The vast majority was spent in transit. In fact, I think they only day I did no traveling at all was when I visited Nandana's village. Immediately after my class party, I hopped a night bus down to Delhi. In Delhi, I took the brand new airport metro line straight from the bus stand, and got on a plane south.
I thought I would play it smart and get to the airport nice and early, but when I arrived at the check-in counter, they said that if I had taken my flight to Mangalore via Mumbai as planned, I wouldn't make my connection in the layover, so they quickly switched me to an earlier flight via Bangalore, that was loading that very moment. I tore through the Delhi airport and got onto my plane, with a pit stop at a vending machine to get some potato chips for my 'breakfast'. The rest of my trip went well, and I arrived in Mangalore with no troubles at all. The instant I stepped off the plane I was struck by the intense heat and humidity, which only got worse all week.
The following day, I got up and headed to the train station and bought myself a ticket to Payyanur, the closest city to where Nandana lives. In hindsight, I should have bought a ticket for sleeper class (which has assigned seats even if you're not sleeping) instead of getting the cheaper general ticket. I walked up and down the platform, trying to find the general coach (I now know that all unmarked cars are general), and finally gave up and asked a man who worked there. He pointed me towards the ladies' car. Really, it was only half of a car, with seating room enough for sixteen ladies. It is as if they assume that, in a train for hundreds of passengers, no ladies would ever think of traveling alone. Needless to say, more ladies than that came on to ride there. I managed to get a seat, and we squished more ladies than there were room for on our bench. Some smaller women and children were able to sit on the luggage racks above, while others stood or sat in the aisles. The ride took about two hours, and all the women were infinitely patient with my constant questions of “Is this one Payyanur? Is the next one Payyanur?”
One interesting thing that I saw happen on the train was that there was a girl, probably a bit younger than me. I suspect she was a college student in Mangalore. She was dressed in a pretty, colorful salwar kameez, but as we neared her stop, she put on a black dupata, stowing her colorful one in her purse. Then she pulled out a long black fasten-up dress and put that on over her outfit. Lastly, she wrapped that black dupata around her head and pinned it in place as a head scarf. By the time she got off, she was dressed as a perfectly modest Muslim girl. It makes me wonder if her family is conservative and she must dress that way in her own town, but feels like being more progressive in her dress when she is out. Very intriguing.
In Payyanur, I stayed in a lovely four-star hotel. What a four-star hotel is doing in the middle of rural Kerala, I can't say, but it was very nice. The next morning, a car came for me and took me to Nandana's village.
It was a lovely ride, about an hour long. When I arrived at the local Compassion Center, Nandana, her family, and a few staff members were there to greet me, by a huge sign greeting me. Nandana put a huge garland of flowers around my neck and her mother handed me an equally huge bouquet of flowers. They invited me inside the center for chai, biscuits, and chatting. Nandana is not quite eight years old, and is among the shyest little girls I have ever met. She often had to be goaded into speaking, only to whisper something to the translator or her mother.
We then walked to their home, which was only a very short stroll away. They showed me the gum trees that they farmed, their fruit, their cows, and their bucket well. Their house is a lovely, big, old house, but it houses their full extended family. They gave me a little tour around the house and introduced all the members of their family. Nandana and her parents sleep together in a room that is barely bigger than the small double bed it houses. My Christmas gift this year went to purchasing that mattress. On the bed-side table was a blown-up version of a wallet photo of my brother and I. That was really touching to see there, in such a place of honor. It also amazed me how they all knew the names of everyone in my family off-hand.
I sat with the family for a while ate fruit, and had my very first young cocoanut of my time in India. When not totally ripe, the juice inside is at its best, apparently. The chopped off the top and stuck in a straw for me to drink. Nandana sung me a song about a parrot, and I sung her a song back, the style of which made some of her family members giggle. Indian's tend to find classical singing and vibrato hilarious. I taught Nandana and her mother to make paper cranes, and they in turn taught me to make paper boats.
Then it was time for us to return to the center for lunch. What I ate that day, was probably the best meal I have ever had in India. South Indian dishes are a bit spicier, but they involve lots of cocoanut. There was a chicken curry, dry chicken, baked fish, green beans with cocoanut, and even a beef curry. These are Christians, so they can eat beef on a clear conscience, unlike most other Indians. It was absolutely amazing.
After lunch, I got to meet a number of the other children who participate at the center, as well as the women who work as child counselors there. It seems like these ladies act both as sorts of teachers as well as emotional counselors for the children. They support and talk to the children to make sure everything is going well in their lives and help them through their struggles. We went into their church building and a number of the children came up and did little impromptu performances for me, including Nandana. Meanwhile, the fact that I was wearing a proper salwar kameez was causing quite a stir. Two girls did some classical dancing, while others sang, and Nandana and her friend did a comedy skit, which I didn't understand at all. It makes me wish I also understood Malayalum, the local language. Nandana was much bolder, smiling and letting go, with her friends around. Then they rounded on me and told me to do a dance. So, stumped, I decided to teach them the Macarena. They thought it was amazing and hilarious. I sang another song for them, during which there was definitely a lot of giggling, and then it was time for me to go.
I was incredibly blessed to have this chance to meet Nandana and see where she lives. If all goes well, I hope to be sponsoring her for another ten years, until she graduates from the program. The centers and they ways they are run really impress me. They are like our knowledge centers in Jagori, only so much better run, with so many more children. The children I saw there exuded more confidence and more smiles that kids I have seen anywhere else in rural India. I can't make a before and after comparison, but Compassion seems to doing something great in their lives, and I am glad to be a part of it.
The following days, I did a little sari shopping in Payyanur before I had to catch the night train to Trivandrum. The manager of the center, also the priest of the church attached to it, had been unable to be there for my visit, so he offered to come and say hello that night and then drive me to the train station when it was time for me go. He brought his wife and little daughter as long as well. He wanted to know about my visit, but even more, he wanted to know about my general experience in India and what I do up here in Himachal. We talked a long time about my English classes and teaching techniques, and I ended up exchanging contact information with him so that when I get my teaching materials consolidated, I can send him sample activities and lesson plans to use with the children there.
The night train was uneventful. I shared my compartment with a young family, who were polite to me. I slept well through the night and then arrived in Trivandrum in the morning. After showering at my hotel, I spent the day exploring the city, largely in their Zooilogical Gardens. There was a surprisingly good zoo there, lovely flowers, a so-so art museum, and lots of ice cream. Then I went silk shopping. South India has beautiful, cheap silks, and I managed to find some that I was looking for for almost $1 per meter. I am kicking myself now that I'm back in Himachal for not buying more.
The next morning, I flew back to Delhi to spend some time with Devika. As we landed in Delhi and the plane door opened, a stewardess announced over the intercom, “Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen. Sri Lanka is batting, and it is thirty-two for one.” Everyone cheered. It was, after all, the Cricket World Cup finals, and every eye and ear in India was on the game. Back at Devika's house, we spent the night watching the game. India won, finishing with a spectacular hit, soaring into the stands.
The next day, I went shopping with Devika for clothes and origami paper, and then it was time for me to get on a bus again. When I arrived at the bus terminal, it was immediately obvious that my bus wasn't there yet. When asked, one man behind the counter said that our bus was broken down and wasn't coming, but another man insisted that it was coming and everything would be alright. As it turns out, the bus was broken, and it did not come, but everyone did turn out alright. Everyone with a ticket for the Volvo bus was instructed to sell it back and then buy a ticket for the TATA bus, which was going. It was chaotic in the extreme, but in the end, everyone got a seat. My seat mate was a friendly girl from Hyderbad named Shweta who was moving up to Dharmsala to work with a handicrafts organization for a while. We chatted a bunch and then exchanged phone numbers before we parted ways in the morning.
And so I arrived safely back in Himachal Pradesh, ready to finish up my last month here.
YAY i'm so glad you had a fulfilling trip to Kerala! It's beautiful down there, eh? Good luck with finishing up your fellowship, Jenna :)
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