Everyone waits along the highway in the heat, and then they wave down the speeding vehicles they want. The buses slow, but never stop. It is our job to fling ourselves on board. It is a weekend, and many of the buses are quite full, so we wait a good twenty minutes or so before we literally run and jump to catch our bumpy ride to Pondicherry.
I have walked the streets of Portugal, Spain, England, Paris, and the Federal District of Mexico by myself several times in both the bright of the day and the wee hours of the morning, and I have never before experienced this sort of dark surprise. During my first solitary evening stroll in India, I am molested. If I am not safe in a small quiet tourist dependent town, I wonder if I can be safe as a woman alone anywhere in this country.
We splurge a bit on a hotel, $20. The prices in India, even when you are being ripped off, are some of the best. The hotel room is worth the extra $10. Oh the soothing simple wonders of hot water, television, and a western toilet. I am already feeling much better. Now that holidays are over, TG has suddenly become very popular in the climate change research non-profit world. The meetings are regular, and two jobs have already been secured. One job is for TERI and the other is for GIZ . The TERI project takes place in West Bengal. The GIZ project requires TG to jump up and down the coast of Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. Either way, our time in Mamallapuram is rapidly coming to an end. It is a bittersweet transition. I search for a place to purchase pepper spray.
The terribly catchy song we hear playing everywhere in India. "Why this Kolaveri Di? "
Translation: Why this urge to murder/hurt? It is a love song.
Pondicherry, also known as Pudicherry, is considered the French region of India. It had once belonged to France, before the British occupation, and now, after Indian Independence, is a tourist hot spot. The region stretches along the coast of the Bay of Bengal, and the city is quite a bit larger than my out of date lonely planet guidebook lead me to believe. There is a noticeably French influence, especially in the tourist district near their famous boardwalk, but it is all together Indian in feel and flavor. We have come to Pondicherry for a night in an effort to momentarily escape and distract from my anxiety.
I have walked the streets of Portugal, Spain, England, Paris, and the Federal District of Mexico by myself several times in both the bright of the day and the wee hours of the morning, and I have never before experienced this sort of dark surprise. During my first solitary evening stroll in India, I am molested. If I am not safe in a small quiet tourist dependent town, I wonder if I can be safe as a woman alone anywhere in this country.
We splurge a bit on a hotel, $20. The prices in India, even when you are being ripped off, are some of the best. The hotel room is worth the extra $10. Oh the soothing simple wonders of hot water, television, and a western toilet. I am already feeling much better. Now that holidays are over, TG has suddenly become very popular in the climate change research non-profit world. The meetings are regular, and two jobs have already been secured. One job is for TERI and the other is for GIZ . The TERI project takes place in West Bengal. The GIZ project requires TG to jump up and down the coast of Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. Either way, our time in Mamallapuram is rapidly coming to an end. It is a bittersweet transition. I search for a place to purchase pepper spray.
Translation: Why this urge to murder/hurt? It is a love song.
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