Mellow Mysore

Its Sunday midday, and I have already been to the bus stop to go to Kerala. I was told by three different people that the bus to Cannanore (also known similarly as Kannur) runs at three different times. One person said there is only one per day - at 11:30 at night arriving at 6am. Someone else told me they run every hour on the hour. So, upon my arrival, with my pack in tow, I was told that no, the bus is at 1pm. Another hour and a half to wait. Which is fine. I have a stack of trashy reading ( I am so shamefully addicted to the 'Twilight' series its embarassing - but apparently not embarassing enough to admit to - why am I so cheesey, why?)to keep me busy until I (maybe) get my bus.
So, this is the end for Darius and I. Over Masala Dosa we this morning we discussed how great it was that despite spending almost every waking moment together for the last month and a half, neither one of us tried to murder the other - actually other than perhaps lack of sleep grumpiness, I didn't feel any pangs of aggitation. Maybe its different on his side ;)
I spent the day yesterday in lovely Mysore. This town has a really great vibe and I would say its a 'must-see'on the south India circuit. I wandered through the streets in the morning hoping to make it to the Bazaar (while Darius stayed back due to sleepiness/stomach issues...). A helpful and hilarious guy sort of showed me around and asked if I wanted to go to a beedi factory. For those who don't know, I beedi is an Indian cigarette, but it is rolled in a tabacco leaf and filled with pure tabacco. I tried one once and they are insanely harsh. But there i was, sitting on the floor with probably 10 old men, learning how to roll beedis. They were able to roll about 100/hour. It took me about 20 minutes to get one, shabbily rolled. It was amazing to watch them work. They had a whole system: one guy cut the leaves (that had been dampened so that they didn't crack). These were passed to a few other men in the circle who rolled tabacco from large baskets into little beedis. They are neatly tied with a pink thread and pilled into packs of 25. The pack of 25 sells for 10INR - so I can only imagine how little they are paid. However, these men were smiling and jovial, smoking and drinking chai and happy, it seemed to have a foriegn visitor struggling over what they were able to do with such ease.
I wandered back through the streets. Its a really colorful town, full of cows and more livestock than I am used to seeing, but it is also a relatively muslim town too. I can't tell whether I am getting more and more comfortable in India, comfortable with being different and foriengn in this place, knowing more how to walk and act, and no longer shocked by some of the things I see here. Or perhaps Mysore is just an easier city (that Hyderabad, for example). Either way, its a good feeling to have as I part ways with Darius and set off on my own (hopefully on the right bus).
I'll give an update once I get started into the routine of working with the NGO in Kerala. Until then...