the good, the bad and the ugly

having seen, and been in, all types of rooms, there is not much that surprises me these days, as far as accommodation goes. sometimes i take a room wondering about what kind of bite marks i'm going to end up with... in trivandrum, the sort of dusty, boring town where even the hotels are gloomy, i found this gem - not! - of a place that was so, so shabby that it became amusing. and for 140 rupees (less than 2 pounds) i couldn't resist but stay there.

there was a gap on the bathroom wall where the sink must have once stood and, through the corridors and balconies overlooking the inner courtyard, one could stumble on parts of furniture - couches, divans, boudoirs - that had presumably, at some point, decorated the rooms. looking down to the courtyard from outside my third floor room, a few empty plastic bottles laying on a green puddle were all that was left of a pond, and the few potted plants scattered around could only emphasize the total air of neglect that the whole compound exhaled.

nevertheless, induced by 16 hours of stiff train seats, sleep came to me that night like a blessing and i slept like a baby until the next morning.

mamallapuram

the big blue

i don't know if i can talk about my time in the andaman islands without using a load of cliches. but here it goes... in havelock, the island, i found a safe haven in what has been my closest experience to staying in a tourist beach resort. bamboo huts on stilts, by the beach, with enclosed bathrooms with the sky for a roof. the complex' restaurant serving delicious meals was the setting for new friendships that were established soon after my arrival. and with these new companions, i went on first time adventures like snorckeling in coral reefs - it was the first time i saw the bottom of the ocean, a new world opening up to me! - and bicycle rides across the island, through narrow roads sided my rice fields from which children waved shouting their hellos as we went past.

i felt happy and truly on holiday. ah, finally, the good life...

port blair

if i hadn't seen the crystal clear waters, that blur into deep blue, lining palm fringed beaches from the plane, i would've been very upset when i laid foot in port blair, the entrance point and capital of the andaman islands. to put it simply, port blair is a dump.

as there was not much to see, i decided to run a few arrons. i finished the book a was reading on the plane and foolishly failed to get myself a backup volume before leaving the mainland. unsure of what kind of books i would find, i went off on a quest for good literature. it wasn't easy - it never is - as the first challenge was to find an actual bookshop but, all things measured, it was easier then i thought. i settled for the only two english languages books that i hadn't already read. they were both by indian authors unknown to me - that know hardly anything of indian literature - and came out to be a pleasant discovery.

after that, i went to the post office to set my letters in motion. in india, anything and everything that involves beaurocracy has a lot to be said about, the post office being no exception. i've visited a few different branches, perhaps one in every town i've been so far, and so i should have got used to the way things work inside the institutional grounds. i suppose the procedure is similar to that of any other place. you go to the counter and ask for stamps or require to send a parcel. they weigh it, you pay and leave. it's that simple although never quite so simple. there is always something that gets in the way - finding the right counter, a person who understands what you say or your place in the queue - making what would otherwise be a simple affair, into an event for the day. however, after a few visits, it's not so much what happens but the settings that catch the eye. there are piles of notebooks lying about, with their strong bindings struggling to keep all the pages together. some are lucky enough to live confortably in shelves, while others are piled around or over and under desks, bits of pages sticking out, flapping to the fan generated breeze.

seeing this, i feel like a spy on a mission to report back to the west with tales of the unimaginable. i've often felt tempted to snatch up my camera but have always repressed this instinct on the grounds that i might be offending the postal workers with my judgemental gaze. however, i came to find out, surprised, the innumerous doors that open up to the sound of a digital click. it's been like this at markets, side of the road tea stalls and the odd place. it's like a magic trick that triggers smiles on the stranger's face. people seem delighted to be on the spot light and these encounters often lead to exchanges of addresses, enquiries about the traveller's life and sometimes even parting gifts: a couple of carrots, a small painted flower on the back of my hand, a jasmin garland.

this time, i filled myself with courage and asked if i could take a picture. the man on the desk said yes without giving it much thought so i took out my camera and snapped a few shots until i was interrupted by a man who walked firmly towards me. when he asked me, 'is this service very different from your country?', i thought i was going to be told off.

i replied, 'the settings are different.'

'here, we register all by hand.'

i said 'in my country it's done by computer and the parcels are usually wrapped in paper. they don't stich them.', trying to explain my curiosity. and then added, 'but the service is the same.'.

he seemed pleased, i took more pictures.

auroville

controversial as the statement could be, i dare to say that auroville is a utopia. a utopia, i found out, is a community whose modus operandi is firmly based on a certain ideology. set on the fringes of a society, it mirrors its contradictions just to find the contradictions of its own. and so, my inquisitive curiosity led me there to find out more of the rules and regulations of aurovillians; the experience of looking at others, the path to a better picture of ourselves.


established 40 years ago on what was then a desert and is now the closest thing to an oasis, auroville, in the words of the 'mother' who set the project in motion, 'wants to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. its purpose is to realise human unity.'. to this statement i would ad 'through the pursuit of knowledge'. that's all very well but, in reality, what does it mean?

well, i dared going there expecting to find a community of disillusioned hippies experimenting on sustainable living and was overwhelmed to find a level of sophistication i didn't expect to find at all in india. at first, auroville presents itself through a maze of dirt roads sided by trees, through which people circulate mainly by motorbike and scooter, but also cycling and walking. it's very low key until you come across some of the buildings. the city plan, in the shape of a galaxy, revolves around the matrimandir - a round shaped golden building that houses a silent chamber for meditation and is surrounded by peaceful gardens (pictured). everything has a strong aesthetic component which isn't a concidence. by the course of my stay i started to believe - or was remainded - that beauty plays a strong role in the elevation of the soul. i honestly felt this when i visited the matrimandir. the inside of the building is totally surreal, science fiction-like, and filled me with such extasis that i could only compare it with what i imagine the humble catholic pilgrim felt when entering the barroque cathedrals of its time.

the matrimandir, though, is only the tip of the iceberg and, although there are several other architectural gems, its in some of the projects developed here that the magic of auroville lies. entrerprises range from organic farming to language laboratories, with an emphasis on sustainable living, renewable energies and state of the art research. lots of communities have links with universities in india and elsewhere and with people who use aurovillian grounds to set in motion experiments they couldn't find resources or motivation for elsewhere. but it also aims to research and preserve traditional methods that have proven themselves against time and are used in the tamil (indian) villages around.

one particular community i visited was the sadhana forest. this project aims to reforest the area where it is set with the same indigenous trees that once abounded there. they rely on voluntary work and, after an initial personal investment, on donations. for the past 4 years, they have started to replant the 70 acres of land they acquired, doing water conservation work and practicing an eco-friendly way of life using solar energy, water resource management and composting toilets. i met aviram - who established this community with his wife and daughters - and his family on an open day, when he showed me and the other visitors around explaining what it was all about. a film night and dinner followed and there was a chance to chat with the people living there. i was really surprised to learn that osher, the eight year old daughter doesn't go to school. i asked if she was home schooled and they said 'no'. this startled me a little as i wondered what sort of doors will open to a person when they grow up if they haven't had the same opportunities as everybody else. i mean, it might be fine when you are eight, but then what? aviram must have read the aprehension in my face beacuse he went on to explain. he told me about 'learning all the time' and 'deschooling' and however strange this sounded at first, it was all very clear when i met osher and saw the whole family together. these might have been the happiest people i have met. i also find it extraordinary that this man, who had a vision of the world that was different from what he knew around him, managed to set in motion a project that fulfills the ideals he believes in. and in auroville he found the grounds where he didn't have to compromise these ideals.

so far, the aurovillian experience was already very rich but i was still to engage in my own personal development project. to the ones who've known me for a short time, this will probably come has a surprise but to the ones who've known me for longer this will come as an even bigger surprise: i came to auroville determined to master the art of bicycle riding. for me, the game of pedaling has always been daunting but, in the city where everyone moves around on two wheels, i decided it was time to face the challenge. in the guest house where i stayed, besides lodging, laundry and 3 meals a day, they also give you a bicycle and, with this i set off in my task to learn how to ride. i'm not going to dwell on the fascinating details of how i got my legs full of bruises, suffice to say that wobbly as i am, i managed. and i am proud.

tonight, new age music

the typewritten sign read CONCERT. 8:30 PM. ALL MUSIC LOVERS WELCOME. i went.
the gate was open into the courtyard. there was a pond and then some steps raising up to the entrance sheltered by a portico with great columns. 3 plastic chairs were outside facing the steps and, on the landing above, a young man sitting at a desk and a couple more chairs scattered around.
an old man arrived on a bycicle wearing a conspicuosly short pair of white shorts. he walked and he was all brown legs. he climbed the steps, went through a ritual of turning lights on, off and on again, opened the panned glass door and went into the building. he went about busily and i wondered if he would be performing tonight. when he emerged from the inside building, by pressing another switch, he lit up the fish tank that had been discretely on the corner behing the desk. in the milky waters, a trout-like fish waves its shiny body gently.
at this point, the audience consisted of a very old man wrapped in shawls who sat in one of the plastic stairs. every other minute he tucked his scarf as if at any moment of the torrid evening he could be afflicted by a cold breeze. two more men arrived and found their places in the remaining chairs on the landing. i cannot anticipate what is going to happen.
the lights are turned off. the music starts but no one is playing. this is no magical trick - or perhaps, it is? - instead, the music is being delivered by the two speakers that were yet unnoticed hanging on the wall opposite the desk.
i guess in india, this could as well be a concert.

in paradise

i left the cool mountains of kodaikanal after having been ill for 2 days heading to madurai where i would get the train to cochin on the west coast. the bus ride was only 3 hours but in this short period of time the temperature increased by about 15 degrees. when i arrived in madurai it was torrid, noisy and busy. i easily found a hotel in the center which was surprinsingly nice. the only catch was that everytime there was a power cut, and there were many, all the town's generators would start their roar in unison reverberating through all surfaces to reach my ears.

i was set to travelling south to cochin, in the state of kerala, in the vague hope i could finally go to the beach. but then i got a message from elodie saying that she and her friends would be in pondicherry at the weekend. after spending all this time on the road with very little company, the thought of meeting a familiar face was very appealing so i went to the train station and got myself a ticket to leave to pondycherry the next morning.

this turned out to be a really good decision. the train journey an absolute joy - the people sitting next to me were very friendly and shared their newspapers. we discussed politics and indian customs and they asked many questions about the differences between my country and theirs. after, the man sitting next to me insisted i'd share his home-cooked breakfast and didn't let me leave the train without a handful of chikoos (a fruit) from his garden.

and then i arrived in pondicherry. how to start? pondicherry is a former french colony which is immediately noticeable in the architecture and in the city's planning. it's very clean, the streets are wide and sided by trees which provides a great relief from the blazing sun. and then, lots of people speak french.

i went to the guest house where my friends were staying - the most charming and homely place i've stayed in so far! - left my stuff and went to meet them. the manager of the guest house offered me a lift on his scooter - wind in my hair! - and dropped me at the meeting point. i met my friends, and their friends - so many nice people! - and we got the boat to go to the beach. sun, sand, water, heat, summer in all its splendour! and the best company, too. i swam - pure bliss! - and chatted and slowly got to know these people with whom i'd spend some of the best days of my stay in india so far...

at the end of the day, when i was leaving on the boat, i looked back and noticed the signpost written in big letters: welcome to paradise beach.