2001 ..6wks-2nd CYCLING TRIP-2,200kms IN SOUTHERN INDIA

---

2001………..6wks-2nd CYCLING TRIP-2,200kms IN SOUTHERN INDIA

Today’s The Day!
Finally after many months of thinking and talking about what must be one of the most researched and planned trips to the mysterious Indian Subcontintinent it’s actually going to happen. I’ve communicated into the ether of cyberspace to people in far off lands and got the lowdown on what to see, what not to see, what smells and tastes to see or more so to avoid, the charms of the people or the scams to be aware of.

I begin my adventure by arriving in Bangalore, one of the smaller cities of
India- a mere 5.2 million people. Bombay, which no longer exists as it is called Mumbai, is 15 million. I haven’t organized anywhere to stay on my arrival at 1.15am. With pushbike boxed and under my arm I will fight off the touts to get a taxi to a place near the train station where I can set off down South to start cycling for the next 8 weeks or so.


Dindigal 5.9.01
"It's about 32 degrees. A breeze makes it pleasant while carrying the smells of India- incense, heated dust, something like shoe polish, smoke, stale urine. Eagles cry overhead, circling in the thermal. Palm fronds rattle, buses beep, loud voices converse, bicycle bells ring, crows craw while feeding their young in the nest below me. I'm on the fourth floor of an Indian hotel- The Sri Venhateshwar Lodge (try saying that when people ask where you are staying) -strangely there, yet not quite there. Looking out. Observing still not part it. Today is a day of adjustment. How does the brain cope with the need to assimilate the sense of one's self in a sea of difference, in chaos.

I keep returning to the window for another affront of that which is to be the familiar for the next 9 weeks on this cycling trip in Southern India. If I am to cope alone I will need to stop seeing what is different and yet I want to hold onto it a bit longer. Looking out of a window, sitting having a meal or a drink allows the luxury of just watching. Not having to converse, to make decisions to SEE the broken pavement, the excrement, the rubbish, the movement of this part of India's 1 billion people- to SEE it and not have to automatically move each step in avoidance.

There are now sounds of fireworks cracking, of drums beating, of electronic beat. I am able to notice another difference in this current sense of separateness from the street.

Tamil Nadu, The land of the Tamils, is often referred to as the cradle of Dravidian culture distinguished by its unique languages, belief systems and customs. It is one of the oldest continuous cultures in existence. And I am here."

5.9.01 Dindigal ( 5.40 pm, getting dark, 35 degrees)
I have just returned from venturing out again on my bike. It is starting to get more familiar- more real. Earlier today after I first assembled Nandi and rode away from the railway station, it was very much like riding into a film set, actors dressed accordingly, doing their part, the atmosphere was thick with the slowness of morning activity- teeth cleaning, bathing, urinating. It all happens on the street. Indian Music often loud and screeching, sometimes mellow, pervaded.

The train journey last night was uneventful, a wallah helping me with my bike, still in its box, onto the train. I was able to have it in the compartment shared with three others. I was tired and quickly went to sleep despite sleeping on a thin plastic mattress with no bedding. I locked my bags to the bed and hoped the others were honest- our compartment door was locked. My silk pillow case & sheet bag added some comfort. Four overhead fans whizzed inches from my top bunk, keeping me cool.

I've never had to put the bike together before- the process is quite simple with quick release fittings. It was a bit trying though as I was still half asleep and felt I was putting on a performance to the 6 or so people watching, fascinated by high technology before their eyes. One asked for the box before I got the first wheel on- how affluent, spoilt and privileged we are.

Very few people speak English-rather only Tamil and not Hindi. Each of the states I am going to have their own distinct language. India has no single national language! The constitution instead recognises 18 official languages, including English. There are over 1600 minor languages and dialects. How India has become the largest democracy in the world is as amazing as its architecture, religion, dancing, art, history and food.

I am in my favourite restaurant right next to where I'm staying. It has white marble-topped tables and floor and has a sense of being clean. The staff are friendly, tolerant and amused by an ignorant Australian who has little idea of the most basic things in life- eating with only the right hand off a banana leaf. The food is excellent and less than $1. My room here is about $3. At this rate my rough budget of $20/ day should be easy- especially as I don’t have transport costs.

Yesterday was a day of establishing routines, familiarities. It has a feeling of obsessive/ compulsiveness- creating order because I can- because the outside chaos is still unfamiliar and beyond my control. As I venture out into the street to ride around Dindigal I begin to assimilate the squalor and develop an ease and see past it, through it, to the beauty. And Dindigal IS beautiful. It is a photographer’s dream- little cameos of life and colour are everywhere. Buildings are painted in reds, blues, pinks, purples, greens.
It is the process of daily personal ritual which assists in restoring a sense of one's self, the normal. It gives energy to returning outside to traffic, talking to people, to India.

I have found that cycling here is so far less demanding than in Indonesia. People may be surprised to see my hi-tech bike and me but they don't call out excessively or run after me or grab my bike or put demands on me. Because there are so many bikes here plus motorized rickshaws, motorcycles and only a few buses, trucks- the traffic is negotiated fairly easily. Stay calm, follow the person in front, don't stop too quickly, get out of the way of buses honking loudly, expect people and other bikes will just go around you- don't panic!

7.9.01 Dindigal to Palani (60km)
The 4hr, 60 km ride to Palani was somewhat arduous with a headwind and with the weight of my panniers. I think it is perhaps safer on a bike. It's definitely who ever is the biggest gets right of way and they don't seem to even consider cyclists are there when they pull out- you are just expected to give way. I've got so used to the airhorns right in my ear that on one occasion I should have got off the road as it was a continuous blast rather than a 'here I come' blast. He passed me within inches, but a miss is as good as a mile they say.

I am relieved that dogs largely seem to ignore me although two did try and have a go at me- with adrenaline pumping my automatic quick mouth of abuse sent him back a step and I got going. On another occasion I was going up hill & so got off, stood my ground with rocks in hand until they retreated. On the whole I think I shall be OK as long as they don't sneak up on me from behind.

The roads are pretty good- on a bike, as you can generally go around broken bits. They are sealed so far but it still takes its toll- my carrier worked loose as did my light and the gears need some adjustment. Maybe because wherever I leave it, such as at the hotel, when I come back someone has played with the gears which maybe stretching the cable when I go to ride off. I've taken to remembering what position they were in and changing them back before I push off.


The temple in Pilani is dedicated to Lord Murugan who is one of Shiva's sons and a popular deity in Southern India. His main role is that of protector which seems strange to me given the story of why he is said to reside here after fleeing from his family in frustration. Apparently his mother, Shiva's consort, set a task for him and his brother Ganesh to travel around the Universe. The first to do so would get a golden Mango. With parallel to stories in the Bible he sets off with good intentions on his trusty peacock around the world only to find that his elephant headed brother had beaten him by understanding the lesson. He had merely bowed and walked around his mother proclaiming 'You dear Mother, are my Universe'. Ain't it the way.
The temple has very much the feel of being at the sideshows of the bizarre. One man was being rolled along around the temple, shoulder bleeding, another area was signed 'for ear boring'. This is where you go to have your ear pierced- no anaesthetic of course. One little girl was in tears as they started on his second ear. The proud family was trying to calm her down with a banana. I saw her later walking in hand with her brother happy as anything, probably feeling much supported and loved and important for the day. Many people had baldheads covered with yellow sandal paste, having had them shaved as an act of humility. The temple gets money, of course, by selling it at the bottom of the steps. I felt that I had really arrived when a man and a woman put yellow and red paste on my forehead and forearms. I was given two skewers/tridents called a trishool. It is what Shiva holds. I would have liked to keep them to use at home but they were passed over my head 3 times and put into a cage with some deity in it.
The temple is a bit like one of those caged areas for children at the sideshow where you walk through balls, funny rubber bars etc. They get over 200,000 for a main festival here in Jan. so I guess they need to herd them through. Waiting in line like sheep going through a dip, I followed the others, putting my hands to a flame and was then given some white powder, which I promptly got rid of when I could. The parallels of ritual in religion with say communion, is interesting. The main difference, however, that I see is that Hinduism has no single founder, no church hierarchy and no central authority. Compare that with the power and authority and I think destructiveness at times of that 'man in the dress' that they keep wheeling around all over the world until he finally dies.

---