March 13. Auroville.

I am not Shakespeare what do you expect? I don’t even, even. Just .. howheea, grrr.. man .. why .. blog has been disappointing lately. And I can’t do anything about it. How can .. a sincere story .. experiences .. the personal account of an incredible journey trying to make the world a better place (slightly, don’t forget slightly). Sorry. It is torture. When I don’t craft my sentences I find them dull, unrhythmic, simple. But when I do I feel them drifting towards a kind of universally approved rhythm, a universal spicyness, complexity, standard. So either I write pure and it reads like detached babble, or I craft them like epitaphs on marble, and get detached from them myself.

Today we visit Auroville, universal city in the making. Nehru has arranged for a car with a driver, and before sunrise we are on the road to Pondicherry. Although we can’t communicate with the driver and miss the opportunity to stop at some interesting sites, we make it to the mysterious Auroville in good shape. It is quite famous and chances are that you have heard about it. In fact, my friend Malia is now working there and we want to pay her a visit. But first we check in at the guesthouse, a wonderful place called Gaia’s Garden on the way to the heart of Auroville, a golden dome containing the biggest crystal on the planet. After we install ourselves in the office room, that is rented out for the price of a normal room (we deal with Dutch), we hire the bicycle of the maid and roll towards the said dome on a sandpath. Most Aurovillians have a motorbike, and we see many of on the way to the solar kitchen, a place where they cook food entirely using solar power. We meet Malia there and have lunch in a canteen-like restaurant where shoes and cash are banned. After lunch, Malia has to go – to Tiruvannamalai! We decide to meet her tomorrow afternoon and show her the orphan home where we are staying.
We hang out in Auroville and try to get the feel of this lifestyle. Sure, you should stay here at least a few weeks on the farm to get the idea, but we have other plans. Still, we can judge it is a pretty nice place that treats you well if you come there with the right mind. If we walk back to the guesthouse the roaring of the motorbikes is too much.

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Kamiel Choi

Dutch philosopher and poet, sometimes sharing thoughts on the internet.

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