The age of the volunteer

Last week I deserted the Bangalore yuppies, my bikinis, short skirts, hygiene, vanity and love of booze, sofas, TV, toast, makeup and hair straighteners behind me, to begin a new life as Sarah The Volunteer. Sarah The Volunteer is a kind, selfless, girl who is more at home in Indian salwar kameez and sandals, prefers early morning starts, lentils, rice, needy children and chanting to hangover Sundays, telly, boys and sushi. She wants to change the world. She is great, better than most other people in fact. The other thing you need to know abouther is that she loves telling people about her Good Works. The old Sarah arrived in Mysore, the city of maharajah's palaces, palmtrees and sandalwood dressed in something inappropriate by AmericanApparel. She had rudely shunned the Indian clothes offered to her by a friend in Bangalore ('err, no thanks' – if you think I'm wearing that ugly bit of ethnic table cloth you've got another thing coming), and was bearing shoulders, chest and knee, much to the amusement of just about everyone on the train platform (about 400 people). After 24 hours of humiliation, heat and enforced modesty Sarah The Volunteer was born, grudgingly eating, squatting, getting up at 5am for yoga, having acupuncture, Tai Chi, wearing table cloths and working with disadvantaged children, along with the rest of the foreign inhabitants of Mysore. Of course Sarah The Volunteer (who loves to rough it), shunned thehotels, with their high tech wifi connections, air conditioning, western toilets, swimming pools and beauty salons, and is staying withan authentic Indian family. Nothing is more thrilling to her than washing in a cold bucket at sunrise, and speeding off on her moped toyoga for a couple hours of earnestly chanting and stretching before God: "JEEVAMAN BHARAJATH PHANA, SAHASRA VIRUTH VISHWAMBARA..." etc. At home she eats curry and chapati by the fistful and spends days working with the disadvantaged girls at the refuge. Some might say that teaching teaching sex trafficked teenage girls to ride mopeds, painting their nails bright red, practising head stands and drinking tea with them does not constitute 'work', but it is avery important kind of therapy. Sarah's Good Work also includes daily acupuncture sessions where she lies in a room with the girls having
needles stuck into her feet and then having a nap. It's tough, of course, but it is important to the girls that she participate in every area of their rehabilitation. Mostly the girls take Sarah The Volunteer very seriously. At other times they laugh at her moles ("sister, what are these? ha ha ha") and her hair("sister, why short hair? Long hair very nice") and steal her moped. But Sarah The Volunteer is charitable enough not to mind.

The other thing to mention about being in Mysore in February, is that it is currently yoga season and every corner is bursting with toned sinewy types eating mung beans and earnestly discussing their PRACTICE with just about anyone that will listen. The old Sarah would probably laugh at these people behind their backs and call them wankers, but Sarah The Volunteer would never be so shallow, or judgemental. In fact she is now so kind and tolerant, that an incident last night withan American "yoga health therapist" (what?) called TRACEY (caps to emphasise volume) failed to provoke even the tiniest shred of bitchiness. Over dinner at a friend's apartment, Sarah was explaining about the problem of sex trafficking in India, where thousands of women and children are kidnapped, raped, exploited and abused every single year. So TRACEY said: "Did you know that Indian people do NOT have ORAL SEX?" everyone shook their heads, wondering whether to shove her into inverted lotus, stick her feet into her mouth or shove her face in the squat toilet. "Well that must mean that these girls arehaving vaginal intercourse at LEAST 40 times a day!" That was uncomfortable. But it didn't stop there. On the subject of poverty:"Did you know I that I dieted so much once that my period stopped fora whole year?" No we did not know that. "You know what I always say?"No. "Don't trust anything that bleeds for 7 days and doesn't die! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Or: "don't trust anything that doesn't eat for seven days, releases 25 tonnes of poo every time it opens its mouth and doesn't die? HA HA HA HA HA!"

Of course after so much social work and stretching before God, every volunteer needs some rest and relaxation, so Sarah The Volunteer tries to make time in between her Good Works to have the occasional (twice weekly) pedicure, tea and cucumber sandwiches on the veranda at the local five star hotel and leisurely swims at the converted maharajah'spalace in the shade of palm trees...