I am in India. A land where women wear full jewel tone saris in 100 degrees and cows walk around saintly. Beggars sit in the middle of the street, stalling traffic while peasants carry full loads on their heads in harmony. Exotic aromas infuse my nostrils. I had arrived for the third part of the journey. India is a true dichotomy of beauty and spirituality and immense poverty and scams. It's only my second day here but I have already seen both sides.
Side A:
I got off the plane at the Chennai airport at 11pm and walked out into the steamy humidity (yes its hot even at night). I had arranged my hotel previously as a quick one night stop before my flight to the south, Kerala, in the morning. For $80 USD, I figured I would be taken to a moderate or perhaps even luxury hotel. This was my first scam. Hotel Heera, online, looked like a palace. Hotel Heera, in reality, resembled a crackhouse. The warnings for "solo women travelers" in the Lonely Planet guide echoed in my mind. After arguing with the grumpy man at the front desk about the fees, I was taken up to my room. The porter flicked on the lights but I wished he wouldn't have. The flickering light displayed a shabby room with peeling paint, cigarette burns on the bedding, and blood stains on the towels. The bathroom faucet leaked brown water. There was no toilet paper. And to top it off the signs on my door were not the typical emergency escape instructions but rather signs prohibiting gambling and prostitution in the rooms. Wonderful. I was in a hotel that doubled as a whorehouse. I bolted the door and threw a decrepit chair under the knob. I went to bed gripping my knife in one hand and my pepper spray in the other. The outside noise frightened me. I slept 45 minutes that night...my head spun on how I would combat an intruder. I realized that I didn't even know how to use my pepper spray. I would surely blind myself. And throw a punch?? Hmm...I vowed to take martial arts classes when I got back to San Francisco.
Side B:
Instead of going to the Ashram right away (which is an oasis truly--in all their correspondence to me they call me "Blessed Heidi") I decided to come to a beach town called Kovalum first to enjoy my last air conditioned room for a while. For much less that Heera had cost, Varmas Beach Resort presented me with a beautiful room with antique wood furniture and a terrace that looked out onto the sea. The fresh breezes abated the humidity. The man at the front desk was friendly and chatty and seemed quite impressed that I was going to the Sivananda ashram. With directions from my cheerful host,I walked around the small town and bought myself a sari and other Indian garb from two local girls. Women scantily clad are asking for trouble (or so I read). This means no more prancing around in my Dolce and Gabbana bikini. Sigh. But I intend to blend in. Sleeves and farmer tan here I come....
On my walk today i ventured up to the lighthouse. The views were impressive from the top but for some reason instead of snapping pictures of the scenery, a few men with fancy cameras at the top insisted on taking photos of me. Moi. It must have been my new attire. Who knew I would have a modeling shoot in southern India? One of the photographers, Heera (no connection to the name of the ghastly hotel I stayed at) was a journalist from New Delhi. He asked me if i was in India for fun or for silence. Silence, I answered without stopping. Australia was fun, Vietnam was eating and thinking, and India...all silence. Hot humid silence. I have come to cease my jumbled rumbling thoughts and conflicting actions so that my true spirit may break free. This may sound cheesy on North American soil, but headed to the ashram it makes perfect sense.
I may not have internet access for a while...but please know that I will be well looked after at the Sivananda ashram. Photos (more than the two I took today) will have to wait. Stay tuned.....
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