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.