Mamalapuram is a small post-tsunami fishing village with monumental rock carvings and temple complexes from the 6th century and a laid back but intense tourist (mainly Indian)infrastructure. I arrived last night from the airport at about 2:00 am, being met by a taxi driver with a sign reading "Rob Fort Collins"...there seemed to have been some confusion about my last name. I had my first lesson in adjusting to travel in India around 2:30 am, to wit, "Hang up the mosquito net only after you have turned off the ceiling fan" or the whirling blade with cut your hand if you're not careful. I was not careful and this morning had my first adventure with South Indian clinic care.
Am not yet adjusted to the time...but I have learned to stay out of the noon day sun, to order coffee with milk (the original latte), to take off my sandals when entering homes, clinics, cybercafes, to take it slowly, to let the experience sink in, to give thanks I am not part of an organized tour being taken to "see" things, to appreciate the soft way in which Tamil is spoken, to enjoy the morning and evening sea breezes, to learn how to eat dosas, and to give thanks for this experience. Waiting for my flight to Chennai in Frankfort I thought I could just get onto a train and spend a few weeks in Europe. Am glad I did not. There will be time for Europe...now is the time for something more adventurous. Ceiling fans and all.
