घर मीठा घर

gone are the days of worrying about the air i breathe, the water i drink, the ground i walk on. here, they're all practically sterile. By eliminating all that is unpleasing, we also eliminate any wonder or interest or character that a place can give off. I feel like people here are missing out on so much by going through life so conveniently. people are just people; though the level in dignity may vary among them, the humanity then rings all the more true.

my re-adjusting has conjured in me a feeling of general disappointment. i'm sad and disheartened to see the streets empty, everything happens behind closed doors. i'm stuck inside my house. and when i go somewhere, i'm isolated in the little vehicle. when i interact with other people, a counter and sometimes even a window separate us, and the interaction is almost always exclusively based on money. where are all the people that come up to me just because they want to know my life story? and what about all the fun to be had in eating with one's hands? and what about all the "allo madam" greetings i used to get? and who cares if i don't shave or use shampoo or deodorant anymore?

i've found what's important in life, and i've failed to find any of that to be valued or even available here. some have inquired further and i've tried to explain, but it's very hard to articulate to someone who hasn't been through it. (prior to leaving, i had always tried to keep my mind open and aware of the big world out there, but having a "global perspective" doesn't mean shit when you are an outsider and a newcomer to a civilization thousands of years old, and people treat you based on a completely different notion of how the world works, these people call the shots and reshape your schema)

however, i will try to expound on my statement... things that are important can not be bought and sold or worn or slapped on the back of your car. "freedom" is so awesome to americans, but we don't express ourselves freely or give of ourselves freely. everyone is trying to find and assert their identity, trying to express their individuality. but think about it, why is difference and individuality so important? as long as we strive to show how we are unique or different, the higher our propensity to judge others by how they go about doing that same thing. and with all this business going on, we fail to give people a chance, to get to know each other, much less have any real sense of unity. we think we have a conception of "the american people" or "californians" or "Muslims" or any other group typically stereotyped, but all this achieves is a division which is destructive to assessing or effecting the common good. meanwhile, the powers-that-be continue to bank off our ignorance. and they don't give a fuck about how you identify yourself, as long as you vote for them and consume the goods provided by the special interests with whom they collude.

man, I just want to scream this stuff to the world!!! WAKE UP, people!

but it seems i've gone a little off-course and tripped over my soap box. back to my reassessment of priorities. communication. it goes beyond language, and nestles on the strand of the commonality that vibrates in every human. to share that with someone, to be stripped of the symbols we are used to relying on and it's just you and another person, seeking common ground, understanding is more difficult, yes, but therefore immensely more rewarding.

empowerment and confidence. from being in india, i learned that a person, especially a woman, needs to be aware of herself and her surroundings without being afraid. i had to come to own my body and keep my mind strong so as to not be swayed or manipulated. before going there, i was nice to a fault. now, i'm nice whenever possible, but know it's proper limit. i also learned to figure out what i want and to clearly assert it. this assertion is not necessarily a bad thing, but necessary if you want to get anywhere. this also goes with communication. being nice and apologizing for any accidental contact with another with whom you share this planet will not get you a train ticket, food, a seat on a bus, or anything else that may be even remotely desirable to the other 1.2 billion people in India. this is one skill though that has transfered well into the efficiency-friendly u.s. of a. (friends and fam, you'll get used to it.)

so yeah, great to see ya again, Amurr'ca, but i gotta say, you've really packed on the pounds since I last saw ya. was it all the comfort food, the comfy seats, or all the awesome tv shows that did it? none of the above? ah well, it's probably still not your fault... Now, im not really one to talk. managed to pack on five kilograms myself, (you can do the conversion to lbs, i dont want to make my self-deprecation TOO easy...), but america, you're really starting to worry me with your habits and ways, is this a cry for help?

another thing about your habits and ways, man, is that we haven't even been reunited for a whole week yet and already you're a bad influence. you're giving me ADD with all your commercials and shows and music videos. i mean i cant even get a full thought out in this blog entry without starting a new paragraph about somethin else! you drowned my friendship with good ol' Patience in your gallons of coffee. (btw, where else are the words "tall" and "small" synonymous?) You encourage me to buy worthless unnecessary shit that'll break or go out of style in a month under the guise of the "spirit of giving." Your simple-minded novels and movies numb my active and questioning mind. It's like I don't even know you anymore, and from my impression, I don't think i'd like to get reaquainted...

***

this is coming to you from the waiting room of the sacramento county courthouse, where i wait to serve my civic duty on a jury. back to reality, from one extreme to another.

the in-between

blank mind but heightened emotions. if my brain activity gave off light the glow would be dim by the time it struggled through all the gray matter to reach the perceptive centers of another.
havin' to remind myself i'm in india again. but this time it's different. instead of marveling at the potential forms that this clay of unknowing could take, i'm exhaling, reflecting on the past one hundred forty-eight days of life in this parallel universe.
one hundred forty-eight days of vibrant, racing, bleeding, screaming, mad mad mad life. life for life's own damn sake, rolling on the breeze of my fancy.
packin' up today with a heart like a jellyfish. body burstin forth and limbs slowly following. theyre more thoughtful. more apprehensive, more sentimental. if human nature ever knew accumulation they sure as hell know it now. i came to this motherland with three t-shirts including the one on my back, and two pairs of jeans. today i have to fit a whole apartment into a single suitcase
listless and languishing lying in wait im still young but these travels will put some weariness on these bones.
the hours dwindle between me and my departure. Desi and Hanna's booming laughter has never sounded so beautiful.

Strange times....

Sometimes children that are waaay too young play with explosives. Sometimes the same children stone me when I'm walking home from school. Sometimes my friends get rammed by a cow.
Most of the time people say "okeeh okeeh" to a question that requires a long answer. Most of the time I am in the spotlight. Most of the time I don't want to be. Sometimes old women shove in front of me in line. Sometimes they just shove me out of the way. Most of the time I don't have a clue I don't know what in Shiva's name is going on in my classes. Scratch that. That would be ALL the time. Sometimes streets flood with sewer water. Sometimes taxi drivers literally do not know how to drive and a figuring out the stick shift as they go. Sometimes one can hear chickens being killed from my bedroom window. Sometimes I wake up my roommate in the middle of the night because I'm laughing in my sleep. Sometimes I give people fake names like Christmas or Phallus and tell them I'm from India when they ask me the dreaded question, "allo madam which country?" Most of the time it deeply perturbs me. Sometimes I think of home and fail at pushing those sentimental thoughts out of my head. Some time is left for me to live this dream life. More times such as these will be had, for good and for bad.

When I Was a Blue Bead

9 Oct. 2010 Saturday
From one week to another I find myself pondering, pensive along the scillating shores of the Indian Ocean. Presently in Goa.
Thursday I danced with the fluorescent lights along the river.
Friday I felt the waves' frothy force crash over my entire being, wash away the worries of life on land. Sand sloughs complacency off my skin. Aggressive gypsy women make shop on my leg, refusing to leave without receiving fifty rupees or giving sufficient manipulation. Their reflective clothing doubly implores their subject.
By night friends and I took to the streets of Baga. Narrowly escaped the propositions of an acid-walla. The evening ended blissfully in Peaceland under a mosquito net.
Now a bobbing blue bead, the taxi is threaded by 150 kilometers of a Goan road's dividing line. Navigating by way of the Siver Star, Palolem awaits.

10 Oct. 2010 Sunday
Today we emerge from the sandy shores and take to the sky. Headed homeward, four days of reality lie maliciously in wait before I set out again, this time for Kolkata.
My mood is one of semi-indulgent satisfaction. I allow myself one rationing of Pinback, for I know I can't get sick of them after a weekend of beach-borne pleasures.
Thoughts on the definition of a home in comparison to feelings felt, usher in the unwelcome tradition. I much prefer to muse over the myriad of palm trees, swaying top-heavily from their big coconut bosoms, and the open-air cafes, open to the air of elongated exhales.
My only complaints are mostly minor: The pungent odor exuding from all of my clothes, the gruesome eight-versus-one brawl I fell witness to, and the hollow rapping of homesickness in a back chamber of my heart.
From where I sit there is no divide between sea and sky, only brief the culmination of ether, air and water punctuates the vastness.

Keralan Magic *sigh*

22/9/2010
"Listless" would be a good word to describe how I've been feelin' these past few days. My return from Kerala threw me unwillingly into the drab dispassionate
reality of school. I was initially relieved at a semester of easy classes, but they're not so much easy as they are a complete and utter joke. I don't understand how professors (esp. in masters-level classes) can get away with borderline-racist rants or just nonsensical babble. I miss being excited to learn and I miss feeling challenged to think critically, but here my greatest challenge is to stay awake in class, or at least to find the most discreet way of falling asleep in class. Winter quarter, I'm sure, will provide a turbulent transition after six months of my brain under-functioning. I've had my fill of stiff drinks to ease the bristling edge of this fact, and instead I find solace in Vonnegut's statement, to the effect of "the closest thing to proof of god is music." So I hang my cares to dangle from the gentle billowing of the guitar's deliberate and gentle plucking...
On a much lighter note, this negativity comes in the aftershock of what was easily the best week of my life. Part of the EAP program included a week-long trip to the sunny, southern shores of Kerala. This means everything was already planned and paid for, and all we had to do was float carelessly from one destination to the next, meandering capriciously to the calls of coconutty, ayurvedic, spice-laden desires.
Starting with a long train ride, I threw myself into the beautiful words of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, stopping only to sleep on the top tier of the sleeper train. When we arrived in the town of Kochi/Cochin/Kotchi, a van took us to our marvelous seaside hotel resembling a Spanish hacienda and complete with a dock leading out to the Arabian Sea. This is where one of Jesus' disciples came after Jesus' death and established Christian influence in India. Also, when the British came to colonize, Kerala was their point of entry. And now, Kerala stands as India's first and longest-standing democratically-elected communist government. Such distinction is certainly sensed when walking among the old colonial cemeteries and basilicas, and feasting one's eyes on the setting sun behind the nets of Chinese fishing boats.
The next destination was Thekaddy, home to the Periyar Tiger Reserve, where I got to go on a day trip of trekking and bamboo rafting (and leech-killing). Thekaddy lake is beautiful, with carcasses of trees reaching out of the water towards the sky, some capped with birds' nests, most left ragged from the whipping of the ripples. Falling asleep on the raft under the sun left my left eyelid a little burned, serving as proof of my unfettered submission to the warmth of nature's enveloping embrace. That night I managed to slip away from the group long enough to get an ayurvedic massage for some USD$10 and an extra-spicy thali which I ate with my hands and paid for with a mere USD$2! On top of that, I was lucky enough to seize the advantage of an odd-numbered group to stay in one of the Wildernest's HUGE rooms all by myself. As I wasn't one for partying after such a relaxing evening, I spent the rest of the night in shavasana pose, pondering the doability of a solo traveling trip to Pondicherry and the symbols and depth of One Hundred Years of Solitude.
I woke early the next morning to descend from the crisp, exhilarating mountain air to the backwaters. Two houseboats awaited us whose crew welcomed us with wreaths of jasmine and large bottles of Kingfisher beer. Overwhelmed by inspiration, I immediately perched on the front of the boat to write, desperate to document (in crude form though it was) the sights, sounds, and smells of the moment. The peacefulness of the trip reached its climax at tea time, post-impromptu yoga sesh, where, with fried, cardamom-enlaid plantain in one hand and delicious chai in the other, I finished my book under the pink sky of the setting sun. I read the last page over, not to let an once of Marquez's magic escape me, and set the pleasure centers of my brain to smoldering like the cigarette I had let burn to the filter, un-puffed in my preoccupation. I gave myself over to the night after that, playing cards and swimming in the inviting waters. One night on the houseboat was simply not enough. We awoke the next morning and emerged from our mosquito nets sleepy and sad to leave so early. Driving through the town gave me yet another view of India, one where the sun gushes audaciously onto the streets that are almost clean and almost free of beggars. I wish EAP had a program of study in Kerala!!

(Sorry people but I'm afraid one blog entry per month will have to suffice...)

BRACE YOURSELF: looonnngggg entryyyy

26 Aug. 2010. Thursday.
My current state is one to which I think my Swedish roommates might respond, "OYoyoyoyoy." I haven't updated in almost a month! And my! how the frequency of eventfulness has oscillated off the charts!! Oh and yes, I did use the plural form of "roommates," because I no longer have just one roommate as I did in ol' Tagore, but rather I have found a cozy lil' apartment just outside of the south gate, in DiAmOnD hEiGhTs!~!~! It's one hundered percent as classy as it sounds. Only the best for my delicate lily arse! But seriously, Natalia, a fellow UC student (from Berkeley), and Hanna and Desi, students from Univ. of Gothenberg in Sweden, moved in just Monday. This accomplishment was a long time coming, though; we finally found, after almost 3 weeks, someone willing to rent to a bunch of "bachelorettes" (aka unmarried Western floozies with loose morals). But like everything else in India, it worked itself out--not how anyone could've anticipated-- but it worked out for the better, actually! I love having to swerve around the cows on my bike and following the sounds of the frogs to find my way home after dark! In the daylight, my journey home finds friendly children waving to me calling me "auntie" (!!!!), women cooking curry and chapati, and pigs at play. Even a "gorra" (white person) like me can feel at home here! And right now I'm waiting for four familiar gorras to arrive at the building with their belongings to become my new neighbors! In the meantime though, I shall scramble to recount all the happenings of the last four weeks...
The weekend after my last entry I went with Liz, Colleen, Alexis, Rob, Tucker, and Elliott, to Vishakaphatnam, aka Vizag. We bonded to a familial degree! It was a 700-km journey to the northeast, and it ended for us at the shores of Rishikonda Beach on the Bay of Bengal. My skin was a worthy sacrifice to the sun for my reunion with her unbridled beauty. The water was warm and clear, and we made no delay in suiting up and jumping in. Then the beach patrol scolded us and we had to get out. At the boardwalk I met a camel, a horse named Ladyboss, and some mermaids. We stayed at the ashram of the International Society of Krishna Consciousness (the official Hare Krishna society). The next day we took an early train to the beautiful Aruku Valley inhabited by tribal villages. Once there we saw the Borra Caves, had a delicious lunch made by local women and served on a banana leaf, wandered through coffee plants, and scampered down a hill through rice plant terraces to a beautiful, beautiful waterfall! Alexis and I ventured out to the edge of the cliff to marvel at the lush valley below and green, rolling hills above. It was easily my favorite part of the trip. We caught the train back to Secunderabad at 6 AM, after arriving 2 hours early and the train leaving 1 hour late. Here is my diary entry written during this agonizing wait time:
Rats scurry about the dim & dingy railway station. It's 3:38 AM but oddly enough (or not) time has no feeling of rightness or wrongness. Cockroaches crawl across crates and carts and cookie packages in shopfronts. Some rats may be so bold as to venture between the pillars of my shins, while the roaches only retreat at the reproachful stampings of my feet. A train rolls in and those sleeping on the platform do not take notice. Clutching my thanda pani I can only hope the hours will pass sufficiently fast for an escape from the damp floors and watchful eyes of every passerby. In a place like this one can't be surprised by the multiple encounters with green slimy sludge. My first came in Yamunotri where I lost my new wool socks to a puddle of stagnant toxic waste green in color and encrusted with brown and yellow floating froth. Run in #2 came on Friday at the beach when, again, I mis-stepped while trying to traverse the rocky intertidal seashore. Waves and algae made for a dangerously slippery union as their wedding bed sent my feet from under me and left the love potion all over my backside. In a place like this it's also not surprising to confuse station stench with that which eeks from deep within the bowels. And the sleeping sleepers still sleep.
The following week was uneventful until I went to the history-rich Hampi that
Thursday. The open-air cafes inspired awe at the towering temples and holy rivers.
We rented scooters, got lost for 40 km, and rode around the beautiful beautiful town
visiting temple after temple. Also got to see the town pet, Laxmi the elephant receiver her morning bath! That night I peeked into the lives of so many Indian people. What a way to experience Hampi, as a small community going on as it always does, making no exceptions before the eyes of foreigners. We caught the Naga parade as we were leaving. Our bus just so happened to follow the scuttling sputters and croaking grumbles of engines laboring over hills and curves. On the bus the tension surfaced in the battle between old, the traditional, the sounds of sweet serenades with a rolling , easy beat beating leisurely along; and the new, the global, the World Cup, and Akon. Missed the train home and had to take a bus with a blacklight and minimal suspension over the unpaved roads. We got back to Hyderabad in the early hours of Independence Day. Delighted in the ceremony held on campus but wasn't allowed to go into town because of unfounded warnings of terrorism against Americans.
I'm finally closer to catching up now, phewwww!! Now I'll describe the previous week:
- went to a less-than-happenin' bar called Suraj on Tuesday night with my new roommates and Eric, Ray and Kotte
- took the local rain into town with Natalia and our Indian friend, Anjali, to patron the famous Karachi Bakery, Vindu Restaurant for a yummy lunch of butter paneer tikka, and then rode in the ladies' car on the way back to Lingampally station by campus. Spent some time at the craft village that I hate, Shilparamam, and bought a cool Madhubani painting of Ganesh and some sandals that proved to be dangerous and shitty on Saturday.
- Ate a pesto(!!) sandwich at Hard Rock Cafe Hyderabad and listened to an Indian Dio cover band...
- Saw Inception at IMAX for $USD 4 on Friday
- Went on a tour of the Lonely Planet-recommended sights in Hyderabad: Golconda Fort (SO cool!!! until I lost a chunk of my toe to a sharp rock...), Birla Mandir (great views of the sister cities!) , and Lumbini Lake, which separates Hyderabad & Secunderabad and is punctuated with a large statue of Buddha. Walking along the lake we got caught in the rain of course, and when we finally caught an auto-ricksa traffic was fierce and our particular auto died in the midst of it. The next hour or more until we got to our destination wore down on our wet bones only to be built up again by stiff drinks poured by a fire-juggling South African bartender. The ride home was by far the funniest yet...

This was Saturday, and goodness gracious, it's already Thursday today! Time flies when you're taking care of business on all fronts! Yesterday was a good day, since Hindi was cancelled I got to attend tea time! And from there set out on a short-lived hunt for sheets so I wouldn't have to continue rolling myself in my saree , when a big black zeppelin of condensed water vapor drifted over all of Lingampally and Gachibowli (neighborhoods near the university) and dumped its contents mercilessly and unprecedentedly. I can feel the pneumonia setting in. I was ankle deep in puddle within the first 3 minutes of downpour and lizards were swimming in the new river. I just can't even describe how it felt to be in the midst of nature's drama just after the sun had set, so insignificant and impotent and helpless against these ruthless forces. It was a good three and a half hours until the rain stopped go I could go home. BUT! twenty meters before the turn down the road to our apartment, the road was flooded so much that when crossing the puddle--on my bike-- the water was up to my calves. I couldn't understand what my neighbors were instructing me to do, I couldn't tell if the water was getting more or less deep, and I could barely pedal fast enough to keep my bike upright. It was NOT okay. I haven't left the house yet today for fear or reliving the horror. Still waiting for my companions to come move in, and Menomena is reminding me much too much of Sacramento life right now. All this remembering and recounting and time traveling is messing with me. I should really get back into reality with a good ol' smatterin' of studyin' for Human Rights...

Apologies!

Internet has been quite elusive since I got to Hyderabad, I will catch up as soon as I allocate a BUNCH of hours to do so. Eek so much has happened! :)

Settling in!

31/7/10
Today marks my first week in Hyderabad and my sixth week in India. I most definitely made the right choice in coming her instead of Delhi, in case I haven't said that before. I finally decided on my classes: Human Rights, Art History of Indian Folk & Popular Visual Culture, Intermediate (yeahhaaa!) Hindi, and Indian Philosophy. On top of that, I signed up for a 7 AM yoga class every day. The past 5 days have been hectic ones, for sure, but 9874 classes, 4 naps, a washing machine, a shower head, and a bicycle later, I find myself adjusting quite nicely.
Thursday night was Ladies Night, and the feeling was right indeed, for free drinks, a most inviting dance floor, and unlimited housemate bonding. The roof, I have found, is a great place to party, and I am soon to discern whether a bonfire and the on-campus lake will be as well. Tonight!
I made it into town yesterday for a little while, enjoyed some pizza and wine shop wares and came back to Tagore House for long enough to ready our group to go to Mocha, a super-posh hookah bar in the "hills," heyyy! I find comfort in the fact that there are nice areas like that (or like grocery stores!) which are easy to get to. Tomorrow we have an all-day excursion planned to better orient ourselves in the bustling Cyberabad. I'm quite excited, for what I've seen thus far, I like very much.
Perhaps it's the change of scenery or the ongoing sensory stimulation or the fact that certain themes have found various ways to me, for I feel especially pensive and inspired lately. Some of these themes include death and immortality, the role of individuality in contrast with that of the collective, and just trying to find the root of my thoughts and convictions in general. It feels good here, and I am satisfied that I am allowing this time to its potential.
By the way the looks of this place are more than just reminiscient of a mental institution.

The spicy, sunny, super-chill South

24/7/10
Namaste Ji!

I am currently on the train to Hyderabad, the "City of Pearls." My Lonely Planet guide describes it as "an elderly, impeccably-dressed princess" which is excellent, because those are the exact words I would use to describe myself. All of my hard work and preparation up to this point culminates at this very moment.
Since my last entry I graduated from Landour Language School, (an accomplishment that was certainly celebrated), and taken a 12-hour bus ride back to Delhi. I decided to spend my last day in Delhi at the Lotus Temple, for those of the Baha'i faith and all others. The temple gets its name from its architecture, as it resembles a lotus. It's a beautiful place, not only in aesthetics but also in feel. In a nutshell, the faith seeks to unite all religions by delineating the similarities at the core of each. To quote the protector of the religion, Shoghi Effendi, "The fundamental principle enunciated by Baha'u'llah...is that religious truth is not absolute but relative, that Divine Revelation is a continuous and progressive progress... that [religious teachings] differ only in the nonessential aspects of their doctrines, and that their missions represent successive stages in the spiritual evolution of human society." The more I learn about it the more I like!

Hour One of my 25-hour train ride, and I intend to update at the passing of every few hours:
The time is now 1800 hours, and the train departed from Platform 4 only half an hour ago. The carriages are so much nicer than I could've expected, especially at the sight of half of Delhi's population (so approx. 9 million then) in the station. We have 17 bags among the nine of us, each of them large enough to hold six months' worth of belongings ("samaan" in Hindi). At some point it was decided that only five coolies (Indian term for porters) would be necessary to carry them from the bus to the train, and the strategy to be taken would be to stack two suitcases on the head of each and make them carry one or two more. I even have pictures to prove it!! Back to my original train of thought (pun intended!)... I'm in a sleeper car with air conditioning and bunk beds, accompanied by four other girls from my group: Liz, Malin, Kathy, and Kim are their names. I am so content and excited to be progressing to another stage of the trip; this transition is a big one, and it involves my seeing much of India along the way!

Ahahaha, so almost 40 hours later, I finally update to say that I'm settled in my dorm in Hyderabad. It is so so nice and the food is good and the city is so much cleaner and cooler. Since I'm staying in the International House, there are like 50 other people, all of whom that I've met thus far are so friendly and easy to get to know. These are going to be some delightful four months!
The train ride was enjoyable and actually felt shorter than the 13 hour flight to India, I got a lot of reading, writing, card-playing, whiskey-sipping, self-reflecting, and friend-making done along the way, but by far the best part was being able to open the door f the moving train and smoke inside the cabin. And I'm not just talking about bidis... It didn't even matter that Eric became best friends with two Hyderabadi cops also riding on the bus!

Shabashhhh

Wow, after reading my last entry, it's obvious that all I'm used to writing anymore are formal politics essays. How dry.

Welp, I can honestly say this past week and weekend have not been as eventful as those past, much to my relief. The rain's picked up, so I've enjoyed a lot more movies: Lost In Translation, Sholay, and Veer Zaara, thus far. I've also started a new book out of a thirst for adventure and entertainment as opposed to autobiographic accounts. My current obsession is Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins, and it quenches my ADD-induced thirst like divine gatorade. I've also been journaling and writing letters, allowing me to throw myself into the sublimely relaxing practice of introspection, made all the more relaxing with the aid of Thai marijuana. On Wednesday my favorite day of the week, the entirety of our Real World: Himalayas cast threw a surprise party for one of our fellows who was feeling down. It was a great success, or as we say in Hindi, "SHABASHHHHH!!" (well-done!) We certainly put the BASH in shabash, might I add. Hours of dancing, a superfluous amount of people on the roof, and endless hash all conspired in favor of merriment and jollification.

This past Saturday I had the pleasure of visiting an NGO in Purkal that provides fully for the needs of women and children in rural villages, and engages in community-building activities as well. For the women, Stree Shakti employs them to make quilts and form self-help groups that allow the to generate real wealth for themselves. There's a childcare right next door that teaches them the ABC's, impressively good behavior, and how to bathe and brush their little teeth. The Youth Development Program seeks the brightest children from the poorest communities and provides them with not only a wholesome and high, high quality education, but also all the uniforms, books, food, transportation, and medical care they need. After 12th grade, the organization is an invaluable resource in bringing higher education and placement in leadership-oriented and lucrative jobs within students' grasp. I'm sure there's so much more I'm leaving out, so if you are is interested, visit purkal.org.

We got to dine with the students, see the women quilting, play with the little children (sooooo soooo cute!!!!!), and visit classrooms of 20 or so students with a partner. Emilie and I got to answer all kinds of questions, from, "have you ever seen the largest tree in the world?" to "what kind of animals are in your country?" to "do you approve of what your president has been doing?" We also exchanged national anthems and a few other songs, all the while amazed at how polite their demeanors and flawless their English. For the past few years I have known I want to do some kind of community-building work in some poor village, and seeing this NGO at work was more encouraging and motivating than any college course on the matter. I was sad to leave.

Rishikesh

I'm really feeling quite comfortable in this little lovable town. Picture Palace; Char Dukan (the Four Stores); drowsy, dreamy clouds that breeze past one's face both aggressively and gently at the same time; kind tailors who make me pretty shirts and invite me to tea and sweets; guy at the internet cafe who throws beerpong and Punjabi dancing parties and gets us fireworks for the 4th of July; and sweet pups that roam the cobble-y roads. Found some hashish from various undisclosed locations that have made for very happy hookah sessions on rainy evenings. The monsoon, however isn't what I expected. It rains at night and in the early mornings but is clear during the waking hours of the day. And that is certainly not a complaint. In Rishikesh this past weekend I got caught in a downpour of torrential monsoon rain that soaked me through and through by the time I ran just a few meters to the ashram in which my friends and I were staying. Last night I woke up very peacefully in the middle of the night. I noticed through our makeshift skylight that there was lightning violently and frequently flashing and "paint[ing] a pattern on my wall like the pieces of a puzzle or a child's uneven scrawl," to quote Paul Simon... I woke my roommate Noah up and we went outside to marvel at it from our huge vista overlooking the town of Dehra Dun. I could see the rain and not feel it, see the lightning but not hear the thunder, and I could turn the other direction and look up to see millions of stars, crystal clear. It was truly magical, the best of a million different worlds, and it was almost as if Mother Nature herself woke me up because she just had to share such a spectacle with me because she knew I'd appreciate it.

Today is Monday, and after Friday's classes I left for Haridwar with my roommates Emilie, Rachel, Becca, Noah, Camden and Ben. Two buses, an auto- rickshaw, and several km. walking in miserably humid heat, we arrived at Hotel Swagat Palace and collapsed in a dog-pile in the air-conditioned room. Such comfort came at a mere $2-3 cost! I just love India and its cheap cheap prices... Ate dinner at Chotiwala, a place with a "forlorn mascot" and gorged on delicious food followed by pineapple and strawberry ice creams. On the way back to the hotel, we were lured by an inviting archway and generously-hung string lights down an alley to an ashram celebrating the final night of guru-initiation festivities. We entered, (after removing our shoes of course) and a kind old man showed us around the place, where a huge meal was being provided to all who entered. The man* led us through the swarm of festival-goers eager to ask us "from which country?" or to offer a strong invitation to join them in eating the blessed meal. The man took us to a room inhabited by a statue of Rama and a very old man worshipping a picture of what seemed to be his own image, and then to a statue of the previous guru that a boy told us was his god. It was here that an old, white-facial-haired woman took me by the arm and spoke very imploringly in what I can only semi-confidently assume was Hindi. We escaped up the stairs and into a room where the new guru was handing out blessed mangos and sugar packets. By the time we went downstairs, acquiescing to eating the meal was no longer an option. Nor was wasting any food. So we packed our already stuffed stomachs even fuller and walked laboriously back to our Palace.

We left Haridwar the next midday after a shmoozing with some more locals down by the Ganges, feeling dismayed at the ticket line for a cable car ride to a famous temple, and especially after seeing a poor poor man, naked, and barely alive, rotting in the streets. By far the most harrowing sight yet; any description I could think of could not possibly do it justice.

We got to Rishikesh about an hour or two later, and rented some rooms in the Shri Sant Sewa ashram. I hate to say it, but the vibe the place is going for is a little contrived. They know what the typical [American ("hippie")] tourist is hoping to find there, and they cram the streets with shops selling the associated paraphernalia and souvenirs. The yoga classes are reminiscent of those one might find in a YMCA, and the cafes reminded me of what I imagine Cabo to be like. Regardless, I managed to enjoy myself at the pooja ritual of singing Hare Krishna and other beautiful songs before a huge statue of Shiva and the setting sun, as people lit leaf bowls of flowers aflame and sent them down the fast-moving Ganges. As previously mentioned, the monsoon rain made its debut while we were there and by the time we got to our room we embraced the downpour and danced in the rain on the rooftop. We got back to Mussoorie late the next night, but the long bus ride was not unpleasant. Towards the top of the hill, Noah, who was sitting in the back with 5 or 6 young Indian men, pulled out his flute and began to play for them. The man in front of Ben, Camden, and Rachel took a drum from the overhead shelf and provided a beat. It was the combination of the two, however, that provided every individual on the bus with delight and animation. But other than these chance occurrences, I've been having a hard time finding music that suits my feelings, which is both sad and challenging me to unpack what exactly I am feeling.

As you can tell, I'm feeling quite verbose due to heady nature of my surroundings and activities. Your patience in reading to the end is indicative at least somewhat of your support my endeavors, and therefore appreciated.

*Just as a side note, you might also find it amusing that this man we thought was born and raised and lived in India revealed to us he lives in San Jose, CA, and that he received a phone call from the guru himself to come to India for the festivities.

5 July, 2010

So I have been in Mussoorie for a little over a week now, and started the intensive Hindi program. And believe me, that is no exaggeration on the intensive part. I go from 8;20 to 12:10, and have at least an hour of homework every night. A lot of it is learning the script, and thus far I'm doing pretty well, it just takes me so long to formulate a sentence. Also, it's very humbling to try to read a completely new language with completely different letters, but it's kindof cool that the sign become less and less gibberish to me, and it actually makes a lot of sense to have 46 letters for phonetic purposes. I also enjoy the 45 minute chai break in between the 2nd and 3rd classes. This activity has introduced me to the bidi, which is tobacco rolled into a grape leaf for smoking purposes. So aromatic and light!

This past weekend I went to Jankichatti which is even closer to the Himalayas. From there our Hindi teachers led us on a hike up to a popular pilgrimage spot called Yamunotri, tracing the Yamuna River all the while. The path was rough and uphill and covered in horse and donkey shit, but the views were beyond beautiful, so rewarding. The temple at the top had a hot spring in which we had to bathe (semi-naked) before entering the actual temple. Never has my hair felt so nourished as it had by that hard mountain water! The temple had much to offer with its rites and rituals, and I got to help some Brahmins collect water from the river! Though I'm not one for religion, the sheer beauty and energy of my surroundings was enough to tap into the strings of my heart.

In Jankichatti a friend and I also visited a Krishna temple and got caught there by the rain. We played badminton with some kids until it passed and saw a butterfly whose wings had the markings of a yin-yang. Another day that weekend i and two others sought the serenity of the river to read, play flute, etc. Much to our dismay, we reached the water's edge only to find a very precarious path created by splats of human shit as far as the eye could see. We tried to scamper in and out of the water to find a safe spot, but all was lost after getting halfway across a deep river with a strong current and we began to turn back in discouragement. I had my new wool socks in my pocket to keep them from getting wet, and juuust as I set foot on a rock on the "safer" side of the river, the socks fell out and landed in the stagnant, green, bubbly, brown-and-yellow-crusted-over pool of steaming shit water. Regretfully I ditched them there.

The cab rides there and back were some 8 hours each, spent taking pictures and sleeping and trying to read, but mostly gawking at the rapidly changing vegetation and hillside terraces. On the way there we stopped at some random spot, which turned out to be glorious!! I had been dying to bathe in the water the whole ride, and when I leapt from the car to do so, I was pleasantly surprised to meet a bed of wild marijuana as I was running down to the river. Those who were awaiting me in the water and those who soon followed certainly passed the cool test in my book.

Last night was the 4th of July. We were able to get some fireworks and way too much whiskey and danced in the rain with some students from Brown University til the night just got way too out of hand. That's all I care to say about that, other than it wasn't quite as bad as it sounds.

I suppose that's enough for now. Apologies for re-routing you to facebook for photos, and for not uploading any videos at all yet, but I'm hoping all this nonsense will end once I get to Hyderabad... Will post again next week.

Himalayan Foothills Retreat :)

My last day in Delhi was low-key until it took a sharp turn for the better that evening. I went with a bunch of other girls to Palika Bazaar, which is like a really sketchy mall, but it's underground, which makes it even more sketchy but immensely fun! I was able to compensate for the lack of clothes I brought, by buying two shameezes (sp?) which are Punjabi outfits, a cute white silk top, and a kurta top. The mid-day was spent relaxing at the Y until our orientation for our universities. During our break I wandered off to explore the nice convention center that seemed so out of place in dirty Delhi, and I ended up stumbling upon a Tagore cultural performance and Bengali Baul music performance. I shall try to post videos of each. I just was so so happy I was so lucky to make the most of the night.

Yesterday, though, was the move to Mussoorie for our Intensive Language Program. Um, did I mention it's in the foothills of the Himalayas? NBD that it took us 13+ hours plus a tire replacement to get here, because I am overwhelmed with an unprecedented sense of calm. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm in fucking INDIA in the Himalayan foothills, and the feeling of that reminder, let alone that of the actual gravity of its reality---well actually I can't even describe it. The pictures I take and the words I try to conjure up just can't capture it.

THE TAJ MAHAL!

Ok so on Thursday I went to the TAJ MAHALLLLLLLLL!! I also had the privilege of going to Agra Fort, the capital of the Mughal Empire as long ago as the 12th century, I believe. Both were utterly breathtaking.

I, along with the other 8 Hyderabad students took a tourist van on a 5 hour drive from Delhi to Agra, which was long but exciting the entire way. When the driver pulled over and briefly got out of the car, all of us were excited to see monkeys coming up to our car and doing backflips in front of the window, and when they actually jumped onto the van we started taking pictures. "Yay! It's like Jumanji!" What an awful idea, because that set the monkey's leash-weilders to banging on our windows demanding money. They tried to open the windows upon our refusal, and opened the doors upon our closing the curtains. Well, that's when we all started FREAKING out, screaming, exclaiming things like "where is our driver!" and "What kind of travel agency did we go through?! Is this a scam?!" And that's when the driver came back to the rescue! But we certainly gained a lesson in monkey business, so all was not lost.

When we finally got to the Taj Mahal, I had no idea how huge it was or how much there was to see in one place, So much more than the typical pictures that are out there. Theres a beautiful courtyard and two mosques on either side, which are quite possibly on par with the beauty of the Taj. The surrounding gardens and pools just add to the effect. Regrettably, though, I was quite distracted for much of the time because other visitors were asking me to take pictures with them, and there was a point where someone sat me on a bench and others came and went doing the same. After that I swore off any more photos unless I could hold an adorable newborn, and lo! I got to!!! But I was really astonished that the requests never ceased until I finally left.

Agra Fort was a short distance away, but much larger and with many more interesting parts to explore. The centuries-old stairs led to a rooftop balcony where the throne, which I imagine covered in beautiful luxurious rugs and cushions upon which Shah Jahan sat, overlooked all of Agra and the Taj Mahal. Other tourists were incredibly friendly as they recognized my white skin and vibrant saree from the first site. By the time we left, it had been a very long and blazing hot day which left me very excited to sleep on the bus ride back the YWCA.

Another Update from Delhi

So, more about my time in India thus far... I continue to be enthralled by trying to understand what life in India must be like for an Indian. The contrast with American life is just so harsh that I can't imagine the homes that people go home to or how they provide for their families. One thing I have learned though, is that it is impossible to stereotype them, because all around me is such diversity.

Aside from the constant soul-piercing stares and occasional being taken advantage of, a lot of the people here are very nice, and I try not to question their motives or swear off further contact after negative encounters. They are very eager to help and haven't once asked me for money in return, only yesterday Vijay (who, might I add, has the words "Michael Jackson" tattooed on his left arm) asked for something American to remember us by. Early on I have learned to be patient and not rush into buying things I think I want. I've ended up paying too much for things I could get so many other places and feeling like a fool.

Which brings me to another point, shopping is so overwhelming. The second you show interest in something the vendor will come up to you and pull out a million other things to show you, but won't let you look at the selection yourself. I know what I like, and I'm very picky even though I can be indecisive, which has proven to be a formula for chaos in some of these shops and bazaars. Also, in India, everything is negotiable, which forces me out of my comfort zone of being nice to a fault, and forcing me to be assertive, because I know this stuff definitely does not hurt their feelings; they're so used to it. On the bright side, my outrage at being jipped serves this cause.

Last night we had a small party in the hallway downstairs. It was really quite nice to sit in the hallway with the big open windows, drink beer and diluted whiskey, smoke cigarettes and sing ridiculous pop songs sweating bullets all the while. I was 11:30 at night but it was still over 100 degrees. I swear to Vishnu that it feels like I have known these people so much longer than I actually have! There isnt a single person I dislike and am pleased to see no cliques forming thus far. Apparently to want to do EAP in India, you have to be pretty badass.

Today the other people in the Hyderabad program and I went to complete the process of having our visas registered. This time was actually quite enjoyable, as I learned how to play a new card game called gumsh. I'll show you guys when I get back! AND the wait was only 1 1/2 hours! Trying the Indian version of snus was much less enjoyable, as it burned and smelled and tasted like very strong cleaning chemicals. I got to try out a classmate's new hookah and finally got my cell phone up and running, and finally rode in a rickshaw for my first time! I shall post the video below.

I apologize for the long posts which must be difficult to commit to reading, but I would simply hate to leave out any details! The final detail, however, is for Chakira, if you're reading this: I have put lots of warm energy and water from the Sikh temple into your neckalce thus far. Also, I am beginning to read Autobiography of a Yogi today!

Post Number 1

Greeeetings to you all! I begin my blog on my third day in Delhi. It took a 13 hour flight to Taipei and a 7 hour flight to Delhi to get here, and now I find myself a 12 1/2 hours into the future.

I've already begun to have so much fun here, and my sensory perceptions have been amplified to an unprecedented intensity. I'm sweating more and getting dirtier than I ever have, and even at nights it doesn't cool down more than ten degrees in relief of the 110-degree heat. (I wonder what that is in celsius...?) This is certainly no ordinary vacation, but rather everything is much more confusing and exhausting. But at any rate, its just so rewarding to really feel so much, theres no buffer zone of ease and comfort to alienate me from my truest experiences...

OK, so a brief recap of everything I've done since my arrival, since time is limited and the internet costs money...
-We arrived in Delhi at 12:20 pm Sunday, and I was mostly exhausted and jet lagged after lunch, so i slept until 9, when i was awoken by the party in the room next door. When I get back to my laptop i will post photos from the end of a night of drinking large bottles of warm beer, "COX 10000," which tasted like a warm, bubbly meal.
-Yesterday after breakfast all of us in the Hyderabad program were taken to the police office to have our visas registered, which actually meant sitting in an un-airconditioned hallway for no joke 5 hours, watching birds fly in and out of the window. (when we were walking down the stairs to leave, a TODDLER spit on one of the girls in my group!)
-Tedious paperwork followed, after which we were FINALLY free to roam about, and we learned QUICKLY that any group larger than 4 is completely and utterly impractical.
-We went to Main Bazar, where I bought a saree and some aladding paants, which I refuse to ever take off seeing as how they are the single most comfortable article of clothing imaginable.
-That evening we checked out a bar called Castle 9, which was more of a nicer restaurant than a bar... and considering that all they had to offer was foster's, i will withold judgment until i can compare it to other bars.
-The best thing thus far though, was waking up at 5 am to go to a Sikh temple down the road from the YWCA Int'l Guest House where we're staying this week. it was sooo beautiful and i was thrilled to participate in all of the little rituals such as removing my shoes, wearing a loner head covering and sitting listening to the tabla and whatever the other instrument is called. i walked around the big pool and dipped my feet in at the end. i tried my best to just be present in the moment and set the tone for other such experiences to come.
-The rest of the day was most stressful indeed, I got jipped on a phone which still isnt working, and the shopping experience is one i have yet to get used to ( more on that later). We did however, meet 2 really nice Indian guys, Viki and Vijay, who showed us around and took us to all the places we wanted to go to get the things we needed. And all they asked in return was something American for them to remember us by! I wanted to ask Viki for his shirt, which read "If being sexy is a crime...ARREST ME!"
Until then I had no clue how difficult it would be to find things, all the stores are hidden and you dont know from the outside if its acutally somewhere you should go into. I'll have to post pictures of that too, but everything is in crumbling buildings and away from the road behind other crumbling buildings and construction zones, which probably always have and always will be there. The smells go in and out of my nose so quickly that it actually achieves quite a nice harmony between the incense and disgusting piss and shit and rotten trash. Needless to say I have yet to drink the water...

So hopefully I will stay on top of my posts so that I can go into more detail, oh theres so much to tell! but for now i really need to take a nap, getting four hours of sleep and wandering in the heat all day can really tire one out, so that is all for now.

XXX