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.