*frankfurt airport, business class lounge. some time on may 8th, as i wait to take my second leg home from India*
The moon refused to chase me yesterday.
I craned to watch out my window
expecting to see it speed just behind the bus--
but the grin of that Cheshire only laughed.
And far above,
distorted and giant,
an eye winked
(a star shimmered)
and the entire sky became one face.
Tears overflow my eyes
and drip
fall
spill.
"Stop. Don't race ahead. It is still real right now."
Laugh, out loud,
and a smile cracks my freckled face--
but I can feel myself crumbling
beneath the weight of this proximity.
Will I remember the child brown and shoeless
wading through garbage and shit,
hoisting her sister on her own three year old hip?
I am a sieve.
And I am filtering--
against my will, the course from the fine--
images of the land of color and filth.
As one, it pumps as a single unit:
simultaneously the peak
and the plunge of human existence.
Should it remain fully tainted?
There is dirt in the pours of my feet,
spotting my toes
like the negative of lice on a bald black head.
Dirt in the cracks of my toenails:
scratch behind my ear and my fingers turn black.
Like ants
in my breakfast,
beads of grime roll and scamper down
my arms and legs
spill out of my navel
cascade down my face.
Pool at my elbows and knees,
collect into a river of grime and then
spills over--
rushes with white churning energy
down
down
out
and down.
Each hair stands on end
each one a vessel
for my human aqueduct to carry what memories
I have into and out of the vault of my brain.
Hair toes fingers are the deltas
from which ants dirt lizards grit
cloth color powder
plastic shit bottles
shoot in one hundred
separate
directions each landing in a place
I could call home.
My body sweats these creatures and filth
as it sifts through what has been real.
No longer absorbing dirt
I now extract an essence not my own--
or newly my own:
as such profoundly disturbing.
Crane around a brown neck to see
the familiar face of the sky--
but the moon would not run.
So what could I do but leave her behind?
I will try to move beyond the shock of these new nuances;
only, I can't find the door towards home.
Even as 1 billion heads nod
'yes, straight and over left (or right),'
no one can tell me where the best part of me landed
on that day 24 lifetimes ago
(or 5 months in my history)
when the grit ants shot from my toes.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thursday, May 08, 2008
ha! business class lounge!
Well, I am writing this on a German computer and the z and y are switched and there are funnz letters like ä and ö and ü and I cant get the 'at' szmbol to work. But, woah, what a difference this all is! I arrived at the Hyderabad airport (which is all new and fancy) early because I decided I'd rather wait at the air-conditioned airport than in my hot homestay.
I waited around for my check in time to start outside the terminal, got my last iced Eskimo from cafe coffee day, and sat, with stares and glances coming my way every minute. Apparently the windows near where I was sitting were in desperate need of intense cleaning, as were the floors because within about 10 minutes of sitting there, I had at least 3 or 4 airport workers just standing close to me, mop in hand pushing the dirt around, and window cleaners just idly rubbing the same spot over and over. BUT then I checked in and took a portal which whizzed me to another universe via the elevator down to the special lounge for important people like me (fluke, I'm flying business class). And I walk in, in my balloon pants and dirty chokos which I haven't taken off for 5 months and look around at all this food and drinks, and adamantly don't believe the server lady when she tells me everything is free of charge. This guy nearby chucked and said, something funny about that and we started chatting and I felt like I had been zapped into another world that I had forced myself to accept did not exist anymore.
And it wasn't India: it was not what I had come from, not when early yesterday I ate lunch with my host family for the last time and found 3 small ants in my rice,...not when on the way to the airport I saw a 3 year old girl walking through a pile of garbage, carrying her 1 year old sister on her hip. Not the same place that I have been living in where I take trains over night and smell and see piss and shit along the train tracks because the toilets are just holes in the train floor. Certainly not the same place as the mountains and gorgeous rivers and sprawling tea plantations, or the Taj Mahal or the wonderful decay of Kolkata. Not the height nor the depths of the India that I've seen. It was just this rich, too organized place that felt like a pod of westernization. And yet, of course, it was SO amazing to get free food and a beer and not have to worry about my bag being stolen or anything like that. And I was still in Hyderabad.
s
I waited around for my check in time to start outside the terminal, got my last iced Eskimo from cafe coffee day, and sat, with stares and glances coming my way every minute. Apparently the windows near where I was sitting were in desperate need of intense cleaning, as were the floors because within about 10 minutes of sitting there, I had at least 3 or 4 airport workers just standing close to me, mop in hand pushing the dirt around, and window cleaners just idly rubbing the same spot over and over. BUT then I checked in and took a portal which whizzed me to another universe via the elevator down to the special lounge for important people like me (fluke, I'm flying business class). And I walk in, in my balloon pants and dirty chokos which I haven't taken off for 5 months and look around at all this food and drinks, and adamantly don't believe the server lady when she tells me everything is free of charge. This guy nearby chucked and said, something funny about that and we started chatting and I felt like I had been zapped into another world that I had forced myself to accept did not exist anymore.
And it wasn't India: it was not what I had come from, not when early yesterday I ate lunch with my host family for the last time and found 3 small ants in my rice,...not when on the way to the airport I saw a 3 year old girl walking through a pile of garbage, carrying her 1 year old sister on her hip. Not the same place that I have been living in where I take trains over night and smell and see piss and shit along the train tracks because the toilets are just holes in the train floor. Certainly not the same place as the mountains and gorgeous rivers and sprawling tea plantations, or the Taj Mahal or the wonderful decay of Kolkata. Not the height nor the depths of the India that I've seen. It was just this rich, too organized place that felt like a pod of westernization. And yet, of course, it was SO amazing to get free food and a beer and not have to worry about my bag being stolen or anything like that. And I was still in Hyderabad.
It was amazing how refreshed I felt after a really short time in that luxury. My turn around time has increased so much, so that after only an hour or two in a place less stressful, I already feel ready to get back out there into the real and hard, exciting and fast passed world of REAL India. But of course, I didn't go back out there. Instead I was shuttled from the special lounge via a separate tunnel onto the plane and sat down in my seat, looked out the window at the same image I saw when I sat on my plane going to India and suddenly felt like I was back on my ride going to India 5 months before taking off from Boston.
And then I left India.
Yesterday I cried a lot. And it was not because I was sad to be leaving India--at least I don't think it was. That was certainly not why I felt the impulse to just weep. Maybe on one level I'm sad to leave it because it means this crazy experience is finally over and now I have to go back to a normal life and somehow find a way to integrate the two together; but all that feels and felt secondary. No, I cried yesterday out of fear. Each time I thought about my family and home I just couldn't help myself. I could feel myself, at last, so close to getting back, and yet still was not there. The plane ride from Delhi to Hyderabad was so weird because the entire time I could only think about how the plane was going to blow up or crash or something would go wrong and prevent me from ever actually leaving India. I've never in my life been paranoid about flying or airplanes, but that day getting back and forth from Delhi to Hyderabad, to my homestay and back to the airport my mind was full of the worst thoughts of disasters and crashes--so much that I had to just STOP thinking or else I was going to go crazy. When I got back to my Indian home in Doyans 101 I felt so strangely like I was coming home, it was weird after all that insanity of traveling and yet all I could think about was that I was finally, FINALLY, going to my real home! I realized though, in seeing my little street, my room, the University campus and the small gate into the Guest House, just how far I'd come. How much everything in India--all that stuff that at first felt totally unmanageable and overwhelming--had become customary and doable.
The last leap was to get myself to the airport so I left early and sat on that bus and that's when I cried. Miraculously it went smoother than any other transaction I'd had yet in India, and I got to the airport at 7:30PM for my flight that left at 1AM later that night. It was so terrifying to think being so close to going home, and yet feel still so far away from it. I had been separated physically by 2 continents and 2 oceans the entire time, as well as all the plane and train rides I took, as well as all the emotional barriers necessary to make living in India possible, and yet that day before coming home I was emotionally already home really, but still JUST as far from home as I'd been all semester. There were still the oceans and land masses separating us. And it was scary because I was terrified that somehow there would be something that prevented me from ever actually getting away and finally going home. Some part of me, while living in India, had to convince myself that that was my new life--that it was permanent and real. Because, if I didn't accept it all, then I would never have come to be OK with it all. And so I convinced myself that it was all going to last forever and that there was no end in sight and that is how it was doable on some level, and accept that it was my life for the time that it was. That last day though, was so strange because I saw that it was going to end, but was still just as far from being there as I'd been the whole time. I was terrified that somehow I wouldn't end up making it home and I'd have to stay in India for longer and longer and never make it home. Only now I realize how much I had to twist and warp my mind so that I could accept that I was living in India for 5 months as it was happening.
I was sick on the plane, which was actually great for me because it kept me reminded of where I was coming from. Amidst the luxury of business class I was still confronted by what had been real: the dirt in my fingernails, the holes in my clothes, the dust in my eyes, and the grains in my teeth.
I was sick on the plane, which was actually great for me because it kept me reminded of where I was coming from. Amidst the luxury of business class I was still confronted by what had been real: the dirt in my fingernails, the holes in my clothes, the dust in my eyes, and the grains in my teeth.
weird, because in the entire time I flew from Hyderabad to Boston I didn't smell fresh air for almost 2 days.
that's all.
peace out homeslices. it's been REALZ.
that's all.
peace out homeslices. it's been REALZ.
s
Sunday, May 04, 2008
longest week of my life...
In the last week I have experienced more dips and highs and shifts in my own mentality towards India than in the entire 5 months that I've been here. I have a new appreciation for people who really travel in this country for an extended period of time, and suddenly I realize how lucky I was to have had Hyderbabad, as miserably as that city was, as my home base all semester. India is exhausting, as I've known since minute 1 of being here, but being able to rest and retreat into the campus of HCU and my homestay (again, despite the disappointment there, too), is crucial for maintaining any kind of sanity as a foreigner in this country.
We flew from Hyderabad on the 29th of April, after our last exam ended 4 hours before, to Kolkata, where Mallory has family. After mix ups with dates and time of arrivals, we were whisked away in a van to the house (on the way we were offered food many time, and since we are vegetarians, the only thing we ended up getting were the Indian version of Ho-hos and a GIANT litre bottle of Thumbs Up--India's coke). Had a terrifying time of driving through the streets of Kolkata at 1am and actually for the first time in my life realized and felt fully how vulnerable I am--as a woman, as a white woman, and simply as a foreigner in general. I can't write about that just yet, actually, because I can feel that the full effect of that night and the days in Kolkata actually, are still working on me, and I am still not sure what I will say about it all.
Suffice it to say, for now at least, that Kolkata is my favorite city in India, hands down. It is old and decrepid and it is falling apart at every seam. It is dusty and dirty and full to the brim with cars and taxis, autos and buses. And yet it has a charm to it, and an tradition that is entirely new. Kolkata (Calcutta as it used to be spelled) was the capital of India until like 1911 or something, and then the British shifted it to Delhi. Because of that, Kolkata is filled with old buildings and architecture that is all from British Raj era. And yet it has fallen into a such a state of decay that everything feels to be beautifully crumbling before your eyes. It was also the first city that felt walk-able that I had been to in India and I wish so badly that I had gone to school there and lived there instead of in the Tech Center of Hyderabad! Kolkata is like a game of jenga. the streets are crammed together, and one building juts out so the building next to it caves it. everything fits together so entirely, there is no open space really and it feels overflowing and like it is going to explode at the seems. it feels like an old dress that has really been worn in and is about to rip at the seems. and yet it is able to stay together. there are the sounds of life, poeple LIFE, not cars and buses like in Hyderabad. i loved it entirely.
Mallory's family is an interesting bunch. We were not sure the entire time who we were with exactly, or how Mallory is related to them and who. But we made it work in a semi-kind of way. We were staying in the house that her father grew up in, which was really amazing to be in. It felt stifling, though, because since we are both girls, and Mallory is actually a part of the family, they all have this idea that we only want to sit inside all day and that we have no interest in anything cultural except watching movies and getting married eventually (that came up a few times for Mal, which was priceless). Being with them also was hard because we just wanted to walk the city and they wanted to drive us places which takes twice as long, and they took forever to get moving. It reminded me of how my sister describes Spain, where there can only be one activity for the entire day. That is what it was like in Kolkata with Mallory's family. For instance, we didn't get out of the house to go DO something until 4:30pm...and we had said we would leave in the early morning.
Anyway, after too short a time in Kolkata, stinted somewhat by feeling boxed in by expectations, we got on a plane to Delhi where my brain exploded. I really don't like Delhi one bit. It has come a long way, in that it has traffic rules and cleaner streets, and beautiful buildings (like state capitals stuff, etc.) but other than that, it is totally filthy and over conjested and completely lacks that charm that Kolkata seemed to have. Where Kolkata has integrated itself into it's history, Delhi seems t0 have superimposed itself and its history onto a clean paper, and gone from there. It is a strange feeling.
We were exhausted and overwhelmed and so much emotional and physical strain is unbelievably taxing and Delhi is just NOT the place to try to relax. Street vendors are worse than anywhere I have been so far. To the point where if you look them sternly in the eye and saying No. (something that works quite well in many places here) in Delhi they only turn to their friends and laugh at you for losing your temper. But how can they expect me to react! that is the worst part. I can't be polite, and i can't be rude. And I can't ignore them because they follow you for 10 minutes. I hate that harsh people in a fast city like that are capable of forcing me to be become harsh myself. I hate feeling like I have to have a destination when I walk, but here that is what you have to do. If you look like you are just wondering, you are a real gonner.
We found the backpacker's heaven in Delhi, which is only nice in that there are a lot of other white people around (which in Delhi is actually reassuring, let me say). It is insanely hectic and overwhelming and not relaxing, but at least it is cheap and doable and feels somewhat safe. Delhi is full FULL of scams and people just waiting to rip us off, and it so hard to exist in that kind of environment.
We got a driver for the next day to take us and a friend we made, named Will (which was strange to have a 'Will' around), who was from Reading, England, to the Taj Mahal. We paid him too much, and he said he would turn on the AC if we paid him more, but that is just so jerky of him that we said no, because he just wanted US to pay for him to be more comfortable. and he was a terrifying driver and it took 5 hours to get there and 5 to get back and we really didn't do the Taj the best way possible. We were there during the hottest part of the day and they didn't let me pay the Indian price (even with my residency card from HCU) and so I had to pay Rs750 (which is nearly $20!!) haha that is so NOT a lot of money, but of course it seems like it is now to me... But of course, despite all these drawbacks, the Taj was spectacular. Truly and utterly amazing and so beautiful--just jaw dropping. I took lots of pictures, but words and photos have never done the job in the past, and so I won't even attempt to describe the Taj Mahal on this measly blog of mine. Go if you can, and go at sunrise or sunset and DONT go in the heat of the day.
After the Taj, we GOT OUT OF DELHI. We got to Haridwar, where the Ganges comes out of the Himalayas and now we are in Rishikesh which is the yoga and ashram capital of the world, and also where the Beatles came to write their White Album. So that's cool. We've been here for a few days now and have just been lounging as best we can. We did some yoga, we slept a lot, we went up a hike to see a waterfall. We are later going to see the ashram where the Beatles actually stayed, and our plans for the rest of the time here are to take a cooking class, do more yoga, meet up with our friends from HCU who are doing a 10 day retreat in this same town (!!), go white water rafter (?), and potentially go see the puja at Haridwar, where hundreds and hundreds of Hindu pilgrams are flocking around this time of year, to make offerings to the gods and clean themselves in the holy Ganges. We'll see how much of all that we actually do--it's so funny, because every time we travel here we have this elaborate plan to do SO many things and inevitably we change it so many times and just want to relax and take it easy.
At this point, though, I am only interested in making it through the next 4 days and getting my butt back to the US where I can sit on that money ass and watch bad TV while eating gummi bears and twizzlers, ice cream out of the pint, and where i can brush my teeth with the water right from the tap!!
I am more exhausted than I have ever been in my entire life right now. emotionally, and physically and mentally I feel just totally drained. I can't
I am so ready to come home. India has been so incredible and this blog has helped at times and been a pain in the ass at others. I love that I have documented what I have done, but it has been really interesting which experiences and thoughts are blog-able and which are not. I have really had to work through so many different mediums over the course of this trip in my attempts to come to a fuller understanding of what it is I am experiencing, or seeing, or whatever. Somedays it was painting, somedays it was poetry, somedays it was modern Amrican novelists, others it was new age yoga lessons or traditional annoying "yoga is good for the health" (a whole post needs to be for my yoga teachers and all that). Other days it was meditating, others it was thinking and talking, others it was hiking. Sometimes it was screaming, or crying, or dreaming of home.
I dreamt last night that the government got mad at me for changing my mind so many times about Europe that they took away my passport and made my mother go into hiding for trying to cheap the system (which we aren't doing). I dreamt that it all had to do with me on this quest to find the identity of my dad, and that we were flying first class around looking for him, and that there were clean showers (with stalls!) as part of flying first class.
seems indicative of where my head is right now.
That's all for now.
-S
PS:
Two things I keep forgetting to mention about India/my experience that are funny and I don't want to forget them:
1) When Tim, Arletta and I cooked our host family dinner one night, we made pasta and tomato sauce. we used some random spoons and 2 forks that we found miraculously in the house somewhere, but after about 2 minutes, Amma and everyone was eating pasta with their hands. Best moment was at the end when Amma used her hand, as always, to scoop the extra tomato sauce out of the pot onto her/my/everyone's pasta.
2) the way people pause while they talk before saying the important words of their sentences. makes it really hard and kind of makes me feel anxious because you don't know what people are going to say!
******
i can only write this once i think because it is not the kind of thing that i want to admit or think about. i am terrified of trying to explain all this--India, my brain, my thoughts, my mind, my face, my skin, my days, my classes, my homestay, my world here--to people back home. and it's scary to think about because those people back home are the reason i want to come home right now so badly, and i feel like if i can't explain it to them--to YOU, whoever YOU are--then those people won't get me anymore, or won't realize everything about me.
i adore India so much. i have loved it and hated it at times, and laughed at it and with it, and it sounds so cheesy and sappy but it is so hard to put any of it into words or thoughts or stories. how can i capture 5 months of living in this insane place, and all the things that I have thought about and done into any one story that i can tell people.
and I'm still not sure I can answer that question: Why did you come to India? I still don't know. but these things are too much to think about right now. rather, I'm only going to focus on what it feels like to be in Rishikesh right now, and what it is going to feel like to sit on my couch in Boston in 4 days, eating Ben & Jerry's.
We flew from Hyderabad on the 29th of April, after our last exam ended 4 hours before, to Kolkata, where Mallory has family. After mix ups with dates and time of arrivals, we were whisked away in a van to the house (on the way we were offered food many time, and since we are vegetarians, the only thing we ended up getting were the Indian version of Ho-hos and a GIANT litre bottle of Thumbs Up--India's coke). Had a terrifying time of driving through the streets of Kolkata at 1am and actually for the first time in my life realized and felt fully how vulnerable I am--as a woman, as a white woman, and simply as a foreigner in general. I can't write about that just yet, actually, because I can feel that the full effect of that night and the days in Kolkata actually, are still working on me, and I am still not sure what I will say about it all.
Suffice it to say, for now at least, that Kolkata is my favorite city in India, hands down. It is old and decrepid and it is falling apart at every seam. It is dusty and dirty and full to the brim with cars and taxis, autos and buses. And yet it has a charm to it, and an tradition that is entirely new. Kolkata (Calcutta as it used to be spelled) was the capital of India until like 1911 or something, and then the British shifted it to Delhi. Because of that, Kolkata is filled with old buildings and architecture that is all from British Raj era. And yet it has fallen into a such a state of decay that everything feels to be beautifully crumbling before your eyes. It was also the first city that felt walk-able that I had been to in India and I wish so badly that I had gone to school there and lived there instead of in the Tech Center of Hyderabad! Kolkata is like a game of jenga. the streets are crammed together, and one building juts out so the building next to it caves it. everything fits together so entirely, there is no open space really and it feels overflowing and like it is going to explode at the seems. it feels like an old dress that has really been worn in and is about to rip at the seems. and yet it is able to stay together. there are the sounds of life, poeple LIFE, not cars and buses like in Hyderabad. i loved it entirely.
Mallory's family is an interesting bunch. We were not sure the entire time who we were with exactly, or how Mallory is related to them and who. But we made it work in a semi-kind of way. We were staying in the house that her father grew up in, which was really amazing to be in. It felt stifling, though, because since we are both girls, and Mallory is actually a part of the family, they all have this idea that we only want to sit inside all day and that we have no interest in anything cultural except watching movies and getting married eventually (that came up a few times for Mal, which was priceless). Being with them also was hard because we just wanted to walk the city and they wanted to drive us places which takes twice as long, and they took forever to get moving. It reminded me of how my sister describes Spain, where there can only be one activity for the entire day. That is what it was like in Kolkata with Mallory's family. For instance, we didn't get out of the house to go DO something until 4:30pm...and we had said we would leave in the early morning.
Anyway, after too short a time in Kolkata, stinted somewhat by feeling boxed in by expectations, we got on a plane to Delhi where my brain exploded. I really don't like Delhi one bit. It has come a long way, in that it has traffic rules and cleaner streets, and beautiful buildings (like state capitals stuff, etc.) but other than that, it is totally filthy and over conjested and completely lacks that charm that Kolkata seemed to have. Where Kolkata has integrated itself into it's history, Delhi seems t0 have superimposed itself and its history onto a clean paper, and gone from there. It is a strange feeling.
We were exhausted and overwhelmed and so much emotional and physical strain is unbelievably taxing and Delhi is just NOT the place to try to relax. Street vendors are worse than anywhere I have been so far. To the point where if you look them sternly in the eye and saying No. (something that works quite well in many places here) in Delhi they only turn to their friends and laugh at you for losing your temper. But how can they expect me to react! that is the worst part. I can't be polite, and i can't be rude. And I can't ignore them because they follow you for 10 minutes. I hate that harsh people in a fast city like that are capable of forcing me to be become harsh myself. I hate feeling like I have to have a destination when I walk, but here that is what you have to do. If you look like you are just wondering, you are a real gonner.
We found the backpacker's heaven in Delhi, which is only nice in that there are a lot of other white people around (which in Delhi is actually reassuring, let me say). It is insanely hectic and overwhelming and not relaxing, but at least it is cheap and doable and feels somewhat safe. Delhi is full FULL of scams and people just waiting to rip us off, and it so hard to exist in that kind of environment.
We got a driver for the next day to take us and a friend we made, named Will (which was strange to have a 'Will' around), who was from Reading, England, to the Taj Mahal. We paid him too much, and he said he would turn on the AC if we paid him more, but that is just so jerky of him that we said no, because he just wanted US to pay for him to be more comfortable. and he was a terrifying driver and it took 5 hours to get there and 5 to get back and we really didn't do the Taj the best way possible. We were there during the hottest part of the day and they didn't let me pay the Indian price (even with my residency card from HCU) and so I had to pay Rs750 (which is nearly $20!!) haha that is so NOT a lot of money, but of course it seems like it is now to me... But of course, despite all these drawbacks, the Taj was spectacular. Truly and utterly amazing and so beautiful--just jaw dropping. I took lots of pictures, but words and photos have never done the job in the past, and so I won't even attempt to describe the Taj Mahal on this measly blog of mine. Go if you can, and go at sunrise or sunset and DONT go in the heat of the day.
After the Taj, we GOT OUT OF DELHI. We got to Haridwar, where the Ganges comes out of the Himalayas and now we are in Rishikesh which is the yoga and ashram capital of the world, and also where the Beatles came to write their White Album. So that's cool. We've been here for a few days now and have just been lounging as best we can. We did some yoga, we slept a lot, we went up a hike to see a waterfall. We are later going to see the ashram where the Beatles actually stayed, and our plans for the rest of the time here are to take a cooking class, do more yoga, meet up with our friends from HCU who are doing a 10 day retreat in this same town (!!), go white water rafter (?), and potentially go see the puja at Haridwar, where hundreds and hundreds of Hindu pilgrams are flocking around this time of year, to make offerings to the gods and clean themselves in the holy Ganges. We'll see how much of all that we actually do--it's so funny, because every time we travel here we have this elaborate plan to do SO many things and inevitably we change it so many times and just want to relax and take it easy.
At this point, though, I am only interested in making it through the next 4 days and getting my butt back to the US where I can sit on that money ass and watch bad TV while eating gummi bears and twizzlers, ice cream out of the pint, and where i can brush my teeth with the water right from the tap!!
I am more exhausted than I have ever been in my entire life right now. emotionally, and physically and mentally I feel just totally drained. I can't
I am so ready to come home. India has been so incredible and this blog has helped at times and been a pain in the ass at others. I love that I have documented what I have done, but it has been really interesting which experiences and thoughts are blog-able and which are not. I have really had to work through so many different mediums over the course of this trip in my attempts to come to a fuller understanding of what it is I am experiencing, or seeing, or whatever. Somedays it was painting, somedays it was poetry, somedays it was modern Amrican novelists, others it was new age yoga lessons or traditional annoying "yoga is good for the health" (a whole post needs to be for my yoga teachers and all that). Other days it was meditating, others it was thinking and talking, others it was hiking. Sometimes it was screaming, or crying, or dreaming of home.
I dreamt last night that the government got mad at me for changing my mind so many times about Europe that they took away my passport and made my mother go into hiding for trying to cheap the system (which we aren't doing). I dreamt that it all had to do with me on this quest to find the identity of my dad, and that we were flying first class around looking for him, and that there were clean showers (with stalls!) as part of flying first class.
seems indicative of where my head is right now.
That's all for now.
-S
PS:
Two things I keep forgetting to mention about India/my experience that are funny and I don't want to forget them:
1) When Tim, Arletta and I cooked our host family dinner one night, we made pasta and tomato sauce. we used some random spoons and 2 forks that we found miraculously in the house somewhere, but after about 2 minutes, Amma and everyone was eating pasta with their hands. Best moment was at the end when Amma used her hand, as always, to scoop the extra tomato sauce out of the pot onto her/my/everyone's pasta.
2) the way people pause while they talk before saying the important words of their sentences. makes it really hard and kind of makes me feel anxious because you don't know what people are going to say!
******
i can only write this once i think because it is not the kind of thing that i want to admit or think about. i am terrified of trying to explain all this--India, my brain, my thoughts, my mind, my face, my skin, my days, my classes, my homestay, my world here--to people back home. and it's scary to think about because those people back home are the reason i want to come home right now so badly, and i feel like if i can't explain it to them--to YOU, whoever YOU are--then those people won't get me anymore, or won't realize everything about me.
i adore India so much. i have loved it and hated it at times, and laughed at it and with it, and it sounds so cheesy and sappy but it is so hard to put any of it into words or thoughts or stories. how can i capture 5 months of living in this insane place, and all the things that I have thought about and done into any one story that i can tell people.
and I'm still not sure I can answer that question: Why did you come to India? I still don't know. but these things are too much to think about right now. rather, I'm only going to focus on what it feels like to be in Rishikesh right now, and what it is going to feel like to sit on my couch in Boston in 4 days, eating Ben & Jerry's.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
well...
Terrible blogger that I've been the last month, it's nothing to what is about to happen. Which is that tonight I'm getting on a plane, heading to Kolkata to stay with Mallory's family, then to Delhi, to the Taj Mahal, up to the Himalayas, back to Hyderabad and then I fly out to Europe, where I prance around there for 2 weeks until the end of May.
Since last writing, mountains of things have happen, of course. I don't actually have the time to write about it all fully, but bullet points for now so that I remember it all later and can write it for real later.
1) Took the yoga exam, which lasted an entire weekend and was beyond frustrating and stupid, but I passed first class, and now I am certified yoga instructor. which hopefully sounds good at a least.
2) Wrote a billion papers and toured the coffee shops of Hyderabad to find a descent place to write them in. Discover of that excursion: coffee shops in India are not conducive for studying because they blast techno music all day long. And they only have one CD, which is just on repeat the whole time. w
3) Went on a weekend trip to visit the Ellora and Ajanta caves which are magnificent. Mind-blowing actually, that they were built/carved so long ago when I can't even imagine how you could construct them using modern equipment. It was one of my favorite places I've been to in India and I will have to devote a lot to describing it fully.
4) Went to cricket game in Hyderabad, which took over 3 hours to get to because it's India. They had brought in cheerleaders from some American football team who danced around every time Hyderabad's team (the Deccan Chargers) got a 4 or 6 (cricket is really weird but I kind of get it now actually). The cheerleaders being there were one of the most disconcerting things I've seen while being here actually because each time they got up, the guys in the crowd would just go crazy and it was just exactly why Indians have this warped view of American girls. And it was just sick looking at these girls who just LOVED the attention. Gross and messed up.
5) Went to this woman's house in Banjara Hills to learn how to cook Biryani which is this rice dish that Hyderabad is famous for. She was adorable and I loved it.
6) Sang kereoke at a "pub" one night.
7) Took some finals, finished classes and turned in papers. Am now finished with the school part of being in India and it feels absolutely amazing!
8) Got so overwhelmed with India and everything about it, that I felt like just screaming. Did scream a bit. Probably at the wrong people. Got amazing advice from my Mother and thought I didn't need it, but it turns out I did and now I am so grateful for the little sentence "do not push off when you leave".
9) Had dinner with my host family for the last 2 night and was amazed at how fun it was. Last night she got ice cream even, which was amazing.
10) Experienced what living in 107 degree heat feels like. and what sleeping in 90 degrees with no AC and oops the power goes out a lot in the summer because of the heat and so no fans...
11) Had a dress made from scratch by a tailor in Lingampally, a town down the road from where I live). Fiasco. Language problem: he spoke not a word of English and so we had to communicate through the usual sign language/Hindi/Telegu. Problem being we wanted him to make us a western style dress, and had him copy my friend's. But being India, obviously, meant we walked in on Tuesday, when he said it would be ready, to find the fabric lying exactly where we had left it on Friday when we asked him to make it. So we yelled and came back the next day, only to find they didn't fit right at all. So I returned the next day to find, once more, my dress in the same state I had left it...So I went to buy new fabric with a small boy who sort of spoke English and I sat in that store while the tailor made me a whole new dress and I waited for 3 hours for him to do it, because clearly each time I left he wouldn't work on it until I came back to pick it up again. This is widely ineffective, but I did it anyways. While there I had an epiphany about my time in India and everything about being here. thinking about what it means to live in this place and get used to seeing toads crushed everywhere on the road, and lizards on the walls everywhere, and ants in the houses, and people staring constantly, and people being so excited about themselves, and the whole culture of laughing at other people, but being incapable of laughing at themselves. All this I was thinking about while this poor man sat and sewed me a new dress (which he thought was a shirt because it is short...) after he had messed up the first one, when only trying his best to make something he had never made before. and he sat there and sewed for me, this white girl who is never going to come back to him, and he didn't do his other work that had to get done, and the entire time I just kept getting angry and mad and yelling and swearing and being blown away by a system that is so unproductive....but he didn't once even look at me in a mean or hostile way, he just did it. And it was so strange. Indians are so nice, and yet they are so mean, and sometimes they really surprise you with how rude they are, and other times it is incredible how easy going they can be.
What a wild experience it has all been. Now 10 more days of traveling and then off to Europe where I will have to patch together some semblance of appropriate clothing to look semi-decent and not hole-ridden and in tatters (which is how all my clothes are from being here). And I will see the Eiffel Tower, and eat cheese and drink wine, and I will dance around Paris and pretend that I am a Polish actress so we can try to get into the Cannes film festival (which is happening in Paris while we are there!!)
So so much to think and write about and still so much to see. I can't believe I'm going to the Taj Mahal and that I get to trek in the Himalayas!! I am beyond excited.
Will try to get to internet cafes along the way to post thoughts as I travel for the next month....If anyone reading this has contacts we could stay with in France or around Europe at all, let me know!
xoxo
sb
Since last writing, mountains of things have happen, of course. I don't actually have the time to write about it all fully, but bullet points for now so that I remember it all later and can write it for real later.
1) Took the yoga exam, which lasted an entire weekend and was beyond frustrating and stupid, but I passed first class, and now I am certified yoga instructor. which hopefully sounds good at a least.
2) Wrote a billion papers and toured the coffee shops of Hyderabad to find a descent place to write them in. Discover of that excursion: coffee shops in India are not conducive for studying because they blast techno music all day long. And they only have one CD, which is just on repeat the whole time. w
3) Went on a weekend trip to visit the Ellora and Ajanta caves which are magnificent. Mind-blowing actually, that they were built/carved so long ago when I can't even imagine how you could construct them using modern equipment. It was one of my favorite places I've been to in India and I will have to devote a lot to describing it fully.
4) Went to cricket game in Hyderabad, which took over 3 hours to get to because it's India. They had brought in cheerleaders from some American football team who danced around every time Hyderabad's team (the Deccan Chargers) got a 4 or 6 (cricket is really weird but I kind of get it now actually). The cheerleaders being there were one of the most disconcerting things I've seen while being here actually because each time they got up, the guys in the crowd would just go crazy and it was just exactly why Indians have this warped view of American girls. And it was just sick looking at these girls who just LOVED the attention. Gross and messed up.
5) Went to this woman's house in Banjara Hills to learn how to cook Biryani which is this rice dish that Hyderabad is famous for. She was adorable and I loved it.
6) Sang kereoke at a "pub" one night.
7) Took some finals, finished classes and turned in papers. Am now finished with the school part of being in India and it feels absolutely amazing!
8) Got so overwhelmed with India and everything about it, that I felt like just screaming. Did scream a bit. Probably at the wrong people. Got amazing advice from my Mother and thought I didn't need it, but it turns out I did and now I am so grateful for the little sentence "do not push off when you leave".
9) Had dinner with my host family for the last 2 night and was amazed at how fun it was. Last night she got ice cream even, which was amazing.
10) Experienced what living in 107 degree heat feels like. and what sleeping in 90 degrees with no AC and oops the power goes out a lot in the summer because of the heat and so no fans...
11) Had a dress made from scratch by a tailor in Lingampally, a town down the road from where I live). Fiasco. Language problem: he spoke not a word of English and so we had to communicate through the usual sign language/Hindi/Telegu. Problem being we wanted him to make us a western style dress, and had him copy my friend's. But being India, obviously, meant we walked in on Tuesday, when he said it would be ready, to find the fabric lying exactly where we had left it on Friday when we asked him to make it. So we yelled and came back the next day, only to find they didn't fit right at all. So I returned the next day to find, once more, my dress in the same state I had left it...So I went to buy new fabric with a small boy who sort of spoke English and I sat in that store while the tailor made me a whole new dress and I waited for 3 hours for him to do it, because clearly each time I left he wouldn't work on it until I came back to pick it up again. This is widely ineffective, but I did it anyways. While there I had an epiphany about my time in India and everything about being here. thinking about what it means to live in this place and get used to seeing toads crushed everywhere on the road, and lizards on the walls everywhere, and ants in the houses, and people staring constantly, and people being so excited about themselves, and the whole culture of laughing at other people, but being incapable of laughing at themselves. All this I was thinking about while this poor man sat and sewed me a new dress (which he thought was a shirt because it is short...) after he had messed up the first one, when only trying his best to make something he had never made before. and he sat there and sewed for me, this white girl who is never going to come back to him, and he didn't do his other work that had to get done, and the entire time I just kept getting angry and mad and yelling and swearing and being blown away by a system that is so unproductive....but he didn't once even look at me in a mean or hostile way, he just did it. And it was so strange. Indians are so nice, and yet they are so mean, and sometimes they really surprise you with how rude they are, and other times it is incredible how easy going they can be.
What a wild experience it has all been. Now 10 more days of traveling and then off to Europe where I will have to patch together some semblance of appropriate clothing to look semi-decent and not hole-ridden and in tatters (which is how all my clothes are from being here). And I will see the Eiffel Tower, and eat cheese and drink wine, and I will dance around Paris and pretend that I am a Polish actress so we can try to get into the Cannes film festival (which is happening in Paris while we are there!!)
So so much to think and write about and still so much to see. I can't believe I'm going to the Taj Mahal and that I get to trek in the Himalayas!! I am beyond excited.
Will try to get to internet cafes along the way to post thoughts as I travel for the next month....If anyone reading this has contacts we could stay with in France or around Europe at all, let me know!
xoxo
sb
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Mysore, +
Hello blogger! Yesterday was the 3 month marker on my time in India. Only a little over 1 more. It feels unreal that I've been here only 3 months. It feels like it's been much more. I'm so glad of the time I still have. And this month is going to be fun, and full of trips, to the North (to see the Ganges, the Taj Mahal, Kolkata, and the Himalayas. and MamaJ does say it right. kudos acknowledged.) Amazingly classes and projects seem to be wrapping up here, which is funny because it honestly feels like I've just started to get into what I'm learning. I still have some to go, but one of classes, for instance, isn't meeting anymore until our final at the end of April...
Many things have happened lately. Last weekend CIEE took us on another trip, all 30 of us, to Mysore and Bangalore this time. Both are places to the west of Hyderabad, and I liked them a lot, more than Hyderabad in many ways in fact. We went to a Tibetan Resettlement Community for refugees fleeing Tibet, where this man told us all about their community. Tibetans are not Indian citizens unless they officially apply for citizenship, and instead they have to reapply for visitor-settled visas each year. The community, and others like it all over India, were given a certain amount of land back when China invaded Tibet, and they have established their own schools and temples, monasteries, state and government, etc. It's so so really interesting how they have continued to have a country exist, just resettled in a totally different location, AND they are all spread out all across India. They told us how they are always thinking about going home, always seeking and reminding themselves of how they are only visiting India until they get Tibet back--that seems a weird way to put it, but literally that is the only way I can think of putting it. They are not about to "take it back, because it's all about nonviolence, so they are just waiting for China to get the hell out! it's complicated, obviously and I don't know enough about it yet. We were told that at first the fleeing Tibetans who came to India didn't want to build sturdy or good homes, or buy too much food because they thought it would go to waste since they didn't expect to be in India for too long. That was 40 years ago. And they still are waiting, just using the area given to them by the Indian government, hoping always to get to go home.
Later we went to one of their Buddhist monasteries, which is full of all Tibetan men, dressed in the traditional maroon and yellow robes, shaved heads, no shoes. Candles everywhere, temples with giant Buddha statues. It felt like a trip to a totally different country, and in a way that is what we were doing. That is the point of these resettlement communities: it is Tibet just on a different plot of land. It has the culture, the food, the religion, the people, the customs, the language, the agriculture, the buildings, all of it is Tibetan, just in India. The whole place had a wonderful feel to it, so peaceful and relaxing. Really amazing. It made me wish I had actually done thathet Buddhist monastery semester abroad in Dharmasala...but I can still do that another trip. I realized simultaneously that if I were to go live in a Buddhist monastery for 5 months I would have to change so much of the craziness in myself, and get more calm, and relaxed. And while I am sure that one day I will do that and it will be great, I'm not actually ready to give up the insanity of my mind just yet. I'm only 21. I don't need to be quiet and peaceful and one with the universe just yet. maybe later. maybe.
We also went to a temple town, saw a lot of poop on the ground, and walked around a cute, small town area in the rain. Later that day we celebrated Holi. Holi is a national holiday in India. It is not associated with any one religion, but is in fact one of the coolest spiritual festivals. During Holi all of India comes out to the streets wearing white clothes, to spray and smear each other with colored water, and to throw colors of pigment onto each other. The idea behind Holi is that by putting color on someone else you are erasing the lines of skin color that divide us. In India that is a really strong message because of the history here of so many types of people, religions, races, and groups--all living together. The belief is that if you put colors on your enemy during Holi all the past hatred between you is to be forgotten and you are to be friends from then on. I like this idea so much. It is a holiday that seems to capture what I love about how tolerant Indian culture is.
We played Holi at our hotel in the street with all us white kids, and of course locals came to "watch" but we chased them with buckets of water and some of them joined in to play with us. CIEE had organized for these traditional drummers to come and play while we played. So it was like this giant colored water fight-dance party! It was such a blast and of course, being Americans we took it probably farther than usual and starting dumping whole buckets on each other and getting the packets of color pigment and throwing the powder on each other. It was amazing.
The next day was Easter and they took us to a church in Mysore. Of course I had the wrong idea of church here. It's so ingrained in me to think of churches representing a quiet place of spirituality. WRONG. Even though I've been to a church here already, I was still shocked to find it draped in streamers, with really loud music blasting from giant speakers on the inside and outside, crazy tiny lights everywhere inside, and SO SO SO many people. and Mary wears a sari.
It was a crazy weekend of thinking about how India sees spirituality. There was the quietness of the Buddhists, a place I felt so comfortable just sitting in and thinking in quiet; there was the insanity of the Hindu temple with all the incense, flowers colored dust and pushing people with babies in their arms; and there was the equally jostling church covered in streamers, loud music blasting, and Mary in a sari. I realized how here in India religion, like everything else, is not a private affair. I think of being spiritual as this time when we can sit and think and be alone with our thoughts. But here, there are just so many people that it is unrealistic to assume that you are ever going to get a moment of quietness alone in a temple where you could 'see' GOD! that seems ridiculous actually, that such quiet contemplation could happen frequently in one of the churches or temples I've been to so far...So instead people here have at to adapt their spirituality and religion so that they are able to feel that unity with their beliefs even in 100 degree heat, with music blasting, surrounded by a hundred people all pushing to get close to the shrine.
That weekend was very auspicious. That is a favorite word in India. Everything is auspicious. But really, last weekend was a crazy combination of so many things happening at once. It was a full moon. And it was the prophet Mohammed's birthday. And it was Holi. and it was Good Friday and Easter. And it was a Jewish holiday I can't remember the name is. And it was a new year celebration in another culture I also can't remember. If that isn't auspicious, I don't know what is.
So that was the weekend. And now it's been another week, where some friends from CIEE and other university students put on the Vagina Monologues, which was amazing to watch in India. I had thought it would just be another production, but it was really remarkable to watch and hear it in the context of this country. It was the first time I've ever heard an Indian accent say the word 'vagina' which is strange in itself. It was really powerful and meant a lot that it was put on here on our campus. It had a different ring to it, femininity in the context of the VMons in INdia is like talking about something so hushed up and quiet its become habit to pretend it does not exist in any form. It was really powerful to have the topic spoken about in the open within the context of this culture.
And now it's the weekend and I did work the whole time. WHAT? Yes, homework. At coffee shops around Hyderabad, where they only serve the intense drinks--can't seem to get a simple iced coffee, and where they play techno music at full volume all day. And serve overly intense chocolate cake. India is so proud of itself when it is able to have all this stuff at once. So it does it. If you could have a coffee blended with ice and ice cream and whipped cream and chocolate syrup, WHY would you ever want a simple iced coffee???
Good question, India, good question.
Many things have happened lately. Last weekend CIEE took us on another trip, all 30 of us, to Mysore and Bangalore this time. Both are places to the west of Hyderabad, and I liked them a lot, more than Hyderabad in many ways in fact. We went to a Tibetan Resettlement Community for refugees fleeing Tibet, where this man told us all about their community. Tibetans are not Indian citizens unless they officially apply for citizenship, and instead they have to reapply for visitor-settled visas each year. The community, and others like it all over India, were given a certain amount of land back when China invaded Tibet, and they have established their own schools and temples, monasteries, state and government, etc. It's so so really interesting how they have continued to have a country exist, just resettled in a totally different location, AND they are all spread out all across India. They told us how they are always thinking about going home, always seeking and reminding themselves of how they are only visiting India until they get Tibet back--that seems a weird way to put it, but literally that is the only way I can think of putting it. They are not about to "take it back, because it's all about nonviolence, so they are just waiting for China to get the hell out! it's complicated, obviously and I don't know enough about it yet. We were told that at first the fleeing Tibetans who came to India didn't want to build sturdy or good homes, or buy too much food because they thought it would go to waste since they didn't expect to be in India for too long. That was 40 years ago. And they still are waiting, just using the area given to them by the Indian government, hoping always to get to go home.
Later we went to one of their Buddhist monasteries, which is full of all Tibetan men, dressed in the traditional maroon and yellow robes, shaved heads, no shoes. Candles everywhere, temples with giant Buddha statues. It felt like a trip to a totally different country, and in a way that is what we were doing. That is the point of these resettlement communities: it is Tibet just on a different plot of land. It has the culture, the food, the religion, the people, the customs, the language, the agriculture, the buildings, all of it is Tibetan, just in India. The whole place had a wonderful feel to it, so peaceful and relaxing. Really amazing. It made me wish I had actually done thathet Buddhist monastery semester abroad in Dharmasala...but I can still do that another trip. I realized simultaneously that if I were to go live in a Buddhist monastery for 5 months I would have to change so much of the craziness in myself, and get more calm, and relaxed. And while I am sure that one day I will do that and it will be great, I'm not actually ready to give up the insanity of my mind just yet. I'm only 21. I don't need to be quiet and peaceful and one with the universe just yet. maybe later. maybe.
We also went to a temple town, saw a lot of poop on the ground, and walked around a cute, small town area in the rain. Later that day we celebrated Holi. Holi is a national holiday in India. It is not associated with any one religion, but is in fact one of the coolest spiritual festivals. During Holi all of India comes out to the streets wearing white clothes, to spray and smear each other with colored water, and to throw colors of pigment onto each other. The idea behind Holi is that by putting color on someone else you are erasing the lines of skin color that divide us. In India that is a really strong message because of the history here of so many types of people, religions, races, and groups--all living together. The belief is that if you put colors on your enemy during Holi all the past hatred between you is to be forgotten and you are to be friends from then on. I like this idea so much. It is a holiday that seems to capture what I love about how tolerant Indian culture is.
We played Holi at our hotel in the street with all us white kids, and of course locals came to "watch" but we chased them with buckets of water and some of them joined in to play with us. CIEE had organized for these traditional drummers to come and play while we played. So it was like this giant colored water fight-dance party! It was such a blast and of course, being Americans we took it probably farther than usual and starting dumping whole buckets on each other and getting the packets of color pigment and throwing the powder on each other. It was amazing.
The next day was Easter and they took us to a church in Mysore. Of course I had the wrong idea of church here. It's so ingrained in me to think of churches representing a quiet place of spirituality. WRONG. Even though I've been to a church here already, I was still shocked to find it draped in streamers, with really loud music blasting from giant speakers on the inside and outside, crazy tiny lights everywhere inside, and SO SO SO many people. and Mary wears a sari.
It was a crazy weekend of thinking about how India sees spirituality. There was the quietness of the Buddhists, a place I felt so comfortable just sitting in and thinking in quiet; there was the insanity of the Hindu temple with all the incense, flowers colored dust and pushing people with babies in their arms; and there was the equally jostling church covered in streamers, loud music blasting, and Mary in a sari. I realized how here in India religion, like everything else, is not a private affair. I think of being spiritual as this time when we can sit and think and be alone with our thoughts. But here, there are just so many people that it is unrealistic to assume that you are ever going to get a moment of quietness alone in a temple where you could 'see' GOD! that seems ridiculous actually, that such quiet contemplation could happen frequently in one of the churches or temples I've been to so far...So instead people here have at to adapt their spirituality and religion so that they are able to feel that unity with their beliefs even in 100 degree heat, with music blasting, surrounded by a hundred people all pushing to get close to the shrine.
That weekend was very auspicious. That is a favorite word in India. Everything is auspicious. But really, last weekend was a crazy combination of so many things happening at once. It was a full moon. And it was the prophet Mohammed's birthday. And it was Holi. and it was Good Friday and Easter. And it was a Jewish holiday I can't remember the name is. And it was a new year celebration in another culture I also can't remember. If that isn't auspicious, I don't know what is.
So that was the weekend. And now it's been another week, where some friends from CIEE and other university students put on the Vagina Monologues, which was amazing to watch in India. I had thought it would just be another production, but it was really remarkable to watch and hear it in the context of this country. It was the first time I've ever heard an Indian accent say the word 'vagina' which is strange in itself. It was really powerful and meant a lot that it was put on here on our campus. It had a different ring to it, femininity in the context of the VMons in INdia is like talking about something so hushed up and quiet its become habit to pretend it does not exist in any form. It was really powerful to have the topic spoken about in the open within the context of this culture.
And now it's the weekend and I did work the whole time. WHAT? Yes, homework. At coffee shops around Hyderabad, where they only serve the intense drinks--can't seem to get a simple iced coffee, and where they play techno music at full volume all day. And serve overly intense chocolate cake. India is so proud of itself when it is able to have all this stuff at once. So it does it. If you could have a coffee blended with ice and ice cream and whipped cream and chocolate syrup, WHY would you ever want a simple iced coffee???
Good question, India, good question.
Monday, March 17, 2008
9 more things about India
1) On the newest 1 rupee coin is printed a hand giving the thumbs up. On the 2 rupee coin is printed a hand giving the peace sign. There are lightshows in everything here, even in government institutions, like coinage. By this I mean that someon had to say, "Hey I have a great idea, let's put the thumbs up and peace sign on our money!" and everyone agreed.
2) Entire families ride on one motorcycle through overcrowded streets. By this, I mean: the father drives, the mother sits behind him, holding a tiny baby in her arms. Between them is a girl sleeping smushed between her parents. And sometimes, there's even another person behind the mother. This is a regular motorcycle, no bigger than any we have in the US. OR one bike with 4 grown men on it, sometimes sitting backwards to keep from falling off.
3) When I get a package here, it comes after a long time of course. When it finally reaches my hands it looks like it's been through a war. It is falling apart, and the tape is coming off. In fact, there is a stamp on it that reads "Examined" and "Free." So, at some point, my package was opened up, examined, shifted through, put back together, but then instead of re-taping it, they tie it up with knotted rope. Then (for quality purposes? security purposes?) they drip melted wax or tar (more likely tar) and stamp it over the rope--old school letter style. So I get my package and it is devastated, and and it has been tied up in rope, and each side of rope has a tar seal on it...COOL
4) The amazing names of stores (like Light and Lights), mistaken words on menus (like pouched eggs), and unbelievable pictures of terrifyingly happy children, etc.
5) The entire experience of going to the movie theater here. Movie theaters in Hyderabad are like being transported to the US but only partially. 4 or 5 floors, with subways and maybe even pizza!! and coffee and cookies and ice cream. And now it gets good: a rock climbing wall. and a check your blood pressure, your sugar levels, and your mood machines. and an LG retail store. and a Haunted House (which reads: This is a copyrighted haunted institution, on the sign). The process of ordering food, also deserves a note here. Instead of just going up to order what you want, you have to go to the other side of the room to order with the cashier and pay him. Then another man gives you your ticket and you bring it over to the other side where the food is and you hand one man the ticket, and he yells out to another man, who comes and takes the ticket. And then he gives it to the actual food man, who gets what you want, who brings it to the first man at the food counter who gives it to you. We are all convinced that this whole process is somehow a combination of two factors. One, it is efficient ONLY in the sense that it is all very organized, yet goes so far in such a classically overachieving Indian way that it all falls apart. And two, it gives more people more jobs...
6) Our adventures with ordering coffee at Cafe Coffee Day, which is a chain coffee store in India. First of all, we order 3 black coffees and 2 vegan shakes. On the menu it says: black coffee: double shot of espresso with hot water, with milk on the side; and it reads, vegan shake: milk not your thing? no problem with our non-dairy shake. So she brings us 3 espresso shots with no milk, and (get this) iced coffe with whipped cream and ice cream as the vegan shakes. So we say, these are supposed to not have milk. and she says, "o they don't have milk. they have whipped cream" oh ok. and our coffees, "no we don't have black coffee, we only have espresso shots and no you can't get milk with it" BUT IT'S A COFFEE SHOP! thanks India!!
7) KOPPHEECHAIIII KOPPHEEECHAIIII. This is what train sellers say in a nazalized voice ALL 27 hours of the train ride. This means: Coffee (which has morphed into kop-heee) and Chai (tea) together. loudly. all the time. they are trying to sell coffee and tea.
8) Hot tea in 95 degree weather
9) Adorable things that professors say by accident or mistranslated. Like, "give me a little tinkle" (call him in the phone), "the phenomenon of the hugging of the trees" (for tree-huggers), and suitable pronounced "sweetable"
2) Entire families ride on one motorcycle through overcrowded streets. By this, I mean: the father drives, the mother sits behind him, holding a tiny baby in her arms. Between them is a girl sleeping smushed between her parents. And sometimes, there's even another person behind the mother. This is a regular motorcycle, no bigger than any we have in the US. OR one bike with 4 grown men on it, sometimes sitting backwards to keep from falling off.
3) When I get a package here, it comes after a long time of course. When it finally reaches my hands it looks like it's been through a war. It is falling apart, and the tape is coming off. In fact, there is a stamp on it that reads "Examined" and "Free." So, at some point, my package was opened up, examined, shifted through, put back together, but then instead of re-taping it, they tie it up with knotted rope. Then (for quality purposes? security purposes?) they drip melted wax or tar (more likely tar) and stamp it over the rope--old school letter style. So I get my package and it is devastated, and and it has been tied up in rope, and each side of rope has a tar seal on it...COOL
4) The amazing names of stores (like Light and Lights), mistaken words on menus (like pouched eggs), and unbelievable pictures of terrifyingly happy children, etc.
5) The entire experience of going to the movie theater here. Movie theaters in Hyderabad are like being transported to the US but only partially. 4 or 5 floors, with subways and maybe even pizza!! and coffee and cookies and ice cream. And now it gets good: a rock climbing wall. and a check your blood pressure, your sugar levels, and your mood machines. and an LG retail store. and a Haunted House (which reads: This is a copyrighted haunted institution, on the sign). The process of ordering food, also deserves a note here. Instead of just going up to order what you want, you have to go to the other side of the room to order with the cashier and pay him. Then another man gives you your ticket and you bring it over to the other side where the food is and you hand one man the ticket, and he yells out to another man, who comes and takes the ticket. And then he gives it to the actual food man, who gets what you want, who brings it to the first man at the food counter who gives it to you. We are all convinced that this whole process is somehow a combination of two factors. One, it is efficient ONLY in the sense that it is all very organized, yet goes so far in such a classically overachieving Indian way that it all falls apart. And two, it gives more people more jobs...
6) Our adventures with ordering coffee at Cafe Coffee Day, which is a chain coffee store in India. First of all, we order 3 black coffees and 2 vegan shakes. On the menu it says: black coffee: double shot of espresso with hot water, with milk on the side; and it reads, vegan shake: milk not your thing? no problem with our non-dairy shake. So she brings us 3 espresso shots with no milk, and (get this) iced coffe with whipped cream and ice cream as the vegan shakes. So we say, these are supposed to not have milk. and she says, "o they don't have milk. they have whipped cream" oh ok. and our coffees, "no we don't have black coffee, we only have espresso shots and no you can't get milk with it" BUT IT'S A COFFEE SHOP! thanks India!!
7) KOPPHEECHAIIII KOPPHEEECHAIIII. This is what train sellers say in a nazalized voice ALL 27 hours of the train ride. This means: Coffee (which has morphed into kop-heee) and Chai (tea) together. loudly. all the time. they are trying to sell coffee and tea.
8) Hot tea in 95 degree weather
9) Adorable things that professors say by accident or mistranslated. Like, "give me a little tinkle" (call him in the phone), "the phenomenon of the hugging of the trees" (for tree-huggers), and suitable pronounced "sweetable"
Friday, March 14, 2008
Kerala, part II: Munnar
On the morning of 4 March (the most commanding day of the year, and my wonderful mother's birthday!) we woke up early, left our new Mr. Das to pile into a white 1950's looking olds-mobile (is that even a kind of car?) with Augustine (father figure number 2), our hired driver for the day. We had hired him to drive us out east from the coast towards the mountains and hill areas near the town of Munnar. He stopped along the way at various natural spots, like a waterfall (where we clmbed around huge rocks for about an hour), a spice plantation (where we saw Eucalyptus trees and ate passion fruit! Kenya!!, and tasted all sorts of spices and herbs), and many grand landscape views. Augustine was great to have because he was able to take us wherever we wanted to go, whenever we wanted to go (on top of which, the roads in Munnar and the surrounding area are so windy, being in a bus is just terrifying). Augustine took us to a homestay, owned by father figure number 3, named George. George himself came to take us in his jeep the very steep and muddy quarter of a mile from the road and his home. Our room looked out from the middle of a hill; and across the valley, there were rolling hills covered in tea plants, and beyond that, mountains. mountains mountains!
Munnar grows the tea of the world. It certainly grows a majority of India's tea, as well as much of the exported products. The tea plants are never ending: they are bright green, and all cut short and flat. Dotted within the fields are workers who spend all day walking up and down the extremely steep slopes cutting the newly grown tea leaves. Augustine took us to a tea factory, (made particularly easy to follow as it was geared for tourists) which was fascinating, because it showed how tea had been introduced to India.
We stayed with George, and for no reason except that he was amazing, George gave us an extra room for no cost! His homestay was the nicest we stayed at, and though it took some convincing, when we realized that even this "pricey" place was actually costing us $6 each a night, it became a non-question about finding a new place. The next morning we all woke up at 5:30 to watch the sun rise over the mountain across the valley and to do yoga on the roof. We were, in fact, too early for the sun at that time, and then slept through yoga time. But it was a valiant effort. At around 10am we met a new figure in our lives. His name is Joseph. He, like all these Christian named men, is an Indian, but the first and only so far, Indian to have a lisp. It was adorable. And he didn't speak much English at all. He was to be our guide up the mountain, which we decided would be our activity of the first part of the day. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into.
There seems to be something about me and mountain climbs in foreign countries, being guided by native Christian-named men who speak poor english, with some type of speech issue (think Grandpa, Christopher, going up Mt. Kenya). And, just as Mt. Kenya was way more intense than I had ever anticipated, our hike/climb was certainly more than we thought we were getting into. We started off, 3 liters of water for 6 people for the "4 hour" hike, in our hands, all armed with nothing but the clothing we were wearing, a few cameras, and sandals. Yes, sandals for most of us. Indeed, Davita and I wore our chokos (I am true convert now, and am planning on becoming a sponsored advertiser for the wonderful brand of all purpose shoe made by the one and only Choko company). And so we began. We went up into a treehouse where we could stay for lots of money, we hiked steep inclined paths through the forest. Mallory lost her sunglasses somewhere in the jungle. we were sweating by 10 minutes in. And Joseph was leaping ahead, wearing a lungi (a cloth tied around his waste, tradition in Kerala) and cheap sandals.
Joseph needs some explaining in fact. Not only was his name Joseph. not only did he only wear a lungi and cheap sandals, not only did he have a lisp and poor english comprehension. not only was he our guide up a mountain, which turned out to not to have trails that we followed. he also jumped up vertical rocks like he had Frank's grippy toes, trotted down vertical dirt avalanches, and sprinted up waist high lemon-grass covered hills that had no foot holds, he also only had one cup of coffee all day, and he also smoked cigarettes.
So. yes, after the jungle we just went higher, and it got harder. Going through lemongrass fields/slopes, that don't have places for your feet, and then out of the tall grass, and onto the planes, where there are crop fields actually growing food on the steep side of the mountain. It looked like a normal field where crops might be grown (tho nothing was), that had just been tipped 90 degrees, and was now vertical. Still, even in the heat and my exhaustion, I do remember putting my hand into the hot, dry soil and thinking wow! that feeling of true dirt reminded me so much of all the farming I've done. It felt amazing, nothing like the way dry soil feels on dry hands, especially when you're hiking up a mountain in India! We soon realized that we had not brought enough water. not at all. Joseph took one of our empty bottles and filled with stream water that was falling down the mountain side, but we all declined, of course, knowing the dangers that unfiltered water can have on our frail American immune systems. Yet, by the time we had reached the top, all of us (except Olga) were drinking that stream water. And who knows if it has given us all a thousand and one diseases, or if it was flowing over elephant poop, but we drank it, unpurified, unfiltered, didn't even add iodine tablets (because oh right, I left mine down at George's house!). I think we're fine from the water, actually because it was probably the cleaned we could get, besides bottled or filtered of course. It was running water from a little stream and it was delicious, and somewhat murky but necessary because I think we would have all started going crazy if we hadn't had it. Needless to say, we took about 6.5 hours to do the whole hike, and were so hungry and thirsty by the time we reached the bottom, we had to take an auto the 2km back to our homestay from the base of the mountain.
The hike itself was breathtakingly beautiful. When we first got to Munnar I saw these huge mountains surrounding us on all sides, and I saw the ridges that connect the peaks together and I said, that is where I want to be. walking along those ridges. And then we were there! It is so open in Munnar, and for once you can finally see farther than just two peaks away, because there isn't that terrible pollution of the cities. It was so refreshing to be up around the peaks of the mountains for change.
The next day we hired an auto to take us to the Chinar Wildlife Sanctuary. Driving through the mountains take so much longer of course because we had to wind up and wind down, and go over and in and out and then finally we were there. Our guide's name was Bajin, he was a tribesman, who wore a full green uniform, and flipflops. He hunted down five wild elephants just by listening to the sounds of them eating in the far far distance. It was really remarkable.
We spent our last day at a beach back near Fort Cochin, which was fun--though draining because where there aren't many tourists, being at a beach is just a chance for people to stare at us more than ever. We were smart about it, but still it's exhausting when you can't really enjoy the beach because there are people just sitting on the rocks nearby doing nothing but watching us.
Getting back of course was another 27 hour train ride. It was pretty much a fiasco of feeling bombarded by people asking us "which country are you coming from?" and other the like. Many people here do not pick up on the very obvious fact that we don't want to talk to them. A perfect example was when this guy sat down on our bench on the train, squishing us all, sitting too close (because the whole idea of a "personal bubble" is not applicable here), and asks us all these questions about where we are from, what our names are, etc. We politely respond when necessary, and then (best solution we've found yet), we all pick up our books and start reading. Of course, this one guy then sits there, staring and then pokes me saying, "um sophia, um sophia. you're boring me with your reading." And I look back at him and WANT to say, "oh really? well I didn't know it was my job to entertain you!" but instead say, "o well I'm very interested in my book, so I'm going to read now." It is funny in retrospect, and even at the time, it is funny somewhat. But it is also just so draining and annoying and it never ends. It gets almost unbearable at times, to be honest.
I've been thinking more and more about the trash situation here. Traditional Indian culture wraps their food and eats everything off banana leaves. This is a completely natural way of packaging and eating. In the past then, when everyone used banana leaves, throwing them away at the end wouldn't matter because they would all decompose no problem, wherever they landed. It is just with the introduction of plastic and tin and foil that the issue becomes problematic. This is all very obvious, but I think what I've realized specifically when I see the train people passing out lunches and dinners in foil containers, and then not even providing ANY means for dealing with the wasted containers, that people have continued to deal with trash as if it were still all banana leaves. But it isn't. And so all the trains every day have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus all snack packaging and all water bottles thrown out the windows onto the areas around the railways. I am surprised now, that there is even an inch of ground NOT covered in plastic and trash.
I'm sick of writing now.
pictures are up...more to come.
Munnar grows the tea of the world. It certainly grows a majority of India's tea, as well as much of the exported products. The tea plants are never ending: they are bright green, and all cut short and flat. Dotted within the fields are workers who spend all day walking up and down the extremely steep slopes cutting the newly grown tea leaves. Augustine took us to a tea factory, (made particularly easy to follow as it was geared for tourists) which was fascinating, because it showed how tea had been introduced to India.
We stayed with George, and for no reason except that he was amazing, George gave us an extra room for no cost! His homestay was the nicest we stayed at, and though it took some convincing, when we realized that even this "pricey" place was actually costing us $6 each a night, it became a non-question about finding a new place. The next morning we all woke up at 5:30 to watch the sun rise over the mountain across the valley and to do yoga on the roof. We were, in fact, too early for the sun at that time, and then slept through yoga time. But it was a valiant effort. At around 10am we met a new figure in our lives. His name is Joseph. He, like all these Christian named men, is an Indian, but the first and only so far, Indian to have a lisp. It was adorable. And he didn't speak much English at all. He was to be our guide up the mountain, which we decided would be our activity of the first part of the day. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into.
There seems to be something about me and mountain climbs in foreign countries, being guided by native Christian-named men who speak poor english, with some type of speech issue (think Grandpa, Christopher, going up Mt. Kenya). And, just as Mt. Kenya was way more intense than I had ever anticipated, our hike/climb was certainly more than we thought we were getting into. We started off, 3 liters of water for 6 people for the "4 hour" hike, in our hands, all armed with nothing but the clothing we were wearing, a few cameras, and sandals. Yes, sandals for most of us. Indeed, Davita and I wore our chokos (I am true convert now, and am planning on becoming a sponsored advertiser for the wonderful brand of all purpose shoe made by the one and only Choko company). And so we began. We went up into a treehouse where we could stay for lots of money, we hiked steep inclined paths through the forest. Mallory lost her sunglasses somewhere in the jungle. we were sweating by 10 minutes in. And Joseph was leaping ahead, wearing a lungi (a cloth tied around his waste, tradition in Kerala) and cheap sandals.
Joseph needs some explaining in fact. Not only was his name Joseph. not only did he only wear a lungi and cheap sandals, not only did he have a lisp and poor english comprehension. not only was he our guide up a mountain, which turned out to not to have trails that we followed. he also jumped up vertical rocks like he had Frank's grippy toes, trotted down vertical dirt avalanches, and sprinted up waist high lemon-grass covered hills that had no foot holds, he also only had one cup of coffee all day, and he also smoked cigarettes.
So. yes, after the jungle we just went higher, and it got harder. Going through lemongrass fields/slopes, that don't have places for your feet, and then out of the tall grass, and onto the planes, where there are crop fields actually growing food on the steep side of the mountain. It looked like a normal field where crops might be grown (tho nothing was), that had just been tipped 90 degrees, and was now vertical. Still, even in the heat and my exhaustion, I do remember putting my hand into the hot, dry soil and thinking wow! that feeling of true dirt reminded me so much of all the farming I've done. It felt amazing, nothing like the way dry soil feels on dry hands, especially when you're hiking up a mountain in India! We soon realized that we had not brought enough water. not at all. Joseph took one of our empty bottles and filled with stream water that was falling down the mountain side, but we all declined, of course, knowing the dangers that unfiltered water can have on our frail American immune systems. Yet, by the time we had reached the top, all of us (except Olga) were drinking that stream water. And who knows if it has given us all a thousand and one diseases, or if it was flowing over elephant poop, but we drank it, unpurified, unfiltered, didn't even add iodine tablets (because oh right, I left mine down at George's house!). I think we're fine from the water, actually because it was probably the cleaned we could get, besides bottled or filtered of course. It was running water from a little stream and it was delicious, and somewhat murky but necessary because I think we would have all started going crazy if we hadn't had it. Needless to say, we took about 6.5 hours to do the whole hike, and were so hungry and thirsty by the time we reached the bottom, we had to take an auto the 2km back to our homestay from the base of the mountain.
The hike itself was breathtakingly beautiful. When we first got to Munnar I saw these huge mountains surrounding us on all sides, and I saw the ridges that connect the peaks together and I said, that is where I want to be. walking along those ridges. And then we were there! It is so open in Munnar, and for once you can finally see farther than just two peaks away, because there isn't that terrible pollution of the cities. It was so refreshing to be up around the peaks of the mountains for change.
The next day we hired an auto to take us to the Chinar Wildlife Sanctuary. Driving through the mountains take so much longer of course because we had to wind up and wind down, and go over and in and out and then finally we were there. Our guide's name was Bajin, he was a tribesman, who wore a full green uniform, and flipflops. He hunted down five wild elephants just by listening to the sounds of them eating in the far far distance. It was really remarkable.
We spent our last day at a beach back near Fort Cochin, which was fun--though draining because where there aren't many tourists, being at a beach is just a chance for people to stare at us more than ever. We were smart about it, but still it's exhausting when you can't really enjoy the beach because there are people just sitting on the rocks nearby doing nothing but watching us.
Getting back of course was another 27 hour train ride. It was pretty much a fiasco of feeling bombarded by people asking us "which country are you coming from?" and other the like. Many people here do not pick up on the very obvious fact that we don't want to talk to them. A perfect example was when this guy sat down on our bench on the train, squishing us all, sitting too close (because the whole idea of a "personal bubble" is not applicable here), and asks us all these questions about where we are from, what our names are, etc. We politely respond when necessary, and then (best solution we've found yet), we all pick up our books and start reading. Of course, this one guy then sits there, staring and then pokes me saying, "um sophia, um sophia. you're boring me with your reading." And I look back at him and WANT to say, "oh really? well I didn't know it was my job to entertain you!" but instead say, "o well I'm very interested in my book, so I'm going to read now." It is funny in retrospect, and even at the time, it is funny somewhat. But it is also just so draining and annoying and it never ends. It gets almost unbearable at times, to be honest.
I've been thinking more and more about the trash situation here. Traditional Indian culture wraps their food and eats everything off banana leaves. This is a completely natural way of packaging and eating. In the past then, when everyone used banana leaves, throwing them away at the end wouldn't matter because they would all decompose no problem, wherever they landed. It is just with the introduction of plastic and tin and foil that the issue becomes problematic. This is all very obvious, but I think what I've realized specifically when I see the train people passing out lunches and dinners in foil containers, and then not even providing ANY means for dealing with the wasted containers, that people have continued to deal with trash as if it were still all banana leaves. But it isn't. And so all the trains every day have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus all snack packaging and all water bottles thrown out the windows onto the areas around the railways. I am surprised now, that there is even an inch of ground NOT covered in plastic and trash.
I'm sick of writing now.
pictures are up...more to come.
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