The bus and all the beautiful names…

Yesterday was really good. One of the researchers here, my next-door neighbour kindly asked if I wanted to join him on an excursion to a different university - The University of Theology. I accepted, as getting out and about, is fascinating. I asked if it would be a long journey, and he replied that it was kind of far, but acceptable. Starting with a rickshaw outside the gate, we jumped off at the main road and then got on a public bus. My first journey on the bus was a pleasant and long experience. There are reserved seats for women at the front and men at the back of the bus, and separate doors too. Women use the front door to enter and leave, and men use the middle door. This is just the way it is, and it ensures the women a place to sit, I was told.

45 min later we arrived at our stop, after not being able to stop peering out at all the thousands of colourful people outside. Now the hard part began. Now where do we go? The professor is from Bengal and speaks English most of the time, and he has an extremely loud voice, which sometimes seems very offensive to others. This made it hard for him to get what he wanted but eventually after asking about 15 people we found it. Mind you I got it the first time around, but he insisted I was wrong, which I kind just accepted at one point. Strong voice is a bit scary...When we finally arrived, he was 40 minutes late for his meeting, which he could have done over the phone as the lady could not help him at all.

But all in all, the University was one of the prettiest places I have been so far, with a stunning environment and a good mixture of people from all over the world. Very peaceful and tranquil, so defiantly worth the trip...

Heading home we talked about the meaning of names. As I am a visual person I now see what the name means, rather than remembering the names. I have so far met happiness, empowerment, the milky-way, lion, the soft one (Lolita, I recall that one) flower, a thanks to a goddess, and yesterday I met Tunga. She is named after the river I am writing about – the Tungabhadra River. Her father wrote his PHD on the river and thought it was the most beautiful place on earth – so hence the name. I am in love with this tradition and rethinking what I might call my kids…

My stomach is still singing happily and I have made lots of new friends, who are so wonderful and inspirational. The peacefulness is seeping in slowly and the stress from Norway is leaving me alone. Still a bit jetlagged, but that too I hope will ease. Take care and miss you all dearly,
Cheers,
Mai