Delhi, Day 2

Well once again there is a bit of an unintended gap between posts, but Christmas and then another quick trip to Bombay sort of got in the way. But, though a bit late, here is the previously promised post on our second day in Delhi!

Some kids wanted my picture in front of  the tower

Basically our second day was dedicated to the main sites which are actually within the city. So first thing in the morning we packed into our Mahyco cars and headed off to the first of many Delhi icons- Qutub Minar. As soon as we arrived I could tell why this had been assigned so much importance within the city. Amidst arching gates and pillars, a massive tower built of red sandstone simply erupts from the ground. From the very base up to as high as I could see, the tower was wrapped in intricate carvings, particularly inscriptions from the Qur'an. Try as I might it was impossible to imagine such complexity being built close to a century ago, without the modern ease provided by cranes or power tools. How the largest tower in India could have been developed from the ground up out of sheer piles of stone I simply don't know. It makes me realize that while the size of construction may have exploded since 1200, that in no way reflects the imaginative scope it takes to build something like this. No one today would suggest a construction that would span multiple generations, and no where will you find thousands of workers willing to start a project they will never see to the end. The ambition and dedication needed to build structures such as this one will never cease to astound me.

The Lotus Temple from the garden in front.

From there we went to a more modern Delhi sight- the lotus temple. The lotus temple is, as you would guess, built in the shape of a giant lotus flower. It is basically a nondenominational place of worship, though technically it is associated with the Baha'i faith (which thinks that belief and prayer of all kind is holy). I thought it was a really clever building, with pools all around it to simulate a lotus sitting in water. And though it was bustling with school kids and tourists such as ourselves, as soon as you get inside you are met with peaceful silence. I have been in a lot of massive churches, but this one didn't feel anything like those. It was very modern, so the inside was filled with steel arches and supportive beams. I thought it was very interesting, and totally different from most of the places of worship I have visited while traveling.

Next we met Usha for lunch at a place called Karim's, which is a Muslim restaurant. We made our way to the predominantly Muslim part of the city, and pulled up along the main street. From there, the roads were too narrow to continue by car, so we walked out into the winding streets. It is always easy to tell when you have moved into a Muslim area of a city simply by looking around you. For one thing, you will see a lot more people in Muslim clothes, and along the roads all of the shops start selling prayer mats and the traditional skull caps. But another easy way to tell is suddenly instead of just Hindi or sometimes English, all of the signs are written in Urdu, and then sometimes Hindi as well. After wandering through congested streets, we finally made it to the restaurant.

I'm sure the architecture style looks quite familiar.

Karim's is famous for their kebabs, so it was not exactly ideal for vegetarians. But in India there will always be something vegetarian, and they also had fantastic rotis (breads) so I was not complaining. Unlike Hindus, most of whom are vegetarian, Muslims eat a lot of meat, mostly chicken and mutton. So, to continue the Delhi trend, we vegetarians had some paneer, as well as two other vegetable dishes, which were quite delicious. Usha met us at the restaurant towards the end of lunch and we continued to our next sight, which was actually just a few blocks from us. Soon we found ourselves at an arching gate, which would lead us to Humayun's Tomb. Humayun was a Muslim emperor during the Mughal rule. Mughal Emperors ruled for a long time not only in India, but in a good deal of Asia and the middle east. A lot of India's most iconic structures, like the giant dome of the Taj Mahal and other similar buildings, are actually due to this Islamic influence. So Humayun's Tomb also had the characteristics of Mughal buildings- a red sandstone building culminating in a white marble dome. And of course, from top to bottom it is laden with carvings in different coloured stone, both decorative and words from the Qur'an. And one of my favourite details, were the beautifully kept gardens which surrounded the tomb.

Once we had seen some incredibly impressive sights, we decided to finish off the day with a bit of Delhi shopping. A relative of Usha's has a jewelry shop in a nice area of Delhi, so we visited there and wandered a bit in that area, popping into tea and antique shops. Then we were taken to a special scarf and shawl shop, which is particularly known for their pashminas. We spent at least an hour and a half being shown various colours, patterns, and grades of scarf, and then of course once we had selected, we had to begin the tedious haggling process. In most nice Indian shops, you don't actually browse for things. Rather you sit around a cushioned table as the employees of the shop toss item after item in front of you, piling things up until they are eventually swept away and the process starts all over again. We easily saw hundreds of things before we eventually made our choices.

By the time we got back to our hotel we were exhausted from a long day of sight seeing. Rather than attempt to find somewhere nice to eat, we settled for order in pizza and an early night. The next morning we would have to get up early to head for Agra, and I for one was very grateful to settle into my bed. Once again, I think it is probably in all of your best interests that I leave this post here and write up another one for the next day. However this time I will actually be speedy with my further writings! After all, the next day would be the pinnacle of any tourists visit to Delhi, and perhaps India in general. 

Arrival in Delhi

Well it has been quite a while since my last post, but believe it or not I am still in India and I swear I haven't forgotten entirely that I should be writing about it. The past two weeks I have actually been away from school, the first of which producing very little write about, and then the past few days suddenly there is a lot to report. Two weeks ago I started to get pretty sick, and low and behold I came down with more or less my first Indian illness. I figured it was only a matter of time, since the Jubilee kids all started getting sick at the same time, when season changed. After all, I am really doing the same thing that they are- trying to build up the immune system to handle a brand new place. So I spent about a week battling off both a bacterial and viral infection, thus producing very little of interest to write about.

Lucky that the sickness happened when it did though, as the next week would bring the trip to Delhi we have been planning for a while. It actually worked out perfectly, with me getting rid of all traces of microscopic invasions just before we left for our trip, which I had been looking forward to since I got here. We left early Monday morning, along with Ben and Brian's cousin Nikita, who hadn't seen the Taj yet and jumped at the opportunity. We reached Delhi in the late morning, and headed straight to our hotel. As always I was excited at the prospect of driving around a new city for a bit, trying to get my bearings and pick out some differences. Right away I noticed that Delhi felt much less dense than Bombay, and the roads, which can be such a huge problem, were actually in fairly good condition. Because Bombay is located on an island, it needed to be tightly packed and built as tall as possible, sort of like New York City. But Delhi doesn't have this constraint, so it is not nearly as vertical as Bombay. There are still a lot of really big modern buildings, but most of those are longer and wider, so you don't exactly feel like you are being surrounded on all sides, as in Bombay.

We reached the hotel, which was right in the heart of a street market. My Mom had flown in early that morning, so I was excited to see her for the first time in months. We all met up, and decided to head out for an early lunch before starting off the day. Usha had business that day, so she was more or less orchestrating our first day from afar; texting us how to get to good restaurants and which sights we should be seeing. She guided us to a great restaurant just around the corner, and we got our first taste of Delhi food of the trip. If there is one thing that Delhi is known for, it is probably paneer. Every meal had at least one, if not two, paneer dishes, and while absolutely delicious, I can pretty confidently say we will be evading the bags of dense cheese  in our own freezer for a few weeks now.

One of the government buildings.

From the restaurant, the six of us drove to our first few sights of the day. There was a noticeable shift the closer we got to India Gate, as streets that were once densely populated by locals transformed into floods of tourists, just like ourselves. The once unfamiliar attention Michael and I get in places like Jalna and Aurangabad has become so ordinary, that at first even I have to adjust to suddenly having foreigners all around me. It actually helps me understand the tendency that locals have to stare, as even I found myself wondering what these travellers were doing in India. What brought them here specifically? Is India just another place on their list of vacation destinations? But people watching, while at times pretty interesting, was not what had brought us here in the first place. As soon as we started walking around, my attention was pulled from my fellow sight-seers, and towards the magnificent structures around us.

India Gate!

India Gate is surrounded by the buildings of Parliament, built in the time of the British. We walked for a while between massive buildings built of a sandy red stone, and at the end of the avenue we reached the President's house. It was gated off, so we couldn't get too close, but the intricacy of the stonework and massive lawn was impressive nonetheless. At the other end of the road we reached our main attraction- India Gate. India Gate is a massive stone archway, built to commemoration Indian soldiers from various wars. When you see video clips of processions in Delhi, they are probably set right in front of the Gate, so it was a fairly familiar site. Of course, as one of the city's most popular tourist destination, there was an immediate onset of touts, pushing their trinkets and souvenirs. I have become pretty familiar with the rush of various touristy must-haves, but I think this was the most aggressive pushing of goods I have ever experienced. One woman who was doing henna actually grabbed my hand and tried to forcibly apply the designs to my skin. I don't really hold it against any of them though, and in the end I still got to see an amazing monument.

The rest of our afternoon was pretty relaxed. We went to a shopping area called Connaught Circus, which was just a series of little shops built into the original British buildings. I always think it is so interesting when the original architecture is preserved and modern things like stores take over the interior. So I enjoyed checking out the buildings as we wandered around for a little bit, before Brian left to pick up his and Ben's cousin Mike from the airport. The rest of us went back to the hotel and decided to check out the surrounding market. I think there is something very unique about the experience of walking around street markets. It is an experience that I have often missed in the United States, because it feels so much more involved than the generic shopping mall. So I had a great time looking at what the stalls had to offer, and of course observing the people around me. There ended up being a couple of things I was interested in, so I also got to experience one of the most iconic parts of a street market- haggling. Of course, being white and speaking minimal Hindi doesn't make it too easy, but I ended up dropping the price from 350 to 250, and it was definitely something new, so I left pretty happy.

We ended the night with dinner back at Connaught Circus, at a place called Kwality Restaurant. While in the United States I would probably take this title to be blatantly sarcastic, and guard myself against glaring fluorescent lights, plastic booths, and intestinal bombardment, in India that is a perfectly respectable name. Indian shops and restaurants are frequented by cutesy spelling and puns, which actually helps them to stand out, rather than forcing them into the American realm of tackiness. Once again we were treated to plenty of delicious Delhi food, and left very satisfied. We opted for an early night, as the next day would of course, be very busy. But I think our second day in Delhi will require its own post, because the current length of this post is threatening to thoroughly overwhelm any reader. Don't fret, I wouldn't dare put you through the intensity of a post four times this size. But believe me, this was just the beginning of our Delhi adventures!

The Little Things

I think one of the reasons you really have to visit a place to understand it, rather than simply reading about it, is that for the most part research and reading just gives you the big picture. And while getting a general perception of a place is a good thing, what I always miss are the little details that completely endear a place to you. I love noticing the little things about a place that make it special, and that is something you can only get from seeing it for yourself. So I thought I would do a blog post about some of those things- details that might be overlooked in the usual big-picture blog post. So here you go, random thoughts on what I love about India!

• Ok so it probably doesn't come as much of a surprise that one of the first things I started noticing was the language. And I don't just mean Hindi, I am talking about the difference between American and Indian English. I can't help but notice the way things are structured and phrased, and there is something really fantastic and interesting to me about Indian English. Basically Indian English consists of a lot of direct translations from Hindi that add a bit of a confusing flourish to the language. My favourite example is a teacher at school, who in response to a student chewing his fingernails snapped, "Hey! Don't eat your fingers!" Then there is the accent itself, with its unexpected puffs of air, accentuated consonants, and warped vowels. In short, I never tire of simply listening to daily conversation.
• Massive metal monstrosities flooding highways, couriering boxes of paperclips or burlap sacks filled with Iowan potatoes, while common-place in America, would seem in India like technology on display in an art museum. For one thing, there aren't really "highways" for them to drive on, but the main point that I am trying to make is that Indian trucks actually bring something interesting to the table. They are all painted bright colours, often with designs criss-crossing from one side to the other, or thin chains draped along the bottom decoratively. Then on the back each of them says something along the lines of "Horn OK Please" in elegantly slanted letters (yet another example of the comedy of Indian English). But my favourite bit of all is the horn. Rather than the constant grating honk of an American semi, the trucks play little bits of Bollywood songs on loop, turning the roads into an animated musical.

So those turned out to be some pretty lengthy descriptions. Now here comes the rapid-fire round.

• Men walk around holding hands (or just pinkies) because why wouldn't you express how close you are to the people around you? Those stupid stigmas you would find in the west, that frown upon showing affection for they people around you, thankfully don't exist.
• Facial hair, and lots of it. I'm talking perfectly sculpted curly moustaches galore. Or the carefully trimmed straight across kind that I am starting to think is an official part of the watchmen uniform cross-country.
• There is a festival to celebrate the cows and buffaloes and how much they do for farmers, in which they paint their horns lots of bright colours. So still these big animals meander through the city with bright red or blue bursting out of their heads.
• Bright pink turbans. Just walking through villages they are everywhere, and to the average westerner they seem like a huge contradiction (traditional...and bright pink?) but they are perfectly commonplace.
• Possibly the most characteristic Indian mannerism, which week by week will creep up on you until you become an irreversible convert- the Indian head bobble. Whether it is a sign of ascent or a friendly greeting, I dare you to come to India for more than a month and not find yourself head bobbling every once in a while.
• My parents will I'm sure remember with chagrin my childhood days when I would let go of all inhibitions and belch completely openly. Well I can now say I was just being multicultural, because the feeling towards burping here is much more relaxed.
• The majority of people drive motorcycles, not cars, so you frequently see motorbikes with guys holding bizarre things on back. One person is driving and the one in back is carrying a rolled up rug, giant picture frame, roll of cables, or a live goat. You name it, someone has found a way to transport that on the back of a bike.
• Standard male attire between ages 15 and 30: dress pants, flip flops, and some brightly coloured (often metallic) shirt, generally button down. Yes, it is a pile of contradictions.
• Every house in town is painted some bright colour like pink or turquoise. So you can tell exactly how old a building is by how far the paint has faded. Towns like Jalna become a sea of pastels with the occasional island of vividly fresh paint.
• While in the United States a child might get excited about seeing a dog walking in the street, animals of all kind are so commonplace throughout cities that there is no need. Dogs, cats, pigs, goats, cows, and water buffaloes wander around, at times halting traffic, and simply spend their days rifling through street-side garbage. The occasional camel or horse wouldn't even be that uncommon, and in bigger cities I have even seen elephants being led through the streets.
• If there is ever an accident on the road, somewhere between fifty and a hundred people will just flock to see what is going on. They have absolutely nothing to do with what happened, but they were either hanging out at chai shops, or have pulled their bikes to the side of the road simply out of curiosity. They look at the scene, talk amongst themselves, and create the most intense bottle-necking traffic possible.
• The smiles. In India, you encounter some of the most genuine smiles on the planet. Simply greeting people you may have never even met before might just make your day.

This is by no means a comprehensive list of the details of life here, but it gives you an idea of a couple of little things that I love about India. I don't think I will ever stop taking pleasure in all these little things, because no matter how long I am here, new things still seem to come up each day. And just as much as the big events from my time here, these are the things that I don't want to let normal life back home make me forget.

South India- Part II

From Hyderabad we traveled further south to Chennai, one of the biggest cities in south India. We were only there for a day, and for most of that day the Dekhon group was giving a presentation at the local eye-hospital, but I still enjoyed getting to see a bit of a new place. Unlike Mumbai, which is located on an island and thus had to be built upward, Chennai is just an endless sprawl. It's in a much flatter area, right on the coast, so from the heart of the city buildings just explode outwards.

I spent the morning at the guesthouse where we were staying, along with the cook. Chennai is in Tamil Nadu, so the official language is Tamil, which once again takes precedence over Hindi. The cook however, spoke a good deal of English, and surprisingly some Hindi too, so we were able to get along just fine. She knew that we had come from Maharashtra, so for lunch she made a couple of dishes that I would be familiar with (chapatis, dahl, okra subji) as well as a south Indian dish. It seems that whether or not I will like Indian food is a constant source of concern for people, so it was actually quite sweet of her to make me things which she thought I would be comfortable with. We talked a lot about the differences in food, what I liked about India, and other things like that. Most of our conversation was in English, though often we would each slip in some Hindi words. For a native Tamil speaker, I think it was just as exciting for her to show off a bit of Hindi knowledge as it always is for me.

The aforementioned giant dosa, called paper dosa.

I don't think I have talked about the difference in food yet, which is definitely something that needs mentioning. You can find south Indian food just about anywhere, so I was already familiar with some of it. From my first taste it had become a fast favourite, so I had been anxiously awaiting an opportunity to try some of the authentic stuff. The staple of south Indian food is rice, which is much less heavily featured in Maharashtra. Every meal is eaten with some rice variant, so due to the massive demand it is also one of the main agricultural products. A typical south Indian dish, as well as one of my favourites, is called dosa. You find dosa just about everywhere, so when I think about south Indian food, this is the first place my mind goes. They are like crispy rice pancakes, and are often eaten with a sort of soup called sambar. There are lots of different varieties of dosa, some of which have vegetables folded into them, and others are a couple of feet long, all curled up and crispy.

The actual style of eating is different as well. In Maharashtra, everyone eats with their hands, which I practice I was more than happy to adopt. Some people say that utensils taint the flavours of the food, and while I'm not so sure that is true for me, any chicken nugget and french fry loving kid will agree, that there is simply something fun about eating with your fingers. Anyway, in Maharashtra it is perfectly polite to mash up your food on your plate and suck it off the tips of fingers, formed into a pinched triangular cup. The only rule is that the food can never pass your top knuckle, everything must be kept on your fingers. If you don't keep your eating habits under control, you risk appearing rude or provincial. In the south however, all rules of etiquette are thrown to the wind. On the average south Indian plate you find a monstrous pile of rice, a couple of vegetable dishes (generally soupier than those found in Maharasthra), and often some dahl. But those dishes don't stay segregated for long. With the whole hand (I'm talking all the way up to the wrist) everything is mixed together into one giant slop. Then, again using the entire hand, the mush is rolled into balls and gobbled up from an open palm. By the end of the meal, the shiny metal surface of the plate is the only thing even remotely clean.

Once everyone had finished their meetings, we went out to dinner. To get to the restaurant we took one of the most readily available sources of transportation, and one of the most fun for me- the rickshaw. These aren't the kind of rickshaws that are pulled by bicyclists, they are auto-rickshaws and you find them everywhere in India. They run on natural gas, so they can only go so fast, but they are a really convenient way to get around. They are open on the sides so you are completely vulnerable to the elements, which could be either a blessing or a curse for some. Personally, I like being able to move through a place without feeling sealed off from the sights and sounds, the way you are in a car. In fact, the rickshaws are so prevalent, that schools use them as buses. It would be impossible to send a big bus all over the city to get children for school, and a big bus is expensive. So every morning in Jalna you see rickshaws, which can almost comfortably sit three in the back, carrying somewhere around ten kids. They pile in, sitting on top of each other, in the driver's lap, or standing up with their heads sticking out the sides. It's not exactly the strict safety standards of the American school system, but it makes school accessible for kids who might otherwise be out of reach.

Sorry to go on a bit of a tangent here, but I think the schools using rickshaws is a good example of the way problems are approached in India. If a problem like schools not being able to afford buses arose in the United States, everyone would go through an incredibly complicated and lengthy process to fix it. A public system would be set up and meticulously planned so that, months after the problem arose, it would be fixed, once and for all. In India however, you basically go straight through problems, sometimes in outlandish and complicated ways, but often just simple right-off-the-bat solutions. You do whatever is necessary to make the problem go away, with as little extra-energy expended as possible. It's like a truck that I saw driving around Jalna, with a huge load towering above the truck bed. With a load that tall, an American driver would have meticulously planned his route, no matter how long it ended up being, to avoid any obstacles. But here, I watched as the driver paused at an electrical line that spanned the road. Two men hopped off and pulled out giant wooden poles, which they used to hold the wire up as the driver continued under it. There is no point dwelling on a problem, it just takes a little creativity and you can get on with life.

Anyway, when we got to the restaurant we had a south Indian feast. We got three curries, two of which were sea food based since Chennai is right on the coast, to go with the inevitable rice-based dish. First, we had probably the most ridiculous looking thing I've eaten on this trip so far. I wish I had had my camera with me, but I have included a picture I found online just to give you an idea. Basically, it looked  like a little spaghetti monster, but it was made out of rice of course. It is called idiyappam, and is made from a rice batter that is squeezed out into long threads and piled up. You tear off chunks to dip into the curries, and I must say, it was delicious. Next we had appam, which is similar to dosa, in that it is rice batter that is pan fried. But unlike dosa, it has a big doughy puff in the middle. This was actually the first south Indian food I ever tried, so it was sort of like returning to my first food love.

Unfortunately, we didn't have time to see much of the city. One thing Chennai is really known for is its churches, because like a lot of the south, there is some heavy missionary influence. So it's too bad that we didn't get to see any of those, since some of them are apparently really impressive. But who knows, maybe I will get to come back one day. If that is ever the case, I think I now at least have a better culture understanding of southern India, so those grande sights could have a bit more of a backdrop.

A Stint in South India- Part I

As mentioned in my last post, after our bit in Bombay we headed to South India, for a few days in Hyderabad and Chennai. It was my first time in the south, and I was excited to see a new and unique part of the country. India is a huge place, which was only recently united into one national unit, so basically anywhere you go you will find major differences. Each city we visited had its own language, unique scenery, and traditional way of doing things. It made me realize how difficult it is to say that you have become familiar with "Indian" culture as a whole. So far, I been immersed in Maharashtrian culture, but that is barely grazing the surface of this wonderfully eclectic country.

The first city that we visited was Hyderabad, in the state of Andhra Pradesh. The official language is Telugu, so though it is the official language of India almost no one speaks Hindi. It also has a high Muslim population, so there are also a lot of Urdu speakers. Because of these language divides, English often becomes the lingua franca, as schools will teach the local language plus English. Though the language spoken is different, there is actually a long historical connection between Hyderabad and Mahrashtra, particularly the Jalna District. They were once a larger state, and at one point a Mughal emperor even moved the capital to Aurangabad. The connection continued through the Nizam period (1724-1948), when Hyderabad State was ruled by the Asaf Jahi dynasty. In fact, due to the Nizam's resistance, Jalna District was one of the last places to become a part of the nation of India, a full year after independence. Due to this close historical connection, there are actually a lot of shared traits between Jalna and Hyderabad. These range from small linguistic things like saying "Hao" for yes instead of the Hindi "Ha," to more prominent traits such as the general propensity towards being late.

Despite some similarities, right away I noticed a lot of major differences. For instance, the infrastructure in Hyderabad is far more developed than that of Maharashtra. I first noticed this in the roads, which all seemed relatively freshly paved, with multiple lanes. One of the major problems that cities like Aurangabad and Jalna face is the horrible state of their roads. Very little of the public money goes into road maintenance, so simply getting to school every morning becomes a struggle against an army of potholes. Then, as we were driving through the city, I noticed hospitals, pharmacies, and medical specialist centres everywhere. While not completely absent, these necessities are much less prevalent in places like Jalna, though admittedly it is a considerably smaller town. I asked Barkha (Ben and Brian's cousin) about why the infrastructure was so much more developed. Apparently this is commonplace throughout the south, where the political climate is much calmer than in Maharasthra. Corruption, a major problem in Indian government, while not entirely absent, is less oppressive than in Maharasthra. And fewer extreme religious groups make it easier for the government to make changes and get things done.

Char Minar, as seen from the bangle market.

Once the business part of the trip in Hyderabad was over, we went out to see a bit of the city. First we went to Char Minar, one of the most famous sites in Hyderabad. It is a mosque with four minarets, built to commemorate the end of a plague in the city. We went up to the first level of the towers, to look out over the bustling market area around the monument. Char Minar is located in a heavily Muslim populated area, so almost all of the signs were in Urdu, and most of the people in the streets were wearing traditional Muslim clothing. After our trip up the monument, we wandered through the bangle market just next to it. As we walked through the streets, men from the shops would shout to us to come look at things, and peddlers of other small trinkets crowded us from all sides. We eventually ended up in one of the shops, to get a better idea of the types of bangles that Hyderabad is evidently known for. The shop was lined wall to wall with bangles, necklaces, and earrings. The ceilings were covered in mirrors and dozens of light bulbs hung from wires to make all of the jewelry shine. I didn't buy anything, but we did use it as an opportunity to try our hand at bargaining. Needless to say, the two white people curiously looking on were not helping Barkha earn us the lowest price.

One of the bangle shops

After the market we visited Birla Temple, so that we could get a look at a Hindu temple as well. This one was much more modern, but still it was great to take a look at yet another display of religious grandeur. The entire building was made of white marble, though unfortunately cameras weren't allowed so I can't provide any proof. As we walked up the steps into the temple we passed statues and carvings set into the walls, depicting various gods and goddesses. The walk into the temple was designed to mirror a pilgrimage, so we were sent along a path all the way around the temple before we could enter.

We only spent two days in Hyderabad, but nonetheless it was a dense trip. From there we continued onto Chennai, and the topic of my next blog post.

Bombay Trekking

For a while now, we have been wanting to go to Bombay for a trek, just outside the city. There are some excellent hiking opportunities about an hour from Bombay, and personally I have been itching to get back into the great outdoors, particularly if it means discovering the scenery of a new country. So when Ben, Brian, and Michael needed to take a trip south to meet with some people and take a look at some eye hospitals, we thought it would be perfect to first spend a bit of time in Bombay. The plan was to travel to Bombay for two days, then continue on to Hyderabad (where we are now), and then finish up the trip in Chennai.

The original plan was to take the train from Aurangabad to Bombay, which takes about eight hours, but would give you a great look at Maharashtra. Unfortunately, our tickets didn't quite go through. We booked our tickets in advance, but we were put on the wait list. Basically that means if some VIP decides last minute that they want to take the train, we can get bumped. And that is precisely what happened, unfortunately. Particularly in India, connections can get you a long way. But luckily we found out about the tickets the night beforehand, and we weren't about to dwell on it. So we quickly booked plane tickets, which in the end earned us a few more hours of sleep than the 4 AM train would have.

We arrived in Bombay around 10, and since we were all a little exhausted we decided to hang out at the Bombay house for a while before heading out. So like the super cool people that we are, we flopped and watched multiple hours of How I Met Your Mother. But hey, every once in a while you have to indulge your American tv cravings. Once it got to be about lunch time, we headed out to my favourite restaurant in Bombay, and one of the things I was most excited about for this trip- Swati Snacks. Basically it serves typical street food, in an environment that won't tear my poor western stomach to bits. There is a huge selection, and it is great for sharing and getting a little taste of lots of different types of Indian food. Needless to say, I left lunch very satisfied.

After lunch we went to Phoenix, the biggest mall in Bombay. Stepping into that place, I felt like I was back in the west. Suddenly all of the stores were filled with European designer clothes, that were easily as expensive, if not more, than the things you would find in the US. And walking around, I found that the salwar kameez or sari that I have gotten used to seeing, had been replaced by short shorts and tank tops. I hardly saw any Indian clothes at all, just a few shops that were tucked away on the top floors, and the occasional older shopper. And for once, the white girl who was walking around didn't attract nearly as much attention. The posh Bombay kids weren't about to crane their necks at a display of western culture, when they pull on a pair of jeans and a printed tshirt just as often as do.

After some window shopping, we went to see a movie at the mall's theatre. At first glance, the theatre once again felt like a pool of western influence. But upon closer inspection I soon found that it was filled with some key cultural differences. For one thing, in addition to popcorn, one of the standard movie snacks is steamed corn with spices. It has the potential to be a healthy alternative to the greasy American classic, but considering the amount of butter they mix in, it really isn't all that much better for you. Then when we got into the the theatre, we had to find the seats that had been assigned to us on our tickets. And soon after sitting down, we had to stand back up again as they played the national anthem. I have gotten so used to hearing the kids sing it every morning, that I was almost expecting a chorus of "Goodmorning Teachers" as soon as the song ended, just as the students do. Then the movie started, and after an hour of standard movie watching, there was an intermission. All Indian movie theatres have intermissions, where people come around with snack menus. In Bollywood movies they have the intermission built in, so it works out just fine. But when they are showing western films, they have to stop it at a random point. The movie practically stopped midsentence, and then was backed up a bit when it started up again.
After the movie we went to dinner with Ben's cousins Deepak and Shirish, their wives Sarika and Pragaya, and two more cousins, Payal and Pooja. A good deal of the family lives in Bombay, so it has become a sort of hub for visits. As I have mentioned, visiting family is a very important part of Indian culture. You don't simply see people once a year for Christmas or Thanksgiving like in the US. So whenever we are flying through Bombay, it is important that we try and see everyone we can, at least once. And with such a large international family like Ben's, it is actually quite convenient. Whether they are visiting London, Toronto, or Chicago, there is always an available place to stay.
The next morning was the day if our hike. We left the house at six, so that we could be done hiking before the crippling heat of the afternoon fully set in. The six of us (Ben, Brian, Michael, two of Ben's friends from the colony, and myself) were joined by Deepak and a few of his friends. We all piled into three cars, and first headed over to a restaurant that was open early enough for some breakfast. The place was packed with people that were heading off to work. It basically reminded me of the Indian version of a 24 hour diner. And it was definitely far from your average tourist destination, so Michael and I were getting some particularly curious looks. We had idli sambar, which is a rice-based southern dish, and I had probably the best cup of coffee I have had all trip. It was served in a small metal cup, which you are meant to pour into a larger metal dish. All of the sugar is at the bottom, so you can pour it back and forth between the two dishes to mix the sugar in, depending on how sweet you want it. The wider metal dish also helps to cool the coffee to a better drinking tempature.

One of our first big views of the scenery from the trail.

Once we had eaten, we headed off towards Karnala Bird Sanctuary, where we would be hiking. It is amazing how quickly things transition from a densely-packed urban environment to sprawling mountains and hills. On our way out of the city, there was a brief break in buildings and then we passed through New Mumbai. New Mumbai is basically the equivalent of the suburbs, though it looks nothing like the American version. It is considerably less dense than downtown Mumbai, but still it is made up of tall apartment buildings. We continued for about half an hour from there, and then finally reached our hiking site.

Our rugged Indian trail required some expert butt-scooching.

Suddenly finding myself in a calm natural retreat, it seemed impossible that we could be such a short drive from a bustling metropolitan area. It felt fantastic setting off on a trail for the first time in so long. Of course, there were huge differences between our rugged Indian trail, almost more of a staircase of roots and rocks, and your average well-maintained American trail. But no matter where you may be, there is always familiar comfort in being outside, treating your body to some pleasant exhaustion. And I actually loved the fact that the trail was so different from what I was used to. At no point was I going to get into a groove and let my mind believe I was back in the Rocky Mountains. The whole way I was aware of the fact that I wasn't just exploring a new mountain, but the outdoors of a new country.

View from close to the top of the mountain.

We were hiking to the top of a mountain, where we found ourselves at an ancient fort called Karnala killa. The mountain is sometimes referred to as the thumbs up, because from the fort a giant point shoots up, making the entire mountain look like a hand. Of course, more than anything it made me want to rock climb to the actual top, because something about getting almost there just tore me up, but that would have required ropes and harnesses. Along the way we saw lots of wildlife, like giant spiders (I exaggerate not, they were probably about the size of my hand), monkeys, and the birds which were under protection. And once we got up high enough, we started seeing the magnificent mountain range that we found ourselves in. I think there is something really unique about Indian mountain ranges. The mountains were covered in trees and just rolled on as far as you could see. In the valleys between mountains and even over their tops, winter had brought a layer of thick mist. It was like gazing at a massive expanse of bubble wrap covered jungle, each mountain waiting for someone to reach over and pop it.

The walls of Karnala fort.

That was the main event of the trip, after which we mostly relaxed until our early morning flight to Hyderabad the next day. When I get home, I will write a post about our time in the south. So far though, I can very easily say that I have been having a great time with our bit of Indian travel. After all, that is why I am here- to experience and learn as much about this fantastic new country as I possibly can.

Mahyco

I realized recently that I have mentioned a few times that I am staying on "a compound," but I never quite elaborated on what that is. For those of you who know specifically where I am staying, you can think, "Oh she is just talking about Mahyco again." But if you don't know what that is, it probably sounds like I am right in the middle of a bad sci-fi movie or something. But fear not, my India experience is not rooted in becoming some strange experiment, and I swear I haven't been made into an alien avatar yet. So, to avoid further confusion, here is my little explanation of where exactly I am staying.

I am staying on a research facility which is owned by Mahyco, or Maharashtra Hybrid Seed Company. It is part of the Barwale foundation, which was founded by Ben's grandfather. The compound, as I call it, is made up of a colony where scientists and their families can live, the labs, greenhouses, the office building, a new facility where guests can stay, and our house. Mahyco is a company that works to create hybrid and genetically modified crops to be sold throughout India. They have a number of hybrid crops on the market already, and one BT (basically you use a bacterium to alter the genetic makeup) crop, which is cotton. 

Now that you have a basic idea what Mahyco does, I feel like I should touch on the actual topic of genetically modified foods. GM gets a really bad name in the United States, mostly because Monsanto is pretty much the only big name that people know of, and they give the whole business a bad name. Then you have companies like Greenpeace which also try and paint it as something evil, to be avoided at all costs. Keep in mind, this is all coming from a person who loves supporting local farmer's at farmers markets and frequents the food co-op regularly. I do take the environment very seriously, but the fact is, it simply doesn't make sense to expect that organic farming practices are at all realistic here.

In a country with as big a population and as low an average income as India, the most important thing becomes using land to its fullest potential to make sure that everyone can eat. So the way I see it, you have three options in farming practices. There are pesticides, organic farming, and genetically modified foods. Pesticides are probably the only common ground between environmentalists and the food scientists that you would find here. While they do increase yield, it is at the cost of environmental health and safety, placing it far away from the ideal situation. Then you have organic farming. Basically this involves a lot more work on the part of the farmer, and considerably lower yields. Lower yields, if widely adopted, would lead to higher food prices, which would lead to a large percentage of people not eating. Then you have genetically modified foods. GM requires considerably less pesticide, yet the plants are far more insect and virus resistant and produce a much higher yield. All in all, you are producing the food required to sustain a growing population, without compromising the environment's health.

Basically, I agree with a lot of organic farming principles, but organizations that completely exclude GM as a possibility are being stubborn. I agree that our focus should be health and stability of farm land, but GM in no way compromises that. I understand the desire to try and leave crops as basic and natural as possible, because environmental conservation is extremely important to me. But when you look at food production on a larger scale, it is made of a series of hybridizations that have been going on for thousands of years. Food production as a process is rooted in humans taking wild plants and domesticating them to suit their needs. It is not realistic to think that we can go on growing plants the way that they occur in nature on a large scale. Think about the rubber-band theory for example, in which a rapid development of one area of society necessitates the development of all others. With modern medicine increasing the average life expectancy, we have more or less passed our planet's carrying capacity. If we are going to use technology to increase the size of our population, it only makes sense that technology is required to sustain it. And that is why what Mahyco is doing is so important. You do see people starving here, but Mahyco tries to change that without compromising the integrity of this beautiful country itself.

Diwali- the Festival of Lights

I mentioned in a post a while ago that Diwali is the peak of the Indian holiday season. Well in the past few days I have gotten to experience just that- the ultimate fusion of exuberant, nonstop celebrating and regimented religious tradition that is Diwali. If you are familiar with any Hindu holidays, it would most likely be this one, and there is a reason for that. Diwali is basically the best parts of all the holidays I have ever experienced (good food, lots of people, bright decorations, fireworks) rolled into five spectacular days. So while Hindus do celebrate a lot of things, this is the one to remember.

Two of Ben's cousins, himself, and me at a firework stand.

Preparation for Diwali starts pretty far in advance. One thing that it is known for is cleaning, typically done to welcome the gods into your home. Before the celebration begins, everyone buys new clothes as well, to be worn during the Pooja, or worship. This can all be done in the week or so leading up to it. However, unlike in the States, where commercial Christmas more or less begins just after Halloween, the major preparations happen the night before hand. Almost overnight, standard roadside shops transformed into concrete vases, to hold their brightly lit and exuberantly coloured paper lantern bouquets. And joining these everyday shops, you suddenly find rows upon rows of firework stalls. So the real Diwali preparation begins with everyone rushing out to buy their household adornments and what will soon become the most festive displays.

Another aspect of Diwali that starts long before hand are the visits. It is seen as a time to visit family and friends, and in particular to give gifts of sweets. In the course of a day, our house was suddenly being bombarded with treats of all kinds, mostly the traditional Indian kind which are small, dense, and extremely sweet. Not to mention our own endeavor of baking upwards of 25 small cakes to send off to friends of our own. I have a theory that the tradition of dancing is simply to combat the influx of delicious food that accompanies the holiday season.

An example of rangoli, which the teachers at school made.

Diwali celebrates a lot of different things, but it is mainly the celebration of the god Rama returning from his exile. So a lot of the decorations have to do with welcoming. I mentioned the paper lanterns which you can buy in the markets and are traditionally hung and lit up outside your home. There is also the tradition of rangoli, which is a coloured powder used to decorate the threshold of your house. You sprinkle the powder in patterns outside your door, as a very bright reminder that all are welcome. Then there are the diyas, or lanterns, which are placed either on the rangoli or just outside the home. Traditionally they form a line leading up to the house, to guide the gods, but often they are just sprinkled around decoratively.

Ben's grandparents, aunt, uncle, cousins, and Mom

Like I said, one of the larger aspects of Diwali is visiting, which means it is generally spent with your family. So we spent the first couple of days in Ben's grandparent's house in Jalna, along with some of his other relatives. His grandparent's had their house built a little bit outside of the city, so it was a nice calm place to spend our holiday. Family is extremely important in India, much more so than in the United States, where you are mostly concerned with your direct relatives. Here, all of the cousins are really close, and the Jalna house is the perfect place for everyone to come and be together.

The intricate set-up for Laxmi Pooja

The main day that we celebrated was the 26th, which is the day of Laxmi Pooja. Laxmi Pooja is the specific set of prayers that happen during Diwali. The interesting thing about the pooja, and a lot of Hindu traditions in general actually, is that no one quite understands it. It is made up of a lot of very specific actions involving various flowers, fruits, silver coins, spices, etc. and of course a lot of singing. But very few people actually know what the specific aspects of the pooja are for, or what their overall significance is. Nonetheless, I found it extremely interesting, because when set up it creates this beautiful and almost artistic display. And the prayers themselves seem to run on forever in a single breath, endless strands pulled from a collective pool of religious knowledge. The worship finally culminated in a prayer song, in which everyone clapped the rhythm along with the pandit (the man leading the pooja, someone familiar with the prayers).

Ben and I setting off some firecrackers.

When the pooja was over, we started in on the main reason Diwali is so universally loved- the fireworks. I have never actually set off fireworks myself (I probably have the ever safety conscious laws of the United States to thank for that) so personally I was really excited about this. We had bought an entire cardboard box full the night before, and they were just waiting for us to begin the actual celebration. At this point we could already hear innumerable crackers going off throughout the city, as they had been for days, and our's quickly joined the mix. The fireworks ranged from colourful fountains, to spinning sparks, and all the way to the huge bursts in the sky that Americans are of course very familiar with. We also had box after box of sparklers, another Fourth of July favourite, to actually set the fireworks off. By the time we finished our entire box, the noises in the background had only multiplied. Though our celebrating was coming to a close, the joys of Diwali would continue long into the night. After all, it is the Festival of Lights.

Me with some sparklers, or phooljari (flower sticks)

Diwali also celebrates the New Year. The Hindu calendar is lunar, so the months end and begin on different days than our calendar. The day after Laxmi Pooja is considered the actual New Year day, and even more so than the others, this is the real day of visiting. So we headed off to Jalna to wish some friends a happy New Year. On our final stop, as is to be expected, they insisted that we have some of their food. They had made dashmi, which is a sweet flat bread, and probably one of my favourite lunches. Unfortunately, I was recovering from a stomach bug, so I wan't able to eat very much. But one thing that older Indian woman are particularly known for is being very insistent on just how much food you should be eating. And lucky for us this household happened to have three of them. Flitting between kitchen and dining room, each would bombard us in a never ending push of dashmi, chutnies, subji, and of course, desserts. Just when I had successfully communicated to one in Hindi that I was finished, another would sweep up from behind, refreshing the culinary infantry. But eventually the force-feeding did end (begrudgingly) and we made our way home.

That about ended our Diwali celebrations, though the holiday itself is actually five days long. Brian (Ben's brother) and his roommate Michel arrived on the 27th, so things have picked up around here. Of course, we celebrated their arrival with yet more fireworks, because why waste a perfectly good opportunity to blow things up? Besides, what better way for them to arrive than with explosives bright enough to cut through even the deepest jet lag? As for me, now I have the rest of my Diwali holiday from school to enjoy, since they give the kids enough time to travel and visit family. But around here, there will always be plenty to do.

Little Cabin in the Woods

When I first wrote about my time at Golden Jubilee School, I mostly talked about my time in the Jubilee kids room. But for a while I have mainly been working with the class just one year above them, in Lower Kindergarten. A few weeks into my time at the school, I was asked if there were any action songs I could teach to the LKG kids for an upcoming competition. That is something that happens a lot in India by the way- schools compete all the time in academic competitions, often spending weeks before hand in preparation. Now that I was at the school, they would have a bigger pool of English songs to draw from. They were hoping to get something brand new, that the judges had never heard, to give them a leg up.

Now for those readers from Camp Echo, this is going to seem absolutely ridiculous, and believe me it does to me too. The first thing I thought of, for some reason, was actually a camp song. Now the way that I taught it to the kids is completely different from the way it is generally sung, but hey you have to adapt for your audience a little bit. You have probably already guessed it from my title, but the song that I chose was the one that KTT sings, about the rabbit who seeks refuge in a cabin in the woods. So I am sure all of you can imagine how hilarious I found it to see twenty Indian school children singing that song, when it is normally being performed by KTT in all her overly expressive glory.

I spent at least an hour everyday teaching the kids that song, having added verses and a piano accompaniment. It was a difficult task, overcoming the language barrier and even more so, the collective attention span of twenty four-year-olds. But eventually they learned not only the words, but the actions that went with them. Sure the tune had been a little warped in the process, and it wasn't the original set of camp lyrics, but the kids were ready for the competition.

The competition itself took place in Aurangabad, which in and of itself was exciting for the kids- getting to take off from school and go into the big city. There were about 28 other schools there, which was a little daunting because we were an unknown group. This was the first time pre-primary kids from Golden Jubilee had ever gotten to compete in this sort of thing, so we were arriving as the nameless small town school among well-established big city names. The song wasn't the only GJS representative however- we also had kids reciting nursery rhymes, taking part in "fancy dress" competitions, and acting out a skit I had also been coaching. We were set for a full day of sizing up our competition, and eventually the surprisingly nerve wracking experience of our own performance.

When it was our turn to go, I actually experienced a swell of pride, akin to that of corny movies about teachers who fight all odds to help a group of students reach greatness. I'm certainly not that inspirational teacher, but I could at least start to understand what those movies, with their flowery language and profound quotes about the power of the human spirit, are meant to evoke. But as hyperbolic as it may seem, some of what those movies have to say is true. More than the satisfaction of seeing my tangible help in the school, I was just amazed at what the kids had achieved. Our turn came about halfway through the group of schools, and I can honestly say that I already knew at that point that we had done a fantastic job. It was clear that we had worked hard to achieve the quality that the kid's exhibited, and I must say that was a huge confidence booster in terms of my place at the school.

The next day the competition continued, though I had not had a part in those performances so I stayed back. But it was also the day that they announced the top three spots for each contest. I was at home at the time, and I got a call from one of the other teachers at the school. She told me that not only had both the song and skit that I had worked so hard on placed second, but that our little no-name school had gotten the runner up trophy in the entire competition. I felt so honoured to be able to contribute to the unexpected success. And I feel like this success has easily given me a more solid understanding of the role that I play at the school. Since then I have been bouncing between pre-primary classes, teaching songs, stories, and skits- overall just lending a helping hand to give kids the full practice and attention that they need. I am still amazed that my first real attempt at teaching went so well, and it has been very encouraging for the rest of my time here.

I have been trying to attach the video of the kids' performance, but my Internet is not being very cooperative. I will go ahead and post this, but keep trying with the video. So hopefully you will all get to see what a great job they did very soon!

My First Visit to Davalwadi Village

It seems a little silly that I have been here for over a month now, and had yet to visit the actual village of Davalwadi until very recently. Mahyco is right next to the village, so though we are not actually in it, that is what we consider to be our general location. Most of the time when I am leaving the gates of Mahyco it is to go to Jalna, or occasionally to Aurgabad; up until this weekend it had never been to go to Davalwadi. But for the past few days a group of students from Bombay has been here to help out with Dekhon (the eye-care project Ben has been working on), and one of the first things they got to do was plant some trees in the village.
True, there aren't so many links between blindness prevention and foliage, but it is hard to find things for 20+ seventeen year olds to do just as they arrive. So this way, they at least wouldn't be idle, and they would get a chance to become acquainted with rural India, a place that is almost as alien to them as it was me. We pulled into the village and immediately saw at least twenty children running towards the bus. They mostly play in a field that is right next to the road, so a lot of them were there to begin with, awaiting our arrival. We stepped off the bus and they formed a sort of shell around us, looking on with curious smiles but, at first, never getting too close.

One by one the students brought saplings out, to be planted along the perimeter of the very same field the kids had been playing in. By the time the trees were out, a good deal of the village had come over to watch. Like most rural villages in this area, most of the people in Davalwadi exclusively speak Marathi, the local dialect. Some that are more educated speak Hindi as well, and some of the children said they were learning to read and write in Hindi, but regardless communication could be a bit difficult for our group, who were mostly unfamiliar with the language.

As the planting continued, the kids remained with us, curiously looking on. At first they were extremely shy, but they warmed up quickly, particularly when I asked if I could take their picture and they got to see themselves on a little camera screen. After a while Barkha, a relative of Ben's who has come to help out with the project, and I decided it would be a good time to bring out some toys that we had brought for the kids. We led them over to another clearing near the bus, brought out two loads of old play things, and as I'm sure you can imagine the kids went nuts. After a good five minutes of chaos though, things settled down and everyone had found something they could be happy with.

I spent the remainder of that day playing with the kids and their new finds. Once again, I was amazed at how understand young children can be about language gaps. They were happy to show off their new toys to me, sometimes asking questions but never getting too frustrated when I couldn't give them an answer. More than anything they were just happy to be getting so much attention from a stranger, and eager to show off in any way they could imagine.

After a while, a girl came up to me with a stuffed frog, and began insistently asking me something in Marathi. I smiled at her and nodded my head (though in India that takes the form of more of a waggle) and pointed to her animal happily, but this did not stop her questioning. After a bit, a voice behind me declared in English that she wanted to know what it was, and if it made a sound. I was surprised, as this was the first time I had been spoken to in English today, so I turned around to see a young boy, who I at first took to be much younger than he is. I asked his name and he told me it was Shrikhan.

Shrikhan is fourteen years old, well under five feet tall, and already has a smattering of grey hairs popping up all around his head. I told him his English was very good (and the more he spoke to me the more I found this to be true) and I was curious where he had learned it. Shrikhan has been attending a school in Jalna starting with pre-primary school, where they are educated in Marathi, Hindi, and most of all English. He has lived in Davalwadi his entire life, but because it is such a strenuous school he stays in a hostel in Jalna during the week.

Shrikhan has a fantastic way of speaking, both in his impressive diction and the general feeling of warmth he exudes in conversation. I was amazed at how smooth and clear his accent was, it made him sound so comfortable with the language, almost native. He told me about what school was like in Jalna, and his dream of one day becoming a doctor. He would respond to each question I asked with a huge smile, nodding his head down and away from me, in a motion of honest pleasure and modesty. It seemed like no matter how standard the question, he was always delighted to be able to provide me the answer.
Our afternoon in the village ended with a tour of Davalwadi. All of the students headed off down the narrow streets, many of them bearing cameras with which they curiously clicked away. About half of the kids from the group followed along with us, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Davalwadi is a pretty well-off village. 700 people live in the village, yet it houses around 120 trucks, their main source of income. Most of the houses, though now all, were concrete and fairly new, and the village even had a complex system of converting waste into energy to power their homes.

The thing that really struck me about Davalwadi was how open and welcoming everyone had been. They were happy to have us there to offer our help, but more than that they were just pleased to have us there as their guests. I think Shrikhan summed it up best when I asked him about how he liked life in Davalwadi- "The whole village is a friend." As the bus headed out of town we were chased through the fields by the same group of kids that had first welcomed us into their home, as if that hospitality needed to be drawn out to the last possible moment. They yearned to show us their excitement because in that way, they were able to tell us that we would always be welcomed back.

Throughout this post you will find some more photos. The first is the original group of kids that met us, straight off the bus, along with myself there in the back. Then you have the group of students from Bombay, as well as some of the men from the village who had come to help. Next are a couple of pictures I took on our tour, as well as another picture two girls wanted me to take just before stepping on the bus. I am thinking of getting a flickr account, or something like that, so I can upload more photos. If I end up doing that I'll let everyone know in a coming post.

Kicking Off the Indian Holiday Season

I realize it has been a while since my last blog post, and while I probably could have scrounged up some time to do one earlier, the main reason for this is that my normal weekend writing time was spent traveling. We spent one day in Bombay, though mostly that was just passing through on our way to Ahmedabad, for the remainder of the long weekend. Ahmedabad is in western India, in the state of Gujrat. It is actually a really big city, not as much as Bombay in population, but very sprawling, which makes it feel more relaxed. In a lot of ways that actually made it feel slightly more western to me, since western cities do tend to be pretty spread out that way.

We went to Ahmedabad to stay with Ben's aunt for a while (Indian culture is really big on paying people visits) but the particular reason that we chose this time to go is that it was Navratri. Navratri is a 10 day celebration that leads up to Desshera, the day in honor of Ram killing Ravan. Basically it is an excuse to party for 10 days; there are huge celebrations where everyone dresses up in traditional clothes and dances for basically the entire night. And of course, I got to attend just such an event.

Ben's cousin lent me some traditional clothes to wear- a skirt, top, shawl, and lots and lots of heavy silver jewelry. The jewelery is particularly important, because the event is all about getting as dressed up as you possibly can, so you basically put on every piece of silver that you own. Plus you need the jewelry to make lots of jingling noises as you dance, probably one of my favourite things about the event in fact. Anyway, once you get all dressed up, the actual celebration begins. Technically the dancing is all part of a pooja, or worship. The particular pooja that happens during Navratri is called Garbha, and is best known for dances with dandiya, two wooden sticks that you hit together as you dance. The particular one that we went to didn't have any dandiya, but the dancing mostly followed the same patterns. The dances are made up of a lot of circles that kind of spontaneously pop up everywhere. The people in each group can do any specific steps that they like, and they tend to just cycle through a bunch of different things. As you can imagine, it is great for big groups of friends, who tend to go every night (often skipping school in the process.)

When I first got to the Garbha, it basically felt like something straight out of a Bollywood movie. Really those giant dance numbers are not as far fetched as I had originally believed, because I found myself right in the middle of the oranized chaos that is hundreds of dancing people. For the first little bit we stuck to the outsides, along with plenty of other people who just wanted to watch, or were simply resting. At the far end of the open area where the Garbha was held there was a stage with the live band; I would say there were close to twenty musicians who played nearly straight through the night, each night, for ten days. Very impressive.

After a while we started hopping in with the dancing, which was much harder than it looked. We didn't exactly have a teacher, so we just had to watch and repeat what we saw. The only problem is that the groups would move seamlessly from one type of dance to the next, so just when you are getting the hang of something, you get tossed a new set to learn. We danced for a bit, but I would say that for the most part I was happy simply watching and taking lots of pictures.

I had always known that India was a country of celebrations, but this was when I really started to understand the extent. When I first arrived the Ganesha celebration was raging, and just before that was the celebration of cows, in which all of them had their horns painted in bright colours. In a lot of ways though, Navratri signals one things- the coming of Diwali. When you look at the plethora of occasions that India celebrates, Diwali really sticks out as being one of the most important. So really all of the getting dressed up, nonstop partying, and family gatherings is just beginning.

I have included some pictures at the end of this post. The first one is of Ben and I in the traditional Garbha clothes, just before heading out. Then the next one is of the actual Garbha itself. It was nighttime and everyone was moving so it was tough to get good pictures, but it at least gives you an idea of the scope and just how dressed up everyone gets. I will upload a video or two soon as well, which I took of some of the dancers.

Food Challenge (Amelia, you should be proud)

I have always been a pretty competitive person, which for the most part is fine, when indulged at healthy levels. But since coming to India, one of the main ways that trait has exhibited itself is in my treatment of food. Perhaps I am getting a little ahead of myself though, so I'll just start by talking about the food in general. It is absolutely fantastic, though this is coming from a person who already had a pretty lengthy love affair with Indian food going on. Of course, the stuff you get in the States doesn't even compare, so naturally I was just overjoyed when I got here, and began my sampling adventure.
The Indian food that you find in the U.S. is almost exclusively North Indian food, so when I got here I was introduced to a lot of unfamiliar dishes. A traditional Maharashtrian meal will generally consist of a subzi (vegetable dish) or two, chapatis (flat breads), daal (lentil soup), and dahi (yoghurt). There is obviously a lot of variation from there, which is of course what I get so excited about, since I am not one to pass up any opportunity to try something new. I have also gotten to try South Indian and authentic North Indian food, both of which come with their own sets of tradition on which to build variety.

In coming to India there were two elements of the food that I was most excited about- chai and spice. This is where my competitive nature started to come into play, because for the most part it is assumed that I am unfamiliar with both of these things. I have been making my own chai for a while now, trying to get as close as possible to authentic flavours. Of course, it was nothing like the chai that you find here, but it at least gave me a taste for it, making me slightly more familiar with what I could expect. When I got here however, I received a lot of confused looks or surprised laughter when I said I was familiar with masala chai, and even enjoyed it. Even saying that I liked tea in general has earned me some strange looks, as it is assumed that foreigners don't enjoy the stuff, and should they have any it would be strictly black tea. So this little internal sound of protest goes off in me, eager to prove that I do indeed appreciate a good cup of tea.

My need to prove myself is even more apparent when it comes to spicy food, however. As a white visitor to India, it is almost always assumed that any fire should be strictly avoided in your food. But I have been adorning my meals with any peppers or hot sauce I can find for years now, so this obviously isn't the case. Try as I might to be reasonable, it becomes a bit of a challenge for me, when something at the table is dragged away in a well meaning protection of my taste buds. If a waiter suggests we order something else because it will be too hot for me, that is clearly what I must have. In fact, and I don't know if this is subconscious or not, I think I enjoy my food far more if I have just been told that it will be too spicy for me. I find myself full of smiles, makig all sorts of yummy noises, and of course there must be complete ostracism of that water glass. I haven't had anything yet that I found too spicy, but hopefully my need to prove my capabilities in the realm of spicy foods won't get me into trouble anytime soon. For now, I will just continue thoroughly enjoying every food adventure I am presented with.

First Experience at Golden Jubilee School

In my very first week in India, I began volunteering at Golden Jubilee School in Jalna. Just to give a bit of a geographic background, I am staying on the Mahyco research compound in a tiny town called Davalwadi. About a half an hour's drive away is Jalna, a considerably larger town of maybe 400,000 people. Then the largest city near us is Aurangabad, about an hour away and probably about a million people strong.

Anyway, to get to Golden Jubilee School there is a bus that goes directly from the colony into Jalna, as a lot of the kids from around here go to the school. GJS is a really good English medium school, which means slots there are often pretty sought after. The bus isn't your full-sized American school bus or anything, actually its size and shape kind of remind me of the sort of thing that might have followed the Grateful Dead around. Of course, the cheery yellow paint kind of throws that image off. On my very first day, I hopped onto the bus and was greeted by the fairly baffled expressions of ten school children, and the comforting instruction of two teachers who also rode the bus. There weren't really any introductions, my sudden appearance on the bus was just taken at face value. In days to come the kids would get much more bold with me, but for this first day I was welcomed with silent curiosity.
The first day was mainly spent getting acquainted with the school. I started off by observing a Lower Kindergarten class (in India school starts in LKG and then moves to Upper Kindergarten) since I expected I would be working mostly with the younger kids. Right away I was introduced to one of the main differences between the schools here and in the United States- the formality. Anytime I would walk into a room, all of the students would get up from their seats and say "Good morning ma'am" in a chorus of well-practiced respect. This greeting extends to simply passing people in the hallway, where just about every student I see must acknowledge me and refer to me as ma'am. It is a practice that they have all grown up with, but took some getting used to for me as I, a) grew up in an extremely casual schooling environment and b) at age seventeen am not really used to being referred to as ma'am. But eventually I grew accustomed to it, and in fact there is something quite nice about being greeted so many times throughout the day. Walking around the halls here, you never feel ignored or unwelcome.

After some time in LKG, I went to the Jubilee Kids room for the remainder of the day. This is the daycare program at the school, for kids ages three and up. For the first week in particular this is where I spent most of my time, and even now any spare time I get I try and spend with these kids. The main goal of Jubilee Kids is to develop language, because at this point they have only been speaking either Hindi or Marathi at home, but will need to speak English if they continue going to GJS. So it is more or less a complete immersion program, the teachers speaking almost exclusively in English through their daily lessons or stories. The kids have gotten pretty good at comprehension, but they haven't gotten to the point where they can speak it yet.

The reason that I keep going back to the Jubilee Kids in particular, is that more than the other classes I have been helping with, it gives me the opportunity to interact with the kids on a more personal level. A three year old doesn't get frustrated if you can't understand their language, because for the most part all it takes is a goofy face or a big smile for them to warm up to you. The kids are always excited to show off what they know, pointing out the letter J with pride, or announcing that the clown's nose is "red colour." The older kids are interested in me, since I am kind of a surprise to show up in their class one day, but I don't get that excitement and general warmth that I do from spending actual personal time with the younger kids. I will write more about some of the other things I have been doing, but no matter how much I bounce around with different tasks at GJS, I can't imagine a better place to have started than with those Jubilee Kids.

Diving In

I think the image of being thrown into a body of water and told to "sink or swim," has been widely unappreciated  and stamped with the demoralizing label of dead metaphor, when really only a small piece of its significance is being taken into account. True, it is often used in reference to swiftly adapting to a new situation, completely out of necessity, but I think some of the more interesting components of this metaphor are being overlooked. This method of swimming acclamation operates under the assumption that everyone has some sort of natural ability to adapt. Maybe it seems a little harsh, but there are plenty of successful classes built around the concept of throwing a newborn into a pool of water and letting them tap into the abilities nature has graced them with. And I think this is the part of the concept that people are overlooking- yes I have been tossed into a brand new situation, but the important part about that is some part of me is equipped with the natural tools to adapt, and those are the exact tools I have been exercising over the past two weeks.

I have never been the type of person who would prefer easing into situations. My comfort zone is not exactly treated with the care and delicacy it should perhaps be afforded. I much prefer sudden challenges; being presented with something big to deal with at my own pace, rather than being given little tid bits of change over a longer period of time. After all, you need a full context in order to properly understand any kind of differences, so that is exactly what I was looking for upon arrival in India.

My first full day in India was spent in Mumbai and was exactly what I was looking for- full cultural immersion, greatly from the role of observer, though not entirely. My day was not filled with your typical tourist obligations (though that is not to say I didn't visit the Gateway of India, for example), but rather I got to have a more day-to-day Mumbai experience. We had a task for the morning of running two pretty simple errands, both of which in Old Bombay. Old Bombay is the original heart of the city located on the main island, and New Bombay (Navi Mumbai) is a sea of suburban apartment complexes, houses, parks, the works.

Anyway, the first thing we had to do in the morning was pick up a transformer from an electronics store in what was so charmingly introduced to me as the "grey market" of Mumbai. We were searching for a tiny shop on Lamington Road, a road comprised almost exclusively of electronics shops. In Old Bombay areas are organized by what they sell, so you have lots of tiny shops that sell a couple of very specific things. Store owners find really cheap sources for one or two products so they will only sell those things, to ensure that you can always find whatever you are looking for at the lowest possible price. All of the stores that sell similar things are blocked together so that if one place doesn't have it, they can just give you the name of another store that might. This way everything is reasonably accessable and, most important of all, cheap.

It was in this first task that I encountered the sort of leisure that I noticed throughout the city, and in India in general for that matter. Bombay is a huge city so on the surface it appears to never be at rest- so many moving individual parts initially give it an overwhelming and hectic feel. But no single part is actually in any particular hurry to get things done. On the car ride over we passed people wandering from place to place, stopping to stand and enjoy a cup of chai, or just to have a conversation on the side of the road. When we got to the shop (after a considerable amount of confusion and stumbling through tiny streets in our search) we discovered that they didn't actually open until just before noon. It is simply understood that things are going to get done, so why rush around to get there?

After a stop at a store in a different area that sold almost exclusively pasta, cookies, and cheese (it isn't a guarentee that the specific items will have any semblance of a connection), we headed to Colaba for lunch. This is the area of the city that your average tourist would probably be spending time in, so I didn't receive quite as many qiuizical stares in response to my wandering about. We ate at a Chinese restaurant, where I was first exposed to the Indianization of various cuisines. I had never really thought about it, but since Americans tend to pull foreign foods in their own comfortable directions, it stands to reason that other countries do the same. So I got my first taste of an Indian rendition on ethnic food, and I must say it was pretty great. Probably truer to the actual flavours than Asian-American food, but the spice is gloriously cranked up.

That more or less concluded my day in Mumbai. There was a bit more wandering around, but for the most part the rest of the evening was fairly relaxed. All in all, I think it was exactly what I needed for my first day- glimpses of the types of things I had in store (though of course urban and rural India are two very different things) that allowed me to start building a basis of the cultural understanding I should always be looking for. It let me start to formulate questions and impressions that would act as a framework for the weeks to come.

Introduction

I should probably begin this blog with a brief explanation of the title- Saamne, the Hindi phrase for "in front." I had some trouble coming up with a title, so I started off by thinking about the themes of my experience here. Language was one of the first things that came to mind, as it is probably the most noticeable difference one is confronted with in any new country. So I began thinking about Hindi, or at least the little that I know of this brand new and seemingly impossibly complex language, and I remembered something Ben told me when I first started struggling though pronunciations. Unlike the choking, back-of-the-throat sounds of French, which I think the language component of my brain is tempted to default to, Hindi sounds should all come from the front of your mouth, very delicate, very fluid. In my clumsy western mouth the constant rolling tongue (or attempts at least) and puffs of air tend towards harshness, but when spoken well Hindi is meant to be very light, leaving nothing of its composition to hide.

While I have only been here for two weeks, I think this idea of keeping things in front has already cropped up a lot in my daily life. One of the first things I was warned about when I came here was not to expect privacy, and it is true, that is not a concept that exists the way we Westerners are used to it. It takes getting used to, but you don't lead two lives here, a public and a private one, rather everything is done in front of the public eye. There is this extreme openness that you would never find with the incredibly restrictive nature of Western social guidelines. There is no feeling of obligation to "entertain guests," because the idea that they are in "your space" doesn't exist. People drift from room to room, pop into conversations without hesitation, and speak their mind without second-guessing themselves. Much like the language, there is a perpetual fluidity to Indian social life.

In the last week or so, this phrase has taken on a third meaning for me, as I began volunteering at school. It is one thing to talk about it, but another entirely to experience the almost surreal feeling of standing in front of a class, speaking to a group of more than twenty Indian school children, who understand only a fraction of what you are saying to them. I have been working at Golden Jubilee School (oh yes, quite the feel good name) in Jalna, a town about thirty minutes from my home on the Mahyco compound. It is an English medium school, so I am not entirely out of place, but I have been spending most of my time with the younger kids, who haven't learned English yet. So here I am, a very strange center of attention for a group of kids that are only just now starting to catch on to my mantra of Samaj mein nahi ai, English bolthi. But to my delight this language barrier results in not dismissal, but the loving understanding that only a child could provide. They continue chattering away to me in Hindi, steadily feeding my mental list of vocabulary words, and occasionally pausing to point out with a glow of pride the words they know in my language.


So there you go, perhaps an unnecessarily cryptic title, but I think an apt representation of my three roles here- language student, social butterfly (or perhaps more of a caterpillar at this point), and teacher (once again, at this point perhaps more of a playmate/novelty). More blog posts to come soon I hope, I do have two very busy weeks to catch up on after all. And hopefully I will get some pictures up here soon too, as well as new background, believe me this one isn't permanent.