Back home

The traffic is so quiet. I’m not the only white person around. And it’s cold!!! It feels weird. But I know the feeling. I lived in different countries and every time I come back home I get the same feeling: as if another “me” still lived where I used to. My “Indian” me is now sweating under the 30°C sun of 9 am, going to school or ordering a fresh pineapple juice on the beach or talking to someone more with gestures than with English. Just like my “English” me (I worked in London for 3.5 years until last May) is taking the bus daily to go to work and chatting with my ex colleagues. I am sure that whatever time goes by, if I visit the place again, it feels like I left just a few days earlier, and nothing has really changed. Maybe some shops changed, some people aged a little, but in the end all is still the same.

What I most like of going back to a place where I lived for some time is meeting again the people I left behind. I cry whenever saying goodbye because I know that, when far, the friendship won’t be the same. Having a drink and a chat together is never like chatting on the Internet or writing emails. You don’t talk about “nothing” online and you always have at least one main subject. But chatting in front of a cup of tea, with no time restrictions or Wi-Fi connection problems, is completely different. You can jump from one subject to another and so many random things come out in the discussion.

What I learnt after living in different cities for limited amounts of time is that good people will always be good people. The people I enjoyed spending time with some years ago will still be people I like. I met friends 4 years after we said goodbye and I was so worried that we wouldn’t get along anymore. I couldn’t be more wrong: a friend is always a friend, because once you “click”, that’s it, the friendship will survive distance and lack of contact.

I don’t know when I will be able to visit SISP again, but I’m sure I’ll go there again. I’m so curious to see the students grown up! I also want to see how they improved in skating and surfing and what job the older ones got. I know that probably a few years will pass before I visit Kovalam again but that’s not a problem, my “Indian” me will keep being there and once I land it will feel like I just woke up after a long dream.

Time to say goodbye

All good things come to an end. When I left my home to come to India, 2.5 months away seemed a long time. They actually felt like 3 weeks! I feel very sad at leaving but someone once told me that it’s good if you’re sad when leaving, because it means that you had a good experience. I couldn’t agree more!

At the school, a leaving-do was organized on my last day: the founder of the school said some nice words about my stay at SISP, which brought tears to my eyes, then some of the students sang a really nice song (lyrics below) and the youngest student handed me a present: several bijoux made with paper and coconut at S.E.P. (read my previous post A good heart and strong will), lovely! Then I gave the children some sweets.

In the afternoon, the tuition students really touched my heart: first they organized a party for me. They popped colourful corianders in the room and served orange juice and chips to everyone. They paid for all this, which really touched me, considering how little money they have. Finally, two students had presents for me: one gifted me a pen similar to his (read below) and my name made with sticks, the other gifted me a carved chalk where he carved my favourite symbol, the Yin and Yang. Both also wrote me lovely letters.

I was really surprised by their spirit of observation, also considering that they are no older than 15. Several weeks ago, when seeing the long pen of the first student, I commented that it was very nice. I didn’t mention it anymore but still, he remembered and bought one for me! Also, I had once spoken no more than 5 minutes about the Yin and Yang, and why it is my favourite symbol, and again, the second student remembered about it and carved it into a chalk. I am amazed by how carefully they listened to me and how they remembered what I like. Rarely people get to know me so well in such a short time.

And now time to move to my next post “Back home”…

What I will miss/not miss of India

I will miss the children at SISP school. Their expressive black eyes, their running around, their asking me to “tick” their notebooks when they do well, their efforts to speak to me in English and to teach me Malayalam. I will miss the kindness and hospitality that makes India a unique country. I will miss the food, so different from the European one but still so good, with so many ingredients never used in Europe, such as coconut (fresh, dry, milk, oil), pineapple, mango, yogurt, clarified butter and endless spices. I will miss the sun and the warm weather (it never really gets cold here). I will miss the green palms, the beach and the lights of the fishermen’ boats at the horizon in the night. I will miss jumping on a rickshaw whenever I want to. I will miss the chai!

I will not miss the heaps of garbage on the side of the streets and the stinky smoke that comes out of it when they are put on fire. I will not miss the spitting and free burping everywhere. I will not miss the stray dogs and their endless and loud barking (especially at night), the sticky humidity or the looks of the men on the street. I will not miss mosquitoes biting through your clothes (yes, they manage to do that) and the electricity going off every time it rains (but this is also charming actually).

I know that whatever “I will not miss” won’t ever be more than “what I miss”, so I’m sure that this is not the last time I come to India!!

Diwali

I recently visited a friend of mine in Mumbai during Diwali. Diwali is a Hindu festival that resembles European Christmas and New Year. It is the festival of lights and celebrates the victory of good over evil. People wish each other “Happy New Year”, exchange gifts and decorate their houses with candles and lights. The city is lit up and most balconies are decorated with strings of colourful light bulbs.

Several pujas (prayers) are made. A puja is made to the goddess Lakshmi: it is the goddess of wealth and praying for her will bring wealth for the coming year. This reminds me of the custom of eating lentils in Italy (lentils bring money) or eating 12 grapes corresponding to the 12 bell strokes at midnight in Spain and so on. I was also part of a ritual: my friend’s mother applied a paste of natural ingredients (I can only remember the poppy seeds as one of the ingredients) on my face and feet, then she applied oil and coconut milk on my hair and did a small puja. Then I took a shower and I had to break a small lime with my heel in the shower. This should give me protection and wealth for the next year!! I was part of another similar ritual but it was made by my friend’s grandmother. When finished, she kindly gifted me a small statue of the goddess Durga, the goddess of power that fights evil:

Another tradition of Diwali is the rangoli: a decoration made with colourful powders (a similar thing called atham is made in Kerala with flower petals, see the previous post Onam). My friend and me also made a rangoli: we took the pattern from a rangoli design book and then coloured it with several powders. It is more difficult than it seems (the powder never goes where you want it to), but the result is very satisfying:

Diwali, just like Christmas, is the time of the family’s get together. I was offered meals and gifts at several of my friend’s aunts and grandparents places and I had amazing home made food. We also fired some small fireworks and then watched the big ones from the terrace: from everywhere in the city fireworks were fired and the whole city shined in different colours, a great show! Happy Diwali!