Chaos, contrasts and letting go: the road transforms us

Our trip to India takes us to Tanjavur, in the south of the country. A noisy, dusty city, deeply marked by poverty. The streets are tangled, saturated with honking horns. Cows are present, but chained, emaciated, resigned, far from the sacred image we expected. The bodies are suffering too. Lots of cripples, lots of damaged faces. It’s difficult for the children.

And for us adults, it’s a sensory and inner test. The shock is frontal. We are observed and photographed everywhere. The whiteness of our daughters’ skin fascinates. People take pictures of them without asking. We smile, sometimes. We feel uncomfortable, often. We adapt, slowly. But the agitation wears us down.

Pondicherry, a peaceful interlude

A few days later, we reach Pondicherry. The air is milder. The city is calmer. The colonial architecture, wider streets and French influence soften the intensity of Tanjavur. We need to recover. We need to come back to ourselves.

So we decided to take time out to do other things. We open up to Indian art by taking part in workshops: dance, drawing, henna, cooking. These spaces are like breathing spaces. Another way of encountering Indian culture: through gesture, through the body, through the hands. The children calm down, concentrate and laugh. And we, little by little, regain our equilibrium.

Munnar: the green refuge

Then there’s Munnar, in the mountains. But to get there, you first have to face… a chaotic journey by night bus. The driving is nervous, fast and winding. It’s dark, it’s raining, the bus is pitching. I’m scared. Really scared. Afraid of an accident. Afraid of not reaching my destination. It’s time to really let go.

And yet, here we are in the morning. In the freshness, the greenery, the silence. Munnar welcomes us like a balm. Everything is damp, flowery, misty. It rains almost all the time. But we receive the rain like a caress. The five of us spend hours watching the rain fall, expecting nothing.

A philosophy of travel, a philosophy of life

It was in Munnar that we coined a phrase that would stay with us for the rest of the trip: “Even if you don’t have all the route info, you always reach your destination.”

A simple truth, born of experience. We learn to trust the path, even if it’s uncertain. To stop trying to control everything. To let life unfold, even if the GPS is blurred, even if the stage is rough, even if rest is still a long way off.

Midipy: trusting the process

What we’re experiencing here echoes our approach with Midipy. In the way we design, produce and deliver, there’s also this choice of patient trust. Working with craftsmen takes time. Choosing natural materials means respecting cycles. Delivering made-to-measure is not always immediate.

Our objects are born of a path, not a chain. They carry within them the time it takes, the invisible steps, the silences between gestures. And in the end, they arrive at their destination. Like us, on this road to Munnar.