One day in Hampi. 

 

 

My day in Hampi. 

 

 

A nice day in Hampi.

 

 

A great day in Hampi.

 

 

 

 

The morning starts early. The fresh air coming through the open windows makes me freeze under my poor scarf blanket and wakes me up. An early start. I like it, when a day starts early. But I have to wake up by myself. Nothing is more nasty for me than waking up from an annoying mobile phone alarm. That's so ugly. It remindes me about germany. The alarm was set to remind me doing stuff I had to do. Alarms are in generally nasty. Even more, associated with a necessity to wake up. I like to wake up by myself. Than it doesn't matter how early.

 

A smoke, a coffee and a chill start in the day. I am relaxed and active and get a lot of stuff done. So yes, I had a very good morning. Work on the articles earning money – first thing to do and to check. Successful. While working, some coffees, some smokes and a banana lassie. Sitting in the sun, facing the 'McDonald Ranges' Indias. I am in the Alice of India. I feel happy. I feel good. I am in happy Hampi. Mhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  ... Peace!!!

 

AHHHHHHHHHH 

WHAT'S THAT? WHAT'S HAPPENING? 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

If you have a Brighton. A Brighton in the morning. A Brighton in the evening. A Brighton all day. Than she will make me moving. Moving through Hampi. The whole day! Twice!!! Steph is awake. Steph feels like moving. So lets move. Lets move. Lets go. Go. Go.  .... She might be right. Since we arrived two days ago, we haven't left our Paradise ... physically. I went on a couple of good trips, let my mind wonder, got a couple of stories done. So, I was kind of moving. The mind moves on, while the body stays still. I like it. One of the other extreme of travelling.

 

Steph is right. Time for physical movement. Steph wants to ... ähhhh .... sorry ..... we want to go to the nearby lake. It's an artificial dam, they built in the 90^th to provide the area with electricity. It works well. The lake belongs to the fisherman, boulder jumpers and coconut gondoliers. They look after the lake, keep it clean and make it a nice destination for tourists. They guide the tourists to the safe spots for jumping and swimming and partying, because the lake and its boulder environment is also a place for a lot to come out for a chilled refreshing day, with beers, music, friends and other drugs. Every now and then one of the stone headed travellers overestimates either his intoxication or his swimming skills. As a result just in the last season eight people drowned. A shadow that lays sadly over the happy Hampi town.

 

But let's be happy Hampi and have a walk to the lake then. How fare? ..... Something like 5ks? ...... Where? ..... Just over there and ask. ..... They all guide you the way … and so the story begins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love walking barefoot. So why not in Hampi? Let's start the experiment. Just five kilometres? Ahh, easy! No problems. Why taking shoes with me. Just in case? Unnecessary! I love barefoot. So what? No worries. My feet can handle that bit of walking. Shouldn't be such a big deal. I used to walk every now and then barefoot in Alice. So, why not walking barefoot in the Alice of India? Gedacht - Gesagt - Geamacht ... oder wie war das noch mal veni, vedi, veci? ;-)

 

 

What a brilliant idea!

We went climbing.

We went swimming.

We went rock jumping.

We walked.

 

A loooong way. A very loooong way. … and we walked the loooong way back. It was a very very loooong way back. Worst of all the heat loaded asphalt streets. Hot. Hot. Hot. Towards the end, when the feeds start to become sensitive, every single step is hurtful. As soon as you think for the first moment if your feeds may hurt, they become straight away much more sensitive for upcoming irritations. Unconsciously your body is much more careful with each step. As a result: Conscious pain with each single step. I needed the hard way. I could had have taken my shoes with me, just in case. But, no. Why bothering? It wouldn't be me, if I have had taken shoes with me, or?

 

At the end: I made it. My feeds hate me.

 

 

 

Steph and I had a lovely fun day. Jumping from an apparently six meter high boulder into the clean fresh water of the lake. I think the boulder was just about three meters over the surface level of the water. But, well the locals will know. A delightful jump. For all the spectators, because I jumped like a delicate nixie into the water. For me, because the cool fresh water was really a refreshment. I saw the pictures, Steph took. I wish I hadn't. I am looking like a big … like a big .. like a big PLATSCH!

But gosch this water!!! This pure refreshment. This crystal clear pureness surrounding my body. What a feeling. What a pleasure. How I love the feeling of water around my body. Nice! Haaaaa

 

I tried to climb the big boulder jump. 25M in high. I am not sure about that local measurement either, but for sure those three overlying massive boulders looked quit impressive. Kind of glad, I couldn't made it up the boulders, too weak were my arms and muscles. Our local men 'for a laugh, a good time and everything'-Moses climbed the boulders up like he isn't doing anything else in life (maybe he isn't?), takes a run and jumps: Breast out, knees bent. An elegant jump. Respect. I couldn't made it better. Hahahahaha...

We had a couple of jumps (in the meaning of the english word, because for Germans 'a couple' includes more than just a pair, it means several) at the six metre boulder, before we decided to take a trip with the coconut boat to the other side of the dam. Well, Steph took the ride, I had to swim cross the lake. Maybe three hundred meters in total. A small crossing … and the boat stayed close to me - just in case. Even if I am not drugged, I haven't done a swim like that for a while and there is no need to provoke the universe. Do I have to mention, that our two gondoliers couldn't make it to the other side? Carrying how they are, they wanted to swim next to me, just to realize, that they are pretty good boulder jumpers but average swimmers. I enjoyed my refreshing swim to the other side of the lake. Cold wet water around my whole body. Fresh and pleasant in temperature. So nice. Yeah, but after a while the most pleasant place on earth can feed someone up and we decided hungry and eager to see the sunset to walk back.

 

… and here the disaster begins. My feet were terrible hurting. The concrete hot and charged with the heat of the day. The tiniest sand grain mutated into the most painful and annoying enemies on my way. The way back seemed ages longer. But we made it just in time up the hill for the daily jam and sunset session. .. and here, high on the boulders of happy Hampi, overlooking the wide beautiful landscape shimmering in the changing colours of the setting sun, begins an other story …

 

 

'Where you from?' 'What's your name?' 'You wanna Chai?' … the typical three questions you get asked, if you want to have a pleasant evening on the sunset boulders overlooking happy Hampi. Even well before you actually reach the peak. The Chai Children. That's my name for them. My Chai Children will have different faces and stories than yours. But there are everywhere. In Hampi. In India. In the world. This is one of their stories …

 

You sit on the boulders of Hampi. They are warm, spreading out the stored heat of the day. It is a pleasant feeling on the skin. As above, so below spreads an spectacular landscape, dipped in the glowing orange of the slowly but steady setting sun. From the back the jamming sounds of guitars, drums, flutes and other exotic instruments are floating pass my ear towards the infinity of the red burning horizon.

 

 

It's sunset time in Hampi

 

 

Travel addicts, goal seekers, free spirits – we all gather together on the warm boulders of happy Hampi. The shared spirit is beautiful. Peace and happiness floating with the vibes of the music around all of us. Rice paddies and temples. Purple horizon. Coloured clouds. Fresh air. I am one with the situation. A brilliant fun day is just finishing of for me with this magnificent sunset. I take a deep breath. I close my eyes. I am silent. I am.

 

 

 

 

It's perfect … almost …It's perfect with a coffee, eh, chai, I mean. Possible on the happy Hampi boulders. Underaged children. The oldest maybe eleven. The youngest maybe five. Equipped with flask and thin plastic cups.Walking through the crowd of sunset scenery spectators. 'Sir, Chai, Sir. You wanna Chai?' 'Madam, Chai for you? One cup, madam?' I am one of those spectators – caught in between the romantic fascination of the evening and the arising unease about underaged chai sellers. Well. That's how child labour looks like, isn't it?. Mh. Great. Nice. I am looking around. Getting more and more sucked into their busy float of selling and trading. They are clever those kids. Some of them carry huge modern flasks half their body size. Others carry just a small little tin cattle. One girl. The rest boys. Inequality. Even here. 'Hello my friend. What's your name? 'Where you from? You wanna Chai?` They know their questions. They know their strategy.

 

***

Buying a chai? It would for sure fulfil my comfortableness. Dreaming … having a Chai … feeling the warm boulders … breathing the fresh air … seeing this spectacular wonder of living nature happening in front of me … sipping Chai … AHHHH… heaven on earth! In Hampi!

WAKE UP!!!

***

 

Living my dream is supporting Child labour. Do I really want to support children working in their sunset hours on the boulders of Hampi selling Chai, just to satisfy and life my chai sunset dream? I mean, that's their life. That's how they own their living, feed their families and survive. Hang on … that's a bit too fare down the road. How can I know? I just assume right now. I see working children, fulfilling a labour on a daily basis. Why, I just can guess. What about school? What about education? Is there a need? Those Chai Children learn their life and survival skills while they grow up. Practising. Active. Learning by doing. All what they need for their little bubble of life in the dusty ranges of happy Hampi. There is no adequate comparison to the western understanding of leaning and education possible.

 

Apparently the Chai Children go to school during the day. 'Labour' is reserved for the evening hours. We saw as much children running and playing around on the streets during school hours than we saw dressed in school uniforms returning from school. Hampi has one governmental school, looking urgently and constantly for volunteers, up to grate five. After that, I have no idea what happens. Our Rickshaw driver stayed silent, leaving an open question with an knowing in the air. Not a lot of Hampi children make it to the secondary school anyway. All those become the future boulder jumpers, coconut gondoliers and tourist guides. That's what life is like when you grow up in Hampi. Known as flourishing capital of India in the 14^th century. A sells and trade hotspot for diamonds, sapphires and other precious stones. Known as the birthplace of Hanuman, the monkey god. Our days Hampi is a happy place, run by tourist who want to experiment happy Hampi on weed and mushrooms. The locals react and give whats asked. For them it's simple business and survival. Narrow streets, rough ground, small shops full of touristy stuff, souvenirs and cloth surrounded by ancient boulders. Daily modern life in ancient ruins. The tourist dominate the place. They make Hampi who they want it. The locals react. Oh yeah, is their a need to mention, that those Chai Children following also an other business? They also sell weed to you. 'Good quality, Madam. You wanna try. Good quality.' Or they try with their sneaky fingers quickly to get to your savings. The Chai Children of happy Hampi.

 

 

Alright. So all of it, it's part of their life, than. It's normal – for them. Well. Now. I am part of their life. Sitting on the boulders. Enjoying the sunset. Is it than a supporting gesture or a manifestation of a false moment, having a Chai? I seriously do have troubles on the boulders of happy Hampi … making up my mind.

 

***

The whole situation and my mind pattern made me one more time realize who 'wrong' this whole travel thing feels sometimes for me. Confronted with situations, I have heard and read about before. Being now involved. Paralysed to act. Becoming a constant observer. Not knowing the 'right' and the 'wrong'. How does my action affect? How do situations manifest? How do they change? Those Chai children are troubling me.

***

 

I focus again on the natural spectacle.

The horizon turned purple. The sky glows.

How the light glances over the surface of the earth.

The paddy fields and palm trees are playing their shadow game with the burning bloody red setting sun.