Dear India,
We have been seeing one another now for almost 2 wonderful months! There are, however, some serious issues I'd like to address. I think you are bi polar. What's worse, you take me along for the ride. I soar with such great heights of joy and crash land into bitter sorrow, all trying to keep up with you. Perhaps you should get some help. And no, we are not breaking up.
Love Always,
Claire
Since my birthday, I could write a book's worth of blog stuff. I am staying at Vadu almost constantly. The reason is that I have been teaching morning classes and evening classes. If I were to go to the office, I wouldn't be back in time for my 6 o'clock class. So I stay and teach. Teaching has been a challenging affair. The students are there voluntarily, and in addition to their regular schooling. That's a long time to hold still and learn!! My efforts have been to make it as fun as possible. I try to make a lot of games. When classes go well and students leave skipping and singing new songs or I hear them shout new vocabulary at one another, I am so happy. I float around feeling wonderful and encouraged to make the next class even better. When the classes go poorly, however, I crawl out from the class room sighing and trying to figure out how I ended up a teacher at all. It can be REALLY difficult to teach something without being able to explain it. For example: I was unable to teach "go fish" as a way to practice vocabulary. I made cards with pictures and then cards with the words. But there are too many steps to explain without knowing Marathi. It flopped. Also, after confusing my students with a test, I found out from someone that India does not use multiple choice. No wonder they didn't get it. Crazy American girl- what do you mean "A, B or C?"
Something unsettling about India is that it's making my hair fall out. Yep. You read it right. I guess it's not an unusual problem cuz of the water, but I am upset about it. Too much hair is in my hand when I finish combing my hair. I may laugh about this someday with a full ponytail, but I am ready to weep over it now. It's not showing yet, but this is awful. I am asking around to see what to do and I'm only washing my hair with filtered water from now on. Someone want to do some research for me? PLEASE? It wasn't falling out at home!!!! Help me! HELP!
I have a guitar. This has been a wonderful thing. It belongs to Maher, and had been sitting unused and dusty. The tabla teacher, Vijay, was kind enough to take it to his music shop and get new strings for it. It isn't the nicest guitar by far, and won't hold it's tuning no matter how I cuss at it, but it's still fantastic. Noone seems to care what sour notes come out of it. I am a rock star here- playing the absolute worst music of my life to the most enthusiastic crowd ever! I have started to teach occasional guitar lessons to a few of the older boys and girls. It doesn't seem to matter that I'm not very good at it. I use it in my English classes sometimes too, as an add in. I taught jingle bells- the song I have learned to love. I have sang it a million times since the holidays. Its so cute to hear them sing about snow and sleighs in their Indian accent. I was going to play for the Christmas program, but.......
On the 22nd, I woke up with a headache and a slight tummy ache. I taught a class even though it felt like a cement mixer had replaced my digestive system. It wasn't that bad then, so I thought I would rest after class. I ate a small breakfast and went to my room to rest a bit. Things went down hill from there. My head ache got worse and my stomach did too. At this point i knew I was sick, but I had no idea how much. One of the staff came to check on me by 3:30 to ask if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I didn't think it was anything other than a flu. In one hour, I was ready to go to the doctor- it progressed into intensive body ache, vomiting, diarrhea, head ache, and an impending sense of doom. The hour plus ride to the hospital could be described as hell. I fought against India's MANY odors and traffic to not vomit and/or the unmentionable. I prayed to God not to have to pull over the car and vomit with my pants down on the side of the road during rush hour. God is great. I made it!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have an infection in my stomach, most likely due to bad water/food/mysteriousness. I have been careful with water, so who knows? I was in the hospital for 5 or so days! They felt my stomach would riot against the medications I needed, so I was on an IV drip most of that time. It turns out IV's are totally overrated. They aren't great at all- they hurt a lot. My hospital was very nice all except for the fact that my IV did not have wheels, so every time I had to go to the bathroom, I had to be disconnected and reconnected after. This made my veins and wrists huuuuuurt. They switched hands 2 times. I still have sore wrists. The first night in the hospital was horrible and I'll spare you the ooey gooey details. But I was never alone. Sister Lucy did not sleep at all the night, just to make sure I was okay. And Gause (one of the boys who will come to America) slept on the floor all night too. I was thankful and quite horrified that they heard me barf all night.
There were some highlights to my hospital in India Christmas. After the first night, Lucy left and sent a woman named Mangul to look after me. I had met Mangul before at Vatsyladam (one of Maher's homes) where she takes care of elderly patients 7 days a week with a smile on her face. She speaks some English, and however limited, the warmth of her heart is right on her sleeve. She's a stunningly beautiful 27 year old, and I thought of her as my Christmas Angel. She'd bring me anything I needed. She's massage my head when i had a head ache. She even combed my hair ( I stopped fighting her after awhile- "I can do it- no- I can do it- it's okay). The hospital, you see, was a lot of letting it go, just like the rest of my trip here has been. I didn't like that she was missing all the celebrations just for me. I didn't like feeling helpless. Christmas eve I lay asleep gently weeping in frustration over the whole thing. But as I layed there, I thought of people like Mangul, so willing to give without any words of praise. I thought of how great I was in comparison to the people only just outside my hospital. I thought of all the unspoken heroes, the angels, that I were in Maher alone. I felt so grateful and moved. I cried some more for joy, wondering if I'll ever be able to give any of this back.
Another big highlight to the hospital was Indian TV!!!!! How amusing! I got a full education on Hindi films, which are pretty awful by any Americans' standards, I think. Most themes are love, and every damn one is a musical. I liked watching them all the same.I got to watch a few American movies, including (ironically) Slumdog Millionare, Chicago (so much skin!!), and the Accidental Bride. I also really enjoyed the commercials. Highlights: Dominos pizza had a pizza with a strange cream sauce but no tomato sauce, a diaper called "MAMMY NOKO PANTS" and a pad commercial that at the end says "Have a happy period!" I did also read a few books, and I had a lot of visitors. Oh!!!! there was a news story that showed footage of a tiger that tackled a guy!!!! Holy crap!!!! Not a local story, in case you were wondering.
I'm out of the hospital and recovering slowly. I am scared of eating anything that isn't bland. I feel okay except that my strength hasn't returned yet. Glad that tiger isn't around here. I am taking extra care of myself so that I will be well enough to go on a trip to Karola in a few days for a wedding and sight seeing. Karola is supposed to be very beautiful and I just love traveling in India.
I'm sure there's more but I am out of time. Love everyone and Happy new year!!!!!! The essence of violets thing in the title was from a band I was in "The Timid Mergers Apathetic Warriors and the Essence of Violets". I just really like "the essence of violets" and it's my blog.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
One Month Down, Two to Go
My blog has been stalled because my schedule has completely changed. I no longer go to the Pune Office everyday. I stay at Vadu and teach. Being an adaptable person is a must for being here in India, and teaching is no different. I came to Maher ready to tutor 4 students in English. Now I am adapting to teaching 50-60 students! I would be lying if I didn't say this terrified me, but I wasn't about to say I wouldn't try. As I like to say, "Trying is the first step towards failure." Or Sucess. The first challenge was trying to find a way to figgure out what level each class was at. I'm teaching a mix of ages, from 11-19. I am glad I had that class on tutoring or I wouldn't have a clue of what to do. Most of the students are at a very low level of understanding English, and even lower at speaking it. It's a challenge to teach without being fluent in Marathi myself. The first class was so perfect it gave me the courage for the next one. Picture this: it's 8:30am. My class room has windows that are missing so there's a warm breeze drifting through the room. Sunlight is streaming in, and there's about ten sparrows that are noisily chatting overhead (they live in the classroom and drop straw from their nests on the floor everyday). I have my books and lesson plan on my lap, chalk ready and "Good Morning" written across the blackboard, ready to go. My seven students filter in, late. They are all 12 to 13 yr old boys, but thye are all smiin gand ready to learn. They listen and laugh. They learn!!!! As they left, I was on cloud nine. maybe I CAN teach!!!!
Not all my classes have gone so smoothly. The evening classes had too mcuh energy. they had been in school all day and now they didn't want to sit still. A few took advantage of the fact that I am a marshmellow. I had new rules I wanted to make, but how could I explain them? And how do you bitch a student out with such a language barrier? Students came late. Students came that weren't even on the list. Studensts came form other classes. It was time to ask for help. We had a meeting with Hira and she really let them have it. We got the schedule stait and new rules were layed down. We set up another class too because so many other students wanted to learn English. So now I have 12 classes a week. (God help me.) I also still need to figgure out the Thursday night class because Thurday's there's no power so it will be too dark to teach. I had to cancel last Thursday. This Thursday I need to plan a class with flashlights and no black board.
A week or so ago, we had a group come by to tour Maher. I walked in the office and was surprised to see a white guy there. Then I turned around and saw that there was a whole group, very mixed. Their group is called Action for life. They go around the world meeting people who make big changes and learn from them. (There's probably a lot more to them than that, but I am still learning about them). One was from Australia, one someplace in Europe I have never heard of (how embarassing), one from Kenya, one from Korea (I think), and one from China. I like to call them the superfriends. I went with them on their tour to Vatsalydam and we all chatted the whole way. I thought they were an amazing group of people and I was excited they intived me to visit them where they are staying in Punchguna (spelled wrong), about two hours away. I think I shall. I think I shall.
My birthday was amazing. I woke up early to celebrate with the children since I was going to be gone when they returned from school. Upon opening my door, 4 children were already sitting outside my door way. "Happy Birthday Didi!!!!!" They wanted to be the first ones to wish it to me. Then they all shook my hand. My birthday was off to a good start. The main room were we gathered was decorated in balloons and had a beautiful sand art creation on the floor with a prayer-lamp-thingy (that's not what they call it.) I sat on a cousion in front of it and we all had prayer. I lit the prayer-lamp-thingy with Sister Lucy, Hira, AND the birthday boy. Yes, it was not just my birthday: a little boy turned one, so i got to share! They said a prayer in marathi and then English. it included thanks for ME and how grateful they were, and how they wished me happiness, and on and on. I sat with my eyes closed very moved. I don't know that I deserved such a speech since I feel everything I give here is given back to me ten fold. I had to try REALLY hard not to cry in front of those 200 and some children and women. REALLY HARD. They blessed me with kum kum (that red and orange stuff that they put on your forhead). They put a flower garland on me. Then they brought a small cake that me and the birthday boy cut and ate like they do in weddings: I fed him and he fed me. Then sister Lucy. We passed out sweets the women and children and my day moved on quickly.
I was to prepare for my second Hindu Wedding, this one of a higher caste. I wore the apologetic clothing : the Sari. There was alot of running around to fit me into a blouse that made my boobs pointy, just like my Halloween coustume. Noone gets poked though, because your boobs and almost every other part of you gets securely wrapped up. I figgured i wouldn't need help dressing myself for quite some time, but here I was at 29, being dressed my two women. A sari is a complicated thing, much like wearing orgami. Fold here, here, and here. Pin this, this and this. I had to ask how to use the tiolet in it. The women also did my hair and put "matching" jewelry on me. My taste is a bit different, but they all said I looked "soondar" beautiful. We then rushed off with gifts in tote to the wedding.
This wedding was MUCH bigger than the last, about a thousand people. They gave gifts to US. The men and women sat seperately. I thought that was very strange. It was such a striking division: one side was every color you can think of with the women, the other was all white with the men (except for the orange hats that some wore as a sign of respect). This wedding was more organized. I was called on stage twice, once to receive a coconut (an official greeting), once for a photo. It was a beautiful wedding. We stopped and had a snack dinner at a restraunt. It was my first time eating out in a dinning situation. Lucy got me a Lassi which is better than any cake. I was very happy. I doubt I will be forgetting this birthday anytime soon.
I should also mention that a new volunteer showed up a few days ago, from London. Her name is Bernie and she will be here for the rest of the time I am here. She has a nice accent and offers me tea. It's nice to have another English speaking person around.
I am having problems taking enogh photographs. Everthing is intersting and picture worthy, and I'd love to paint alot of the things I see, but... Taking pictures of everyday things is hard. Picture this: you are on your way to work, or you are shopping, when some crazy foreigner is pointing a camera at you! How rude!! Plus, I'm always doing stuff and don't want to be toting a camera. So, my pictures are lacking and I feel I may regret it.
I use alot of restraint here. I want to frolic though the banana trees that are just down the road. Frolic- skipping, chasing insects, humming, the works. But I don't know who owns the field of how they would feel about the crazy woman running through it. I want to run down the road in the Village for exercise, but running isn't propper for women. I want to burst out laughing at many of the things I see, but I don't often. And I really want to cuss at traffic or things, but I do so only in my head. Again I'd like to state that my language skills aren't good enough to explain that I am (somewhat) sane.
Till next time, and who knows when that will be...
Not all my classes have gone so smoothly. The evening classes had too mcuh energy. they had been in school all day and now they didn't want to sit still. A few took advantage of the fact that I am a marshmellow. I had new rules I wanted to make, but how could I explain them? And how do you bitch a student out with such a language barrier? Students came late. Students came that weren't even on the list. Studensts came form other classes. It was time to ask for help. We had a meeting with Hira and she really let them have it. We got the schedule stait and new rules were layed down. We set up another class too because so many other students wanted to learn English. So now I have 12 classes a week. (God help me.) I also still need to figgure out the Thursday night class because Thurday's there's no power so it will be too dark to teach. I had to cancel last Thursday. This Thursday I need to plan a class with flashlights and no black board.
A week or so ago, we had a group come by to tour Maher. I walked in the office and was surprised to see a white guy there. Then I turned around and saw that there was a whole group, very mixed. Their group is called Action for life. They go around the world meeting people who make big changes and learn from them. (There's probably a lot more to them than that, but I am still learning about them). One was from Australia, one someplace in Europe I have never heard of (how embarassing), one from Kenya, one from Korea (I think), and one from China. I like to call them the superfriends. I went with them on their tour to Vatsalydam and we all chatted the whole way. I thought they were an amazing group of people and I was excited they intived me to visit them where they are staying in Punchguna (spelled wrong), about two hours away. I think I shall. I think I shall.
My birthday was amazing. I woke up early to celebrate with the children since I was going to be gone when they returned from school. Upon opening my door, 4 children were already sitting outside my door way. "Happy Birthday Didi!!!!!" They wanted to be the first ones to wish it to me. Then they all shook my hand. My birthday was off to a good start. The main room were we gathered was decorated in balloons and had a beautiful sand art creation on the floor with a prayer-lamp-thingy (that's not what they call it.) I sat on a cousion in front of it and we all had prayer. I lit the prayer-lamp-thingy with Sister Lucy, Hira, AND the birthday boy. Yes, it was not just my birthday: a little boy turned one, so i got to share! They said a prayer in marathi and then English. it included thanks for ME and how grateful they were, and how they wished me happiness, and on and on. I sat with my eyes closed very moved. I don't know that I deserved such a speech since I feel everything I give here is given back to me ten fold. I had to try REALLY hard not to cry in front of those 200 and some children and women. REALLY HARD. They blessed me with kum kum (that red and orange stuff that they put on your forhead). They put a flower garland on me. Then they brought a small cake that me and the birthday boy cut and ate like they do in weddings: I fed him and he fed me. Then sister Lucy. We passed out sweets the women and children and my day moved on quickly.
I was to prepare for my second Hindu Wedding, this one of a higher caste. I wore the apologetic clothing : the Sari. There was alot of running around to fit me into a blouse that made my boobs pointy, just like my Halloween coustume. Noone gets poked though, because your boobs and almost every other part of you gets securely wrapped up. I figgured i wouldn't need help dressing myself for quite some time, but here I was at 29, being dressed my two women. A sari is a complicated thing, much like wearing orgami. Fold here, here, and here. Pin this, this and this. I had to ask how to use the tiolet in it. The women also did my hair and put "matching" jewelry on me. My taste is a bit different, but they all said I looked "soondar" beautiful. We then rushed off with gifts in tote to the wedding.
This wedding was MUCH bigger than the last, about a thousand people. They gave gifts to US. The men and women sat seperately. I thought that was very strange. It was such a striking division: one side was every color you can think of with the women, the other was all white with the men (except for the orange hats that some wore as a sign of respect). This wedding was more organized. I was called on stage twice, once to receive a coconut (an official greeting), once for a photo. It was a beautiful wedding. We stopped and had a snack dinner at a restraunt. It was my first time eating out in a dinning situation. Lucy got me a Lassi which is better than any cake. I was very happy. I doubt I will be forgetting this birthday anytime soon.
I should also mention that a new volunteer showed up a few days ago, from London. Her name is Bernie and she will be here for the rest of the time I am here. She has a nice accent and offers me tea. It's nice to have another English speaking person around.
I am having problems taking enogh photographs. Everthing is intersting and picture worthy, and I'd love to paint alot of the things I see, but... Taking pictures of everyday things is hard. Picture this: you are on your way to work, or you are shopping, when some crazy foreigner is pointing a camera at you! How rude!! Plus, I'm always doing stuff and don't want to be toting a camera. So, my pictures are lacking and I feel I may regret it.
I use alot of restraint here. I want to frolic though the banana trees that are just down the road. Frolic- skipping, chasing insects, humming, the works. But I don't know who owns the field of how they would feel about the crazy woman running through it. I want to run down the road in the Village for exercise, but running isn't propper for women. I want to burst out laughing at many of the things I see, but I don't often. And I really want to cuss at traffic or things, but I do so only in my head. Again I'd like to state that my language skills aren't good enough to explain that I am (somewhat) sane.
Till next time, and who knows when that will be...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
I can't believe it's December. It doesn't feel like December at all, what with the hot weather and lack of Christmas advertising. I am looking forward to my 29th birthday here with Maher! I think I will be spending the day after in Pune with my new friend Rohan for an Indian burger, and then the weekend with Z Germans at their flat. There has been talk of eating some Lassi (Lassies?). Bring it on!!! Christmas music might be lacking this year unless I get a guitar (an actual possibility) and play it myself. I wonder how the children will like my American songs. I don't think Dylan is popular here.
I am feeling so thankful to be a part of Maher, however small. It is amazing what they accomplish here! I find it hard to connect the horrible stories with all these wonderful people. There's always a lot going on. The children are back in school, so they are a lot busier than they were at holidays. Besides school, they teach the children Indian dance (really fun to watch!) and Karate. I have never been a huge fan of Karate, but it might be fun to do with the children. I am quite fond of them.
I am feeling so thankful to be a part of Maher, however small. It is amazing what they accomplish here! I find it hard to connect the horrible stories with all these wonderful people. There's always a lot going on. The children are back in school, so they are a lot busier than they were at holidays. Besides school, they teach the children Indian dance (really fun to watch!) and Karate. I have never been a huge fan of Karate, but it might be fun to do with the children. I am quite fond of them.
Monday, November 29, 2010
The dreaded left hand butt wipe is not the horror its made out to be, in case you are wondering. It's not that you use your hand for the TP as much as you use your hand to deliver water to the approprite spot. Then you wash your hands with soap and water. I'm wondering if after its all said and done, it's better than the western public bathroom if you forgot to wash your hands. The bummer (haha) of the Indian style toilet is the wetness. The wetness of the whole bathroom: the floor, the seat (if there is one) and your rear end when you are finished. Who wants a wet rear end?!!! Who?!!! God bless America, land of the free, land of the tiolet paper. I can live without it, butt....
The Indians shake (or bobble) their heads, as some of you may know. This can mean: Sure! Yes! I inderstand! But it does not mean "no." This has caused a few moments of confusion for me and others. I might be offered tea and say "nahi" (no). But I also shake my head since I am used to doing so. So, they receive a mixed message and hand me tea. I have recently learned a hand signal that means no, and its working out much better.
The stories and things I see here are heart breaking. I'm always surprised when I feel very little inside as I see unbelieveable poverty or hear a horrible story. It's later at night that I cry. Yes, I'll admit, I cry. I cry because its so awful. Because I have been so blessed. Because I'm so thankful for such an amazing place like Maher, and that I'm getting to be a part of it. Because of the joy and generousity that are here and it just pours out of me. India is very _____. Very horrible. Very wonderful. Very beautiful. Very Ugly. So I end up feeling alot of things, but there isn't alot of medium here. India is very.
My language skills are improving at a snail's pace. Speaking of snails... there are Indian slugs!!!! They have a ridge down their backs. Other creature sightings include a mongoose darting across the road (how exciting!!!), and a gecko that likes to craw on my window every night to give me a show eating bugs ( I see him, tummy side.) Most creature sightings leave me clapping like child. I pretend not to hear people mutter "bogel" under their breath: it means crazy.
My name is very hard for Indians to say. I feel this is fair. I have a really hard time with many of the names here. The children want me to remember their names soooo badly. But there are so many!!!! And the names are new sounding to me :Abishek, Pranali, Rupesh, Akash, Yogita, Shniel.... if I learn 2 a day, I'm lucky.
I have been working in the office alot. I have been typing addresses and other simple things. I still haven't been tutoring but perhaps I will get that figgured out after Sister Lucy returns from Goa. I have no problem being flexible. Anyway I can help is just fine. I still feel like a guest but they are letting me do more of my own dishes and such. There are 4 other volunteers in the office: Z Germans. They are all (3 girls and 1 boy) around 20 yrs old and live in Pune at their own flat since they will be here a year. It's nice to have someone to talk to about being a foreigner, and they are quite fun. I hope they will take me to the cinema soon, I think that would be a nice change of pace.
The main house in Vadu is a village, just like you might picture for a village. To get to it you turn off a road in Pune and follow a very busy, very choppy road for 15 minutes or so. At home, it's called off roading, here, it's just the road. You pass dog after dog, each looking worse than the next. (Is that one dead?!!! No- he's just sleeping by the road. Is THAT one dead?!!! Oh, yes, he is. Dogs are not the pets that they are in the U.S. They remind me more of how we view crows, picking through our garbage and always around. Someone told me they eat snakes so its good to have around. It's hard for me to see, but in a place where there is so much poverty, it's not the saddest thing you see in a day. I try to not think of it.) You pass cows pulling big carts of sugar cane. Their horns are painted blue or red. I like the white ones best.There's a stream and women are washing clothing in it. Then, there's Maher's welcoming gates.
My blog may be choppy in it's delivery. I don't get internet often, and it can be very short. I often don't have time to spell check or even read through what I've written. You will all have to deal with it. I could write for a very long time on India: it's a big subject! Enjoy your cold and your toilet paper, till next time.
The Indians shake (or bobble) their heads, as some of you may know. This can mean: Sure! Yes! I inderstand! But it does not mean "no." This has caused a few moments of confusion for me and others. I might be offered tea and say "nahi" (no). But I also shake my head since I am used to doing so. So, they receive a mixed message and hand me tea. I have recently learned a hand signal that means no, and its working out much better.
The stories and things I see here are heart breaking. I'm always surprised when I feel very little inside as I see unbelieveable poverty or hear a horrible story. It's later at night that I cry. Yes, I'll admit, I cry. I cry because its so awful. Because I have been so blessed. Because I'm so thankful for such an amazing place like Maher, and that I'm getting to be a part of it. Because of the joy and generousity that are here and it just pours out of me. India is very _____. Very horrible. Very wonderful. Very beautiful. Very Ugly. So I end up feeling alot of things, but there isn't alot of medium here. India is very.
My language skills are improving at a snail's pace. Speaking of snails... there are Indian slugs!!!! They have a ridge down their backs. Other creature sightings include a mongoose darting across the road (how exciting!!!), and a gecko that likes to craw on my window every night to give me a show eating bugs ( I see him, tummy side.) Most creature sightings leave me clapping like child. I pretend not to hear people mutter "bogel" under their breath: it means crazy.
My name is very hard for Indians to say. I feel this is fair. I have a really hard time with many of the names here. The children want me to remember their names soooo badly. But there are so many!!!! And the names are new sounding to me :Abishek, Pranali, Rupesh, Akash, Yogita, Shniel.... if I learn 2 a day, I'm lucky.
I have been working in the office alot. I have been typing addresses and other simple things. I still haven't been tutoring but perhaps I will get that figgured out after Sister Lucy returns from Goa. I have no problem being flexible. Anyway I can help is just fine. I still feel like a guest but they are letting me do more of my own dishes and such. There are 4 other volunteers in the office: Z Germans. They are all (3 girls and 1 boy) around 20 yrs old and live in Pune at their own flat since they will be here a year. It's nice to have someone to talk to about being a foreigner, and they are quite fun. I hope they will take me to the cinema soon, I think that would be a nice change of pace.
The main house in Vadu is a village, just like you might picture for a village. To get to it you turn off a road in Pune and follow a very busy, very choppy road for 15 minutes or so. At home, it's called off roading, here, it's just the road. You pass dog after dog, each looking worse than the next. (Is that one dead?!!! No- he's just sleeping by the road. Is THAT one dead?!!! Oh, yes, he is. Dogs are not the pets that they are in the U.S. They remind me more of how we view crows, picking through our garbage and always around. Someone told me they eat snakes so its good to have around. It's hard for me to see, but in a place where there is so much poverty, it's not the saddest thing you see in a day. I try to not think of it.) You pass cows pulling big carts of sugar cane. Their horns are painted blue or red. I like the white ones best.There's a stream and women are washing clothing in it. Then, there's Maher's welcoming gates.
My blog may be choppy in it's delivery. I don't get internet often, and it can be very short. I often don't have time to spell check or even read through what I've written. You will all have to deal with it. I could write for a very long time on India: it's a big subject! Enjoy your cold and your toilet paper, till next time.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Continued
Will I ever get tired of Indian food? Probably not. Every meal becomes my favorite. Nothing has been too spicy yet and they are always surprised to see the American girl asking for the spicy dishes. There's one that is whole green chillies in a chickpea flour batter (like pakoras) that knocks my socks off, but i'm always back for more. And it's always a good day if I can get a Lassi- yohurt like heaven. Sorry American food- I don't miss you a bit!
I am dressin gin the traditional style which is going alot better as of lately. My first week and a half, I borrowed some Punjabi suits. it just so happened that the only ones my size were Pink and white, tan and white, or salmon and white. Anyone who knows me knows I don't parade around in light pink! I sucked it up and wore them. They made me look like even more of a white girl than I am. People stared more than they do now in my nice dark colors. My friend Seema says I "look like a respectable indian lady."
I am dressin gin the traditional style which is going alot better as of lately. My first week and a half, I borrowed some Punjabi suits. it just so happened that the only ones my size were Pink and white, tan and white, or salmon and white. Anyone who knows me knows I don't parade around in light pink! I sucked it up and wore them. They made me look like even more of a white girl than I am. People stared more than they do now in my nice dark colors. My friend Seema says I "look like a respectable indian lady."
Thursday, November 25, 2010
For the first week in India, I'd still dream at night that I was in America. All my crazy dream plots had familar settings. then I'd wake up and my mind zoomed almost 10,000 miles to my current location. It was a bizzare feeling, I assure you. My mind has now cuaght up with my body and all my dreams are in India.
Things are feeling less crazy than they did when I first arrived. I no longer grip the oh-shit-handle in the car/taxi as much as we swerve though traffic. I have been out and about more often. I'm more used to the slower pace of things (somethings are slower, some faster). I'm getting better at being uncomfortable. That may sound odd, but I'm WAY out of my element here, and that's okay. The phrase I use the most in my head as I adjust is "get over it." Whenever I hear myself whine in my thoughts, I use this phrase. "These people are staring at me." The misquitos won't stop biting me." Thoughts like that, It works pretty well.
My schedule isn't set yet. I get up at 7 am, almost exactly, everyday. this is a miracle because I dropped my Shiva alarm clock and all the arms fell off except for one. So, I get up from my body clock and that's all. i go to breakfast and then my day varies. There have been many days that I have gone to see the many different projaects that Maher has. yesterday was one of those days. I went and saw the house that they have for mentally ill women that Maher pulls from off the sides of the road. It also houses elderly and children. I was a bit nervous at first to go there because I have heard it can be difficult to be around the women since some are so mentally ill. I also have had very little experience with mentallly ill people. (I had to ask myself why-why is it so scary, really? Here's where that phrase come to mind- get over it.) i was actually quite impressed. The gardens around the facility where they grow veggies are alot bigger than I expected and they really add to the beauty of the place. The women I met there were a mix: some really friendly and easy to be around, some more ill and harder to be around. I even saw two familar faces. One woman had come to stay at the house where i live in Vadu for the holidays. The other woman was the one that Sister Meena had picked up from the trainstation in Mumbai. She rode the train back with us.
About a week ago a woman approached me and chatted on and on in Hindu (which i don't speak at all, not even to say I don't speak Hindu). I figgured out what was going on once she handed me a glittery gnesh wedding invatation. A Hindu wedding! Yes! Two members of the staff were going, so I went with them to Mumbai. We took the trainwhich was quite an experience all to itself. The Pune trainstation smells like stale and fresh human feces. it's worse than I imagined. There's people sleeping on the ground, trash everywhere (trash is everywhere in general, but worse in some areas) and loud noises. The train itseld wasn't bad. The windows were open so the hot air was at least moving. i got to see alot of stretched landscapes and green rice paddies. i like how much is sold on trains. Men walk up and down the train peddling their wares, yelling over and over the name of their product. "Idlis! Idlililililiis" "Chai Coffee Chai Coffeeeeeeee!" Things I saw for sale that day: egg sandwiches, vatapovs (indian burgers), hair barrets, table mats, candy (they call candy chocolate even if it's lemon hard candy),key chains, bottled water, Q-tips, and some delicious looking idlis with coconut chutney.
The wedding itself was not like I had expected except for the fact that it was colorfuland there were lots of flowers. They were SO honored that I was there that they sat me in front of even the families. They bought me a pepsi and touched my feet as a sign of respect. (Because I am a foreigner?) I couldn't tell when the ceremony started because people were up and walking around talking like it was still being set up. It was loud! Drums and a weird reed instument chanted in the background while people were yelling in Hindu. People swarmed the stage area and I could hardly see from the front row! Very Chaotic! They performed many rituals I didn't understand (but I was captivated by) including dumping lots of rice over the bride and grooms heads, feeding a fire bananas and other tid bits, and tying a bit of their clothing together. The fire made my eyes burn and water. They served the wedding feast on banana leaves. It was very good.
Things are feeling less crazy than they did when I first arrived. I no longer grip the oh-shit-handle in the car/taxi as much as we swerve though traffic. I have been out and about more often. I'm more used to the slower pace of things (somethings are slower, some faster). I'm getting better at being uncomfortable. That may sound odd, but I'm WAY out of my element here, and that's okay. The phrase I use the most in my head as I adjust is "get over it." Whenever I hear myself whine in my thoughts, I use this phrase. "These people are staring at me." The misquitos won't stop biting me." Thoughts like that, It works pretty well.
My schedule isn't set yet. I get up at 7 am, almost exactly, everyday. this is a miracle because I dropped my Shiva alarm clock and all the arms fell off except for one. So, I get up from my body clock and that's all. i go to breakfast and then my day varies. There have been many days that I have gone to see the many different projaects that Maher has. yesterday was one of those days. I went and saw the house that they have for mentally ill women that Maher pulls from off the sides of the road. It also houses elderly and children. I was a bit nervous at first to go there because I have heard it can be difficult to be around the women since some are so mentally ill. I also have had very little experience with mentallly ill people. (I had to ask myself why-why is it so scary, really? Here's where that phrase come to mind- get over it.) i was actually quite impressed. The gardens around the facility where they grow veggies are alot bigger than I expected and they really add to the beauty of the place. The women I met there were a mix: some really friendly and easy to be around, some more ill and harder to be around. I even saw two familar faces. One woman had come to stay at the house where i live in Vadu for the holidays. The other woman was the one that Sister Meena had picked up from the trainstation in Mumbai. She rode the train back with us.
About a week ago a woman approached me and chatted on and on in Hindu (which i don't speak at all, not even to say I don't speak Hindu). I figgured out what was going on once she handed me a glittery gnesh wedding invatation. A Hindu wedding! Yes! Two members of the staff were going, so I went with them to Mumbai. We took the trainwhich was quite an experience all to itself. The Pune trainstation smells like stale and fresh human feces. it's worse than I imagined. There's people sleeping on the ground, trash everywhere (trash is everywhere in general, but worse in some areas) and loud noises. The train itseld wasn't bad. The windows were open so the hot air was at least moving. i got to see alot of stretched landscapes and green rice paddies. i like how much is sold on trains. Men walk up and down the train peddling their wares, yelling over and over the name of their product. "Idlis! Idlililililiis" "Chai Coffee Chai Coffeeeeeeee!" Things I saw for sale that day: egg sandwiches, vatapovs (indian burgers), hair barrets, table mats, candy (they call candy chocolate even if it's lemon hard candy),key chains, bottled water, Q-tips, and some delicious looking idlis with coconut chutney.
The wedding itself was not like I had expected except for the fact that it was colorfuland there were lots of flowers. They were SO honored that I was there that they sat me in front of even the families. They bought me a pepsi and touched my feet as a sign of respect. (Because I am a foreigner?) I couldn't tell when the ceremony started because people were up and walking around talking like it was still being set up. It was loud! Drums and a weird reed instument chanted in the background while people were yelling in Hindu. People swarmed the stage area and I could hardly see from the front row! Very Chaotic! They performed many rituals I didn't understand (but I was captivated by) including dumping lots of rice over the bride and grooms heads, feeding a fire bananas and other tid bits, and tying a bit of their clothing together. The fire made my eyes burn and water. They served the wedding feast on banana leaves. It was very good.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Putting the "I" in India
Travel day (or how I chased the sun):
I must say, Korean Air is pretty great. The flight attendants wear chic clothes. They give you disposable slippers. Best yet, they have screens on the backs of the seats that offer multimedia entertainment including movies, video games, music, and a flight map thing that lets you see were you are. I watched 3 or 4 movies on that first 11 hour flight. The meal was good too- a Korean dish with rice and hot chilli sauce that I drowned the whole plate in.
The Koean airport looked like a mall (full of Korean people). Not many food joints like at other airports. Just a sea of perfume, handbag, and clothing stores. The air port also had a glass room that people could smoke in, right there! I laughed and walked on, finding KFC and free internet.
After the next 8 hours of flight in a plane filled with many more Indians than the last plane, I arrived at Mumbai. It's ariport seemed small to me- more like Gainesville's airport than any international airport I have been too. I tried to figure out what to do through the fog of a plane-hang over, sleep depravation, and overstimulation. This is a functional state for me, apparently. No problem! I converted my pile of U.S. currency into a RIDICULOUS pile of Rupees. I felt I should have had one of those black suitcases to put it in, instead of cramming the the huge wads hastily into my purse.
Stepping out of the airport and into the warm, fragrant air, I quickly spotted 2 boys holding a MAHER sign. I sighed in great relief. They had huge smiles and got our cab. I thought I would sleep in the taxi to Pune, but I was in INDIA. It's not a very subtle place, either. It's all up in your face, even in a cab. My first thoughts of India had alot of curse words in them, because I was in a cab. The driving in India is unbelieveble! I wonder if there are traffic laws at all and what they might be. The lines in the road that mark the lanes? A suggestion- not followed. One way traffc? Why not drive a car backwards in it?!!! There are big trucks, cars, taxis, rickshaws, motorcycles (with the WHOLE family on them at once), bikes, and cows all over the road. The horn is another matter. HONK! means "here I come!" Drivers honk as they pass one another. That's alot of honking. As, the sun came up we entered Pune. People were going to work, singing in temples, cleaning their store fronts. We passed slums, cows, dogs, goats, and many many many many many people. The city left me dazed and I was thankful that our taxi had pulled onto the decrepit road that leads to the Villlage of Vadhu Budruk and Maher.
I'm not gunna lie- there ARE a lot of cows. The cows look more majestic than ours with their fancy painted horns. It must have gone to their heads too because they look like they know they are sacred and not meant to be sandwiches.
I was welcomed with smiles and Chai tea (my new favorite thing- it tastes more like thai tea to me than our American version of CHai.) Then the children that were there sang a welcome song and gave me a flower garland, that red stuff for between my eyes, hugs, and more flowers. They took me to my room to sleep. Yes! I got a room! It was a hot, humid, flower scented slumber...
Waking in India:
Waking up in India is less of a surprise everyday. The sun rises like a big orange ball through the fog and air pollution. You can hear songs of prayer in the distance and insects chirping. It's a pleasant surprise to me that the heat takes a rest at night, and the temperature drops just a bit. Its still very hot. The children wake up and the aire is filled with laughter, screetching, and crying.
The children have won my heart. They are beautiful, curious, joyous, and playful. They make me feel welcome. Right now is Holidays (till Nov 21st) so most of the 300 children have gone to stay with their parent(s)/family. Most of Maher's children have at least one parent, but that parent is too poor to take care of them. The ones I met have noone- no parents or home to go to. It's hard to believe it because they are so wonderful. We play. I teach them English. They teach me Marathi. I forget everything they teach me five minutes later, but they don't seem to mind.
People do speak English, but not very much. The best speakers are usually away doing business. I have learned to speak slowly and clearly with simple sentences. Body language is good too. Everyday is a game of what-the-heck-is-going-on. I am treated like a queen all the time which drives me crazy.After a week, they are just now letting me wash my cup.The children give me their jewelry which is really touching since they don't own much, but I can't give them anything in return. There is a rule that you can't give attension or gifts to just one woman or child. I don't have enough for the 300 children or 150 women. Damn.
I've befriended one the women that cooks, named Kuputne. Her english is a bit better and she lets me help her cook and sort beans and such. Her story is so sad. She just feels like home to me, like she could be my best friend. I try to get into the kitchen to help for at least one meal a day if I can.
I'm running out of time on this computer, so I'll end with really random stuff and right more later. No proof reading either- no time, so deal with it. The middle finger is just a finger here. I'm going to a wedding in Mumbai tomorrow. I cannot wear these clothes properly. Indian toilets are not that big of a deal. There are huge lightning storms here. I will probably get hook worm.
Thinking of friends and family- miss you all.
I must say, Korean Air is pretty great. The flight attendants wear chic clothes. They give you disposable slippers. Best yet, they have screens on the backs of the seats that offer multimedia entertainment including movies, video games, music, and a flight map thing that lets you see were you are. I watched 3 or 4 movies on that first 11 hour flight. The meal was good too- a Korean dish with rice and hot chilli sauce that I drowned the whole plate in.
The Koean airport looked like a mall (full of Korean people). Not many food joints like at other airports. Just a sea of perfume, handbag, and clothing stores. The air port also had a glass room that people could smoke in, right there! I laughed and walked on, finding KFC and free internet.
After the next 8 hours of flight in a plane filled with many more Indians than the last plane, I arrived at Mumbai. It's ariport seemed small to me- more like Gainesville's airport than any international airport I have been too. I tried to figure out what to do through the fog of a plane-hang over, sleep depravation, and overstimulation. This is a functional state for me, apparently. No problem! I converted my pile of U.S. currency into a RIDICULOUS pile of Rupees. I felt I should have had one of those black suitcases to put it in, instead of cramming the the huge wads hastily into my purse.
Stepping out of the airport and into the warm, fragrant air, I quickly spotted 2 boys holding a MAHER sign. I sighed in great relief. They had huge smiles and got our cab. I thought I would sleep in the taxi to Pune, but I was in INDIA. It's not a very subtle place, either. It's all up in your face, even in a cab. My first thoughts of India had alot of curse words in them, because I was in a cab. The driving in India is unbelieveble! I wonder if there are traffic laws at all and what they might be. The lines in the road that mark the lanes? A suggestion- not followed. One way traffc? Why not drive a car backwards in it?!!! There are big trucks, cars, taxis, rickshaws, motorcycles (with the WHOLE family on them at once), bikes, and cows all over the road. The horn is another matter. HONK! means "here I come!" Drivers honk as they pass one another. That's alot of honking. As, the sun came up we entered Pune. People were going to work, singing in temples, cleaning their store fronts. We passed slums, cows, dogs, goats, and many many many many many people. The city left me dazed and I was thankful that our taxi had pulled onto the decrepit road that leads to the Villlage of Vadhu Budruk and Maher.
I'm not gunna lie- there ARE a lot of cows. The cows look more majestic than ours with their fancy painted horns. It must have gone to their heads too because they look like they know they are sacred and not meant to be sandwiches.
I was welcomed with smiles and Chai tea (my new favorite thing- it tastes more like thai tea to me than our American version of CHai.) Then the children that were there sang a welcome song and gave me a flower garland, that red stuff for between my eyes, hugs, and more flowers. They took me to my room to sleep. Yes! I got a room! It was a hot, humid, flower scented slumber...
Waking in India:
Waking up in India is less of a surprise everyday. The sun rises like a big orange ball through the fog and air pollution. You can hear songs of prayer in the distance and insects chirping. It's a pleasant surprise to me that the heat takes a rest at night, and the temperature drops just a bit. Its still very hot. The children wake up and the aire is filled with laughter, screetching, and crying.
The children have won my heart. They are beautiful, curious, joyous, and playful. They make me feel welcome. Right now is Holidays (till Nov 21st) so most of the 300 children have gone to stay with their parent(s)/family. Most of Maher's children have at least one parent, but that parent is too poor to take care of them. The ones I met have noone- no parents or home to go to. It's hard to believe it because they are so wonderful. We play. I teach them English. They teach me Marathi. I forget everything they teach me five minutes later, but they don't seem to mind.
People do speak English, but not very much. The best speakers are usually away doing business. I have learned to speak slowly and clearly with simple sentences. Body language is good too. Everyday is a game of what-the-heck-is-going-on. I am treated like a queen all the time which drives me crazy.After a week, they are just now letting me wash my cup.The children give me their jewelry which is really touching since they don't own much, but I can't give them anything in return. There is a rule that you can't give attension or gifts to just one woman or child. I don't have enough for the 300 children or 150 women. Damn.
I've befriended one the women that cooks, named Kuputne. Her english is a bit better and she lets me help her cook and sort beans and such. Her story is so sad. She just feels like home to me, like she could be my best friend. I try to get into the kitchen to help for at least one meal a day if I can.
I'm running out of time on this computer, so I'll end with really random stuff and right more later. No proof reading either- no time, so deal with it. The middle finger is just a finger here. I'm going to a wedding in Mumbai tomorrow. I cannot wear these clothes properly. Indian toilets are not that big of a deal. There are huge lightning storms here. I will probably get hook worm.
Thinking of friends and family- miss you all.
Monday, November 8, 2010
It begins with a suitcase
Welcome to my India blog! Today is the day before the big (long) flight. It's time to pack the tooth brush, take one last hot shower, and eat the American food that I may miss while I am gone. I am excited and a bit bewildered. I thought I'd take a minute to give a brief introduction to where I am going and what I will be doing.
For the next three months, I will be residing in the small village of Vadhu Budruk near Pune, India. From what I have heard, Pune is about five hours from Mumbai if you are driving without traffic. (Mumbai was formally known as Bombay, for those of you who did not know.) I will be staying and volunteering with the Maher Project. Maher, which translates as "mother's home", is a project for destitute women and children. They have helped more than 1,300 women since 1997 that would otherwise have faced a very bleak future of murder, starvation, or suicide. They offer a variety of services including shelter, legal aid, counseling, education, health care, and skill training. Maher is an interfaith community that honors all religions and does not recognize the caste system. I will be helping by doing anything I can, including tutoring English to some of the students.
For more information on Maher, there is a very in depth website with stories, photos, and even products you can buy that help support their efforts.
Please check it out:
http://www.maherashram.org/
This blog will be my raw experiences of India, should you want to follow them. I am not pretending to be a great writer and you will have to put up with grammar errors (my greatest fear at this point is that the students that I will be tutoring will pick up my bad habits). I will be an American in a new culture and may offend. I may cuss. I may cry. I will bring up subjects like the glorious Indian toilet. Prepare yourself and rest assured that all the smells of India will not transfer through the computer. All cautions aside, I must say that I am more than thrilled to have an opportunity this great. I await some marvelous adventures with an open heart, a suit case, and a few rolls of toilet paper.
For the next three months, I will be residing in the small village of Vadhu Budruk near Pune, India. From what I have heard, Pune is about five hours from Mumbai if you are driving without traffic. (Mumbai was formally known as Bombay, for those of you who did not know.) I will be staying and volunteering with the Maher Project. Maher, which translates as "mother's home", is a project for destitute women and children. They have helped more than 1,300 women since 1997 that would otherwise have faced a very bleak future of murder, starvation, or suicide. They offer a variety of services including shelter, legal aid, counseling, education, health care, and skill training. Maher is an interfaith community that honors all religions and does not recognize the caste system. I will be helping by doing anything I can, including tutoring English to some of the students.
For more information on Maher, there is a very in depth website with stories, photos, and even products you can buy that help support their efforts.
Please check it out:
http://www.maherashram.org/
This blog will be my raw experiences of India, should you want to follow them. I am not pretending to be a great writer and you will have to put up with grammar errors (my greatest fear at this point is that the students that I will be tutoring will pick up my bad habits). I will be an American in a new culture and may offend. I may cuss. I may cry. I will bring up subjects like the glorious Indian toilet. Prepare yourself and rest assured that all the smells of India will not transfer through the computer. All cautions aside, I must say that I am more than thrilled to have an opportunity this great. I await some marvelous adventures with an open heart, a suit case, and a few rolls of toilet paper.
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