Why to wear Salwar Kameez or a Sari?

One thing I like about going to India is, that I see all this wonderful colors the women are wearing. Blue and Pink together, yellow and firy red. All the colours of the rainbow walking down the streets.

Soon I’ll be there and can wear those light materials, those colors myself and I can walk down the streets with the colours of the rainbow.

Sometimes I think if I really can wear the dresses? Is it the way you do, when you are a tourist? Is it appreciated when you walk in the same rainbow colours dress like everyone? or should you just stick to your t-shirt, jeans, shorts and skirts?

Well I do care a little what the people think. But so far I didn’t experience negative comments or looks and I couldn’t imagine a more comfortable dress then a Salwar Kameez in the heat of Chennai.

And why should you wear a Sari or a Salwar Kameez? Because you like to do so, because you feel comfortable. nothing more, nothing less.

Yours, Aylena

the beauty of India

I live like a tourist in India. I am in fact only a tourist. I may be one with a more insight look but still I am only a visitor. As a visitor do I see the whole picture? No. Am I able to really answer why I like India? No. Once in India I got ask why I like India, since India is no good. I couldn’t answer this question that time and still after few years past I can’t. It is because I’m just a visitor. I merely scratched little bit on the surface and I’m still far away to really see everything of this land.

The more I travel the more I read the more I learn about India. I see the good and the bad, but mostly I keep my focus on the good and positive things. I don’t see how the life really is. I can merely guess it. I’m just a visitor. I see where you buy your food, your clothes, how you go to the movie, sometimes I see how you cook your food and how you get your clothes ironed from the ironing lady at the front door. But I don’t see how you earn your money, how you receive your salary, how much you pay for your rent, how much of your salary you have to pay for your food, how you can vote and how your daily life is from day to day, month to month year after year. I’m just a visitor.

I see the beauty. I experience only the pleasure and the leisure, because I’m a guest, a visitor. And I can’t wait when I can visit India again.

 

love, Aylena

Dreaming of India and what I all will do

It’s been too long for me, since I’ve been in India. To long to be in the land you either love or hate. Too long I flown 10 hours or more.  I’m allready planning, what I will and could and can do when it’s finally time again for me to travel to India.

♥ eating Dosa, specific Masala Dosa ( My all time favorite dish)

♥ eating Tandoori Chicken with a cold beer ( perfect bliss)

♥  drinking Mango Lassi

♥ eating a mango (mmmhhhh never had a better Mango then in India)

-> It’s alot about the food

♥ driving with an Autorishkaw through the crazy traffic

♥ driving on the bike and hugging my love (pure joy)

♥ walking down the Marina beach, hearing the waves and the laughter of everyone dancing with the waves

♥ eating Baji at the beach (Fried vegetables)

♥ going for a movie

♥ going for a party and be stunned about everyone is dancing

♥ and all the little daily taskes wich seem to be so outofplace when I’m back in Switzerland and so normal being in Chennai

☼ Maybe I go to the Chennai Open (tennis)

☼ Maybe I watch a Cricket Match (would be about time, that I see one)

☼ Would also like to play Carrom again and see people playing Kabbadi

☼ drinnking alot of Chai, Chai, Chai

☼ Maybe we travell to the north or more down to the south

☼ Doing alot of shopping

☼ Discovering new Places

Oh I can’t wait, but have to be patience for some more months and weeks.

Yours, Aylena

my first motorcycle ride – or should I call it me on the bike?

It is now almost exactly four years ago when I was the first time in India. Currently I am sitting in my home and wonder when I’ll travel again to India. That’s when I discovered photos from my first trip. I was in Chennai and it was so hot. I remember it so clearly. So hot that, when I stepped out of the hotel rooms, everywhere the sweat was running down my body. But well, I don’t want to tell you about my beads of sweat but from my first motorcycle ride. When I think of driving a motorcycle here in my hometown, then I think of helmet, kidney belt, leather clothing, sturdy shoes and everything which could alleviate some of the fall. When I see the motorcycle driving in India, I see flip-flops, with rarely a helmet on the head, sometimes a helmet on the handlebars, shirt, t-shirt, salwar kameez, purchases that are transported and whole families find their the place on the motorcycle. And I am in the middle. Back on the bike. I love to ride the motorcycle. Warm wind is blowing through my hair and clothes and I have the best view on the life in general. I can see it all from here and explore the city.

Then we decided to make a trip to Mahabalipuram. We set off on our motorcycle in the early morning. The streets were still empty and we were seeking for the highway to Mahabalipuram. We’ve finally found it, and finally the wind blows against us. We tasted the salt of the sea and felt the air.
There is much traffic was on the road. Before us, behind us, beside us: cars, trucks, motorcycles, autorickshaws, cows, buses, coconut stalls, and life.
Exhausted and happy to have survived this adventure, we arrived at a beautiful beach hotel. Four years later, I will stay again at this hotel, but this time it was only for a short night. We drove then further to the temple site Mahabalipuram and admired  “Krishnas butterball.”

We let the day end with a cocktail at the black deserted beach. Only us, the sea, some crabs, dogs and one beach attendants.

Yours, Aylena

culture shock

One year ago my mother accompanied me for the first time to India. She wanted to see the country that her daughter is always and every time from new enthusiastic about. After a long flight we finally arrived in India and survived the nightly drive to the hotel. In the hotel my first question to my mother was: “How do you like Chennai?” She couldn’t tell me or didn’t she want to tell me? “It’s night, let me see India during the day.” The next day, after breakfast and a first short trip: “How do you like it?” She told me:” Slowly, slowly I start to like it. But yesterday I was shocked and my only thought was, where do you have brought me? But slowly I like it better and better.”

What shocked her so much, that she didn’t like the first sight of Chennai? I was surprised. But what I forgot for a moment was how it was for me when I’ve been the first time in Chennai. Even I had a culture shock. It starts all with the first taxi drive to the hotel. How many times they honk, crossing the red light or almost run over a dog or worse a person who is crossing the street. And then there is all this dust and dirt. And everywhere you see so many people. People are walking, sitting, waiting for something, standing or living on the streets. Whole families will turn their sleeping accommodation on the sidewalk. Always and everywhere you have the sight of how they sleep on thin mats, side by side under light blankets. Here and there a dog lies next to them and the cars and trucks and honking Autorickshaws passing by, but they continue to sleep.

 

I didn’t understand. How can I enjoy my life, how can I go to a restaurant and leave food on my plate, when outside whole families are living on the streets and maybe starving? I asked my boyfriend: “How can you endure the sight of these people in your country without your heart is breaking? Don’t you have all the time a guilty conscience?”I felt how my heart wanted to drown in a guilty conscience and I needed an anchor, some support how I can move around in India with the knowledge that I’m so many thousand times better off than the people on the streets and that I ought to help each and everyone. Even when I didn’t have a job right now and no idea for myself what I’ll do when I’m at home again. My boyfriend told me that I can’t help everyone and that this is India, I have to live with these contradictions and simply must deal with it.

I wish I could write something bigger and more important. But that is India, here the Mercedes will drive, while next to it on the streets the people will live and beg.

 

yours,  Aylena

THE FIRST STEPS

About four years ago, I was the first time in India. I hardly remember the details and now I want to try to describe here my first impression.
My boyfriend and I were on our way to India. He wanted to show me his hometown, Chennai. I remember that I was very excited and I hadn’t slept the night before the flight. Even in flight, I was so full of anticipation that I could not wait to finally end up in India. My first steps in India I put back at the Bombay airport. We had a stopover here on our way to Chennai. Since we had a few hours time to our next flight, we decided to leave the airport building and take a look at Bombay. But that wasn’t as easy as we thought. We could hardly cope with signs and billboards and it took us longer than we thought to find our way out. And there were everywhere so many people. When we asked someone for the way and for some help, then always three or more people surrounded us to listen to our question and to the answer and sometimes the interfered here and there. And then at last everything was clear and we left the building, with the result that we don’t had as much time as we thought and we shouldn’t rush into the city. So we have been walking across the road and went into the first restaurant we saw. Here I had my first Tandoori Chicken. Mmmhhh delicious!

Than somehow we found our flight to Chennai and finally I was here in Chennai.

I only remember the heat and the smell that hit me when I walked out airplane. Let me call it the smell of India.

 

and now the adventure starts,

 

yours, Aylena