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.
Monday, November 29, 2010
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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