Forget MKR... PRC is where it is at!!!

It’s been two weeks since I arrived in China, and I am only just catching up with my blog! I had very mixed feelings about heading to China, from what had (scarily!) become so comfortable and familiar in India and Nepal, and with a few bad reviews from travellers I had met along the way, I wasn’t sure China was going to be the place for me. However, I have been absolutely blown away by the friendly, caring and genuine people I have met, the experiences I have had, and the many things I have learnt along the way. As the two most highly populated countries in the world, there are definite similarities between India and China, however at the same time, the two countries couldn’t possibly be more different if they tried! China isn’t perfect (for starters, facebook and my blog have been censored by the government!), and there have been countless times when I have questioned my own travels here, questioned the ‘history’ I have read or been told, and countless times I have found myself looking around, wondering if I am the only person to think the latest fact I have been told is actually as disturbing as it sounds, while it is talked up as a fantastic, positive tourism-attracting opportunity. However, while the people may not be as ‘friendly’ as those in India, at least I have some freedom to walk the streets without being called ‘my friend’, and being pressured into a shop, and while I find myself constantly being photographed while walking the streets (or handed new-born children at the zoo to have their photo taken with a tall, western tourist… who cares about the Panda’s anyway!), at least I can travel on public transport without being touched and poked, and without old Indian women admiring my height, before yelling out, “so fat!”. Ah, the things India got me used to!

Shanghai

I arrived in Hangzhou (about 2 hours out of Shanghai), sick, exhausted and in desperate need of a shower and a good nights sleep. With accommodation booked in Shanghai for the next few nights, I found myself a shuttle bus (which I was initially concerned drove on the right hand side of the road… until I realised all vehicles in China do!), and settled in for the 2 hour drive through the outskirts of the two cities (even at their quietest, there was still more going on than in and Australian city’s CDB). This first journey, between Hangzhou and Shanghai, was ample time for me to realise the drastic differences between India and China, and the drastic changes I was going to have to make to my spending habits without delay!!! The bus cost $20!!! That’s 10x more than I had paid just days earlier for a bus that took 7 hours!!! Ridiculous – who do these Chinese take me for? The journey (while outrageously expensive) was smooth and incident free, however also turned out to be incredibly boring – with no livestock to share the vehicle, no pushy vendors to sell their wares at bus-stops and traffic lights, no pot-holes or unsealed roads, no chai-masala-urn-carrying-baristas, no rickshaws to cut the bus off on dangerous corners – and no musicians boarding the bus at the most inconvenient times to busk with absolute no talent, ability, or understanding of basic musical knowledge! What was I supposed to do for two hours?

Arriving in Shanghai, I found my way to the subway (a spacious luxury I had almost forgotten), and made my way to my hostel – where I spent the next three days recovering in my bunk – fortressed off from the rest of the cruel world by a barricade of pillows, sleeping bag and a web of mac and iPad cords – my life support system in my time of greatest need!

Clear footpaths... GASP!

Three days after arriving in China, I decided it was time to finally get some sightseeing done, and set out for a day of adventure. I spent the morning wandering the streets and parks of Shanghai, enjoying People’s Square, The Bund and Shanghai Museum, and avoiding the plagues of scamming young students keen to lure unsuspecting tourists into overpriced tea ceremonies and café’s, the groups of Chinese tourists keen to subtly capture a shot of the tall white guy in their group photographs, and the hoards of street artists eager to write my name and country in water on the pavement… only for it to soon evaporate… and make me feel even worse about the money I obviously wasted by purchasing such a strange souvenir opportunity!

That's how you do a
Christmas Tree, Adelaide!!!

With a population greater than the entire population of Australia, Shanghai is a massive, bustling and energetic city. The streets and parks are well organised, planned, and signposted in English, and the roads, footpaths and buildings are clean, modern, and (possibly the greatest shock to me… supplied with 24 hour electricity!). The city is built on the banks of the Huangpu River, with the old city one side, and the relatively new (built on farmland in the mid 1990’s) Pudong district lining the banks of the other. The curve of the river makes the city’s skyline appear to have been built for photos – and the never-ending work of the countless cranes and workmen on construction sites all over the city make it clear that Shanghai does not sleep while there is work to be done. However, wandering the city street, it became clear there is a lot more to the city than big business and construction, and I found myself easily wiling away my afternoons in the small alleyways and markets of the city (Qibao was AMAZING!!!), and the amazing French Concession district – a district Adelaide should (and easily could) work toward recreating, and where (if I was wealthy!) I would still be right now!

The Yellow Crane Tower

From Shanghai, I boarded a fast train to Wuhan, a small city (population is only half that of Australia) in the Hubei province, about 850km inland from Shanghai. I arrived in Wuhan with a great plan – I was going to turn up at my accommodation, meet a huge selection of western tourists wanting to head up-stream through the Three Gorges on the Yangtze River, book a cheap, local, non-English speaking boat together, and spend four glorious nights sailing through some of the worlds most amazing river scenery – completely un-phased by our lack of Mandarin language, and the fact we were on a Chinese river boat. Of course, things never go to plan.

• Issue #1 – Arriving in Wuhan, I was greeted with the train station. Now, I don’t think any words of the English language can possibly sum up the experience of arriving in a Chinese railway station… however I will try. Bedlam. Confusion. Chaos. Crowding. Durrie-smoke-in-you-face. Ridiculous. I have never in my whole life seen so many people in a train station!!! On average, over 4 million passengers catch the train daily in China, and I swear the day I arrived in Wuhan, they had all decided that was the place to be!

• Issue #2 – I only speak English. This hasn’t caused me too many troubles so far, however it turns out that inland China, in a city where you are the only western tourist, and not even the street signs have an English translation, this can be a slight issue. Catching a bus from the station, I then had to find my way to my accommodation – a task which saw me playing all kinds of charade-style games with the locals, who then gave me a range of confident hand gestures as to where I needed to go – from continuing in my current direction, to turning around completely, to turning left at the intersection, and even one woman (who spoke a little bit of English) who suggested perhaps I had already walked past my accommodation but hadn’t seen the sign, as it would no doubt have been placed at a height appropriate to the locals. Thanks love, I’m not that tall!!!

• Issue #3 – Arriving at my accommodation (which had outdoor showers… if only China wasn’t so polluted you could stargaze while in the shower!), I was faced with the biggest issue of my plan so far – I was the only western tourist! Sharing a dorm room with a number of students who were obviously living out of the room for an extended period of time, it quickly became obvious my plan to meet a group of people keen on traveling together was getting less likely by the minute, and I instead decided to focus on seeing what I could of Wuhan in the disgraceful pollution and wet weather, and move on in search of some English speaking company.

I spent two days walking the streets, parks, and tourist sites of Wuhan, learning about the history of the Hubei Province, modern art in China, and how very inconvenient travel is when a city has no metro system, tram lines or busses with English translation or numerical routes. The hostel, while I came across no other western tourists, was a great place to stay, and I enjoyed talking to a number of Chinese students with varying levels of English, and was incredibly lucky to be invited into the kitchen one night, to try my hand at making dumplings, meatballs, and a popular soup which reminded me of dirty dishwater. Yum!

My time in China has been eye-opening to say the least!!! From clean, modern city streets, skyscrapers and underground shopping centres the size of an Adelaide suburb, to ancient temples and architecture which makes the Festival Theatre look modern, China is full of the unexpected. The smells, sounds, sights and excitement of the market stalls, alleyways, and shopping districts, the tourist sites, and the public transport never seem to end, and just when you think you have something sorted out, and you have finally managed to get your head around something, everything changes and you have to begin all over again!

Me and my manly scooter...

I am now two weeks into my time in China, and feel it is definitely time to finish sharing my adventures from India! China has been a great experience so far – I have been incredibly lucky to meet some absolutely amazing people, on a range of trips and adventures, for reasons ranging from a short trip away from work, to years of backpacking in an attempt to escape the monotony and boredom of everyday life back home. The weather is getting colder the further north I head, and this morning I am writing from a McDonalds restaurant in Beijing – I travelled overnight and attempted to catch the subway to my hostel – however it turns out when you are over 6ft tall, broader than three Chinese commuters put together, and carrying a large backpack, the crush of peak hour pedestrians is not the easiest or most accommodating of places to be!

Kerala - "God's Own Country"

Leaving Auroville, I spent a day enjoying the French provincial architecture and parks of Puducherry (formerly Pondicherry), before boarding an over-night bus to Kerala, a coastal state in southwest India, and very highly promoted as ‘God’s Own Country’ – which after 6 weeks in the pollution, over-crowding and poverty of India, was a marketing strategy I was going to wait to see to believe.

Varkala Beach

My first stop in Kerala was Varkala, a budget tourist beach resort, set high on a cliff overlooking the black and grey sands of the beach below. The resort precariously follows the shape of the cliff, and is lined with dozens of similar restaurants, serving a range of sensational Indian foods, and some downright terrible attempts at western dishes. I spent hours people-watching, and quite quickly realised that a typical day in the life of a Varkala tourist consists of waking up mid-morning, hung-over and peeling from previous days of sunburn, before sitting down without any sun protection, in the full sun, outside a restaurant to watch the world go by, and ease the hangover with a greasy late-breakfast and fresh orange juice. With the greasy breakfast now devoured, the typically overweight-yet-still-wearing-budgie-smugglers-or-bikinis-in-public tourists then wander the many shops and market-stalls (still dressed in their revealing-best!), on the look out for yet another cheap, loud, and revealing shirt or sarong in which to wear on the beach in the afternoon’s full sun. Failing to find something hideous or inappropriate enough for public view, the typical Varkala tourist then drops back into their accommodation to re-apply copious amounts of tanning lotion, re-grease their greying mullet, collect their bug-eyed sunglasses in order to achieve the prefect facial-tan-line, and then head down to the blistering hot sand, in the middle of the scorching heat of the day, to sunbake for the afternoon, while their under-paid hired waiters run up and down the steps to the beach, fetching food, drinks, and no doubt more hair-grease in which to maintain the tourists image for the afternoon. Following an afternoon of dermatological-murder, with skin peeling in the same pattern as a Woolworths tiger loaf, the typical tourist then heads back up the cliff, to relieve their incredibly dehydrated and burnt bodies with excessive consumption of Kingfisher beer or cheap spirits, before settling into yet another restaurant to watch the sunset, tuck into an excessively sized dinner banquet, before ending the night with a few more beers to rehydrate their bodies ready for the same treatment tomorrow. As you can tell, I fit right in!

Trashy, middle-aged, overweight, bogan tourists aside, I did actually have a great time in Varkala. On realising I was probably not going to enjoy three days spent lazing around the resort, I hired yet another motorbike (okay, it was actually a scooter this time, but that doesn’t sound as hardcore!), and went in search of the real Kerala. Riding just two hours out of town, I began to realise why Kerala is called ‘God’s Own Country’, as the hustle, pollution and tourism of Varkala opened up into some of the most untouched, beautiful scenery I had seen in India. White, pristine beaches stretched as far as the eye could see, broken up every now and then with yet another palm-tree lined canal or waterway snaking it’s way to the ocean. The coast was scattered with small, quaint fishing communities, with canoes and boats upturned on the pollution-free sand (I know, I couldn’t even believe it myself!), and tree after tree of hand woven fishing nets, hanging down to dry, as the days catch was left to dry in the sun below. As I rode through communities sometimes consisting of just a couple of weathered structures, faded in the blistering sun, I was greeted by countless fishermen and locals – seemingly oblivious to the fact I was a tourist – with a wave, a local greeting and a smile. This wasn’t the India I was used to!

Blown away by the beauty of the Kerala backwaters, the friendly, kind and caring locals, and the dramatic contrast between the beach resort in which I was staying, and the local communities just kilometres down the road, I thought my adventures couldn’t get any better. Then school finished. Throughout my travels in both India and Nepal, I had been incredibly impressed with the immaculate dress, behaviour and attitude of all the school students I had come across (a great difference to the public behaviour of students back in Australia!) however what happened next, on my manly, butch scooter in a small town I don’t even know the name of, was truly unforgettable. Riding leisurely into the town – the main street following the path of one of the magnificent tree-lined backwaters – I was greeted by a street filled with 100 or so parents and students, obviously walking home from the local school. As I got closer to the group, I was quite amused when a couple of students who had seen me, stepped out onto the road, with their hands out ready for a high five. Of course, not wanting to disappoint these kids, and feeling relatively confident at taking one hand off the handlebars, I reached out and gave the kids a high five, much to their obvious delight, and quite loud cheering. Not surprisingly, this cheering attracted the attention of the rest of the group, and within seconds, I found myself faced with a whole street of children, holding their hands out into the street, as their parents watched on with a look of great excitement. By this stage more confident at riding one-handed, I rode the entire stretch of the main street, high fiving countless kids as I went, followed the whole way by shouts and cheers from the students, and sporting a smile broader than I thought possible.

The Kerala Backwaters

Just out of town...

I spent three nights in Varkala, riding my scooter for a couple of hours each day out into the countryside, and walking the beach and resort at night time (where I unexpectedly bumped into the famed Harriet from Hahndorf!). I don’t know what I was expecting from a beach resort in a country where a woman cannot show her shoulder without being chastised by her community, let alone wear a bathing suit, and where the local police have to patrol the beach to stop local men participating in lewd acts while watching female tourists walk the beach below… but I do know what I ended up with. I ended up with an adventure into towns and communities where tourists rarely go, where I was warmly welcomed because I was a human being, and not because of the tourist dollar in my pocket, and most importantly, I ended up with an unforgettable few days amongst some of the most beautiful scenery the world has to offer. I spent hours wishing more tourists would make the effort to hire a bike and see some of what Kerala really has to offer (I only bumped into two tourists in my three days of exploring), yet I spent an equal amount of time realising my experience was only magical because the people and places I went were not filled with the typical tourist crowd.

Jeeping it on the look out
for a Tiger!

From Varkala, I headed toward the mountains, stopping overnight in Alleppey to explore the backwaters in a canoe, before making my through rolling hills, filled with rubber and tea plantations, to Kumily – a bustling town on the edge of the Periyar National Park. The Periyar National Park is famous for its booming wild tiger and elephant populations, and as I have since discovered, is almost as famous for the boat tragedy which claimed 45 tourists lives in 2009 – a fact they didn’t happen to mention when I was booking my boat trip inside the park! I spent my first day walking the breath-taking tea and spice plantations of the region, learning about the importance and many uses of spices and tea as herbal medicines in Indian culture. I booked myself on a sensational tour at a local plantation, and was enthralled with all the uses of the spices, however promptly forgot everything the second I stepped out of the gate! With limited time in Kumily, and minimal information in the Lonely Planet guide, I booked a wildlife tour through my guest house, and woke the next morning at 4.30am to head into the jungle in a Jeep – a rather cold journey at this time of the morning in the Indian mountains, but an interesting journey nonetheless, as the driver turned up the music, and we drove through the morning fog with Backstreet Boys, Enrique and Shakira blasting through the speakers. I met some brilliant, interesting people in the Jeep, however the tour was terrible, and has to be the most disappointing days of my time in India. We saw 3 monkeys, a bison, and a lot of ‘elephant footprints’, which looked to me like squashed leaves. I understand seeing animals in the wild is very much luck of the draw, however the rest of the tour was a joke – we spent hours filling time between boring activities, and to top it off, the day was probably the most expensive of my travels to date. Remind me not to do that one again!!!

I took a ride in a Ferrari!!!

Heading back down from the mountains (a 180km trip which took seven hours!), I made my way to Fort Kochi (formerly Cochin), a small fishing village occupied by the Portuguese in the 16^th century, and now a busy tourist town, set on the banks of one of Kerala’s many polluted waterways. My last couple of days in India were spent strolling the streets and shops of the fort (I bought too much and had to ship it home!), watching local fishermen use ancient shore-based counterweighted Chinese fishing nets, to hoist their daily catch from the murky, polluted water of Kochi’s rivers, and spent my last day contracting a rather unpleasant bout of ‘Delhi Belly’ – which I was then fortunate to be able to carry with me on my next 13 hours of flights, and the 12 hour stopover at KL low cost terminal – more a garden shed with filthy tiled floor than what I would usually refer to as a terminal. As you can imagine, a pleasant journey to China!

   

Statistics are so much fun!

I’ve spoilt myself! Today’s blog entry should take on a more relaxed, ‘less likely to be robbed at any stage’ feel, and my Mac screen should also enjoy this passive smoking free – and therefore cough and spit-free – entry greatly, as I am currently smoothly speeding through the north of China, smoke and pollution free (this carriage actually has windows and relatively clean air!!!) on a first-class high-speed sleeper train from Xi’an to Beijing. Unfortunately I am paying for this kind of luxury – the hard sleeper trains were all sold out – however it is a nice change from the typical backpacker transport of India, Nepal and China.

Tuesday marked two months of travel, and as I continue to head north (toward -30° weather in Mongolia!), I think I am finally beginning to realise what an adventure I have managed to get myself into – I am only ⅙ of the way through my journey, yet I feel I have learnt more, and experienced more than I should be entitled to in a lifetime! The people I have met along the way, the opportunities and experiences I have had, and the impact these have had on my life make me feel incredibly lucky, yet make me realise how much my life will change in a year abroad, and how much of a challenge I face next January, when I have to face reality, and head back to life in Australia. I have spent countless hours standing in front of tourist sites, natural wonders, and even the mundane moments of everyday life in a foreign country, and found myself wishing there was some way I could capture the beauty, magnificence and true essence of travel, and somehow find a way to capture this, and take it home to share. Unfortunately, I have realised that no matter how impressive the megapixels on my camera, how many facebook statuses I make, and how much I talk and type, there never will be a way to accurately share my experiences with those at home – however, I do thank you all for reading this blog, and sharing in my travels so far!

This week also marks another milestone in my travels, as this blog has reached 3000 page views since I left home! I have made some small changes to the format as I have worked out what works, and what doesn’t work in the world of blogging (a world I have never entered before!), and have hopefully come up with a blog that is at least somewhat user-friendly. Let me know if you disagree! I will continue to change the background and colour scheme as I make my way through different countries, however other than these cosmetic changes, things should stay the same.

I have decided this is also a good opportunity to share some statistics about the blog, which I am lucky enough to be able to view along the way, and I have certainly found interesting to keep an eye on! Please note, my own access of this blog is NOT recorded in any of these statistics, so they should be a fair indication of who is dropping in to say hi.

Total page views to 22.03.12

3002   views

Total word count to date 22.03.12

20156   words

Page views by country (Top 10)

Australia – 2138 (71.0%)

United States – 317 (10.0%)

India – 170  (6.0%)

United Kingdom – 97  (3.0%)

New Zealand – 66  (2.2%)

Germany – 38  (1.3%)

Nepal – 36  (1.2%)

Malaysia – 28  (0.9%)

Russia – 20  (0.5%)

Turkey – 13  (0.4%)

Page views by browser (Top 5)

Internet Explorer – 929   (31%)

Safari – 850   (28%)

Google Chrome – 513   (17%)

Firefox – 328   (10%)

Mobile Safari – 277    (9%)

Page views by operating system (Top 5)

Windows – 1559   (54%)

Mac – 609   (21%)

Android – 283    (9%)

iPad – 182    (6%)

iPhone – 167    (5%)

Page views by blog entry (Top 3)

I love my Mum… bai!

235 views

“It feels the same… it’s just yours is so funny looking!”

201 views

It’s not about the money, money, money!

144 views

Auroville - A youth that never ages.

I write this morning from a brand new, clean, smooth and comfortable high-speed train, hurtling at around 240km/hr between Shanghai and Wuhan, China. Quite the change from the public transport of India!!! In fact, my time in China has been a DRASTIC change from my time in India and Nepal, with clean, livestock free roads and footpaths, an extensive and fast public transport network, functioning waste disposal system, closed sewers, and a noticeable lack of rickshaw drivers and taxi drivers trying to rip me off on every street corner. To top things off… my hostel even had hot water… and a REAL PILLOW!!! But, more on China in a later post, there’s still plenty more of my adventure in India we are yet to cover...

Being a budget conscious traveller (and just cheap and nasty), I was thrilled when Anna and Rasmus told me they were heading to Auroville on my last day with them, and I was welcome to join them for the drive. Auroville (which I had never heard of, nor planned to travel to until they mentioned it!) is a township located about 25km out of Puducherry (formerly Pondicherry), near the east coast of India. According to the Auroville guide…

"Auroville wants to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity."

A round-about... with  a car!

Sounded interesting, if nothing else. Driving into Auroville, my first impression (after I had managed to get over the shock there was no litter on the streets!) was I had just found my way into some weird hippy cult. I found myself in a town located amongst a recently cyclone ravaged strip of vegetation, almost cut off from the outside world, where western ‘hippies’ and ‘tree-people’ rode motorbikes in thongs (that’s the shoe-form of thong, thank goodness!), wore felt and cheesecloth clothing (after the favoured hessian of course!), and children ran barefoot through the paddocks, flying kites and hunting for bugs to pass the time. Even more startling to me was the centre of the town, where a large, flattened gold golf ball was apparently the town temple, attracting stares, camera lenses and hoards of tourists, while the nearby tourist information centre sold hand-made writing paper, India’s version of gum-nut earrings, and organic ice-creams in flavours like butter-scotch jaggery and honey guava. Where on Earth was I?

The Matrimandir

Set up in 1968 by a French woman and an Indian man (who had completed his studies in Europe), the initial settlement of Auroville consisted of people from 124 different nations, with the significance of this ‘global community’ celebrated with a handful of soil from each of these nations being placed in a large urn, which is now the central focal point of the amphitheatre I was later luckily enough to get to experience. With the creation of this new community, came the creation of a community charter, which outlines the vision and direction of Auroville, as a community for all human people.

1. Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. 
Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. 
But to live in Auroville, one must be a willing servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, 
of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
3. Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future. Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within, Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual Human Unity.

At the centre of the township is the round ‘peace area’, which includes the large amphitheatre, a massive, beautiful banyan tree, a range of yet-to-be-completed gardens, and a huge, gold-golf-ball looking structure, called the Matrimandir. In Sanskrit, this translates to Temple of The Mother, however the temple itself has no religious connection, but is rather a place of personal spiritual significance. The building is undoubtedly unique – taking 37 years to complete – is covered by over 1415 gold disks, and is surrounded by 12 ‘petals’, or meditation rooms, each dedicated to one of the ideas the people of Auroville strive toward – existence, consciousness, bliss, light, life, power, wealth, utility, progress, youth, harmony and perfection. As the development of the peace area continues, these petals will then continue outward, into gardens, with one flower dedicated to each of these 12 ideas, and eventually a body of water, which will surround the whole area. Beneath the huge suspended ‘golf-ball’, a lotus flower shaped fountain gently flows toward a central beam of sunlight, seen throughout the inside of the structure.

Although it has a tourist information centre, Auroville is not really set up as a tourist destination, and the Matrimandir is not open to the general public. However, it turns out I am rather lucky, and because Anna and Rasmus knew a couple of people in Auroville who were with us, I was with ‘locals’, and therefore I was allowed inside! Some people wait for weeks, and travel great distances for an invite inside, yet there I was, having only heard of Auroville the day before, walking straight past the hoards of unhappy tourists enjoying their view from a distance outside, straight into this amazing, one-of-a-kind structure. On entering, we were asked to leave our shoes outside, were each given a pair of ‘risky-business’ socks, and walked in silence, with no idea of what might lay ahead.

Inside the structure is like something completely from another planet! Staircases lead from the noise of the outside world, up through the base of the structure to a series of small, white marble rooms with windows overlooking the fountain below. These rooms lead to another set of stairs, cork-screwing up inside the inner chamber of the Matrimandir, into a huge, simplistic and modern round chamber, with pristine white carpeted floors, white marble stonework, opaque, orange glass walls, and small gold channels of water cascading down slanting pillars at intervals around the chamber. A beam of sunlight shines directly down through the centre of the building, as two sweeping, marble and glass ramps curve upward, passing through large marble columns, following the shape of the glowing interior walls, as they make their way higher within the structure. On reaching the top half of the structure, the ramps meet large white doors, leading into the upper chamber of the building. Inside this upper chamber is a 1100kg solid crystal globe, imported from Germany, and the focal point of the beam of light which shines throughout the layers of the building, and the centrepiece of the upper chamber. The interior of the upper chamber is a stark contrast to the orange glow of the chamber below. Everything is white. The walls, carpets, ceiling, columns, doors and floor cushions are all completely white, illuminated only by the glow of the crystal, and the beam of light which shines like a pillar through the centre of the chamber. Evenly spaced around the walls are 72 cushions – individual space in which we sat in silent reflection for half an hour, interrupted only by the occasional cough, reverberated around the circular walls.

From the Matrimandir, Nicole and Saatchi kept us busy for the day, seeing the sights of Auroville (3 of us on each motorbike of course!), answering our endless questions about the Matrimandir, life in India, and the seemingly thrilling everyday lives of the people of this small community. Our afternoon was one I will certainly never forget, as we made a spontaneous visit to ‘Fertile’, an organic farm/community/whatever in the green-belt area surrounding the city – and the owner of this strange place, an ex-pat Aussie called Johnny.

Johnny and his BBQ

If you were to judge a book by it’s cover, Johnny is a well-worn, yellow-paged, creased and crumpled paperback, left out in the elements to weather, deprived of a librarians TLC, and no doubt destined to end up collecting dust on the rickety shelf of the local second hand book store. Once you get Johnny talking however, you discover a craftily written international bestseller, a historical masterpiece, and a modern day drama all wound into one. With captivating history, intertwining plotlines, gripping stories, and one of those irritating endings where you are desperate to find out what happens – Johnny is certainly one of a kind. A self-confessed hippy, Johnny grew up in Sydney, and travelled extensively throughout Australia in the late 1960’s. In 1971, he ‘ran away’ from Australia, found himself in India, set up his amazing green-belt property, and never moved back.

The ‘green-belt’, according to the Auroville plan.

"The city area with a radius of 1.25 km. will be surrounded by a Green Belt of 1.25 km width. As a zone for organic farms, dairies, orchards, forests, and wildlife areas, this belt will act as a barrier against urban encroachment, provide a variety of habitats for wildlife, and serve as a source for food, timber, medicines etc. and as a place for recreation."

‘Fertile’, home to Johnny and anyone else who cares to set up camp at the time, is what Auroville is all about. It’s about working toward creating a better world. As a basic summary, it is an environmentally friendly, organic farm, built through many years of hard work, backbreaking labour, and a desire to create something special from previously abandoned and poorly maintained agricultural land. However, over 40 years after Fertile was created, it is now so much more. Through a focus on returning the land to it’s original condition, the introduction of permaculture and sustainable agriculture, over the last 40 years, the property has been transformed from a barren wasteland, into a developed, dense, ecological wonderland, with organic crops of cashews and millet, an outdoor ‘classroom’ for students of the local school, and an abundance of wildlife living in the now developed and towering trees (including humans!).

The property is accessed by motorbike, along narrow, winding, dirt tracks (rather uncomfortable with 3 of us to a bike!), and is an eclectic mix of buildings, shelters, structures and artwork, all surrounded by the hanging roots of overhead banyan trees, rope swings, tree house ladders and the towering vegetation. There is now a ‘traditional’ house on the property, which we were lucky enough to walk through, and definitely decided Auroville’s idea of traditional is far from that of ours in Australia! The front door of the house is a large, round, wrought iron swinging artwork, through which you find the kitchen – a series of archways, joined together with benches and appliances. The rest of the house continues to amaze, taking open-plan to new levels (there are rooms with whole walls missing!), and a bookcase along the passageway, with shelves that double as the staircase to the level above. Upstairs, all four walls are glass, providing a 360° view of the surrounding green-belt. Amazing! The other ‘buildings’ vary from a quaint, steep-roofed cottage, lined from floor to ceiling with overflowing bookshelves, basic huts built from mud and sticks, tree houses complete with mosquito nets and sharp palm fronds to keep the bats out at night, and the open communal kitchen, a large thatched roofed structure, obviously also a favourite spot for the chickens to hang out during the day.

The Front Door

We spent our afternoon wandering through the property with Johnny, stopping to learn about local plant species, the cashew trees, millet, the importance of an ‘unending education’, and the role all Aurovillians play in making this a reality. Coming from a country where a ‘good education’ is studying from books or Encarta in primary school, wearing a blazer and attending Ignatius in high school, and following it up with a stock-standard degree from a useless University, it was incredibly interesting to compare my own view with that of the people I met in Auroville. One day a week is spent learning on the land, or in the community, and EVERYONE is a teacher. Every single resident I spoke to, among other jobs they may have in the community, explained their job as being a teacher in one way or another – imagine that in Australia, if parents actually held themselves somewhat responsible for their kids education, and the future of the community. Woah! Let’s not get ridiculous here.

My HERO!

My second day in Auroville, I decided to hire a motorbike. I would guess 98% of transport in Auroville is done on bike, and I thought I should probably join the crowd. Asking a kid at the local corner store where I might hire a motorbike on a Sunday, I was rather amused when he opened a window, shouted something upstairs to his dad in Tamil, waited for a reply, then turned to me and said, “You can use one of ours if you like”. Unwilling to use their bike without some sort of payment, and knowing that the usual price in India is around 350 rupee/day (exl fuel), I thought I would be generous and offered them 100 rupee ($2). Deal – and he filled it up with fuel for me!!! Now, this was not just any motorbike – it was a Honda Hero. My Hero. With the man’s whole family now standing outside the house wishing me well, and me having not ridden a motorbike since I was probably about 12 years old, the pressure was on me not to stuff up too badly! Climbing on, trying desperately to remember what does what, and when it does it, I managed to find neutral, kick start the engine… and my hero roared into life! Struggling to actually fit my hiking boots on the foot-rests, let alone change gears, I finally found first gear… and slowly began to rev the engine. Gracefully releasing the clutch… the bike took off perfectly, and I bumped around the corner (no fault of my own – that’s just the roads in India!) to waves and well-wishes from his family, no doubt disappointed not to see a massive white guy stack it on the bitumen. That bike – what a HERO!

I spent the day at Johnny’s place, enjoying a community lunch with people from all walks of life, sitting around an old oil drum he had converted into an ‘Indian BBQ’, before exploring the green belt and beyond with My Hero. Riding along small, narrow paths, weaving through trees and soft sand, and surrounded by some of the thickest vegetation I have seen, it was hard to imagine just 40 years ago the whole space was a barren, agricultural wasteland. It’s amazing what humans can do if we try! As the afternoon continued, I was lucky enough to get yet another dinner invite, this time to a different property in the green-belt, where every Sunday night, a group of locals come together for a community dinner, and a movie. Arriving at the community, I was greeted with the most beautiful, grand building amongst the trees… and this is just the community kitchen!!! Dinner was a joint effort of the 25 or so people there (I supplied a pineapple… what a guy!), and was shared on mismatched crockery, with mismatched cutlery, amongst the mismatched people who had decided to call the community home for the evening. Sitting around the communal dining table, sharing stories of Australia, India, and everything in-between, Johnny mentioned that he had been to Adelaide in 1968, but had experienced a rather different side to the city than he thought I would have seen. Intrigued, I pressed for details, going on to learn the funniest story of his time in the Adelaide Gaol, after he was caught stealing a wedding cake for a friends wedding… he insists the cake-shop window was already broken! After a 10 day stint in remand, he was free to go, having missed the wedding completely, and promptly left the city – without seeing anything else! No wonder the eastern states have such bad opinions of SA, if all they see is the prison!

The food that night was sensational, the conversation was brilliant, and the sense of community was something I wish I could somehow capture and show to plenty of people in my life back home! With dinner and dessert out of the way, a wooden panel beneath the raised building was pulled aside, and in the absolute peace and serenity of the green belt, kilometres from the nearest road, and a whole world away from the hustle and bustle of life at home… was a big flat screen plasma TV! The bean bags were pulled out, the lights were switched off, and somehow, in the middle of India, surrounded by a visiting German family who didn’t speak a word of English, a Korean family who had lived in India for 4 years, an ex-pat criminal Australian, a Parisian journalism student also backpacking through India, and the most welcoming, friendly and caring locals I think I will ever come across, I found myself sprawled out on a bean bag under the stars, watching Red Dog! What a day!

Solar Kitchen Lunch

I spent the next few days as Nicole’s shadow, following her to breakfast, to the shops, to lunch, to work in the afternoon, and then to dinner each night. I became a bit of a stalker, but I just couldn’t help it – everything was so interesting!!! The local ‘grocery store’ is a co-op, with shelves lined with Auroville products, fresh baked German bread (mmmm!) and fresh, organic cheeses, milk, eggs, fruit and veg. Tourists aren’t supposed to go inside (shh!), as you can’t pay for things with cash, you can only charge them to an account you have if you live there. There are tables with pre-ordered boxes and bags overflowing with fresh fruit and veg, which are ordered in kilo lots – and are filled not with specific products, but by whatever was the best selection of products on the local farms that week. If carrots are good, you eat carrots this week, if not, you go without. Next door is the locals ‘op-shop’, which is more of an ‘op-swap’, where rather than paying for the products inside, you just take stuff when you need it, and give stuff when you don’t. Community! To maintain my stalking energy levels, we went to the Solar Kitchen for lunch, which uses a large solar bowl on the roof of the building to capture and concentrate energy from the sun, using it to create steam, and cook the day’s lunch. Each day of the week has a different lunch, and the food was AMAZING – ridiculously expensive at $2 for a HUGE main, bread, dessert and a drink, but somehow I managed! My last dinner in Auroville was spent in yet another community, with me trying my hand at Korean cooking (average effort, however I did exceedingly well at the eating part!), before a 4am wake up to watch the sunrise over a bonfire in the main amphitheatre to celebrate Auroville’s 44^th Birthday.

A random Tiger Bike...
in a tree!

As I am sure you can already tell (if you have made it this far through my rambling!), I was completely blown away by my experience in Auroville, and consider myself incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunities I did have, and to meet the people I did meet along the way. I admire the people of this community for their passion, drive, and approach to their lives, community, and the future of humanity as a whole. While the community and people of Auroville are a unimaginable contrast to myself and the community to which I belong, I was made welcome with open arms, open minds, and a side of humankind I will unfortunately say, I have rarely seen before. I was quick to judge Auroville as a golf-ball worshipping cult, however through the people of this universal town, I walked away with a much greater understanding of human kind, the importance of an unending education, and the value of community in a world where it is so often hard to find. To all the people who welcomed me into their homes, their communities, and the mundane aspects of their everyday lives – THANK YOU! Thank you for your time and your efforts, thank you for not glossing over the issues in your lives and your town, and thank you for making a naïve, non-Korean cooking Australian backpacker feel so welcome… right when he least expected it!

http://www.auroville.org/