Bangalore. Garden city.

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I'm staying in 5 star hotel - in Lizzy's fabulous apartment. There are terraces everywhere and I am surrounded by art and pretty things and most of all, by Lizz and her funclub – recent and old childhood friends and family.

Without stepping out of this paradise, we have people dropping by and entertaining, especially me, with elephants, snakes and rhinoceros stories dating back from the times of the tea plantation life in Assam, or more or less recent stories of a crazy life in Bangalore.

Being in India a good couple of times, I still try to pinpoint what draws me to this country so much. One of these “things” is definitely Indian connection. People here want to communicate and connect! About little or big things, they talk and relate to each other all the time. Even if the communication is difficult because of the language barrier, they want to establish relation. Hence constant questions “which country ma’me?”, “what’s your good name ma’me?”. Most of these people have no clue where is Poland or can’t repeat my name (it usually comes out as “Boleta”) but they want to interact, be somehow connected. Making the contact is easy, if you only wish to open and go for it. And I had wonderful moments of being accepted and belonging without knowing the people or being able to verbally exchange with them.

 Hindi are easy going and very casual in conversations. One feels welcomed and part of the company straight away without this initial shyness when you don’t know people. They ask about you and share their stories, they offer their company, their help, their house, certainly phone number “in case you need anything”. Connecting spreads and creates a big network of people. If you are in trouble or in need, certainly somebody knows somebody else who can be of a help. One feels like a member of a village and, I must admit, it gives me a precious sense of belonging and security.