With the release of the Julia Roberts movie, Eat, Pray, Love just around the corner, it seems fitting that I'm here in Ubud (where the Love part of the story takes place). Here, the book of the same name that is the inspiration for the film is only known as "That Damn Book". I tried to think of some clever way to title this blog entry accordingly, but I just couldn't seem to fit any Praying or Loving into the post itself- only eating!
What Ubud lacks in street food (I only manged to eat it once, and it was mystery meat on a stick), it makes up for in expat hippie organic bakeries, coffee shops and cafes. I have been eating salads, pasta, pecan pie, salads (!!), milkshakes, sandwiches, banana pancakes, soups, french fries, cakes, and my new fav thing to eat, gado-gado (steamed green beans, cabbage, bean sprouts, tofu, tempe all smothered in peanut sauce). It's like we are just passing time until we can eat again. I love it. Now, barring Buddy's pizza and coney island tuna greek salads, there's no culinary reason for me to come home! But I'll still come home, don't worry.
Of note, I did eat suckling pig, which I didn't really enjoy but had to try to finish anyways so as not to be rude. I ate the meat and the skin and something else quite chewy but drew the line at what I knew was the intestines! Wait to you see the pics!
I've been making friends left and right. But the best people I met, and probably why I've been having so much fun for the last few days, are Hayley and Dom, an English couple who are 10 months into their year abroad in Southeast Asia. Hayley possibly likes to eat more than me (but it's close!) and the most stressful part of our day is deciding where to eat dinner and then what to order. Egging each other on, we've managed to throw our budgets out the window! Oh, this is definitely no MakeTheTrip! They're a lot of fun and they know and love India too, so we have that in common as well.
I've been watching the World Cup which has been fun since there are so many foreigners here. That call on the third goal in the US Slovenia game was bullshit and we all know it! Incidentally, Ubud has it's own football tourney going on as well (where I had the mystery meat on stick) which has caused quite some commotion around town. I'm looking forward to watching the US Algeria match Stateside on Weds morning!!
I fly out tonight at 120am- see you soon!!!
PS- Happy Father's Day, Dad!!! Miss you xoxoxoxox
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes..
So, I show up on the small small island of Nusa Penida looking for the teacher/artist, Sue, I met in the coffee shop in Ubud. I took the 530am public boat from pricey Nusa Lembongan, where I stayed the night before. Once again, I was back to being the only white person. I found the diving place where Sue told me to go, but she was no where in site and no one knew anything about her arrival. I hung around, had breakfast, took a nap, and generally tried not to get in anyone's way.
Eventually, Sue, and her Balinese friend Yusi, hoped onto the island and met me at the warung where I was eating lunch. After chatting and eating, we headed over to the after school library the two of them run (funded by the diving shop next store). Sue and Yusi have a great partnership. Yusi, the most bold, outspoken Balinese woman I've ever seen, had the idea and local connections and ambition to start up the library, but doesn't really like kids! Sue, a strong passionate teacher/artist with a huge smile, loves teaching kids and definitely has a way with them. This session was kind of last minute, so we just reviewed colors, body parts, days of the week and animal names and noises with the kids (in Bali, a rooster doesn't say "cock-a-doodle-doo" but "co-ca-ro-ko"). And we sang head, shoulders, knees and toes (HSKT)...over and over.
I stayed the night in the volunteer housing (room with bunk beds) provided by the dive shop with Sue and Yusi. The next day we took the boat back to Lembongan (Yusi drove this time- kind of) where we went to another, more organized, afterschool program. Here, we not only sang HSKT, we also did the hokey pokey and played a kind of chirades! Overall, it was great fun but surpirsingly tiring! Kudos to anyone who seriously works with kids. After watching the sunset and enjoying a fresh caught grilled fish dinner with some more new friends, I realized I still needed more relaxing time in Bali and decided to catch the morning boat back to the mainland.
I'm so glad to have met these strong inspiring women and have such a rewarding experience so late in my trip. But I'm also very happy to be back in easy breezy Ubud, soaking up sun next to the gorgeous pool!
Eventually, Sue, and her Balinese friend Yusi, hoped onto the island and met me at the warung where I was eating lunch. After chatting and eating, we headed over to the after school library the two of them run (funded by the diving shop next store). Sue and Yusi have a great partnership. Yusi, the most bold, outspoken Balinese woman I've ever seen, had the idea and local connections and ambition to start up the library, but doesn't really like kids! Sue, a strong passionate teacher/artist with a huge smile, loves teaching kids and definitely has a way with them. This session was kind of last minute, so we just reviewed colors, body parts, days of the week and animal names and noises with the kids (in Bali, a rooster doesn't say "cock-a-doodle-doo" but "co-ca-ro-ko"). And we sang head, shoulders, knees and toes (HSKT)...over and over.
I stayed the night in the volunteer housing (room with bunk beds) provided by the dive shop with Sue and Yusi. The next day we took the boat back to Lembongan (Yusi drove this time- kind of) where we went to another, more organized, afterschool program. Here, we not only sang HSKT, we also did the hokey pokey and played a kind of chirades! Overall, it was great fun but surpirsingly tiring! Kudos to anyone who seriously works with kids. After watching the sunset and enjoying a fresh caught grilled fish dinner with some more new friends, I realized I still needed more relaxing time in Bali and decided to catch the morning boat back to the mainland.
I'm so glad to have met these strong inspiring women and have such a rewarding experience so late in my trip. But I'm also very happy to be back in easy breezy Ubud, soaking up sun next to the gorgeous pool!
Monday, June 14, 2010
I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair!!
That was my plan here in Bali (the "man" in question being India itself, sorry girls). But said man, like the days worth of sweat, dirt, and god knows what else had been building up in my hair, was far more difficult to wash out than expected. I'm in Ubud, and it's beautiful, but for the first few days I felt nothing. I couldn't see any beauty, wasn't happy and missed India and everything about it. I tried shifting to a nicer hotel with a swimming pool and my own balcony facing the rice fields, but it was no better. I thought of heading to the beach, or maybe to hike up the volcano, or even taking some sort of art class, but I couldn't seem to get it up about doing anything. It was that familiar indifference of depression all over again. Damn the stubborn heart!!
But I met a nice French girl, and we went on a lovely walk through the rice fields, and I've had some really nice food (loads of steamed veggies and peanut sauce and pastries!!!) and started reading Tom Robbins again (Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates) so things are getting better.
Yesterday, while sitting in a sweet organic coffee shop that makes it's own frozen yogurt, I met a crazy English artist who came to Bali for a few weeks, but that was three years ago! I'm guessing she's in her 50's or 60s and looks like a stereotypical hippy artist, but we got to chatting and I came to learn that she's been volunteering at a community school for little kids on a small small island that is rarely visited by tourists, Nusa Penida. She invited me to go with her this time around, saying that the kids would love someone who is younger and American. So she gave me instructions on how to get to the island (bus to a coastal town, then a boat to another island, and yet another boat to Penida) and how to find her (ask around for Suzy, I'm the only white woman there) if I decided to go. There's no internet there, she says, so I'd have to just show up.
Then, today, at yet another sweet organic coffee shop, I met an Australian scientist/wildlife researcher/humanitarian/journalist/novelist who also has a background in pharmacology (yikes!) and had quite a long chat where twice I almost cried. He's currently writing something about empathy, and I think it shows. Either way, once he learned I was a pharmacist, he told me about a project he was involved in during a recent earthquake in Indonesia where he was able to acquire a warehouse full of medications and had the local know-how to get them to the people before any of the much needed foreign aid arrived. He said he wished there had been a pharmacist there to sort through the drugs and make sense of it all. This happens to be close to what I always imagined myself doing (pharmacy related international disaster relief type stuff) but haven't really found an organization by which to do so. He gave me some contact people and said that it would be easy for me to start something up. Just what I need, I thought, another reason to stay abroad.
I have met too many expats here and I fear that I will become one of them. What if I can't readjust to life in the States?! I was so worried when I fist came about being unable to handle India and now I'm worried about being unable to handle the US! Jeez, I'm going to be a mess when I get home! My hair is getting dirtier and dirtier by the minute and I am going to need lots of help to wash all this nonsense out!
In the meantime, I will leave tomorrow morning to attempt to find the crazy lady and help out with the kids. I guess one can never visit too many foreign schools, no? Don't worry, I will make it home safe and, if I'm not too much of a mental case, I'll try to write about when I get back to Bali.
But I met a nice French girl, and we went on a lovely walk through the rice fields, and I've had some really nice food (loads of steamed veggies and peanut sauce and pastries!!!) and started reading Tom Robbins again (Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates) so things are getting better.
Yesterday, while sitting in a sweet organic coffee shop that makes it's own frozen yogurt, I met a crazy English artist who came to Bali for a few weeks, but that was three years ago! I'm guessing she's in her 50's or 60s and looks like a stereotypical hippy artist, but we got to chatting and I came to learn that she's been volunteering at a community school for little kids on a small small island that is rarely visited by tourists, Nusa Penida. She invited me to go with her this time around, saying that the kids would love someone who is younger and American. So she gave me instructions on how to get to the island (bus to a coastal town, then a boat to another island, and yet another boat to Penida) and how to find her (ask around for Suzy, I'm the only white woman there) if I decided to go. There's no internet there, she says, so I'd have to just show up.
Then, today, at yet another sweet organic coffee shop, I met an Australian scientist/wildlife researcher/humanitarian/journalist/novelist who also has a background in pharmacology (yikes!) and had quite a long chat where twice I almost cried. He's currently writing something about empathy, and I think it shows. Either way, once he learned I was a pharmacist, he told me about a project he was involved in during a recent earthquake in Indonesia where he was able to acquire a warehouse full of medications and had the local know-how to get them to the people before any of the much needed foreign aid arrived. He said he wished there had been a pharmacist there to sort through the drugs and make sense of it all. This happens to be close to what I always imagined myself doing (pharmacy related international disaster relief type stuff) but haven't really found an organization by which to do so. He gave me some contact people and said that it would be easy for me to start something up. Just what I need, I thought, another reason to stay abroad.
I have met too many expats here and I fear that I will become one of them. What if I can't readjust to life in the States?! I was so worried when I fist came about being unable to handle India and now I'm worried about being unable to handle the US! Jeez, I'm going to be a mess when I get home! My hair is getting dirtier and dirtier by the minute and I am going to need lots of help to wash all this nonsense out!
In the meantime, I will leave tomorrow morning to attempt to find the crazy lady and help out with the kids. I guess one can never visit too many foreign schools, no? Don't worry, I will make it home safe and, if I'm not too much of a mental case, I'll try to write about when I get back to Bali.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Bowling and Beers in Bangalore
Since I was ditched by my unreliable friend, Sathish, I found myself spending the day with the Indian relatives of my American friend, Shruthi. Thinking I'd hook up with Sathish sometime in the day, I just tagged along with the family to their Sunday activities. After breakfast, I went with Shruthi's cousin Shwetha and her 2 young kids to see the progress of their new restaurant they are opening in a few weeks. I had the pleasure of meeting Shruthi's dad, who arrived in town yesterday from Pittsburgh, as well as the rest of the extended family!
Then we headed over to a recreational cricket tournament hosted by a social organization which reminded me of an adult Indian BBYO. We were only going to pick up Shwetha's husband Raj and go home, but since his team won their match, they were still in the tournament. As a rule, each team has to have 2 female players. They were happy when we showed up because Raj's team was short one girl. Shwetha was all set to play but then, despite playing with me all last night and this morning, neither of the kids would sit with me without crying. I could tell what the solution was going to be, but kept quiet, hoping the kids would snap out of it and I'd be saved. But no, my fears were realized when everyone decided that best solution was to have the unathletic foreign girl play!!
I tried my best, but I was no Dhoni! The rules were a bit different (not that I'm all that familiar with the rules), and I think I was too encouraging as I kept bowling (pitching) so that the other girls could hit the ball! To my chagrin, we won anyways, meaning we were into the semi-finals. The break allowed me to down a few more beers and have some ice cream and gulab jamun (those gulab jamun were off the hook!). For the next game we faced the only team with uniforms, they were hardcore! I was the first bowler. The beers must have heightened my cricket playing abilities because the other team's score was only -3 after my over (rules are very different, usually no negative scores in cricket). I was spared the batting portion but Shwetha turned out to be way worse than me and the team was wishing I was at bat again, which made me feel a lot better. We lost the game, which I was secretly relieved about. But I guess it was good that I got to play cricket since I spent so much time here in India!
Since Sathish was still MIA at 9pm, I decided to spend another night at Shruthi's aunt's house and I'm so lucky that they were so hospitable and friendly!!!
I finally met up with Sathish Monday afternoon. Yesterday, while Sathish was at work, I walked all over Bangalore without getting lost and the weather was lovely! Bangalore is quite cosmopolitan and reminds me of Argentina in that it feels really similar to the US but it's cheaper and nicer. I could walk the streets wearing jeans and listening to my ipod, two things I haven't done in ages, and no one starred at me any more than usual. It was nice. Despite all this, I think I still prefer Chennai. The people in Chennai are so nice and modest. It feels more like a huge village than a big city.
Last night I met up with Sathish, GAPP, and Amol at Pico's for beer and food. It was nice to spend my last night in India with those guys and I was happy to hear that Amol shares my opinion about Chennai over Bangalore. I seem to have developed quite an attachment to that place. Hopefully I'll be able to make it back there one day.
Then we headed over to a recreational cricket tournament hosted by a social organization which reminded me of an adult Indian BBYO. We were only going to pick up Shwetha's husband Raj and go home, but since his team won their match, they were still in the tournament. As a rule, each team has to have 2 female players. They were happy when we showed up because Raj's team was short one girl. Shwetha was all set to play but then, despite playing with me all last night and this morning, neither of the kids would sit with me without crying. I could tell what the solution was going to be, but kept quiet, hoping the kids would snap out of it and I'd be saved. But no, my fears were realized when everyone decided that best solution was to have the unathletic foreign girl play!!
I tried my best, but I was no Dhoni! The rules were a bit different (not that I'm all that familiar with the rules), and I think I was too encouraging as I kept bowling (pitching) so that the other girls could hit the ball! To my chagrin, we won anyways, meaning we were into the semi-finals. The break allowed me to down a few more beers and have some ice cream and gulab jamun (those gulab jamun were off the hook!). For the next game we faced the only team with uniforms, they were hardcore! I was the first bowler. The beers must have heightened my cricket playing abilities because the other team's score was only -3 after my over (rules are very different, usually no negative scores in cricket). I was spared the batting portion but Shwetha turned out to be way worse than me and the team was wishing I was at bat again, which made me feel a lot better. We lost the game, which I was secretly relieved about. But I guess it was good that I got to play cricket since I spent so much time here in India!
Since Sathish was still MIA at 9pm, I decided to spend another night at Shruthi's aunt's house and I'm so lucky that they were so hospitable and friendly!!!
I finally met up with Sathish Monday afternoon. Yesterday, while Sathish was at work, I walked all over Bangalore without getting lost and the weather was lovely! Bangalore is quite cosmopolitan and reminds me of Argentina in that it feels really similar to the US but it's cheaper and nicer. I could walk the streets wearing jeans and listening to my ipod, two things I haven't done in ages, and no one starred at me any more than usual. It was nice. Despite all this, I think I still prefer Chennai. The people in Chennai are so nice and modest. It feels more like a huge village than a big city.
Last night I met up with Sathish, GAPP, and Amol at Pico's for beer and food. It was nice to spend my last night in India with those guys and I was happy to hear that Amol shares my opinion about Chennai over Bangalore. I seem to have developed quite an attachment to that place. Hopefully I'll be able to make it back there one day.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Home again, home again
Jiggity Jig! You know that feeling you get at the end of vacation when you're plane is landing and you're just glad to be home? That's how I felt flying into Chennai. Despite the horrible heat and humidity, It felt good to be back. It was comforting to be in a place where I could speak a bit of the language, recognize where I was and knew how things work and how much they should cost. After all that time spent with strangers turned new friends, it was good to see a familiar face (Jacob), even if it had grown a new mustache!
As much as I'm excited to get back to my real home, I'm not looking forward to getting back to my real life. I dread having to find a job, find a place to live, sort out my life and move on. Even unpacking and packing and cleaning up my room in my parents house seems overwhelming. I know that after a few days of being home, I will be longing for India and the simple happy life I've been living here. Despite all it's flaws (GAPP can talk for hours on end about this subject!), I'm definitely going to miss Chennai and I will be very sad to leave this place.
I still didn't get to visit anyone in the office or my old neighborhood, but here are some pics from my office, taken throughout my stay here in Chennai.
As much as I'm excited to get back to my real home, I'm not looking forward to getting back to my real life. I dread having to find a job, find a place to live, sort out my life and move on. Even unpacking and packing and cleaning up my room in my parents house seems overwhelming. I know that after a few days of being home, I will be longing for India and the simple happy life I've been living here. Despite all it's flaws (GAPP can talk for hours on end about this subject!), I'm definitely going to miss Chennai and I will be very sad to leave this place.
I still didn't get to visit anyone in the office or my old neighborhood, but here are some pics from my office, taken throughout my stay here in Chennai.
Mawlynnong
I had spent a lot of time in Shillong and as much as I loved it, I was getting a little antsy to move on. So I was so happy when Fiona asked if I was interested in going to the small village of Mawlynnong, also known as The Cleanest Village in Asia. It is a small village (470 people) in the Kasi hills that is about 4 hrs away from Shillong. There is no public transport to this village so we had to take a shared sumo to anothern village (Pynursla) and then another shared sumo from there. the ride was a bit much, but as soon as we got there we were both soooo happy we came!
Fiona was born in Shillong but has been living in Mumbai for almost 20 years. She can speak the local tribal language, Kasi, but because she looks like a city girl, it would really knock the socks off the villagers to hear her speak! The village itself is just gorgeous, and even with the rains it was so calming to be there. There is one guest house but it turns out you have to reserve it from Shillong before you arrive, so we asked around and found that we could stay with a family (in fact, the head chief's family!) who owns the only restaurant in the village.
We spoke with the secretary of the village, Richard, who hooked us up with a boy, little Richard, to take us to see some local sites. We saw a living root bridge, which is actually a bridge made of tree roots. It was hard to explain but it did feel like we were in Lord of the Rings!
The next morning we went to check out the small small village school. It was a little one room building, with a few different classes and 3 teachers inside. The kids were sweet and we sat with them and read a little bit of English. We also visited some neighboring villages and saw some interesting tree houses and views of Bangladesh. But, due to the rain, we spent most of our time sipping tea and chatting with the Kasi woman who owns a little tea stall in the village. Fiona and I thought that this was the perfect place for a honeymoon, now we just need to find us some husbands!!
To check out pics of the village as well as other pics from my North East trip click here.
Fiona was born in Shillong but has been living in Mumbai for almost 20 years. She can speak the local tribal language, Kasi, but because she looks like a city girl, it would really knock the socks off the villagers to hear her speak! The village itself is just gorgeous, and even with the rains it was so calming to be there. There is one guest house but it turns out you have to reserve it from Shillong before you arrive, so we asked around and found that we could stay with a family (in fact, the head chief's family!) who owns the only restaurant in the village.
We spoke with the secretary of the village, Richard, who hooked us up with a boy, little Richard, to take us to see some local sites. We saw a living root bridge, which is actually a bridge made of tree roots. It was hard to explain but it did feel like we were in Lord of the Rings!
The next morning we went to check out the small small village school. It was a little one room building, with a few different classes and 3 teachers inside. The kids were sweet and we sat with them and read a little bit of English. We also visited some neighboring villages and saw some interesting tree houses and views of Bangladesh. But, due to the rain, we spent most of our time sipping tea and chatting with the Kasi woman who owns a little tea stall in the village. Fiona and I thought that this was the perfect place for a honeymoon, now we just need to find us some husbands!!
To check out pics of the village as well as other pics from my North East trip click here.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Some things I forgot to mention....
- In Agartala, everyone (even policemen!) wears construction helmets while riding their motorbikes instead of regular helmets. Everyone looks like architects!
- In India, street food is usually served on newspaper. In Shillong it's served on children's homework from 2001! Learn math and/or English with every meal!
- Shillong loooooves American Idol and every music/dance competition on TV. We watched the American Idol final episode and people were genuinely upset that the boy won instead of the girl. But they all sang along to all the Chicago and Hall and Oates songs, which was fun.
- I met a guy who can't believe that I'm American and I don't LOVE hotdogs and hamburgers
- The walls at my hotel are so thin I could hear the guy in the room next to me snoring and farting all night long
Suspicious Minds
Last night I went to dinner at someone's house and ended up staying there till 2am drinking whiskey, smoking cigarettes (pork AND cigarettes- what is Shillong doing to me?!) and singing and dancing to Elvis. I would like to say I met Shillong's biggest Elvis fan, but, knowing this place, I'm probably wrong. The amount of influence music has on this town is amazing.
But I haven't spent this whole time in Shillong itself. With nothing else planned I decided to join GAPP and his friend Arpit for a side trip to Agartala, Tripura. Our 16 hr overnight bus ride turned into a 21 hr bus ride due to heavy rains and landslides. Agartala turned out to be kind of a bust. It was hot and humid, we couldn't find a cheap place to stay and the things we had planned to see turned out to be a bit lame. That night, while GAPP and I were on a fruitless search for ice cream (what kind of a place doesn't have any ice cream?!), we both decided it was best to just cut our losses and return to Shillong the following day. Arpit was up for the plan so we booked our tickets on the 16 hr bus leaving the next day at noon.
There was one more thing GAPP really wanted to do in Agartala; see the Bangladesh border. Since we had a bit of time that morning before our bus, we took a shared jeep out to the man made lake that borders Bangladesh. On the way, our jeep picked up lots of passengers, at one point carrying 24 people (not counting the driver!), which we loved. The border was funny and we chatted up the soldiers and took photos of ourselves next to the barbed wire. GAPP had never seen a land border with another country so he was quite excited about it. The soldiers, upon hearing that I was unmarried, commented to the boys (in Hindi of course) that my dad must be well off because he had enough money to send me traveling all over the place. Ha!
We were having such fun we didn't realize how late it was getting and that we had to get back to town to catch our bus, FAST! We found our jeep guy and got on the road. Of course we had to stop a million times to pick up a million more passengers, and this time we were not as amused since we couldn't help thinking we were going to be stuck here in Agartala for another wasted day. But, after an anxiety filled hour, we made it to the bus station at around 12:15pm and luckily the bus was running late. This time, the 16 hr ride was extended by a 3 hr delay since our bus broke down some 4 hrs into the journey. We sat on the side of the road and had endless pointless conversations. But we did manage to find some ice cream.
We finally got back on the road after dark. The roads between the two places are extremely curvy and the bus was driving as if it were a small sports car or something. It was pitch black outside apart from the neon colored lights of the passing carrier trucks (all trucks in India are decked out with lots of colored lights and paintings!) and it felt just like I was on Space Mountain at Disney World- never knowing which way the bus was going to swerve or whether or not we were going to hit something. Everyone on the bus was sleeping (except for the cockroaches) and, accompanied by my Arcade Fire soundtrack, I just couldn't help thinking, "what the f*#@ am I doing here?!"
Needless to say, I'm glad to be back safe in Shillong, even if it's pouring rain. Tomorrow I'm headed out to Mawlynnong, which is supposedly the cleanest village in all of Asia!
But I haven't spent this whole time in Shillong itself. With nothing else planned I decided to join GAPP and his friend Arpit for a side trip to Agartala, Tripura. Our 16 hr overnight bus ride turned into a 21 hr bus ride due to heavy rains and landslides. Agartala turned out to be kind of a bust. It was hot and humid, we couldn't find a cheap place to stay and the things we had planned to see turned out to be a bit lame. That night, while GAPP and I were on a fruitless search for ice cream (what kind of a place doesn't have any ice cream?!), we both decided it was best to just cut our losses and return to Shillong the following day. Arpit was up for the plan so we booked our tickets on the 16 hr bus leaving the next day at noon.
There was one more thing GAPP really wanted to do in Agartala; see the Bangladesh border. Since we had a bit of time that morning before our bus, we took a shared jeep out to the man made lake that borders Bangladesh. On the way, our jeep picked up lots of passengers, at one point carrying 24 people (not counting the driver!), which we loved. The border was funny and we chatted up the soldiers and took photos of ourselves next to the barbed wire. GAPP had never seen a land border with another country so he was quite excited about it. The soldiers, upon hearing that I was unmarried, commented to the boys (in Hindi of course) that my dad must be well off because he had enough money to send me traveling all over the place. Ha!
We were having such fun we didn't realize how late it was getting and that we had to get back to town to catch our bus, FAST! We found our jeep guy and got on the road. Of course we had to stop a million times to pick up a million more passengers, and this time we were not as amused since we couldn't help thinking we were going to be stuck here in Agartala for another wasted day. But, after an anxiety filled hour, we made it to the bus station at around 12:15pm and luckily the bus was running late. This time, the 16 hr ride was extended by a 3 hr delay since our bus broke down some 4 hrs into the journey. We sat on the side of the road and had endless pointless conversations. But we did manage to find some ice cream.
We finally got back on the road after dark. The roads between the two places are extremely curvy and the bus was driving as if it were a small sports car or something. It was pitch black outside apart from the neon colored lights of the passing carrier trucks (all trucks in India are decked out with lots of colored lights and paintings!) and it felt just like I was on Space Mountain at Disney World- never knowing which way the bus was going to swerve or whether or not we were going to hit something. Everyone on the bus was sleeping (except for the cockroaches) and, accompanied by my Arcade Fire soundtrack, I just couldn't help thinking, "what the f*#@ am I doing here?!"
Needless to say, I'm glad to be back safe in Shillong, even if it's pouring rain. Tomorrow I'm headed out to Mawlynnong, which is supposedly the cleanest village in all of Asia!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Where the Efros am I?!?!
Being in Shillong feels like I'm in another country. No one wobbles their heads, the women don't wear bindis or saris and everyone eats with two hands (oh, the horror!!). It was cold and rainy when we first arrived and there was a bandh (strike) so EVERYTHING was shut. Jacob and I spent the first 2 days starving in our hotel room watching TV. Once things started functioning again, Jacob went on to Nepal and I managed to meet a great group of people in a sort of shady way. They've been extremely hospitable and I went with some of them to some dinner parties and a bachelor party and it's been quite the experience. One guy, Brian, is the headmaster of a school here. I went to school with him one morning and got to play with little 4 year olds wearing the cutest uniforms. The school is in English so we sang songs and ran around and named body parts, etc. It was fun. I also visited another school for underprivileged kids where they learn skills such as crafts, cooking, carpentry and electrical work.
But the highlight was dinner at Uncle Robbins house where there was an impromptu jam session. Everyone in Shillong plays some sort of music, but there are no music teachers or lessons and no live music venues. So people just play at home. During dinner one night, Keith and Jeffrey started playing guitar and, after much coaxing, an older woman (everyone just calls her 'old lady') started singing along. At first she was singing old folk songs, which turned into singing songs such as "How much is that doggie in the window" and "she'll be coming 'round the mountain," and then a crazy sing along to "Goodnight Irene" where EVERYONE in the room (probably about 20 of us) were singing together. I loved it. But Old Lady wasn't done, she then started just singing nonsense while poor Keith and Jeffrey tried to accompany her and the rest of us pissed our pants laughing. We also had lovely lovely food including lots of steamed veggies (I was soooo happy!!) and pork, which I ate AND enjoyed! Local red sticky rice with mangoes finished off the meal. And lots of homemade wine, etc. It was a nice night.
Continuing the weirdness, the next night was The Bob Dylan Birthday Celebration #69. An outdoor stage was set up in the middle of a small traffic circle. Lou Majaw (or Uncle Lou as my friends call him), clad in mismatched stripped socks and short short short denim cutoffs, praised Bob Dylan, wished him a happy birthday and then rocked out! He sang mostly his own songs, except for Blowin' in the Wind and Knockin' on Heavens Door, which he played at least 4 times (2 of which were encores!). He had the moves, too - marching around the stage, straddling the mic stand, throwing his hands up, taking off his shirt, etc. At one point he put the mic in his pants! It was pretty crowded but by a simple twist of fate (haha) I manged to run into GAPP. It was great to see him and we were laughing and singing a lot.
It's definitely weird here and doesn't feel like India, but I'm still loving it!
But the highlight was dinner at Uncle Robbins house where there was an impromptu jam session. Everyone in Shillong plays some sort of music, but there are no music teachers or lessons and no live music venues. So people just play at home. During dinner one night, Keith and Jeffrey started playing guitar and, after much coaxing, an older woman (everyone just calls her 'old lady') started singing along. At first she was singing old folk songs, which turned into singing songs such as "How much is that doggie in the window" and "she'll be coming 'round the mountain," and then a crazy sing along to "Goodnight Irene" where EVERYONE in the room (probably about 20 of us) were singing together. I loved it. But Old Lady wasn't done, she then started just singing nonsense while poor Keith and Jeffrey tried to accompany her and the rest of us pissed our pants laughing. We also had lovely lovely food including lots of steamed veggies (I was soooo happy!!) and pork, which I ate AND enjoyed! Local red sticky rice with mangoes finished off the meal. And lots of homemade wine, etc. It was a nice night.
Continuing the weirdness, the next night was The Bob Dylan Birthday Celebration #69. An outdoor stage was set up in the middle of a small traffic circle. Lou Majaw (or Uncle Lou as my friends call him), clad in mismatched stripped socks and short short short denim cutoffs, praised Bob Dylan, wished him a happy birthday and then rocked out! He sang mostly his own songs, except for Blowin' in the Wind and Knockin' on Heavens Door, which he played at least 4 times (2 of which were encores!). He had the moves, too - marching around the stage, straddling the mic stand, throwing his hands up, taking off his shirt, etc. At one point he put the mic in his pants! It was pretty crowded but by a simple twist of fate (haha) I manged to run into GAPP. It was great to see him and we were laughing and singing a lot.
It's definitely weird here and doesn't feel like India, but I'm still loving it!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
At Least It's Not Typhoid!
This was my dear friend Tom's reaction when he heard of my recent situation. I think some one out there is punishing me for leaving India, for my last week here in Chennai was made miserable by a "viral fever" resulting in a "severe tonsillitis". I was at work feeling fine, eating what turned out to be my last idly breakfast from my favorite idly stall when I started to feel weird. A few hours later my legs started hurting and then I got a headache. I took some tylenol but things got worse so I left work during lunch. I got home, got into bed in my AC room and started watching Bride Wars. By the end of the movie, I realized that I was freezing despite turning off the AC and the fan and going under the sheet. I was shivering but felt hot to the touch. I was miserable. I called Jacob (who would be my nurse Ratched for the next few days) and took more tylenol.
That night I was crazy, with lots of fever induced dreams (some in Tamil!!) and sleep talking (only English). Every 4 hours my temperature would spike (Tmax 38.8C) and I'd take pills and an hour later I'd be drenched in sweat. I was convinced I had malaria. I had never had such bad fevers without any other symptoms. I called the International SOS doctor and the doctor said (no more monkeys jumping on the bed?!) that I should just keep taking the tylenol and if I still had fever the next day I should go to the hospital.
So since the fever continued (for a total of 48 hrs in the end) I got to go to the hospital. For some reason, this was the happiest thing I remember about the whole sickness. I think it's cause I had just taken some tylenol and by the time we got to the hospital my fever was breaking and I was able to make sense of things. I was also finally hungry and my severe tonsillitis hadn't kicked in yet, so I was able to eat the biscuits Jacob found for me. The hospital was big and clean and looked just like a hospital at home, except everyone was head wobbling! I saw the doctor who said I was having viral fever and it didn't look like malaria or typhoid, although they didn't do any blood tests, so I'm not sure how he reached that conclusion. He said to come back if I wasn't better by Friday (I don't remember what day it was then).
Back home, the fevers continued and then my throat started hurting, a lot. As the fevers subsided, my throat got worse, till I could barely swallow. I wanted to go to work to say goodbye to everyone but I felt like shit. I went anyways and I had Dr. Sathish look in my throat. He said it was tonsillitis caused by the viral fevers, that it happens all the time here and I need antibiotics. I also showed Mani and he reacted like it was the worst thing he'd ever seen! I started the tablets that afternoon itself. At work they got me a cake (that I coudln't eat) and everyone made little speeches, etc and Nirmala Madam even cried a little (which made me cry a little too). They gave me a lovely, albeit heavy, statue. I took some pics (posted along with other pics from the office) and then got outta there as fast I could so I could go home and take rest.
I'm mostly recovered now, I can eat and have a bit more energy. And I'm leaving on a 630am train tomorrow where I can have 52 hrs of uninterrupted rest. I moved out of my house today and left my beloved neighborhood for good. All in all my last week in Chennai sucked. I didn't really leave the house, I didn't get to eat all the stuff I wanted, I didn't get to play with the neighborhood kids (I didn't even get to say goodbye!), I didn't get to go to Geetha's house, or take all the pictures of my neighborhood like i was planning to. I didn't get to do last minute shopping or get pants made and I didn't really have a good last day at work. But at least I don't have typhoid.
Heading up North, I'll try to update when I can!
That night I was crazy, with lots of fever induced dreams (some in Tamil!!) and sleep talking (only English). Every 4 hours my temperature would spike (Tmax 38.8C) and I'd take pills and an hour later I'd be drenched in sweat. I was convinced I had malaria. I had never had such bad fevers without any other symptoms. I called the International SOS doctor and the doctor said (no more monkeys jumping on the bed?!) that I should just keep taking the tylenol and if I still had fever the next day I should go to the hospital.
So since the fever continued (for a total of 48 hrs in the end) I got to go to the hospital. For some reason, this was the happiest thing I remember about the whole sickness. I think it's cause I had just taken some tylenol and by the time we got to the hospital my fever was breaking and I was able to make sense of things. I was also finally hungry and my severe tonsillitis hadn't kicked in yet, so I was able to eat the biscuits Jacob found for me. The hospital was big and clean and looked just like a hospital at home, except everyone was head wobbling! I saw the doctor who said I was having viral fever and it didn't look like malaria or typhoid, although they didn't do any blood tests, so I'm not sure how he reached that conclusion. He said to come back if I wasn't better by Friday (I don't remember what day it was then).
Back home, the fevers continued and then my throat started hurting, a lot. As the fevers subsided, my throat got worse, till I could barely swallow. I wanted to go to work to say goodbye to everyone but I felt like shit. I went anyways and I had Dr. Sathish look in my throat. He said it was tonsillitis caused by the viral fevers, that it happens all the time here and I need antibiotics. I also showed Mani and he reacted like it was the worst thing he'd ever seen! I started the tablets that afternoon itself. At work they got me a cake (that I coudln't eat) and everyone made little speeches, etc and Nirmala Madam even cried a little (which made me cry a little too). They gave me a lovely, albeit heavy, statue. I took some pics (posted along with other pics from the office) and then got outta there as fast I could so I could go home and take rest.
I'm mostly recovered now, I can eat and have a bit more energy. And I'm leaving on a 630am train tomorrow where I can have 52 hrs of uninterrupted rest. I moved out of my house today and left my beloved neighborhood for good. All in all my last week in Chennai sucked. I didn't really leave the house, I didn't get to eat all the stuff I wanted, I didn't get to play with the neighborhood kids (I didn't even get to say goodbye!), I didn't get to go to Geetha's house, or take all the pictures of my neighborhood like i was planning to. I didn't get to do last minute shopping or get pants made and I didn't really have a good last day at work. But at least I don't have typhoid.
Heading up North, I'll try to update when I can!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I'm not coming home!!
YET! I may be done in Chennai, but I'm not done in India! It is summer here, which means pretty much everywhere is hot (yes, I was wrong, Hottest is NOW!!) and crowded! In an attempt to avoid all of this, I'm heading towards the "Seven Sister States" in Northeastern India. There are no major tourist attractions in the Northeast, and therefore, not a lot of toursists!! But there are beautiful mountains and landscapes to explore and interesting people from many different cultures to meet. Permits are needed to get to some of the sisters, but not the gals I'm visiting!
Jacob and I are taking a 52 hr train (yikes!) to Guwahati where we will spend a few days bumming around Assam before Jacob heads off to Nepal. Then I will meet up with my new friend GAPP (from Madhya Pradesh trip) in Shillong (heehee) to go to a crazy music festival. Get this, Lou Majaw, a serious Bob Dylan fan, pays tribute to Dylan every year on his birthday by performing at an outdoor festival. GAPP invited me, and seriously, how could I miss the opportunity to see an Indian's take on Bob Dylan? And in the mountains no less!! Please listen to this NPR story for more information.
I will explore the area for a few weeks, take a train (only 16 hrs) to Kolkata to fly back to Chennai, arriving June 4th. Pick up my stuff and head over to Bangalore for a few days and then I'll be flying to Bali, Indonesia on June 9th. I fly back to the US from Bali, leaving (and arriving- crazy international dateline!) on June 22.
That's the plan. Please stay tuned...
ps- you can still send me mail as I'll be stopping by here to pick up on June 5. Just be sure to send it by May 21st. and no more packages! letters and postcards only.
Jacob and I are taking a 52 hr train (yikes!) to Guwahati where we will spend a few days bumming around Assam before Jacob heads off to Nepal. Then I will meet up with my new friend GAPP (from Madhya Pradesh trip) in Shillong (heehee) to go to a crazy music festival. Get this, Lou Majaw, a serious Bob Dylan fan, pays tribute to Dylan every year on his birthday by performing at an outdoor festival. GAPP invited me, and seriously, how could I miss the opportunity to see an Indian's take on Bob Dylan? And in the mountains no less!! Please listen to this NPR story for more information.
I will explore the area for a few weeks, take a train (only 16 hrs) to Kolkata to fly back to Chennai, arriving June 4th. Pick up my stuff and head over to Bangalore for a few days and then I'll be flying to Bali, Indonesia on June 9th. I fly back to the US from Bali, leaving (and arriving- crazy international dateline!) on June 22.
That's the plan. Please stay tuned...
ps- you can still send me mail as I'll be stopping by here to pick up on June 5. Just be sure to send it by May 21st. and no more packages! letters and postcards only.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Shopping in Chennai is a Cluster Cuss!
If it weren't for Jacob, I would have high-tailed it outta there at the first sight of the crowds, pushing their way through the jungle-themed entrance of Pothy's (complete with fake trees and a waterfall!). But I had put this off long enough, it had to be done. Shopping.
Pothy's is 7 floors of madness. Imagine Costcos, Meijers or IKEA on a Saturday, add a lot more people and just as many eager sales people, throw in magicians and mehndi artists and you're a little closer to understanding the scene we witnessed yesterday. Walking down the stairs, trying to get from one themed floor to the next, reminded me of following the crowds out of Joe Louis Arena after a play-off game (sorry to bring that up guys!). But instead of being corralled towards the “Windsor Ballet” shuttle buses, we were pushed to the basement, which housed the dress fabric.
I was looking for fabric to buy and take to the tailors to make shirts and skirts. We found the cotton printed area and were attended to by a reluctant sales fellow. He must have been able to sense my indecisiveness. I would point to a fabric behind the counter (no not that one, to the left, left, left, nope too far, OK yes, that one) and the sales fellow would take it off the shelf and lay it on the table, where it wouldn't look as good as it did on the shelf. This scene was repeated again and again until I thought both Jacob and the sales fellow were going to shoot me!
At one point I looked next to me, only to see the face of a woman as white as me, with the same overwhelmed expression. Enter Janet from New Hampshire, here visiting her husband who was teaching at a local university. She was as enamored with the fabrics as I was, but perhaps just a little bit more decisive. Inspired by Janet, and with Jacob's help, I got down to business. But as soon as I said yes to one fabric, it was hard to stop, and the next thing I knew, I had bought 2 ready made skirts and enough fabric for 3 shirts and 4 more skirts. Even Jacob got caught up in the action and bought some skirts!
It was like we couldn't stop, and as we were standing in the billing line (which is different from the paying line and also from the picking-up line), we spotted a skirt on one of the bottom only mannequins. We looked at the skirt and looked at each other and we both knew what had to happen. But the sales fellow seemed very reluctant to take the skirt off the mannequin and I thought for minute we were going to have to let that one go. He disappeared for a bit and then returned with another fellow holding another (uglier) skirt. He wrapped that skirt around the set of legs while the other fellow took off the skirt that we wanted. Then I understood what was going on, he had been embarrassed!! Chennai is so conservative that even the mannequins can't show their bare legs!!
Pothy's is 7 floors of madness. Imagine Costcos, Meijers or IKEA on a Saturday, add a lot more people and just as many eager sales people, throw in magicians and mehndi artists and you're a little closer to understanding the scene we witnessed yesterday. Walking down the stairs, trying to get from one themed floor to the next, reminded me of following the crowds out of Joe Louis Arena after a play-off game (sorry to bring that up guys!). But instead of being corralled towards the “Windsor Ballet” shuttle buses, we were pushed to the basement, which housed the dress fabric.
I was looking for fabric to buy and take to the tailors to make shirts and skirts. We found the cotton printed area and were attended to by a reluctant sales fellow. He must have been able to sense my indecisiveness. I would point to a fabric behind the counter (no not that one, to the left, left, left, nope too far, OK yes, that one) and the sales fellow would take it off the shelf and lay it on the table, where it wouldn't look as good as it did on the shelf. This scene was repeated again and again until I thought both Jacob and the sales fellow were going to shoot me!
At one point I looked next to me, only to see the face of a woman as white as me, with the same overwhelmed expression. Enter Janet from New Hampshire, here visiting her husband who was teaching at a local university. She was as enamored with the fabrics as I was, but perhaps just a little bit more decisive. Inspired by Janet, and with Jacob's help, I got down to business. But as soon as I said yes to one fabric, it was hard to stop, and the next thing I knew, I had bought 2 ready made skirts and enough fabric for 3 shirts and 4 more skirts. Even Jacob got caught up in the action and bought some skirts!
It was like we couldn't stop, and as we were standing in the billing line (which is different from the paying line and also from the picking-up line), we spotted a skirt on one of the bottom only mannequins. We looked at the skirt and looked at each other and we both knew what had to happen. But the sales fellow seemed very reluctant to take the skirt off the mannequin and I thought for minute we were going to have to let that one go. He disappeared for a bit and then returned with another fellow holding another (uglier) skirt. He wrapped that skirt around the set of legs while the other fellow took off the skirt that we wanted. Then I understood what was going on, he had been embarrassed!! Chennai is so conservative that even the mannequins can't show their bare legs!!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
மனசு சரியில்லை (Soul is not well)
Last night, I was speaking on the phone with my AJWS contact in NY and he says, "so, you have 10 days left." I was like, wait, WHAT?! 10 days only! Panic!! But I like it here, I'm happy. I'm not ready to leave my apartment or my neighborhood. I'm not ready to say goodbye to everyone at the office. PANIC!! I can't believe it's really almost time to go. My work has slowed to almost nothing, but I feel like everything else is just getting going. My Tamil is improving, I'm making friends and even the bus conductors know me. I really feel like I live here.
When I left the US, I was homeless, jobless, depressed, severely heartbroken and didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. Now, I feel settled and happy. Why would I deliberately disrupt the life I have made here only to go back to the uncertainties of home? When I moved to Boston, a place I have known all life, where my sister and my second family lives, to live with my best friend and work in a perfectly suited job, it took me nearly 5 months to even start to feel happy. When I moved here, by myself, to a completely foreign place where I knew next to nothing about the culture and even less of the language, to work with people I didn't know in a job that I'm not qualified for, I was completely happy within a month.
How could this have happened? Why do I feel so at home in India of all places? The way of life in India seems so simple. It's very hard to explain. Things are perhaps physically hard here, or sometimes less comfortable, but there is an easy going feeling about them. Everyone and everything moves slowly, mostly at the cost of efficiency, but more relaxed. I feel like I fit right in here. This is where I belong?!?
But I know in my heart that I can't stay here forever. I miss my family and friends. I miss working as a pharmacist (what a nerd!). And I miss bagels and cream cheese. I can't really work here (legally) and, although AJWS has offered to pay for my flight change if I wanted to stay for another month, my work at SAATHII is far from fullfilling. Plus, my dad would kill me. I know I have to move on, and knowing is half the battle (as all good children from the 80s are aware).
Unfortunately, the other half of the battle (feeling, perhaps?) is going to be a difficult one. While in India, my heart was able to heal from it's recent break, but only to be set up for another? I came here knowing it was only a "summer fling", but then I fell in love, unexpectedly. Oy, what a mess. I will deal by trying not to think too much about it and just enjoy the time I have left.
When I left the US, I was homeless, jobless, depressed, severely heartbroken and didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. Now, I feel settled and happy. Why would I deliberately disrupt the life I have made here only to go back to the uncertainties of home? When I moved to Boston, a place I have known all life, where my sister and my second family lives, to live with my best friend and work in a perfectly suited job, it took me nearly 5 months to even start to feel happy. When I moved here, by myself, to a completely foreign place where I knew next to nothing about the culture and even less of the language, to work with people I didn't know in a job that I'm not qualified for, I was completely happy within a month.
How could this have happened? Why do I feel so at home in India of all places? The way of life in India seems so simple. It's very hard to explain. Things are perhaps physically hard here, or sometimes less comfortable, but there is an easy going feeling about them. Everyone and everything moves slowly, mostly at the cost of efficiency, but more relaxed. I feel like I fit right in here. This is where I belong?!?
But I know in my heart that I can't stay here forever. I miss my family and friends. I miss working as a pharmacist (what a nerd!). And I miss bagels and cream cheese. I can't really work here (legally) and, although AJWS has offered to pay for my flight change if I wanted to stay for another month, my work at SAATHII is far from fullfilling. Plus, my dad would kill me. I know I have to move on, and knowing is half the battle (as all good children from the 80s are aware).
Unfortunately, the other half of the battle (feeling, perhaps?) is going to be a difficult one. While in India, my heart was able to heal from it's recent break, but only to be set up for another? I came here knowing it was only a "summer fling", but then I fell in love, unexpectedly. Oy, what a mess. I will deal by trying not to think too much about it and just enjoy the time I have left.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Lost and Found in Kochi
My search for balance between tourist and local has extended to Kochi. Yesterday I experienced an unsavory incident with a local boy, details of which I will spare you. More upsetting than the incident itself was my resulting feelings of mistrust towards the locals that I couldn't seem to shake. I was disappointed in myself for feeling that way because I know this was an isolated incident only, and most locals are not like this. So I took rest in my hotel room, had a decent cry and then found some comfort in good pep talk messages from friends. After a while I ventured back out to a local restaurant with a TV to watch India vs. South Africa in the T20 cricket World Cup. Rooting for India, along with other Indians, started to restore my faith in Indian humanity that I had unfairly lost.
I felt much better today and managed to steer clear of any weirdos as I walked through the busy spice and rice warehouse district on my way to Jew Town (yes, it's really called Jew Town). There, I visited the Kochi Synagogue, which is the oldest one in the British Commonwealth. The synagogue itself was beautiful and it was fun to see Hebrew in India, especially in a town that is so influenced by Christianity.
Afterwards, while shopping around the antique stores, I befriended a shop keeper who was originally from Chennai. His house is right near the beach where I would swim with Leah. He dearly misses Tamil Nadu, so I recited for him the beginning of a patriotic poem I'm learning in Tamil. He was impressed, but still tried to sell me a carpet! Business is business, afterall. Another shopkeeper, noticing my head wobble, asked how long I'd been in India. We ended up sitting and talking for almost an hour and even exchanged contact info. Then I bought some earings- business is business!
Now I'm heading to the fish market to buy some fresh fish which I will take to a shack where they will prepare it for me. I'm just happy to be back on speaking terms with India.
I felt much better today and managed to steer clear of any weirdos as I walked through the busy spice and rice warehouse district on my way to Jew Town (yes, it's really called Jew Town). There, I visited the Kochi Synagogue, which is the oldest one in the British Commonwealth. The synagogue itself was beautiful and it was fun to see Hebrew in India, especially in a town that is so influenced by Christianity.
Afterwards, while shopping around the antique stores, I befriended a shop keeper who was originally from Chennai. His house is right near the beach where I would swim with Leah. He dearly misses Tamil Nadu, so I recited for him the beginning of a patriotic poem I'm learning in Tamil. He was impressed, but still tried to sell me a carpet! Business is business, afterall. Another shopkeeper, noticing my head wobble, asked how long I'd been in India. We ended up sitting and talking for almost an hour and even exchanged contact info. Then I bought some earings- business is business!
Now I'm heading to the fish market to buy some fresh fish which I will take to a shack where they will prepare it for me. I'm just happy to be back on speaking terms with India.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Alappuzha
The 'zh' is actually pronounced like a glottal 'rhl', a sound we don't have in English, but is present in Tamil and Malayalam (the language here in Kerala). I arrived here without a hitch. Well, a small hitch I guess. On the train I was in lower berth and sometime early in the night while I was half sleeping/half dreaming, someone sat on me! The guy was sincerely appologetic, so I think it was an accident and he must have thought that it was his berth. It's not entirely impossible- as my dad reminded me that I had done the same thing to someone when we were staying in the Amzaon in Peru, except I got all the way into the bed with the stranger! And I was 12.
I stayed at lovely Gowri Residency, which was completely empty when I arrived late afternoon, but later filled up with 2 Spanish girls, a German girl, a Swiss guy, a couple from Ireland, an Argentinian girl and a Spanish-Australian girl. It began to pour rain and we lost power. I was so happy as I hadn't seen any rain since I've arrived here. Plus the rain brought with it the cool air. I asked the fellow at the hostel for some water (normal, not bottled) and he brought me a tall glass filled with a brownish pink clear liquid. He said that in Alappuzha they boil the water and then add "aruveydic powder". I like the boiling idea, but was pretty skeptical about the powder, as this sort of bordered my "no strange food/drink from strangers" rule, but the Argentinian girl vouched for the guy, saying she had stayed here before and the he's trustworthy. After making the Spanish girls promise to keep an eye on me, I took the risk and accepted the drink.
The thing to do in Alappuzha is a boat tour of the Keralan backwaters. As a group, we had searched for a boat, but because of the holiday (May Day) and just because it's touristy, we couldn't find anything for under Rs 2,000 per person! I dropped out and decided just to try the government ferry boat (Rs 10). So the next morning, I bypassed the pricey breakfast (Rs 50 for toast and jam?!) at the hostel and headed to the tea shop next door. I was the only white person, and they only female, and everyone was afraid to sit next to me. But the food was delicious, eventhough the idly and dosai were very different from what I'm used to, and only cost me Rs 13, including tea.
I hoped on the ferry boat and moments later we were off. The backwaters lived up to expectations and were beautiful!!! The ferry boat stopped at a lot of waterside villages, but all the signs were in Malayalam and I wasn't sure of what was there and just didn't have the balls to go on my own. If only I had some friends (the right kind of friends) with me! I decided to take the ferry all the way to Kottayam, have some lunch and then hop back on and try to stop by some villages on the way back. After about 2.5 hrs we reached Kottayam. There wasn't much there for me, but I managed to eat at a meals joint (again, meals were pretty different from Tamil Nadu meals) and was relieved to find that everyone in the place was drinking the brown water!
I made it back to the ferry dock, thinking the next boat was at 130pm, only to find the boat has just left at 1pm. Next boat would be 330pm, leaving me with over 2 hrs to spend during the hottest part of the day, in a place where probably 30 min would have been more than enough time. Cursing myself for not double checking the boat time when I arrived, I decided to search out the headquarters of a well known book publisher, DC Books, knowing they would have a book shop in English.
After killing time, I hoped back on the boat heading back to Alappuzha. Again I wanted to stop at the villages, but not knowing the name of any place, having no map or schedule of the ferry, and knowing it would be dark in a few hours, I grudginly didn't take the risk this time and just stayed put on the boat.
Walking back to the guest house, I was feeling a little bad about missing out on the village visit and frustrated at knowingly being overcharged for mangos and tapioca chips. More reminders that I'm a toursit and not a local anymore. I stopped at the same tea shop where I had had breakfast for tea and snacks. The staff recognized me and were a bit more open this time. Listening to the people around me, I heard a few somewhat familiar words and, knowing that Maylayalam is close to Tamil, decided to try out some Tamil, hoping it would slide. I asked for 4 dosai in Tamil and the guy asked, in Malayalam, if I spoke Malayalam. I said no, but explained that I was living in Chennai and spoke a little Tamil. We spoke for a while, comparing Kerala to Tamil Nadu and the US. He introduced me to the owner and the rest of the staff and it was just the type of interaction I needed to lift my spirits.
Back at the guest house, I found that the rest of the gang had secured a houseboat for the next day, at around Rs 1,200 per person. This validated my decision to take the local ferry, despite the lack of village visits. After living here for a bit and my local travel experiences in MP, I think I'll have a hard time returning to traveling like a tourist. On the other hand, it was nice to spend the evening having beers and playing Shithead (cards) with other travellers, even if they do use toilet paper!
I stayed at lovely Gowri Residency, which was completely empty when I arrived late afternoon, but later filled up with 2 Spanish girls, a German girl, a Swiss guy, a couple from Ireland, an Argentinian girl and a Spanish-Australian girl. It began to pour rain and we lost power. I was so happy as I hadn't seen any rain since I've arrived here. Plus the rain brought with it the cool air. I asked the fellow at the hostel for some water (normal, not bottled) and he brought me a tall glass filled with a brownish pink clear liquid. He said that in Alappuzha they boil the water and then add "aruveydic powder". I like the boiling idea, but was pretty skeptical about the powder, as this sort of bordered my "no strange food/drink from strangers" rule, but the Argentinian girl vouched for the guy, saying she had stayed here before and the he's trustworthy. After making the Spanish girls promise to keep an eye on me, I took the risk and accepted the drink.
The thing to do in Alappuzha is a boat tour of the Keralan backwaters. As a group, we had searched for a boat, but because of the holiday (May Day) and just because it's touristy, we couldn't find anything for under Rs 2,000 per person! I dropped out and decided just to try the government ferry boat (Rs 10). So the next morning, I bypassed the pricey breakfast (Rs 50 for toast and jam?!) at the hostel and headed to the tea shop next door. I was the only white person, and they only female, and everyone was afraid to sit next to me. But the food was delicious, eventhough the idly and dosai were very different from what I'm used to, and only cost me Rs 13, including tea.
I hoped on the ferry boat and moments later we were off. The backwaters lived up to expectations and were beautiful!!! The ferry boat stopped at a lot of waterside villages, but all the signs were in Malayalam and I wasn't sure of what was there and just didn't have the balls to go on my own. If only I had some friends (the right kind of friends) with me! I decided to take the ferry all the way to Kottayam, have some lunch and then hop back on and try to stop by some villages on the way back. After about 2.5 hrs we reached Kottayam. There wasn't much there for me, but I managed to eat at a meals joint (again, meals were pretty different from Tamil Nadu meals) and was relieved to find that everyone in the place was drinking the brown water!
I made it back to the ferry dock, thinking the next boat was at 130pm, only to find the boat has just left at 1pm. Next boat would be 330pm, leaving me with over 2 hrs to spend during the hottest part of the day, in a place where probably 30 min would have been more than enough time. Cursing myself for not double checking the boat time when I arrived, I decided to search out the headquarters of a well known book publisher, DC Books, knowing they would have a book shop in English.
After killing time, I hoped back on the boat heading back to Alappuzha. Again I wanted to stop at the villages, but not knowing the name of any place, having no map or schedule of the ferry, and knowing it would be dark in a few hours, I grudginly didn't take the risk this time and just stayed put on the boat.
Walking back to the guest house, I was feeling a little bad about missing out on the village visit and frustrated at knowingly being overcharged for mangos and tapioca chips. More reminders that I'm a toursit and not a local anymore. I stopped at the same tea shop where I had had breakfast for tea and snacks. The staff recognized me and were a bit more open this time. Listening to the people around me, I heard a few somewhat familiar words and, knowing that Maylayalam is close to Tamil, decided to try out some Tamil, hoping it would slide. I asked for 4 dosai in Tamil and the guy asked, in Malayalam, if I spoke Malayalam. I said no, but explained that I was living in Chennai and spoke a little Tamil. We spoke for a while, comparing Kerala to Tamil Nadu and the US. He introduced me to the owner and the rest of the staff and it was just the type of interaction I needed to lift my spirits.
Back at the guest house, I found that the rest of the gang had secured a houseboat for the next day, at around Rs 1,200 per person. This validated my decision to take the local ferry, despite the lack of village visits. After living here for a bit and my local travel experiences in MP, I think I'll have a hard time returning to traveling like a tourist. On the other hand, it was nice to spend the evening having beers and playing Shithead (cards) with other travellers, even if they do use toilet paper!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Summer Vacation
When I was sick the other day (I'm better now, thank you for asking), I went to stop by the little stall next to my house to pick up a few things. I was looking forward to this because A#1) I didn't want to walk all the way to town and B#2) I had learned all sorts of new Tamil things to say including, "I'm sick", "lemons" and "sugar" and the man and wife who run the store are always so happy when I ask for things in Tamil. But, to my surprise, the shop was shut; I have never seen it shut! I looked around and noticed that a lot of other shops were shut as well.
I was forced to get my supplies from a different stall, where the man only knows of me because I'm the only white woman who lives in town. I didn't even tell him I was sick and he wasn't impressed with my Tamil 'cause he hasn't witnessed the progression of my language skills. He just kept asking if I was from California. And he didnt have lemons. I asked where my friends went and he said, "tourist". I figured this meant they went on vacation.
Taking their cue, and because work for me has slowed down A LOT, I decided to take a vacation of my own and get the Efros outta here! This late in the game, all the trains out of town are completely booked (everyone is trying to leave 'hotter' Chennai!) but Jacob informed me of a secret tourist trick. Apparently, if you are a tourist, you can just bypass all the lines and tatkal (a last minute release of train tickets that starts only 48 hrs before the train leaves) and go to this tiny office in the train station to request a train ticket. I went yesterday before work and it worked! I got a confirmed seat on a sleeper class train to Kochi and a ticket back home!
So tomorrow night, I'm heading to Kerala. I've wanted to visit Kerala since college when I first heard about this small communist state with a 91% literacy rate (COMMUNISM!) and I just finished reading The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (recommended) for the second time, which takes place in Kerala, so it's really perfect timing. I haven't planned a lot, but hope to include a boat trip down the backwaters, which is supposed to be one of those 1000 things to do before you die, and a visit to Jew Town!
Bon Voyage!
I was forced to get my supplies from a different stall, where the man only knows of me because I'm the only white woman who lives in town. I didn't even tell him I was sick and he wasn't impressed with my Tamil 'cause he hasn't witnessed the progression of my language skills. He just kept asking if I was from California. And he didnt have lemons. I asked where my friends went and he said, "tourist". I figured this meant they went on vacation.
Taking their cue, and because work for me has slowed down A LOT, I decided to take a vacation of my own and get the Efros outta here! This late in the game, all the trains out of town are completely booked (everyone is trying to leave 'hotter' Chennai!) but Jacob informed me of a secret tourist trick. Apparently, if you are a tourist, you can just bypass all the lines and tatkal (a last minute release of train tickets that starts only 48 hrs before the train leaves) and go to this tiny office in the train station to request a train ticket. I went yesterday before work and it worked! I got a confirmed seat on a sleeper class train to Kochi and a ticket back home!
So tomorrow night, I'm heading to Kerala. I've wanted to visit Kerala since college when I first heard about this small communist state with a 91% literacy rate (COMMUNISM!) and I just finished reading The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (recommended) for the second time, which takes place in Kerala, so it's really perfect timing. I haven't planned a lot, but hope to include a boat trip down the backwaters, which is supposed to be one of those 1000 things to do before you die, and a visit to Jew Town!
Bon Voyage!
Monday, April 26, 2010
உடல் சரியில்லை (Body not well)
I'm sick :o( Literal translation, 'body not well'. I think all my gallivanting around 'hotter' Chennai on Saturday plus a late night of cheering on CSK (yeah, they won!) has lead to a vicious head cold, complete with nasty cough. Udal seriyillai, indeed!
One of the problems with having a cold in India (well, apart from the obvious lack of matzah ball soup) is that, as with everything, everyone has a different opinion about why you are sick and what you should do. And they love to share.
"You are not well?" they ask. Why aren't you taking any tablets? Judy thinks it's from the air conditioner, and that I need antibiotics. According to her, if you have a head cold and don't take antibiotics, it will affect your whole body. Vanitha thinks it's because I ate the ginger cake that Jacob made. Mani says I should go home and take rest (I love that Indian English phrase- 'take rest'). Bharathi thinks I need paracetamol (tylenol), Alex says brandy, and Jacob says lemon juice. The only person who made me feel better was Geetha, the tea lady. With her sweet concerned face, she asked in broken English if I was ok. When I responded in Tamil, she was so happy I was speaking Tamil that her face just lit up and she started smiling and laughing, which of course made me smile. I swear, I think I love her!
Taking my own advice, I scored some codeine cough syrup from the “pharmacy” and will be drinking that tonight (cheers, Amol!). And I guess Maggi noodles will have to be my Indian substitute for Jewish penicillin.
One of the problems with having a cold in India (well, apart from the obvious lack of matzah ball soup) is that, as with everything, everyone has a different opinion about why you are sick and what you should do. And they love to share.
"You are not well?" they ask. Why aren't you taking any tablets? Judy thinks it's from the air conditioner, and that I need antibiotics. According to her, if you have a head cold and don't take antibiotics, it will affect your whole body. Vanitha thinks it's because I ate the ginger cake that Jacob made. Mani says I should go home and take rest (I love that Indian English phrase- 'take rest'). Bharathi thinks I need paracetamol (tylenol), Alex says brandy, and Jacob says lemon juice. The only person who made me feel better was Geetha, the tea lady. With her sweet concerned face, she asked in broken English if I was ok. When I responded in Tamil, she was so happy I was speaking Tamil that her face just lit up and she started smiling and laughing, which of course made me smile. I swear, I think I love her!
Taking my own advice, I scored some codeine cough syrup from the “pharmacy” and will be drinking that tonight (cheers, Amol!). And I guess Maggi noodles will have to be my Indian substitute for Jewish penicillin.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
I Roar for CSK!!!
In lieu of missing The Superbowl, March Madness, NFL Draft, and UofM's spring game, I've taken to watching Indian Premiere League Cricket. IPL is somewhat new here and involves teams from within India playing each other in short Twenty20 matches. I'm not about to explain to you what this means, but just know that the games are 3-4 hrs instead of the usual test matches that can take days! My team, Chennai Super Kings (CSK), has come from behind to make it into the IPL Finals, which is tomorrow.
I have managed to learn the basic rules of scoring and getting out, etc, but there is still a lot I don't understand (leg bye- what?!) and it's just not as interesting as other sports (except for golf, which isn't really a sport anyways). But the real attraction to rooting for CSK is that it combines my two favorite things; love of India (Tamil Nadu specifically) and organized sports induced unity. Plus, their team colors are blue and yellow, how could I not root for them?!
I got so caught up that the other night I stayed up past my bedtime, on a school night, by myself, to watch CSK beat the defending champion Deccan Chargers in the semi-finals. Since I dont have a TV, I followed the online crincinfo.com play-by-play. It was just like watching the UofM games on ESPN Gamecast, minus the cute field graphics. Tomorrow night I'll be watching the match at some sports bar with Jacob, Shyam, and Hamsa, hopefully surrounded by crazed CSK fans. I feel pretty lucky to be here for this!
I got so caught up that the other night I stayed up past my bedtime, on a school night, by myself, to watch CSK beat the defending champion Deccan Chargers in the semi-finals. Since I dont have a TV, I followed the online crincinfo.com play-by-play. It was just like watching the UofM games on ESPN Gamecast, minus the cute field graphics. Tomorrow night I'll be watching the match at some sports bar with Jacob, Shyam, and Hamsa, hopefully surrounded by crazed CSK fans. I feel pretty lucky to be here for this!
Here is a pic of me with my cool new CSK waterbottle:
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Little Bastard
I walked home from the bus stop by a different route today because I needed to get some ice cream (I needed it). I usually only walk that way in the mornings, past the family/families who all wave and salute good morning (Auntie! Auntie!). When the grandma in the family saw me coming, she immediately stopped drinking her coffee and got up off her chair to call me over so I could sit in her chair, and yes, drink her coffee. Being polite, I accepted both offers. All the girl children came out from god knows where to surround me. The old woman doesn't speak any English, but loves to ask me a ton of questions, hoping I some how understand her Tamil. I just shrug, wobble my head and smile and try to guess what she's asking, while simultaneously shaking hands with all the kids. She calls over the eldest of the children/grandchildren, who I learned the other day has just completed the 9th standard (she's probably 14 or 15?), who grudgingly translates into English all the things she's dying say to me.
I learn that she (the old woman) has 2 sisters and 6 brothers, that her husband works at a fancy hotel and then possibly which kids belong to whom. I recognize all the kids except for one little girl. You can tell that they are related by their faces, but all the relations are explained as “sister son” or “bother cousin” etc, so, despite the English translation, I am no better off. It's summer holiday, so the kids are all out of school. Together, we count to 5 in both English and Tamil, which I can do.
There is also a young boy, who I learn will be starting pre-school. I dont know how old he is (I'm horrible at guessing kids' ages, especially Indian kids) but he can walk and talk a little bit. Upon seeing me every morning, he alternates between being terrified and overjoyed, usually the later. Today he seemed rather agitated and kept yelling, at no one in particular as far as I could tell, “Otha! Otha!” Because I have rude friends, I know the meaning of this word. Depending on it's usage, it can mean f**k or f**king or damn, or even bastard, it's kind of an all purpose BAD word. I figure I'm probably hearing wrong, but he keeps saying it and the rest of the kids keep looking at each other and giggling. The old woman gives me an inquisitive look and the older daughter asks if I know what this means. I say, in Tamil, “Ama, theriyum” (yes, I know it) and this causes even more laughter!! I give the kid a disapproving look while clicking my tongue. But, since everyone else seems to be encouraging it, and because let's face it, swearing is fun, the kid keeps at it and I just laugh along with everyone else.
I tell the woman the coffee was good, nalla irrukku, thank her, nandri, and get up to leave. I wave goodbye to everyone and tell them I'll see them again in the morning. Some of the girls walk with me a bit and we do the usual back and forth exchange of waving and “bye”'s until we're nearly at my house. Knowing they will all be waiting for me in the morning seals the deal on my decision to get up a half hour early tomorrow so I can wear a sari to work. I will wear the purple one, in honor of my cousin Stacey's birthday!
I learn that she (the old woman) has 2 sisters and 6 brothers, that her husband works at a fancy hotel and then possibly which kids belong to whom. I recognize all the kids except for one little girl. You can tell that they are related by their faces, but all the relations are explained as “sister son” or “bother cousin” etc, so, despite the English translation, I am no better off. It's summer holiday, so the kids are all out of school. Together, we count to 5 in both English and Tamil, which I can do.
There is also a young boy, who I learn will be starting pre-school. I dont know how old he is (I'm horrible at guessing kids' ages, especially Indian kids) but he can walk and talk a little bit. Upon seeing me every morning, he alternates between being terrified and overjoyed, usually the later. Today he seemed rather agitated and kept yelling, at no one in particular as far as I could tell, “Otha! Otha!” Because I have rude friends, I know the meaning of this word. Depending on it's usage, it can mean f**k or f**king or damn, or even bastard, it's kind of an all purpose BAD word. I figure I'm probably hearing wrong, but he keeps saying it and the rest of the kids keep looking at each other and giggling. The old woman gives me an inquisitive look and the older daughter asks if I know what this means. I say, in Tamil, “Ama, theriyum” (yes, I know it) and this causes even more laughter!! I give the kid a disapproving look while clicking my tongue. But, since everyone else seems to be encouraging it, and because let's face it, swearing is fun, the kid keeps at it and I just laugh along with everyone else.
I tell the woman the coffee was good, nalla irrukku, thank her, nandri, and get up to leave. I wave goodbye to everyone and tell them I'll see them again in the morning. Some of the girls walk with me a bit and we do the usual back and forth exchange of waving and “bye”'s until we're nearly at my house. Knowing they will all be waiting for me in the morning seals the deal on my decision to get up a half hour early tomorrow so I can wear a sari to work. I will wear the purple one, in honor of my cousin Stacey's birthday!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Hot, Hotter, Hottest!
Anyone who has ever lived here will tell you that Chennai has three seasons; Hot, Hotter, and Hottest!! And then they will laugh. My supervisor, Dr. Sathish, told me this on the first day that we met, back in Jan (Hot). I was happy, having just come from freezing Lucknow, and even colder Michigan/Boston! Everyone kept warning me that summer was coming and that I will hate it. Well, it's mid April, and summer is now just beginning (Hotter), and yeah, I hate it.
I finally looked up the weather in Chennai to find that is has routinely been 38-40 C, which, to my surprise, is over 100 F!! I should have known this already, since in the hospital 38 C constitues a low grade fever. But I think my brain isn't working properly because I am so far away from BMC (not like my brain worked any better over there!). Add in the 85-90% humidity and it's like a sauna over here!
Yesterday after work, Jacob was பக் பக் பக் (Tamil equivalent of yap yap yap) so I missed my bus. While waiting at the bus stand, just standing still, in the shade, at 6pm, I was dripping sweat. After 25 min, the bus finally came and, remembering the lessons learned from my previous bus groping, I sanwiched myself amongst the ladies in the back on the bus. Grope free zone! For the next hot hour, I couldn't move my feet (no room) and every inch of myself was touching someone else. I think it was one of the most crowded buses I've been on in recent memory. I could actually feel sweat dripping down my back and my neck; there were sweat drops literally rolling down my face and off my nose. I got off at Garden, thinking I'd rather walk the last 15 min in the heat then remain inside that bus. I looked like I just stepped out of a swimming pool! My hair and clothes were drenched!
Back at my flat, which is on the 3rd floor and despite the fans, does not really offer must relief from the heat, I attempted to make dinner; dosai and leftover sambar. Cooking dosai is kind of like cooking pancakes, involving standing over a hot pan, pouring and flipping, etc. Perhaps this wasn't the best choice for dinner, but the dosai mix needed to be used and the sambar had to be eaten and I'm reaching my limits with rice! The absurd amount of sweating continued to be a problem, but all the possible solutions had their snags. Turning on the fan would blow out the flame from the stove and opening the windows not only let in the mosquitos but would also allow my neighbors to watch me cook with my shirt off -- unacceptable! So, with the fan off and the windows closed, I cooked and ate as fast as possible, probably exacerbating the situation.
After dinner is done, everything cleaned up and I have a quick bucket shower, I finally allow myself to retire to my room and turn on the AC. Oh, how I love my AC! I dont care that it costs more then a months rent, more than five times the cost of my trip to MP, almost more than my plane ticket to Bali! At this point, I'm so happy and cool that nothing else matters. As I peacefully drift off to sleep, I think about how glad I am that I will be gone by the time "Hottest" rolls around.
I finally looked up the weather in Chennai to find that is has routinely been 38-40 C, which, to my surprise, is over 100 F!! I should have known this already, since in the hospital 38 C constitues a low grade fever. But I think my brain isn't working properly because I am so far away from BMC (not like my brain worked any better over there!). Add in the 85-90% humidity and it's like a sauna over here!
Yesterday after work, Jacob was பக் பக் பக் (Tamil equivalent of yap yap yap) so I missed my bus. While waiting at the bus stand, just standing still, in the shade, at 6pm, I was dripping sweat. After 25 min, the bus finally came and, remembering the lessons learned from my previous bus groping, I sanwiched myself amongst the ladies in the back on the bus. Grope free zone! For the next hot hour, I couldn't move my feet (no room) and every inch of myself was touching someone else. I think it was one of the most crowded buses I've been on in recent memory. I could actually feel sweat dripping down my back and my neck; there were sweat drops literally rolling down my face and off my nose. I got off at Garden, thinking I'd rather walk the last 15 min in the heat then remain inside that bus. I looked like I just stepped out of a swimming pool! My hair and clothes were drenched!
Back at my flat, which is on the 3rd floor and despite the fans, does not really offer must relief from the heat, I attempted to make dinner; dosai and leftover sambar. Cooking dosai is kind of like cooking pancakes, involving standing over a hot pan, pouring and flipping, etc. Perhaps this wasn't the best choice for dinner, but the dosai mix needed to be used and the sambar had to be eaten and I'm reaching my limits with rice! The absurd amount of sweating continued to be a problem, but all the possible solutions had their snags. Turning on the fan would blow out the flame from the stove and opening the windows not only let in the mosquitos but would also allow my neighbors to watch me cook with my shirt off -- unacceptable! So, with the fan off and the windows closed, I cooked and ate as fast as possible, probably exacerbating the situation.
After dinner is done, everything cleaned up and I have a quick bucket shower, I finally allow myself to retire to my room and turn on the AC. Oh, how I love my AC! I dont care that it costs more then a months rent, more than five times the cost of my trip to MP, almost more than my plane ticket to Bali! At this point, I'm so happy and cool that nothing else matters. As I peacefully drift off to sleep, I think about how glad I am that I will be gone by the time "Hottest" rolls around.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Madurai
This weekend I travelled to Madurai to attend the wedding of one of my colleagues, Vimal Raj. The wedding ceremony was nice, but it was a Catholic wedding, so nothing too out of the ordinary for me (except for when they played techno beat synthesizer music during communion). The reception was very low key. After we ate a huge communal breakfast (ceremony was 7-8am), the bride and groom sit on a stage and then everyone takes turns walking past them and congratulating them and their parents. Some relatives also place large flower garlands on the groom, which inappropriately reminded me of the Kentucky Derby, announcing Vimal as the winner! After a while, the bride and groom go into seperate rooms for costume change. It was at this point that I was complaining to my other colleague, Mani, that I have yet to see the super fun dancing at Indian weddings depicted in the movies. But then some kids at the wedding got up on stage and started dancing to the Bollywood music that was playing. Most songs here correspond to a movie, and therefore they all have specific choreographed dances that go along with them. These kids, about 5 of them, ages 7-11, knew all the moves and performed 4 dances while we waited for the newlyweds to come out again. It was a brilliant plan; an empty stage, music, captive audiene, what else could they do?! I loved this part as it reminded me of putting on dance shows for relatives when I was a kid.
When we were getting ready to leave, they called me up on stage and draped a pink shawl around my shoulders and we all took pictures together. Mani told me this is to honor me as a special guest. how lovely!
I had to be back in office on Monday, and my train ticket not confirmed, so I had to take yet another sleeper bus. But this one had AC, so it wasn't that bad. I had to share an upper compartment (a bit smaller than a double bed) with an older woman who I didn't know, so that was a bit awkward (but just a bit). I had had the window seat, but, eventhough she didn't speak any English, I could tell she was trying to tell me she was afraid of the edge so I offered to trade with her. Also, she had a ton of bags and snored the whole night! Needless to say, it was a pretty different experience than sharing a berth with Sathish on my previous sleeper bus ride; it's a tough call as to who makes a better sleeper bus partner! The driver was a bit crazy, always slamming on the breaks, and, despite trying not to drink much, I had to pee most of the night. Fortunately, we stopped at a place that had a very clean ladies toilet, so i was happy.
This Wednesday is Tamil New Year (well, it's traditional Tamil New Year, the actual new year was moved to Jan 14th by the Tamil Nadu government in 2009). We have the day off at work and I'm looking forward to going nowhere and doing nothing!
When we were getting ready to leave, they called me up on stage and draped a pink shawl around my shoulders and we all took pictures together. Mani told me this is to honor me as a special guest. how lovely!
Bride and Groom
After taking rest in the AC hotel for a big chunk of the afternoon, Mani and I went to visit Madurai's famous Meenakshi-Amman temple. This is one of the 3 major holy Hindu temples in India, and I was lucky to see it! The tis so temple is quite complex and how they even built such a structure in 1600 is mind blowing. Pictures don't do it any justice. We wondered around inside, visiting various shrines and stone carved statues. It was probably the most amazing temple I've ever seen!
One of the towers of the temple
it looks as if he's saying "can't touch this"
There was an elephant in the temple (yeah, a real one) who was blessing visitors. I had known about this from the elephant poem I was learning in Tamil (தொட்டு வாழ்த்தும் என்னை!). I held up a Rs 5 coin and the elephant grabbed it with his trunk and then touched the top of my head. It happened too fast for Mani to get a photo of, but here's one of the elephant;
This Wednesday is Tamil New Year (well, it's traditional Tamil New Year, the actual new year was moved to Jan 14th by the Tamil Nadu government in 2009). We have the day off at work and I'm looking forward to going nowhere and doing nothing!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
What the NEW Efros!!
My cousins Anne and Jeremy had a baby girl last night!! She's the first in the next Efros generation. I can't believe I'm missing this!!
Aurora Marie, welcome to the family! You will love it here!
Aurora Marie, welcome to the family! You will love it here!
Post Vacation Depression
I've got it. Bad. Even Geetha, the tea woman, has noticed. Work has become boring, Chennai is hot and I miss traveling. You know it's bad when you wish you were currently on a non-AC sleeper class train instead of sitting at your desk in your AC office. But the train is so fun. I love downtime (reading books, napping, writing letters), eating street food, and talking to strangers and long train rides combine all of these! Plus, there's looking through the open window or hanging out at the end of the car, wind blowing, watching the country go by.
I met some nice people on the train. One Indian fellow, recently married, who was traveling with his new wife to a large temple a bit North of Chennai. And the man and wife who occupied the bottom berths of our coop, who shared their oranges and sweets with us. I met an Indian fellow, Shyam, who had spent a few years in Chicago pursuing a PhD in something Biotech. His US visa wasn't accepted so he couldnt continue his studies and had to come back to India. Now he owns a lucrative construction business in Bangalore. He was on his way back from visiting a girl he met online whom he wanted to marry. It was their first meeting and he also met the parents. Everyone liked him, but he was denied because he wasn't a doctor. He was devastated because he says he loves this girl, and he knows that she loves him, but her parents only want her to marry a doctor. If this falls through, he says he will not marry and will only concentrate on making money and becoming rich. I learned all this within 15 min of meeting him.
Having spent considerable time in the US, he was reluctant to eat or drink any of the food at the train station. In fact, he didn't even want me to consume these things! I told him it was safe to drink the water and showed him which foods were safe, too. The food is a really fun part about train travel. When the train would stop at a station, we would hop off and fill up water bottles and then go looking for food. You never know what you're going to get. If you're lucky, you'll find tasty fried snacks, channa masala, or one of my favorites, bread omelette, which is exactly as it sounds, an omelette with bread being the filling! And ice cream is always a safe bet. Sometimes there are not so many food choices, and you have to settle for bland egg biryani. Or sometimes the stop is too quick, the train starts moving and you have to jump back on before you find anything good. One morning, our train went a record 7 hours without stopping and we couldnt have breakfast until 1pm. That was a tough one.
Another perk of sleeper class travel is all the hawkers passing through the car selling everything; drinks, tomato soup, snacks, books, toys, popsicles, buttermilk (yeah, it grew on me). I can still hear them, "chai, chai, caufee, chai."
And now I sit here in the relative comfort of my office, with all the people I see everyday, knowing that lunch time is coming in 10 min and that I'll be having rice and vegetables. BORING!!!
Feeling bad like this while I'm still in India makes me nervous for how I will feel when I go back home to the States. Yikes!
I met some nice people on the train. One Indian fellow, recently married, who was traveling with his new wife to a large temple a bit North of Chennai. And the man and wife who occupied the bottom berths of our coop, who shared their oranges and sweets with us. I met an Indian fellow, Shyam, who had spent a few years in Chicago pursuing a PhD in something Biotech. His US visa wasn't accepted so he couldnt continue his studies and had to come back to India. Now he owns a lucrative construction business in Bangalore. He was on his way back from visiting a girl he met online whom he wanted to marry. It was their first meeting and he also met the parents. Everyone liked him, but he was denied because he wasn't a doctor. He was devastated because he says he loves this girl, and he knows that she loves him, but her parents only want her to marry a doctor. If this falls through, he says he will not marry and will only concentrate on making money and becoming rich. I learned all this within 15 min of meeting him.
Having spent considerable time in the US, he was reluctant to eat or drink any of the food at the train station. In fact, he didn't even want me to consume these things! I told him it was safe to drink the water and showed him which foods were safe, too. The food is a really fun part about train travel. When the train would stop at a station, we would hop off and fill up water bottles and then go looking for food. You never know what you're going to get. If you're lucky, you'll find tasty fried snacks, channa masala, or one of my favorites, bread omelette, which is exactly as it sounds, an omelette with bread being the filling! And ice cream is always a safe bet. Sometimes there are not so many food choices, and you have to settle for bland egg biryani. Or sometimes the stop is too quick, the train starts moving and you have to jump back on before you find anything good. One morning, our train went a record 7 hours without stopping and we couldnt have breakfast until 1pm. That was a tough one.
Another perk of sleeper class travel is all the hawkers passing through the car selling everything; drinks, tomato soup, snacks, books, toys, popsicles, buttermilk (yeah, it grew on me). I can still hear them, "chai, chai, caufee, chai."
And now I sit here in the relative comfort of my office, with all the people I see everyday, knowing that lunch time is coming in 10 min and that I'll be having rice and vegetables. BORING!!!
Feeling bad like this while I'm still in India makes me nervous for how I will feel when I go back home to the States. Yikes!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
MP Trip Phase III: Kanha National Park
After a heartwarming visit to a rural village, and a "spiritual" experience on a holy island, how else could we end our whirlwind trip then by seeing a tiger!! This was our mission, and we would not rest until it was completed.
We had left the island on a bus to Indore, only to book another 14 hr sleeper bus to Jabalpur. The sleeper bus (non-AC) was quite the experience. The distance between the 2 cities is only 494 km, but due to poor road conditions and traffic, the journey takes 14 hrs. The ride was extremely bumpy, and, for me, sleeping was near impossible. This is also where I discovered probably one of my only major issues with India; lack of public toilets for women. Sathish tried to explain to me, unsuccessfully, that Indian women are expected, even trained, to not have to use the toilet on a 14 hr bus ride. I think that is physically impossible, and out of all the gender inequalities in India, for some reason, this is the one that upsets me the most.
Nonetheless, we made it to Jabalpur to catch, you guessed it, another bus- the third of this leg. I'm learning that travel in India, even seemingly short distances, is never quick and easy. But it does make for a fun adventure. We finally arrived at Kanha National Park and checked into Panther resort. After a quick, much needed shower, we walk to town to have tea and discuss marriage. I have never thought more about the institution of marriage than I did on this trip. And I'm still thinking, I'll have to write more about this topic later. For dinner we walked to a dhaba near our hotel that was recommended to us by a drunk fellow who couldnt remember the word for "left." The owner told us what veggies he had and asked what we wanted to eat. We had a delicious meal of gobi parotha, dahl, rice, curd?, roti, pappadams, onions, and a lovely homemade tomato relish. Dinner was accompanied by a debate about whether Facebook networking can actually bring about social change, and we all pledged not to kill any tigers we may see at the park the next day.
Woke up at 430am to get ready and meet our driver, Sandeep Yadav, at the front desk. We picked up our guide, Chandrakanth, and headed to park. It was early in the morning, and a bit chilly. Kanha stretches over some 1000 sq km and is home to ? 89 tigers. This place inspired Rudyard Kipling to write the novel, Jungle Book. We saw guar, jackals, birds, spotted deer, swamp dear, peacocks, but no tigers! After driving around for a few hours, we were ready to call it quits. We dropped off our guide and as our jeep was just leaving the park, the gate keeper told us he heard over the radio that a tiger was spotted. We turned around, found Chandrakanth, and headed over to the tiger. You have to ride on an elephant to get to the tiger (natuarlly), so we climbed up a scary ladder and onto the elephant's back. A short 5 min ride later, we came upon a tiger, napping in the grass. There he was, Shere Khan.
We had left the island on a bus to Indore, only to book another 14 hr sleeper bus to Jabalpur. The sleeper bus (non-AC) was quite the experience. The distance between the 2 cities is only 494 km, but due to poor road conditions and traffic, the journey takes 14 hrs. The ride was extremely bumpy, and, for me, sleeping was near impossible. This is also where I discovered probably one of my only major issues with India; lack of public toilets for women. Sathish tried to explain to me, unsuccessfully, that Indian women are expected, even trained, to not have to use the toilet on a 14 hr bus ride. I think that is physically impossible, and out of all the gender inequalities in India, for some reason, this is the one that upsets me the most.
Nonetheless, we made it to Jabalpur to catch, you guessed it, another bus- the third of this leg. I'm learning that travel in India, even seemingly short distances, is never quick and easy. But it does make for a fun adventure. We finally arrived at Kanha National Park and checked into Panther resort. After a quick, much needed shower, we walk to town to have tea and discuss marriage. I have never thought more about the institution of marriage than I did on this trip. And I'm still thinking, I'll have to write more about this topic later. For dinner we walked to a dhaba near our hotel that was recommended to us by a drunk fellow who couldnt remember the word for "left." The owner told us what veggies he had and asked what we wanted to eat. We had a delicious meal of gobi parotha, dahl, rice, curd?, roti, pappadams, onions, and a lovely homemade tomato relish. Dinner was accompanied by a debate about whether Facebook networking can actually bring about social change, and we all pledged not to kill any tigers we may see at the park the next day.
Woke up at 430am to get ready and meet our driver, Sandeep Yadav, at the front desk. We picked up our guide, Chandrakanth, and headed to park. It was early in the morning, and a bit chilly. Kanha stretches over some 1000 sq km and is home to ? 89 tigers. This place inspired Rudyard Kipling to write the novel, Jungle Book. We saw guar, jackals, birds, spotted deer, swamp dear, peacocks, but no tigers! After driving around for a few hours, we were ready to call it quits. We dropped off our guide and as our jeep was just leaving the park, the gate keeper told us he heard over the radio that a tiger was spotted. We turned around, found Chandrakanth, and headed over to the tiger. You have to ride on an elephant to get to the tiger (natuarlly), so we climbed up a scary ladder and onto the elephant's back. A short 5 min ride later, we came upon a tiger, napping in the grass. There he was, Shere Khan.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
MP Trip Phase II: Omkareshwar
Mid-squat, I glance over at the bag hanging from the bathroom door and notice the top to my water bottle is missing. Where is it? How long has it been missing? I can't find it in or around the toilet, and don't really have the strength or patience to go searching. Now that the threat of being sick (from either end) has passed, I try to remember what happened over the last 5 minutes. I'm having trouble because all I can think about are all those lame people who said they'd never buy a Sigg water bottle because “I'd lose the top!” That's the stupidest argument, I would say, how could that even happen?!?
I struggle to answer my own question as I walk back to the dhaba where I'd non-urgently left Sathish and GAPP, mid meal, to get some fresh air 'cause I felt that something was off. It's hard to explain; I felt weak and dizzy like I needed to eat something, but eating anything, even plain roti made me nauseous. Thankfully, the boys don't give me a hard time about losing the water bottle top or the fact that I committed a huge faux pas by not finishing, or even starting, the meal I had ordered. We agree that it's best that I head back to the guest house while they continue to explore the island.
With Maaza, Limca, and water in hand, I walk back and try to diagnose my symptoms. I knew I had not been drinking enough water since we arrived on the hot, dry, holy island of Omkareshwar yesterday and I'd had a headache since last night. Plus, we stayed up very late last night enjoying some holy offerings (don't worry, It's kosher for passover!) and then I had the brilliant idea to wake up at 430am to hike up the 276 steps behind our guest house to watch the sunrise (sorry Sathish!). We had found that our view was blocked by the dam (damn!) and after wondering about for 45 min, we had given up and sat on a wall at the edge of a cliff and just watched the town wake up. On the way back down we made a wrong turn (easy to do in the maze of alleys and stairs throughout the island) and ended up near the river. We knew where we were, but also knew this meant another big climb back up to our guest house. I had said, “I knew we shoulda taken that left turn at albuquerque!”, which Sathish will never find as funny as I did, despite the explanation.
It could have been the early morning adventure and lack of nourishment. It could have been the heat and dehydration. I was not having any “loose motions” as they call it here, so I doubt it was something that I ate/drank. Through process of elimination, I concluded it must have been the bhang lassis we had had for breakfast.
While Sathish and I had slept in after our disappointing sunrise, GAPP, who had smartly opted out of the sunrise, walked around the town and befriended some Rajistanis who gave him some bhang. When Sathish and I were deciding what to eat for our late late breakfast, GAPP appeared with 3 lassis and a newspaper package of bhang. I suspended the green paste into the lassi, quite pleased with my compounding skills, and drank it down.
Chalking up my symptoms to the bhang would support my theory that such things should be inhaled, and not eaten (caveat being reliable home made goods, of course). But seeing as it had no effect on Sathish or GAPP, I think it's probably the combination of many things that caused my near space out and resulting loss of water bottle top!
Apart from that afternoon, the rest of the time on the island was smooth and relaxing. Omkareshwar is sunny and windy and there was not a mosquito to be found at this holy place! We pulled out beds outside and slept on the balcony. We met some nice people at our guest house, including an Israeli couple. Having been left out of the Hindi and Tamil, it was fun to be able to communicate the few Hebrew words and phrases that I know (I like this house, I think I will bayit, why don't you put that book in safer place, etc). We joked that 2 of the Hebrew words I know, diarrhea and mosquito, were pretty applicable to India.
Leaving the island was hard, but we were ready for phase III; Tigers.
Pics from the entire MP trip
I struggle to answer my own question as I walk back to the dhaba where I'd non-urgently left Sathish and GAPP, mid meal, to get some fresh air 'cause I felt that something was off. It's hard to explain; I felt weak and dizzy like I needed to eat something, but eating anything, even plain roti made me nauseous. Thankfully, the boys don't give me a hard time about losing the water bottle top or the fact that I committed a huge faux pas by not finishing, or even starting, the meal I had ordered. We agree that it's best that I head back to the guest house while they continue to explore the island.
With Maaza, Limca, and water in hand, I walk back and try to diagnose my symptoms. I knew I had not been drinking enough water since we arrived on the hot, dry, holy island of Omkareshwar yesterday and I'd had a headache since last night. Plus, we stayed up very late last night enjoying some holy offerings (don't worry, It's kosher for passover!) and then I had the brilliant idea to wake up at 430am to hike up the 276 steps behind our guest house to watch the sunrise (sorry Sathish!). We had found that our view was blocked by the dam (damn!) and after wondering about for 45 min, we had given up and sat on a wall at the edge of a cliff and just watched the town wake up. On the way back down we made a wrong turn (easy to do in the maze of alleys and stairs throughout the island) and ended up near the river. We knew where we were, but also knew this meant another big climb back up to our guest house. I had said, “I knew we shoulda taken that left turn at albuquerque!”, which Sathish will never find as funny as I did, despite the explanation.
looking down from the top of the stairs that led to our guest house
While Sathish and I had slept in after our disappointing sunrise, GAPP, who had smartly opted out of the sunrise, walked around the town and befriended some Rajistanis who gave him some bhang. When Sathish and I were deciding what to eat for our late late breakfast, GAPP appeared with 3 lassis and a newspaper package of bhang. I suspended the green paste into the lassi, quite pleased with my compounding skills, and drank it down.
Chalking up my symptoms to the bhang would support my theory that such things should be inhaled, and not eaten (caveat being reliable home made goods, of course). But seeing as it had no effect on Sathish or GAPP, I think it's probably the combination of many things that caused my near space out and resulting loss of water bottle top!
I spent the rest of the day resting and recovering on the balcony of our lovely guest house and was even able to return to our favorite dhaba for dinner, happy that the old man let us eat there again given my previous poor showing.
Our fav place to eat in Omkareshwar
Apart from that afternoon, the rest of the time on the island was smooth and relaxing. Omkareshwar is sunny and windy and there was not a mosquito to be found at this holy place! We pulled out beds outside and slept on the balcony. We met some nice people at our guest house, including an Israeli couple. Having been left out of the Hindi and Tamil, it was fun to be able to communicate the few Hebrew words and phrases that I know (I like this house, I think I will bayit, why don't you put that book in safer place, etc). We joked that 2 of the Hebrew words I know, diarrhea and mosquito, were pretty applicable to India.
Leaving the island was hard, but we were ready for phase III; Tigers.
Pics from the entire MP trip
MP Trip Phase I: Gunaga
After the initial 25 hr train ride to Bhopal, the first leg of our trip brought us to the village of Gunaga. We arrived at one of the Bhopal bus stands to find the only bus going to Gunaga was currently being repaired, but no worries, will be ready to go in 15 min. We had tea and took pics and GAPP bet me a beer that the bus wouldn't make it to Gunaga without breaking down again. Thankfully, I won the bet.
Getting off the bus at Gunaga, I felt very out of place. I think even Sathish and GAPP felt out of place as tourists with backpacks, Indian or otherwise, don't really visit such places. Following Sathish's advice, we made a bee line for a tea shop, unloaded our bags and ordered a cuppa. Quickly, this tea shop became THE most popular tea shop in the village! Both Sathish and GAPP speak Hindi, so they were able to chit chat with the men at the shop, while I just sipped and smiled. The scene was best described by a poem, written on the spot by one of the men who says I was his inspiration.
After a while, we were invited to come to the house of one of the villagers, Prem BanshiLal. As we were leaving the tea shop, the owner would not let us pay, saying that we were his guests. Prem's family welcomed us into their house, gave us cool water and fed us chana nuts and local sun-dried vear berries. We were introduced to Prem's kids, Sachin and Manoj, and his friend, Nazeem Khan. We relaxed for a while and learned about Prem's family history and how he makes his living farming wheat. The kids were very shy, as they had never seen a foreigner before, but a crowd quickly formed at the house. Sathish began to play marbles with the kids, which they loved. Turns out Sathish is not as good as he remembers!
Then we went over to Nazeem Khan's house and met his family. They also served us snacks, including Loda, a sweet dish made with the dried vear berries that was delicious. Nazeem Khan's father is a retired truck driver who has been all over India. When I asked his favorite place that he's seen, he answered that of all the places, he loves his home village the most, which was just the answer I was looking for!
Prem offered to take us to his wheat fields to see the land and meet the rest of his family (the women and some of the other children). We rode in the back of a truck for about 5 min to reach the field. Here we met his wife, his brother's wife and some other women, as well as his daughter, Saloni. Again, since I dont speak hindi, I did a lot of sitting and smiling. But I noticed Saloni and the other kids were having a blast tackling and tickling each other, so I went to join them. This girl had the most amazing laugh and we spent a while playing, tickling each other, sticking our tongues out at each other and taking pics. This was by far my most favorite part of the day.
Sathish showed Prem's son, Sachin, how to use the camera and he took some lovely pics of us and his family. Also, Sathish made friends with a baby calf. We rode back to Prem's house in the truck again, this time I rode shotgun with Saloni next to me and Sachin on my lap. Prem's oldest daughter, Nidhi, served us some roti and sabji and then we said goodbye to the kids and walked back to the tea shop. Again we had tea, served by the tea shop owner's brother, then headed out. As we were walking, the tea shop owner rode up on his motorbike to say goodbye to us. He offered his house for us to stay the night (as did Prem and Nazeem Khan) but we thought it was best to keep moving.
Despite the packs on our backs and the blazing heat during our 4km walk to the main road, nothing could take away the happy warm feelings we got from the hospitality of the people of Gunaga. We all agreed that even though this as only the first whole day of our trip, our expectations had already been met no matter what else happened in the coming week.
Pics from the entire MP trip
Getting off the bus at Gunaga, I felt very out of place. I think even Sathish and GAPP felt out of place as tourists with backpacks, Indian or otherwise, don't really visit such places. Following Sathish's advice, we made a bee line for a tea shop, unloaded our bags and ordered a cuppa. Quickly, this tea shop became THE most popular tea shop in the village! Both Sathish and GAPP speak Hindi, so they were able to chit chat with the men at the shop, while I just sipped and smiled. The scene was best described by a poem, written on the spot by one of the men who says I was his inspiration.
Sathish making friends at tea shop
After a while, we were invited to come to the house of one of the villagers, Prem BanshiLal. As we were leaving the tea shop, the owner would not let us pay, saying that we were his guests. Prem's family welcomed us into their house, gave us cool water and fed us chana nuts and local sun-dried vear berries. We were introduced to Prem's kids, Sachin and Manoj, and his friend, Nazeem Khan. We relaxed for a while and learned about Prem's family history and how he makes his living farming wheat. The kids were very shy, as they had never seen a foreigner before, but a crowd quickly formed at the house. Sathish began to play marbles with the kids, which they loved. Turns out Sathish is not as good as he remembers!
Sathish being schooled in marbles
Then we went over to Nazeem Khan's house and met his family. They also served us snacks, including Loda, a sweet dish made with the dried vear berries that was delicious. Nazeem Khan's father is a retired truck driver who has been all over India. When I asked his favorite place that he's seen, he answered that of all the places, he loves his home village the most, which was just the answer I was looking for!
Prem, Sachin, Manoj and NK's father
Prem offered to take us to his wheat fields to see the land and meet the rest of his family (the women and some of the other children). We rode in the back of a truck for about 5 min to reach the field. Here we met his wife, his brother's wife and some other women, as well as his daughter, Saloni. Again, since I dont speak hindi, I did a lot of sitting and smiling. But I noticed Saloni and the other kids were having a blast tackling and tickling each other, so I went to join them. This girl had the most amazing laugh and we spent a while playing, tickling each other, sticking our tongues out at each other and taking pics. This was by far my most favorite part of the day.
Sathish showed Prem's son, Sachin, how to use the camera and he took some lovely pics of us and his family. Also, Sathish made friends with a baby calf. We rode back to Prem's house in the truck again, this time I rode shotgun with Saloni next to me and Sachin on my lap. Prem's oldest daughter, Nidhi, served us some roti and sabji and then we said goodbye to the kids and walked back to the tea shop. Again we had tea, served by the tea shop owner's brother, then headed out. As we were walking, the tea shop owner rode up on his motorbike to say goodbye to us. He offered his house for us to stay the night (as did Prem and Nazeem Khan) but we thought it was best to keep moving.
Despite the packs on our backs and the blazing heat during our 4km walk to the main road, nothing could take away the happy warm feelings we got from the hospitality of the people of Gunaga. We all agreed that even though this as only the first whole day of our trip, our expectations had already been met no matter what else happened in the coming week.
Pics from the entire MP trip
Monday, April 5, 2010
Too good, man
I'm back from my trip, all in one piece! I have lots of bruises on my legs (thanks 14 hr overnight bus on super bumpy road), a broken watch and a missing water bottle top. Other than that, all is well! Over the next few days I plan to post pics (pigs?) and write about some interesting things that happened on the trip. But in the meantime, here are some lessons learned;
- If you ride in an auto with 2 Indian fellows, Bangalore auto drivers will think you're a prostitute
- How to make vear berries into Loda
- Village kids dont care if you can't speak Hindi
- Don't eat bhang on an empty stomach and walk out in the mid day sun if you're already a bit delirious and dehydrated from staying up all night and trying to watch the sunrise.
- If you say you're checking into a hotel to sleep, people will think you're a prostitute
- Chennai is full of wasted fellows and Bangalore is full of useless fellows
- My stomach can handle food and water from the village, the train, the bus stop, the island without getting upset!!! (well, I'll know for sure in about 22 days)
- Rajinikanth = SUPERSTAR
- Marriage is a very complicated issue in India
- ஓத மொக்கை போடாதே!
- If you hold onto an Indian fellow's arm while crossing the street, people may think you're a prostitute
- "Save Our Tigers" still has a lot of work to do, but there is at least one tiger in Kanha National Park
- I prefer sleeper class to 3AC train travel
- I'm getting married in 2012 and will have 2 kids; a boy and a baby
- If I never eat poha again, it will still be too soon
- There is another person who mosquitos love more than me (GAPP)
- Indian fellows don't understand knock knock jokes
GAPP, Sathish, Me
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Go Down, Moses...
As Passover is getting closer, and I see all the comments about being home for Pesach on Facebook, I'm starting to get a little sad about being so far away. Like many Jews, Passover is my favorite holiday, and this will be only my third time away from home. Originally, I was going to meet up with some of the other AJWS volunteers in Delhi for seder, but my plans have changed.
I was invited on a trip to visit some villages in Madhya Pradesh. The people going on the trip have a similar travel philosphy to mine; low budget, locally supported, adventure travel. It's a great chance to see the local side of India in way that I'd like to travel but cannot do on my own because I'm a white American female (I know, I know, poor me) and I dont have the balls to do it!! I'm very lucky to have come across this opportunity. My travel mates are Sathish, a friend of Jacob's who I met at Auroville Marathon, and Ganesh, who I haven't met yet!! We have our train tickets sorted, but dont know exactly where we're going nor where we will be staying. Needless to say, it will be quite an adventure. Check out the website they've made to spread the word about this way of traveling.
With my recent mozzie problems, I'm most worried about bugs interrupting my sleep. Other than that, I'm not too worried. Also, I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate Passover into my trip. I'm not planning on keeping K for P, mainly because I think bread of some sort is a major part of meals in the village and I'm certain that no one in Madhya Pradesh has ever heard of matzah!! But I'm hoping for 0 of 10 plagues and a handfull of Dayenu moments!
On a completely non-India related note, please take a minute to check out this NPR Tiny Desk Concert of K'naan. You must listen to all 3 songs. The last one always brings on the tears!!
Wish me luck on my travels and make sure you set a place for Elijah at your seder, 'cause you never know who may stop by!!! I'll be back in Chennai Sunday April 4th, unsure of internet access until then.
I was invited on a trip to visit some villages in Madhya Pradesh. The people going on the trip have a similar travel philosphy to mine; low budget, locally supported, adventure travel. It's a great chance to see the local side of India in way that I'd like to travel but cannot do on my own because I'm a white American female (I know, I know, poor me) and I dont have the balls to do it!! I'm very lucky to have come across this opportunity. My travel mates are Sathish, a friend of Jacob's who I met at Auroville Marathon, and Ganesh, who I haven't met yet!! We have our train tickets sorted, but dont know exactly where we're going nor where we will be staying. Needless to say, it will be quite an adventure. Check out the website they've made to spread the word about this way of traveling.
With my recent mozzie problems, I'm most worried about bugs interrupting my sleep. Other than that, I'm not too worried. Also, I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate Passover into my trip. I'm not planning on keeping K for P, mainly because I think bread of some sort is a major part of meals in the village and I'm certain that no one in Madhya Pradesh has ever heard of matzah!! But I'm hoping for 0 of 10 plagues and a handfull of Dayenu moments!
On a completely non-India related note, please take a minute to check out this NPR Tiny Desk Concert of K'naan. You must listen to all 3 songs. The last one always brings on the tears!!
Wish me luck on my travels and make sure you set a place for Elijah at your seder, 'cause you never know who may stop by!!! I'll be back in Chennai Sunday April 4th, unsure of internet access until then.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Planes, Trams, and Ambassadors
If you've been paying attention, you'll know that I just went on a trip to Kolkata (Calcutta). Before I went, I was asking around the office for any recommendations and the best one I got was from Dr. Sathish. He said that in Kolkata I can try out soooo many modes of transport! And it's true! During my trip, I used air plane, cycle rickshaw, Ambassador car, tram, metro subway, bus and, of course, my feets. Kolkata is the only city in India that has a tram system. It's a very old rickety system and of course there are no marked tram stops. I hopped onto the #22 tram at Esplanade, and apparentlly did it wrong because they promptly made me get off and get back on again. And then, instead of heading North which I was expecting, it went to a completely different part of town. Not knowing where I was, I just sat back and enjoyed a tram tour of the city. At 10 cents a ride, it was well worth it.
Kolkata also has an extensive underground subway system (India's first!). The subway was fast and fun but just as crowded as everything else in India. They threatened to kick me out if I took any pics while on the subway, but I did manage this one:
Even the buses are different in Kolkata. I rode on some wooden buses that had the most uncomfortable seats ever. But they were charmingly painted blue and yellow, so they were forgiven.
Another thing that is unique to transport in Kolkata is the abundance of yellow Ambassador cars. Ambassador is a car manufactured only in Inida, and one of the main plants is just outside Kolkata.
And I also rode on a cycle rickshaw, and was surprised by their honesty when it came to prices. In Chennai, an honest rickshaw wallah is nonexistent! But we were told that the cycle rickshaw wallahs are in a union, and if they charge inappropriately they will be kicked out.
The city itself is beautiful in an old way. It looks like how I imagined India would look, kind of old and dusty. This is mainly because West Bengal (the state in which Kolkata exsists) is ruled by the Communist Party of India (Marxist), which happens to be the world's longest running democratically elected communist government (COMMUNISM!!). You can see the hammer and sickle symbol all over the city.
As it happened, I ate mostly street food while in the city. I like street food because it is delicious and extremely ecomonical, and you get to mingle with the locals. A common thing to eat in Kolkata is a kati roll, which is a kebab rolled up in a grilled paratha with chili sauce and lettuce and onions. I chose to have egg roll instead. It was tasty. I also ate some battered and fried eggs and panner and other fried breads with various chickpea, potato, soy chunk gravies. I drank an interesting salty sugary lime drink and the best ice cold lassi I think I've ever had. And lots of ice cream and popsicles. After chatting up some friendly Indian men at the open market, I managed to score some free tea and butter fried toast covered in sugar. I was all smiles.
Tea is served in little ceramic cups that are then tossed onto the ground and sometimes stepped on. It's like a mazel tov with every cuppa! The cups were cute and the tea stall wallahs chuckled everytime Jacob and I put the cups in our bags instead of onto the ground! They make great decorations, candle holders or shot glasses.
The guest house we stayed in was sufficient. I was so excited to have AC and a bed as I was in bad need of some quality sleep. But the first night was ruined again by mosquitos. I have no idea where they came from, but there were more mosquitoes in our hotel room than that night I slept on the balcony! I couldn't belive it, it was a nightmare! The second night we managed to fend them off by turning the AC down to 16C (61F), putting the fan on full blast, plugging in 2 different electric mosquito killers (one solid, one liquid), burning a mosquito coil, and sleeping completely under a thick blanket. Apparently this is what you have to do to get a good night's sleep around here! I'm dissapointed that the mosquitos keep showing up in my blog, but unfortunately they are a big part of my life here.
I got to visit the SAATHII (NGO I am volunteering for) headquarters. I met the SAATHII Country Director of West Bengal and had a nice chat about India and healthcare. I had previously worked with him over email to edit some peer educator literature about HIV issues in MSM (men who have sex with men) population for the WHO (Wold Health Organization), so it was nice to meet him in person. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the office watching the movie Outsourced on Jacob's computer while he taught the rest of the office something about computers (BORING!!). That movie is funny, but of course not all that realistic, and I'd recommend that you guys watch it.
Then it was back to the airport and back to Chennai. Again, it's good to be home! Pics from Kolkata
Inside the Tram
The Other Park Street
Inside of the bus
Another thing that is unique to transport in Kolkata is the abundance of yellow Ambassador cars. Ambassador is a car manufactured only in Inida, and one of the main plants is just outside Kolkata.
And I also rode on a cycle rickshaw, and was surprised by their honesty when it came to prices. In Chennai, an honest rickshaw wallah is nonexistent! But we were told that the cycle rickshaw wallahs are in a union, and if they charge inappropriately they will be kicked out.
The city itself is beautiful in an old way. It looks like how I imagined India would look, kind of old and dusty. This is mainly because West Bengal (the state in which Kolkata exsists) is ruled by the Communist Party of India (Marxist), which happens to be the world's longest running democratically elected communist government (COMMUNISM!!). You can see the hammer and sickle symbol all over the city.
As it happened, I ate mostly street food while in the city. I like street food because it is delicious and extremely ecomonical, and you get to mingle with the locals. A common thing to eat in Kolkata is a kati roll, which is a kebab rolled up in a grilled paratha with chili sauce and lettuce and onions. I chose to have egg roll instead. It was tasty. I also ate some battered and fried eggs and panner and other fried breads with various chickpea, potato, soy chunk gravies. I drank an interesting salty sugary lime drink and the best ice cold lassi I think I've ever had. And lots of ice cream and popsicles. After chatting up some friendly Indian men at the open market, I managed to score some free tea and butter fried toast covered in sugar. I was all smiles.
Tea is served in little ceramic cups that are then tossed onto the ground and sometimes stepped on. It's like a mazel tov with every cuppa! The cups were cute and the tea stall wallahs chuckled everytime Jacob and I put the cups in our bags instead of onto the ground! They make great decorations, candle holders or shot glasses.
The guest house we stayed in was sufficient. I was so excited to have AC and a bed as I was in bad need of some quality sleep. But the first night was ruined again by mosquitos. I have no idea where they came from, but there were more mosquitoes in our hotel room than that night I slept on the balcony! I couldn't belive it, it was a nightmare! The second night we managed to fend them off by turning the AC down to 16C (61F), putting the fan on full blast, plugging in 2 different electric mosquito killers (one solid, one liquid), burning a mosquito coil, and sleeping completely under a thick blanket. Apparently this is what you have to do to get a good night's sleep around here! I'm dissapointed that the mosquitos keep showing up in my blog, but unfortunately they are a big part of my life here.
I got to visit the SAATHII (NGO I am volunteering for) headquarters. I met the SAATHII Country Director of West Bengal and had a nice chat about India and healthcare. I had previously worked with him over email to edit some peer educator literature about HIV issues in MSM (men who have sex with men) population for the WHO (Wold Health Organization), so it was nice to meet him in person. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the office watching the movie Outsourced on Jacob's computer while he taught the rest of the office something about computers (BORING!!). That movie is funny, but of course not all that realistic, and I'd recommend that you guys watch it.
Then it was back to the airport and back to Chennai. Again, it's good to be home! Pics from Kolkata
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