Śubh krisamas!!!

I don’t think I have taken a moment spell it out yet, but: I LOVE INDIA! Every turn is an adventure, each experience is different than expected. I never know what to expect, but that is the beauty of it. Indians themselves aren’t certain if a professor will show up to class today, but that fluidity weaves the cultural fabric of India!

12/31/2010
It is new years eve, and up until this point CIEE has been running us ragged. I guess they are keeping us from succumbing to our jetlag type tendencies, which I can still feel lingering in my system. But this afternoon, after finishing our academic consultations, we were free to do whatever we pleased! Freedom! First order of business, we walked to the ATM on campus. The campus sprawls in all directions, and besides a scattering of dorms and academic buildings, it is very rural. We took a dirt road most of the way to shop com (shopping complex), and viewed flat rock formations (which I will be sure to explore later in the semester), expanses of grasslands, a watertower not far in the distance (you know what that means), and a post office on the way. Shop com is a lively dusty place! Dogs skitter all over campus, but shop com seems to be their hang out too. The dogs all look so mangy and unfortunately, it is surprising to see an alert playful pup. Shop com houses an ATM, cobbler, general store/grocery, beauty salon, tailor, and a small food vendor. I suppose it can be compared to an outdoor Indian HUB. It was here, in the shop com I was first acquainted with the homosocial behavior of India. While observing Indians at the shop com, I noted and expected men and women not associating with each other. Even though we had been told, I was still surprised to see pods of men holding hands. It is a platonic friendship grip, but it still made me chuckle. Little differences like that just send me into a giggly mess.

The decision regarding the potential formation of the Telegana state was to be made today, but it will not be revealed to the public until late January (after the major festivals), so our resident director urged us to be home by 11pm to avoid any sporadic rioting. In fact, the entire city has been under a midnight curfew, but they extended it to 1am for new years eve. About 9 of us decided to venture out of the campus walls to the All Crafts Mela. And so our journey began in an autorickshaw. The auto drivers assessed the white skin on our faces and automatically offered us triple the usual price. We were able to haggle our way down to 1.5 the regular auto price (I consider this a victory)! I might need a whole separate post to describe an autorickshaw ride. I will reserve that for later, but know that we arrived unscathed.

The craft mela is overstimulation to the max. I feel like the word overstimulation describes any situation in India thus far (no wonder we are always exhausted). If you show the slightest bit of interest, the vendors pounce and exhaust your resistance. Even eye contact puts them in a frenzy! I began letting my head swivel in all directions and flitted from stall to stall, but soon kept my eyes under control because I felt badly showing interest in a product I knew I wouldn’t buy. After handling many fabrics, caressing several shoes and contemplating countless jewelry pieces, I finally saw something that was worth pursuing. A heavy black stone elephant with bronze metal shards laid in its back!!! Ooh beautiful elephant please be mine! I casually approached the stall. I acted like I was a mature, seasoned haggler.
“How much?”
“eiight hundraaad fity rupee, madam.”
“ohh, too much.” (I put on a puzzled face) “500?” (you are supposed to at least half the price)
“No.” and he shoes me away with his hand. FAILURE! I have never been good at haggling, but it looks like my tequnique hasn’t improved. Maybe I need to be more expressive with my face and body language? Maybe try to be more assertive, or not look like im a preadolescent 13 year old? If you guys have any tips please feel free to educate me in the haggling arts.

I began to feel really faint as I explored the rest of the craft fair, and was having trouble focusing my eyes. We have been told explicitly not to eat any sort of street food for at least 15 days, but I was in dire need. I swerved to the food stands and searched for the least spicy, well cooked food I could find. Popcorn. I gobbled it up and of course it was cloaked in a foreign spice, but it was delicious. Only time will tell if I dodged the diarrhea bullet. I successfully found my way to the rest of the group and we headed off to dinner.

The ride to dinner was epic. We were trying desperately to get to a restaurant recommended to us in Bnajari Hills, Our Place. Before arriving in india it was thought that English could be used almost universally to communicate. After merely a week it is now common knowledge that rickshaw drivers are the exception. But stepping into the auto we had no idea. He parroted the directions back to us, and we assumed he knew what they meant. We of course had no idea where we were supposed to be going and squeezed between cars and tailgated motorcycles while we flew through the city. 30 minutes later, he started assertively addressing us in Hindi. It is all gargles and grunts to me. We repeat the directions and he nods “ok,ok”. He has no idea where the restaurant is, we have no idea where we are, it is a mess! We keep pulling over to ask where Our Place is. Every Indian knows where Our Place is located except our driver, hahaha. We can tell he is frustrated by his more aggressive approach to driving. I was feeling particularly faint the whole ride, and was perched atop every ones’ laps. My friends were holding onto me, and I napped for part of the ride. We finally ducked into a side ally and the face of Our Place is gleaming in front of us!! Our auto driver was laughing hysterically (out of frustration or punchiness?) and we tipped him well. We expected this restaurant to be a small hole in the wall, but in the entrance was a pool of water with floating candles and flowers. The inside was a glorious Indian jungle!!!! In the center of it all was a sitar player goin crazzay. The hostess led us to the upstairs balcony where we could view the green below, but feel intimate. What a meal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t use too many exclamation points while describing this meal! Naan flowing like wine, rice dishes galore, an epecially buttery dhal, and authentic Chinese food! There was no shame, just stuffing our faces. Fat and content we tried to hail a cab for the way home, but had no luck. We settled on one auto. Once again crammed to the brim with human limbs, we set off. I once again dozed most of the way home, but it took a solid hour to reach our hostel.

I spent the first moments of the new year in the shower with the electricity shut off. But I quickly dressed and ran to the balcony because I could hear the fireworks and eruption from the city. I could not see anything, but could hear it all, which was a dreamy effect! A friend and I star gazed on the balcony sleepily chatting to ring in the new year until the power was rebooted. What a magical way to change over the decade!