DNS - A New Opportunity

For the first time since my voluntary work in India with Restless development last year, I once again have some sense of direction in my life - for the next four years at least! I have decided to take the opportunity to enroll at the DNS (Det Nodvendige Seminarium - which in English is translated as The Necessary Teacher Training College) school in Denmark. 

As the name implies, it's a college that trains its students in pedagogy although it does so in an alternative way. In conventional colleges and universities, there is a clear hierarchy; a distinction between students, teachers, presidents and so on. Of course, most of the studying is done in classrooms with lectures about specific topics, depending on what course you chose. These academic buildings have employees which take care of the cooking, cleaning, maintenance, gardening etc. I know I'm stating the obvious here, but I want to clarify the differences between these conventional schools and the alternative school I'm enrolling in.

 For starters, TVIND is not funded by the state. Rather, it is paid for by students, teachers and some certain individuals who live there with special needs. They have what they call a common economy and students, during their time on the course, have a number of months where they have a "saving up period," in which they go to work somewhere (in some city in Europe or at the school itself), earn the amount that is needed, and then the money they earn is put in to this common economy and distributed evenly amongst the team. The money covers everything in the school such as food, drink, heating and accommodation, as well as other expenses on the program itself such as transportation, rent etc. We do get our own pocket money from it too. I doubt everyone would like this system as the money they earn is not strictly theirs, but I endorse it. I like the fact that as long as you contribute something in the team, you get something out of it. There is no mentality of working harder than somebody else and deserving more for doing so. Ergo, you can not value or put a price on how hard somebody is working. As long as they are doing something, then they are entitled to eat well, drink and sleep comfortably the same as everybody else. Again, I know this economy isn't something that everybody would find agreeable, but I think it's partly due to the fact that we've come so accustomed to spending lavishly on wants rather than needs to satisfy our greed. Advertisements don't help.

Anyway,  another difference is a lack of hierarchy. Sure, there are headmasters that are in charge and there are teachers. But it really isn't noticeable. Students and teachers alike dress so casually and form friendships. Two of the evenings spent at the preparatory weekend there, we sat around a campfire singing songs, smoking shisha and talking with one another informally. And on my last evening, we debated about homophobia and other topics in the common hall. If Michal and Romas didn't clarify they are teachers, I wouldn't have been none the wiser. There really is a sense of equality there; they don't just advocate it, but they live it. And further evidence of this is the fact that everybody does their bit to maintain the place. Every morning after breakfast, everyone unanimously agrees to a task to carry out and spend roughly 45 minutes getting on it with it; it is the students who do most of the cleaning, the gardening, the painting and decorating, the cooking etc. Romas would probably hate me saying this, but in a sense, it really does feel like a commune. One whose community spends a lot of time travelling and studying though! 

Which brings me to the final notable differences: There's a lot of travelling involved. Sure, school teachers and lecturers do organise little field trips for their students, but for DNS students, it's like going on very long field trips! And what I find to be really exciting is the fact that we get to buy, refurbish and drive our own bus through Europe to African countries including the Sahara desert! So essentially, we'll be living in a bus that we stripped and built, then driving it ourselves to African communities to study, learn and live amongst. And that's just the first year! From what I learned from the prep weekend, it is us students that are in charge of our own studies  and how we go about them, and I suppose the teachers are, in a sense, more like facilitators who help, organise and challenge us, whilst keeping us motivated too.  

I'm not sure if I will become a teacher after I finish the course as I seem to never set anything in stone. For now, I can definitely say that I'm looking forward to the experience on what this course has to offer. I like to consider myself as a humanist and a humanitarian and would like to think one day, I will take up activism to try and make a positive change for the world, and this course really does seem to cater for such people (definitely not hippies, haha!).  Spending a few days at the school for the preparatory weekend was the first real step and now all I have got to do is save up for enrollment fee. Hopefully, I shall be flying back out there by August the latest and be part of the 2015 team. 

I just want to add, my dear reader, that if this program sounds like something that would interest you, then here's a link to the DNS website -  http://www.dns-tvind.dk/ You can find out much more information about the school itself and its program, and you can also apply from there (and maybe you can be part of my team!). 

Money is More Valuable Than Time?

With regards to what I named this travel blog of mine, it's basically me summing up the gist of my first post. But spending time alone travelling to different parts of India, I'm reluctant to say that maybe I am wrong to state such a thing. We are very dependent on money; without some we cannot eat, drink nor sleep in a comfortable sheltered bed. Everything else is just wants and luxuries - advertised to tempt people to spend, spend, spend or be bored and unfulfilled. It's very sad to see many people here in India without having the aforementioned necessities because they do not have a rupee on them. Therefore, currency is much more important to them than time is, for they require the necessary evil to live. We all do. It's naive and idyllic of me to say the contrary - time is more valuable. Sure, I do agree with the sentiments of which I meant by it, but realistically, let's face it, it's not true.

Perhaps if people of the world united to devalue currency and we came to abolish the monetary system, it would then perhaps be a true statement. But who is going to get the ball rolling? It would be an anarchic world, sure, but maybe it would be a better one? Governments only have power over us because they have power over how we spend our money. Without money, they would have no control over us.

Also homelessness, poverty, debts and classes only exist because of money, inadvertently causing misery, depression, frustration, anger and any other negativities which are usually directed at the wrong people; currently "benefit scroungers" and "foreigners" are commonly used as scapegoat for peoples anger when it should be directed at the government and wealthy. Such people are the reasons why an idyllic true anarchic world can not exist. I often hear that it would be a survival of the fittest and the powerful ones will exert control, but they already have - they're the "same twats but with a different colour tie".

Now, unfortunately, I'm not intelligent enough to come up with a viable solution to these problems though, and this depresses me. We're all aware that the problems money and governments (same thing) has caused exists, yet callously most of us shrug our shoulders and carry on with our selfish, fortunate lives. Why inconvenience ourselves with a complete overhaul with how we all live our lives that we've come so accustomed too? So dependent on; routine, familiarity, convenience and, more importantly, earning money is what most prefer their daily lives to consist of. Time is money and money is time as people tend to say. How sad.

Last Days

I figured it's about time I give some closure on my travels to India - especially since I've been back in England for a couple of months now! I guess I have been lazy. Well, that and it's hard to motivate myself to do so, since people's interest in what I had been doing in India has wavered since I've been back. So now to finally finish...

Now that I had my flight booked, I only had a few days left and I decided to spend those last days with my good friend, Sam. One early afternoon, we decided to spend some time at Ulsoor Lake since I was interested in seeing it as we had drove past it a couple of times before. First we walked around the outskirts of it where I got some good views so I could take some snaps. Then we walked to the area where you can get a boat ride, stopping to grab some ice-cream first! Sam didn't want to go on a boat as he said he didn't trust them, so I went on a bigger boat with a group of people instead. The captain of this ship took us around the lake only for about 10 minutes; it was brief but pleasant. I guess this is the sort of place where you should take your partner for a romantic boat ride seeing as you can hire those peddle boats. After I got off the boat, me and Sam walked through the park and just chilled there for a bit.

As we walked back to where he parked his bike, a couple of young guys were selling honey on the street. I was interested to taste natural honey so we walked over and Sam asked if it was OK for me to try a sample. Looking at it, it looked disgusting; there were a lot bees - some of which looked dead - on the honeycombs. But nonetheless I decided to give it a try. The street vendor reached in to his bucket filled with honey and broke of a piece of honeycomb for me to try. Not sure what to do with it, I just shoved the whole thing in my mouth after I checked to see if there were any bees clinging on to it. The texture of the honeycomb didn't do much for me and I soon spat that out, but the honey was delicious! Certainly better than the stuff you get in jars with their added preservatives. As we walked, Sam told me about how they get their honey: People employ guys like them to clear away big honeycombs that you can sometimes see attached on to buildings - often very high up in awkward places therefore making it a risky job, and then they sell off the honey to make a bit more profit. 

                                        Hmmm, doesn't that look lovely? Well it was!

                                 We spotted these honeycombs under a bridge 

We then spent the evening pretty close by to where I was staying that was quite heavily populated with muslim people selling a variety of meats. These streets stank of dead animals as you could imagine. It was grimacing seeing the sight of freshly skinned and butchered animals, but it did also make me hungry. After walking around, telling many a man that I didn't want to buy their meat and taking a peek inside the beef market, we then went to a dirty looking restaurant so we could shove our mouths with some delicious dead animal. Even though the place did not look appealing, the chicken certainly was! It was honestly some of the nicest chicken I had tried India. Afterwards, Sam told me the direction back to my hotel and we parted ways. I walked back to my hotel through the still very busy streets at night. 

The following morning, I decided to take a stroll to find a Vodafone shop so I could just top up my balance to last me a couple of days. On my journey, a young man approached me and started conversing with me. His name is Pramod. At first, I thought he was going to try and sell me something, but quickly I just realised he was a friendly chap and just wanted to talk. He walked with me some way and pointed me in the direction of a Vodafone shop. Before we parted ways, we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up for a drink before I go back to England. 

Sam came and picked me up in the afternoon and went for a little drive on his bike, eventually stopping off in a Nepalese populated area. He took me to a Nepalese restaurant where I tried some chicken momo with some mildly hot sauces to dip them in. It was the first time I tried them and I really liked them! Afterwards, we walked around a nearby shopping mall and I bought a doughnut for me and Sam there. We browsed through a book store and then wandered some more before Sam suggested we eat again. 

                                        This sign was outside a kid's maze in the mall.

Sam took me to a Chinese restaurant he frequents and enjoys. A friend of his also works there and he showed me a video of him performing a song on his guitar which was good! I had my ukulele on me and he wanted to hear me play it, so I did. Afterwards he took our orders - I ordered myself some lemon chicken and Sam ordered, erm, some hot and spicy chicken (can't quite remember what it was called). We both shared our plates when they arrived and I could see why he goes there often! After that lovely meal, we called it a day.

It was Friday the following day and I had planned to treat Sam to a meal to thank him for all he had done for me during my stay in Bangalore, and for being a good friend. I also wanted to have a few drinks that night too! Before any of that though, I got on the metro train to Indiranagar to meet up with Sam. He told me that Bindu would be meeting us in a little while so we went for a stroll, stopping to chill out at a beautiful looking little park for a bit, where I drew some attention by playing my ukulele. We met up with Bindu shortly after and decided to head to a nearby cafe. We ordered ourselves some drinks and snacks and talked. It was great to see Bindu again. She showed me some pictures on her laptop of her travels. We spent quite some time in there chatting and left when it got dark. I said a fond farewell to Bindu before she got on a tuk-tuk to get home.

I had decided that we eat at The Only place - probably my favourite restaurant in Bangalore, so I wanted to eat there one last time. It was worth it as, as usual, the meal was very delicious! I had some battered chicken steaks. After a meal, I wanted to have a few beers at a bar called Le Rock. As the name implies, it's bar that plays rock music. Perfect! It was then that I messaged Pramod to let him know where we were. I ordered a pitcher of Kingfisher beer to share. Soon, Pramod arrived and I introduced him to Sam and vice versa. We chatted, sang along to the awesome songs being played, drank and smoked. It was just like a Friday night in England! Sam left before us and me and Pramod didn't stay much longer. He walked with me back to my hotel, chilled and had a cigarette with me before saying our farewells and going home. 

Saturday was my last full day in India. Sam didn't tell me what we'd be doing that day. Just that he would come and pick me up and we'll go for a long drive somewhere. Sure enough, he came and got me late in the morning and off we went. He took us on the highway and we eventually got out of Bangalore so he wasn't kidding when he said we'd go for a long drive! It was nice riding a long the highway; the traffic wasn't so dense, the roads were in good shape and the view of the surrounding areas were quite lovely to boot. So as Sam was driving, I bravely took some photos with my camera. 

We must have been on the road for about an hour and half before we finally stopped for a refreshment. Sam said we were very close to a waterpark called Wonderla and very quickly decided we should go there. Why the hell not. 

It was fairly expensive to get in and because we didn't have any spare clothes on us (we didn't plan on getting wet after all!), Sam bought us a cheap pair of shorts. The first thing we done after we got changed was jump straight in to the large pool. Much like the waterpark I went to last year in Chennai, this too was very lively with people dancing, singing and splashing about in the water. Waterparks in India are a lot more fun than in England I've found. There were quite a few white-knuckle rides dotted about the place, so I went on some of them. Sam opted out though as he doesn't like them. Of course, there were many water slides there and we went on them. They also hold a "raindance;" inside the building, people get to dance to some cheesy music as a lot of water sprinkles over them. Not my cup of tea, but it was enjoyable seeing Sam get his groove on as well as the many others. I just used the place as somewhere to get a hot shower! We didn't have any towels on us, so we sat and ate whilst we dried. Although the sun was starting to set, it was still very hot and it didn't take too long to dry off in the heat. Once we got back in to our dry clothes, we set off back in to the city. It was a very nice drive on the way back as the sun set. 

The roads were very dense with traffic on the way in to the city; so much so that Sam decided to take a shortcut along the derelict pavements to navigate through the traffic, much to my discomfort. We eventually made it back to my hotel where I grabbed some cash and told Sam to take us Lakeview so I could get some of that lovely ice-cream one last time. And that was my final day. Fortunately, I didn't have much to pack that evening. I had come reasonably light when I set off to India, and now was even lighter as I had disposed off a couple of my clothes - my new books were more important! 

Sam came and picked me up late in the morning to take me somewhere to grab an early lunch. We stopped off at small restaurant and ordered some boneless spicy chicken. I also had a pint of Fosters. Sam pulled out a bag and handed it to me; he bought me a t-shirt as a gift. I promised that when I next come, he can have my ukulele as he said he wanted it (now I have a new one, I most certainly will give him it). Afterwards, we went back to my hotel so I could grab my bags and I said a fond farewell to the receptionist/manager/owner too. He was a very pleasant chap and we often had brief conversations when I saw him. I told him I would be more than happy to stay there again should I come back to Bangalore again. Anyway, Sam and I set off to meet his cousin and friend as they would be accompanying us to the airport. His cousin (unfortunately I have forgotten his name) also took one of my bags to unburden me a little which was nice of him. Once again we were back on the highway and Sam was driving really fast this time. I must admit, I was a little frightened at going such a speed without no protection whatsoever. But fortunately, we made it to the airport safe and sound after about an hours drive. 

So this was it. My time in India was over already and a lot sooner than I had anticipated; unfortunately, some plans didn't go accordingly and I had spent quite a bit staying in hotels. I did also indulge in more expensive but nicer food too. You can take me out of a western society but you can't take the western society out of me. Although, upon reflection I did really enjoy my time spent in the rural villages - Mallakunta especially - where I ate food straight from the land and also ate food cooked for me. Although I didn't particularly enjoy eating rice all the time, the experience was still very worthwhile and I enjoyed every minute of it. 

What I enjoyed the most, though, was spending time with old friends and making new ones. I will always cherish their friendships. And with that, I gave Sam a hug and we said our goodbyes. 

The Pastor and the Slum Children

I wasn't meeting Sam until late afternoon, so once again I decided to head to Cubbon Park for a bit for some morning relaxation; although not without stopping to get some breakfast first! I saw a nice desolated area away from where some people were and sat up by a tree to keep myself in the shade. I used this rare time of some outdoor solitude to start doing some sketching. 

After a while, quite a few young school children accompanied by a few of their teachers occupied a space nearby me, but initially did not pay me any mind. Eventually though, me drawing did catch the attention of one of the teachers who praised my drawing in its current state. Being the ever so inquisitive person (much like most people in India from my experience), he then proceeded to ask me questions about myself. I politely answered and then asked him about himself; he's a pastor called David.   

Once he felt comfortable with me, he decided to sit by me still intrigued with me. I had my ukulele with me (I always did in India) and naturally he asked if I could demonstrate it. I didn't mind so I played him a few chords and told him about the instrument. After a while, the formalities of getting to know one another eventually turned in to a conversation about religion - christianity to be specific. I knew there was a potential for this happening as he is a pastor of course, although, when religion is usually brought up in conversation in India, it is soon quelled once I inform the person that I am an atheist and do not belong to any religion. Me being an atheist only seemed to intrigue David more, though. 

Like any devout christian would I imagine, he asked why I did not believe in his god (In hindsight, I wish I would have said that he too is an atheist about other gods and I just go one god further; how he feels about the existence of, say Zeus, is how I feel about the existence of Jehovah). I simply told him that I believe that man created god(s); perhaps initially to explain the creation of this planet and life on it, which, as primitive beings as they were thousands of years ago, would have found comfort in that. Although men eventually used god(s) to exploit the gullible and to instill fear in to them for power and for wealth. I also quoted Alan Moore's character Sir William Gull (otherwise known as Jack the Ripper in his depiction) in his graphic novel From Hell - "The one place god inarguably exists is in our minds...", which I think to be true. 

He was baffled by what I said as, of course, this contradicted his beliefs. He asked me if I could be a father to my father. Biologically no, I told him to state the obvious. And he used that answer to refute what I said - a straw man fallacy I think it's called. There are children who have had to and are looking after their father, perhaps due to a tragic accident or illness, so sentimentally, yes, someone could be a father to their father. This seemed irrelevant to my reasoning though.  

He went on to tell me about his past; he was in a bad place and very depressed. One night he went to jump off a bridge to commit suicide, but was stopped by what he recalls was the voice of god telling him not to as he is destined for great things. It was then that he became a christian. Of course, I am in no position to refute David's experience as I can not possibly know for certain what one experiences, even if the skeptic in me thinks a delusional or hallucinatory one; personal anecdotes can often be unreliable. I can theorise that perhaps his conscience had gotten the better of him, and due to his sever depression, he wanted to find meaning in life as well as comfort; it's quite common for people who are in a "bad place" to turn to religion to find purpose in their lives. I didn't tell him this though as for 1) he would still have said that god spoke to him and 2) I like to live and let live. If people want to believe in god(s) and base their entire life around them, then so be it. It doesn't bother me too much that religions still exist as, at least in my experience, religious people have been very pleasant to me and have not proselytised me - although David did seem really close to try doing that! But I wrote it off as him just simply asking questions leading to discussions. Of course I'm aware that wars and conflicts have been caused by religions, but extremists are very much the minority in religious groups. So my second point still stands. 

Speaking of finding purpose in life, he did actually ask what it is I do without religion. I went on to tell him that I too have suffered from depression, but do not need religion to find purpose or meaning or happiness in life; I can find solace in the beauty of nature, my experiences and endeavors in life, and my encounters and interactions with people from all walks in life - hence me wanting to travel. I also told him I can be a good person without trying adhere to a god in order to get a place reserved for me in afterlife (if such a thing exists!). I'm a kind, good-natured and caring person because I am; my happiness is making other people happy too. Simply, I'm a humanitarian and a I'm humanist.  

He respected my answers and told me he liked me. I would just like to add that despite our differences of beliefs, we discussed this touchy subject politely and calmly. I found David to be a very pleasant man and quite enjoyed our discussion. Anyway, I guess he too could see that this religious debate would end in stalemate and we talked about other things as well.

During our conversations, his wife, Mary, brought over some refreshments and bananas whilst I went on to ask him about the children. He told me that they are children who reside in slum areas and he helps to educate them, hoping that when they are older they will have a happy and prosperous life. I disliked what he said next about also teaching them about the word of god and, well, basically indoctrinating them in to christianity, which I disagree with. He believes that he is doing gods work and it is by gods grace that these children will lead good lives. I say it's by the grace of good and caring people myself. These teachers and their parents can better the children's lives; not god(s). I thought god doesn't intervene with us humans anyway? Don't christians always say that god doesn't stop suffering because he has plan? Or that he works in mysterious ways (vague answers, eh)? If that's the case, then is it not a waste of time to pray to him (or her) for the good welfare and happiness of people? I didn't actually ask any of these questions to David. I just got in to a slight train of thought as I typed this. If a christian reads this then perhaps they can answer.

Eventually it got to lunchtime and David and his colleagues asked me to join them and the children for lunch. I wasn't too hungry but took them up on their offer anyway. They placed down some blankets on the grass for the children and us to sit on whilst we ate. We had some chicken curry, rice and onion salad. It was very nice! Whilst eating, I got talking to a chap called Peter (notice the similarities with their names?) who was also a very nice man that also liked to travel. He's very fond of music too and knew right away what my instrument was! He asked me to play a song for him and the children and I happily obliged. I performed (probably terribly) Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole for them. Peter actually knew the songs and sang quietly with me while the children gathered around and listened. One child even started tapping to give a sound of a drum. For my first little performance in front of more than one or two people, it went quite well and I was very happy when they all applauded me after.

The children were curious about my uke and wanted to have a go, so I let them play with it for a little while whilst I talked with Peter and the others. A short while later, they had to leave. I said a fond farewell to them all and David gave me his e-mail address and asked me to attend their church on Sunday. I would have gone actually, but I would be heading back to England that day. 

It had been a lovely morning and afternoon, and I very much enjoyed my company that day. Even though we may have very differing opinions and beliefs, we still got on very well; a person's religion, ethnic, culture and nationality are not things I care to take in to account when befriending someone. 

A New Hope

Once again, I got on the metro train from Mahatma Gandhi Road to get to Indira Nagara to meet up with Sam. He drove us and parked up nearby so we could go for a walk around the neighbourhood and shops. We stopped at a restaurant called Empire where Sam treated me to a meal. Afterwards, he took me to a shopping plaza called Forum as he was interested to know what films were showing. No film intrigued him nor me, so we then browsed in a book store for a little while. I bought some Thai chocolate strawberry hearts (It wasn't long after Valentines Day. And for the record, they were disgusting. Sam and a security officer I gave one to, also thought so) and, I can't remember what we were discussing beforehand, but he started telling me about an orphanage he sometimes visit. 

I was very interested in going as I've never visited such a place before, so right there and then we decided to go. On our long journey there, Sam told me a little about the place; a Mr. Raja set up an organisation called New Ark Mission of India and had set up this community called The Home of Hope, where they accommodate and help to re-build the lives of those poor and unfortunate people who are left to die on the streets; the place accommodates the terminally ill, elderly as well as children - although they live in separate housings. 

About three-quarters of the way, we stopped off at a stall as Sam suggested we bring them some food. So I gave him 100rs to go towards some bread rolls off which we got thirty of. We then made the rest of the journey there.

Once we arrived, we made our way to the office. There were a lot of elderly residents about; some just wandering and socialising, and some were sitting and sleeping on the floor. One woman grabbed my arm then shook and help my hand asking where I came from. She just smiled at me once I told her that I am from England. We didn't have to wait to long for Mr. Raja to come and greet us. Sam introduced me to him and then they talked for a brief time. Sam then told me that because they are over 150 elderly residents there, we should go over to the orphanage and hand the bread to the children. Before we left, he told me that most of the elderly residing there are terminally ill. Having worked in a nursing home before, I could tell.  

A young woman (it sounded like her name was similar to Erika?) and a pet dog escorted us to where the orphanage is. Some of children were outside playing and, unlike the elderly residents, didn't pay me any mind at all. We handed over the bags of bread rolls over to a staff member who then shouted for all the children to come and handed the rolls out to them. Evidently they were hungry as they all pushed and shoved one another, hurdled around the staff member to get their fair share. I noticed that most of the children had had their hair shaved off, so curious as to know why, I asked Sam why that was. He told me it's because when they are found on the streets, they are very dirty and often have lice and ticks, so the staff shave their hair to keep them clean, hygienic and, of course, to stop the pests from spreading. And with that question answered, I just smiled at the children greedily shoving the bread in to their mouths.   

We didn't stay too long, unfortunately, and headed back to where he parked his bike just outside where the elderly stay. Due to the large number of residents, it is hard to accommodate and feed them all as they just don't have the funds nor the resources for everybody there. And this was very depressingly evident as just as we started to drive off, I heard an elderly lady shout out, "Please come back, sir. I'm hungry."

Those words echoed through my head for rest of the evening. It's very sad to hear as you can imagine. It's times like that I just wish had millions in my bank account because, for sure, I would go back and make sure they are all fed for the rest of their lives, and have plenty enough resources so they could sustain themselves too. I also thought about the NHS and how a lot of care homes in the UK and the staff that work in them get a lot of flak and negativity in the press; at least they all get fed, have beds to sleep on, get medication etc. Sure, fuck ups happen. But surely not to the extent where residents are deprived of necessities in life. And for the record, most care staff are good damn hard workers if you ask me. 

Cubbon Park

I met up with Sam on Saturday and we went on the metro train to get to an area called Indi Nagara as his bike was parked there, and then he drove me to his friend's workplace to meet Santosh (sp?). We grabbed some lunch and Sam got out his laptop to make some arrangements for me to visit Ooty, but, unfortunately I was running extremely low cash by this point; I'm very poor at managing my money and didn't budget as well as I planned to. Oh well. I was happy to spend another week or so in Bangalore anyway as I was enjoying my time there.

After we finished lunch, he dropped me back off my hotel where I decided to downgrade in to a smaller and cheaper room for 300rs per night. There was no TV or en-suite toilet, or anyway to put my clothes; just a bed and a small table. This meant I had to share the wash room and toilet with other people but I didn't mind. At least the bed was comfortable and the room cosy. Now that I was saving a bit of money, I decided to venture out in to Guzzlers Inn that night to have a couple of beers. I went upstairs as there's a smoking area - indoors too! It felt good to once again be able to have a cigarette and a pint at a table. The atmosphere was generally good too; people were singing a long to the hard rock classics that was being played, whilst watching English football on the big screen. Just to reiterate what I said about this place last time: It felt just like any English pub. But you could smoke in this one!

The majority of the week I spent alone down Cubbon Park. Sam and Santosh had gone to Kerala for a couple of days you see. It's a massive green park with rock formations, botanic areas and plenty of seats and wide open space where people often sit and eat. I walked around the whole park one time to take some snaps of the place. But for the most part, I would often walk there to just relax and practice playing my ukulele or draw. Of course, this meant I drew attention to myself and would often get, usually, a small group of young lads requesting me to play them a song, or show them my drawing, or even ask me to draw them. For the most part I didn't mind getting pestered by people, but when I wanted to be just left alone for 30 minutes, it could get quite exasperating telling the umpteenth person to just leave me alone and stop taking pictures of me when I am not doing anything (coming from someone who often takes snaps of people myself, I know. But I prefer to be behind the camera a lot of the times and when I do take snaps of people, I ask them first or I take one stealthily)! 

So, it was a welcome lonely and somewhat relaxing few days I had. It's nice to just be surrounded by the tranquility of nature sometimes - especially in a busy and noisy city. 

Safari, Beef and beer!

After a long and adventurous week, the following day after my short time in Mysore, I used the morning to take some much needed rest. And to wash my clothes too; a menial task of using shampoo (a cheaper and lighter alternative of using washing detergent) and a bucket of water. Hey, it does the job.

Sam picked me up in the afternoon as we had planned to go on a safari which I was quite looking forward to as I had never been on one before. It was quite a long drive so we stopped to have ourselves some sugar cane juice. Once we arrived, we paid our tickets and waited for the transportation to come. I was expecting a jeep like the ones I have seen on television, but instead we had a minibus with cages attached to the windows that obscured our view somewhat, and also hindered me taking any good snaps. So it wasn't as enjoyable as I had anticipated. But I still managed to get some snaps of bears and white tigers - or rather an employee did for me as he had a better view than I! Afterwards, Sam dropped me off back at the lodge.

Sam came back to meet me in the evening and we went up to M.G road for a walk. He took me to a commercialised and a heavy populated area. Again, there were many western shops and restaurants. Eventually he took me to a restaurant called The Only Place. It's menu consists of a wide variety of western food including beef! As it turns out, there are plenty of Indian people who do eat beef. Sam told me that a lot of people in India no longer deem cows to be sacred and so are fine with eating them. I guess the people of these more modern areas of India really are letting go of old traditions.  A lot of Muslims like to eat it here anyway though. Although, you still won't find beef in the more rural towns and villages where people are still very traditional.

Seeing as beef is my favourite meat, I opted to try a cheese beef burger, and holy cow it was delicious! Genuinely one of the best burgers I have had in a while. And very cheap too! For the burger and chips only costed me 180rs; that's a couple of quid less than a Mcdonalds burger meal!

After the enjoyable meal, I told Sam I fancied a beer (it was a Friday night afterall), so we headed to a pub called Guzzlers Inn. The interior looks like very much like a British pub, so it felt good to sit in there and have a pint of strong lager, and to have had great company too. Sam is like my own chauffeur and my personal knowledgeable tour guide; but more than that, he is becoming a good friend whose friendship, kindness, generousity and company I shall always appreciate and cherish. It seems we have already come a long way from just being two strangers on a train. We only had had one drink in there before we decided to call it a night.