Kottayam

Well, I'm out of the ashram. Just so you know, I actually did manage to get back into the headstand one more time before I left. It still needs work, but the important point, the one you want to be careful not to forget - is that I CAN STAND ON MY HEAD (even if it is only for about two seconds).

I left the ashram a couple of days ago, to meet a friend and hobo around a little bit together. (This is someone I met at the ashram when I was here last January, and we kept in touch.) So anyway, now we are Kottayam, with the main objective of getting to one of the hill stations as soon as possible.

What's the rush, you ask? Indian weather, that's what. The last few days at the ashram had all the characteristics of living in a sauna. The rain comes pouring down, but the heat doesn't get the hint, and it just sticks around, waiting for the clouds to stop dripping. And then, BAM, it hits you again, only this time so much wetter. I kid you not - my glasses literally steamed up periodically, just from being out there in the weather.

So, I wiped them off, and headed for the hills. I have been promised that the hill stations, as they call them, are much cooler, so that you can actually breathe without feeling like you are being cooked. From the inside.

Anyway, so far, all I've seen is more rain. We took a bus yesterday from Thiruvananthapuram (this is just me showing off, because it's commonly called Trivandrum, but I like to prove that I can say it and spell it) to Kottayam. Since I'm traveling with a real live Indian now, I get to take the local transportation instead of paying the big bucks for a private taxi. Not that I'm not allowed to do it on my own, just that I'm too chicken to deal with all the signs in Malayalam (the local language which looks like a bunch of circles and squiggles), and the Great Mystery of boarding a bus without really knowing where it's going - the local population would love to help you, but even if they do know which bus you should be taking, they don't necessarily know how to make themselves understood. And even if they don't know, that's not going to stop them from trying to give you directions (they do so want to be helpful, you see)...

And what did we get for the 4-and-a-half hour drive? Rain, that's what. Pretty much like driving in a river (no, not beside one - inside one). Now, you have to understand that the busses are like just about everything else in India, not really built to last, but rather more built to blend in with the environment (physically blend, that is). So they reserve the right to fall apart anywhere, anytime. Our window decided to exercise that right, once the rain started. One more thing you have to know, in order to get the picture, is that the windows aren't really there. There are the square openings in the wall of the bus, but there's no glass to cover it. You get the full benefit of the fresh air. And there is a little accordion-like rubber sheet attached to the top of this window, that is held by a couple of braces which you move aside in order to unfold the rubber covering in the case of rain. Only the rain does not necessarily know that this covering is meant to keep it out, so it comes in anyway. Wasn't I lucky that my friend was sitting by the window and not me?

Well, now we've dried out, and we're looking around for another bus to take us farther into the mountains, so that I will stop complaining about the heat. Next time you will hopefully be hearing from a colder me.