Hosahalli Tid Bits

Sameer

On my first bus ride to Hosahalli I talked with the bus driver for the last 10 minutes of the way, a guy called Sameer. He gave me his number and told me to call if I ever needed anything at all, be it bus routes or groceries from the city. Believe you me, he wasn’t kidding. On my first return trip from Mysore, I missed the 4:30pm bus to Hosahalli and called him up to ask for alternatives. He not only told me about a 5:30pm bus that went in the same direction, but also texted me a few minutes later with the name of the stop point and the bus’ vehicle number. When I found the right bus, the conductor asked me if I was Sameer’s friend. Sameer had called the bus central to ask for the bus number, and furthermore called the driver team and told them to look for me. Really great help! Two weeks later, after I had had amoebic dysentery and the school’s water filter was out of order, I called him and asked if he could pick 2 liters of mineral water for me. He arrived at the bus rest stop at 9:30pm that evening, and instead of allowing me to walk up to meet him in the dark he drove the bus down to the school, 1km away. He didn’t want me to risk running into wild animals (there are elephants, wild boars, and, albeit rarely, tigers that come out of the forest at night). Sameer refused to take a tip for it and underlined that he did it for friendship, not for money. It’s amazing when you meet such selfless people who are willing to help you out in spite of being practically a stranger. I hope he understands my deep appreciation for him.

-------------------------

When I recently walked up to the “main road” shop a kilometer away, there was an old guy who asked me to take a little girl’s picture with him. On the way back, he called after me and said I should slow down so we could walk together. He babbled rapidly in Kannada, but I understood his point – he was going towards the school himself, and it’s always better and easier to walk as two. He had a hearty, almost toothless smile. He pointed out his house and departed the path just outside the school gate.

-------------------------

If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from moving into a new room in Hosahalli, it’s that I hate wall clocks that don’t work. I’ve never seen the darn thing function and yet I still steal glances at it once in a while, caught off guard, to check what time it is. And it never tells me; it kinda feels a little like a personal insult, hehe.

The Hosahalli Roadside Shop

Standing outside the shop, looking down the road leading to VTCL

Except for a couple of kiosks between the two school campuses, there aren’t any shops right by the school. In fact, the school is around 3.5km away from the nearest village which has commercial life. There is however a ‘larger’ shop up by the main road and a couple of small kiosks (and drinking shacks further down the road), only one kilometer away. Once I found out that they stock bottled water, sodas and bananas, I started coming there quite often. I used to walk up to the store with Abhishek or Abbie & Karen to buy bananas and water, but they ran out of both for a while. During my last week at Hosahalli I would walk up to the shop on my own almost daily, and purchase water and some puri snacks to eat before dinner. I’d first sit outside the shop for a relaxed half hour, drinking soda and talking to the various school children that would walk by on their way home. It was especially fun taking pictures of the kids; they loved seeing the pictures on my camera afterwards. That’s one of my little rituals I’ll miss about Hosahalli. 

Leaving for Delhi

Silly deviations littered the road to the airport, unnoticed the first time I took the airport bus in the other direction. I casually presumed that they were metro lines under construction, but then realized that they are over-hang bridges that will speed up traffic once they’re done. At a cost of slowing it down now, I thought to myself – but they are probably a good addition, na?!

I was extremely happy to be back in Bangalore these past 2 days. It almost felt as if I had never left in the first place, hanging out with the office girl-trio at Legends of Rock (with Uma finally joining, taking Graham’s spot I guess haha). I did a cover of ‘One Step Closer’ again, but fumbled badly – probably because a slightly drunk guy next to me tried to sing along on the microphone, which distracted me from what I was doing. I also made friends with Blen, my 2-day PG roommate, who is extremely friendly and drove me at least 10KM to Cox Town on his motorbike barely half an hour after meeting each other. 

Blen

Being back near scattered parks, juice shops on every corner, the voices of endeared friends, and my favorited Sagar Fast Food nearby in my good-old Koramangala, all made me wish I could just drop my traveling plans and spend the last two weeks of my summer break in Bangalore with friends; perhaps an all-the-more appealing alternative since I will be traveling all on my own for the next two weeks. I am however a lot more mentally prepared to leave Bangalore this time around, because I saw the two-day visit in isolation as the brief visit it is. I can still feel part of the euphoria from booking my train tickets last weekend, and typing up a two-page long itinerary of plans. By the way, I capitulated and reduces my plan from 7 to 6 cities in 14 days, giving me an extra day in Jaipur (up from one-and-a-half). 

 New Delhi Airport

IndiGo provides pretty good service and we boarded the plane in good time. I was a little scared that I would be too late to check-in because of the bad traffic jam on the highway deviations, but the check-in line was non-existent. The only minor hold-up was in security where they took my small suitcase off to the side for inspection, and took out my packed Halwa (weirdly brown and deformed from being in my suitcase) that I bought in Kerala. The two security guards stared blankly at each other for an extended moment, and then the Halwa was put back in my suitcase when nobody had a clear answer. I had awkwardly realized that as a result of my small suitcase being changed from main baggage to hand luggage, a rigged kitchen knife was staring blankly at us all – about to be carried on-board an airplane. The guards didn’t give it a single look. An ironic lapse of security, considering the mesh of red tape that is an Indian airport (where the guards pointlessly stamp your tickets after passing through the metal detector).

A Day in the Hospital

On Wednesday the 11^th I started having the runs. Normally not one with a squeamish stomach, it lasted all night without getting better. In the morning I noticed that I was passing blood, and decided that I should go for a hospital visit to be on the safe side. Luckily enough, the VTCL school is affiliated with two rural hospitals that cater for tribal people in nearby villages, so I only had to take a 20-minute drive. The bus was extremely late that day, so I ended up taking a jeep (over-packed jeeps ply the routes between towns and villages as an addition to the government-run bus). On the last two kilometers, the conductor packed 6 women into the backload, so me and the other guy had to hang onto the outside of the jeeps. I normally wouldn’t have minded, in fact I would probably have found it rather exciting, but just not on a sick day... Ah well, there’s always a first. 

Although unknown at the time of arrival, I had Amoebic Dysentery. The nasty little critters had made me pass water over a dozen times since it started, so I was really weak from dehydration. The doctors immediately put me on a ward in the nursing station where they could keep an easy eye on me (“since [I] was alone”), and hooked me up to an Intravenous drip. I tried wriggling out of it by asking for Oral Rehydration Salt because, well, I really don’t like needles, but they wouldn’t hear of it. I have to admit that the three bottles of liquid they ‘pumped’ into my veins really helped and I felt way better that same afternoon. I also got started on a couple of bottles of antibiotics. 

I have never been hooked up to an IV drip, and I really wished I had brought my camera. I would have taken a picture of myself with the IV Drip, a thumbs-up and a broad grin across my face – that would have captured the irony of me looking way more sick than I actually was. 

I was very bored that day and swore that I would bring a book next time I went to a hospital. In the evening I went looking for the two Cornell volunteers I had met at the school, and found them in one of the doctors’ house. I had a good talk with Dr. Mohan while the girls made fried rasgulla with his wife, Dr. Arundhati. The next day I (finally!) got discharged around lunch time, and got a ride back to the school by the Deputy Director of SVYM who was headed out to watch Karen & Abbie’s leaving presentation – still tired, but with a supply of antibiotic pills.

The Bangalore Trip

On the Saturday the 7^th, I went for a quick weekend trip to Bangalore for the GSE goodbye reception. In hindsight I probably wouldn’t have done it, since it took a total of 7 hours just to get to Bangalore. After that I had to deal with B’lore city traffic to get to meet my former co-workers from Dream A Dream for an hour, and then another hour to get to the reception (late) through rush hour.

Fancy hotel with a fancy reception - as I walk in, I immediately feel under-dressed in my Wooster T-shirt and sweatshirt. I casually put down my sweatshirt, and flatten the folds on my hopefully plain-looking T-Shirt. Crap, this ain't no party?! Guess I should have figured from the venue.

Pre-snacks, speeches, fancy non-vegetarian food and an open bar. I had a bout of anxiety and couldn't sit still; didn't feel like talking. I was constantly taking nervous swigs from my glass, so I stuck to Bacardi Breezers. I performed a couple of socially-required interactions with people, and tried to sit away from people. Had no appetite, although I hadn't eaten since 11am that day, so I couldn't squeeze down anything beyond two gulps of soup and some salad. 

The evening got better later on; caught up with someone until 3am that night, then woke up at 8am to catch a bus back to Mysore. Another 7 hours on the bus, with a quick stopover in Mysore for some internet access and a shopping spree for more granola bars. Soooo much time to think by oneself.

The Elephant Hike

The day before we went to Mysore, we (Karen, Abbie, myself and Jairam) walked over to a lake by the edge of the forest, about 4 or 5 kilometers from the school (June 30^th). It was a beautiful day for a walk, and a thin lake was visible to our right most of the way.  Most of the land out there is cultivated, splitting the land into squares that roll over gentle hills. Nearer the lake we walked past a mechanical windmill that looked as if it had been pulled straight out of a Wild West movie.

When we got close to the lake, we had a clear view because all the trees leading down to the water had recently been felled. On the other side the great forest stretched far far away. There were at least a dozen cows grazing, and one of the calves seemed really interested in me. I let it smell my hand and it gently head-butted me, which I took as a thing of playfulness. I smilingly walked on, catching up with the rest of the group. When we got to the water edge, we spotted a family of elephants on the other side of the shore that were drinking from the lake. Although we couldn’t see them clearly, it was such a beautiful sight to see elephants in their natural habitat and we all ooh-ed a little. 

There were a group of men with a Landcruiser by the shore, and one of them also had a Nikon camera. I borrowed his zoom lens and tried it on mine, and thus managed to take some better shots of the elephant herd (which was now walking towards a lonely male that had just come out of the forest). The men were a group of friends all involved with businesses in Mysore and around, and one of them was building a resort just behind the lake. They offered me a drink and their last pieces of chicken they had been enjoying, which I gladly accepted. I didn’t stay long because the others wanted to go back, but it was interesting to sit down and randomly converse with a group of friendly strangers.