So much is happening each day that my roomie, sioned, and I wake up early in the morning to blog!! Hehe!
12/30/2010
Today was such a big day! It was a day of sightseeing and sightsee we did (all of the photos in my second India album will visually narrate this post). We all appeared at breakfast dressed in our Indian clothes and good thing because today was quite warm! Even though it might look silly, dressing like an Indian helps me take on the mindset and feel more settled. We began our day at the tombs of the Qutub Shahi Kings, which were muslim rulers in the city of Hyderabad around the 15 and 16th centuries. These tombs rose from the ground and elegantly stretched toward the sky. Every now and then when walking in the city I will see a pregnant woman and surprise…preggers Indians wear saris too!! These tombs reminded me of these big, round sari cloaked bellies I find so fascinating! In their heyday these tombs were covered with plaster and painted brilliant turquoise and green!! That must have looked magnificent! The architecture was very geometric and I was very intrigued. Now that I recognize this muslim influence on architecture, I have been able to identify it in other parts of the city. Hyderabad is a hybrid city..coincidence, I think not!
Next, we traveled to the toilets. Seriously, we took a bus ride to a beautiful palace (which we would visit later) to use a toilet, then hurried off to a mosque. Ok, the bathroom situation is Really intriguing! In the Tangore House we have access to western toilets, but in a public setting the Indian toilet is all the rage. It is essentially a hole in the ground (this first encounter was porcelain, since it was at a palace) with tread marks for your feet on either side of the hole. Successfully aiming urine at the hole and not all of the flowy Indian fabric is an art form. Apparently one must squat deeply, and gather up everything in the spray zone. I actually haven’t attempted this feat yet, because I was not well hydrated at this moment, but I assure you my time will come (and if you guys are lucky ill blog about it). I have a lot more to say about Indian potty habits, but I don’t know if you guys would enjoy hearing my potty ponderings. Well, I will have to take that risk, because I think this is fascinating. There is no toilet paper in public bathrooms, so if you forget to bring your own you must get creative (one of my mates used his left sock and is now one sock short). Beside every Indian toilet is a bucket of water, and after much confusion and inquiry, I discovered it is to splash water on the buttox to clean after any excretion. I feel like solely using water and hand to “wipe” poses MANY issues. This is precisely why Indians never eat with their left hand! The duties of the left hand are between bucket and bum, while the right enjoys eating and greeting.
On to the mosque- in a city like Hyderabad, it is imperative to own at least one good scarf, so you can cover your head when approaching mosques or other holy sites. We checked our shoes at the door (I must admit I had the fleeting thought of giardia) and proceeded through the outer prayer area. Before entering the inner prayer area we were cleansed with a tap on the head from a peacock feather broom and ashes on our lids. None of us where allowed in the shrine, and we learned that muslim women are never allowed to pray within its walls. The mosque itself was a fortress, such a militaristic building. And the arches used to gain access were covered by metal grating. Unfortunately the metal grates really took away from the aesthetics of the mosque, and I really couldn’t see inside easily. I liked the feeling of the mosque. The crazy street was merely feet away, but inside the courtyard it was so peaceful. A little oasis, and many Indians were actually napping on the mosques steps.
Following the mosque, we returned to the palace. We toured its ornate halls and ate a fancy lunch in a side room. Then off to the bus for a nap and transit to Galconda Fort. The Galconda Fort was the structure from which the Qutub Shahi Kings ruled. This might have been my favorite part of the day. Twilight was setting in and we trekked across its sprawling grounds taking in its ancient walls. It felt so good to get exercise as we climbed toward the lookout post atop the hillside. From the highest point, you could put Hyderabad in your pocket! As we ambled along, Indian children and families asked to take their picture with us. Little girls in a fit of giggles inch toward us and shyly ask for our picture! We happily posed with them and chatted with them. Atop the outpost, one band of schoolboys took particular interest in Ben. They swarmed him and began chanting. One of the girls in our group let ben’s name out of the bag, and about 30 preadolescent Indian boys surrounded ben with fists in the air shouting “BEN! BEN! BEN!” This drew more attention to the Americans, and suddenly men and women of all ages were asking for pictures, wanting to exchange coins and shake hands. The night ended with a sound and light show at the Galconda Fort, which I slept through because I couldn’t keep my lids open!!!Exhausted, I fell into bed when I arrived home.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
extremes:shopping and slums
12/29/2010
I had so much trouble sleeping in last night due to the million thoughts running through my head, the jet lag and the promise of shopping in the morning, so I rose at 3:30 am and fixed some of my computer issues, journaled, and thought through what we experienced yesterday. This is seriously going to be my wall of therapy! After several hours of fussing around and a quick breakfast, we hopped in the bus and were on our way to FabIndia!! Ok, driving in the big bus makes me want to yack everywhere. I have staked out a seat in the front row, and every time we drive somewhere, I have to close my eyes to reach my happy place and tell myself its mind over matter. Our drive to FabIndia was the closest I have been to spewing everywhere! Upon our arrival, I had to sit motionless outside for a few minutes feeling especially green.
FABINDIA! Is amazing!!!Most Indian clothes, especially saris, are hand tailored for a super economical price, but FabIndia is one of the few chain clothing stores. We all desperately needed Indian garb, the modesty rules here require women to cover up from the collarbone to the knee at least. This could be very oppressive during the days over 100 degrees. Our CIEE program allotted each of us 3000 Rupees (68ish dollars) to buy anything! The patterns were so unique and colors so rich!!! I tried on about 20 tops and loved it all! A sari is very traditional, and women wear them for doing any kind of living, but we were buying the more casual dress. It consists of a billowy pant, a tunic top (comes in different lengths for levels of modesty), and a scarf for extra collarbone coverage and head coverage in mosques. The women on our program ransacked the joint. Women swarmed; fine fabrics and clothes were everywhere. Madhri was helping us match scarf, pants and top. I ended up buying 4 tops of varying length and sleeve length, 1 pair of trouser pants, and a scarf all for exactly 3000Rs!! Im so proud of my thriftiness; some ladies had more expensive tastes and could only by a few articles. We all look so native!
Most of our group decided to venture off campus tonight to attend a local craft fair and treat Mimi to a birthday drink at a local upscale bar. After securing a cab we began our pilgrimage. 11 of us were at the mercy of our drivers quick maneuvers and jerky reactions (but no nausea for me, yippee!). We parked in a dirt parking lot across the street from the fair and then realized…we needed to cross the street. This is a sacred coming of age moment for every American. There is no median, so vehicles go both ways in one street. Cars and motorcycles don’t stop for animals, people, other cars, it all just kind of works out somehow. (madhri has told us stories of cow road kill from cars not heeding their brake instincts. Maybe Indians don’t have break instincts?) This might be the equivalent to crossing to malcs on crutches…not even. 20 of us spanned the side of the road. Me and 2 others tentatively inched out, then, quickly ran back when a cycle got too close. Test run over, time to go full throttle. We looked at each other, inhaled, then diaspora!! I was leading the charge and ran past the first car, then looked right to see the blinding lights of a motorcycle!!!I whipped out cat instincts and skittered across just dodging the speedy cycle. We heard the locals yelling for us to stop and waving their limbs, but we were already in the thick of it. Whew…seriously thrilling! We all made it across the first street successfully. Once regaining sanity, we looked around and observed a large group of Indians gathering at a central location to cross the second street together. Haha! We all rushed over and crossed with them.
Once leaving the craft fair we encountered our first live slumdog experience. We were laden with gifts and happy, crafty experiences and barely noticed an older woman follow us across the street. Once far from the hubbub, he began to stroke us. She pulled at our arms and clothes. Three small, small girls had followed her and began to do the same. I told the woman I couldn’t help her after she clutched my elbow. One girl began to kiss my feet and ask me for food and money. I pretended to ignore her at first, but then she began groping my arms and hands. Her tiny hands were so cold! Her dress was torn, despicable rags. And her hair looked solid dirt. Her eyes though were full of light and were engaging. Thank God, she is coherent, that means she can’t be too hungry right? (that is what I need to tell myself). I began interacting with her and she started to giggle. Music from HEAVEN! I swag her around and we playfully ran around the parked cars. The other girls saw and all of them jumped on me. Six cold hands reaching for some kind of comfort clutched my skin. I was walking toward our taxi with heavy cargo (although they were surprisingly light), but kind of spinning them as we went. The laughed and chattered. Im not sure if my interaction with them was completely appropriate. I obviously need to be careful, because if there were more beggars around I could have easily been overwhelmed. But rationale was this: I cant give them money. They are professional beggars (as sad as that is), and money will not help them escape this cycle. But that genuine interaction was hopefully a momentary escape from their reality. Their laughter and joy was real. If I could sit down and make each beggar feel important, or make them smile I would. I feel so much compassion for them, although it is quite unnerving to feel so groped. This is why I came to India (at least one of the reasons). I have so much to share with these people, and so much to gain back
On a completely different note, we ended our journey by sampling the local bar scene at Touch. That is the strange thing about India… we left the beggars in the dirt parking lot, and were on our way to a nice bar. The contrast and relationship between opposites is remarkable. We really didn’t debrief the beggar situation until after we enjoyed the bar. We are learning to compartmentalize (is that bad?). The bar was lit with dangerous looking red lighting and they sat us at a low table on floor pillows with rose petals as decor. We really just chatted and enjoyed the scene. Our group members ordered drinks, but not everyone drank because they came with ice in them (fear of diarrhea). Mimi said she had a wonderful birthday, so success!!!
I had so much trouble sleeping in last night due to the million thoughts running through my head, the jet lag and the promise of shopping in the morning, so I rose at 3:30 am and fixed some of my computer issues, journaled, and thought through what we experienced yesterday. This is seriously going to be my wall of therapy! After several hours of fussing around and a quick breakfast, we hopped in the bus and were on our way to FabIndia!! Ok, driving in the big bus makes me want to yack everywhere. I have staked out a seat in the front row, and every time we drive somewhere, I have to close my eyes to reach my happy place and tell myself its mind over matter. Our drive to FabIndia was the closest I have been to spewing everywhere! Upon our arrival, I had to sit motionless outside for a few minutes feeling especially green.
FABINDIA! Is amazing!!!Most Indian clothes, especially saris, are hand tailored for a super economical price, but FabIndia is one of the few chain clothing stores. We all desperately needed Indian garb, the modesty rules here require women to cover up from the collarbone to the knee at least. This could be very oppressive during the days over 100 degrees. Our CIEE program allotted each of us 3000 Rupees (68ish dollars) to buy anything! The patterns were so unique and colors so rich!!! I tried on about 20 tops and loved it all! A sari is very traditional, and women wear them for doing any kind of living, but we were buying the more casual dress. It consists of a billowy pant, a tunic top (comes in different lengths for levels of modesty), and a scarf for extra collarbone coverage and head coverage in mosques. The women on our program ransacked the joint. Women swarmed; fine fabrics and clothes were everywhere. Madhri was helping us match scarf, pants and top. I ended up buying 4 tops of varying length and sleeve length, 1 pair of trouser pants, and a scarf all for exactly 3000Rs!! Im so proud of my thriftiness; some ladies had more expensive tastes and could only by a few articles. We all look so native!
Most of our group decided to venture off campus tonight to attend a local craft fair and treat Mimi to a birthday drink at a local upscale bar. After securing a cab we began our pilgrimage. 11 of us were at the mercy of our drivers quick maneuvers and jerky reactions (but no nausea for me, yippee!). We parked in a dirt parking lot across the street from the fair and then realized…we needed to cross the street. This is a sacred coming of age moment for every American. There is no median, so vehicles go both ways in one street. Cars and motorcycles don’t stop for animals, people, other cars, it all just kind of works out somehow. (madhri has told us stories of cow road kill from cars not heeding their brake instincts. Maybe Indians don’t have break instincts?) This might be the equivalent to crossing to malcs on crutches…not even. 20 of us spanned the side of the road. Me and 2 others tentatively inched out, then, quickly ran back when a cycle got too close. Test run over, time to go full throttle. We looked at each other, inhaled, then diaspora!! I was leading the charge and ran past the first car, then looked right to see the blinding lights of a motorcycle!!!I whipped out cat instincts and skittered across just dodging the speedy cycle. We heard the locals yelling for us to stop and waving their limbs, but we were already in the thick of it. Whew…seriously thrilling! We all made it across the first street successfully. Once regaining sanity, we looked around and observed a large group of Indians gathering at a central location to cross the second street together. Haha! We all rushed over and crossed with them.
Once leaving the craft fair we encountered our first live slumdog experience. We were laden with gifts and happy, crafty experiences and barely noticed an older woman follow us across the street. Once far from the hubbub, he began to stroke us. She pulled at our arms and clothes. Three small, small girls had followed her and began to do the same. I told the woman I couldn’t help her after she clutched my elbow. One girl began to kiss my feet and ask me for food and money. I pretended to ignore her at first, but then she began groping my arms and hands. Her tiny hands were so cold! Her dress was torn, despicable rags. And her hair looked solid dirt. Her eyes though were full of light and were engaging. Thank God, she is coherent, that means she can’t be too hungry right? (that is what I need to tell myself). I began interacting with her and she started to giggle. Music from HEAVEN! I swag her around and we playfully ran around the parked cars. The other girls saw and all of them jumped on me. Six cold hands reaching for some kind of comfort clutched my skin. I was walking toward our taxi with heavy cargo (although they were surprisingly light), but kind of spinning them as we went. The laughed and chattered. Im not sure if my interaction with them was completely appropriate. I obviously need to be careful, because if there were more beggars around I could have easily been overwhelmed. But rationale was this: I cant give them money. They are professional beggars (as sad as that is), and money will not help them escape this cycle. But that genuine interaction was hopefully a momentary escape from their reality. Their laughter and joy was real. If I could sit down and make each beggar feel important, or make them smile I would. I feel so much compassion for them, although it is quite unnerving to feel so groped. This is why I came to India (at least one of the reasons). I have so much to share with these people, and so much to gain back
On a completely different note, we ended our journey by sampling the local bar scene at Touch. That is the strange thing about India… we left the beggars in the dirt parking lot, and were on our way to a nice bar. The contrast and relationship between opposites is remarkable. We really didn’t debrief the beggar situation until after we enjoyed the bar. We are learning to compartmentalize (is that bad?). The bar was lit with dangerous looking red lighting and they sat us at a low table on floor pillows with rose petals as decor. We really just chatted and enjoyed the scene. Our group members ordered drinks, but not everyone drank because they came with ice in them (fear of diarrhea). Mimi said she had a wonderful birthday, so success!!!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Day 1
Pow! 7 am frigid shower. I am such a cold water wimp, and when I turned on the water this morning I stood in the shower stall next to the stream of water willing it to warm up with my stare. After about 5 minutes of naked waiting, the shower won the stalemate and I began to stick one limb under the cold stream at a time. I was dancing just outside the water, trying to avoid full submersion. The mornings are quite chilly here, so by the time I finished my shower dance I was shivering, but the dry clothes and clean feeling are sooo rewarding! Last night I got in after night fall, and was honestly so weird, I don’t think I would have absorbed anything if I could have been visually stimulated. My impressions of the Tangore House (the international dorm at University of Hyderabad where I will be spending 4 of the 5 months I will be in India) changed drastically from the first hazy impression to now, a seasoned 24 hr student. It has 2 balconies, a common dining area, and a common room complete with Mr. Das, the dearest/most helpful computer aid in the WORLD! I will defend that claim.
The first 30ish pictures on my facebook from india are buildings on the university’s campus (including the Tangore House). They are wonderfully unfinished and well traveled! They are generally bright in color and feature a courtyard in the center…it makes me happy!
Ok, I am about to divulge my first true encounter with india. I wrote this down at 4:00 am Dec. 29, so please take that into account, but I wanted to give you guys a taste of what I really experienced yesterday (even though im discovering that no amount of words or pictures can describe or make India real).
Journal entry 12/29/2010
My first true look at India occurred yesterday roughly 6:30 pm. Orientation was supposed to end at 4:30, but Im learning that times and schedules are non-existent in Indian Culture. We were all exhausted and un prepared for what was about to take place. Madhri (our residential director) stopped our bus at a convenient store and let us buy necessities. As we stepped out of the bus , our birth into India began. To my left was a long horned bovine; to my right were a dozen parked motorcycles; directly in front was the neon glow of the convenient store beckoning us like moths to a flame. Anything to get out of the uncomfortable bustle of the streets. I remember thinking “just get away from these tummy unsettling scents.” As we ascended the steps in to the grocery temple, the flavor of India passed by our feet: a dog, a beggar with one leg and one nub, a lonely child. The store did not give relief from the scent barrage. We were allotted 10 minutes, and when we exited and produced 32 Americans on the curb it was quite comical. We looked so out of place! We stayed so tightly packed. The bovine ran past us and startled several of us. I touched its horn! We must have looked so foreign to them: white, western, terrified. Although there are a lot of people, they are always moving and never coagulate (like we were).
A guide to maintaining sanity during 20 hours of fight time (part 2)
12/27/2010
• The cabin lights come on as the sun rises, and in unison everyone wakes and rises to brush their teeth. Dental hygiene appears to be of paramount importance! I am trying to just take a pee, but am stuck behind a line of dentally conscious Indians, some barefoot. (30 min)
• Read (25 min)
• Watch India creep closer and closer. She is quite green and tropical with deep red dirt patches filling in the empty space. The clouds create a gentle pea soup veil over the land, while matzo ball mountains bud up between the interface of soup and sky. (1 hr)
After customs in Bangalore, 8hr lay over ensues:
• I try to charge my computer in a bathroom outlet and get scolded
• I pace around the tiny airport trying to stay awake. My brain is not functioning at normal speed and im quite giggly. I just realized I haven’t had a conversation with anyone (pear head man doesn’t count) since parting with my family on Christmas.
• I order coffee, and complete a crossword while sipping its blessed caffeine. 5 minutes after finishing my coffee, I fall asleep at the table! Haha not only am I a white westerner, the only person in this airport rockin the sweatpants, im also sleeping face down at a high café table.
• I wake and walk around to stimulate my body and run into an American mother. She is visiting her daughter who lives in India. You would have guessed we were best friends, because we immediately erupted into conversation. I didn’t know I had so much to say!!
• I arrive at my gate and find 5 American students cozily chatting with one another and discover they are part of my study abroad program! I have been flying with a few of them since Dallas, but we just happened to find each other in Bangalore! Crazy!
• We board the Kingfisher airline, finally!
2 hour flight to HYDERABAD!
• The cabin lights come on as the sun rises, and in unison everyone wakes and rises to brush their teeth. Dental hygiene appears to be of paramount importance! I am trying to just take a pee, but am stuck behind a line of dentally conscious Indians, some barefoot. (30 min)
• Read (25 min)
• Watch India creep closer and closer. She is quite green and tropical with deep red dirt patches filling in the empty space. The clouds create a gentle pea soup veil over the land, while matzo ball mountains bud up between the interface of soup and sky. (1 hr)
After customs in Bangalore, 8hr lay over ensues:
• I try to charge my computer in a bathroom outlet and get scolded
• I pace around the tiny airport trying to stay awake. My brain is not functioning at normal speed and im quite giggly. I just realized I haven’t had a conversation with anyone (pear head man doesn’t count) since parting with my family on Christmas.
• I order coffee, and complete a crossword while sipping its blessed caffeine. 5 minutes after finishing my coffee, I fall asleep at the table! Haha not only am I a white westerner, the only person in this airport rockin the sweatpants, im also sleeping face down at a high café table.
• I wake and walk around to stimulate my body and run into an American mother. She is visiting her daughter who lives in India. You would have guessed we were best friends, because we immediately erupted into conversation. I didn’t know I had so much to say!!
• I arrive at my gate and find 5 American students cozily chatting with one another and discover they are part of my study abroad program! I have been flying with a few of them since Dallas, but we just happened to find each other in Bangalore! Crazy!
• We board the Kingfisher airline, finally!
2 hour flight to HYDERABAD!
A guide to maintaining sanity during 20 hours of fight time (part 1)
12/25/2010
Dallas to London (9 hrs.):
· Start with the in-flight movie: a safe bet, but only lasts 2hrs if attention is sustained (mine wasn’t: 1 hr)
· Watch the flight attendants serve dinner (10 min)
· Happily devour a questionable cheese enchilada and fiesta rice: the last “real” tex-mex to be consumed for 5 months, was that real? (45 min)
· Sustain heavy glances from bysitters as you spread out over three vacant seats! No one showed up in your row. You think maybe it pays to travel alone as you inflate your pillow and span the entirety of 3 seats that miraculously fit your body to a tee! It’s a twin bed rocketing over the Atlantic (15 min)
· Sleep uninterrupted! (4 hrs)
· Wake to see a good Samaritan tucking you in with the staticy red blanket in your comfortable bed: who it was ill never know, my glassless eyes couldn’t focus on the figure (60 sec)
· Back to bed (30 min)
· First bathroom break: im always surprised by the magnitude of flushing power sustained in the air (10 min)
· Watch people sleep (30 min)
· Alternate flexion of separate butt cheeks to various musical tempos and rhythms (30 min)
· Crossword action (1 hr)
12/26/2010
· Watch the sunrise while listening to the American Airlines classical station “measure by measure” (40 min)
Miss the connection to Dubai. After long lines and the best croissant I have ever eaten, I rerouted my flight to Bangalore. 7 hr layover in London Heathrow.
London to Bangalore (9 hrs)
· Personal movie screen on the back of seats!! Oh ya!!!! Watch Despicable Me!(1.5 hrs)
· Receive an in-flight meal. It is yellow and brown and chunky. I recognize the chicken breast, and that’s about it. There is a package of seeds, and many tubes and canisters of spicy condiments. Try to decipher what the sludge is. (5 min)
· Observe the man next to me with a pear-shaped face doctor up his food and try to emulate. Tally ho! Eat the food, enjoy the food! But this also could be due to the fact that my stomach was caving in. (30 min)
· Enter a hyper-ADD state of: doze, gaze out the window, chit chat with my pear headed friend, watch part of a movie, repeat (5 hrs)
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
done with exams...off to INDIA
12/18/2010
In about a week I will be beginning my Great Indian Adventure, but as of now I’m back in the Lone Star State preparing the best I can for what awaits. Nothing says welcome home like a Whataburger with cheese and a younger brother solely clothed in golden boxers ambushing you via vuvuzela. While decorating our Christmas tree, I took a step back to observe our full-on family dance party to Vanessa Williams Holiday CD and felt so content. The love of life and dancing expressed could not be contained in one room…seriously I stepped outside and could hear our merry making through the windows! As most of you know, I depart the States on Christmas day, and in the meantime, I plan on enjoying our distinctly Mackintosh Christmas and my last few warm/pressurized showers in preparation for my semester abroad. Welcome to my blog, and I hope you enjoy hearing about my adventures in India!
i wrote this on dec 18, but had some serious blog issues in dallas and tech issues in india. but i figured a little late than never.
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