Le moi errant: Distance

The distance has several measures. The most common is space. We have point A and point B and measure how many units of things there are in that space. If we, Europeans, say meters the Americans say miles. The important thingis the physical quantity to know what separates the two points. Another way is to measure the distance with time. We measure how many beats there is between someone getting from point A to point B. This is called minutes, hours or days.

Since I started the trip, I discovered that it was not yet devised a measure for its distance. I know I've spent more than three months since I started it. Or that I am over 10 000 kms from my hometown. But this does not measure the distance I already walked. In a trip, you multiply time with moments, and space is diminished by contact. This changes all the concepts you have learned throughout your life. I believe that transmitting distance is the most difficult task I have. Today, three months later, much has happened. I'm not the same. However, I never felt so close to myself.

Story of a Picture: Life

At first sight, it is only a beautiful landscape. I had a good perspective on Jodhpur. The skyline was beautiful and there was no way I wouldn't take this photo. It was a small balcony at the fort of Jodhpur. Nothing was blocking my vision and sometimes I had the illusion of being in midair.

I ended up staying a while. I realized the difference between the moment I capture and the reality that is captured. If at first I photographed the horizon, the choice came for another reason. When you wait, this landscape changes. The roofs of the city begin show movement. Here and there, you see a woman drying clothes or a man resting. The longer I stayed, the more the horizon disappeared and the motion captured my attention. I see children playing, students from one school enjoying on the playground, or a family having a morning meal.

It becomes a scene of life. At this point everything you see moves and you notice what is really beautiful in this picture: the amount of life that manages to capture. Without it I wouldn't be sitting there at that time. The horizon would just another one and I would have nothing to sit in and contemplate.

Other Travelers IV - Hannah Howes

More than anything else I found a friend. The hands of fate wanted we to share the same Rickshaw, and she ended up being the "key" that allowed me to unlock Rajasthan. Received from her music, the desert and Bundi. But most of all a chance to meet a very special person and a generous soul.

And all that Hannah is, goes into her voice. Something not available to everyone. When  she gave me her site was one of those moments that will stay in memory. At the first chords of "Strings Attached" a smile formed. And when her voice began I was rendered. The Candy album, which this song belongs to, was a great acquisition for the soundtrack of this journey.

But the music that binds me to repeat over and over again - and the one I leave it here - is "Candy." A strong and melodic music. And when you are in India, surrounded by the most beautiful smiles of children, you just end up agreeing with her.

I hope you enjoy and leave the suggestion to visit her site to know more.

A photo

It started in Mumbai. With a promise of going to a small town near Udaipur. In the euphoria of the moment it did not seem much to do 200 kilometers to take a picture. It meant going to an “untouristic” place. Something I always wanted to do in this trip.

In Udaipur, and away from the excitement of the moment, it no longer seemed such a good idea. Only with two days, I would have to make a choice between knowing better Udaipur or going to Rajsamand. The word was given, and I would not back down. I left happy with the decision and anxious to know what was coming. I rickshaw my way to the bus stand. A few questions and got the first surprise: I was buying a bus ticket in a... ticket office.

Minutes later I was leaving the station in a bus with some smooth parts between the bumps of road traffic crashes. A good harbinger of stability of the trip. And here they do justice to the warnings. Among a more abrupt braking or a quasi-impossible overtaking, the trip was a thrill. To relax I have a landscape that fills the eye. From the top of a semi-arid mountain, we have a broad vision for this region. Here time is harder, and the vegetation reflects this change. The geography of the region changes the gardens that I cross. The large estates of the south give way to small gardens in the north. Unifying it a green only possible in this country.

Delighted with the trip, it's time to worry about the final destination. Rajsamand is a stoppage in transit, so I have to find the right time to leave. If I knew Hindi it wouldn't be a problem, but it isn't the case. I resort to a trick that saved me in similar situations. The sites of commerce have a poster advertising with its address. You just have to take into account two details: (a) if the site is small are most cards - if not all - are in Hindi, (b) sometimes advertises an address of some shop elsewhere. A simple majority rule solves the problem.

With that in mind, I started my research. After a while since I read Rajsamand everywhere. After all the site wasn't small. Without great difficulty I was where I wanted to be. And what a place! It was like finding a small paradise. This was truly an Indian village. Cannot find any tourist. There is all the colors, details and features you usually see spread across multiple locations. But all live and more intense. I reached the roundabout and meet the cows and pigs that walk by. The commerce stall that circumvent the street with their fruit, candy, food, etc ... In the middle, and through the traffic that follows its own logic, I find people and their colorful saris. Many look at me with that question: "What is that stranger  doing here?" Children, less given to philosophies, just smile.

I begin my research, and easily find someone willing to help. Tells me that the school is located in the street leaving the roundabout. I follow this road, which remains very Indian, and when the time comes - after a few meters without finding the school – I ask again. “It's nearby” they answer but I awake enough curiosity to have a brief conversation. I explain  what I did, what I do and what I'm going to do there. They return with a smile and a compliment to our country.

I arrive at my destination. A land where a family of Indian pigs makes its meal, and a wall limits the space. I go to the gate and shoot the picture I wanted. Not content with the result, I decided to enter. At first I only see students rushing to class. Shortly after I meet the teachers. Here the teachers' room is on the street. They stares at this stranger and I try to change this situation. After the ice is broken, I'm greeted with enormous sympathy. They tell me to sit, bring me tea, and go to the street to buy sweets.

I'll explain my story and tell a little about myself. I realize that taking a photo inside is not simple, but they try to satisfy my request. I get to know the reality of this space. As it is old, and was part of the royal complex. Discover what kind of classes are over there - it's a secondary school - and where are the classrooms. After a while a teacher asks me to give him the pleasure of showing the village. I cannot believe my luck.

And before I realized, I was hanging on to his bike - a Hero Honda - crossing the traffic. Something that is in itself a highlight on a trip to this country. We understand better how this dynamic works, and it doesn't seem so chaotic. After surrounding the small mountain, we reached a large lake. A construction of 19th century, which allows to deliver clean water to all surrounding villages. A lake created by a small dam. In it, three temples and places of baths make up this building. They are finely decorated and built of white marble. Its reliefs have that typical look of a lost temple. The lake and the mountains that surround it give you a scenario hard to match.

We now head to another location: the Children's Peace Palace of Anuvibha. A house that promotes a culture of peace and nonviolence in children by doing a holiday camp for 20 days. Also - and as a result of this organization - medical specialists travel to these facilities from Mumbai. For 3 days they meet the people of this region. Perhaps the only possibility of having access to such care. I realize the influence that this site can have in life, the reality of this region and I am humbled. What we take for granted back home, is a luxury here, only accessible to some by generous gestures.

We now go for the third highlight. The temple which the architect of the dam built in honor of his God. It is the highest point in the region. Though small is beautiful. The marble is finely carved and decorated, with a technique that no longer exists. Ascending the staircase we find the ancient and modern together. Although a temple, the area is also used for the construction of new pieces to one another in construction. The teacher leads me to the top of this place. And how beautiful it is. On one side we see the entire lake and the mountains that flank it. On the other, Rajsamand, the green valley and the small rounded mountains. The horizon line is a diffuse and we are small with such a view.

After this moment it is time to return. He takes me to the bus stop, and I do not know how to thank him. I'm back in the busy street life. And with an Indian punctuality, I catch my bus. While going back I feel that everything has a meaning. A simple picture became a magical day and a delay allows me to go back followed by a beautiful sunset.

Carnival break

As you noticed, this week there will be no posts I'm sorry that I only wrote now, but the trip as a mind of its own and didn't let me until now. Next Monday everything will be back to normal :)

Unforgettable Mumbai

January, 15th. Don't forget this date. If you pass it in India make sure you are in Mumbai. It is time the Kite Festival. That was my last image of the city. I left at sunset, and the sky was composed of thousands of kites.

What I remember is the joy of people - adults and children - playing with them. My bus went through the slums of Mumbai. In this city, buildings and the more touristy areas are small islands that contrast with the rest. Constituted by crude houses of brick or zinc, there are in the slums as much variety as the people who build them. Those swaying silhouettes of children in the metal roofs stand out. Trying to master the kite, it seemed a beautiful dance. There, between day and night we don't see the living conditions, but the joy. Demonstrating that nothing is greater than the smile of people.

The same kind of smile that said goodbye to me when I entered the bus. I waited three hours for it to arrive. I didn't feel like seing this city. And how I was mistaken. Within that wait, I saw more city than I could imagine possible. I was adopted by the friendliness of the owners and employees of travel agencies in LBS Marg. A wide avenue in the airport area. "Shops" that are prefabricated stalls supporting local families and dreams. I get candy and stories. Find out how much a person earns and what does the word Jolar (cheater). I find the "king" of Jolars and his companions. More than anything, I find the sheer friendliness and hospitality of the people. How they have simple ambitions and generous hearts. I learn that the unexpected is the theme of a trip like this.

As unexpected as finding a taxi driver who knows other Portuguese and speaks one or two words in our language. That trip to the travel agency was entering the world of my driver. Muslim taxi driver, very friendly and fun. Teach me your way of life and family cohesion in the Muslim culture. Asks me about my trip while describing the city and its life. How his business isn't very good on days like this. Weekends, where people go to the city by car or public transport. Say this while keeping in the same lane for about 4 km. Mumbai has surprisingly straight avenues and no traffic in this Sunday. I have the impression that the city paused for me to see it in the little time I had.

And how it was calm when I arrived. On exiting the station, I find a city of great Gothic buildings and wide avenues. With sidelanes that are ... sidelanes. Meeting tourists who wander in the city's attractions and shpos that are slowly opening. I find that it is a day of marathon. One reason for the lack of traffic. It gives me a chance to explore at my own pace the Avenue Mahatma Gandhi and its buildings. This whole area is a tourist place like any other city in the world. Despite being in India, Mumbai belongs to the "country" of large cities. Which places like Paris or New York are also part. And when I finally come to the Gate of India – a large monument that welcomes those who come from the sea – I know that this city will be very different than I thought. And what I thought impossible has happened: I had adapted to the pace of India.

I felt that when I reached the station. It was four in the morning. More or less the same time when I landed in India for the first time. On that day all was confusion and overwhelming. It scared me, like any demanding place does. Now it wasn't so. The number of people were just that. The area seemed organized and I didn't feel "crushed" when I went out to smoke and was approached by taxi drivers. Everything was simple and easy. The decision to wait for the sunrise was done in the most natural way. Not even the rat that was walking through the atrium of the station bothered me. Frankly, I felt sorry for it. it was crippled in one leg and was limping to get to its destination. Perhaps this is one of the major lessons that have already seized. The respect, instead of disgust, for all living beings.

Don't know if I'll return to Mumbai. It was too intense to visit this place so soon. But anything can happen in a trip. A stay of 3 days transforms in a mere glimpse. And this into an unforgettable experience.

Le moi errant: Smile

I write this post for you. For all the reasons. The question that once you asked, still echoes in my mind: Will I have the same smile? Still no answer.

I know that the smiles of others have changed me. It is impossible to be indifferent to so many. Whether the one of children who play with little concern, whether the friendly smile of adults. How to be indifferent to the smiles when you arrive or the gentle ones when you leave? You keep these moments for the rest of your life. Moments that touch you. They give happiness, and you cannot stop feeling humbled by such an offer.

I do not know if my smile is the same. What I know is that an eyes' smile can change a life. In a single moment everything is different. So I do not know if my will remain. If I can pass a little the ones I see, then you find it more brilliant. One, that I hope will touch you too. Since it is now impossible to you to see it, I wish, now that read me, you can already smile a little...

Story of a photo: Four

Behind a picture is always life. In this case the lives of four boys. It was taken inside a bus while leaving Mumbai. They were four simple guys playing but I saw four lives that overcome their surroundings. A slum, which has no beauty besides the one of the people who inhabit it. And it becomes unique. There is no distractions in this photo. And no doubt who shines. These four - who I saw little more than their shadows - gave me a lesson. All we have are opportunities to see shadows of life. Spent in acts of sharing and happiness. Immune, but integrated, in their surroundings. Transforming a simple image into something beautiful, just like life is.

Train Journey

It was with a big smile I got the ticket. And I went like that to the train station in Chennai - Chennai Central. Although not beautiful, it has its own beauty. One of travel and movement. Goodbyes, hugs and the hurry of arrival to destination. I'm always nervous when I'm about to leave. A nerve that was being consumed by tobacco until I had just one cigarette.

With this task accomplished, I enter the terminal. I find my platform, and move on toward the train. With the number in mind, and time in hand, the carriage and the place was easily found. Walk by 2nd class and realize why it is not recommended for tourists. It's amazing how many people can fit into so little space.

I go to my carriage, which is a huge upgrade ... ok, not that much. The big difference between them is that here you have more space. And that makes all the difference. Although the coach takes more people than seats available, is airy enough to make you feel at ease. Inside all was white and blue. Now it is camouflaged by the dark of dust and antiquity. The fans need help of a hair comb to start. A traveler – a professional for sure – gets one started. I have some mosquitoes for company, and think it will be a good choice to upgrade. The 1st class no longer seems a luxury but a necessity.

Once the train starts, we enter another world. The bed preparation starts. The chair backs are raised and attached to two chains creating the midle berth. The bottom is where we were sitting. I was in the bottom one. Two Indian friends ask me to “go up a level” because they are travelling together. No problem with that. All prepare their beds. Friends discuss for the best place, while others make the bed on the floor. After one hour we're all lying and other symphony begins to overcome the rails. A snoring one. And what could be something bad, brings peace to my consciousness. Runs a rumor - certainly an evil one – that I snore. If true, and not saying it is, it is good to have company.

During the night, the biggest problem is the cold. Being a metal carriage with little insulation, the temperature falls to levels unimagined in India. To the point that my neurons no longer work and I forget that I had a sleeping bag. I spent half the night trying to find the best position to keep my precious heat. When the first rays of sun touch the coach I feel a huge relief. With a new day, comes a new animation.

To the chorus of conversations and morning rites, joins the voice of the vendors. We know the experience of every seller by the conviction, and musicality, that they tout their products. Complete meals - with the delicious smell of spices to follow - snacks, fruit, coffee, tea and even jewelery. Transforming that corridor into a bazaar similar to many others.

After 14 hours, addiction begins to tighten. By now I ask all the sellers if they sell cigarettes. But I just confirm what I already knew: in the Indian stations they do not sell it. With more refined senses, a black and yellow “group” near a small station awakens my attention. From the window I could see the rickshaws parked across the line. I go to the door to confirm my intuition: nearby was one of those little Indian grocery shops. Probably they were the inspiration for the sport billy's bag. Look to the left. Look to the right. And run like my life depended on it. It wasn't life that I feared but that a train arrived and blocked my way back. I hit a 50 meters' record. And I believe the speed at which I said "tabac, cigarrettes, tabac" was identical to the touters on buses. Cigarettes in hand and I return calmer. I didn't hear any train, and mine was still in the same place. When the passengers saw the cigarettes they ask me where I had bought them. I tell my story. Strangely, no one followed my example.

By this time, the coach seemed to be my little Indian home. On one side overlooked the city. On the other, the field. I forget all that feeling of strangeness and willingness to change for first class. When I go to sleep, cradled by a beautiful sunset, I feel that better home was impossible...

Story of a train ticket...

"The long-awaited train journey is about to happen!" I thought when I booked the ticket online. It is impossible to speak in India without them. The train is the transport I like the most. I'm not the only one. At least one sixth of the world population shares the same taste. So, the train tickets are sold out and we ended up on a waiting list.

All the time I opted for the bus. It was cheaper and more flexible. I don't have anything planned. The freedom to arrive at a bus station and just be dropped into a final destination was too appealing to ignore it. But I didn't want to go from the South to the North by bus. The distance was perfect to go by train. I booked two weeks in advance and had 25 people ahead of me in the waiting list. Something I didn't worry because we usually obtain confirmation in the last days. For now the priority was to visit the wonderful city of Chennai.

It was the the day before the last one. I was a little nervous. The biggest problem was the uncertainty. I couldn't mark the hotel without ticket confirmation. With only 8 people to cancel, I hoped to obtain it. That night, with nothing to do about this situation, I went for a a coffee with some friends from couchsurfing. I decided to seize the moment with no worries.

I begin with a startle. They tell me that I should have booked a hotel in Mumbai. But five minutes later, I had a place to sleep in Mumbai or, if necessary, in Chennai. Before going to the hotel, I check one last time the number on the waiting list. Only five more.

The last day is here. I wait for confirmation of the ticket. The final list of passengers would be ready four hours before the start of the train (schedulled to leave at 12:00 a.m.).

9:00 a.m. - my status doesn't change. I still have five people ahead of me. Worse, the list isn't ready yet.

9:30 a.m. - my status changes to 2. The worst that could happen. I'm caught between losing the value of the ticket or running to the train station trying not to miss the train.

9:55 a.m. - nothing changes. By this time I try to find alternatives. The day before I learned that there are last minute tickets - laklal. Once bought they are confirmed. The site is offline and I cannot subscribe to buy the Laklal ticket.

10:00 a.m. - A new update tells me that the list is being prepared. Still at number 2. Everything will be decided now.

10:10 a.m. - the verdict comes ... no ticket for me.

Time to look for alternatives. The train company's website is now available and I can buy the Laklal ticket. I completed the forms, find the train I wanted and... one more waiting list. I didn't want an encore, so I try the old fashion way: through an agent. The cybercafe where I was also sells train tickets. By now, the commission I would pay doesn't seems so expensive. During the conversation - and with the luck of a power cut - I find that the agent makes the buying online. I already knew the outcome of this. But as I was in India, I decided to leave the possibility open. I try one last alternative before the electricity returns: buy a ticket within the foreign quota.

For this I have to go to the station, and didn't know what to expect. The Lonely Planet said it was efficient. But in India, this has a great latitude. After finding a rickshaw, I lose a few minutes to negotiate the fare. Something only God, Allah or Ganesh knows why. What the previous day - with all the time in the world – I accepted without much hesitation, today it was impossible for me to pay. Eventually it did compensate. I managed half the price but with three times the passengers.

The station is huge and degraded. As I expected. I feel something forgotten. The travel vibe of a train station. Recovering the passion of trains, I knew that, no matter what, the trip would be done by train. A simple question and I get the desired indication. It looks like a semi-clandestine local tax office. New indication and I was in the room I wanted. Five indian minutes later, I had the ticket in hand and a smile on my face. When I left that station, the world ceased to be a stress. I returned to the tranquility of my trip.

In fact I'd never left it. These concerns are not concerns with so much open-ended options. These are as big as your imagination and luck. In this Friday 13th, it smiled to me once again. Delivered by the hands of gentle Divya.

A Indian Puzzle

Just finished a part of the trip. I passed through the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, so typical of the first phase. I found myself and rediscover me. Just to lose myself once again. South India played a decisive role. Following a cliché, it can't be indifferent to it. And if the majority thinks of the North when he says this, I can confirm that in the South is the same. I revisit the places where I spent, state to state. It's weird doing it in that way. It is as true to say that each state is different, as is saying that they are a homogeneous whole. Now that I go to the North, this is what I take. An impossible place. A place where extremes coexist, without ever being extremes.

Goa

It is the most different state. And also the most Portuguese. This explosive mix of India and Portugal, makes Goa a unique place. A changing reality. Whether through the Indian acculturation - more real but less sense - or the hippie acculturation - more visible but less durable. The reality is that Goa continues to do today what you did in the past. Seized the culture, transforms individuals, and creates its own children. Today the Portuguese are as children of Goa as is the trance culture. And there are no illusions, we are in India. Not one it crushes you. One that invites you to be and where you have don't want to get out.

Karnakata

Gives you contrasting sensations. From the magical charm of Hampi to the technological reality of Bangalore, the state offers you everything. And I didn't enjoyed the beaches - which are a strong competitor to Goa. I'll have to explore more in the future define it. Turned out to be the State that opened me up to the spirit of India. Here you understand better how this reality is made.

Kerala

It is the little princess of Southern India. One that fills you with strong emotions. Open any guide who speaks of Southern India, and it will tell you to go to Kerala. I hadn't understood why, until being mesmerized for its landscapes and people. They are simply magnificent. In a short distance you go from a water paradise to a dream mountain. In the way, a culture that captivates you and a sympathy that binds you. Here you learn to let it go. Everything has a solution, although not one that you had planned.

Tamil Nadu

Here the world is flat. Always was and always will be. Some mountains appear on the scene to remind you that they exist. Spirituality comes to you without invitation. And you, as I have learned by now, let yourself go. Everything changes here. You have much more of that India that you imagined. I finished it with a city that having no attraction makes life its highest drawing card.

Each of these states give you a different feeling. Almost seem worlds apart. Goa bring kindness, Karanakata of gentleness, Kerala sympathy and Tamil Nadu spirituality. Any state wins the prize for best state of the South - something their inhabitants will certainly agree - but they all make sense together. Pieces of a puzzle that you love to complete.

Le moi errant: Fatigue

At some point you start to feel tired. Neither physical or mental. You don't know what it is and you start to worry. You look inside yourself looking for the answer. Gradually, this fatigue modify your trip. No longer do you have that initial enthusiasm. The streets are not so beautiful. The temple is just one more temple. You end up forgetting how special is what you are doing.

Mine, appeared at the end of the second month. Came softly and wrapped in other feelings. First it was the longing for home in the festive season. After the physical exhaustion of being on the go so long without comfort. Finally, I was left just with fatigue for no apparent reason.

I thought I had lost my ability to admire the world. From finding beauty in small details. I wondered if the change was for the best. It was a difficult time of travel. One a friend I met in Hampi - who stupidly forgot my name and I hope you are reading right this now - had warned me during a conversation that took a river crossing.

It was a scary phase, but then ... then I can not explain! I'm in town, admiring everything as in the beginning. The colors replenish with life, the details are more sensed and the smiles occupy people's faces. Everything changes without you realizing it. You only know that it happened, as you know that the fatigue was finally over...

Story of a photo: A Moment

I always that the photos of people from afar. I like to capture the moment without interfering. Many are amazing to me. This was no exception. I was walking in Salai Road - a street that leads us into the beach - an area unattractive. The street was of a browninsh indian asphalt. Some dark walls made up the rest of the scenario. And suddenly, two pieces of color filled my eyes. They were in a small and vital task - to get water. There was a simplicity of these beautiful women. The whole scenario changes. The dark elements now appear to be placed just to make them stand out.

Being across the street, and a good feet away, taking a picture was an adventure. You have a split second before a car, or a person, gets between you and the picture. The solution, as always, is to take many. But what you see is not still. Or they disappear, or repair in your act and become a model. When I took this picture, my eyes were in traffic, looking for the right moment to press the button. When I did, and looked at the screen, I couldn't believe it. My initial image was gone and another moment had been captured.

Other travelers III - Dotan Malach

The scenario is composed of beautiful landscape and extraordinary monuments. But the journey brings you the people. And in this case I have been fortunate and privileged to meet many extraordinary ones. A proof that this world is filled with good people. Dotan is another example. Israeli actor and musician, I met him in Munnar. And it is impossible not to be in love with his charm and humor.

More than me, I think Dotan describes himself best in his MySpace page: "Was born in a circus in Belgrade to a mother That Performed as a trapeze girl and the father Trained That the lions. was touring with Them all around the world 16.lives Until he was now in Tel Aviv, building his own musical circus, taking care of elephants in zoological gardens in jurusalem, performing everywhere, lives in green and beautiful van and taking his first album in October soon "

As for music, I think it is best you to hear it. I leave here a clip. And although not knowing what it says, the music gives you a good vibe that I enjoy so much. For me it was a privilege to have shared a day in his company and hope meet him again. Who knows if not a beer in Bairro Alto after a concert in Lisbon.

A Map for Saturday

It was a gift from two friends. They saw this documentary and decided to share it. With a slow connection - and a town that insists on having power cuts - the download was a “radical” task. It was in a cibercafe that had no generator but with a connection fast enough to download it.

I arrived in Chennai and was slightly euphoric. Just recovered the energy that I lacked in recent times. They thought of me while seeing this movie and I was curious to know why. Download done, dinner taken and in a small, but clean, hotel room. And when the movie started, I just lacked the popcorn to feel in a movie theater.

And what a movie. The documentary is called A Map for Saturday. And it is about a person who has a steady job, that allows a good life with a nice apartment and decides to...

...yes, you guessed it... drop everything and take a trip around the world. A story that by now you are familiar with.

This documentary portrays perfectly what means to do it. I'm still in the first 20 minutes of mine, but it created an instant sympathy with the author. Something that also happens on the road. As soon as you meet a "fellow traveler", there is a link difficult to explain.

If you want to understand a little more what it is to go round the world, I suggest you watch this movie. And who knows, you are also prompt into a trip like this. Strangely, this objective we also share. I would like, with my words and pictures, not only take you with me as to contaminate you with the urge to go and see this beautiful world. Believe me, it's not that difficult and is something that you will keep for the rest of your lives.

A Friendly City

Chennai stands on its own. Not being a highlitght I had no expectations. The best way to find a city. The Indian pace of this place immediately captured my attention. It was love at first sight, without quite knowing why. I looked around and there was nothing attractive. A lot of garbage and the smell that follows it. Degraded buildings, potholed streets, and a symphony of horns. But that was it. I fell in love with all this mix. Chennai was real. Not trying to be more than a city. I like it when it happens. When people live in their own place. For some unexplained reason, some cities are more real than others.

Maybe because it does not have any great attraction. But it is still beautiful. With sites that would fit in a beautiful postcard. The government museum complex is an example. Situated in a great avenue - indeed it passes over the old road - this is a beautiful redish place. The building is beautiful, and the surrounding area lets you relax a from the indian hustle-hustle. The exhibits are worth the money you pay. Nothing that makes you jaw drop, but you like the statues, the stories you learn, the bones, stuffed animals, postcards and paintings you see. If the museum is not enough, in a second you're on the beach. A quasi-contrast to the hustle and bustle of Chennai. You are in a city beach. But still you can have the tranquility that only the sea can give you.

Although they may be good for pictures and emotions, they aren't the biggest highlight of Chennai. That is walking around the city - something that I was trying to explain to rickshaw drivers while refusing their generous offers. In Triplicane – area of my hotel – I had the chance to choose from wide avenues, busy streets or narrow alleys. I decided the busy streets.

The buildings range from construction colonial, tamilian homes or modern buildings. But it is near the sidewalks that the movement attracts my attention. Little used to walk, it is used to drink a tea, place the goods, or sit to do their work. After these are the street stalls - with fruit, clothing, footwear, etc ... - To compete with the parking of numerous motorbikes and rickshaws. Only after we, the pedestrians appear. Fighting for space with the traffic flowing in the street. It is this confusion of details and stimuli, colors and habits, that makes me happy. More than a great monument, I appreciate the mother who picks his daughter or the multicolored woman who draws water from a fountain. Everything competes for your attention in a rhythm of a large Indian city.

This would be the biggest highlight, if I hadn't known the people. Ultimately, these are the ones that make the place. Transform it into something beautiful. On the first day they smiled at me. And continued to do so in the following days. Impossible to finish better than with a coffee with two people from this city. And amid smiles and conversation, shone a huge sympathy that I would call Chennainian.

A spiritual journey

This is an unlikely post. I was never given to spirituality. As in other things, on this journey I discovered a new dimension in me. Not that I embraced a religion. But my experience has changed me so much that brought something that I do not know how to use another word besides spirituality. Tamil Nadu was where it took place. A delightful coincidence. I had chosen to visit this state because of its temples and spirituality is something that is all around you.

Madurai

It is the heart of the city. Dominates the landscape and gives it a magical touch. It has a healthy mix of calm and agitation. Despite the Indian hustle-hustle you don't feel overwhelmed. When you reach the center, two different worlds co-exist. On one hand, the confusion of trade and power lines. On the other, the calm of the temple. The street that separates these two sides, is strangely clean. The temple is beautiful. The towers - gateway to the complex - follow the cardinal points and are richly decorated. You have to choose between losing yourself among this beauty or wonder in the movement of people.

But Madurai was also the place where I tamed my mind. After awhile, I decided it was time to get organized and start to write more methodically. It was hard. I had plenty to distract me. Outside a city that moved and called for me. Inside the comfort of a good hotel. The fight was brutal, but aeverytime I looked at the temple complex while having a great meal I was sure I was on the right track.

Trichy

The journey continued in another city. By this time, my body was already accustomed to the vicissitudes of Indian buses. Neither the confusion of the bus stations impressed me. However, Trichy gave me much more than I was accustomed. For the first time I felt the Indian smell. I had some clues before but nothing too intense. The result of a terrible combination of water, heat and trash. But this is something you have to prepare your body if you want to take advantage of what India has to offer. India has never been easy. But always interesting. It is a place that combines antagonistic realities and let the choice be yours. Mine was overcome these obstacles.

In good time I did. Trichy has beautiful places to behold. The area of the fort is a shopping area par excellence. Lose yourself smoothly and you always find something that steals a smile. In my case, and after having tried unsuccessfully to reach the top of the fort, just by entering a Hindu temple. Inside almost no light light and a few people meditating. I entered a new world. Until the moment when I was "discovered" by one of the elements of the temple. He accompanied me with his sympathy to the exit door. The moment was made and I decided to go to the temple that marks this city.

I crossed the river am before the first of the towers of the temple entrance. They seem portals to other worlds. At first, the street below filled with merchants and beggars. While walking the confusion is left behind and the devotion starts. Turns out to be a good temple to be. I like to watch the people with different costumes and colorful saris, giving a unique life in this space. After much hesitation, I finally decided not to enter the center of the complex. I have noticed that most sites are sacred spaces for worship and I'm not devout. It could kill my curiosity, but it would be just that. I'd rather replace it with respect for those who use that space for the purpose it is intended.

Thiruvannamalai

I arrived at the festival days. It was full moon, and by this time thousands of faithful flock to this city. The worship is Shiva in the form of fire. And the flames spread to the city's altars and in front of the four entrances of the temple. It amazes me the amount of people who are here. I never thought a small town could contain so many devotees. Around the temple, a queue that would leave the one in Vatican museum to shame. In the face of the people the image of a long wait.

I walk by outside the temple, in one of the side the people, on the other a row of street shops. Much of this is food to satisfy the faithful. In each fire, a group of people to join their prayers, folding his hands over their heads.

It is night, and while I go down the street to return to the hotel, I repair in the “star” of the night. After many attempts it is the first time I can capture the full moon. I say first, because I had never capture it so large and clear. A woman was curious about what I was doing makes some conversatoin. Introduces me to his daughter, who speaks to me in perfect English and devastating smile - as only children have (and Indian in particular).

I ended up joining the queue around the city. An unstoppable chain of people. I did not know the way. I did not need it to know. Here and there the cows were played and appreciated. I'm not sure whether to bless or be blessed. I assume a little of both. Their milk was given to the pilgrims at the door of another temple, so they could make a blessing.

I am overcome by fatigue and return home. A good night sleep and the next day I went up the mountain that is the center of this city. An ancient volcano, where Shiva appeared and gave rise to this cult and temple. The path is steep, and under this sun, hard. I do it at my own pace until you find a place to sit. I have the shadow of the bramble to keep me company and stop a few seconds to contemplate the landscape. At the center the temple with its perfect geometry. All around the chaos of the Indian city, with its Picassian cubic houses and small streets. I let my self go in contemplation. I notice a smile, different from what I was used to, forming inside of me. A quiet smile that came from my spirit.

Tamil Nadu, was an experience. I meet here the diversity and unity of India. The smells that repel us and others that attract us. The temples so alike and different. It is a impossible and real combination. A combination that was slowly coming into me when I came to India, and that materialized in Tamil Nadu. In a journey that, most of all, was spiritual.

Le moi errant: Fear

We are a society of fear. I just realized it while traveling. It is nurtured and educated everywhere. Fear of everything. Conditions the subconscious. Molds the behavior. Decides for us and gives us the illusion that the choice is ours. A deep and nameless fear. We do not know what we are afraid of, we just are.

I'm no different. Fear was the most common thing so far. it started on the plane to Istanbul. When I heard we were arriving, I had a panic attack. One of those that makes you faint. All the fears came together at that time. Fear of committing to an error, of the unknown and of being alone. The fear of not being able to travel. And then came others. The fear of not be able to travel, not having a hotel or to catch a great time and have no one to share it with. Even the most ridiculous of all, the fear of what others will think of you, even when you have no “others” around you.

And when you get to this point, you realize how rooted they are in you. How your decisions should not be based on it but in other things. The trip is a conquest of fear. It starts at home when you decide to go for a trip around the world. But then, everything is very easy and romantic. Life is not (or, as I believe in it is not only). Here you are forced to face it. You have no escape, and you know that step you take ultimately will define you. You decided to embrace the unforeseen or choose security. Leading your way or follow others.

And you will gradually leave you fear behind. You have no reason to have it. You do not find exotic and incomprehensible places. You discover that your world is far greater than imagined. The trip is like knowledge. The only thing increased is ignorance. And on the trip, when you let go of the fear, you discover that the more you walk, more world you have to do so.