So, I did survive the flight over

...and I've been in India for about a month now, since the time of that last post. As expected, the process has been full of discovery, frustration, self reflection and love. A far and well loved old long lost friend from home has put the bug in me to update you; unfortunately this post will just be the bare essentials and some photos, though, more stories (myths etc. ) will be coming as they unfold. I simply can't update you on everything, but if I don't feel like I'm too behind after this post then I'll keep you updated and fill in the holes as they arrive.

The Bare Bones:

-All the food is approximately one quarter spice by weight. In the mornings tamils eat fermented rice patties (idli) with curried vegtables, chutney, sambars and the stunted little bananas above the equator... I guess breakfast is the best way to start adressing India.

-Everywhere the air has the distinct smell of burning peat, which I learned well in Ireland and have only experienced in fine pipe tobaccos in the states. Here it comes from burning cow shit; gods excretions. Cows are skinny, infertile and live of off trash from the streets. They basically function to clean up organic waste and produce Indias most useful fuel. I've learned since my arrival that dung is also used as a kind of brillo pad; it shines metal, keeps plastic clean and dries into a pretty sturdy frisbee...its also everywhere. If you walk anywhere at night you better have closed toe shoes. Some of the really old-school Indians still use it as an antiseptic.

-India has stray cows. In the cites, in the country, in the forests, on the sidewalks, in restaurants, sleeping on your cot, cows rule. Imagine steroid babies five feet tall, too big to help, too holy to control, and too calm to run away from traffic. Most car accidents (Indians are the best drivers in the world, no sarcasm) involve orthodox Hindu drivers trying to dodge cows. We've found that the best way to cross a busy intersection is to stride beside a passing cow and spin th eheads of the passing drivers. They eat most of the trash; there's a free governmental service of vets that delve into their innards fishing for swallowed plastic bags.

-I got a coconut from a lady on the street, who had a perfectly stacked pyramid of them and a machete. In two hacks she perfectly lopped off the top and with the thirdt shep popped into the cocnut, whose water gushed out like a pop can. She handed the nut and a straw for the lightest sweetness and natural boost that only a fresh treefruit can offer. After I finished the drink I handed her the nut again; this time she hacked it in half with another two deft strokes and cut a perfectly symmetrical, curved spoon in a third quick hack. The fresh meat is more of a jelly, the consistancy of raw oysters. Snack and a show for 10 rupees - 2 cents.

-Full of Contradictions

- My program is based in a place called Auroville. This place doesn't really make any sense and prides itself in that fact. Basically, its a gigantic intentional community that sprang out of the Sri Aurobindo ashram in nearby Pondicherry (anyone who read the life of Pi, I've been to the restaurant in Pondy that the book is narrated from). Aurobindo's consort, a Jewish French woman known in thes parts only as "The Mother," had a dream about a place where the virtue of human unity could come to its full fruition, and a laboratory of spiritual evolution (The crux of Aurobindo's message) could be set up. After purchasing thousands of acres of government desert wasteland in one of hottest, driest parts of the Indian subcontinent, Auroville was born. It takes the contradictions and problems and nonsensical diversity of India and injects strange Europeans potions, including the elixir of tourism and the white dollar. It was hewn out of the dust by droves of determined hippies in loincloths. I've been here for five weeks and have only questions; Auroville is no one thing.

-My program is focussed on sustainability in this environment, community development and living, and the philosophical framework of Integral studies. I lve with 9 other students, 3 faculty, and 2 of the faculties significant others. I work at a bamboo workshop, harvesting, prepping, processing and building with raw bamboo. India's tool is the machete. Mine, so far, has been the pen.

I think that's good for now.

Vannakam - all good wishes