Monday, January 14

YEAR:  2019 | Tags:  | | | |

Sagara, 10:45


I woke at 8:06 to the sound of roadworks outside the window so, after a moment of mild confusion, I got up to see what I could see. To my surprise I could see a gang of workmen tarring the other half of the road; the half that starts at our house and continues past Molly, Tangaray, and Mr Pillai’s houses.

At 10:30 a man from the animal rescue shelter comes to collect Frosty and Freeda. Mary says that they will almost certainly get adopted now because they have become so used to human company that they will know how to behave when people turn up at the shelter.

We have grown very used to them but we cannot possibly keep them. I would feel happy if someone took them both. Not only have they got used to us, they have got very used to each other.

They leave with their tennis ball.

At 11:30 we will set off to visit kanthari, a Braille Without Borders venture, founded by Sabriye Tenberken and Paul Kronenberg with the aim of “empowering social visionaries”. We will expect the visit to take an hour. We will sit talking for three and a half hours, and realise that we could have set there for another three.

The campus, which Paul designed and partly built, stands on the edge of Vellayana lake, and they have added the upkeep of the lake to their duties.

Our discussions will range from Buddyschool to online media; from SISP to restaurants in Kovalam.

I will leave feeling dazed and energised; recalling that I offered to think of ways that we can collaborate in the near future. I will think of several possibilities and start jotting down notes when we get home.

We will return to the highway at 20:00 to look at the now-officially-open Temple Festival. We will find it all set up for a party, with food sellers, ice-cream trucks, and toy stalls. We will find it mysteriously empty.

Tangaray will explain that the parade marches from Trivandrum and arrives at 23:00. He will drive us to a village to watch it pass.

We will see the men hanging from hooks, and the men marching with sharp sticks impaled through their cheeks. You can see them here.

Oh the crowds!