Mysore

It’s been about a week that I’ve been living here in Mysore, India and I have to say it’s been a whirlwind of a time.  It all started with my travel experience, which took about 30 hours, including driving to and from the airport.  That’s a lot of travel time!  I flew from Newark to Paris and then Paris to Bangalore.  I’ve flown into Charles de Gaulle Airport before, when I went to study abroad in Greece, but I don’t remember it being so upscale!  I could have spent a lot of time (and money) at the stores.  Very clean and organized.   This I appreciate this for sure.

When I arrived in Bangalore I must say, I was petrified.  About two weeks before I was to leave for India, I got cold feet.  I called the airline to see if I could cancel my trip, I wasn’t ready to go.  Of course I bought a non-refundable ticket.  The motivation of losing money and Maziar’s gentle nudge helped me build up the nerve to pack my bags and head off.  I am so happy that I did.

The man sitting next to me on the plane to Bangalore was from Salt Lake City.  Born in India, he decided to move back with his wife and child to live in Bangalore, surrounded by family, for 9 months.  This culture values family.  As do I.  It’s always been a source of comfort and enjoyment for me.  Love you family!  Miss you!!  When I told him it was my first time coming to India, he turn to me, with big eyes and said…WOW!!!  I didn’t know how to interpert his reaction.  He gave me some words of advice: 1) don’t trust anyone! 2) wash your hands often 3) bring toilet paper with you wherever you go 4) be strong! be hard headed 5) always negotiate the price, in other words, if you understand farsi, chooneh.  30% he said you should be paying for goods off the street.  Very nice man.  I will always remember him.

When I got outside of the airport, it was about 1 am.  Filled with smiling faces, people were shouting and hustling.  I felt oddly at home and comfortable.  I laughed to myself because I it all reminded me a lot of SUNNYVALE!  I saw my name written on an 8x10 piece of paper and ran over to a very nice gentle man who took my bags and walked very fast to the parking lot.  The cars here are like toys, yet they fit it to the point where people are hanging out the window.  One car had rainbow headlights that flashed different colors.  I don’t know if that is illegal or not, but it looked pretty cool and got my attention. 

I took a 5 hour taxi ride to Gokulum, Mysore, the neighborhood and city I will be living in for the next 2 months.  The taxi driver was very kind, didn’t speak a lot of English, but had great music.  When he turned it off (because he thought I would want to sleep) I asked him to turn it on.  What did he put on for me?  Michael Jackson, Shaggy, I listened to the Dancing Queen, he had it all.  After the initial high of being in India, I put my head down on my bag and passed out.

I arrived at Anoki’s Garden where I stayed for the next week.  It is a small café that is open to the public Thursday through Saturday and houses 5 people.  I was one of those people.  I am forever grateful that I stayed there for that week and met some fabulous people.  Marie, the owner, is like a mother, and knows everything about the area.  If I wanted passport pictures, she knows exactly where to go.  If I needed a rickshaw, she knows the perfect rickshaw driver.  For those of you who don’t know what a rickshaw is, I will explain in another post. 

Within the first few days upon arrival, I got pretty sick.  I don’t know what the cause was, but I will tell you, I felt like my head was going to explode, my throat was smoothed with sandpaper, and a very ugly fever.  I missed only 1 day of practice, slept for 20 hours, and felt all better.  One of my biggest fears coming to India was to get sick, especially since I’ve had issues with my health.  It was a breeze.  Not pleasant, but I was well taken care of and if I needed a doctor, there are plenty of good ones here.

I thought that I would not like India.  I had not expected to not only like it, but love it.  I seem to have this experience; when I think I am incompatible with a city, it ends up being the perfect place for me.  It happened for me with New York and Paris.  Just goes to show you, I don’t know what’s best for me.  So, I’m following my heart rather than my logical thinking.  I can always change my mind if it’s a mistake. 

Om Shanti

Neda