If you ever wondered what happens in Auroville at 4:30 am, then here’s a quick breakdown: pitch-black darkness and quiet. But then the soundtrack kicks in: dogs barking and perfectly-audible chanting from the village nearby. Nothing to worry about, you just have to twist and turn in your bed for a couple of hours until the sun rises. Then you can either stare at the ceiling or, if you’re lucky enough to live in the International Pavilion, you can go up in the tree-house and treat yourself to some early morning reading. The only downside is that you have to re-read the same sentence over and over again, because you can easily be distracted by the beauty of nature waking up.

When alone-time “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wake up my roommates at 6 am” ends, group activities start. Yoga is number one on the list. Our yoga session accomplished two main goals: relieving the post-travel tenseness and helping us discover muscles we didn’t even know existed in our bodies.

The day continued with an info-sesh that combined cultural trivia with more serious stuff. I won’t go through the innumerable fun India facts and fascinatingly complex mythology, because hey, we are more than tourists, we are here to do an important job and we should focus on that. Today we learned about our role and the purposes of the practicum: it’s all about gaining work experience within an academic frame. But there are millions of questions that we are not able to answer yet. The key word is sustainability and all our thoughts are supposed to revolve around it. There are a lot of “how’s” involved in the equation, but there wasn’t enough time to ponder the information because we had to get going.

Hello Pondicherry, hello madness, hello “how the hell do I cross the street without getting killed”. We also had our first NGO visit: Sahodaran Community Health Oriented Development Society. Ganesh gave us a very comprehensive overview of the organization: they help members of homosexual and transgender communities in any way possible. Discrimination of these groups is highly encouraged by cultural practices but also by Indian laws, so besides the advocacy involvement, this organization provides a safe haven for anyone who seeks it. There are numerous services available, such as doctors, counselors reachable in person or via phone, but most important a hang-out area to do anything, be it watching TV or dressing in drag.

It was soon time for touristy stuff in Pondicherry. We had a choice between visiting the temple and shopping in the market. Besides providing a moment of total culture shock, the temple proves that mixing religion with business isn’t necessarily a bad idea. The welcoming committee is an elephant offering its blessing by placing its trunk on your head (for a small fee, of course). As connoisseurs of local culture, we take our shoes off before entering only to have them kicked out of the way by a very angry young little boy. We can’t just leave them there, we have to give them to him and pay for the service. The main event arrives: we finally enter the temple. As beautiful as it is, it’s equally overwhelming: an explosion of colors and constant hustle. There are pictures of deities all over the walls, people praying and the exit is through the gift shop. Next stop: the burial place of Auroville’s emblem: the Mother. This time the shoe deposit service is free and the interior is much calmer. We went through the vivid garden until we reached the central area where we found a beautiful tomb decorated with fresh flowers surrounded by people mediating.

The day came to an end with a walk along the promenade. We saw the ocean, we enjoyed the sound of the waves and we rewarded ourselves with a break at a nice terrace. Hello India, hello all types of learning, hello tomorrow’s new adventure.

Sorana Ionascu

by Deborah First-Quao

As soon as we got out of the airport it was clear that we were no longer in Paris anymore, simply by the way each car that surrounded our bus honked incessantly. But the noise was very worth it because it kept us awake  long enough to witness some of the most beautiful and rare collaboration of man and nature’s workmanship.

The Mahabalipuram Monuments in Tamil Nadu  are listed on UNESCO’s list of World Heritage sites. They go way back to the  7th century. They are a masterpiece, each  mountain being carved out to represent significant scenes in the Hindu Religion from time past. But they will continue to live on in my heart, imprinted forever as moving mountains.

What makes them so beautiful and moving to see is the majestic way they stand as an example of how man and nature can work together. This is something so rare, in a world of climate change and global warming which has been caused by man’s particularly egoistic quest to prove his mastery over nature.

But we are always humbled when we see things that we cannot explain or take credit for. For example, not far from the temple sits a big boulder that balances on just a tiny surface of ground. One would think that at any moment it will shake loose and roll down, considering that it is situated precariously on a downward slope. The guide tells us that the god Krishna put this “butter ball” there and it has not moved for centuries, despite earthquakes, cyclones and tsunamis.

This object is humbling to humanity, who cannot compare any art to that which nature creates herself. This lesson in humility was learned by great kings, such as the one whose story the tour guide recounted to us. The carvings on one of the temples tell the story of a great king who had a great empire and owned lots of wealth. He told people that if they made a wish he would surely have the power to grant it. One of the gods disguised himself as a little boy and told the king that he wanted a portion of land that he would measure with only 3 steps. The king granted it and when the day came, the god put one foot on earth and one in the sky and just with that, he had no place left to lay his third step. Looking down at the king he laughed, reminding the king of how much he had promised. The king, understanding his lesson bowed his head, and asked the god to use it as a stepping stone. The god did, driving his head into the ground. The king is known for his great sacrifice and the carvings live on today to remind us all about the vanity of man.

These days, man does not work with nature anymore – he tries to recreate it, manipulate it, force it, but not work with it. Hopefully, this time in India, in all the things we see – from the relentless post card sellers, to the beggar with the monkey in the red dress who does tricks for a penny,  the hoardes of women dressed in red and gold saris, or the leper who waits outside the temple grounds,  the wandering goats, and the jet lagged tourists, we this generation can reflect on this principle of life, so we can make our future truly sustainable.

Christoph Niemann, The New York Times

By Lindsay Hebert

“Just count to 10. It will be over before you know it. Come on, I’ll count with you. Ok…Breathe…One…Two…”

It was over at three.

That was my mom speaking. I am a 26-year-old woman who flew her mother from L.A. to Paris because she had to get a shot.

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We arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport around 9h, met up, then spent at least half an hour in line getting our tickets. We did it in small scattered groups and didn’t have too many problems. The guy at the first class desk started helping economy passengers, but between each passenger he would go off and talk with his colleagues for 5 minutes. Our next stop was waiting over an hour and a half in line for security. There was a strike at French airports that day, which is probably why thigns were so slow. I heard the previous day, at another airport, no flights left until 13h. Our flight left late because of the delays and our connecting flight almost left without us.
We flew Qatar Airlines to India. On the first flight, the stewardess kept forgetting to give part of the meal to myself and the person sitting next to me, though everyone around us got their meals. Both of us also had broken headphones. The person next to me tried to look inside the pouch with magazines on the back of the seat, and the entire pouch came off the seat. On the second flight, I asked for a drink shortly after we got on and didn’t receive it until halfway through the flight a good 2 hours later. My seat tray also slid off the mounting rails. The stewardesses seemed hurried and distracted the entire flight.
We finally arrived in Chennai, India around 3h40. Going through immigration was a bit of a hassle for some people. Sometimes they’d be asked for information other weren’t, or they’d be harassed for simple mistakes like getting the date of arrival one day off because of the changing times. After going to pick up our luggage, we learned one girl’s luggage hadn’t arrived with us. It took a good 2 hours for her and the prof to get everything straightened out. The rest of us congregated, talked, shared snacks, and killed time. We were then told we had to go through customs and wait on the other side, despite people being in the bathroom while everyone else watched their luggage and the one girl still filling out forms and jumping through hoops regarding her lost luggage. We did eventually all pile into a tourist bus and left the airport.

Eyes balls reddened, pulsing tightly against the contradictory cool of the night’s air.  It’s a blustery December night in Paris, as sure as the tides swing, the deadline season brings forth a nocturnal turn amongst the student species. Computer screens flicker over frustrated desks. Coffee rings and cigarette butts punctuate the sedimentary layers of notes, articles, journals and clippings, the metallic light freezing it all in its flustered chaos.  The eyes endure the tight weight of long days (and longer nights) glancing between reams of notes and a stark white rectangle, unrelenting in its alienating glow. Tome after tome, we read. Tip after tap, we type.  India feels like a long way away.