Other than comfortable floors, Jodhpur has a massive fort which is in the centre of the city. It was built by a Hindi head of a clan and has never been conquered from the outside. Its narrow alleys reminds me somewhat of the old town in Stockholm. Although here the houses have a light screaming blue colour instead of a shady grey like most are in Stockholm. Rightfullt called ‘the blue city’ it really is one of many “colourful” cities here in Rajastan. Another one is ‘the golden city’, Jaisalmer (which also happens to host a massive fort!).

Other than forts, Rajastans main features are folk dances, remains of old maharajas and colours in plenty. Although it was interesting to note that there are some major differences here compared to the south. For example, the women wear their sarees differently, often covering their head. I have also learnt about the many varations of rickshaws. Apparently there is not just one or two designs of this three wheeled black and yellow vehicle, but an endeless amount. Other then size variations (some are narrow and tall while others are fat and short) there are these small details that vary in almost every place we have been so far. In mumbai there were simply no rickshaws, in Udaipur they were tall and narrow and in Jodhpur they had silver coloured railings. Talk about being innovative.

Other than enjoying the defense tactics of the old Maharajas (not just kings, rajas, but Great Kings) me and Stine explored the lake by boat and then the touristy part of the town where we did some shopping. This kind of behaviour does however have its consequence. When you start your almost one month travelling with more than 20 kg in your backpack, adding more to it is not always the best idea. In the battle between my back and my money, my back won the trophy. So I took out approximately 7 kg (7.101) and took a stroll to the post office.

Posting things in India can be a very difficult process. In Gauribidanur, when I wanted to send off a small parcel with 2,5 kg we first went to the office, thinking they might have an envelope of box we could buy. Which apparently was a stupid thought since they seemed rather amused by us asking. So then we got our own box (a la Kingfisher, the one and only beer in India), put the things in it and went back. The manager shook his head. Noooo we were supposed to use fabric. So we went to the tailor. Back at the post office the manager again shook his head. Noooo you need a box and fabric wrapped around it. When we, a couple of rounds later back and forth in and out of town (you need the an Indian ‘from’ address, the package has to be open when you get to the office etc etc), finally had packed the parcel in the right way and went back to the office the manager once again shook his head. After crying out a frustrated ‘whyyyy’ he explained that it was after 1.30 p.m. They did not send things after 1.30 despite being open until 5 p.m. It is quite fascinating how much petrol we used to send that one tiny parcel!

Fearing we would have the same problems here we were out in good time. But when we got to the post office here in Udaipur we were provided with a tailor who fixed both the boxes and the fabric around it and all they did was ask for our passport number. When we asked her where we should write the Indian ‘from’ address she looked at us, very confused. Noooo miss. Only passport number. A surprisingly short amount of time later we walked out of there, pleased to know that we had sent our big parcels and now have extremely much lighter bags to carry!

Jodhpur, here we come!

* … know you are in a big city in India
you see an endless number of huge and tall apartment buildings (with and without holes) more than an hour before you have reached the central bus and train station

* … know that you are in the capital of Bollywood
a man sticks his head into the taxi while you are paying the driver (who has just dropped you off at the hostel where you will be staying) and asks you if you want to act as an extra in a movie the next day

* … get around in areas where there are no rickshaws
in the posh area (the area where an apartment with three rooms costs about 20 million SEK and where ironically the cheapest hostel in town happens to be situated) there are no rickshaws! To replace them there are instead ‘normal’ taxis which are about three times as expensive. But don’t worry, they are still black with a yellow roof.

* … recognise a tourist
if he or she is wearing alibaba pants, carrying a copy of Lonely Planet, living in a cheap dorm in a posh area, carrying around a heavy backpack and taking pictures of everything nearby you have yourself a probably not so fresh tourist!

Monkey drinking Maaza

The next day we took a half day trip to Old Goa, about 30 minutes away with a bus. In Old Goa there is one thing and one thing only: Churches! And there are loads of them! If you enjoy architecture and history (which I, in my sightseeing-mode, do) it is really nice to take a stroll among these different places of worship.  What we however did not count on before we set out on our tour was the weather. Goa has since I was there last time had some drastic changes when it comes to the weather. Instead of being nice and warm I found myself melting like an ice cream. Sweat poured out of me like a fountain (and although you do sort of get used to sweating constantly you are not used to that!) and that was when I realised the beauty of AC! Surprisingly solid a couple of hours later, when we got on a bus, it felt nice to leave Humid Town and enter Maharashtra, a much cooler area.

The Virupaksha Temple

Although it is very commercialized (which in India means loads of ‘come look my shop’ and ‘come please sit’), it is not difficult to find a place with some peace and quiet. As you walk away from the area where the main guests houses are situated and towards the many temples and ruins to the south, you get to Sule Bazaar. This is Old Hampi’s commercial centre and the long corridor has a huge monolithic bull statue on one side and the great, 50 metre (!) high, Virupaksha Temple on the other side. Over the hill just behind the monolithic bull statue there is another temple site that I though was the most beautiful one. Although maybe it was because there I, yesterday found my peace and quiet.

Sule Bazaar

Anjanadri Hill (the white thing is the Hanuman Temple)

Today I however did something different than the ‘normal’ temple sightseeing. Up and checked out of Gopi Guest House (Lonely Planet recommended – all the guests have their own copy) at 9 a.m., I started walking towards the opposite direction of Hampi Bazaar, towards the Tungabhadra river. After taking the small boat across I then started The Walk. The Walk took me through the guest house area Virupapur Gaddi and up towards the highway towards Anegundi, a small village about five or seven (depending on who you ask) kilometers away. Although it was my plan to walk all the way to the village and back I must admit that the heat took the best of me. Three kilometres (and an innumerable amount of sweating) later I reached Anjanadri hill. On top of this hill (read: mountain) sits the Hanuman temple. If you accidentally happened to read the Hindu story Ramayana as a cartoon when you were a child (no? only me then?) you know that Hanuman is the monkey god who assisted in Rama’s mission against the evil Ravana. The temple is supposed to be the birth place of Hanuman and to get there you have to walk (read: climb) up 570 steps.

One thing I also noticed was how surprisingly many senior Indians that climbed up these steps, all to see the temple (which consisted of a tree with ribbons and a hut with a devotional). Although they weren’t the fastest they were definitely the most hard working in climbing these stairs. Which, obviously, gave me all the more reason to do this. I mean how would it look if a 65 year old and fragile man climbed those stairs but a 19 year old and (supposedly) healthy young woman did not?

The view from Sai Plaza retsaurant

Nevertheless, I was quite tired when I had walked back to Virupapur Gaddi and as a rewards I took a nice and long rest at Sai Plaza restaurant (where they had a very tasty baguette sandwich, a very rare thing in India).

About five hours later I was sitting on a semi uncomfortable sleeper bus in Hospet, on my way to continue my travels. Next stop: Panaji!

Before the whole ‘saree-building’ process starts you need to put on the petticoat and the top (or blouse). This blouse will sit tighter than anything you have ever worn around your chest and it will take some serious skills to button this over your breasts (the place where your chest is the widest). Now when you start wrapping the actual saree around yourself, you have to start at the right place, just a little to the left of your bellybutton. There you stick in the fabric and continue doing so until you have wrapped it around you one time. That was the easy part. Now you have to, skillfully, wrap the rest around you, but just so that there is enough fabric hanging down from your shoulder, without messing up the heaps of fabric that will be hanging loosely, waiting for you to tie it up into a nice bundle and tuck it in under your bellybutton.

Let’s just say it took me five times before I could put it on by myself. And then, according to my host mother, it was still not ‘nicely wrapped’.

Wearing a saree makes you feel like a mix of a queen and a present. There are so many layers of fabric wrapped around you but it looks so beautiful with all the patterns (unless you have, unwisely, chosen one of the few ugly ones that look like a curtain or a carpet). Maybe it is just me and the fact that I am not so used to wearing long skirts but it was so difficult to walk around in it casually. How Indian women do hard labour (like road building, washing or working in the field) in this kind of clothing (which they do) is a mystery to me. Also, I don’t think I have ever seen an Indian woman fall because she accidentally stepped on her saree! Which is extremely impressive, especially when they are running in it.

My host mother, me in a saree and Manu, another German volunteer

Rajesh and Shiva

Today is my last day in Gangasandra and Gurney Boarding Home. Right now it feels like I am ready to move on, to open up my eyes and see some other parts of India! Although Gangasandra and Gauribidanur are two nice places the one thing I will miss the most is the kids! Without them I a convinced I would never have been able to go through with these three months. It is quite ironic because even though I am there as their teacher or tutor it feels like they have taken on that role to much a greater extent than I have. I will really miss them (all 22 of them!) and their cute smiles!

Francis and Hemmuth

French boutique

The next and last stop on our small trip was Pondicherry. After reading the Lonley Planet travel guide for South India (the Bible of all backpackers) our expectations were literally at rock bottom. Maybe it was because of this but in the end it turned out to be our favourite stop on this five day trip. Or maybe it was because the beautiful buildings on the east side of town, just by the Bay of Bengal, were very alike the ones in a small picturesque French town (with the explanation that Pondicherry is an old French colony and has hence left this little European touch behind).

Paradise Beach

After two very efficient days full of sightseeing me and Stine both felt that we deserved a little rest these last two days. Said and done we made our way through the city where we then took a boat to Paradise Beach, a small oasis in the backwaters of Pondicherry. In India it can sometimes feel impossible to get away and to be alone (there are, after all, quite many Indians – for example, Bangalore has a population of more than nine million people. That’s the whole of Sweden’s population growded together in one city!). Which, apart from its beauty, was what made this place a real paradise. With silence and calm as the main factors we spent out day relaxing on the beach.

Mahatma Gandhi statue in Pondicherry

The following day was sightseeing day and we spent it walking through Pondicherry (or at least the east side of it) and walking in and out of of ashrams or buildings where ‘ashram’ was a part of the name (which, incidentally, there are quite many of).

For our last night we decided we wanted to do something special. At around 6 a.m. we got out of bed, went down to the beach and watched the sunrise. Ironically though we didn’t see all of it, since there was a big, fat cloud in the way. But it was nice and very beautiful anyway. My favourite part was the hot chocolate we had afterwards at a cafe nearby.

Sunrise

1) Spiders (I have about 50 of those with a really small body and long, thin legs)

2) Insects (there are so many different kinds – half of the time I don’t even know what it is)

3) Larvae (the other day I found one about 7 cm long and with a huge and pointy tail thing – that I suspect is used for stinging its enemies – walking around on my floor)

4) Lizards (although, to be fair, they are not just in my room but also everywhere else in the house)

5) Mice (see earlier post about the mice babies)

6) Squirrels (I currently have two of them walking around on the boards on the ceiling from time to time)

7) Kittens (the newest addition to our small farm. All I can say is: mice – watch out!)