Like a Tourist

I'm at Varkala beach.  Yesterday we took a bus to a train to a rickshaw to the beach.  I took an Indian train!  I can't take any credit, though.  The French kids did all the work of figuring it out and asking people what to do/where to go.  We sat in general class and when we got on, Indian passengers informed us that we could have booked a sleeper car and laughed when we explained that we preferred this experience.  It was like being in a jail cell (I think) with 70 people.  We sat on a 2nd tier wooden bench.  We had to sit cross-legged and my ankle bones hurt pressed against the wood and metal slats.  The ride was smooth.  And there were fans and a breeze.  Not bad.  A 2-hour ride.  We eventually made it to the resort area near the beach after haggling over a rickshaw.  Five of us in one rickshaw plus the driver.  The hostel in the French guide book was full so we split up to ask around at other resorts.  We finally found one for 1000 rupees for two rooms.  We then got busy to swim.  The waves were incredible.  Huge.  It was so much fun.  We then got dressed and did some shopping, then ate dinner.  And all-night happy hour ensued.  It was fun.  I got to Skype Jay from the table for a bit.  That was nice.  Next to the beach on the other side of the planet and my boyfriend gets to catch a glimpse of it.  Oh, technology.  We then went to Rock N Roll cafe which was playing the most depressing music but Chloe hooked up her iPod and the place turned into a dance floor.  At dinner Celine and I talked a bit about how strange and magical it is to be here in India and with each other.  She summarized, "It's going to be a good year."

I awoke to the sunrise this morning and decided to go out for a chai and then visited with Ramu, a shopkeeper who helped us find our hotel.  He has been selling since he was 11.  We swapped mini versions of life stories.  And of course then I visited his shop and dropped 800 rupees.  And now here I am at a cafe enjoying the sound of the pounding waves and cawing crows.  While my breakfast was being prepared, I could hear someone in back vomiting.  Oh, that Indian contrast.  It's always there.  That tomato and onion omelette sure was tasty.  I got to Skype with Jay again until my phone died.  Crazy technology.  So far I think that we're doing pretty well with all this.

Just an update to my last entry:  In total, I probably waited for about 1.5 hours at the police station.  Manoj said that the superintendent was out and I'd have to come back but after I completed my forms (4 copies of the same form), he told me to "come" and suddenly I was before the superintendent.  Manoj and another woman hurriedly and nervously presented him with papers that he signed and tossed aside and I worried that I was dressed and behaving too informally.  He asked me some questions about my time here and was very friendly with me.  And then I was on my way.  I then went shopping across the street for some school clothes and a formal outfit for my presentations.  I had a personal shopping attendant.  She took me from floor to floor via elevator.  It was all very fancy.  I have to get some of the items tailored now but I don't know where to go or how to get there.  Then I took an auto rickshaw to the bus station.  There I bought some fruit, flip flops (the finest in India, I'm told, for $3) and snacks and then stood amongst the crowd, not knowing what bus to get on.  I wasn't asking anyone either.  I just needed a little break.  But a kind woman approached me and asked where I wanted to go.  She then showed me my bus and I hopped on.  I must have looked spaced out.  Haha.  So kind of her.  Another productive day in India.  The housemates all had dinner together then.  When Chloe and Celine told Marsha of my experience at the police station, she was shocked and pointed out that if you're American, it takes 1.5 hours, if you're French, it takes four hours, and if you're Ugandan, it takes four days.  Ah, probably true.