Walking through the darkened back streets of Madurai to get to the Internet Cafe as it gets dark around 6 pm here and sun rises at 6 am as we are nearly at the Equator and many streets don't have lights, I was "accosted" by a group of young children who live on the street I am staying at. There were probably all between ages of 7 and 10 or so, playing barefoot in the trash-littered streets with no abandon.
First one of them came up, then within minutes, I was surrounded by little dark faces with smiling eyes, asking me "where from?" "Countries?" "What occupation?" and whether I was going to the Gandhi museum in Madurai and numerous other things, all at once. Luckily I have taught Italians in Italy who also all talk at once, so I was semi-prepared for the onslaught of questions. They kept this up for ten minutes or so, but I assured them that I would be here for a while, so they left me to go back to their playing, laughing and speaking again in Tamil with each other, surely about the strange, white guy walking in the dark.
It reminded me of this scene from Bernardo Bertolucci's Little Buddha in which the young American boy, Jessie, has just arrived in Katmandu and has an unexpected "tour" of its backstreets, similar to my trip to the slums of Mumbai (though watching this again, the slums were much, much, poorer than this). Later, he and his dad try to phone home, with limited success as has been my experience so far with coodinating emails. However, I was speaking with Pradeep, my host, about how strange all of this world traveling must have been when you could only send letters that would take weeks or months to receive, and you would never know if they actually had been received. One of the modern conveniences of the Internet and mobile phones (which I have yet to get, much to the chagrin of a few people, but I will!) that we so readily take for granted.
Like Jessie, and Dorothy, I know that I am not in Kansas any more, however, and will make do with what I can in the meantime. As well as serve for the evening entertainment of my new, curious little friends.
First one of them came up, then within minutes, I was surrounded by little dark faces with smiling eyes, asking me "where from?" "Countries?" "What occupation?" and whether I was going to the Gandhi museum in Madurai and numerous other things, all at once. Luckily I have taught Italians in Italy who also all talk at once, so I was semi-prepared for the onslaught of questions. They kept this up for ten minutes or so, but I assured them that I would be here for a while, so they left me to go back to their playing, laughing and speaking again in Tamil with each other, surely about the strange, white guy walking in the dark.
It reminded me of this scene from Bernardo Bertolucci's Little Buddha in which the young American boy, Jessie, has just arrived in Katmandu and has an unexpected "tour" of its backstreets, similar to my trip to the slums of Mumbai (though watching this again, the slums were much, much, poorer than this). Later, he and his dad try to phone home, with limited success as has been my experience so far with coodinating emails. However, I was speaking with Pradeep, my host, about how strange all of this world traveling must have been when you could only send letters that would take weeks or months to receive, and you would never know if they actually had been received. One of the modern conveniences of the Internet and mobile phones (which I have yet to get, much to the chagrin of a few people, but I will!) that we so readily take for granted.
Like Jessie, and Dorothy, I know that I am not in Kansas any more, however, and will make do with what I can in the meantime. As well as serve for the evening entertainment of my new, curious little friends.
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