Sadhana Forest

Paradise
More than a month has passed already since my last blog post yet it feels to me more like two weeks. I arrived at Sadhana Forest all too ready for a break from travelling and with expectations of what I could achieve and learn while I was there. I leave now, happy, particularly at the prospect of new adventure, but a little disappointed in what little I managed to achieve.

There is no doubt that when you enter Sadhana's gate that you are entering somewhere special. You approach it via a bumpy dirt track that appears to go nowhere, but when you step into the compound it feels like entering a little paradise. Nearly everything looks alive or natural and pleasing to look at. The effect it had on me was to relax, do my required chores and laze about in the warmth - and be quite unproductive. It also didn't help that, like most people who come to Sadhana Forest, I developed a stomach bug. When I lived off a diet of oranges for a while I didn't mind the bug much because I was not running to the toilet and was just a little sleepy.

Between the banana and papaya plants is a village of thatched buildings, unequally designed to optimise ventilation, strength and durability. The structure of the buildings are made using improved local techniques from locally sourced timber and bamboo and tied together with coconut fibre string. The roof is made first with a layer of coconut leaves and then thatched with a thick layer of reads. Flooring is made from bamboo segments and reed matting. Attention is made to limit the environmental impact of the community by only allowing soap free from environmentally harmful additives and the night soil from the composting toilets is used to fertilise trees and non food plants.

Water is pumped from the ground, partly by hand and partly by electricity, which is produced by two small solar arrays that also power lighting, laptops and a projector. Backup electricity is produced with peddle generators.

What is Sadhana's agenda? What is it like?

Sadhana Forest advertises itself as a reforestation project and yet its name means spiritual path. To me it felt a little like nice eco holiday camp but for others it is a lot more. What it actually is I think is hard to define, because what it has evolved into seems not so much lead by the people who carry it but by the people who come to visit. It has been said by a visitor and is repeated many times that Sadhana not only grows trees but, perhaps more importantly, grows people. Many people come to Sadhana a little lost and I think many people leave, psychologically, a little stronger.

The amount of reforestation work being performed is actually quite small. Generally speaking, mid week between 0800 to 0930 is assigned to reforestation work and 1000 till 1130 is assigned to maintaining and running or expanding the community. After that people are free to do what they like. When I arrived there were 160 volunteers at Sadhana and only about 20 or 30 of them would come to the "forest" to take part in the conservation work. The others were either busy with more chores to do with the daily running of the community or were off sick or something.

The conservation work involved loosening compacted earth with a crowbar within a hole, shovelling the earth using a mumpty (large short handlef hoe) into plates and passing the earth down a chain of people to be stumped into walls of earth, or bunds, to prevent water running off the land. This will allow a top soil to re-develop and the water table to rise - both of which are important for the trees that are planted during the monsoon season. Of the people that come to the forest the efficiency of the potential work force was also poor. This was sometimes due to a shortage of tools or a lack leadership that would result in many people standing around - passing a plate of earth a few feet every 20 seconds. Because everyone of all abilities are placed together the weight of a plate of earth would be only a half or a third of the weight that could be easily carried by stronger members of the team.

During my stay at Sadhana the conservation work was dropped on Monday to make way for a period in the beginning and end of the week where the community would spend the time sitting in a circle in silence. Also introduced while I was there was 15 minutes of silence before the evening meal. This would be announced by banging a chime loudly many times and shouting out that the silence time was about to commence. It would be ignored by small children, dogs and anyone who didn't hear the announcement. Considering that only some people take part in the conservation work but most people (including people who would otherwise be performing chores) take part in the quiet periods, probably more man-hours are spent being quiet than performing conservation work. Clearly Sadhana is more about changing people or personal development than reforesting a small patch of land.

Spreading love and "good energy"

So in what way can people expect to change? People who come to Sadhana are not taught how to meditate or about what Auroville is trying to achieve. People are not told what to think. What people are asked is to abide by a number of requests, which include only eating vegan food within the community site and not bringing in any refined sugar, flour or anything synthetic. People are asked not to eat any stimulants, including all legal and illegal non medicinal drugs. This includes chilly, which I have not perceived to be a stimulant any more so than ginger or garlic. And finally, no competitive games are allowed. The vegan food is about being ethical and avoiding stimulants is, I think, to help the body become more susceptible to spiritual experiences. Competitive games such as card games and chess are banned because such games create a winner and loser and produce feelings opposite to compassion.

Midweek in the mornings people are asked to attend the "morning circle" at sun rise. This is a bit of a ritual where everyone holds hands and are asked to look around and observe the people around them and then also the surrounding environment. They are then asked to close their eyes and reflect on themselves and perhaps given a challenge: to be aware of one aspect of themselves that day or make an effort to get to someone you previously hadn't noticed. Everyone is then asked to breath deeply and hum three times before being invited to sing a song or play a game. The circle then ends by claping one's hands against each other's and giving your neighbour and anyone else a hug.

Some people, particularly those who are wary of religious cults, are uncomfortable taking part in this circle. It can also be awkward for those not used to hugging strangers. But give it a go for a while and the wariness eventually rubs off and it becomes pleasant, peaceful and innocent ritual. Such a simple ritual I believe has also a lot of power, so perhaps it is not so innocent as it feels. What it achieves is to bring everyone together that they feel a sense of belonging and part of the community. Achieving this can obviously be a challenge if you have 100 or more new faces coming and going within a month. It reminded me, strangely, of the team building techniques used by the military. Or perhaps not so strangely, considering that the man behind Sadhana has military training and also a masters and work experience in psychology. But in this case, rather than toughening people up and desensitising them from empathetic feelings, such as combat training can achieve, people who come to Sadhana Forest open up to spreading that "hippy love". People often talk about generating "good energy". I write about it a little mockingly and perhaps I should not. Apparently many people leave Sadhana forest with ambitions to be more conscious of the the impact they have on their environment. To work harder to do something positive for the world and be less selfish. This can only be a good thing I believe. So, if the progress of reforestation work at Sadhana is slow, this is not important if people leave and start their own environment-, animal- or human-sensitive (life-sensitive) projects elsewhere.

Other rituals include a another shorter circle before second work. A recent alteration to it is that people are called into the centre of the circle before they head off to their chores. This was probably introduced to discretely name and shame those who would turn up late or not at all for their second shifts. Then before each meal is a moment of silence before anyone can eat. The meals could also count as rituals because they are taken together and one meal per week is also in silence.

The moments silence before eating each meal is a nice idea, particularly if there are fewer than 40 or so people, but waiting for 160 people to be seated and served could take 30 minutes of sitting with a plate of food going cold in front of you that you have to defend from flies. This period, before the everyone eats, is also used for announcements, of which there are many. With so many new people each week many announcements are repeated every other day, such as, to remember to clear up after yourself if you make a mess in the kitchen. Thus, it shows that the the rate at which Sadhana has grown recently has been faster than solutions could be made to keep the place peaceful and positive without threatening to overshadow the good vibes it generates with bad ones from frustrated people. So far Sadhana has never turned away people because it already has too many people (however, during the busy months the shortest period you can stay is one month), but I doubt Sadhana can grow any more without segregating people into eating slots and introducing more security measures.

Sickness and hygiene

I wonder if falling physically sick at Sadhana is also partly a consequence of the psychological journeys people make. I was more sick at Sadhana than before India, like many others. This could be simply a consequence of relaxing after times of constant travelling when falling sick is not an option. However, I also wonder if there is a problem with hygiene. I and others have put forward some suggestions that are already in the pipeline to be addressed so I expect if there is a hygiene issue that it will soon be found. Some aspects of hygiene is clearly over done, as if just to keep people happy. One example is the spraying of eating utensils with a similar strength vinegar solution to the final rinse.

Apart from the pointless spray, I really like the washing method. It consists of four pots of water with the fourth containing 10 or 20 per cent vinegar. In the first pot the dishes are scrubed with coconut husks and ash, which helps to remove grease. Dishes are then rinsed out in the remaining three pots in a consistent order. The advantage of such a system is obvious after more than 100 have washed up their dishes. Where the first pot is almost black with ash, the last pot containing vinegar is (if people have been rinsing correctly) quite clear and is not usually necessary to change even for the next meal. Thus, in terms of water use, dish washing is very efficient.

Because of the number of people on such a small site, hygiene is paramount to prevent illnesses from spreading like wild fire. For this reason the vinegar dip is probably a good precaution. For individuals I expect it would unnecessarily raise the acidity of the local soil and the carbon foot print of the vinegar is probably also not small.

Composting toilets

The toilets at Sadhana are an experience, and in my view not the most pleasant. They are dry composting toilets where solid waste goes in one hole and liquids go down another. This is a challenge for many people, particularly men who are used to independently urinating while squatting. Thus, a metal pan with a handle is required to catch the number one during the number two procedure. This, if one is not careful, can result in accidental splashing or touching of the inside of the pan. The urine is then either put in a tank so that it can be diluted and used as fertiliser, or can be put in hole number one, which is a squatting toilet, also known as the "bum wash station". Here the liquid waste enters a storage tank where it eventually finds it way out through a reed bed, after which all nutrients should be extracted and safe to enter a stream. The solid waste is covered with saw dust, which provides the optimum moisture conditions for composting. The toilet requires stirring occasionally and allowing to partially decompose before it is emptied onto a large pile for two years before it is safe to use in the garden.

The simple design of the toilets are probably well suited for such a large number of people when construction costs are limited, but I think such toilets have little chance of becoming popular due to the mentioned reasons and the following:

1) The toilets are not exactly scent free. Due the hot environment and heat generated during decomposition, when the lid to the solid waste toilet is lifted one is greeted by a puff of warm smelly steam. [Excuse me, I hope you were not just eating!] The smell is not terrible and reminds me of playing in a sandpit as a child that was also used by a cats. More importantly, I am interested to know if it is theoretically possible to catch an infection through inhaling the steam after someone who has previously visited the toilet that was sick. If so, taking a breath before opening the lid and then breathing through your T-shirt limits your exposure. However, I think a simple chimney, as is used in domestic composting toilets, would provide sufficient draft to remove all smells.

2) The quantity of saw dust used by the system meant that it could not sustainably be used on a large scale. Something like 200-300 g of saw dust is required after each number 2 visit. Although the saw dust was a byproduct from a local saw mill, if everyone required that much saw dust when ever they went to the toilet we would have to chop down trees to make it. Compared to toilet paper, which is blamed for cutting down forests, I think a couple of sheets require only a few grams of wood. Paper requires fresh water to produce, which is an increasingly valuable resource, but just growing trees also requires a lot of water as well as land. I hope to find some numbers for these when I have time on the internet. I would be interested to find out how easily the sawdust could be replaced with shredded biomass collected from Sadhana Forest.

I understand that there now exist commercially manufactured composting toilets that monitor the temperature and humidity electronically and stir and ventilate the material to optimise the decomposition times with minimal use of electricity. I have yet to see and use one, but such toilets I have read do not smell, look clean, are easy to use and the only additives is a small quantity of powder containing bacteria. Perhaps a DIY kit exists that would enable a demonstration toilet to be built at Sadhana that is more inspiring to visitors that they might consider having their own installed at home.

Projects and community living

Before I arrived at Sadhana Forest I already had plans to use my free time to explore what sustainable technologies were being developed in Auroville, as well as trying to keep up my hobby in sculpting. For the first two weeks I couldn't motivate myself to do much. I was constantly feeling sleepy, which could be attributed to many things, including not being used to the 6 am starts, no longer drinking 8 chai's a day to keep myself alert on the India roads, the heat which felt greater without the breeze from riding a motorbike and my stomach problem that came and went and came again, which I partly blamed on not being used to the diet of predominantly rice and lentils. Sometimes I fantasised that Sadhana Forest was about using people to milk them of some special energy with which they use to operate their mysterious space craft - the Matrimandir. Once they have accumulated sufficient energy I imagined that they would control the ship with their minds in the central meditation hall and take off to return to their galaxy from which they came.

Then there was also the aspect of not being used to community dwelling with a lot of free time on my hands. Having been travelling by myself for the last month, meeting few people who could speak English well enough to hold a conversation with them, and previously working alone on my volunteer projects, being plunged into the deep end where you are expected to be sociable and spread your love was a little disorientating. I found myself happier going into my own little familiar world with my Eee PC and the internet and escaping with my motorbike when I felt like some space to breath.

As my energy returned and became a little more sociable and adventurous and I ventured as far as the Centre for Sustainable Research (CSR). It was interesting to look around their energy department and observe what projects they were working on. The two main are currently a solar cooker and a solar powered compressed air electric generator. It was also interesting to see how the Auroville solar kitchen worked but I was disappointed to learn that it could only provide a third of the energy requirements of the kitchen, the rest being provided by diesel. The use of sustainable technology was harder to find in Auroville than I expected and I didn't feel there was going to be much I could learn without first commiting myself to a project.

A project of my own that I soon started was to learn how to use the wood oven to make bread. The oven consisted of a brick and mud dome in which I fire had to be lit and then allowed to die down. I had three attempts. The first I used ordinary brown wheat flower (atta). The second two loaves where a mixture of atta and raggi flour, which is a local millet. The loaves were of mixed success as it was difficult to get the oven the correct temperature at the time it was needed, particularly when the temperature was not even known.



Finally, I did manage to do a little sculpting. As it happened I came across some clay in one of the holes we were digging in the forest. I retrieved some of this, soaked it in water, filtered it through a sieve to remove the stones and through layers of mosquito netting to remove the grit. It was thus satisfying to be working with locally dug clay, which had a nice smooth but a little sticky feel. Finding someone with a face I wanted to sculpt was not so simple as people tend to like to go out in the afternoon, so I made do with my imagination and just asked for two different people to sit for me that I could copy their neck and ears. It was actually interesting to see what I could do from memory and compare that to what I came up with the first time I tried sculpting a head out of clay 14 years ago. Although there is still much room for improvement, I don't think it looks less realistic than sculptures I have made by copying a model.

Without testing the clay I do not know if it would be possible to fire or at what temperature and I did not have enough time to attempt making a cast. Thus, the sculpture will probably not last long before it is chipped or completely broken. But seeing so many different faces from all over the world at Sadhana Forest does give me the inspiration for when I return to attempt an array of busts that I could fire and leave in the garden - if I find time.

Plans

Currently my plans are explore North Thailand and Loas while I wait for two months to pass before I can apply for a new Indian visa. I just guzzled lots of fuel by flying from Kolkata to Bangkok and am now sitting in Jame's house whom I went to school with. After my exclusion period from India has expired I shall return to continue my motorbike adventures. Thus, how much volunteering I'll feel like squeezing in before I return to the UK - I'll have to see. I expect funds will dwindle more quickly in East Asia. Even India is becoming more expensive by the day while the value of the rupee increases and Indian tourist's spending power over shadows foreign tourists.

Ooty to Pondicherry and many adventures in between

So, I have finally arrived in Pondicherry, without losing any parts of me on the road. I have had many more adventures along the way but have been too tired to write about them in the evenings. I shall try and catch up a little now before it is too old to be news.

Ooty to Coimbatore

The ride from Ooty to Coimbatore was great. I meant to plot my route out on a google maps to highlight all the roads that I took that were not on the map, but now I don't have time. I tried to take the most direct yet most "off-piste" route I could find and was actually heading to Palakkad but never made it. The mountain roads were tiny and the only traffic for most of the way was the occasional motorbike. The scenery was stunning, particularly when I headed off the map into what appeared to be national park and I had the impression I was going places I was not supposed to be. I conveniently picked up a hitch-hiker just before I passed through a check point and they probably didn't stop me because they thought my passenger was my guide. My passenger warned me that there were elephants about. Although the roads in the park were very good, the last 200 meters leading onto a main road was just a dirt track that passed through a badly maintained fiord. I had the impression that the badly maintained section served to protect the tribal communities within park from tourism or something. The route that I took was actually a great short cut and could shorten someone's journey from a couple of hours to just half an hour. I had asked in Ooty if there was a pass through the mountains there but no one seemed to know about it and only found it by studying my google satellite images.

I next attempted a short cut through some mountains that I had not identified on my maps but it unfortunately fizzled out to a track after 20 km, just 10 km from Palakkad. A local told me I could go no further and because it was getting dark in a couple of hours I thought I'd take his advice. He offered me a place to stay for free and at first I accepted but then I realised that he had been drinking and didn't feel I could trust him. When I drew out of him that he would be expecting a Rs. 500 donation I told him that was not acceptable to make such demands after being told I was a guest, so took my opportunity to escape before it got too dark to leave.

Integrated Rural Technology Centre (IRTC)

I learned about this NGO in Mysore from another guest at the youth hostel I was staying at. I found them very welcoming and they even offered me a room for the night and I ended staying for two. The place has a positive feel about it, which has much to do with that many people, young and older, live on campus so that care is taken to provide a pleasant atmosphere with seating, plenty of vegetation for shade and the buildings are artistically designed. As the name suggests, the institute focuses on improving rural lives with the application of science, in similar way to ARTI, which I visited in Phaltan. Its campus is extensive, with departments for every discipline. They also believe in organic agriculture, although I had the impression that bringing money into the countryside took presidency over issues of sustainability and the environment. An example of this is their animal breeding department. I felt that their rabbits and pigs were kept in too cramped and dull conditions and reflected too closely practices of intensive meat production, which I consider unsustainable and unethical. Questions of sustainability arise from the inefficient use of land and energy if the animals are fed on crops grown on land that otherwise could be used to directly produce food. There is also an increased risk of creating new diseases due to cramped breeding conditions. I feel such practises are mainly unethical due to the level of boredom experienced by the animals being deprived of their natural activities.

One area of research they are undertaking that interested me is in the use of bacteria to help in the uptake in phosphates and minerals by plants. Enabling plants to be grown in lower nutrient conditions sounds like a good thing, however, it does not get around the problem that if you remove nutrients from a farm that you have to bring them back again. Perhaps the research will help in understanding how organic composts can be improved. Other areas they work on is teaching local people how to make soap, how to grow a popular variety of mushroom and how to improve the value of locally produced pots with colourful glazes. They also take part in a government watershed project, that is, to create a database of the available water and its current use so that the government can make recommendations about what crops are better to grow in which regions so that water is shared more fairly to improve productivity.

Further South

From IRTC I travelled through Eravikulam National Park in which I was told I wouldn't meet any more elephants. However, only after about 5 km into the park I spotted movement in the bushes and quickly stopped when I realised it was another herd of elephants lurking by the road side. I waited at a safe distance on a bridge for 10 minutes for them to go. I imagined they were waiting to ambush me, but after a short trumpet they disappeared into the jungle and I slowly and, as silently as my motor allowed, slinked passed.

The ride up to Munnar was again stunning. Partly, in fact, due to the tea plantations that created many views and an interesting patterns. At a tea factory museum I met my first lone motorbike traveler and we decided to travel the next day together. He was an experienced motorbiker from the UK and was riding an Royal Enfield Bullet. The next day was also a stunning ride to Thekkady, which is the most South I reached. It was nice to ride with someone else for a change, but his speed, mostly because he had better acceleration than me, was somewhat faster than I liked and I also felt a bit restricted, being slower, in stopping too frequently to take photos. Thus, although it was nice to have some company for a change I was quite happy to go separate ways and headed off down the mountains to the exciting sounding place of Cumbum. It was not actually a pleasant place and I couldn't even find any budget accommodation. To make things harder, all the places that said "hotel" were in fact just restaurants - unless they were keeping a different side of their business secrete. I eventually found a place to rest for Rs. 120 out of town on Cumbum Road.

An unexpected break

The next day I tried to make some progress and hurried North-East towards Pondicherry but after an hour or two I was tempted to go exploring by mountains I was passing. I followed a small road into the foothills, pretty sure that it would be a dead end yet amazed at the quality of the road, including road signs warning one of sharp bends despite that there didn't seem to be any traffic. Low and behold the road suddenly ended in a small path which I didn't feel like following any further considering I was running on my reserve tank.

On my way back to the main road I was, unusually, hailed by a woman in a field. She seemed very keen to talk to me so I guessed she probably spoke English and I obliged and stopped. She spoke English well and asked the usual questions as to where I was going and where I was from. She then offered me a coconut to drink which she knocked from one of her trees and invited me back to her house. I agreed and also agreed to wait for her to cook some lunch. She didn't want any payment and just seemed keen to practise her English and for the company. I learned that she was 58, was a widow having been divorced because (I think) she could not have any children. She had been an English teacher in a college when she was younger and had plenty of money at the time and even built a house. But for whatever reason she seemed to have lost most her money and the rest was tied up in the house she had given to her brother. She had returned to a farming life, partly to save money, partly to experience the simple life she had known as a child and partly as financial security because she had no children. She had just planted some coconut trees, which, within five years will provide her with a steady income. All she has to do is turn on a switch to irrigate the trees and employ a local lad to pick them. She also had two cows and a calf, a number of chickens and a cat. Both of the cows look like Jerseys (but are probably not) and are producing milk, which provides a daily income. They are milked twice a day by a milk boy that visits on a moped on which he carries two milk urns, a milking bucket, a measuring jug and a sieve.

Time passed as I walked with her to move her cows to a new grazing area and she told me the uses of different plants on the way and eventually I had to make up my mind if I should leave. She invited me to stay a night in her one room house and I decided to take up her offer with the promise of more tasty food. It was a lazy pleasant evening with intrigued neighbours dropping by to visit. The night was a little uncomfortable sleeping on a wooden board but I slept well and didn't notice when the women lay down to sleep her on usual mat on the floor, or when she got up. In the morning I learned that not all neighbours were so friendly, with the neighbour opposite apparently accusing us of stealing another neighbour's coconuts and for having an affair. She told me she was often having arguments with the neighbour, because, she claimed, that he was jealous and particularly now that I was visiting her. He thought, as did other neighbours, that I would be sending lots of money to her when I got home. It is a pity, but I guess it is expected. She was upset by the neighbour and that I was leaving after a brief moment of pretending that I was her son. Since she did not accept any payment I guess I am obliged now to send something.

River crossing

My next adventure was when I tried to follow a minor road that was clearly marked on the map but turned out to be missing a bridge. Perhaps the old one was washed away because they were building a new one at a different location to that marked on the map. I managed to find a local that could talk English to ask if there was another a bridge that I could cross. There was not, without extending my journey by three hours or going back and neither options sounded appealing because I did not know if I had sufficient petrol. However I was told that the river was only shin deep and that some people did manage to take their motorbikes across. I decided to have a look to see if it was as deep as they said. I was instructed how to make the crossing - that was to run next to my bike with the engine running. I tried this at a walking pace across some shallower water to a sand bank a short way across, but found the water in fact in the centre of the river was knee deep. I was about to turn back when a local confidently said that he could take my bike across. I decided to risk it and swapped my bike for his bag of rice. He did an impressing job, splashing through the water with my bike's engine racing and the water coming well over the exhaust and up the engine. If he had made a mistake and stalled the engine I don't think it would have been possible to start again and I don't know what would have happened to it and my bag. It was a big crossing as you can see from the picture. Unfortunately I don't have a picture of the heroic moment because I didn't dare drop his bag of rice to remove my camera.

The rest of my journey was quite uneventful and I arrived in Pondichery on Wed 17 February and arrived at Sadhana Forest, Auroville, the following morning. It is really quite a special place. I no doubt will write a lot about it shortly.

Charged by an Elephant

6 February 2010

When I decided to take a main highway through some jungle at Bandipure National park, I did not realise I would be in more danger from the wildlife than from the Indian lorry and bus drivers. Having passed halfway through the jungle I only saw a few deer and a number of monkeys. Then, as I came around a corner I met a herd of elephants crossing the road. An Indian family were stopped a little back from them in a car and were taking photos. I turned my engine off and rolled up a bit back from the car and took out my camera and took a couple of photos. I don't know how close I was, but close enough as you probably can gauge from my photo taken with my camera that has very little zoom. All seemed quite safe because the elephants just minded their own business and continued into the forest, until, that is, the car in front decided it would continue. When the car passed behind the elephants it angered a young bull elephant and it ran back to see the car off. It was then that I realised I was very exposed, but my keys were not in my ignition - I had no quick escape!

I didn't waste any time and started pushing my bike around back the way I came while I desperately thought what I could have done with my keys. Without my engine I could not outrun the elephants. I saw that the elephant had seen me but he didn't look like he was angry enough to charge just yet. I was contemplating whether, if he did chase me, if I should ditch my bike and run to climb up a tree. Suddenly I remembered where my keys were: in the lock of my panniers where I kept my camera. Now I really felt stupid. "He was killed by an elephant because he disobeyed the signs not to take photos". These thoughts probably only took a few moments to go through my mind, and once I had my keys back in my ignition I felt safe again because I had confidence in my engine to start quickly and take me safely away. By this time the elephant was distracted by another car that approached and stopped on the other side, so I didn't need my engine and rolled my bike gently to the bend in the road. A park ranger passed in a 4x4 at this point and asked what was the problem and I pointed at the elephant that was standing guard by the roadside. The ranger drove up to elephant and reved his engine in attempt to drive it away but it only receded a little way back into the woods. A number of cars also arrived from both sides and whenever they passed the elephant would race back, trumpeting angryly. I continued to wait until the elephant ventured further back into the forest and someone waiting to pass in their car suggested that it was my chance to go. I would have waited longer, but also feeling pressure from the fading light I decided to go for it. As soon as I approached the crossing point the elephant saw me and started charging back. I had a moment to think whether I would still go for it or turn back and I decided to race the elephant to the crossing point. Having had a head start I was easily able to beat him, as long as I continued to accelerate, but I did wonder what would happen if my engine suddenly failed. As I raced away and the elephant trumpeted after me, again, I felt a bit foolish and felt as if I had a dogs tail between my legs. I hurried to the next village closely following a car for protection and booked myself into the first available room. This evening I learned that motor bikers have been killed by elephants in the forest. Now why didn't the rangers tell me at the check point I passed?

7 February 2010

I am now in Ooty, pretty a town 1350 m above sea level in the Western Ghats. There seems to be a competition between churches, temples as well as mosques here, with some churches it seeming to broad cast their sermons over load speakers - not to be out done by the temples that play their traditional religous music and the mosques that try and hypnotise you with their chants.

I am deciding where to go next. Since my last post I have been in Mangalore for a night and in Mysore for three nights. It was tempting to stay longer at Gokarna since I was beginning to make friends and it was a relaxing pleasant place to stay, but I felt I had plenty more to see in India so left again after just three nights (or was it four). Mysore was again a pleasant place to stay with its wide streets and less traffic. There were many no-horn signs about the city so it was also a lot quieter. It feels like a very new place because there are so many new fancy buildings. Even the palace is only 100 years old and much of the iron work manufactured in Glasgow.

I have begun to accumulate a number of photos I'd like to share but haven't had much time to organise them. Why, when I have taken a whole year off to explore a country am I always in a hurry?! A few sights that interested me was a lonely tree covered with bee hives - I have no idea why they liked that particular tree so much - perhaps they enjoyed being neighbours. I found another tree that seemed to be home to about 10 eagles - I don't know what kind. They had white heads. In Mysore I was amazed by the the housing estates of uniquely built expensive mansions.

From most of India I have the impression that they don't really care what their homes look like on the outside, but give them a bit of call centre money and it is amazing what they come up with! Sorry, I probably sound a bit patronising. But the truth is that I find most Indian people very funny: They approach a problem in always twos and threes, enthusiastically, and create so many bodged jobs. I have learned not to ask for any help fixing something because I can guarantee that it will be tied together with a warn out piece of string and it will take many attempts to make it work. Their building techniques look a joke when they are a mess of wonky sticks and rope supporting concrete moulds and everything is carried on the heads of a hoard of labourers. Not an energy saving pulley or wheel barrow in sight. Yet anyone with a bit of money is able to create themselves most impressive looking houses such that you would rarely see in the UK.

Good bye Goa

25 January 2010

Today I am staying again at my favourite point at Devbag Sangam, which is where the Kurly river meets the sea. Yesterday evening I impressed, or maybe more amused, the locals by climbing up a coconut tree to pick a coconut because I was thirsty. It is amazing how different a really fresh coconut water is compared to one that has been picked days if or hours before. The water is almost fizzy and tastes alive. I'm sure it must be more healthy to drink that fresh - it at least feels so. Later that evening I played cricket with the local boys. It was a lot of fun to practise my catching skills, which I had not done since school. It has also been very nice how welcoming the family has been that has provided me with a room. I have been watching how they cook with a traditional chula. It was obvious to see that a simple fan could have greatly improved the efficiency and heat output of the fire, but I was surprised how little smoke there was at ground level where the mother and niece were cooking. Based on my observations of chulas I must agree with someone else I have heard suggest that the claims that indoor fires are seriously affecting peoples health are probably over exaggerated. My experience of frying a chapati is that the smoke was as easy to avoid as if you are sitting by a camp fire. I could easily hold my breath when the smoke came in my direction but it did sometimes smart my eyes.

Far more important for health reasons is to solve the problem of burning plastic. In built up areas it can be difficult to get a breath of fresh air between the stench of smouldering plastic. Burning the plastic in a properly ventilated stoves might help as more of the toxic gasses would be burned. Such stoves could be made locally from used cooking oil tins of which there are many. Ideally all the plastic bottles should be recycled but this only accounts for some of the plastic. All the crisp packets and food wrappers are thrown on the ground and are mixed up with leaves that are swept in piles and burned on every corner. I wonder if all of these piles were collected and incinerated how much electricity could be produced.


27 January 2010

I am back in Goa trying to decide if I'll leave tomorrow morning and where I shall go. It is a bit of a bother that my visa ends on 13 April which does not give me much time to travel around the South of India and help out at the tree plantation at Auroville, let alone to volunteer on an organic farm. New emigration rules say I have to leave the country for 2 months before I can return. I considered going to Sri Lanka but I don't think I am ensured for that as the British government recommends against it and I wonder if it would feel a bit trapped being on an Island for two months.  Nepal is a long way away and also feels a bit like an island because the only country I can enter from it without paying bribes is India, to which I will not be welcome. I think I would be allowed travel through India though if I wanted to visit Bangladesh.

28 January 2010

I am still in Goa. I managed to lose my key last night and could not break into my room till this morning so I decided it was my sign that I should stay another day. The problem was that the key was only attached to a piece of string, so being very light it must have slipped out when I took my bike keys out of my pocket. Despite having only visited two places since having the key last I could not find it. Luckily, despite the impressive size of the lock, it was just a cheap Indian lock made of soft iron that was not difficult to cut with a hacksaw blade. I think my own miniature locks are harder to break.

There is not a lot to keep me here yet it is a hard place to leave with my host and cafe staff on the beach asking me to stay a little longer because they want my custom. The sales women on the beach have also been fun to talk to. They too mainly want me to buy things but I have only bought one over priced shirt as I don't need anything else that they have. But I have been happy to buy some food and drink for them. It has been interesting hearing about their lives. I have mainly been talking to three sisters. Not surprisingly perhaps I have learned that they are quite well off with a new big house about 400 km from here where they come from. They are beautiful girls and having been working on the beaches since they were children and have mastered the art of charming single men that they are happy to pay extortionate prices. One of the first questions they asked me was if I was single and were very friendly when I said yes. One of their tricks is to ask for some foreign money as a souvenir and gifts of £10 or £20 worth equivalent from such men seems to be quite common, which is big money in rural India. You have to feel a little sorry for them because they have been denied an education by their parents (unlike their brothers) and now are being forced into arranged marriages and have babies with men they don't particularly care for. Because they observe the freedom foreign women have here I think they don't accept Indian traditions like their parents did but tell me that arrange marriages provides them with much greater security.

Tomorrow I plan to leave for Gokarna.

29 January 2010

For some reason I forgot to bcc my blog with this post. I am now in Gokarna on Om Beach. First impressions is that I will find it hard to leave. It is a pretty chilled place that is still less comercial compared to Goa and people seem much more friendly. :)

A mango farm that uses biodynamic techniques

25 January 2010

On the 23rd I visited a new mango farm near Devgad. It uses biodynamic techniques as prescribed by Rudolf Steiner. The man behind it is a physicist in Devgad whom I happened to meet on the road between Devgad and Malwan when I stopped to take a photo. He, like myself, believes that the current chemical farming techniques are not sustainable and that biodynamic farming techniques can be. He, you could say, is an entrepreneur, because he is also looking to make money from his enterprise and already has an organic store in Mumbai to sell his produce and hopes to export some of the mangos he grows in the future.

His choice of land to start the farm was a desert-like rocky landscape, save a number of mature mango trees further down the hill. The choice of land was down to the high level of iron in the ground which is important for giving mangos their flavour. The total area of the farm occupies 3 acres.  Most of the trees he is planting himself giving him a total of 150 mango trees, many banana trees and a handful of coconut trees - I forget the precise numbers! He is also growing pineapples and rice in the monsoon and watermelons in the dry periods.

In order to plant his trees on his rock and desert farm he had to blast holes in the rock and fill the holes with soil. This might sound a bit drastic but what he is doing at the same time is creating an ecosystem capable of supporting more wildlife, and of course, generating more food.

When I asked about disease and pests he said that it can be minimised by boosting the plants natural defences by ensuring it had all the correct nutrients to grow. These he provided with a cow dung compost from his two oxen, to which he added plants that were particularly good at extracting the required nutrients, such as sulphur, from the ground. He was able to able to point out indications of different deficiencies in Mango trees from either the yellowing of leaves or knotted flower growth. A particular insect pest he was able to control by spraying with the bacteria Rhisorbium, Azatobactor and Nitrococcus. The bacteria sprays  last three times as long as chemical sprays so are not more expensive to use. These, and small quantity of apparently organic fertiliser called NaturaLife SuperCrop, I understood, are the only external inputs (apart from electricity and the occasional use of a tractor and tools) that he requires. I have yet to find out if their use has any negative impacts and what their embedded energy, water and land use is in their production.

If the techniques used conform to organic and biodynamic standards such as of The Soil Assiocation and Demeter respectively, I am most impressed by what he claims, that his mango trees can achieve two to three times the yield compared to a conventional chemical farm with up to 500 mangos from a mature tree. The reason for this he claims is that his methods boost the number of micro-organisms in the soil that aids the trees with their uptake in nutrients.

I think clearly his methods will be better for the environment but I question whether it is sustainable. My idea of sustainability is that the nutrient inputs must match the outputs and that the inputs must not depend on the use of oil (which is a non renewable resource) and should not require a large amount of land or water that it impacts on food production elsewhere. I intend to write to the NaturaLife company to see what they say as their website is not very informative.

Photo: mature mango trees - about 30 years old,  with the typical walls surrounding them that protect the soil from erosion during the monsoon.

Malwan to Goa

[Sun 17 January 2010]

Tonight I am staying at the tip of, effectively, a sand bank, near Malwan. It is very pretty here and I went for a swim in the sea just as the sun was setting. The sea was neither too warm nor too cold. I am staying in a big house all to myself, which probably usually sleeps 10-20 Indian tourists. I paid Rs. 400 for a night and a meal, which is more than I can afford to pay every day. Last night I stayed in Devgad for Rs. 200 and paid Rs. 30 for a meal.

Yes, as you see, I have not exactly stuck to my plan of heading to Goa from Ratnagiri in one day. I have found, that despite all the locals telling me that there is no coastal road, that in fact there sort of is and it is the MSH4, and there are many pretty places to visit along the way. I only once had to make a diversion because a bridge was not complete and I had missed the 7am ferry. Another location where the bridge was also not complete the small passenger ferry was willing to carry my bike on board. I was greeted by a policeman coming the other way at this point and he asked me where I was going and to see my documents. I was happy that they were complete as I expect to meet many more inquisitive police entering Goa.

Tomorrow I shall embark on the rest of the supposedly non existing coastal (or best kept secret) road to Goa. I'll also be hoping not to be bitten too much by mosquitoes, which are also not supposed to exist here - hence the glass and mesh free windows. I think I shall burn some insect repellent just in case. I have already killed two mosquitoes.

[Tue 19 January 2010]

So I finally arrived in Goa yesterday. I had no difficultly in following the MSH4 and there was only one ferry to catch where the bridge was not complete and the ferry was big enough to take a few cars. I'm not sure what to think of Goa now. It is very exciting returning, trying to remember my way. I thought that my memory of where everything was was more complete, but things have changed so much in five years I wonder how easy I would have found it if I had been here just the day before. I am staying in Vagator in the North of Goa. When I explored North of Vagator five years ago there were very few tourists about and I'd pass an Indian on a motorbike just every couple of minutes. Workers along a river bank were intrigued to see a foreigner. Now the roads North of Chapora have lost their innocence and there is a constant stream of foreigners whizing about on scooters and motorbikes, lorries kicking up dust  and a new bar or small hotel on every corner - already looking weathered. Chapora, itself, has been further developed into a commercial trendy image. In many ways it reminds me of Newquay in England, which I think has lost its charm and is more of drinking hole were people go to get laid.

Most people here seem to be concentrating so much on their image that they never look around and smile. Where as five years ago most tourists here were Israily now they are 70% Russian. Maybe the Russian don't smile much!

Perhaps I am biased, coming from rural India where I am accustomed to being a celebrity. There I am obliged to wave to the children and call out "numuskar" (greetings) in order not to be rude. Greeting the locals usually has the effect of turning the most suspicious stare into a big smile. In Goa of course every one is used to seeing foreigners, and I expect many either are annoyed with them or simply see them as prey - or a way of making money.

I took my bike for servicing today and they adjusted the idle speed, which was set to high, and it now is running very well. I could have done that! I also ran out of petrol which enabled me to get my mileage, which I am proud to say was an impressive 87 km per litre (kmpl). I can't quite believe it because my total average is just 61 kmpl so I hope I haven't made a mistake. If it is correct I expect it is down to my free-wheeling down all the hills!

I am staying with my old land lord's house, which was a challenge to find even with my GPS, amongst a maze of other other houses. It was nice to meet him again. He now has a 5 year old daughter who was born shortly after I left. If anyone is passing through Goa and wants a cheap simple room call Sam on +91 9881201127.

[20 January 2010]

Today I explored Goa a bit, where I saw a lake and many many churches all on the same hill. I've never seen so many in once place before. I think they must have been having a competition with the temple builders who had also gone crazy on the neighbouring hill. I also returned to the seaside restaurant, now called the Fish Tail, then called the Disco Valley Restaurant, which was my old haunt five years ago and has also become more trendy. I was surprised that the landlord instantly recognised me and he gave me a free cocktail. It was even more nice of him when he insisted that I should not pay for my salad or mineral water! I guess he knows that I will feel obliged to continue to be his regular customer. :)

Photo: where I was staying near Malwan with a river on one side and the sea on the other side.


 

Motorcycle Diaries

[14 June 2010]

I have now left Phaltan and am finally embarking on my motorcycle adventure. The journey started in Vashi, Mumbai, where I received my Yamaha Crux with just 3 km on the speedometer. The speedometer is now reading 1060 km at Mahabaleshwar. Since leaving Mumbai I travelled south along the west coast, saw in the new year at Murud and then headed inland over the mountains, the Western Gahts, to Phaltan. There were many pretty parts on the way, particularly in the Western Gaghts. Travelling up hill was very slow though, since although the motorbike has plenty of power to take me and my luggage, the motor tends to overheat if I go faster than 30 km/hr up hill, and requires a rest every half an hour. I can tell when it gets too hot because it starts losing power, probably because the pisten head gets stiffer in the cylinder and if I use more throttle the egine gives a clattering sound. I hope I have not pitted the pisten head already and that the overheating will sort itself out in another 1000 km when the engine has warn in a bit.

I stayed in Phaltan until the 13th of Janurary  while I rounded things off and met a new volunteer from Germany. The first weekend (i.e Sunday, which was the only day off in the week) I explored the local area and found a winding track up the side of a mountain that I had spotted on Google maps. It was quite a challenge to find because there are so many dead ends near the mountains, so taking the wrong turning usually means you have to go all the way back, as opposed to finding an alternative route. I even had to travel along a river bed for a while because the road and been washed away. But it was worth it for the views and it was fun knowing I couldn't have found the track up the mountain without the GPS. it is inacessible by car and only a few locals seems to use it as a short by motorbike

The next weekend I travelled to a fort 100 km away with the new volunteer on my bike and a four Indian friends on two other bikes. So when it came to leaving Phaltan I had already covered 900 km and was already comfortable on the bike and with the Indian style of driving - which is very similar to the way one might walk. Indian drivers and pedestrians have a tendency to not to look sideways before they change direction. Particularly in the countryside, people are not used to the concept that they might get hit by a fast moving vehicle if they suddenly change direction. It is for this reason that the continuous sounding of car and motorbike horns has become so common and is a practise I am mastering too. It is sometimes quite difficult to know if it is a good time to use the horn, or when using it is only a poor excuse to go faster and rudely push people aside. In India you have extremes of very timid drivers, crawling along at 30 km/hr, and those that seem to be in a hurry to go to hell, usually driving an SUV and overtaking recklessly. I think I probably fall somewhere in the middle, typically doing somewhere between 40-60 km/hr, and I like to think, filtering through junctions with a relaxed but confident speed and power. Another trick is to use your headlights to intimidate oncoming overtaking traffic to let them know that you don't intend to be driven off the road - but of cause, you always have to be prepared for a quick stop in the gutter!

[15 June 2010]

I spent two nights in Mahabaleshwar, exploring the sights during the day and watching the sun set from Bombay Point with the 200 other Indian tourists. I was told about 70% of the tourists at Mahabaleshwar come from Pune. It was actually nice to be able to interact a little with a couple of female Indians, since the Pune people are a little more modern or liberal. In the country you won't get more than a quick glance and smile from women. Not because they are not as interested in seeing a foreigner as the men, but because it is not a done thing to for them to interact with strange men. The Indian men make up for this though, reminding me that I am beautiful, asking what hair products I use (occasionally a bit of soap and plenty of natural grease!) and of course asking for my photo and even sometimes my autograph, because they think I look like someone famous from the movies. I know what you are thinking: he loves the attention!

Today I travelled from Mahabaleshwar, and of course India showed again that it is bigger than it looks! I made it to Ratnagini, about 200 km from Mahaleshwar, and is a busy, but not a very touristy sea side town. The journey only was harder than expected, because I am disappointed to say, the motorbike is not quite coping. It eventually over heats going just 50 km/hr on undulating hills. This ain't good enough because it takes half an hour to cool down a little and I can't be stopping for half and hour every hour or two! Consequently I have had to be creative to make the most of what it can give: using only the smallest amount of throttle and changing up gear as soon as possible to keep the engine revs low and, more recently, I found that doing the dis-advised thing of disengaging the engine on down-hills  (that don't require the breaks) and letting the engine idle for a while, greatly improves things. Free-wheeling down a hill I can often achieve the same speed as if I have the engine engaged and applying a reasonable amount of throttle. It just shows how much energy goes into vibrating the little engine. Even on a genital slope I have found that accelerating slightly and then free-wheeling helps keep the engine temperature down.

On the up side, these techniques will also save me fuel! I shall try and find a Yamaha Showroom when I can, to see if this is normal for a new bike and if it is likely to improve. Perhaps I'll need to invent a water cooling system.

[photo taken somewhere on the Mombai-Goa highway. I had to resist the temptation of explore the pretty region if I was to make any progress today]

Ok, that's all I have time for now. The battle with the bike is only adding to my adventure at the moment and I am in good spirits. I shall get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and seek out some small country roads. The road here was fine, only if I can't go any faster on it I might as well use slower roads. I am heading for Goa. Of course might not make it in one day if I take back roads as I'll probably get lost!

I am aware that I have not kept the blog up to date with what I have been doing in Phaltan. That is because I was both very busy and was trying to decide what I thought of it all. I want to finish a long report of my what I have done and have been thinking, but until it is done I shall post a short version - maybe tomorrow.

The bed bugs bit again last night. Serves me right for staying in the cheapest places, I guess. Still, I hope they won't bite another night tonight.

Me and my new mobile home!

Hi, sorry for the long blog silence. I shall soon start writing again when I have written my report for NARI. In fact I may post some or all of my report on my blog. But I can't help just sharing this news, even if I don't have anything creative to say.

I finally have a Yamaha Crux! It is such a pretty bike and a lot of fun to ride. Its not very powerful - just 100cc, but my bag is light and it takes me up all the hills no problem. I have yet to find out how efficient it is, but it is supposed to do about 70 kmpl. I am currently staying here in Mudud, which is a tourist town full of Indian tourists, but not a single westener it seems. I think they are all in Goa.

Happy Blue Moon New Year!

I'm heading back to Phaltan tomorrow via a mountain pass.

Bajaj Center website

I have almost finished the website I have been creating for the new department of NARI. The words are not mine, although I initially wrote some of the content as a template. The layout, sketch and banner is my work, although they have gone through a number of changes based on feedback from the director and family. Now the website is online, any more feed back before it is advertised would be greatly appreciated.

I am mainly interested in design comments but I am sure the director would appreciate feedback about the content.

I feel the sketch could look more professional so let me know if you think I should give it another go. The director wanted me to place the sketch somewhere on every page. I am not sure if I have found the best place yet. I couldn't get it to fit anywhere else.

The banner I think could also be improved but I feel I have run out of creative energy with it now. The director ideally wanted something more simple, but I have not been able to come up with anything better yet.

I have also not tested it properly on Internet Explorer, so please let me know if you think something does not display the way it probably should. Unfortunately every computer shows web pages slightly differently. If you could send me any screen shots of anything strange that you see that would be most helpful. To do this on Windows, press the Print Screen button on the top right of your keyboard, open Paint and past the contents in. Then save and attach to an email.

The site address is http://www.nariphaltan.org/bcsd

I have a day off tomorrow and shall go for long bike ride. Perhaps I'll have more news then. Actually, I went to see a sugar, ethanol and drinks factory today which was interesting. They are ancient facilities that look like they are about to to burst at the seams. I might post a few photos later if they are presentable.

PS. You may missed the update to my previous post. I am now famous in Phaltan having made it in the local paper. Now when I cycle about people call out my name and at the nearest opportunity tell me that they saw me in the paper. :)

After the storm

Last night I was rudely awakened by claps of thunder and I could hear the rain falling in torrents. In the morning it was still raining so I put on shorts and a semi waterproof jacket and hoped that I could get in to work without getting my laptop too wet. However, when I left the house it suddenly stopped raining. Instead, when I was almost at NARI's I realised my real challenge: passing a flooded section of road. The fields were completely flooded and looked more like lakes and where draining at the lowest point of the road. Had made a pathetic attempt at crossing but decided not to take up the challenge with my netbook on my back. After waiting with a crowed of people on one side of the road for 20 minutes eventually a tractor passed and I was able to hitch a ride with my cycle. So, I have arrived at NARI. and of course few other people are here because they couldn't take their motorbikes and cars on the tractor trailer. My only problem now is that I just discovered that I have forgotten my charger at home!

Update 18 Nov 2009
My tractor ride even made it in the local paper!

A dogs life in India

Probably the sadest thing for me about this part of India, or probably most of India, is the condition of the dogs. Here the dogs are seen as pests, or at least treated as such. Most dogs here are literally starving to death. Their population is controlled simply by the amount of food they can find - and by road traffic accidents. No one cares if they die of starvation. When they come begging they are chased away with stones. When a motor vehicle approaches a dog in the road it does not alter its path. In fact on two occasions I have witnessed dogs being specifically targeted by motor-bikers.

Yesterday I saw a puppy laying dead beside the road. Today I saw crows eating it. This evening as I ate my thali a dog saw me eating and started to beg. I looked at it and could see that it was no different to the dogs that we have at home. Yet so different was its life. At home the dogs are proud and often think they are head of the family 'pack'. This dog had no place of its own to protect. It had no job. It was edgy and nervous - looking out for the next attack from a dog or a human. Yet at the same time, as it edged closer, its whole body expressed longing. Although all it wanted was a little food, you could see, that given a good home, it was capable of so much affection. This was an animal full of feelings and was caperble of giving so much love and devotion.

The next moment the animal was rudely shoed away and it dashed into a dark corner with its tail between its legs. No, wait. Its tail had always been between its legs. How could such faithful animals have been bred to be dependent on us and then be caste into the gutter?

What should I have done? What should I do? If I feed them I will reduce their suffering a little while I am here. When I am gone they'll probably be worse off than before. If other people feed them and don't prevent them from reproducing there will be more strays and more hungry mouths to feed. I have no easy means of talking to the locals about this. If I could, what should I say? Even with all the wealth in the region from the sugar plantations the poorest people are finding it difficult to survive. There are many tractors but and few jobs. There is no room for feelings in a mechanical world.

Pick pocket

The monsoon rains made a surprise comeback for the last couple of days. Yesterday I was waiting for the rain to stop near NARI's but it didn't stop. A local cafe, which had stopped serving food was kind enough to cook me a meal especially (they usually come out of a big pot). He still only wanted 40p for it but I gave him 70. I tried to chat with the locals while waiting, which was entertaining, but not much was understood. They wanted to see some pictures of London on my laptop. Eventually the cafe was shutting so I was forced to go home in the rain. One of the locals lent me his umbrella to hold above my head while I cycled home. I accepted because I wanted to keep my laptop dry. There were a few wobbly moments as I failed to see some pot  holes in the dark and the umbrella turned inside out. But I got home all right and surprisingly dry. I might start taking an umbrella with me on bike rides in England. Sorry, those of you with facebook will have already heard so far. But not this:

This evening the rain stopped and I cycled to Phaltan to investigate why my usb modem had stopped working. I felt real bling riding with my expensive bright flashing bike lights from the UK. I haven't seen one cycle here with lights. In town I had difficulty finding the place that could help me. A customer of one of the shops was kind enough to help and took me from one place to another. No payment was asked for all his help, but he did want to become my friend and we exchanged phone numbers. Eventually we found someone who knew of a shop that could help me so I hopped on that man's motorbike and he took me there. The whole precess must have taken most of an hour. First they confirmed that I needed more credit. Then they topped it up. Then I plugged it into my eee and confirmed that it still did not work. Then we had to spend ages calling different customer care numbers because, apparently, when my credit runs down to zero they deactivate the card. During this time I remember that my wallet is in my back pocket and being in a crowded shop I need to position my leg that it is snug against me that I can feel if someone tries to take it out.

When eventually I come to pay I reach into my pocket and bingo - I don't have just my wallet in my hand, I have two! Yes two wallets. You can imagine my surprise and embarrassment when I try and pay with two wallets. I look around and ask if someone is missing a wallet. I feel like a thief. Why has someone put another wallet in my pocket?

When they understand my confusion they help me find out who's wallet it is and go through its contents. There is no money in it. Eventually we figure out that it belongs to the first helpful guy I met with whom I exchanged numbers. I give someone else my phone because I can't understand most Indian people on the phone and Anand (his name) does not not speak a lot of English. They explain that I have his wallet and tell me he is coming. So I nervously wait, expecting to be accused of a thief or be begged for some money when he sees that it is all gone. Instead, when he arrived he was full of smiles and was grateful that I was honest enough to return it. He explains that he does not keep money in his wallet.

Well you tell me what to think of this one. Can I trust him? He seems quite well off so I don't think he is after my money. Since I approached him and most Indian people are actually honest (one gets a slanted image of Indian people if one only talks to people who approach oneself - i.e touts) he is probably a decent chap. Anyway, he would like to meet with me on my next day off, which will be Sunday.

The photo: A picture of the resident geko. I have not seen it since I blinded it with my flash. I hope it is ok :S

From Mumbai to Phaltan

After spending a day finding out about the possibility of buying a motorbike and then making a tourist trip over to Elephanta Island I decided I had had enough of Mumbai and would head straight to the rural agriculture research place, NARI near Phaltan. So on Sunday morning I headed to central Mumbai train station and bought 2nd class unreserved ticket to Pune (sometimes spelt in the more phonetic way, Poona).

The journey, again, was an interesting one - Indian style. There was a big rush to get into the train as soon as the doors opened. I was not in such a hurry as there didn't seem to be enough people to occupy all the seats, but apparently I was wrong. Each person aggressively defended a number of seats for their friends or family who would turn up later. Then the remaining seats were guarded by young boys who didn't have tickets but would only give up a seat in exchange for money. After walking away towards the next carriage the requested price soon dropped and I decided to pay the Rs. 10 (about 13p) in case I couldn't find another seat. I probably should have just cuffed one of the boys round the ears and claimed the seat for myself, but I later discovered other late arrivals were happy to pay the ransom.  So maybe it is the done thing if you want to turn up late and can afford to pay a little more. Still considering I only paid Rs. 50 for the 3 hour journey, another Rs. 10 seemed a rip-off. At first the journey was comfortable, but at the next stop a few too many people got on. Then the next stop many more people got on. Eventually we were packed in like sardines and I was squashed against the window sharing my seat with an old man and people where occupying every inch of floor and overhead luggage space. Still, I had a nice view of the mountain pass and I managed to wrestle myself and my bag out at Pune station in time.

I was not impressed with Pune, or at least of what I saw of it: it was lots traffic penned in by tall walls. Not a nice place to walk. But walk I did as I still prefer to find my own way and ask people where is a good place to stay. I headed to the backpackers area of town. Here I found a number of westerners dressed in purple robes that looked in a world of their own. They were attending an expensive meditation resort. I stopped to talk to one one of the robed people, but she didn't seem to know much, though she tried to be helpful. Other westerners all seemed to be in a mood and avoided eye contact. Was it the way I looked? Did they not like seeing other westerners in a backpackers hangout? What ever their reasons, once I had haggled the price of a room down to a more reasonable, yet still expensive rate of Rs. 300, I hung out chatting with the locals who were much more friendly. I also had a nice conversation with an Iraqi student who was in India studying for a masters in English.

The next day I walked around the market area and had a Rs. 20 shave and slowly made my way back to near the train station were I arranged to meet an intern from NARI who was on his way back after spending a couple of days in Pune. Having an hour to kill I was delighted to find a secret garden were I was able to lie down in peace. It was quite a luxury. I later found out on GMapCatcher that it is called Wilson Garden and located here.

After a dusty and bumpy ride on a bus with the intern we arrived at Phaltan and went straight to a local restaurant to eat. I was surprised how cool it was. I am told that it is due to the number of farms in the region: all the water evaporating from the field s the air right down as soon as the sun goes. I was told that the temperature often drops to about 12 C, even though every day it is a pretty steady 30 C.

So here I am in Phaltan. NARI kindly has provided me with accommodation, consists of a room, private toilet, kitchen and dinning room, with the latter two shared with the intern. So, although simply furnished, it is more than I need. Of course I wasted no time in finding out my coordinate. 

I have been keeping pretty busy since I have arrived, which is why I have not given an update before now. Life at the moment consists of getting up at 8 am, washing, having misel (curry on bombay mix with thicker curry on the side and a couple of chapati's. Then I hop on the back of the interns motorbike and we ride the couple of miles to NARI's offices and labs.

My first job is to create a website for a new centre, the Bajaj Center that will offer educational programs and host conferences on sustainable development. I have also been busy helping the intern finish off a brochure about the centre and today I designed a logo for the centre, attached. It is a stylised profile of the centre buildings. Let me know what you think as there is still a little time to modify or redo it. My next job will be to try and solve a technical problem with an ethanol lantern/stove that NARI developed.

At about 1pm I walk to the end of NARI's drive and eat a set meal at a road side cafe, which always consists of a stainless steel tray with some rice, chapati's, thick curry, a small pot of very sour liquid yoghurt and a pot of liquid curry. (I don't eat the tray.) It makes a good meal and tastes nice, but we have pretty much the same for dinner too and I am beginning to miss some fresh fruit and veg. On the weekend I must buy some in town.

I only get Sunday's off and unfortunately this Sunday will also be the last day that the intern will be staying here. It is a shame because we have got on well and it will probably get very lonely in this house all by myself. It feels a bit like when I stayed in Italy in a flat in a small village near the lab. Only then I had a rented car. I have to sort out my transport soon.

I am reserving my judgement about NARI still because I have yet to visit their animal husbandry department and to find out if they perform any research of which I would disaprove. But my first impressions are good and I like the challenge of solving the problem with the lantern, which is effectively stabalising the temperature of the ethenol gasifier. Any questions I have about NARI's policies should be resolved soon when I design their website, as I would like to include some policy statements on it.

As you probably saw on google maps on my above links, is that the surounding area is very green with fields. The main crop here is sugar cane. The land owners here are pretty rich. Unlike the North of India that I visited 5 years ago, most people have tractors. It feels quite industrialised, with an air-raid siron going off in the morning and evening - assumably informing the labourers when they should be starting and finishing work. This is nothing to do with NARI I should add, and whom I believe only uses oxen to plow its fields. The rich local land owners are easy to spot because they all seem to drive expensive big new silver cars and land rovers - quite the opposite to NARI's style, which strongly believes that all greed should be firmly kept in check. Half of the rest of the people here still seem to be able to afford motorbikes and the other half either cycle, walk or take a ride in a trailer.

Sorry, again this was a bit of a long one.

Until my next adventure, which might be this Sunday, good bye!

So, the adventure begins... but all is still well.

[0740 - Indian time - somewhere between Delhi and Mumbai.]

I had barely touched down on Indian soil and my adventure was already taking me for me for a ride. Yes, I was definitely back in India. I guess the adventure began really when I checked in to AirIndia. For five minutes the lady wrestled with her computer. Eventually she told me that all was done and that I would have to collect my bag in Delhi and recheck it in to continue my journey to Mumbai. Her supervisor quickly corrected her and said that I would not have to collect my bag but that I still needed to go back out to departures to collect my continuation ticket. This sounded a bit odd so I checked twice that I had heard correctly.

It was my plan to test the theory that one recovers from jetlag more quickly if one skips a couple of meals before having a meal at the correct time at the destination. So, having had only a very light breakfast it didn't take me long to drift in and out of sleep on the plane - about six hours earlier than I normally go to sleep. That was after I had played with my GPS dongle for a bit. :)   I was very pleased with my seat I chose next to an emergency exit as it enabled me to both be next to the window and get up to go to the toilet regularly without disturbing my neighbour - because without food I had to drink much more water. Being next to the window enabled me to wave my dongle at some satelites and I managed to pick up a weak signal. That is, until I approached Afghanistan and I could no longer get a lock on - I don't know why.  Pity, as I was mainly interested in knowing how our flight navigated past those countries there.

[1100 - Mumbai]

So, arriving in Delhi I was a little disorientated from previously dozing and I didn't stop to wonder why as we walked out to customs that other passengers were crossing our path to catch another flight. Well I was soon to find out that w itas my flight, and by the time I was asking whre to go they told me it was my fault for not hearing an announcement. Now why couldn't the staff on my previous flight have warned me when they kindly gave me a water bottle and I told them that I wasn't sure I would be able to take it through security as I catching the Mumbai flight?...

After fallowing them around the airport and being told to wait here and there I was relieved that they managed to retrieve my bag. I also heard a last boarding announcement for a Mumbai flight - I wonder if that was mine that had not left yet because they had to remove my bag for security reasons... Well I was in their hands now, and after a bit more following someone about I was told there was not another flight to Mumbai from that airport till 9pm. I suggested that maybe I could come back another day and make a trip to Delhi. That suggestion fell on deaf ears and I waited a bit it and was told that I was booked on a domestic flight from another airport and that a favour had been done that I shouldn't talk about it [whoops] and that a tip of $20 would be nice for good will. I wasn't at all sure about that: paying another $20 for where I was already supposed to be shepherded to and getting into a pushy taxi driver's car with a bit of simple paper with a flight number printed on it... I dragged my feet, asking more questions such as what time was it and what time was my flight and maybe it was best I just called it a day and caught a train some other time. I didn't want to lose sight of my bag again. After walking away to think I was called over again and told that the flight was already arranged and did I want it or not and that I could hop on a bus for a free ride to the other airport. I thought I had nothing to lose with that and got on the bus. I sat and waited. Then a couple of security guards boarded the bus and took away my bit of paper and I sat and waited. Then after what seemed an age they returned with my bit of paper and the bus drove off - funny ways through the airport grounds past various airline hangers. I arrived at the front of the airport at 0535 and my flight left at 0600. Every queue again seemed to take to long time and because everyone else seemed to be as frantic as me I didn't feel I could do too much queue jumping - though I tried. I was running back and forth to security scan and label my bag, to check it in and pick up my ticket, to go though security and then run back to security when I was told I was missing a security tag for my cabin bag and finally I made it on the shuttle and the doors closed behind me.

I arrived this morning in Mumbai just after 8am only two hours later than expected and again to my relief my bag made my flight.

So, I am definitely back in India. Everything is just that little bit more crazy, yet somehow things work and actually I love it - it feels like home. I feel a bit sorry now not to have tipped the AirIndia guy as maybe he won't be as willing to help the next tourist. But if I had tipped him and missed my flight but manged to send my bag to Mumbai, I would have definitely been swearing. Did I fall into a scam?

Sorry, this blog post has been a bit long and not well edited. I am wide awake yet dazed at the same time and am taking it easy at the Salvation Army Red Shield Hostel  before heading out in search of grub and an internet cafe. I'll let you know after tomorrow if the fasting thing really worked.

[1444 - found an internet cafe]

P.s. I walked passed the recommended tourist place to eat and had a very good meal for a fifth of the price at a workman's cafe.. Now full of yummy green looking curry, rice and ge patty (spl?) and chai.