who do you think you're changing?

Bear with the blog for a little - logistics are an issue. Will fix soon.

I spent my time wisely this weekend.
In other words, I had some of my much sought after Indian adventures.
I have the constant fear of not getting what I want out of India. I am so afraid that things are going to pass me by. While I am afraid of not getting what I want out of India, I have realized that I am just as afraid of letting go of what I know, of things that I know work for me.
I am afraid, and fear is not a good friend, that as a future anthropologist, I will do a horrible job.
My body has always been a huge part of everything I do, and I have realized that my body is much more important to me than maybe it is to most others, who are free to go to India or anywhere else without thought to what is going in their body, the amount of exercise they are getting, etc.
What kind of anthropologist can't let go of their own selfish needs such as maintaining a healthy body for the sake of their art, study, passion?



It certainly gets tedious repeating the things that happen in a day, but here it is:


Yesterday I went to an elementary school and played with some children that go to a school with 2 rooms, but when we got there they were having class on the roof. These children were adorable and were just as eager to learn about us as we were ready to learn everything we could about them. We played the Name Game, where we asked to stand in a circle and say their name with a movement (which is an "action" in India... they don't understand the word movement. Needless to say, as a dancer, referring to everything as an "action" is a little painful, but totally worth it) so we could remember their names by the repetition of going around the circle and saying names that are associated with certain actions. They loved it, and really got into making their own movements and pronouncing their names veryyy slowly for us. These kids are bright - very bright. They are learning English and many of them speak Telegu and catch on very quickly. I hope that they all progress and get to spend time in this school so they can grow up and live healthy, intelligent, curious lives where they are constantly aware and in amazement of the big beautiful world that they are a part of.
I hope I can be a small part of their growth.
I'm confused about the lack of structure in the literacy program... the director basically told us we can do whatever we want. But I want what happens to stick with the children... where does "teaching" begin? Can we focus our meetings with the kids on certain topics, even when we know that they will not be followed up on? Should we even try? Are we doomed to be the arts and crafts program where we "teach" them to make popsicle stick men?
Is it bad that I am almost inclined to stay with fundraising, to concentrate on getting their art projects recognition in the states and other places that can help fund these children, their schools, their teachers rather than working in the schools with the kids?
What is my role with these children for the time I have with them? Nobody can tell me where I am needed the most.
I'm very excited to go back, even when I know that I am just going to leave them in 3 months and won't have much chance to keep track of how their lives are going.

In addition to children in need of help, I had a few moments this weekend when I thought about a small family of puppies I found under a table near the train station, attempting to feed from their mal-nourished mother, and I just couldn't stop the sadness and the tears. The moments between elation of hearing beautiful children's voices repeating names and asking intuitive questions and wanting to collapse in tears in the middle of a busy street better meant for powerful Frogger players than weeping girls is all in a day's experiences in India.
There are so many times when it occurs to me that there is absolutely nothing I can do. The puppy that was left by itself, secluded from the others, eyes still closed, unable to turn onto its stomach is imprinted in my mind. It doesn't matter how times I see puppies and kittens that have led happy healthy lives flash by in mind, I couldn't help this one. What could I do but prolong this runt's tortuous existence by offering it some type of assistance? Walking away from impossibly sad situations is the bane of my existence. Every single time, it doesn't matter how many times I view a man with elephantiasis sitting on the ground, unable to stand, a child with burns down one side of his body and only one arm holding out a bowl for money, or a blind man weaving between autos and bikes, or a child grabs my arm and sometimes only asks for 1 chocolate, or even a small animal that has barely enough life to know that life hurts - it does not matter.
My heart suffers greatly everyday here in India.

And then there are the moments, like this weekend, where I am sitting on the floor with 2 friends and brand new friends from Palestine and Yemen eating biryani they made in a pot on their dorm floor and eating with my fingers, learning stories of these men and their families back home, their histories and their current aspirations. I got to do a 3 person moped ride through campus, only to end up lying on big rocks with the same people drinking delicious tea they made. That I had to leave early because another friend is a Couch Surfer and wanted to meet fellow Hyderabadi Couch Surfers in the Old City.
Experiences like finding the correct bus route and being able to hail your own auto are big happy accomplishments that are so meaningful for me, because I'm learning. I am here, and I am living, and I learning all of the time.

These are beyond suffering through lack of bargaining or learning to avoid papparazzi - I can't think of another time when it would be perfectly suitable to sit around eating with my fingers on the floor of a dorm, sharing stories and then leaving it to go meet people who are so intent they are traveling, they will take the couch if you offer it, as long as they move across the world and experience everything they can.
I hope when I come back from India, I have left all of my fears in India.

I wanted to tell someone that I have struggled with what Truth is and I have thought about it enough to simply say that everything is the Truth. There is no need for anyone to tell you what the Truth is, or where to find it.
I look at the truth everyday, and what I never knew is that I always have. There is no lying in anything in the world, because that is how it is at the moment you look at it, and that is what it will be for whoever happens upon it. The truth is the world, and it is completely open and free and this is how the world is. This is it.
Truth is relative to where you are standing on it.

The Lovely Bones

Sometimes I turn my headphones up so loud that I can't even hear myself think.


I spent a little bit of time today musing about what it takes for things to heal. I learned today that turmeric, a popular Indian spice that is bright yellow and gives mustard its color, can heal just about anything.
I can appreciate that.
If Indians get injured, they rub turmeric on their injury, wrap it up, and it magically heals days quicker than it normally would.
I wish they had a turmeric for all kinds of healing that needs to be done.

Imagine all of the things that need to be healed. Not fixed. Healed.
Healing is holistic process. Healing is done from top to bottom and doesn't leave a single harmful thing untouched, unhealed.

Can everything and anything be healed? Where does it go, the hurt? And what happens once it is gone?
Does it end up in a book or a blog? Is it cooked in with chicken biryiani and eaten by a family of 8? Does it go ride a pony to a pond full of egrets that follow buffalo around to observe their symbiotic relationship? Does it disappear like the scarf of a woman in a convertible? What if it ended up in your sick day tomato soup bowl, and stared back at you, dip after dip that cannot ruin its image? What would you do when you found someone else's hurt floating around next to your saltines?
Or does it fly around like a kite, released 20 more feet by its unwilling owner, who wants to let go of the pain, but needs it around as a reminder of things that have happened? And what happens if it snaps by accident and then it is gone and there is nothing to be done but let the hurt go away?
how many people letting go of hurt kites at the same time does it take to make all of the pain and hurt go away?
when do you know that it is just time to let go, instead of fight to keep it around and know that it won't leave you forever, it just won't hurt as much?


I never came to a conclusion.


Today, this made me happy:

A care package from my family, full of my favorite things. And a newspaper dated January 6! Today is the 29th!

 

TWO boxes of delicious Wheat Thins, a ginormo tub of peanut butter, a computer/camera cord, a newspaper, raisins, and my favorite Nature Valley bars. 

With every up there is a down. 

Today, this made me unhappy:

a bug attack

 

it ate me for supper

Traveling the Bay of Bengal, entry 2

I've decided that writing about what happened then is not nearly as interesting as what is happening now, and my current thoughts and ideas and explorations. Especially since this trip was a week ago, tonight. I remember when I used to blog, during my stream-of-consciousness phase, and how easy that was to just think and write and not worry about how things are said or what is said or when.

But, I'll be a trooper and highlight some more of the best moments instead of trying to recall the whole thing, in a way that would not do it justice anyways.

Also, so I don't get behind on what is happening in the Now

I dropped my Caste in Modern India class in favor on Yoga: Theory and Practice.
I had a sudden realization that I was in India... and then I had the thought, "Allyn, are you taking advantage of all the Indian things you originally wanted to do? Where's your tabla drum? Why are you stomping around in a dance class? Why aren't you full of calm and inner peace from constant yoga meditation? Why don't you know everything about Hinduism yet!?"
So, I dropped the class that I wasn't getting any helpful credits from yet was going to end up doing too much too much work for anyway in favor of yoga/sanity/self-indulgence.
Yoga was cancelled this morning. Not much of a surprise, this is India, also known as vacation, despite what Study Abroad officers want you to think.
I also stole a book from the common room - The Essence of Hinduism.
I am on the way to taking advantage of what India has to offer.
I just need to buy a tabla drum, and get in more dance classes.
I only have 3 more months left!!!!!!!
Using our copious amounts of free time wisely, Riane and I went for a walk.
A 3 hour walk.
3 hour walks allow you to get a lot of talking about a lot of different things done. I'm glad I have Riane to walk with me, because we talk about awesome things and laugh a lot too. but it makes me miss my walking partners at home.
Mom, Dad, you hear that? I miss you.
We talked about sneezes and Dad, I told her the story of the time you made the girls in Walmart jump 10 feet high. I told her that you, Mom, sneeze 87 times in a row. Her dad does the same thing! Just... more manly.

Today was also the day the government was supposed to make some decision about Telangana, although I don't know what the decision was about. I don't think it was clearance to form Telangana... waking up tomorrow I should know more details. Like if I can't get off of campus for my cooking class I have at 10 a.m.
Tomorrow is also when I finally get my package that I have been anxiously waiting for the last 3 weeks that my parents packed and sent me!

Now, I just finished off a thing of peanut butter. I have stolen several spoons from the cafeteria to eat this peanut butter and I think that is why the main guy, Pradeep, never offers me seconds like he offers absolutely everyone else. Today he asked my entire table and just walked past me. When I found bones in my dosa, I asked for a plain cheese dosa. He brought is back with a slam.
The cake the Riane, my partner in crime and therefore is my protector in this case, gave me obviously did not warm them to me any. It is ok, Ganesh, the tiny waiter, is always happy to see me.

A few highlights from our weekend trip:

Our 6:50 am train to Araku was packed. In fact, we were almost pushed onto the railroad tracks by swarming people all shoving to get a place on this train. Mainly, we were pushed by a pack of young students that laughed at our names (laughter we did not return when we heard their names) and asked us what village we were from.
We finally got onto this train that is considered to be one of the most beautiful train rides in India.
We were waitlisted - there were no seats on this train so we stood next to the MSH - the magic shit hallway, where people get on the train just to use the bathroom and then come out and leave us with this wonderful smell of gross India. Strangely enough, MSH was right next to the open door of the moving train and it was the best seat in the house (and was going to be our seat for the next 6 hours) until a man came up to us and told us he had a seat for 3 people! We found ourselves smushed together on a seat for one with a man taking up our previous spot at the great door of beauty.
Anyways, it was glorious. This single seat with three people that had been denied any seats among 7 cars of this train was on the good side of the train ride.
People were trying to climb over us to see. 

We were standing in the MSH looking at all the seats.

 

Too damn cute, both the banana and the Riane. It's a baby banana we bought in a bunch from a lady through the window slits of the train.

We got to Araku Valley, got food and our toursity hotel on a hill overlooking all of these hills and crops:

We set off on foot and ended up in several places:

 

playing with ponies

on a road through an "untouched" village

 

 behind a cow on a shortcut through a crop field (I was the last one to go and by this time the cow was really truly blocking the narrow path through water logged crop squares that went on foreverrr)

walking through veggie town

in the midst of several photo shoots where the kids gave Riane kisses on the cheek (she was touched by these tender moments, I was not offered any tender moments. I will blame the hostility on having a fancy camera I do let not children play with like Riane does, and on being sick.)

We went back to the hotel, ate, and I shivered my sick self to sleep by 10.

We woke up the next day for a 3 hour, high speed, nauseating, random stoppage to a coffee plantation and an overlook, Michael Jackson (who is absolutely everywhere) filled car ride to Borra Caves and back to Visakhapatnam where we ate a 5 star hotel and got penne pasta and brownies while overlooking the Bay of Bengal from a beautiful balcony. We decided we were getting tired and deserved these luxuries that cost me about $10 dollars. India is cheap sometimes (but we didn't sleep at this hotel - we just got up early the next day and ate breakfast there...)

This is also the dinner Nathan declared himself as a Communist and Riane and I began rethinking our traveling plans and companions for the future.

I do need to admit here, that by this time, I was leaving Riane to deal with crap like that on her own as I had already fussed at Nathan, who is a philosophy major and has to have incredibly deep talks about everything and has this habit of talking for 10 minutes and then asking, "Right?" with a head nod but without leaving you much option but to agree. So I was tired of this, and I was zoning out and he did not like that, so with a head nod (think a "3 snaps i-don't-think-so head nod/twist) and a "Right?" he tried to force me to listen and I was not going to have it. So I told him to not ask me "Right?" anymore, it annoyed me because it forced me to listen and it forced me to agree and I didn't want to do either of those. Awkward for a moment, but I think it passed when I fell asleep during his explanation of why he does both the head nod and the "right?"

- Sidenote: I am feeling much better now. I can eat, stand up, and have a laugh. I have not gotten over my annoyance with Nathan who has now told us that he does things purposefully to make people mad at him because he thinks it is funny, he performs experiments on people, he is a communist, he says "Right?" for the dual purpose of 1.) making people listen to him, 2.) give a response that he can shoot down and he was apathetic the entire trip without making any sort of decision whatsoever. He didn't even bother to know the name of the places we were going to visit this weekend.

I hate apathy.

Anyways, the pictures:

coffee plantation on a hill

Borra Caves - "Do not proceed on this adventure without a guide!"

But we braved the staircases and did it ourselves. I don't have any decent pictures of the inside, it was too dark.

Wasn't what we expected and had geared ourselves up for, but it is still amazing to see a huge natural crater/cave within the ground that goes on forever and is the home to who knows what.

Outside Borra Caves - This is the last picture of the trip I have.

I was tired.

We decided when we woke up the next morning that it was time to go home, despite the plans and trains we had for the next 2 days. So we rode our train (that we slept during the whole trip) to Vijaywada, ate at another 5 star hotel and got pizza this time, and booked ourselves a bus ride home for that night.

Got to UofH at 2 in the morning and took Tuesday (a holiday) to recover.

Up to date.

Good.

exploring the Bay of Bengal, entry 1

Today, Riane Menardi turned 20 years old. We took her for mexican and we loved it. They gave her a free chocolate cake with a sparkler on top that about singed her eyebrows off that she shared with all of us and it was delicious.

So, this is a record of my traveling weekend along the Bay of Bengal. It will consist of several long posts. You don't have to read, but it was a pretty sweet weekend. At least check out the pictures. They are from India!!

Also, I feel the need to begin this post with this warning:
I started off sick, and I was still sick 4 days later on the early bus home. Fever, chills, splitting headaches and constant sharp jabs in the stomach are not pleasurable traveling companions, and made me an unfavorable candidate for traveling. Thus, not all of my descriptions will do the things and people we saw justice.
But, our trip was a beautiful trip, and I can only apologize for being such a lousy traveling companion after we worked so hard getting this fabulous trip together.


Our journey started here, on a 13 hr overnight trip to Visakhapatnam.

I am on the top bunk, directly across from me was where Riane was sleeping, and perpendicular to us, across the aisle, was where Nathan was. Beneath me were 2 bunks holding men.

Imagine trying to crawl down 3 bunks on a dark, lurching, speeding train and finding your way to the bathroom that when you open the lid, really announces with the extreme rush of cold air, that your toilet is the railroad tracks. That being said, trains are awesome. Trains are stressful. But trains take you to all of the places you would never see otherwise, and locals get just as excited as we were to see some of the sights from the train windows.

Trains also suck. Trains are grungy. And they have men going up and down the aisles, "Chaiiiiii, coffeeee chaiiii..." at ungodly hours. 

Visakhapatnam is a coastal town - it is humid. First thing upon waking up after a wild ride on the top bunk of a speeding bullet, I look over at Riane. Strangely enough, there was a Chia pet in her place!! This picture does not do it any justice. Her morning (and the morning of everyone in our section of the train) probably started off horribly because I just laughed - hard, body shaking, heaving laughter - at her for a good 15 minutes. It started my morning off quite nicely however.

 

 

We got off in sunny Visakhapatnam and decided to find ourselves a hotel - we found ourselves at the Hotel Syamala Paradise. After examining our 1 room-3 bed-sink/shower/toilet bathroom, we took off. And here is what we found:

A mountain, Kailisakiri, with stairs all the way up to the top. This was not an easy climb. We felt out of place, too, because apparently the thing to do is to take your date (who is in mini heels and a saree) out in the middle of the day to climb these stairs to the top of the mountain where you find these things:

A pretty swell view

Friends that hide under mushrooms

and face trashcans

 

And Shiva and Partavi

There were other weird sculptures, like snails and huge people, but then it ended up being this huge popular park on top of this mountain overlooking the city with grassy areas and a train that went around the whole park. We also found shrines and abandoned meditation spots that we immediately took over and rested and ate a rescue Fruit by the Foot.

We also found people. Everywhere, we found people - and we especially found people that wanted to take our pictures and take pictures with us all together, individually, etc. Riane and I joke about the need to start special albums of people the 1.) want to take pictures with us, 2.) people want their picture taken ("one snap! one snap!" which turns into 7543798 snaps)

Then we traveled back down the staircase. Harder. Much harder. Powered up the staircase. Then spent the day in stifling heat. Going down the never-ending staircase was a slower, shakier, less sure venture. reaching the bottom and seeing the beautiful beach ahead of us was a welcome site.

So we crossed the street to it.

Please understand, I act as if we just happen upon all of these places.

But India is not easily navigable, and it is full of people who will 1.) ask if you want a ride in their overpriced rickshaw, 2.) run over you

you do not travel easily, in peace, or by yourself.

So yea, ok. the beach actually was directly across from the mountain, so all we did was cross the street. But that was the easiest time we have ever had getting there.

The first thing we encountered was a girl attempting to pee behind a wall. It should have been a hint.

We had not hit the public beach. We were on the empty, private beach and navigating our way around piles of human feces.

But this beach, it was the Bay of Bengal. And who ever thought I was going to be walking the sands of the Bay of Bengal? I kinda thought I was dreaming, so I took some glamour shots to document that this incredibly surreal moment of being in India at the foot of the mountains walking in the Bay of Bengal was indeed happening to me, Allyn Wong.

And then we met people. Beautiful people, full of smiles and laughter, living their lives in little houses on the side of the beach. Men, women, children, they all lined the beach. Children were flying kites, men were moving boats in the water by shoulder bamboo holds, and women watched.

 

 

Everyone loves to have their photo taken. And it is fun, taking pictures of people and showing it to them. The children love to see themselves on the display screen, and it makes me happy to see them so happy. Who knows how often they see 3 white Americans walking down the beach with no shoes, in awe of their surroundings with cameras that are made just for the sole purpose of taking pictures and documenting unreal moments. Like children in a fishing village standing on a boat on the coast of the Bay of Bengal.

Children are the most fun to take pictures of, because it isn't just the pictures they care about. They want to know your name, and where you are from. They ask if you can speak their language, Telegu, which we can't, and so they step up to the challenge and speak to us in a foreign tongue, English. Makes me feel pretty inferior to 10 years old in a foreign country that are bilingual, when I am the one from the easily more equipped country with more opportunities to learn foreign languages, yet I speak no other language than English. It is true what most countries say about American foreigners - we don't know anything about where we are going, and we are appalled when they don't speak English. But they can. We are the ones that have forgotten we live in a truly global, interconnected world and we don't know any other language without intense training, because it will "look good on our resume" and possibly be a good asset to our career. But not crucial. So global learning takes a backseat. Sad.

The man next to Riane was very nice. When we got lost on the smelly, incredibly trashy part of the beach, he found us and invited us not only to travel through his little community, but into his home to meet his family, his pets, and to have a cup of coffee.

Talking to strangers does a great many things: it makes you suspicious of their intentions after everything you hear about talking to strangers, it introduces you to a world of things, it opens doors and it opens your eyes.

In his house, a modest house packed in among other modest dwellings but with a stunning roof view of the ocean, we found a beautiful wife, a red chick named Jumpy, 2 beautiful tennis stars of daughters, their family puja (shrine type setup) and a mother in law that taught Telegu. We found wonderful hospitality - coffee, stories of tennis games and being a national boxing champion, explanations of names, traditional Hindi, and friends.

 

(This eventually pooped on Nathan. Riane and I both found this hilarious. Nathan did not. I suppose rightfully so. Avian flu had its time.)

 

 We exchanged emails and addresses so we could send them a letter of our appreciation at their wonderful, far too generous hospitality and said our goodbyes. We will see this family again soon - they travel to Hyderabad fairly often for the girls' tennis nationals. They will be here in early Febuary.

We took off by rickshaw again, another stressful experience. I was screaming at a man at one point this weekend. He didn't seem to understand my years of experience and perfectly practiced, "No." After I turned on him and in his face yelled, "No. We do not want your rickshaw. Go away." did he actually step back and leave us alone. Riane tries to negotiate. If they don't agree, I walk away and take patient Riane with me. If they follow, she just repeats that no, we will find a cheaper driver. I ignore. Then I yell. We are such a perfect team. Sometimes I feel sorry for the poor rickshaw drivers that got near me this weekend. But then I think about their true rickshaw monopolies and how they seriously rip us off and I am glad I yelled at them. I'm experience new things in India, and so are they. How often are they yelled at by a tiny white girl with a book bag that towers over her in the middle of a busy street?

India is full of experiences for everyone.

I am still working on patience. On that note, I dropped a class spontaneously today after slight deliberation of the huge amount of work I could be doing for unnecessary credits and joined Yoga: Practice and Theory.

Maybe now my patience plan will be put into effect.

Back to the story:

Our driver dropped us off along Beach Road. Beach Road was teeming with people.

So you know, Indians come out after 4, when everything cools off. They are smart smart people.

 

We walked along, snapped some pictures and got ice cream. We felt bad because we walked past one man offering us ice cream but then stopped at the next ice cream place. Just as the man who had offered us ice cream first walked by us. I can only compare his death glare to my own. I don't blame him. We were spectacles walking down the street (it might have also had something to do with the wind and the amount of trouble my scarf was giving me while every other scarf barely ruffled) and everyone saw us reject him only to accept the next ice cream man. Unintentional.

It was time to find food. We keep doing this even though we feel weird, but we just waltz into hotels and sit down at their restaurants. We do not sleep in 5 star hotels but we eat at 5 star hotels. And in Visakhapatnam, we ate at a 5 star hotel overlooking the Bay of Bengal twice and for both meals, all paid under $20.

We were at Dolphin restaurant the first night.

Note to self and readers: let your food cool down.

It does not matter how hungry you are, that egg roll bite will not cool down in the back of your mouth. On the contrary, it feels a million times hotter and leaves you with peeling skin on the roof of your mouth and then you can't eat for the next week.

I am living proof that the putting steaming hot things in the back of your mouth causes you nothing but agony.

Spit it out.

Better yet, let it cool. Then enjoy your food without looking like a flailing fool.

We headed home to our hygienicly suggestively quarters. This was when I first realized that all showers come with an extra faucet, about the height of your belly button, and this water is hot, unlike the freezing cold water from the shower head. I don't think I took a single shower standing up.

I am glad I am partial contortionist and can take a decent bath squatting under a faucet.

This entire trip, we were always asleep by 10:30. Traveling is exhausting.

Next post tomorrow, with pictures of a stressful, packed, gorgeous train ride to Araku Valley, and a local village. Also, with possible news about Telangana.

In today's news, Muslim women are being told that they cannot vote in their burqas because they must be able to be identified. Makes sense.

Love.

 

To keep you satisfied

until I blog (I have a Hindi test tomorrow and a birthday card I HAD to make so I didn't find time during this extremely long lazy {super necessary since I felt blah all weekend and I needed to recover} day)

check out Riane's blog (her birthday is tomorrow!!!) until I can update tomorrow evening-ish.
That way you can prepare yourself for what you know will either be one very long post or several posts (but filled with lots of great pics of people, places, and things!)

http://putoffyourshoes.wordpress.com/

First off

before I write about the past weekend/first individual India traveling experience, let me say

that as much as I love India
we visited several places this weekend that made me ache for home
and among the happy tears and sad tears (have you ever been about as far from home as one can get and been somewhere that makes you feel right at home? It is a very disconcerting feeling.) I discovered that I was homesick at moments
but also that I was beyond thrilled to be so far from home and could still find the calming beauty and comfort of home in the mere scenery

we visited mountains, and stayed in a valley
and it reminded me of being at LEAF, sitting in the valley, with the mist over the Blue Ridge Mountains, surrounded by tall, gorgeous hills
and the crisp cool air and scenic views and stops, the tops of trees tall and green, of the long winding road reminding me of the first mountain drive of springtime when the light flashes between the tree branches and warms my body and my soul

We walked through caves
and touched the cool underground rock
and took pictures of this gigantic underground formation
and felt our way along the rocks
and talked about how this is where the dwarves in Lord of the Rings would live
and it reminded me of a cave I went to at home once, when I was little
except it was quieter
and we probably had a guide
and the cave was wet, dripping
and it made me think about how fun it would be to go climbing or maybe kayaking

we walked along the beach
and it reminded me of  Charleston
and while this was a very different beach - no historical houses, shacks instead
surrounded by hills, not marsh grasses
no fancy boats and yachts in ports, locals carrying their boats out to sea by bamboo shoulder lifts
no vacationers

but it was a beach, and it was full of life, and it was surrounded by palm trees, and I just wanted to hop on a bike and be carefree. Plus, the humid air gave me my Charleston hair back
and I love my Charleston hair

It reminded me of all of the things I will miss happening at home
and most of all, it all reminded me of what I could, maybe would, be doing if I were at home.

If I were home, I would be baking brownies for Riane's birthday that is on Wednesday. But probably not, because I wouldn't have the luck of knowing Riane.
But I hope I would be doing something just as happy as baking.
I would hope that my doors and windows would be wide open to let in the fresh air
Maybe I would be at the animal shelter, or driving to Columbia to meet my parents for lunch
I might be catching a theater performance with Steven
or maybe I would be on that carefree bike ride, without ever knowing and understanding what the term "carefree" really means
I might be getting coffee in Greenville with Kyle
Maybe I would be hiking through the woods with Caleb, or talking with Susan in the car on the way to a dance
I could possibly be sitting on a stool in the kitchen talking to dad while he cooks for a small family weekend gathering, mentioning things to mom as she whizzes past cleaning
Perhaps I would be in the studio working on choreography for the spring show, or maybe for ACDF
or playing a little piano
I might be lying in my bed watching Sunday Morning and eating a big bowl of granola with raisins
or on a long run along the Battery
I might be laughing with Becca in the kitchen or attempting to finish painting my table
I might just be sitting on my back porch at my precious porch table my parents bought me and reading a book and eating yogurt.
Perhaps Hayley, Deandra and I are rendevous-ing, reminiscing about the good ole' days
Maybe I would be downing a humongous glass of soy milk just because I could
I might be at home in Inman, petting my dogs, hugging on the cats, staring at the mountains, loving home but thinking about all of the places I would love to go, and all of the things I could learn and do elsewhere
but I would probably be plotting my escape from what I have always known, and things that I always know will be there when I need when, and even when I don't.
But I certainly do not take home for granted
because just like everyone else in the world, I love home because it familiar. and for me, home is also filled with love and support.
and I am lucky enough that all of that love and support and happy thoughts and feelings and experiences has followed me to India, giving me something to hold to, not to run away from.
and certainly not to dwell on. certainly not to dwell on.

Even with all of that said, I don't think it is a bad thing to realize all of the things you have. While I feel bad about missing petty things like bike rides and mountain views and animals I can touch and a cute apartment and a car and stability, I think it is ok to miss it. I would certainly be taking home and everything it has to offer for granted.
Being so far away really gives you the chance to take a step back.

and because when I think about it, I'm going back.

And then I'll miss India and everything that India offers that home could never, ever come close to offering.

But I'll get to that when it comes.

Adventures in Indialand

India is full of adventures.

This time, full of sad adventures.

Here is the story:
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/Its-era-of-bandhs-in-AP/articleshow/5478790.cms

The Telangana movement is centered here in Hyderabad. Most of the action is taking place at Osmania University on the other side of town, but we are all being affected.
Yesterday, a young supporter of the Telangana movement decided to commit suicide by lighting himself on fire because the forming of the new Telangana state has not occurred yet.  This is 160th suicide since November, I'm told.
This is also in part of trying to get students to boycott classes and upcoming exams.
Today the supporters called for a bandh - everything to be shut down - in respect/remembrance to this death/suicide.

I went to class this morning, only to be confronted with a decision - supporters of the Telangana movement are on the U of H campus. They barged into out classroom (where only 6 students showed up) and demanded that we support their movement and pay respects to the death of their friend by boycotting classes. Our teacher, furious, told them that this is a democracy - they would have to appeal to us, the students - and it would be our decision to leave. If we didn't that was our decision. He was a teacher and as long as there are students, he would teach. (I realllllly like this teacher, btw.)
 We ended up all deciding that ending class was a good idea. Smart too, because we were the last class to leave and we ended up being locked in the building. It took pleading and door searching to finally be let out.
Walking back to my dorm, U of H students that are supporting the movement and boycotts/bandh were riding up and down the campus roads in screaming and singing, with the intent of not having any classes today.
I think today will be a quiet day stuck in Tagore dorm.

I am not a supporter nor do I have anything against this movement - this isn't my home. But, I do think rather poorly of suicide/suicide attempts. I do not support having to miss class because one person made the decision to kill himself. I do not support having to monitor my movements in a foreign country because of rash choices.
I do not appreciate being forced to "support" a movement that isn't mine.

Supporters are trying to form Telangana due to oppression.
But now everyone is oppressed.
Supporters of the movement keep trying to force certain members of the state and central government that are supporters of the movement (T MLAs = Telangana Members of Legislature and MP = Members of Parliament) to quit their jobs with the state and central governments. This will prevent the government from making any decisions while they don't have officers. Supporters are telling the officers to resign by the 28th. The way I understand it, supporters are hoping that the threat of losing members of the government will force the government to agree to the forming of Telangana.

Yes, this is a memorable time to be in India. I am more than happy to be in India while history is in the making. And I am very glad that I am in India during a time of immense change, this is certainly a once in a lifetime experience.
I'm rather neutral - I really do not understand the movement.
I know that I do not, could not support a movement based on force and suicide.
But what happens if I don't support?

This is India.
Didn't Gandhi teach them anything?
Change and progress through peace, insight, rationality.
Fasting... ok. Gandhi was projecting world peace, and he wasn't forcing anyone to do it with him.
160 suicides later, forced resignations and boycotts, a halt on education and there is still no Telangana... will anybody be left?
Ineffective?
I don't know how the government works and the reasoning behind why things aren't "progressing," and I don't know the mentality of the supporters.
I don't have any clue.
Riane suggests a corrupt government, scared of making decisions. She's been researching for her politics daily stories, so she probably has a much better take on it than I do.

So the new question - more how than why:
How are decisions ever made when a country is in such a state of change?

Photo courtesy of Riane Menardi

In other, semi related news, Riane, Nathan and I are planning on traveling this weekend, if the trains are going again.

It is a long weekend, no classes on Tuesday (India celebrates every holiday on the planet and so we rarely have class) so we shall be traveling by train  and visiting Visakhapatnam (Vizag for short) and Araku Valley where we will see an Indian tribe perform and such. It is on the coast, so we of course will check out the beaches and markets, and there are some caves we are checking. Even a wildlife preserve. Should be a fab weekend.

We joke that it better be, because it was hell to get together.

We ended up having to go to the tourism office and the train station to make reservations, and where we all grew an extra set of elbows to prevent from being pushed to the back of longgg lines by pushy Indians.

Understand this - the lack of personal space is astounding. They do not care how long you have been somewhere, they will cut in front of you in a heartbeat.

We went to the womens line, only to be broken in front of by drag queens! Indian drag queens... like 8 of them! They were not very successful - man hands, man voices, man faces and Riane said she had a pair of fake books pressed against her for a while.... crackly, I think was the description.

I was standing next to Riane for awhile, with my arm blocking people from trying to get in front of us, when one of the drag queens actually picked up my arm and said she was trying to get through!

Tyler had to tell me to breath.

I ended up leaving the line to sit down, although I am not afraid of yelling at people in public spaces, regardless if they can understand me or not.

It would have been ineffective - they don't realize what waiting your turn is - it just isn't a familiar concept. It has never been a part of their lives and so they have no clue that others would consider it rude-ish.

So Tyler and I went to pick up chai for all of us and while drinking and contemplating Indian mentality, I saved a child from certain death.

I was sitting in a chair across from two small boys, 4-5ish and one scooted back only to fall in between the chair and the back of the chair.

So there I am, this white astounded American staring at this child with his butt stuck in a hole with his limbs protruding forward and his companion poking him.

Tyler commented later that I must have had a spring in my chair I got up so fast. He also mentioned that I sounded like a sitar with whatever noise came out of my mouth as I jumped up and yanked this poor terrified child out of his chair/hole with one hand.

The kid and I just looked at each other. I'm fairly certain he was terrified out of his mind, getting stuck in a chair only to find himself being yanked out by some white girl with a steaming chai in her hand.

I started to ask if he was ok, but then realized that he wouldn't understand me, so I just patted him on the head. Then I just walked away. I didn't know what else to do.

Tyler was howling. The man across the way was chuckling. I was howling too. But I was also a little relieved/embarrassed

I sat down and looked back at the kid - he was sheepish.

I hope I would be as proactive if a child fell in front of a train or something.

I don't know why I was so scared that this child was going to be stuck with a chair around his butt his entire life.

I wish I had a video.

I do have some videos of recent - we had a holiday last Thursday, and a popular thing to do is fly kites, Kite Runner style. Sumana brought her family, paper kites and special manja thread (made with groud up glass that is veryyyyy dangerous to the world for various reasons and we tried to fly kites and "cut" each others kites down. So we unsuccessfull "flew" kites (zero successful until late) and I snapped some photos and some videos because I do not support flying kites with manja thread.

Manja thread has killed so many in India. Birds fly into it and it cuts their heads off, people on motorcycles get beheaded, children get hit by cars as they chase their kites that have been cut... not smart. So, I just watched and took pictures.

Pavel making a kite

Riane, Vikrum and Sumana = success! See that little dot in the sky?

Kite flying viewers: Kristin, Benny, Tyler, Riane

After kite flying, I whooped Tyler's butt at frisbee (he hasn't asked me to play since then...) and Nathan and I fed some leftovers to some dogs/wild boars outside the dorm. We also did some traveling around the city:

 

Komal

 

A deceptive bicycle

Chowmalla Palace

Charminar

Small child peeing in the street

 

Child driving moped

Paan - the Indian bad habit

Action shot:

Kristin in the background, hating it.

Riane trying to get the whole thing in her mouth. Seriously huge, and super gross tasting. Also, full of tobacco. The reason why Indians spit so much.

So, ok.

Hope everyone is great at home.

love always.

i miss dancing a lot

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY




and I think dancing should always be shared, just like this.




long weekend. reallly long weekend.

Where did all of this impatience and irritation come from?

Tomorrow is Sunday and I will find the time and the energy and the patience (my patience plan in India has not been working this week) to write down and upload all of the pictures from the fabulous and fun activities we did during this long, long weekend.

This was me dancing to my modeling spot at Chowmalla Palace with my modeling partner Riane. 

I do not know why she was not dancing.

This is the happy after-picture.

We are so modelish.

Modeling good moods, bags, and Indian clothing in old palaces.

The new trend - vintage places with a touch of modern thought.

(And, we are exactly the same height!)

check out my roomie's article for Politic's Daily on the Telangana movement in Hyderabad:

http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/01/13/telangana-state-controversy-indian-university-students-take-up/

It took two and a half weeks to want to be home and not in India.

I've lost people before. I know what it feels like to be left alone.
I know the amount of time it takes to stop seeing their face every time my eyes close, and I can estimate when I will stop wanting to yell at innocent bystanders for existing when there are other people I would rather be near me.
But it has been awhile since I had to deal with the fact that I will never see someone again. In fact, it has never happened.
This time, she is really and truly gone.

There will be no more questions or phone tag or hospital updates and visits.
There will be no more postcards from India - "Tamara, you stick in there because I can't wait to see you again!"
There is nobody to go show pictures of my adventure to. There is nobody to go tell "See, I was safe and smart and I'm back, just like I promised!"

I feel selfish when I don't always cry at what I see in the streets here, the death and suffering, but as soon as I get a call from home with the information that I will never again see someone that I love and spent a large amount of time with, I can't stop crying, even if she has moved past her pain and suffering now.

For the first time since I made it to India, I hate it here.
I hate it for being so far away. I hate the 14 hour flight, and the slow mail system. I hate the time difference. And I hate India for having so much suffering for me to see when all I want to do is cry for myself and what I no longer have in my life.

I knew that when I left, I would not be the only thing changed.
When I left, I was worried about all the things that I would miss at home.
Dad told me I couldn't worry about it, but rather I should expect it.
But I didn't. And now I am missing a very important ending, and goodbyes and hugs and support for a very important person in my life that when I walked out her doors, disappointing her and myself and my family and my friends, I didn't think I would never say a real goodbye.
I didn't think I would be on the other side of the world from everything I loved.

The idea of never seeing someone ever again is heartbreaking.

I want to be home.

The two strongest people I have ever known.

I can't cover everything that has happened.
Our Sumana sent us a list of all the things we have done since we reached the school (a week and a half ago!!) and although I remember doing all of those things, I can't believe I did!
There are so many little things that have been done, that have been said - I want to share it all but sometimes I feel like I get so much information, I can't recall half of it. A lot of it I find amusing, insightful, good advice... I just can't seem to find it all when I want to put it down.

But, this week is a short week. There is a holiday Thursday (Sankriti/Pongal) and I don't have classes on Fridays so... free timeee

I am going to go see this on Thursday:

http://www.in.com/videos/watchvideo-mayakkamoxymoretrailer-3646161.html

And this on Saturday:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPQU9Egoe2Q


Both should be wonderful.

I have made a few Indian friends - Osham, Godwin and Alehkya and I had class with them today. These friendships consist merely of smiling, nodding and sometimes small hand waves. But at least they look at me.
I had the most uncomfortable situation of being the only white girl on the bus today. We kept picking people up on the way to our destination and, crowding on, everyone that came to be on the bus would look at me, and try to sit as far away as possible. At one point, I had an entire bus row to myself and there were men sitting on each others laps. There must be something else wrong with me.
Uncomfortable. Awkward.

I haven't been sleeping well. I apparently don't look well either, because my parents continuously ask if I am eating properly, why I look so tired, why I am down, if I am ok.
But I think it is the malaria pills. Malaria is a fever, Riane tells me. So, taking the pills induces vivid dreams and hallucinations, often like a fever can do.
That would explain why my grandmother had webbed fingers encased in an alien-like translucent sac in my dream and she was chopping potatoes, because chopped potatos made them feel better when she covered her hands in them. That would explain why in my mind, it justified why we eat so many potatoes here.
It would also explain why Riane thinks that our lights flicker in the middle of the night, or why I wake up in the middle of the night and ask her who she is talking to. I don't know about this one, but it also makes sense to blame my dream thoughts of pigs outside my second floor window rubbing their backs on the glass and sneezing.
It possibly explains why Tyler stole his roommates covers and crawled into his bed in the middle of the night, clutching his roomies pillow.

Maybe India itself makes you go crazy.

philosophizing

I have encountered something else new in India - it is called talking and philosophizing about the world. And it is ok.
In the past, I have had a lack of people to talk about this with due to disinterest and disagreements, even feelings of guiltiness for thinking about and asking questions like "Who am I and what is my place in the world?"
And I don't ever feel like that anymore.
I have yet to get the response, "Why are you thinking about that? Why do you want to talk about feelings, the world, self identification, the meaning of the world/life/existence, etc?"
I am glad. I was missing out on a vital part of my personal well being and happiness until recently.
Now I have 2 friends here that will sit on a roof with me for 3 1/2 hours and we can talk about everything. Everything.
Philosophy class, perspectives on religion and faith, family relationships, the "sick" world, romantic relationships, "master statuses" and identity, morals, passive love vs. active love, essence, gay chicken, 90s music, manipulation, human experiments, and insecurities. All of these things have been approached within a 24 hour time period and I adore it.
I always needed it, I knew that. But I never had it, someone to talk with and share and listen to, all in a comfortable, shall I say, equal? setting. We can all ask and answer questions, respectfully agreeing or disagreeing and we all give each other the chance to make their point. There are no hard feelings, and there is nothing that is taken too personally. This is group of people who don't mind sharing and discovering new ways of looking at the world.
And these people approach these subjects with the gusto that I have always wanted to discuss these things - not because one has to, or should. But because we all do think about these things, and we don't mind thinking about it.
It doesn't "hurt" us, it doesn't hinder us. we are enlightened and this is a state we all agree is a good state to be in.

Glimpses of a Sunday afternoon

Ok sorry. So I missed the last three days and am attempting to make them... this is final of the 3. So, if you care enough, below this post you will find 2 more very long posts (but with pictures!!)
Anyways, here are a few pictures from campus. I probably should have taken more but riding a bike and taking pictures isn't the easiest thing I've ever done. I'll put more up later when I get them.

Sunday:

Allyn and Riane go for a run (in shorts!!!) No pictures (except probably for the images imprinted in many people's brains as they stared at us (white white white legs in tiny shorts come far and few between in India.)

Then we lounge around.

Then we eat lunch.

Then we go for a bike ride with Nathan. We explored some paths despite the Do Not Proceed signs. Here are some pics!

First, a cow eating trash outside the dorm.

I lag behind to snap photos/I'm inept at taking pictures and riding bikes.

This is the post office where people always cut me off.

This is "ShopCom." Here, we drink chai and feed dogs. This is basically the student center - printing shop, get your own clothes made shop, stationary shop, quick shop, atm, get a phone, etc.
Looks a little bit different than at home.

This is a trashcan that has been missed a few times.

This is our favorite path so far.

This is a lake we found. A possible name we have heard: Buffalo Pond. We can know which one is Buffalo Lake and which is Peacock Lake because the buffalo are usually at Peacock Lake. Buffalo were missing from this lake, so it must be Buffalo Lake.

We posed. Like usual, I've got some crazy hair.

Merci beaucoup to Nathan for the pic.

Then we came back. Lounged some more, watched some girls play a practice cricket game. I whooped tush at frisbee and got some compliments from enthralled Indians who had never heard of Frisbee. I think I have my friend Taylor to thank for the ability to throw a frisbee. Taylor, wherever in the world you are, thanks.

Today was a quiet day, with lots of philosophical thinking and talking between the 3 of us: Allyn, Riane and Nathan.

We did a fair bit of dissecting different subjects.

The power went out twice today.

Power outages are not condusive to studying or blogging fb stalking.

either way, we got some good stretching done this evening with nothing to distract us.

I think we are getting into the swing of our new life nicely.

Lovelovelove.