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How I met my new brother Manik (or the end to a series of unfortunate events)


Kolkata road to the airport. View from taxi. Sign of things to come.

Last week, I came home to the Philippines after my second visit to India in 1 ½ years. The trip was so terribly eventful, that after the first week, I broke down in tears wanting to immediately come home. But after I have cried my eyes out, I resolved to finish what I had started, a training that I wanted too much and invested so much into. The second week’s unfortunate events did not let up, but I had a respite in the good company of Lorina who was training coordinator in the 2015 workshop. She graciously invited me to stay with her after the training.

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Incredibly in love with India

The rocky mountains of Kolar. Photo taken by Marion Ivy Guillermo

The rocky mountains of Kolar. Photo taken by Marion Ivy Guillermo

I wanted to give this post the title “The Story of Me Falling In Love With India And Its Hospitality”, but then I would have to add, Apologies to the German Girl who wrote an article of the same title.

Trying to keep it simple, I came out with this.

The story of me falling in love with India is the story of ‘I knew I love you before I met you.’ Since I was young, I have always been fascinated by photos of starkly beautiful women with piercing eyes, wearing wonderfully coloured sari. It has always been in my bucket list of countries to visit: England, Egypt, and India.

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