Moving on

I was invited to join in the first birthday celebrations of the youngest son of one of my NGO colleagues. This was the second time that I had been to the Jagannath Temple in Koraput for a birthday party and the kids seem to find it a great place to race around chasing each other in the safety of the temple compound. The culture requires that you remove your shoes to enter temples here which I dutifully did. The trouble was, in the heat of the midday sun, the marble steps were foot-blisteringly hot so I had to race up the long flight of steep steps extra quick to try to keep my feet on the ground for the minimum possible time but the soles of my feet were still sore from the hot stone. It was a relief to get into the shade and cool of the stone floors sheltered and the burnt skin is still peeling off my feet a week later.

After much soul-searching and discussion, I made the decision a couple of weeks ago to leave Koraput and travel on to different things. I've been working hard since I arrived last August and managed to complete some challenging pieces of work but I decided that it was the right time for me to move on. It was very odd saying goodbye to everyone and sad that I didn't see everyone I'd hoped for but as I hate saying goodbye anyway, I was glad that my departure was not too prolonged.

I spent a few days going through everything in my house, working out what to take with me, what to give to someone else or the next volunteer in the house and what to simply throw out. The ants and weevils decided for me in some cases and several items of foodstuff had to be discarded after serious infestation. I could not work out how ants had managed to invade a brand new box of cornflakes, still heat-sealed and seeming still to be airtight. It's not a pretty sight, pouring out breakfast at the start of the day and finding hundreds of ants swarming over it. The cows seemed to enjoy the flakes, ants and all.

My last couple of days in Koraput had the added entertainment of the Brahmin family who lived in the house opposite to mine celebrating the coming of age of the teenage son Hindu Initiation.  This is an important ritual for Brahmin boys, signifying a new stage in life but as with most ceremonies in India, it meant lots of noise with conch shells being blown loudly from very early in the morning until late at night (I think I heard the first one of the day at 5am), combined with music coming from horns, drums and loudspeakers.  There were many visitors to the house, probably the whole extended family, all dressed in their finest with the women in gloriously coloured and embroidered saris, some of the men wearing all white khurta and salwar and the boy wearing red with an elaborate head dress.  I was a little worried as the road was blocked by the festivities for several hours and my train was due in later in the afternoon but fortunately, it reached a conclusion shortly before my friends arrived with the vehicle to take me to the station.  My friend Sheila who had come from nearby and hotter Rayagada for a couple of days rest and recuperation and relative coolness hadn't bargained on the early morning horn alarms.  My departure was accompanied by shouted 'bye byes' from the colourfully dressed kids who had joined in the celebrations.

I was given a lift to the station in Koraput which was a relief, it's no fun trying to negotiate a reasonable price with the auto drivers when they see a white woman streaming with sweat, struggling under the weight of large heavy bags.  I was very touched to be given some parting gifts, including a bunch of pretty flowers which accompanied me on my travels on the overnight train to Bhubaneswar, sat in the water bottle holder before coming to spend a day and a night with me in a hotel while waiting for my next train.  But why does a hotel, advertising it's room rates as including a one-way journey to or from the station or airport then turn round and say that it's only a pick-up service, not drop off?  I had decided that I'd find my own transport from the station to the hotel then make use of the hotel service to take me back to the station for the morning train.  The irritating thing is that when I talked to the receptionist on arrival to check that they would arrange the morning journey without additional charge, I was told yes.  I've begun to think that yes may be the standard response when they don't really understand what you are saying and so just say yes, to try to keep you happy.  I really should have tried harder at my Oriya lessons.

However, I found a nice cycle-rickshaw wallah to take me from station to hotel at a very reasonable price and carried my heaviest bag on his head before struggling to cycle up the slope from the station with a heavy load.  In the morning, I staggered back to the main road carrying my bags in the morning to find an auto driver to take pity on me.  I seemed to cause much amusement with my heavy bags - big rucksack on my back, small rucksack on my front and small (heavy) case on wheels.  I had to help the driver lift the big rucksack into his auto before being driven to the station and getting on board the luxury of the air-conditioned Rajdhani Express on my way to Delhi, a mere 25 hours and more than 1800 kilometres away.  At least I have the privelage of sitting in air-conditioned luxury.  The only berths available for several days were 1AC, the first class air-conditioned coaches which are much more costly than the others but a very nice treat.  I should add that the extra cost of this luxury will not be borne by VSO but were paid for by my lovely husband who helped me out with booking tickets online when my internet connection wouldn't work.