6 November 2015
This evening after our first Indian
train journey we arrived to what is meant to be our home for the next
five months; a beautiful house right on the shore of, in fact 20
meters from, the Arabian sea right in the middle of a coconut grove –
a tropical paradise.
All is not that bad: the hall looks
beautiful, with sofas covered by throws and cushions depicting other
Indian motifs with jolly elephants; one of my favourite animals. From
the hall I enter what is meant to be the office, however it looks
like it was last used just before the British left India before
independence and then left in a rush, taking only whatever they could
carry on their backs. Old musty pillows on the floor, desk
overflowing with papers, and many tidbits
left there just in passing by. From there I enter the lovely big
kitchen, which looks like it could do with a bit of dusting and
sorting out, but I am not demoralised yet. I am determined to stay
positive. I see that there is a nice red American style fridge where
I hope to place the basic shopping we've done on the way from the
train station.
“what is this?” I wonder loudly in
my head.
I open the fridge and seeing the black
mould marks inside I exclaimed: ''This is disgusting!'' looking at
the local guy – the host – who is supposed to be the person
looking after the house and the cook when guests are around. I am
already imagining the food poisoning and every illness under the sun
looming over us. I cannot even imagine when was the last time that
this fridge was cleaned. Alarmed by my face and clear disgust on it,
our host quickly picks up the first cloth that he can find and starts
cleaning the fridge. I am not going to comment on the cleanliness of
that cloth!
That done, I am left alone I the
kitchen to sort out the shopping, when suddenly I see a mouse running
from the sink to the cooker. I shout for the host and go to find him
on the terrace: ''Hey, there is a mouse in the kitchen” say I, in a
slightly panicky voice, to which he replies in his broken English,
smiling while tilting his head from left to right in the way most
Indians do: ''little mouse?''
By this time it is slowly starting to
dawn on me that our tropical paradise may turn out to be a tropical
nightmare... I am thinking this just as the whole house suddenly
descends into darkness – power cut – not a long one, but the
first one and, I am to learn, one of many that are part of daily life
here in this part of tropical India. My new temporary home is for
sure tropical but I am starting to question whether it is a real
paradise...
Gordana
Stankoviċ
is
a
qualified counsellor and life coach. Her
counselling and coaching approach is an integration of humanistic
counselling, otherwise known as person-centred counselling, and the
model of Nonviolent
Communication, a
process developed by Dr.
Marshall B. Rosenberg, which
offers practical and powerful skills for compassionate giving,
receiving and
helping,
to create deep, meaningful connections and relationships, and
transforming conflicts into peaceful dialogue.
Gordana
velues
peace, the authenticity of every human being, relationships based on
trust, acceptance and genuine contribution to each other's lives.
http://www.livingpeacefully.eu
This is a shock after shock...And I expected wifi access previously:)...Apart from the neglected interior which could be rehabilitated eventually, it is clear that the resort lacks a basic infrastructure, which is what many British and Europeans would need.
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