4pm approached and I was in the arrival hall. There weren’t a lot of people waiting so I had full view of the gates and the entrance doors. I knew that within minutes the family would walk out and at the same time my brother-in-laws would walk in the entrance doors. And I’m standing there, sweating buckets (even though it was only 5 degrees). I was having hot flushes and was dying to tell everyone that I was about to surprise the family by coming home after a year of being on the road, unannounced. But I didn’t. I just waited and waited and jumped for joy inside.
And then it happened. My mam walked out, I left my luggage unattended (oops) and ran towards her, hugging and hugging her for ages… My little sister didn’t know what was happening, and the brother-in-laws – who had also just arrived - were even more confused… ‘Where did you come from?!?!? Weren’t you supposed to be in… some place in Asia???’ There was so much happening, so much explaining, so much hugging, so many people… all quite overwhelming.
We drove to Hulst and in the car, I felt to be vomiting words… I talked and talked and talked… it was all just ‘bla bla’… and, on reflection, this showed that I hadn’t been chatting freely with people for quite a few months. Everyone just let me chat and chat… without interrupting… Wouw such ‘freedom of speech’ was the biggest treat! Once I’d surprised the sisters - who were shocked and even shed some tears of joy - I started to run out of steam. Come to think of it, I didn’t arrive with a huge amount of energy to start with, after travelling continuously and having passed through various timezones. I was more frazzled than I’ve been in a long long time… I didn’t know what day it was, or what time it was supposed to be according to my bodyclock. Everything was ‘out of whack’…
Needless to say that being apart of a family, with 14 members, was quite a big adjustment. I didn’t expect to get so absorbed in their lives. Or, actually, I did, but I didn’t expect for it to take its toll on me so much. At times I struggled when dealing with the amount of people around me, who I was able to understand and communicate freely with. My head spun on many an occasion as I tried to keep up with the haste of their days. I became apart of only their world and because I wasn’t on top of the jetlag and not full of a huge amount of energy, I felt distant from my own world. I was overwhelmed many times and I felt to be losing myself. I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t on my blog… why not? Due to a frazzled head that couldn’t think properly. Nor did that head dare to make sense of the events that had come to pass. The time in Holland was really like being in transition… I knew it was only temporary and a sense of ‘me’ would soon return. So I did all I could to keep ‘with it’. I spent precious time with my nieces and nephews, with my sisters, with the family. I shared the most important things with them before it was time to move onwards to Ireland.
On Wednesday it was time for me to leave. It’s always sad to say goodbye to my sisters and their kids of course. But I needed to move forward, because movement felt to have stopped whilst I was there. I knew that there were things waiting for me in Ireland. I needed space to clear my head and to get passed the jetlag. I needed to focus my mind again on the things that would bring me towards new experiences. I needed to get to the place where everything felt to be happening for me. And that was Arklow in county Wicklow, Ireland. I never ever thought I’d hear my speak these words, or write them… but it’s how it is right now; this is where I need to be and it feels amazing.
Showing posts with label Mumbai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mumbai. Show all posts
Friday, February 24, 2012
Surprising Home!
Holland: I’ve been and gone… but still the journey beforehand and the stop itself needs to be jotted down.
It only took me 6 days to get from Kayamkulam to Hulst (which is the town in Holland where my sisters live): 2 nights on a train, 1 night in a hostel, 1 night in an airport, 1 night in something of a 5 star hotel and on day 6 I arrived at the airport in Brussels, Belgium (which is only an hour from Hulst). To summarize it differently; 40 hours on a train, 36 hours in Mumbai, 12 hours at the airport, 6 hours on a plane, 22 hours in Egypt, 5 hours on a plane… and Brussels ‘suddenly’ greeted me.
The most memorable parts of this whole 6 day journey were when I had 2 separate conversations at Mumbai airport, with an Indian man and a Chinese man. With both I ended up chatting for ages about my Indian experiences, my Chinese experiences, my likes, my dislikes, together with the comparisons and annoyances that I’d come to deal with in both countries. It was the perfect way to spend my last few hours in India; summarizing the past year (almost to the exact date) - with 2 men who were native to each country. As well it was good for me to hear myself speak about the adventures. Because sometimes, most times, I wouldn’t realize just how much has happened and how much my life has changed since leaving home nearly 365 days ago.
Another highlight of the trip was on Thursday. I had a stop over in Cairo, Egypt. I expected to be waiting at the airport for 22 hours for my connecting flight to Brussels the following morning. I expected to be sleeping on bench in the waiting hall. But nope! The airline was offering a hotel for the night, to all passengers who were in transit… COMPLEMENTARY! Wouw… and what a hotel this was… it was huge, not too sure how many stars… but judging by the customers and the service that was provided… holy moly… it must have been at least 5 stars! To me, it felt to be luxury of the highest degree… (all organized by Egypt Air!!!!) I had a private room, clean sheets, double bed, en-suite bathroom (with a bathtub!!!), internet, movies and 3 meals included (a buffet serving the most delicious fresh foods…all you can eat). I was in heaven… moving onwards to Holland.
But still nobody knew of my whereabouts. I hadn’t written about my exact plan of action on my blog, as I wanted to surprise everyone. By Thursday I knew I couldn’t keep my mam in the dark any longer. She was getting worried; she knew my visa was expiring the following day. It’s only natural for her to – literally – be wondering where on earth Niamh is! So from that place, on Thursday afternoon, I decided to finally contact her and tell her I’d be seeing her in 24 hours time!
I was full of so much excitement, squealing down the laptop: ‘I’m in Egypt!’ This was quite an unexpected place for me to be (especially when I’d only been talking of travelling to Nepal or South East Asia). But once I ran through my plans and the route of my trip, things started to make sense. Cool… my mother was ecstatic, and she only told my younger brother. She kept my sisters in the dark. The following day, my mam, brother, sister and nephew, were flying from Dublin to Brussels too (coincidentally they were flying into the same airport). They were visiting my sisters in Holland for the christening of my niece. I knew this was a big celebration and it was the reason for stopping in Holland before heading onwards to Ireland. But I didn’t know the ‘brady brunch’ from Ireland would be landing in the same airport only 2 hours after my flight was to arrive. Brilliant!
The thoughts of seeing the family again, got me so excited and I couldn’t believe I was going to be returning unannounced again… The last time I came back (in July 2010), nobody knew about it either. I rocked up on the doorstep, shocking the life out of my 2 sisters in Holland. This was going to be a dejavu! Yes!
The night at the hotel was so nice, even though I had a hard time getting proper rest (so much was happening and racing through my mind - I felt it hard to contain myself). The next morning, I had the 5 hour flight and onboard I was already feeling the ease that comes when being in the west. I was hearing European languages around me, I was blending in with the crowds and was free from the stares… How nice! I landed at 2pm and had 2 hours to wait before the others would land. They (aswell as I) were being collected by my 2 brother in laws…
So I waited in excitement. I sat and had my first cappuccino in a café and was excitedly doing some writing. I was nervous too. But it wasn’t only for seeing the family again. It was for realizing that by heading to Ireland I was taking the risk I’d been so scared of actually facing. The fear of actually doing what I need; totally focussing on writing, I was facing it. But the nerves and excitement made me feel alive. I wasn’t worried at all. I knew, as I sat in that café with my cappuccino, that I was at the start of something big.
It only took me 6 days to get from Kayamkulam to Hulst (which is the town in Holland where my sisters live): 2 nights on a train, 1 night in a hostel, 1 night in an airport, 1 night in something of a 5 star hotel and on day 6 I arrived at the airport in Brussels, Belgium (which is only an hour from Hulst). To summarize it differently; 40 hours on a train, 36 hours in Mumbai, 12 hours at the airport, 6 hours on a plane, 22 hours in Egypt, 5 hours on a plane… and Brussels ‘suddenly’ greeted me.
The most memorable parts of this whole 6 day journey were when I had 2 separate conversations at Mumbai airport, with an Indian man and a Chinese man. With both I ended up chatting for ages about my Indian experiences, my Chinese experiences, my likes, my dislikes, together with the comparisons and annoyances that I’d come to deal with in both countries. It was the perfect way to spend my last few hours in India; summarizing the past year (almost to the exact date) - with 2 men who were native to each country. As well it was good for me to hear myself speak about the adventures. Because sometimes, most times, I wouldn’t realize just how much has happened and how much my life has changed since leaving home nearly 365 days ago.
Another highlight of the trip was on Thursday. I had a stop over in Cairo, Egypt. I expected to be waiting at the airport for 22 hours for my connecting flight to Brussels the following morning. I expected to be sleeping on bench in the waiting hall. But nope! The airline was offering a hotel for the night, to all passengers who were in transit… COMPLEMENTARY! Wouw… and what a hotel this was… it was huge, not too sure how many stars… but judging by the customers and the service that was provided… holy moly… it must have been at least 5 stars! To me, it felt to be luxury of the highest degree… (all organized by Egypt Air!!!!) I had a private room, clean sheets, double bed, en-suite bathroom (with a bathtub!!!), internet, movies and 3 meals included (a buffet serving the most delicious fresh foods…all you can eat). I was in heaven… moving onwards to Holland.
But still nobody knew of my whereabouts. I hadn’t written about my exact plan of action on my blog, as I wanted to surprise everyone. By Thursday I knew I couldn’t keep my mam in the dark any longer. She was getting worried; she knew my visa was expiring the following day. It’s only natural for her to – literally – be wondering where on earth Niamh is! So from that place, on Thursday afternoon, I decided to finally contact her and tell her I’d be seeing her in 24 hours time!
I was full of so much excitement, squealing down the laptop: ‘I’m in Egypt!’ This was quite an unexpected place for me to be (especially when I’d only been talking of travelling to Nepal or South East Asia). But once I ran through my plans and the route of my trip, things started to make sense. Cool… my mother was ecstatic, and she only told my younger brother. She kept my sisters in the dark. The following day, my mam, brother, sister and nephew, were flying from Dublin to Brussels too (coincidentally they were flying into the same airport). They were visiting my sisters in Holland for the christening of my niece. I knew this was a big celebration and it was the reason for stopping in Holland before heading onwards to Ireland. But I didn’t know the ‘brady brunch’ from Ireland would be landing in the same airport only 2 hours after my flight was to arrive. Brilliant!
The thoughts of seeing the family again, got me so excited and I couldn’t believe I was going to be returning unannounced again… The last time I came back (in July 2010), nobody knew about it either. I rocked up on the doorstep, shocking the life out of my 2 sisters in Holland. This was going to be a dejavu! Yes!
The night at the hotel was so nice, even though I had a hard time getting proper rest (so much was happening and racing through my mind - I felt it hard to contain myself). The next morning, I had the 5 hour flight and onboard I was already feeling the ease that comes when being in the west. I was hearing European languages around me, I was blending in with the crowds and was free from the stares… How nice! I landed at 2pm and had 2 hours to wait before the others would land. They (aswell as I) were being collected by my 2 brother in laws…
So I waited in excitement. I sat and had my first cappuccino in a café and was excitedly doing some writing. I was nervous too. But it wasn’t only for seeing the family again. It was for realizing that by heading to Ireland I was taking the risk I’d been so scared of actually facing. The fear of actually doing what I need; totally focussing on writing, I was facing it. But the nerves and excitement made me feel alive. I wasn’t worried at all. I knew, as I sat in that café with my cappuccino, that I was at the start of something big.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Some last notes from India - goodbye for now
Another thing I noticed was that there are so many men!!!!! Today I’ve seen thousands and thousands and thousands of male Indians, but I spotted only a handful of women! What a strange thing. Where are they all? Are they safely at home, cooking, cleaning and looking after the kids, while the men work hard out on the streets, trying to earn a few rupees by either scamming the tourists, or maintaining the roads, or sweeping the dirt, or pushing carts, or making their greasy delicacies??? I guess so…
I must admit I felt this to be a real mans world, this Mumbai. But it didn’t bother me too much and I wasn’t phased by their harsh approach that dominates absolutely everything in the city. I wasn’t daunted by their glares and I didn’t get annoyed once. I didn’t feel the way I’ve felt on a daily basis in Kerala, when the stares would come. Nope. Today I found it normal for them to look. I could understand why the men would be appalled to see a ‘young’ foreign girl ON HER OWN, wandering the streets of Mumbai, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I can understand the disgust of these men, towards me. I know it’s nothing personal… and I know it’s because their own wives and daughters would never ever be permitted such freedom. So, I was fine, I was wary and yes, I felt that the stares were justified, so I wasn’t frustrated. And because most of the men were all very tough, harsh and unable to speak English, I became more friendly and appreciative when some of them DID have some friendliness to share with me. Yes, it was a very different experience. Maybe because it’s my last day, maybe it’s because I realize how inexperienced I really am. Yes, I realize how little I know about countries, about travel, about customs, and about the religions that dominate the minds of the millions and millions of people.
After today and my short encounter with Mumbai, I can’t say I’ve lost any love for India at all. Instead I’ve probably gained more inspiration for the diversity that’s here and more of a willingness to learn, to see, to experience and to document their lives (for some strange reason). Today has made me want to return of course and to explore beyond Kerala. Today has also made me want to connect with people again from other places other than India.
So I’m feeling better about leaving, compared to the last time. I don’t mind moving on, and I know for a fact I’ll return. I also know for a fact that now it’s time to leave. So I’m happy. I took the last rickshaw from the station to the airport. He overcharged me, but I didn’t care… I loved every minute of the ride and when I paid him, I didn’t throw the money at him (like I did to the rickshaw driver back in July 2010 who also overcharged me for the same ride). Nope. I gave it to him and thanked him, I told him how much I loved his country and that I would be back. He didn’t understand English, but I think he got my drift…
So this was my goodbye to India for the 2nd time round… I wonder when the next time will be. I’ll never stop looking forward.
I must admit I felt this to be a real mans world, this Mumbai. But it didn’t bother me too much and I wasn’t phased by their harsh approach that dominates absolutely everything in the city. I wasn’t daunted by their glares and I didn’t get annoyed once. I didn’t feel the way I’ve felt on a daily basis in Kerala, when the stares would come. Nope. Today I found it normal for them to look. I could understand why the men would be appalled to see a ‘young’ foreign girl ON HER OWN, wandering the streets of Mumbai, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I can understand the disgust of these men, towards me. I know it’s nothing personal… and I know it’s because their own wives and daughters would never ever be permitted such freedom. So, I was fine, I was wary and yes, I felt that the stares were justified, so I wasn’t frustrated. And because most of the men were all very tough, harsh and unable to speak English, I became more friendly and appreciative when some of them DID have some friendliness to share with me. Yes, it was a very different experience. Maybe because it’s my last day, maybe it’s because I realize how inexperienced I really am. Yes, I realize how little I know about countries, about travel, about customs, and about the religions that dominate the minds of the millions and millions of people.
After today and my short encounter with Mumbai, I can’t say I’ve lost any love for India at all. Instead I’ve probably gained more inspiration for the diversity that’s here and more of a willingness to learn, to see, to experience and to document their lives (for some strange reason). Today has made me want to return of course and to explore beyond Kerala. Today has also made me want to connect with people again from other places other than India.
So I’m feeling better about leaving, compared to the last time. I don’t mind moving on, and I know for a fact I’ll return. I also know for a fact that now it’s time to leave. So I’m happy. I took the last rickshaw from the station to the airport. He overcharged me, but I didn’t care… I loved every minute of the ride and when I paid him, I didn’t throw the money at him (like I did to the rickshaw driver back in July 2010 who also overcharged me for the same ride). Nope. I gave it to him and thanked him, I told him how much I loved his country and that I would be back. He didn’t understand English, but I think he got my drift…
So this was my goodbye to India for the 2nd time round… I wonder when the next time will be. I’ll never stop looking forward.
Some last notes from India
Still sitting at the airport (the 15th)...
Today I was taking on the street-life of Mumbai. I checked out of the guest house this morning at 9am, I had no choice but to roam the city for the day. And holy smoke, what a city this is! Without any map, or any plans or any lists of what tourist sights I should be seeing, I started roaming and the day turned out to be a long, tiring and oh so revealing one. I stayed in the same neighbourhood of the guest house, just to avoid getting lost, as I didn’t have a map (I’m not even sure what part of the city I was in) By roaming in such a purposeless manner, I was presented with a different side of India. I felt as though I was in another country that just so happened to have the same name as the country I was in only 3 days ago.
I know this city is huge and different areas will have a different feel and will be known for different things. But by plainly wandering, I really got a proper look at how the people of Mumbai live their lives from day to day. And I’m shocked! I thought I’d seen the harshness of life before, meaning beggars, homeless people, dodgy tradesmen, grubby eating joints and general grime and dirt. But before visiting this particular part of Mumbai, this quote reflects my ignorance: ‘you aint seen nothing yet!’ Up until today everything I thought was harsh city life, was only a sample of how rough the lives of some people can be. As for the dirt; before today I’d only seen superficial dirt… now I’ve been the witness to DEEP DIRT…
Man oh man… My compassion came to the surface on fleeting moments for some individuals. My stomach did quite a few summer salts on other occasions, when the mountains of chicken guts on the roadside made me deviate from the unknown path I was following. The sights I was seeing, I couldn’t take them all in at once. I wanted to get my camera and start shooting pics like mad… but I didn’t know where to start! I wanted to record all of these sightings. I felt this area of the city to show me everything most people (who haven’t been to India) believe it to be; poor, dirty, ‘out of this world’… I was too tempted to put all of it on camera, just to show people at home what it’s like. But then something stopped me; violating their privacy? Making their lives out to be something of a spectacle… because it’s so different from the ‘norm’? When really it’s their ‘norm’, so why should it be put on display to the rest of the world? So I only took a few snaps, as if I was the jolly tourist; this made them smile.
It’s definitely one of the craziest places I’ve been. It’s like the city is stuck in the 1940s. Also, it’s as if they’ve taken all the farm animals from outside of the city and placed them amongst the buildings, the dirt and the traffic. Or maybe the animals were there before the city expanded? Or was the city there and then the people moved from the countryside with their chickens, horses and goats? Somehow, I don’t think there was any planning involved… and probably nobody would be able to answer the question: what was there first: the farm animals or the city? In chaotic India it’s anybody’s guess!
Today I was taking on the street-life of Mumbai. I checked out of the guest house this morning at 9am, I had no choice but to roam the city for the day. And holy smoke, what a city this is! Without any map, or any plans or any lists of what tourist sights I should be seeing, I started roaming and the day turned out to be a long, tiring and oh so revealing one. I stayed in the same neighbourhood of the guest house, just to avoid getting lost, as I didn’t have a map (I’m not even sure what part of the city I was in) By roaming in such a purposeless manner, I was presented with a different side of India. I felt as though I was in another country that just so happened to have the same name as the country I was in only 3 days ago.
I know this city is huge and different areas will have a different feel and will be known for different things. But by plainly wandering, I really got a proper look at how the people of Mumbai live their lives from day to day. And I’m shocked! I thought I’d seen the harshness of life before, meaning beggars, homeless people, dodgy tradesmen, grubby eating joints and general grime and dirt. But before visiting this particular part of Mumbai, this quote reflects my ignorance: ‘you aint seen nothing yet!’ Up until today everything I thought was harsh city life, was only a sample of how rough the lives of some people can be. As for the dirt; before today I’d only seen superficial dirt… now I’ve been the witness to DEEP DIRT…
Man oh man… My compassion came to the surface on fleeting moments for some individuals. My stomach did quite a few summer salts on other occasions, when the mountains of chicken guts on the roadside made me deviate from the unknown path I was following. The sights I was seeing, I couldn’t take them all in at once. I wanted to get my camera and start shooting pics like mad… but I didn’t know where to start! I wanted to record all of these sightings. I felt this area of the city to show me everything most people (who haven’t been to India) believe it to be; poor, dirty, ‘out of this world’… I was too tempted to put all of it on camera, just to show people at home what it’s like. But then something stopped me; violating their privacy? Making their lives out to be something of a spectacle… because it’s so different from the ‘norm’? When really it’s their ‘norm’, so why should it be put on display to the rest of the world? So I only took a few snaps, as if I was the jolly tourist; this made them smile.
It’s definitely one of the craziest places I’ve been. It’s like the city is stuck in the 1940s. Also, it’s as if they’ve taken all the farm animals from outside of the city and placed them amongst the buildings, the dirt and the traffic. Or maybe the animals were there before the city expanded? Or was the city there and then the people moved from the countryside with their chickens, horses and goats? Somehow, I don’t think there was any planning involved… and probably nobody would be able to answer the question: what was there first: the farm animals or the city? In chaotic India it’s anybody’s guess!
Reporting from Mumbai Airport
The evening of Wednesday the 15th: walking into Mumbai airport and taking a seat in the waiting area… Wouw: I’m shocked and feel brilliant at the same time. I’m seeing so many different people and nationalities all together! Wouw… The Europeans, the Asians, the Africans. I can’t help but feel so light and relieved to see more of the world, just by seeing different faces… Yes yes yes! So happy I am to hear people who natively speak English… or even to hear European English! Wouw… I never expected to feel so fresh just to see a group of German women sitting together, laughing freely, chatting, wearing the clothes they wish to wear and being expressive individuals. Man oh man… how excited I am.
It’s nearly 12 hours before my flight. Why am I so early? Well, I basically wasn’t willing to be overcharged 2 nights in a row by the man from the guesthouse and I didn’t have the energy to search for another clean hostel in the city. So, yes, there she is; the stingy (and slightly drained) traveller who was taken for a ride and now she’s spending the night sleeping in the airport.
But honestly, I don’t mind that I’m here so early. It’s now 22.45, I can check in at 5.50 in the morning (of the 16th). So it’s not too bad, it toughens me up if I’m ‘sleeping rough’. I’ve done it before. Actually it was here in this exact same place back in July 2010. Then I also had an early flight so I hung out in this same waiting hall for 15 hours!!!! That was a bit longer, a bit more strenuous.
I feel so much better compared to the last time I left India. When I look back now, I was almost running from here. I felt so negative towards the difficulties that travelling in India can bring about; the haste, the haggling, the dirt, the stares… I needed to get out. But I missed it straight away once I’d left! (that’s always the way; we push away what we have and then when it’s gone, we wish for it back again!) Anyhow, this time, I feel entirely different. Now I’m moving onwards with a smile towards India. I’m so grateful for everything and I have more of an understanding for the things that made me frustrated, during my last visit.
I understand their haggling; of course they’ll try to make money! I’m a ‘rich tourist’ in their eyes, so of course they’ll try to scam. To protect myself, I have to haggle and I can do this with a smile. It’s not that they’re out to get me, Niamh Keoghan, personally! It’s their way of life. It’s all the result of their circumstances. As for the stares, of course I stand out from the crowd! I’m white remember! It’s normal… And no matter how at home I feel here, or how absorbed I get or how long I stay, I’m still NOT AN INDIAN, I’ll never look or be one! And that will always lead to stares that can feel to be curious ones, or judgemental ones, or envious ones or simply friendly ones. I have to be fine with this, it’s something I have to accept. How else can I move freely around countries that aren’t western? Acceptance is the only answer.
As for the dirt; what do I expect?!?! There’s over 1 billion people living in this country and if the dirt has always been there, it’s not going to disappear over night. If the majority of the population hasn’t been exposed to environments that are treated with respect by the people living their, then how can they know the difference? How can they change their ways, if they haven’t been taught any better? As for the haste: millions of people thrown on top of each other, trying to live their lives… of course life will be fast in the city! So, I leave India, with far more acceptance for their ways.
It’s nearly 12 hours before my flight. Why am I so early? Well, I basically wasn’t willing to be overcharged 2 nights in a row by the man from the guesthouse and I didn’t have the energy to search for another clean hostel in the city. So, yes, there she is; the stingy (and slightly drained) traveller who was taken for a ride and now she’s spending the night sleeping in the airport.
But honestly, I don’t mind that I’m here so early. It’s now 22.45, I can check in at 5.50 in the morning (of the 16th). So it’s not too bad, it toughens me up if I’m ‘sleeping rough’. I’ve done it before. Actually it was here in this exact same place back in July 2010. Then I also had an early flight so I hung out in this same waiting hall for 15 hours!!!! That was a bit longer, a bit more strenuous.
I feel so much better compared to the last time I left India. When I look back now, I was almost running from here. I felt so negative towards the difficulties that travelling in India can bring about; the haste, the haggling, the dirt, the stares… I needed to get out. But I missed it straight away once I’d left! (that’s always the way; we push away what we have and then when it’s gone, we wish for it back again!) Anyhow, this time, I feel entirely different. Now I’m moving onwards with a smile towards India. I’m so grateful for everything and I have more of an understanding for the things that made me frustrated, during my last visit.
I understand their haggling; of course they’ll try to make money! I’m a ‘rich tourist’ in their eyes, so of course they’ll try to scam. To protect myself, I have to haggle and I can do this with a smile. It’s not that they’re out to get me, Niamh Keoghan, personally! It’s their way of life. It’s all the result of their circumstances. As for the stares, of course I stand out from the crowd! I’m white remember! It’s normal… And no matter how at home I feel here, or how absorbed I get or how long I stay, I’m still NOT AN INDIAN, I’ll never look or be one! And that will always lead to stares that can feel to be curious ones, or judgemental ones, or envious ones or simply friendly ones. I have to be fine with this, it’s something I have to accept. How else can I move freely around countries that aren’t western? Acceptance is the only answer.
As for the dirt; what do I expect?!?! There’s over 1 billion people living in this country and if the dirt has always been there, it’s not going to disappear over night. If the majority of the population hasn’t been exposed to environments that are treated with respect by the people living their, then how can they know the difference? How can they change their ways, if they haven’t been taught any better? As for the haste: millions of people thrown on top of each other, trying to live their lives… of course life will be fast in the city! So, I leave India, with far more acceptance for their ways.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Keeping track of the days
My last day at school ended on quite a high. There was a festival at a temple and a group of students had to give a concert, chanting songs. All the teachers had to be there too. They needed to be on stage, sitting like Buddha’s just like the kids, singing, swaying, clapping, chanting. It was quite an experience; the energy their volume and sound created, was massive. It felt like a perfect way for me to end my time at the school. There was also an audience of a few hundred people and an elephant was the star guest. Afterwards all the students and teachers were on such a high, as was I. We were brought back home in the schoolbus. Making our way through the tiny village roads there were more elephants being walked along the roads through the dark. Man, I was having those moments of awe: realizing… that YES I’m in India! I was then dropped back at the hostel, I said farewell to them all, gave them my best and funniest Malayalam and phrases (the local language), they all roared with laughter, I jumped out of the bus, skipped off down the lane to the hostel, only to hear the teachers shouting out of the window for me to come back soon. It was quite an exit… But I felt so great.
So, Saturday was the last full day in Kayamkulam. I was packing, posting, meeting, washing, ‘netting’ (online) and whatever else I needed to be doing. Sunday morning I set off to the trainstation. And I didn’t think twice about the fact that I was moving on. It was so strange. Leaving Kayamkulam didn’t feel like I was closing any doors. I just… left, without too much reflection or contemplation or sadness. All I heard myself saying was: ‘I’m moving onwards to bigger and better circumstances and accomplishments’. So how could a person be sad? I know if I miss Kerala and want to come back, the school will take me in an instant. I know how easily I can make it happen. Nothing is impossible and if I’m meant to return, then it will be.
Anyhow, I got the train to Kottayam on Sunday morning, to make a short stop. I was meeting with a teacher friend, from the second school I was working in during my first time in India (Ebenezer). I hadn’t seen her since leaving the school, but we’ve had a lot of contact on facebook and to meet her again on my last day in Kerala was quite a special ending. Having such connections will always be one of the things that will draw me back sooner or later. After our short but very sweet meeting I boarded the train; 40 hours of sitting and starting out the window, lay ahead of me. And wouw, what a trip it was! It was actually one of the most memorable ones I’ve had. I felt so calm and everything became so clear to me, as I gazed out the window, happy to do absolutely nothing for hours and hours on end – except for reflect and gaze at the scenery and people. It was quite a ride… I didn’t really sleep too much. Because the temperature dropped quite a bit during the night, and I was without a blanket. But, nevertheless, it was great. Coming into Mumbai at 5am, after a few sleepless nights, was something I wasn’t really looking forward to.
Actually, secretly I was dreading being in Mumbai. I didn’t want to be hanging around the city for 2 full days. I hadn’t even booked anywhere to stay. And I knew how much of a hassle it can be, trying to find a place to stay with 25 kilos of luggage weighing me down whilst trying to keep the men at bay who would be forcing overpriced taxi’s and hotels on me.
This morning, walking out of the station so early, the drivers jumped on me and I didn’t fight them off. I didn’t have the energy. So I went along with an offer one of the drivers gave me. He wasn’t totally honest and upfront and sprung some hidden charges on me, once we were in the guest house. These were charges he so conveniently ‘forgot’ to mention when we were getting into the taxi. But that’s my own fault and a lesson learnt for the next time. I’m over it. And I’m getting my moneys worth! Because, now that I’m sitting here, in a place that’s clean and quiet and permitting me to write (not like the other place I’d considered spending 36 hours – meaning the bench in the middle of Mumbai Central Station). And I feel like the luckiest person in the world.
Nobody from home knows of my plans. I’ve not had the time to contact them properly. And I’ve not known whether or not to surprise them… There’s one in the family who I’ll keep my homecoming from, and I might give the rest a little notice… But I know my mother has her suspicions… she knows me too well! haha… Either way… It’s all good, I’ll be welcomed with open arms and whole lot of love!
How nice to know I’ll soon be able to hug so many people who are close to me! I’ve missed it so much…
So, Saturday was the last full day in Kayamkulam. I was packing, posting, meeting, washing, ‘netting’ (online) and whatever else I needed to be doing. Sunday morning I set off to the trainstation. And I didn’t think twice about the fact that I was moving on. It was so strange. Leaving Kayamkulam didn’t feel like I was closing any doors. I just… left, without too much reflection or contemplation or sadness. All I heard myself saying was: ‘I’m moving onwards to bigger and better circumstances and accomplishments’. So how could a person be sad? I know if I miss Kerala and want to come back, the school will take me in an instant. I know how easily I can make it happen. Nothing is impossible and if I’m meant to return, then it will be.
Anyhow, I got the train to Kottayam on Sunday morning, to make a short stop. I was meeting with a teacher friend, from the second school I was working in during my first time in India (Ebenezer). I hadn’t seen her since leaving the school, but we’ve had a lot of contact on facebook and to meet her again on my last day in Kerala was quite a special ending. Having such connections will always be one of the things that will draw me back sooner or later. After our short but very sweet meeting I boarded the train; 40 hours of sitting and starting out the window, lay ahead of me. And wouw, what a trip it was! It was actually one of the most memorable ones I’ve had. I felt so calm and everything became so clear to me, as I gazed out the window, happy to do absolutely nothing for hours and hours on end – except for reflect and gaze at the scenery and people. It was quite a ride… I didn’t really sleep too much. Because the temperature dropped quite a bit during the night, and I was without a blanket. But, nevertheless, it was great. Coming into Mumbai at 5am, after a few sleepless nights, was something I wasn’t really looking forward to.
Actually, secretly I was dreading being in Mumbai. I didn’t want to be hanging around the city for 2 full days. I hadn’t even booked anywhere to stay. And I knew how much of a hassle it can be, trying to find a place to stay with 25 kilos of luggage weighing me down whilst trying to keep the men at bay who would be forcing overpriced taxi’s and hotels on me.
This morning, walking out of the station so early, the drivers jumped on me and I didn’t fight them off. I didn’t have the energy. So I went along with an offer one of the drivers gave me. He wasn’t totally honest and upfront and sprung some hidden charges on me, once we were in the guest house. These were charges he so conveniently ‘forgot’ to mention when we were getting into the taxi. But that’s my own fault and a lesson learnt for the next time. I’m over it. And I’m getting my moneys worth! Because, now that I’m sitting here, in a place that’s clean and quiet and permitting me to write (not like the other place I’d considered spending 36 hours – meaning the bench in the middle of Mumbai Central Station). And I feel like the luckiest person in the world.
Nobody from home knows of my plans. I’ve not had the time to contact them properly. And I’ve not known whether or not to surprise them… There’s one in the family who I’ll keep my homecoming from, and I might give the rest a little notice… But I know my mother has her suspicions… she knows me too well! haha… Either way… It’s all good, I’ll be welcomed with open arms and whole lot of love!
How nice to know I’ll soon be able to hug so many people who are close to me! I’ve missed it so much…
Still I'll justify
So in my heart I know exactly where to go. I know this step is the right one. Because I’m going where I’m guaranteed peace, I’m guaranteed support, I’m guaranteed a bed, I’m guaranteed inspiration, and green surroundings. I’m guaranteed to be with people who recognize me as being me, who let me do what I need and who I never need to explain myself to. I’m also guaranteed connection with certain people who inspire me and who know me inside out. I’m guaranteed not to be the object of observation and I’m guaranteed a daily dose of green tea (without sugar) made in a teapot that’s clean!
Even whilst talking so clearly, I still had the same mental barriers I needed to overcome, once again: the old fears stating that I’m a failure for going home. Yes, this was one of the biggest fears of my life (I’m only recently starting to realize), even if I know it will be for a short period, even if I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, even if the memories of my previous 6 months in Ireland are quite amazing and I treasure them dearly, even if this time round it’s for the sake of supporting my biggest dream that’s currently coming true, even if returning is also for the sake of writing another book and creating (hopefully) some kind of magic that I can share with others. Man oh man… and my mind tells me I’m a failure for returning… what a ‘lieing little toe-rag!’
This shows that, just because we face a fear once, it doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. It can still reappear. Maybe it won’t be as strong and overcoming the fear once makes us more able to overcome it again; but faster, with less stress and frustration. But still it can arise again and last week, I faced it once more. And I needed to deal. This is what happened: whilst I was on the internet booking these flights; over and over the statement was being repeated in my mind; ‘failure for going home, failure for returning, you’re going backwards by going home, not moving forward, you’re showing weakness.’ But I managed to ignore it. I told that voice to stick its advice where the sun doesn’t shine, because if following my heart means I’m a failure and weak, then I’ll happily be the biggest loser and the weakest spirit in town! I managed to focus on how positive this step is for me. I won’t say ‘could be for me’ because I know there’s no ifs buts or maybe’s about it. This is going to lead me to better places and experiences. Really. I feel it so strongly.
Sorry… I keep getting sidetracked… When I was booking the flights, I’m sitting there in the cubicle. I started having panic attacks after booking 2 of the 3 tickets. Man oh man… I was having hot flushes. I wanted to scream, I was angry and I wanted to run. I got as far as booking the final leg, I was ready to confirm, ready to book. But it suddenly got too much. I shut down the internet within a minute, I got my bag, threw the money on the counter (usually I consider this to be rude, but here they do it whether they’re panicked or not…) and I ran out into the street. I felt as though my world had changed and the sightings around me were different… just because I’d booked the most important leg of the journey: my flight out of India and back to Europe. There was no turning back, I had to move things forward, into the unknown… and India – for the time being the known – I was leaving behind. Man oh man… I walked along that scorching piece of the road and felt so sad. I wanted to go and hug all these Indians. Then I wanted to shout in desperation for not being able to continue travelling. I wondered if I’d ever feel okay with the decision I’d made and the action I’d just taken. I was terrified, felt sick to my stomach for a while and trapped…
Slowly everything became a little calmer and I was able to reason with myself: Niamh, the visa is running out anyhow, and you have to be somewhere in the world! And if you’d already decided that Nepal was showing too many obstacles, when it came to going there purely for writing purposes, then why doubt your decision so intensely?!?! You have to do something with your time! Don’t be such a drama queen, you know what you want, you know your reasons for doing this and you know you’ll be able to finally express the writing you’ve been forced to suppress due to the teaching positions you’ve had over the past year. You know you wouldn’t appreciate travel and teaching, if your need to write is becoming an obsession almost… and most importantly, you know you don’t need to justify your actions to anybody!’ Quite funny for me to say this, because justifying is exactly what I’m doing, as if I need everyone to approve of my decision. Man oh man, niamh, lighten up…
And soon it happened. I lightened up… Only an hour after my panic attack and my silent screams. I was able to truly feel happy whilst telling the girls at the hostel that I’m going back for a while. To those around me, this was the most logical step. Nobody was shocked or delighted for me. Of course they didn’t understand how big a deal this is; they don’t know me that well at all. But I feel this is huge. It’s changing my whole perception of the road ahead. I guess a changing vision of the world will lead to more changes in my life. Wouw… I know I’ve been working hard for my life to head in this direction (the world of writing) but I never thought it would actually happen so suddenly, nor did I expect for it to feel so good. Wouw… finally what I’m meant to be doing, is going to happen… this is amazing.
With the visions before me of going home to write, I wasn’t saddened at all to leave the school. I was grateful for my time, I was happy I stayed and followed through what I’d committed myself to. My last day didn’t feel like the ending of anything, it felt like the start of a new adventure and I felt somewhat relieved that I no longer needed to be forcing or pretending.
Even whilst talking so clearly, I still had the same mental barriers I needed to overcome, once again: the old fears stating that I’m a failure for going home. Yes, this was one of the biggest fears of my life (I’m only recently starting to realize), even if I know it will be for a short period, even if I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, even if the memories of my previous 6 months in Ireland are quite amazing and I treasure them dearly, even if this time round it’s for the sake of supporting my biggest dream that’s currently coming true, even if returning is also for the sake of writing another book and creating (hopefully) some kind of magic that I can share with others. Man oh man… and my mind tells me I’m a failure for returning… what a ‘lieing little toe-rag!’
This shows that, just because we face a fear once, it doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. It can still reappear. Maybe it won’t be as strong and overcoming the fear once makes us more able to overcome it again; but faster, with less stress and frustration. But still it can arise again and last week, I faced it once more. And I needed to deal. This is what happened: whilst I was on the internet booking these flights; over and over the statement was being repeated in my mind; ‘failure for going home, failure for returning, you’re going backwards by going home, not moving forward, you’re showing weakness.’ But I managed to ignore it. I told that voice to stick its advice where the sun doesn’t shine, because if following my heart means I’m a failure and weak, then I’ll happily be the biggest loser and the weakest spirit in town! I managed to focus on how positive this step is for me. I won’t say ‘could be for me’ because I know there’s no ifs buts or maybe’s about it. This is going to lead me to better places and experiences. Really. I feel it so strongly.
Sorry… I keep getting sidetracked… When I was booking the flights, I’m sitting there in the cubicle. I started having panic attacks after booking 2 of the 3 tickets. Man oh man… I was having hot flushes. I wanted to scream, I was angry and I wanted to run. I got as far as booking the final leg, I was ready to confirm, ready to book. But it suddenly got too much. I shut down the internet within a minute, I got my bag, threw the money on the counter (usually I consider this to be rude, but here they do it whether they’re panicked or not…) and I ran out into the street. I felt as though my world had changed and the sightings around me were different… just because I’d booked the most important leg of the journey: my flight out of India and back to Europe. There was no turning back, I had to move things forward, into the unknown… and India – for the time being the known – I was leaving behind. Man oh man… I walked along that scorching piece of the road and felt so sad. I wanted to go and hug all these Indians. Then I wanted to shout in desperation for not being able to continue travelling. I wondered if I’d ever feel okay with the decision I’d made and the action I’d just taken. I was terrified, felt sick to my stomach for a while and trapped…
Slowly everything became a little calmer and I was able to reason with myself: Niamh, the visa is running out anyhow, and you have to be somewhere in the world! And if you’d already decided that Nepal was showing too many obstacles, when it came to going there purely for writing purposes, then why doubt your decision so intensely?!?! You have to do something with your time! Don’t be such a drama queen, you know what you want, you know your reasons for doing this and you know you’ll be able to finally express the writing you’ve been forced to suppress due to the teaching positions you’ve had over the past year. You know you wouldn’t appreciate travel and teaching, if your need to write is becoming an obsession almost… and most importantly, you know you don’t need to justify your actions to anybody!’ Quite funny for me to say this, because justifying is exactly what I’m doing, as if I need everyone to approve of my decision. Man oh man, niamh, lighten up…
And soon it happened. I lightened up… Only an hour after my panic attack and my silent screams. I was able to truly feel happy whilst telling the girls at the hostel that I’m going back for a while. To those around me, this was the most logical step. Nobody was shocked or delighted for me. Of course they didn’t understand how big a deal this is; they don’t know me that well at all. But I feel this is huge. It’s changing my whole perception of the road ahead. I guess a changing vision of the world will lead to more changes in my life. Wouw… I know I’ve been working hard for my life to head in this direction (the world of writing) but I never thought it would actually happen so suddenly, nor did I expect for it to feel so good. Wouw… finally what I’m meant to be doing, is going to happen… this is amazing.
With the visions before me of going home to write, I wasn’t saddened at all to leave the school. I was grateful for my time, I was happy I stayed and followed through what I’d committed myself to. My last day didn’t feel like the ending of anything, it felt like the start of a new adventure and I felt somewhat relieved that I no longer needed to be forcing or pretending.
Why oh why... some more
And as for the dream of writing a book in Nepal; yes it would be amazing. But realistically if I seek for a writing spot in any foreign place, it would take time for the much needed sense of grounding and connection to come, due to the inevitable need to familiarize, adjust, acclimatize, search, move and eventually find, within the new culture. Choosing to do this in Nepal at this moment in time, is too much of ‘faffing about’… I’d waste so much time seeking the perfect place – when I know where I have that perfection and where instantly the writing can start. Using courage to follow my heart and to go onwards to that place only means I don’t need to waste precious time.
I also know for a fact that if I’m seeking perfection only outside of myself so I can write, then every single place I were to consider, would have some fault or another; maybe the climate would be too cold, or the rent would be too high, or the contact would be too little, or the stares and feeling of alienation would be too much, or the visa would be too short, or the worries about money would be too great, or the tourist distractions would be too tempting due to the scenery being too beautiful! So Niamh would be far too unsettled to actually get the flow going…
You see, this is what I was finding as I was searching for answers in my indecisiveness. Knowing that I’ve already found a great little spot and remembering the process I went through to find that spot, tells me I’ve already been on a search for that place of perfection. Why would I start the search again? Just to be more independent and free and to prove that I can make a dream real? Hummm… I don’t know. But I do know that when I was in Ireland back in 2010, it took me up to 2 months before I found the perfect place to write in a flow. I only reached that flow once I overcame barriers in the mind – those were barriers that were telling me Ireland was wrong and I should be in a foreign place. Also whilst I was working on taking down those mental barriers, I was trying to write in many different locations around the town and every single place felt wrong; libraries and café’s mainly. This is only a logical chain reaction: the places around me felt wrong, because my mind was unsettled and still feeling out of place and ‘wrong’ in Ireland. I still needed to connect properly to myself and to my surroundings. And by holding on to the will to write that book (which connected me to ME) the place became perfect and all obstacles vanished. The flow properly started and I never felt closer to Ireland or the people than I ever have done in all of my life. And as a result of these 6 precious months, now, whenever people ask me where I’m from, I’ll happily say Ireland. No longer is it with a negative feeling. I’ve even been told by others that my eyes light up when I say where I’m from. It just goes to show what can happen when we properly connect with ourselves in a certain place; whether it’s our native country or a country we just so happen to find pieces of ourselves in… Oh, and by the way, the place of perfection in Ireland was the desk in my little bro’s room… And for this I’m extremely grateful. Yes… it’s brilliant. And I reckon it’s waiting for me (If my mam hasn’t disposed of it…haha)
I also know for a fact that if I’m seeking perfection only outside of myself so I can write, then every single place I were to consider, would have some fault or another; maybe the climate would be too cold, or the rent would be too high, or the contact would be too little, or the stares and feeling of alienation would be too much, or the visa would be too short, or the worries about money would be too great, or the tourist distractions would be too tempting due to the scenery being too beautiful! So Niamh would be far too unsettled to actually get the flow going…
You see, this is what I was finding as I was searching for answers in my indecisiveness. Knowing that I’ve already found a great little spot and remembering the process I went through to find that spot, tells me I’ve already been on a search for that place of perfection. Why would I start the search again? Just to be more independent and free and to prove that I can make a dream real? Hummm… I don’t know. But I do know that when I was in Ireland back in 2010, it took me up to 2 months before I found the perfect place to write in a flow. I only reached that flow once I overcame barriers in the mind – those were barriers that were telling me Ireland was wrong and I should be in a foreign place. Also whilst I was working on taking down those mental barriers, I was trying to write in many different locations around the town and every single place felt wrong; libraries and café’s mainly. This is only a logical chain reaction: the places around me felt wrong, because my mind was unsettled and still feeling out of place and ‘wrong’ in Ireland. I still needed to connect properly to myself and to my surroundings. And by holding on to the will to write that book (which connected me to ME) the place became perfect and all obstacles vanished. The flow properly started and I never felt closer to Ireland or the people than I ever have done in all of my life. And as a result of these 6 precious months, now, whenever people ask me where I’m from, I’ll happily say Ireland. No longer is it with a negative feeling. I’ve even been told by others that my eyes light up when I say where I’m from. It just goes to show what can happen when we properly connect with ourselves in a certain place; whether it’s our native country or a country we just so happen to find pieces of ourselves in… Oh, and by the way, the place of perfection in Ireland was the desk in my little bro’s room… And for this I’m extremely grateful. Yes… it’s brilliant. And I reckon it’s waiting for me (If my mam hasn’t disposed of it…haha)
Why oh why
So, my last note ended on the 9th. And the 12th has come and gone. It’s now already the 14th. And the days have just flown by. Where am I sitting now? I’m in Mumbai, in a tiny space in a guesthouse. I’m sitting on the bed in a single room, with clean sheets and towels, a flat screen tv on the wall, a private bathroom with hot water and constant supply of drinking water. And, the most important thing: peace for 24 hours.
Since the 9th, I’ve said goodbye to the school, the kids and the teachers (which happened on Friday evening, the 10th), I’ve said goodbye to Kayamkulam and I’ve boarded a train to take me on a 40 hour journey from there to here (this journey started on the 12th). This morning I arrived here in Mumbai (the 14th). I’ll be spending the next 24 hours chilling, gearing myself up for the next leg of the journey; I’ve to checkout of the guest house tomorrow morning, store my luggage, roam this chaotic city for 12 hours, get the train to the airport, wait there for around 7 hours and then on the 16th I’ll board the plane that’s leaving India and heading for… Europe!
Okay that was quite a lot of info to spill all in one go. I’ll rewind back to the 9th, which is when I was able to pluck up the courage and book a trip heading home. This has been the change of plan that has scared me quite a bit. It felt to be huge, drastic and too sudden… and that’s why I was wrecking my head when making the decision.
I first was so willing to go onwards to Nepal, or any other place that was different from India, different from Europe. So what happened to me following these ideas through? Well, the biggest break through of my life; the book getting publishing. When I first heard of the publishing, I’d initially said that May would see me back in Ireland; as it’s not until then that the publisher needs me to be home.
In the meantime, I thought I could pick-up a quick teaching job for 3 months, just to see me through. But the urge to write increased (I posted quite some words about this topic here on my blog last week). And the will to teach was becoming less and less. I couldn’t keep my mind on teaching anymore here in the job I just finished, so there was no way I was going to force myself to properly jobhunt and then actually follow a new teaching position through for another (long) 3 months. I know it can seem like a short length of time, but when you know the job is not what you (wholeheartedly) want (even before taking it on) and you know what you actually SHOULD be doing and, most importantly, you know that you CAN do it… then 3 months can feel like forever. And I didn’t want to waste that time… because that’s what it honestly would’ve felt like. I’d still be suppressing the urge to write, and I wouldn’t be happy. If I were to have chosen to go to South East Asia and teach, my mind wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t appreciate it because I’d only have taken the job as a time-filler. And time is too precious. So I couldn’t go in that direction. It felt wrong. Maybe it will feel right again… but it’s too soon to say.
Since the 9th, I’ve said goodbye to the school, the kids and the teachers (which happened on Friday evening, the 10th), I’ve said goodbye to Kayamkulam and I’ve boarded a train to take me on a 40 hour journey from there to here (this journey started on the 12th). This morning I arrived here in Mumbai (the 14th). I’ll be spending the next 24 hours chilling, gearing myself up for the next leg of the journey; I’ve to checkout of the guest house tomorrow morning, store my luggage, roam this chaotic city for 12 hours, get the train to the airport, wait there for around 7 hours and then on the 16th I’ll board the plane that’s leaving India and heading for… Europe!
Okay that was quite a lot of info to spill all in one go. I’ll rewind back to the 9th, which is when I was able to pluck up the courage and book a trip heading home. This has been the change of plan that has scared me quite a bit. It felt to be huge, drastic and too sudden… and that’s why I was wrecking my head when making the decision.
I first was so willing to go onwards to Nepal, or any other place that was different from India, different from Europe. So what happened to me following these ideas through? Well, the biggest break through of my life; the book getting publishing. When I first heard of the publishing, I’d initially said that May would see me back in Ireland; as it’s not until then that the publisher needs me to be home.
In the meantime, I thought I could pick-up a quick teaching job for 3 months, just to see me through. But the urge to write increased (I posted quite some words about this topic here on my blog last week). And the will to teach was becoming less and less. I couldn’t keep my mind on teaching anymore here in the job I just finished, so there was no way I was going to force myself to properly jobhunt and then actually follow a new teaching position through for another (long) 3 months. I know it can seem like a short length of time, but when you know the job is not what you (wholeheartedly) want (even before taking it on) and you know what you actually SHOULD be doing and, most importantly, you know that you CAN do it… then 3 months can feel like forever. And I didn’t want to waste that time… because that’s what it honestly would’ve felt like. I’d still be suppressing the urge to write, and I wouldn’t be happy. If I were to have chosen to go to South East Asia and teach, my mind wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t appreciate it because I’d only have taken the job as a time-filler. And time is too precious. So I couldn’t go in that direction. It felt wrong. Maybe it will feel right again… but it’s too soon to say.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Mumbai - Neyyar dam
It’s Friday the 9th of September. So much has happened since arriving. On the morning of the 2nd I landed in Mumbai. I knew how to make my way from the airport to Mumbai Central Station. So I really hadn’t planned too much beforehand. The parts of the journey I’d anticipated most (certain connections), turned out to be so easy… The only struggle I had was carrying the backpack along with my 2 other bags (in total weighing around 28 kg’s). It was so cool though, to find that I fitted right back into the commotion of travelling through India, without any hesitation or doubt.
Within a few hours, I realized just how more capable I am of dealing with certain situations by applying the right approach and using the proper attitude towards the Indians on the street, compared to last year. I was instantly haggling with the drivers before hopping into the dinky rickshaws, I was asking the right people for directions and following the locals who were travelling in the same direction. I was ordering the tea I like best and I knew how to find safe drinking water at the station. I knew where to dispose of my luggage for a few hours (when I was waiting for my train connections) and I was even feeling so relaxed about the whole journey that I managed to get some sleep in the waiting hall - that was for ladies only – just before getting the 40 hour train to the southern state of Kerala.
The train left Mumbai on Friday afternoon. It was the longest train journey I’ve been on. But I didn’t mind. I was able to catch up on all that sleep I’d lost throughout the week gone by. There were more than 50 stops along that particular route… and every stop there seemed to be hundreds of passengers waiting to board this snake of train that was probably a few km’s long (that’s maybe an exaggeration…not too sure).
Anyhow, it wasn’t until I nearly reached Kerala, that I realized I was reversing the journey through India that I’d done last year. I was taking the exact same route, but backwards… as I headed to the yoga school (or the ashram, as most would call it). I found it quite strange to be starting my new Indian chapter in the exact way as I left off, last year. So I may not be back in India to start something new, but instead to continue something that I’d already started…
So I got to Neyyardam by Sunday afternoon (which is the village where the ashram is). I didn’t know for how long I’d stay. That question could only be answered, once I arrived and sussed out what I was in need of or… what I was ‘searching for’.
Within a few hours, I realized just how more capable I am of dealing with certain situations by applying the right approach and using the proper attitude towards the Indians on the street, compared to last year. I was instantly haggling with the drivers before hopping into the dinky rickshaws, I was asking the right people for directions and following the locals who were travelling in the same direction. I was ordering the tea I like best and I knew how to find safe drinking water at the station. I knew where to dispose of my luggage for a few hours (when I was waiting for my train connections) and I was even feeling so relaxed about the whole journey that I managed to get some sleep in the waiting hall - that was for ladies only – just before getting the 40 hour train to the southern state of Kerala.
The train left Mumbai on Friday afternoon. It was the longest train journey I’ve been on. But I didn’t mind. I was able to catch up on all that sleep I’d lost throughout the week gone by. There were more than 50 stops along that particular route… and every stop there seemed to be hundreds of passengers waiting to board this snake of train that was probably a few km’s long (that’s maybe an exaggeration…not too sure).
Anyhow, it wasn’t until I nearly reached Kerala, that I realized I was reversing the journey through India that I’d done last year. I was taking the exact same route, but backwards… as I headed to the yoga school (or the ashram, as most would call it). I found it quite strange to be starting my new Indian chapter in the exact way as I left off, last year. So I may not be back in India to start something new, but instead to continue something that I’d already started…
So I got to Neyyardam by Sunday afternoon (which is the village where the ashram is). I didn’t know for how long I’d stay. That question could only be answered, once I arrived and sussed out what I was in need of or… what I was ‘searching for’.
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