We stand atop the rock reliefs of ancient times, and survey the gleaming backwaters, the blank reaching coast, and the bright painted fishing boats, that make up this small coastal town. The people here have prospered off of these simple riches. As the monkeys beckon us to stay, TG and I look to each other and agree; this is paradise.
This is the sleepy beauty of Mamallapuram, and both of us are terribly infatuated. We long to make this affair last, so we rent the unused second floor of a home from a local family. We have a sunny roof, a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, living space, furniture, a washing machine, and all utilities for $200 month. The only thing we don't have is a fridge, so we market daily, and cook anything perishable the same day.
The electricity in the entire town goes out exactly from noon to two every day, during which few restaurants serve food, and we are forced to unplug from our computers. The businesses rarely have what they advertise. We are learning to manage our expectations. The local men stare a little too long when I wear my two-piece bathing suit to the beach. The only people who know how to swim are the fishermen. The rest of the locals just wade, and I have yet to see a single Mamallapuram woman with more than her feet in the water. All the prices are inflated, due to us being foreigners, but these small inconveniences are completely worth the quiet beach, and the dusty charms of this little Indian town.
The woman all wear saris here, and the men wear Lungis, a piece of cloth wrapped around the waist. It falls at the ankle or at the knee, depending on one's taste and the heat of the day. Most live off the yearly supply of tourists and the bountiful sea. The fishing boats go out everyday, and return in the afternoon. The older generation speaks predominantly Tamil, one of the main dialects of the state. The younger generation seem to have some knowledge of English, and can usually speak some Hindi. Everything is closed by 11pm, and the town falls silent. It is a welcome silence, filled only with the constant whispering of the beach.
TG spends his day researching, tracking down leads, and saving goats. I spend my days writing, swimming, and learning to cook the local dishes. Life is simple here. It will be hard to leave it behind, but in the mean time, we can sit back, and enjoy the little things. I had forgotten what simple was like.
TG saving a goat!
This is the sleepy beauty of Mamallapuram, and both of us are terribly infatuated. We long to make this affair last, so we rent the unused second floor of a home from a local family. We have a sunny roof, a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, living space, furniture, a washing machine, and all utilities for $200 month. The only thing we don't have is a fridge, so we market daily, and cook anything perishable the same day.
The electricity in the entire town goes out exactly from noon to two every day, during which few restaurants serve food, and we are forced to unplug from our computers. The businesses rarely have what they advertise. We are learning to manage our expectations. The local men stare a little too long when I wear my two-piece bathing suit to the beach. The only people who know how to swim are the fishermen. The rest of the locals just wade, and I have yet to see a single Mamallapuram woman with more than her feet in the water. All the prices are inflated, due to us being foreigners, but these small inconveniences are completely worth the quiet beach, and the dusty charms of this little Indian town.
The woman all wear saris here, and the men wear Lungis, a piece of cloth wrapped around the waist. It falls at the ankle or at the knee, depending on one's taste and the heat of the day. Most live off the yearly supply of tourists and the bountiful sea. The fishing boats go out everyday, and return in the afternoon. The older generation speaks predominantly Tamil, one of the main dialects of the state. The younger generation seem to have some knowledge of English, and can usually speak some Hindi. Everything is closed by 11pm, and the town falls silent. It is a welcome silence, filled only with the constant whispering of the beach.
TG spends his day researching, tracking down leads, and saving goats. I spend my days writing, swimming, and learning to cook the local dishes. Life is simple here. It will be hard to leave it behind, but in the mean time, we can sit back, and enjoy the little things. I had forgotten what simple was like.
No comments:
Post a Comment