me down in the way hitchhikers do here. He hoped on the scooter side saddle and off we went. Some twenty minutes later, we entered his village. Out came his hand signaling I should stop. Off he got and headed into a side street. He spoke no English and my 5 words of Tamil offered nothing in the circumstance. Simply 2 strangers who shared a ride. Wonderful.
Having spent 3 months here earlier this year, we found ourselves coming back to meet with old friends. The amas who look after our place, cook our meals; the massage therapist; the people who live here that we ran into. Its sort of like being back home. I think this place is much friendlier than Calgary - a statement that will no doubt land me in trouble back home.
One of the interesting things about traveling here is meeting people from various parts of the world who roam the world. At lunch today we met a Canadian who hasn't lived there for 20 years but rather lives in Japan but travels a great deal through Asia. Then there was the Brit yesterday who has no particular place that he calls home - rather it is dependent on what visa he presently has that permits him to travel wherever. He picks up work teaching English here and there as he requires money. One meets these characters daily.
Then there are the people who look for ways to volunteer during extended breaks from work. These people you meet daily as well. They have taken 3, 4, 6 and even 12 month leaves from work while they travel and volunteer. One chap I met spent a month on an organic farm in rural India with virtually nobody able to speak English - he thought it was marvelous.
Then there are the people who just pack up and leave home settling here permanently.
This guy, a permanent resident, ensured we behaved on our walk and stayed off his territory
Back in Canada, we don't get a lot of exposure to people so possessed with wanderlust. Yet, they are such fascinating individuals with stories of far away lands (well not so far away here) with hidden mysteries to be uncovered. But in it all, there is the greater mystery of self that unfolds in unexpected ways as you are faced with customs, manners and cultural behaviors that are so different. How will you adapt or not? How will you welcome the strangeness or reject it? What will shift you completely outside your comfort zone and how well can you handle that? What is predictable is that it is all unpredictable. Such is the joy of travel!
Arriving back in India has been like coming to visit an old friend. As soon as we stepped off the plane, there were the smells, the noise and the crowds – and this was at 0345. By the time we cleared immigration and found our baggage, it was 0500 and we were still a three hour taxi ride from our destination in Auroville. Fortunately, we were met by the smiling face of our now familiar driver, Chakrapani.
We are settled on our 100 cc scooters (that seem so small compared with what we are driving at home) and managing to get about.
We are again at Sharnga Guest House where we have enjoyed relations with quite wonderful staff. It is like coming back to old friends. The cook knows that I really love Biryani, a wonderful rice and chicken dish – so I was welcomed back with that for dinner. Nothing like food to make you really feel like you are in the right place.
Some rather interesting issues are being debated here. There is a fear that President Obama is about to take steps in the USA to stop outsourcing. The papers talk of his attempts to have the work done at home including the design and manufacturing of various goods. The worry here is that this will mean fewer growth opportunities for a country that has been steaming along while many in countries in the West are seen as having floundered in dangerous waters.
Another odd discussion here is that people should not follow the way of the Buddha. I was surprised to have someone tell me of this debate but he is being portrayed as a poor family man. He left his family on his spiritual quest so what kind of a role model is that? Hmm indeed. I wonder what power agenda is behind that.
The arrival of the summer monsoon is being awaited. Water levels are apparently pretty good here as there has been good rain over the past few weeks but more is sought.
I will have much more to say over the next few days now that I am beginning to convince my body that we are in a different time zone – although I note that I am writing this brief entry at 3 a.m. – the result of too much napping during the day I fear.
