I tried to leave early, but discovered I was locked in (the gate to the yard was locked) – the wifi was best ever, so blogged a little while I waited for someone else to wake up. In fact the key was in a box next to the gate – but honestly, how was I supposed to know that? But I was quite a happy captive.
The road was fairly straightforward, no steep hills, and the first half in the shadow of an elevated highway, which this minion was very grateful for. I passed skyscrapers and slums and suburbs with names like “Electric City”. There were the usual street stalls lining the roads selling chai, fizzy drinks, strange packets and vegetables: anything to scrape a living. It was dirty and dusty. I turned right off the main road and headed towards the countryside – lots of new housing, new developments, being built from concrete, with advertising hoardings portraying the dream of happy families. Schools advertised too – with names that included the word “International” in them to attract new paying pupils. I stopped in Arekal to indulge in an icecream as I suspected (rightly) that there wouldn’t be much in the way of pudding over the Christmas period. It was very good ice-cream and I hoped it would be open on the way back too (it wasn’t).
I arrived at Navadarshanum Farm/Community Trust at around 4.30pm – and would have been much quicker if hadn’t stopped so frequently to check I was going the right way. Gumularapuram is a small village. Gangenalil hamlet is even smaller. Navadarshanam is beyond both of them – truly out in the sticks!
I met Deepa first of all. She had been a Primary School teacher once upon a time and would have been excellent at that job I suspect. I also met Nagarajan and Gopi – I didn’t know the names of the others, but all were friendly and welcoming at supper time. I was shown to my own little house – there were other empty bedrooms in it, and a fully fitted kitchen. The roof was adorned with solar panels to heat the water and provide electricity.
Supper was spicy, vegetarian, organic – tasty and lots of it, but relatively plain fare. It was followed by the regular nightly ritual (as I was to discover) of a puja (several prayers and songs from a Hindu music book or sheets) to the accompaniment of a droning electric music box – it would put out two notes which bent, mingled and blended in with each other. There would usually follow a discussion by the adults, with sometimes a quiz of the children. This particular night they were introduced to me and the children were asked about Europe and capital cities.
The road was fairly straightforward, no steep hills, and the first half in the shadow of an elevated highway, which this minion was very grateful for. I passed skyscrapers and slums and suburbs with names like “Electric City”. There were the usual street stalls lining the roads selling chai, fizzy drinks, strange packets and vegetables: anything to scrape a living. It was dirty and dusty. I turned right off the main road and headed towards the countryside – lots of new housing, new developments, being built from concrete, with advertising hoardings portraying the dream of happy families. Schools advertised too – with names that included the word “International” in them to attract new paying pupils. I stopped in Arekal to indulge in an icecream as I suspected (rightly) that there wouldn’t be much in the way of pudding over the Christmas period. It was very good ice-cream and I hoped it would be open on the way back too (it wasn’t).
I arrived at Navadarshanum Farm/Community Trust at around 4.30pm – and would have been much quicker if hadn’t stopped so frequently to check I was going the right way. Gumularapuram is a small village. Gangenalil hamlet is even smaller. Navadarshanam is beyond both of them – truly out in the sticks!
I met Deepa first of all. She had been a Primary School teacher once upon a time and would have been excellent at that job I suspect. I also met Nagarajan and Gopi – I didn’t know the names of the others, but all were friendly and welcoming at supper time. I was shown to my own little house – there were other empty bedrooms in it, and a fully fitted kitchen. The roof was adorned with solar panels to heat the water and provide electricity.
Supper was spicy, vegetarian, organic – tasty and lots of it, but relatively plain fare. It was followed by the regular nightly ritual (as I was to discover) of a puja (several prayers and songs from a Hindu music book or sheets) to the accompaniment of a droning electric music box – it would put out two notes which bent, mingled and blended in with each other. There would usually follow a discussion by the adults, with sometimes a quiz of the children. This particular night they were introduced to me and the children were asked about Europe and capital cities.
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