yes, i said church.. catholic church that is.. in the middle of the forest. that is exactly the way gautam described the place to us. anna was tired from a long morning bike ride, so with an itch to get out on a nice sunday afternoon, melanie and i jumped at the idea. the church is in dajpur, a small village town about 30 mins from here (if you have your own means of transportation that is). we took a friend's motorbike and the three of us darted past beautiful countryside. at times (my most favorite parts), we found ourselves with miles of empty road in front of us. no car, bike, cattle, or soul in sight. there's just something about being on a motorbike that makes you feel cool.. like peter fonda in easy rider or gael garcia bernal in motorcycle diaries. but this is india.. and gautam is no fonda or bernal. the stares that almost caused wrecks weren't because we were cool. two white girls straddling an indian guy.. could constitute as the most action people have seen around here in a while. nevertheless, it was such a beautiful ride. as we neared, we went down small roads through fields.. passing farmers who would stop their work to watch us go by. when we arrived at the gate, it really was an enchanted forest in india (i will continue to stress this).. with an enormous catholic church the size of the Notre Dame. so what was this place doing in the middle of this forest in the middle of nowhere.. in india? well apparently during the time when the british were still here in the early 1900s, an indian man was in love with a british woman and the only way she would marry him was if he were to build her a church just like the ones in england. so he did, and he and his high maintenance bride lived happily ever after i suppose. it took something like ten years to build. surreal as it seemed at first, it only became more so after meeting the resident priest. he was from kerala (south india). he showed us his little big farm that consisted of dogs, buffalo, chickens, quail, guinnea foul, guinnea pigs, rabbits... all of which he didn't eat of course, just kept as pets. he even had a peacock named mouro that answered him by name. a really sweet man. and with true indian hospitality, he gave us tea and snacks and showed us around.
we headed out in the afternoon, back towards the beautiful stretch of winding roads that awaited us. the sun had gone closer to the horizon, giving long shadows across the landscape. this time i couldn't keep my camera in the bag. on one of those dirt roads that only existed because we were on it, we drove over a bridge that crossed a river. just as we crossed, about 20 large white birds flew elegantly and so closely above our heads. as if in slow motion.. the only moment in a dream that you remember completely out of context. it was the best day i'd had in a while.
melanie and i with the priest
gautam really liked him ha
the river
the church
the farm and his peacock mouro
petting the quail
Mouro with the chickens near a bed of marajuana
Mouro
we headed out in the afternoon, back towards the beautiful stretch of winding roads that awaited us. the sun had gone closer to the horizon, giving long shadows across the landscape. this time i couldn't keep my camera in the bag. on one of those dirt roads that only existed because we were on it, we drove over a bridge that crossed a river. just as we crossed, about 20 large white birds flew elegantly and so closely above our heads. as if in slow motion.. the only moment in a dream that you remember completely out of context. it was the best day i'd had in a while.
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