- 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
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Some things I forgot to mention....
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!
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