The one thing that always astounds me about Bangalore is the stark diversities within the city and surrounding rural areas. One moment you can be driving down a street that is not dissimilar from home, with towering glass buildings and flashing advertisements. But when you look a bit closer you notice the lady sat on this exact street willing people to buy fruit from her, the old man begging for money from passers-by and the young children playing amongst the mass amounts of rubble that litter the streets. When visiting some of the villages I felt like we had almost stepped back in time, into places that were isolated from the modern world, still submerged in traditional Indian culture in every aspect. Then someone’s mobile phone would ring. Or you’d pass the house of the village chief with an expensive car parked out the front, guarded by a tall metal gate. There are snippets of modern day life amongst poverty. I find this bizarre, fascinating and frustrating.