Mahabalipuram, the ninety-seventh day

Lita, Chris and Sally, the Australians from Puri, arrived here and I'm in the same situation as often in Paris. The longtime friends are calling for an intimacy that I began to share with others. One side is automatically disappointed when they are not both at once. I like to count for my friends, and, as nothing is free, I try to give the same feeling in return. Is it me who gives people the feeling of counting for me more than they actually do, or them who expect more than I can really give, deceiving themselves by thinking a moment they received more? I will try to Goa to keep my distance enough to avoid falling into the same dilemma.
 

What a bore!
I've never met anyone who was enough in itself, which brought me everything I needed in others. Should we give up some pleasures to give exclusivity to the one who brings the most? Already difficult in love and how much more in friendship! If I said that we must learn to be content with what one has, I think I am; I have a lot. That the others could be happy with me is another thing less obvious. Is this not precisely the idea of ​​keeping the distance, do not worry about what others expect of you? One says: "I was looking for you!" when in fact we only sought a pretext to escape some other people. We are happy to find those who allow us to leave the "boring ones" that politeness and good manners forbade us to leave for no reason, but very soon we are taken prisoner by the new ones, so we get back to the firsts!

Mahabalipuram, the eighty-sixth day

We visit the temples, we eat on the street and we observe the nature. We learn the simplicity and beauty of ethnic life and distance is taken from misery. We will go home and India will have been a wonderful experience. But few imagine or have the opportunity to see the daily life of the Indian bourgeoisie. Tourists go to places for tourists and if by chance there are no tourists, in places where there are only poor. The Indians have an easy way of life similar to ours and this is not the goal of our vacation to see a copy of everyday life.

  Visiting this theme park for children after the crocodile farm and the tiger caves, was more interesting than it appeared. It was the first time I had the opportunity to go to a place where only tourists without the "middle class" seemed acceptable. Only happy people, children who were just playing and none of which seemed to work for his parents, a world apart! All these people did not really seem to exist in touristic areas; they do not mix with the working class. When the “middle class” is present in luxury places where also the tourists are, they lose their identity as Indians ethnic curiosity because we are so similar and we do not even pay attention to them, but finding them in a reserved place, a kind of ghetto, was strange.

Mahabalipuram, the ninety-fifth day

It's a bit the same old story. I met Leo on the train to Puri where he introduced me Katherine, of Zurich, with whom he shared a room in Calcutta. Katherine and Tera, from Winnipeg, met on the same line, and decided to travel together. I cross them in Mahabalipuram and spend all my time with them. Especially with Tera, whose conversation is "entertaining".

 Ability to put humor in serious things, to make nonsense like about hunting squirrels that you can buy stuffed on every corner. I laugh all day, life is easy! I also found back Einir the "trekker girl" of the Sugat Hotel in Kathmandu, with pleasure. This company is very different from the one of the Australians of Puri. We are a group where I have an active part; I am not just a spectator.

Mahabalipuram, the ninety-fourth day

I miss Puri a little bit, but the presence of the tenants of the "Broad-Lands" in Madras makes the integration into the village a bit easier. One meets at the beach, then you visit together the temple of the holy white eagles, you’ll get to the dance festival and an appointment for the next sunrise is given. My trip has become very social. It is not just the one-time of the Australians in Puri; it is also the answer to a need after three months of travel. I wonder if, coming back to Paris, I will systematically get in contact with my neighbors in bars, restaurants, housing or transportation. I may perhaps deal with some reluctance!

Mahabalipuram, the ninety-third day,

I left Madras with six new suits and my mood found itself excellent all over the day. I took a room for a week and I regret it already. It is noisy and uncomfortable; the opposite of Madras, but at least it's very cheap. Otherwise the village is quite nice but without this intimacy of Puri where it was so good to do nothing. There is plenty of organized tourism and a bus of retired people may land in your restaurant at any minute if you had the misfortune to choose a western one.