A Conclusion, of sorts

This is a post I have been putting off for a while now (about a week and a half to be exact) because while I have been writing snippets of it in my head since December, for the bulk of it I have no idea what to say. To me one of the most satisfying feelings in the world is phrasing something perfectly. That's probably why I whisper the same sentence over and over to myself when I'm writing, in order to make sure that it sounds exactly the way I want it to. Or the reason that while searching for a job this week, I found myself going over my introductions as I walked from store to store, repeating them under my breath with just the right ordering of words. So if I can get that invested in one sentence spoken to a store manager I've never met before, it should go without saying that how I summarize one of the most significant five months of my life is going to sort of be a big deal. But at a certain point I just have to face the fact that I need to say something, so I will do my best to make it convey the things that I actually want.

I guess the thing that finally pushed me over the edge into writing this was a visit I made to my sister's school today. My sister is in first grade, and her teacher asked me to come into the class and talk about my time in India. So I put together a little presentation with some pictures I had taken, and put on my new salwar kameez, which the teachers at school gave me as a going away present. The second I got into the classroom I was immediately struck with a feeling that I never expected to have towards a place that I was supposedly just "visiting"- home sickness. The kids faces lit up just like my kindergartners' had at GJS, some of them rushed up to tell me something of the utmost importance, and just like I had been the centre of attention in India for being so different, once again all of the kids were looking at me like some new cultural anomaly. I sat down and launched immediately into explaining what I had been doing there- going through my pictures and explaining the various clothes and different customs. I was surprised by just how receptive these six and seven year olds were to me blabbering on about some place they all knew next to nothing about. They would raise their hands and ask questions about photographs, pointing out details that had become so familiar to me I wouldn't have even thought to make a note of them.

But the point in the presentation that really made me miss India, more so even than the pictures of all the school kids that I miss so much, was when one little boy raised his hand and asked a questions starting with, "where you are from." He said it with such nonchalance, and though I had explained that I had been there for only five months, to him that was easily enough to be considered "from somewhere." Maybe it was the way I had talked about it, or the way I was dressed, or perhaps I am just over analyzing the speech of a six year old, but to me it felt like he had really nailed it. I wasn't talking about India the way I might mention something I had observed while traveling in Europe. I was speaking with the pride of someone who has a genuine investment in that place.

When I first went to India I didn't expect it to be anything more than a lengthy visit. But there is no doubt in my mind that India became a home to me. I think the major difference between visiting a place and living in it is that when you visit somewhere you simply learn about it, through observation and experience. But when you have lived in a place you actually incorporate that place into who you are. Each time I am asked about my experience in India I think so hard about what I am going to say, because I want desperately to show why I have chosen this place as one that is worth loving. So while I am back in the United States, my relationship with India is in no way over. Each time I am asked to recount what it was like, or I find myself cooking a pot of dal and subji, or I open my closet to find it filled with kurtas, I will be reminded just why India is so important to me. I am never going to stop telling this story because I never want to let myself forget the place that despite every apparent difference, welcomed me with love and open arms.

An Eastern Education

One of the things that I have enjoyed the most about spending time at Golden Jubilee School, is that it's has given me the opportunity to look at some major differences between the Eastern and Western styles of education. I came into the experience knowing that there would be key differences, in particular I thought back to my Japanese teacher describing the rigours of an Asian education system. Though there are of course, some similarities which may be universal for effective teaching, in general I have been amazed at some key deviations from what I grew up with.

One of the major differences between your average American school and an Indian education is the rigour. Starting at an extremely young age, education is taken very seriously. That is not to say American schools aren't doing their job properly, I think it is just two different approaches to encouraging kids to learn. From the very beginning, kids are expected to handle huge amounts of work, both inside and outside of school. While I remember an elementary school experience characterised by little games and being read stories, the kids at GJS are expected to pay attention through full academic lessons, with far fewer breaks throughout the day. And starting at the very beginning of elementary school, they are assigned homework, given examinations, and even graded. I remember getting grades as the big leap when I entered sixth grade, not first.

Another key difference is in the style of teaching itself. It feels as though the kids are expected to follow a ceaseless routine of memorization, something I never experienced as a child. I have started attending different grades of English classes, just out of my own curiosity, and without fail they begin each class with at least five minutes of nonstop repetition of various grammar rules, vocabulary words, or reading tips. Even with the Jubilee Kids, the children are given a lesson at the beginning of each day, which involves repeating everything the teacher says over and over again. Particularly for the younger kids, these call backs are simply to get them used to the sounds of English, and get them speaking it as much as possible. But it is also done in the hope that if repeated enough times, some of the vocabulary will eventually stick. This rote memorization continues through to the older classes as well, where they are expected to study and remember countless facts.

Then there is the difference in formality, which is initially one of the most noticeable things. I grew up with very relaxed schools, where it wouldn't even be unusual to call my teacher by their first name. But here, it is important from the very beginning that the children learn a sense of respect and formality with their teachers, and all those older than them. Teachers must always be referred to as sir or ma'am, and should be properly greeted each time you see them. The kids also need to ask permission for about everything they do, be it entering a classroom, sitting down, or taking a drink of water. This last bit seemed strange to me at first, as the kids would be carrying their water bottles with them, but still feel the need to ask before taking a sip. But it is all about a rigid rule which must always apply, to maintain perpetual discipline.

A while ago I asked to sit in on a tenth grade English class, because I was interested to see how this class in particular would be taught differently. As Golden Jubilee is a English medium school, the kids have been speaking English for a long time. But still, this is more or less the equivalent of a foreign language class for them, so it won't be exactly like your average American English class. The first thing that surprised me was that they never read full books. I remember starting in third grade or so, we would read novels and answer questions about what we read. But instead they have a course book with short stories and other activities, but never full books. The lesson itself was predominately concerned with comprehension- discussing the action of the story to learn valuable vocabulary and sentence structure. Towards the end they did start to talk a little bit about the tone of the story, but when I asked the teacher whether they ever discussed things like themes he told me that had been mostly revised out of the state-wide syllabus. But he did seem to agree that discussing the deeper meanings of stories were important, because he tried to work that into his lesson plan as well. But it does seem to me, that for the most part, analyzing writing the way I have been taught to from a young age, is not nearly as developed.

I think that is really the overarching difference actually- analysis vs. the acquiring of knowledge. In India you pour your effort into learning facts upon facts. Whereas in my American school I think the main things I was taught were processes like critical thinking and analysis. I think that is the best way to summarise the two systems actually. It's not really my place to pass judgement on which is a better system, but I will say that both produce uniquely successful individuals.

Wrapping things up in Delhi

Our third day of the trip began with a very early morning. Agra, the sight of the Taj Mahal among other things, is about a four hour drive from Delhi. We had no intentions of driving back in the dark, which renders the already pockmarked roads nearly impossible, so this was our only option. After an hour or two of uncomfortable sleep, I awoke to stare out the window at rural Indian scenery. Delhi is known for being foggy, both from natural and very unnatural sources, and the same is true outside the city. I have always loved a good car ride, and this was no different, as we found ourselves right in the middle of foggy fields and an Indian sunrise.

A few hours into the journey however, as we were approaching the border into Uttar Pradesh, a cop standing on the side of the road waved us over. He walked up to the window, and I heard him ask the driver for his papers. They walked around the side of the car, the driver carrying his file of information and clearly smirking. Carefully the cop leafed through the folder, as Usha got out of the car, folded her arms, and looked on. After minutes of deliberation, out of which all I could make out was the word pollution, the driver pulls out his wallet, hands over a few bills, and gets back in the car. Turns out we were being fined for "car pollution" because it was an older model Mercedes. But really the most important thing about about our car was the latter bit of information- he saw an expensive car and jumped at the opportunity to pad his pocket a little bit. Corruption is definitely an issue in India, a very prominent one in politics and legislation right now actually, and this just happened to be my first personal experience with it.

Finally we arrived at the Taj, as evidenced by the sudden onslaught of people, both tourists and peddlers of trinkets. We got out of the car and first looked for an official guide. You have to be careful because there are both official guides and people who just show up and charge less, but probably aren't too reliable. Once we got our guide we made out way up the hill that led to the Taj. The area surrounding the Taj Mahal is a pollution free zone, in order to preserve the building, so you can't actually drive up to it. So either you walk, take a little electric car, or take one of the camel carts which are all around the parking lot. After about fifteen minutes we got to the top, and our tour began.

This is the most grand of the four gates to the Taj.

The first thing that we saw was the main gate. The gate was absolutely appropriate for the structure it opened up to, because in and of itself it was quite impressive. It was made of red sandstone (a classic it seems, of architecture from this time) with white marble and precious stones for details. At the top there are twenty-two little domes, with gold at the top, which represent the twenty-two years it took to build the Taj Mahal. I was actually a little skeptical when the guide told us this, because it seemed almost impossible to me that something so huge and yet endlessly intricate could be finished so quickly. As I wouldn't want to publish anything factually problematic on here I checked it out, and every word of it was true. Of course, the reasoning behind this speedy construction was all around the gate, where we saw innumerable worker housing developments. Apparently the entire construction required 20,000 people (though probably not at the same time), all of whom lived on site.

Our whole group in front of the Taj!

Once we had gotten our fill of the gate, we were ready for it to serve its purpose. One of the most important aspects of the Taj Mahal is its perfect symmetry. They built a mosque on one side, so obviously they had to build a second one on the other side. So the gate was built with an archway perfectly in the centre of the Taj. As you pass through the arch, you slowly see that iconic structure getting bigger before you, fleshing out on either side until you can finally take in the entire grounds for what they are. The Taj Mahal is set behind a huge lawn, complete with fountains and gardens on the sides. Then at each corner there are the four minarets, and to each side the two mosques. Before we could go any further, that first sight begged for us to stop and soak it all in.

The details on the front entrance to the Taj.

After some picture taking (of course) we made our way up to the structure. The closer we got the more intricate the building became. The flowers, made of precious stones, and writings from the Qua'ran, began to pop out from the front of the building. By the time we reached the base of the Taj, I was completely in awe. Not only had they managed to carve such intricate designs out of stones like marble, but they had actually scaled it so that the writing at the very top, when seen from below, appeared to be the same size as the writing below. Once we had taken it in, at least as much as is possible with something so impressive, we went in.

The mosque just to the side of the Taj.

Unfortunately you aren't allowed to take any pictures inside the Taj, but even without documentation it was really fantastic. Right in the centre was the tomb, which was surrounded by a mesh wall carved from marble. All of the walls were covered in writings from the Qua'ran, from floor to ceiling, and where they ended the dome began. It is one things to see the dome from the outside, but from the inside you can really take in the scale. Though it was dark in there (only natural light from the ground level windows) it was clear that we were in something truly significant. From the centre we walked around the sides, where there were other tombs, besides that of Shah Jahan's (Mughal Emperor) wife. Finally we wandered out to the side, where we got a great view of one of the mosques, as well as the surrounding area.

One of the main buildings in the fort.

Next we drove to Agra Fort, which was actually home to most of the Mughal Emperors. The fort is mainly known however, as the site of Shah Jahan's imprisonment. At some point during the construction of the Taj Mahal, Shah Jahan's son captured him and took him to the fort, so that he could take control of the empire. There Shah Jahan lived out the rest of his life, in a room with only a tiny window that looked out on the Taj Mahal, a reminder of everything that had been taken from him. Indian succession is full of stories like this; family murder and imprisonment were a pretty common path to the thrown. Anyway, we walked around the fort for a while, though really at this point I was sort of in a sightseeing haze. Everything we had seen that day was so impressive, it was like my brain was completely saturated with monuments I could barely fit anymore. But none the less, I could easily see why generations of rulers would have wanted this as their home.

Once we had finished at the fort we began the long journey back to the city. We hadn't really eaten yet that day, but we had a dinner reservation to catch so we didn't exactly have time to stop for lunch. We grabbed a few snacks from a shop on the side of the road and just kept going, trying to finish up that lengthy car ride as quickly as possible. Though riddled with mild carsickness, horrible traffic, and crushing boredom, our car ride did eventually come to an end, and we found ourselves at a place called Bukhara. Bukhara was recently proclaimed the best Indian restaurant in the world (by whom I am not entirely sure) and is known for completely shunning silverware. If eating with your hands just doesn't suit you, and you should happen to ask for a fork or spoon, you will (reportedly) be lectured on the vileness of silverware, which taints the purity of their lovingly prepared food. But after a busy day without a substantial meal, we had no problem diving straight in and thoroughly enjoying our rich Bukhara meal.

The next day would be our last in Delhi, and was more or less a short and relaxed end to the trip. We woke up pretty late, started the morning slowly, and after checking out of the hotel decided to wander around a bit in the market. This time the full market, rather than just the street stalls, was open, so we got to see a lot more. We went to another scarf and shawl shop, where we got a few cheaper items than our first stop. We also stopped at a big spice and nut store, to get fresh whole spices for really cheap. By the time we were done with shopping it was time for a quick lunch. We went to a great south Indian restaurant, so my Mom and Mike could get a taste of a different variety of Indian food. Once we had finished we had about twenty minutes before we had to leave, so we headed just down the block to Nehru's house. His house has been turned into an Independence museum, so we quickly looked around before hopping back in the car.

That about finished our time in Delhi. As is generally the case, we had to stop off at a friend's house for chai before going to the airport, but soon we were off and back to Aurangabad. It was quite the trip, I can definitely see why it is one of the must-do's on a list for Indian vacationers. But upon arriving back in Aurangabad, I was definitely sure that Delhi felt more like a place to visit than anything more. While we had seen a lot of fantastic sights there, it didn't feel nearly as much like a place where you could actually live. It was almost saturated with government and history, whereas places like Aurangabad and Bombay simply feel full of life. All in all, I had a fantastic time on our trip, but I was very happy to be home.

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.