Kundapur

9:07 pm Monday Sept. 5 2011

I have completed the first leg and probably most difficult part of my journey. I landed in Mangalore airport and took a taxi to Kundapur, about two hours away. I tried to soak up my new Indian surroundings as we zipped precariously down the road, but my eyes refused to cooperate with me and stubbornly stayed shut. I arrived at Kundapur around 6 pm, took a shower, and fell asleep. The next day at 11 am my FSL program leader, Daya, picked me up and brought me to another hotel to meet with the rest of the volunteer group. FSL (Field Services and Inter-Cultural Learning) is the partner company that VFP connected me with. I will be in this hotel, Julie-yo International Hotel, for one week. There are various activities planned, including Kannada (the local language) lessons, cultural lessons, visits to schools, and excursions into the city. I have five roommates, all German girls. There is a large group of Germans, a few French, one Mexican, one Japanese, one Dane, one Portuguese and one Canadian. One French girl, Amandine, and one Portuguese girl, Mariena, are coming with me to Hunsur. Both of them have lived in Bethesda, Maryland for the past 11 years with their parents. The world is inexplicably weird sometimes.

One day we went on a guided tour of Kundapur where we got to see the FSL headquarters and rode the bus to the beach. There are lots of small shops, restaurants, etc around the city and I feel very safe walking around, much more so than I did in Costa Rica. Every day we have vegetarian meals with the group, which consists mainly of rice and some vegetables mixed with spicy sauces. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say the food is desirable, mealtime is still highly anticipated because its one of the strongest reminders that my current life is strikingly unrecognizable from my former life. It is strange and oddly rewarding to accept that whatever is on your plate must be consumed without any explanation of its contents. We eat with our hands which is both challenging, especially with rice, and freeing. All of the table manners you were scolded into learning as a child are irrelevant in India. I quite like it. Everyone sits on the floor in camaraderie, despite what language you speak, forming bonds that will sadly have to sever at the end of the week when everyone goes to their separate projects.

Speaking of, I learned more about my project this week. I will not be in an orphanage as expected and at first I was more than a little disappointed. But I am a volunteer and this week has taught me that volunteer is synonymous with flexibility and adaptability. So, instead, I will be teaching basic English to ethnic tribal children. I have no idea what their level is now or exactly what the current volunteer is doing there, but I am excited to be a part of it. The FSL leaders just bought a house for the 7 volunteers in my area. Most volunteers live with host families so we are unique in this sense. As enriching as it would be to live with an Indian family, I’m looking forward to having a little more more privacy and freedom.

the whole volunteer group

henna

school in Kundapur