Changing Coastlines
Just when I decide that I can’t choke down another gulp of chunky air scented of urine, I find myself looking at the sea with a fresh breeze. Just when I think that I won’t survive yet another close call on the hellways of Chennai, I find myself walking down the middle of a road without a single vehicle bearing down on me. And just when I begin to get irritated at having people constantly at my heels, hands outstretched (literally or figuratively), I see true glimpses of sincerity and unselfishness that makes me shake a finger at my distrust. How is this possible?!? It’s India.
Volunteer time is over, left this am after a brief 2 hour “nap.” As 3 of us were leaving, we took time last night for pre-separation bonding: dinner, mango ice cream, and final chats about nothing, bug dramas, and the personalities who staff our 1 1/2 star Kanchi Residency (i.e., “2nd floor guy,” “grinning boy,” and “the man who sleeps in the lobby”).
Now I’m in Cochin, another India altogether. I just left Kashi Art Cafe, a little garden nook littered with white faces and stocked with amazing chocolate cake and iced coffee—a PERFECT post-Chennai lunch without a trace of anything yellow, red, or firey. Maybe my taste buds will regenerate…. : ) Excited to watch the giant “Chinese fishing nets” dip down with the sun and go listen to a Veena concert (the monstrous instrument that I’d have to buy a seat on the plane to take home with me).
“Different fields, different grasshoppers; different seas, different fish”
Indonesian Proverb
Tags: Cochin, India
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