Villages and little lessons.

Losing track of days! Time is flying. 

We arrived on Tuesday. On Wednesday we went dress shopping in the markets, had a tour of the school and to the police station to register our visas. On Thursday the police station seemed to take up our whole day again, both entertaining and frustrating. It's unlike any other police office you've ever been in. It's crazy, overcrowded, paper and people everywhere (I'm sure you've got the jist of India now!). We met with the police head chief where he casually asked Jade how her parents met. It's rather different to our home police stations - they were all so strangely accepting of us being in the office headquarters. Even if having 'UK, United Kingdom, UK, UK' being repeated like a broken record in your ear whilst trying to type is rather frustrating it was also rather comical feeling like you're in a sketch from Little Britain - 'Computer says No!'... After all I'm sure they rarely get to practice filling out English visa forms in a city so off the tourist track.

We've also come to terms with a half hour journey easily being mistaken for an hour or even two - it's all about just going with the flow. Half the clocks don't work out here anyway and it's rare to even see one. Frequent breaking down of cars and buses is another thing. We rather find ourselves jumping out and into auto/rickshaws leaving the poor Indian behind to wait for a bump start. If only they had the AA out here! 

On Friday 16th we were taken by our hosts school bus to the villages with the family on an outing to meet the sisters where they have to live with their husbands relatives. It's the tradition on the last day of Sanskriti, (a southern festival), to feast and have bonfires to symbolise new beginnings and a fresh start. Ironically this was the first day we'd worn our new dresses too. 'Wow, you look like a doll', they said to me over and over - and to Jade, 'you look like a heroine'. We were labeled as 'mannequins' and were rather shown off in the villages. Everyone as expected stared, wanted photos, and to give us a tour - proud of the village they lived in. A little boy did however cry in what looked like shock when he saw us. 'It's the skin, so fair' was the phrase I remember most from the day. I guess it's nice to be appreciated for being so awfully pale - though I am hoping to come back a bit less ghostly! 

I learnt some rather simple lessons from the journey too... Watermelons do not grow on trees, they grow from the ground. I was also extremely excited to see my first wild hippo - though they looked very much like shiney buffalo. I've grasped now how to distinguish between the two, doh! I shall let you know if I ever really do see a hippo in India rather than embarrassingly confusing a killer animal with a cow. I'll put it down to, 'we all have our moments'.

The village was a complete contrast to the city. Water pumps as you see in documentaries really do exsist everywhere. They are fitted like you see on the adverts at home, and are invaluable to the people in each village. Many of the villagers have to wash outside with buckets of water whilst some even sleep outside, their only transport being a bicycle and only foods being subsistently grown crops that are taken from the vast rice, chili and tabacco fields that surround their homes. 

I'm beginning to feel I'm taking a lot from just being here, seeing and experiencing. Though certain aspects are shocking when you compare lifestyles they are just differences, temporary differences for us that we just have to accept. The cultures are different, climates are different, behaviour and morals are different but that's how it is.

I appreciate home a hell of a lot more since being away - it's comforting to know I have my family, friends, work group, school groups and everyone at home. I am grateful to have this opportunity to get a real feel for someone else's world, their contrasting reality. This experience is allowing us to teach and be taught. I have begun to recognise that people are just people wherever you go, just living as every other person. As human beings. No utopia. Just simplicity. If you're truely happy there is nothing more to search for. That is living.