Here is a small look:
This is beautiful Riane in a rickshaw talking to Sumana ("Sumama") on the phone about our (first!) terrible driver.
We took some snacks... it is unfortunate but true: India does not have double stuf oreos.
This is called the terrifying, limited view of the rickshaw backseat.
I stopped taking pictures because our rickshaw driver started yelling at us because we wouldn't give him the amount of rupees he was demanding, even though the meter told us a completely different, and much less price amount.
Things began to get hectic so pictures took a backseat.
We ended up stranded at a really neat bookstore, where we spent 2 hours in the regional writers section and receiving special attention, like stools to sit on and complimentary refreshments.
We then caught another horrible rickshaw - we said University of Hyderabad, Central Campus. He thought we said Hyderabad Central. And we ended up on the entire other end of the city.
He told us we had to get off because he didn't know where he was going.
As we were attempting to find another driver in the middle of an incredibly busy main road, a child approached me, so I gave it my Aliva crackers. Then a mother with a baby in her arms approached me and I gave her 25 rupees. After the grasping and motioning, I yanked away and we drove away in our new rickshaw.
He stopped a few times - he didn't know where the school was either! The campus is 2,300 acres... That is huge. How nobody knows where a humongous school is located was beyond the two of us.
But he was very nice.
He took us all the way into campus, right to our front door.
We then saw him the next at the train station, but we didn't need him. We had just discovered that while it takes 160 (approx. $3) rupees by rickshaw from Hyderabad Central to campus, it only takes 3!!! rupees by the city train. It took about 10 years longer to get anywhere but...
Here is a glimpse:
This is 3 of us in the very back of a rickshaw on the way to the train station. All that stood between us and the hard pavement was that little door you can see. Life in India is exhilarating. And awkward.People seriously run off the road staring at 3 white kids packed in the back of a rickshaw.
It sucks knowing that your existence in a foreign country could cause death by curiosity.
The train!!!! Our first train ride! So excited - so very Darjeeling Limited!
This is one of the signs they use at the train station to tell you to not carry things that can easily ignite. One of many horrifying and animated pictures. Strangely enough, I didn't get a picture of any of them, the trashcans are in the form of penguins.Which, I think, are probably animals that are least likely to be in India.
This is excited train riding Riane.
Hiiii Ranjani!!
Tracks that lead all over the world.So, then we got hungry a few times.
This is us at Domino's and all of its delicious bland cheesy-ness.
7 people, 2 large pizzas and an order a breadsticks. Gone.
I look confused here, yes?
The next day consisted of....
A puppet show!
The Nari Night Cup Cricket Tournament on campus - people are wild for this sport. Consists of hitting the ball if you want and running if you want. Riveting.
Sleepiness.
Over the weekend....
We also saw a movie, but they took my batteries out and kept them because apparently batteries can be rigged to be explosives. We saw 3 Idiots, an extreme 3 hour Bollywood movie completely in Hindi with super super extremes - the music numbers always led to a suicide induced by pressure from higher education. There were babies watching this theater. This movie will never fly in the US.
And we took an extremely fast (we chose the speedboat option for some reason...) trip to a Buddha statue in the middle of a lake where they also took my batteries from me again.
I don't know how to word so many "also's" but we also got to go to Birla Temple and drink holy water. I couldn't take pics there either because they took my batteries. I didn't know until I got to India that I am clearly the most obvious type of terrorist.
That in itself is an interesting thing... because of the disruption by the possibly formed Telangana, everything is in a state of constant fear and lock down. So, entering anywhere = getting felt up behind a curtain (I might be a terrorist, but because I am a woman, they will find it in a respectful manner.)
Overall, a great first weekend.
Also, just like I write about other people, someone wrote something about me.
This is from my new friend Nathan's facebook blog.
I find that we get along quite nicely:
India 4
So, after Yoga was cancelled, I finally went on a cycle tour with a few other students (including my roommate) around the campus, which seemed helpful. Among others, I met Riane, who is a female journalism major that goes to school in Iowa. Toward the end of the trip (on the way to mushroom rock), Riane's roommate, Allyn (who hangs out with my roommate a lot), asks me, "Are you shy?" Now you have to understand, she's the kind of ... hyper ... girl that will arbitrarily say 'hi' to me without any reason. Therefore, I respond, "More shy than you. Is that a good enough answer?" She says, "More shy than most people?" I go on to say what I think of her - something about how she seems to be hyper - and I think she takes offense, so I rephrase my evaluation of her. "You like to have fun. You ... like to be crazy, energetic..." She agrees, "Yeah, some of the time. Some of the time I'm not so much. I can be down." Without hesitation I laugh, "So you're manic depressive." "Yeah, and maybe a little bipolar," she says in a straight tone. For the life of me I couldn't tell if she was joking or serious. I didn't know how to take her, as a whole. I told her that I couldn't tell if she was just being crazy or if she was being very honest. She asks me, "Why can't it be both? So how about you?" "What do you mean?" I say as she caught me off guard. In that same straight tone of hers that has started to bother me (because I can't read her) she says something like, "What are your problems?" I laugh and skeptically retort, "What? You want a detailed history of my psychological profile?" Again, in that same blasted voice, she says, "Yeah." I thought that she shouldn't be asking me these questions. No. No one not anyone acts like that to me. Not anyone puts me in that kind of position. I try to explain this to her later.
At this point, Riane has decided to linger behind in the group of cycles because "Your conversation is interesting to listen to. It's... so.. awkward." At this point, I blame Allyn for the awkwardness. Riane says that Allyn is making me feel so awkward, but I protest and try to explain that very typically I am the one who makes impressions (especially bad impressions) but they don't seem to get it. I didn't take the luxury of telling stories to try to explain stories of these "impressions," partly because I felt like it would be weird to claim this without any of my friends from home to back me up (I need you guys - for more than just to legitimate my illegitimacy). When I get quiet for a while, Allyn asks me, "What are you thinking?" Yes. She is definitely not allowed to ask that question. But I answer honestly and say, "I'm thinking about writing about you in a facebook note for my friends back home." After that, I let this conversation go, perhaps letting Allyn fall into one of her more down moments.
We head back to Tagore, and I realize that I smell. Like, pretty bad. So I reapply the Axe deodorant that my dad got me (which may cause bruises, if the commercials in America are at all accurate [5 points for alliteration]), before heading down to dinner. In the middle of dinner, I turn to Allyn and inform her that, if she's still interested in my psychological whatever, I have decided to be honest. She indicates that she is still interested, so I tell her, "I worship a little man who lives in my stomach and I have diagnosed him with OCD, and I think sometimes his anxiety gets to me and makes me depressed." Her eyes go wide as she shoots Riane a look from across the table. After settling down after my confession (which I don't think she believed me, by the way), she started talking about how she has an anxiety disorder that they don't have medication (and maybe not even a name) for. She wanted to talk to me a little bit more about depression (that part I think she believed). I went back up to my room, exhausted from the cycle ride, and slept.
