I woke about 7.30 to a fart-like sound. Sindhu had spilled some rice when her bag ripped. Her daughter and I picked grains fromt he kitchen floor while she picked over the rice she'd already poured from her bag. He husband came in from their fields. He was wearing a plastic sheet tied over his lunghi to keep it dry. This was his day off this week.
(I seem to have spent the whole day blogging about the last 10 days. This is what I wrote about today.)
OK then, after a blogging break caused by being on the road and in places where even CellOne (India's rural - but crap - cellphone service) won't reach, I'm back in Nedumkandam for a few days to do laundry, dry out and arrange the next bit of travel. Meanwhile, here's an enhanced version of what made it into my diary over the past week or so. Some of this goes over time I've already blogged about but I'm sure you can synthesise the two into one coherent account. If not, remember the secret is to keep banging the rocks together.
Yet again, I'm appalled at my prose...
Now back in Nedumkandam, airing out my head, about to do some dhobi and get ready to move on! See you later, space-cats!
There's a note in my paper diary about a malayalam song which can be translated as follows:
Little Krishna are you
sleeping in a holy leaf?
Play the bamboo flute.
When I heard this music,
I had an overdose of dreams.
In my life at that time
very good girls.
When you play, I sing.
It sounds like:
Aa-li-la-kanaa
Nindey muralika
Kelkumbowl
Yenmansil
Partunairum
Aieerummmmm
Kana vuna rum
Oi-i-ringggg
Ve-di-ill
Sora kanye kumar
Nada madum
Today contined with a meal at a local restaurant called Yuvardja where another of Ajeesh's relatives works: masala dosa and black tea for Rs12. You can do the maths. I wonder how much the workers make per hour?
Ajeesh then drove us back towards his house. At the place where he parks his car (about 500m from his house but just before the road gets impossible), we met some of his friends who live about in a nearby 'suburb', 100 or so metres vertically above his house and about 1km of jeep-rutted track away. They have a small chai-shop that seems to fulfil the functions of a UK pub - apart from selling alcohol.
One of them is a self-taught electronic engineer. He introduced me to the sound-system he's cobbled together and we bounced around his house. It's a shame to see his skills going to waste: he wants to be a fully-fledged hardware engineer - you can guess why it hasn't yet happened.
Back at the house, another food-gasm courtesy of Jaya:
© (except the blatantly ripped-off bits) Random Bozo 2006