well it's very late here, (2:45 am) so just a 'one-liner.'
eight day excursion to south totally aborted for me and peer katherine. on second day of trip came down with intense fever, and on third day the two of us were sent back to delhi. admitted to clinic back here in the city, where quickly diagnosed with mixed infection: bacterial intestinal infection and giardia--oh, boy! spent four very long days and nights in the clinic hooked up to an IV and learning all sorts of things about diarrhea (actually, a little too experiential for my taste...).
finally, 104 degree fever subsided and I became re-hydrated by end of second day in clinic. watched lots of american tv and bored out of my head in four white walls=claustrophobia. However, very comfortable set-up with a/c and appropriately bland food, and constant supervision by nurses who knew a few key words of english and otherwise talented at reading frantic pantomimes (another roll of toilet paper, please!) (harder to convey: "is this tingling sensation normal?" ... eventually just got a smile, so i decided, 'well, it's normal enough').
thankgod katherine was there with me, or I would have gone really nuts. as it was, i spent much of my time fantasizing about american food (i was only allowed to eat broth and toast, and even that only after two days of nothing but intravenous NaCl and dextrose) ...
[tangent: food like oreo ice-cream and zaftig's (or home-grilled) cheeseburgers (medium rare with lettuce, onions, tomato, mayo, and ketchup... would someone please eat one in my honor? oh, and a bagel with cream cheese, nova, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and capers.... but it has to be a good bagel, maybe from rosenfelds, not the crap they have at zaftigs: Bruegger's=shudder)]
... and also spent time comparing the food i was craving with what k was craving. Also, reading High Fidelity (very funny, even if you've already seen the movie like i had); watching plenty of american tv (turned out to be very comforting in between shitting my brains own (pardon the crudeness)); pacing my cubical for exercise; and trying to come up with clever titles for the epic blog entry i was composing in my head (i think this abbreviated version will drag on LESS than that epic would have). I wish i could remember some of the potential titles. actually, i wish i could remember any of them. what i do remember was that i was planning to write this clever thing (at least, i thought) about how my first time staying in a hospital was also happening in India. a dual delight.
Anyway, finally sprung from the clinic yesterday afternoon=not a moment too soon. Whisked away by Ravi (K's host dad and for all of us the homestay coordinator/advisor... a lovely man) to his country farm where i spent an extremely refreshing night and day, especially by contrast. Swam in his well-water pool, which was a definite high-lite.
Tonight, crashing at Ravi's (where k normally stays anyway) b/c it's easier than going back to sangeeta's and, to be honest, i think i would be lonely apart from K given that everyone else is still away on their fucking excursion (pardon the language, Granny. clearly still bitter about spending our epic week in my epic hospital room) and i've never stayed there without james.
i guess this is the post of parenthetic clauses; oh well, i'm too lazy to properly order this thing at this hour and after having written 5 emails already.
If i sound grumpy about the experience, it's half for effect (though i was quite pissed a couple days ago, in the midst of my clinic experience) because I'm feeling about 100 times better. nearly feel in full health at this point, although the stomach is still dodgy, i.e. needs bland, small portions (which i have stupidly refused to feed it in the past 24 hours out of pure greed for flavor and delicious fat).
well, so much for the one-liner. all for now.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
saturday afternoon
finally a lazy day for james and I. got a terrific amount of sleep last night, and I think I'm finally beating this cold. just had a late lunch with Sangeeta; Raj, the cook, continues to work his magic. Today we had a chilled lentil-sprout, cucumber and tomato salad; potato curry; rice; chipatie; sauteed okra; and yogurt. right now james and I are relaxing in the living/dinning room both on our laptops, under the perpetual ceiling fans, listening to modest mouse. I think he's writing a letter to Chelsea, his girlfriend.
when I was doing research at the Hare Krishna temple last week, a trio of girls approached and started talking to me. They all gave me their numbers and two of them seemed to be encouraging the third to talk to me. Very weird, but funny. So, a few days later, I got a call from the third one (Sonal) while on the train to Pushkar; she was asking me out to coffee--and clearly interested going on a date with me. Well, sadly (perhaps) for Sonal, I don't think there is any romantic future for the two of us. But last night James and I were feeling very carefree, thinking of seeing a movie, so we decided to call these girls up and see if they wanted to hang out.
They were very pleased we had called, and invited us over to their flat, which happens to be just a few minutes walk from Sangeeta's. We thought, "well, this should be a riot no matter what it turns out to be," so we got dressed and ventured out. Oddly enough, being invited over to an Indian girls' flat who we barely know violates so many expectations and rules of decorum that we were coached in during orientation. So much for that.
So we took a motor-rickshaw over there and awkwardly sat down in the living room with these three Indian girls and these two Quebecois girls--who happened to have just arrived the previous night, didn't know them, and were couch surfing there. The seven of us had a very odd, sometimes raucous, sometimes stilted conversation and then moved on to dinner. (this was the second dinner for James and I, but we didn't want to be rude). Repeatedly, I was seated next to Sonal, which I sure was no coincidence. I hadn't felt like this since middleschool. She kept on looking at me and smiling. Poor Sonal. (Hey, I'd probably be too weird for her anyway if the language barrier didn't prevent all but the most superficial conversation).
We had a film rental delivered; this movie "Chuk'h Dae India!" that is all abuzz in India right now. About the triumphant rise of the womens' field hockey team. We got thru the first half before James and I decided to call it a night. It was very awkward telling them we needed to go to bed, verging on rude. At the very least, they expected us to finish the movie, as any normal guest would. But James and I were getting a strong feeling that it was more prudent for us to leave, so James started talking about how tired we were. We apologetically thanked them for a nice evening. We were exiting when it became clear that two of the Indian girls, Sonal and her more english-fluent friend, were going to walk us home. A few yards later, we heard the rest of them walking quickly to catch up.
James and I found ourselves in this walking gang of Indian and Quebecois girls, moving thru this posh Delhi neighborhood at 1am. About halfway home we told them we could find the rest of the way on our own. After we parted, James pointed out that they might have all been hoping for good night kisses! (at least the Indian girls). One of the things we were told is that Indian men and women often have very odd expectations about dating in the U.S. Mostly what they know about U.S. courtship conventions they have learned (and believe verbatim) from the random selection of Hollywood romantic-comedy blockbusters; additionally, the exaggerated impression left by American free-love in the 70s still lingers strongly here. As such, Indian men expect white girls to be very easy, and Indian women expect white guys to move very quickly, and pull all the moon-lit good-night kissing moves. I think James was absolutely right in his interpretation--very bizarre and pretty hilarious, too.
I'm going to see if I can find a pool to go swimming at this afternoon. Early to bed, then wicked early to rise for 5:30 am train to Varnassi tomorrow.
when I was doing research at the Hare Krishna temple last week, a trio of girls approached and started talking to me. They all gave me their numbers and two of them seemed to be encouraging the third to talk to me. Very weird, but funny. So, a few days later, I got a call from the third one (Sonal) while on the train to Pushkar; she was asking me out to coffee--and clearly interested going on a date with me. Well, sadly (perhaps) for Sonal, I don't think there is any romantic future for the two of us. But last night James and I were feeling very carefree, thinking of seeing a movie, so we decided to call these girls up and see if they wanted to hang out.
They were very pleased we had called, and invited us over to their flat, which happens to be just a few minutes walk from Sangeeta's. We thought, "well, this should be a riot no matter what it turns out to be," so we got dressed and ventured out. Oddly enough, being invited over to an Indian girls' flat who we barely know violates so many expectations and rules of decorum that we were coached in during orientation. So much for that.
So we took a motor-rickshaw over there and awkwardly sat down in the living room with these three Indian girls and these two Quebecois girls--who happened to have just arrived the previous night, didn't know them, and were couch surfing there. The seven of us had a very odd, sometimes raucous, sometimes stilted conversation and then moved on to dinner. (this was the second dinner for James and I, but we didn't want to be rude). Repeatedly, I was seated next to Sonal, which I sure was no coincidence. I hadn't felt like this since middleschool. She kept on looking at me and smiling. Poor Sonal. (Hey, I'd probably be too weird for her anyway if the language barrier didn't prevent all but the most superficial conversation).
We had a film rental delivered; this movie "Chuk'h Dae India!" that is all abuzz in India right now. About the triumphant rise of the womens' field hockey team. We got thru the first half before James and I decided to call it a night. It was very awkward telling them we needed to go to bed, verging on rude. At the very least, they expected us to finish the movie, as any normal guest would. But James and I were getting a strong feeling that it was more prudent for us to leave, so James started talking about how tired we were. We apologetically thanked them for a nice evening. We were exiting when it became clear that two of the Indian girls, Sonal and her more english-fluent friend, were going to walk us home. A few yards later, we heard the rest of them walking quickly to catch up.
James and I found ourselves in this walking gang of Indian and Quebecois girls, moving thru this posh Delhi neighborhood at 1am. About halfway home we told them we could find the rest of the way on our own. After we parted, James pointed out that they might have all been hoping for good night kisses! (at least the Indian girls). One of the things we were told is that Indian men and women often have very odd expectations about dating in the U.S. Mostly what they know about U.S. courtship conventions they have learned (and believe verbatim) from the random selection of Hollywood romantic-comedy blockbusters; additionally, the exaggerated impression left by American free-love in the 70s still lingers strongly here. As such, Indian men expect white girls to be very easy, and Indian women expect white guys to move very quickly, and pull all the moon-lit good-night kissing moves. I think James was absolutely right in his interpretation--very bizarre and pretty hilarious, too.
I'm going to see if I can find a pool to go swimming at this afternoon. Early to bed, then wicked early to rise for 5:30 am train to Varnassi tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Me achcha larkah hum ("I am a good boy").
just woke up from a long afternoon nap, and man did I need it. Been getting a consistent six hours of sleep every night with all this reading, Hindi homework, essays and weekly 7am yoga classes. But I do better with eight. Tomorrow is our first exam on the ACS material (all the lectures and readings we've had on Indian religion, art, etc.). I was very happy when they let us have a half-day today. James and I came home after lunch and sacked out. Now I'm waking up, feeling a little disoriented, and drinking disgusting Echinaciea water--or however you spell that.
Okay, to recap a little. Last weekend was a free weekend, so pretty much everyone made some sort of fun plan.
[Major tangent: The first people to do so were a group of five girls who (while I like them a lot... in fact I'm with them a lot) are the closest thing approaching a clique in this group. But emphasis on the word approaching. This is to say, they are not at all exclusive, but they have found that they like each other, and therefore end up being together a lot. James and I have spoken a lot about all these interesting social dynamics. Not everyone is having an easy time of it. And that's hard to see. What's also hard is there is not always a clear-cut solution. There is a lot of maturity and kindness in this group, but people just have different expectations and desires; some are much more whole-group oriented, and some want to enjoy the whole group while spending separate time with the people they click with most. So back to the weekend, these five girls were the first to make arrangements. And there was some tension about other people not being included. I found out about their plans after they were finalized, and felt kind of miffed that they hadn't very vocally invited the whole group. So a second round of reservations was made for this same little trip they had planned, during which James, Nick and I really tried to invite everyone. Ultimately, only the three of us were in this second round. So there were two trips this weekend; one, our group of seven; another group of five, and a group of three, and two individuals (one in the hospital with fever, and one hiking the foothills of N. India). That was kind of a weird thing, mostly because the main division between the group of seven and everyone else matches with a more organic division that has developed in the group as a whole. Anyway, there is a danger to over-thinking-over-talking all of this. The point being, ongoing efforts need to be made towards making the whole-group experience really good.]
Our group of seven went to Pushkar, south of Delhi, in Rajahstan. It is a holy city in the desert, that is centered around a holy lake beneath a Brahma temple. The weekend was amazing. We stayed at this country-style resort (thatched roof cottages), rustic but with all the amenities, (including A.C) that was totally luxurious and wonderful. Took a couple dips in the pool, which for me was a very mundane highlight, but a highlight none the less=my first chance to swim since I got to India... felt heavenly. In Pushkar proper we visited a Hindu temple, and then performed the ritual of Puja at the holy lake's edge. In Puja, we were in pairs, each with a Brahman guide who walked us thru the ceremony. It is done with prayer and recitations, and a plate of holy items including string (fire), and red powder dye for creating the forehead tilak, your third eye, god's eye. One of the intense parts of the ritual is how personalized it is. You are asked your mother and father and family members' names; you say the names of people you have lost, and say their names in a special prayer. My eyes were wet at the end. Finally, we throw the contents of the plate into the water, after being doused in it ourselves.
We did some serious walking around the markets of Pushkar and very much enjoyed being out of Delhi. Had some delicious meals. On saturday evening, we took a camel-pulled sunset ride through the hilly desert near our resort. Nice to meet our camels Rama and Brahma, both Hindu gods, don't you know! The group vibe was very awesome and very relaxed and we all got closer over the weekend (a double-edged sword, see above).
This week has been intense, as I've explained, but it's very nearly over. Plenty of class time and double-lecture days, on top of our 3 hr. morning sessions of Hindi. Currently, we are moving at a breakneck pace in Hindi, thru a constant state of confusion and anxiety. We have learned a new grammar structure (two chapters in our books) every morning for the past two weeks. When it comes to Hindi, many of us (including myself) are half-way to a nervous breakdown. But a light-hearted nervous breakdown.
This Sunday morning at 5:30 am, we are embarking on our longest excursion yet (eight days of steady travel on the road, trains, and a short plain flight). We will be going to Varnassi to do some serious field research and training. This will include architectural site drawings; visiting plenty of temples; seeing some absolutely top-notch classical Indian music performances (sitar and tablaa); and doing the travel thing. All of us need it, and it will be very nice to get out of the intense in-class thing for a while. Storm-Ji spoke to us this morning about the third-week rut, which normally happens. She explained that around this time, ppl. typically begin getting homesick, feeling frustrated with each other and Delhi, and generally go thru a period of hardening, being less receptive to the experience. Basically everyone in the class was nodding their heads as she described all of this. It was a nice validation, and it continues to amuse and delight me how astute she is. I love her. So, the third-week rut will be a passing thing, but I am no exception to this experience. I've had a cold (along with seven others) for the past couple days, and am very under--Mom, you're probably saying "yeah underslept and getting sick--THAT's a new thing for you." Well, I'm drinking lots of fluids, and doing the whole homeopathic thing, so I should be on the road to recovery in no time flat. Also, I'll be catching up on my sleep in a serious way.
My thoughts are with everyone at home and I hope all you important people are doing well. love, Bunny
P.S. Because there are three nicks on the program and only five guys (James' real name is Nick), Storm-Ji decided that I would be "Bunny," about two weeks ago. Bunny is a very common nick-name, oddly enough, for big, tough guys in India. So most everyone has been calling me Bunny much of the time, (James even said it to me when we were at home alone the other day) and it is a small source of amusement for the group.
... and some nice photos from pushkar, taken by Rachel
steps of Hindu temple
nick with a boy
People at the edge of the holy lake, bathing (this was the Ganesh festival, which is why there are so many people).
James, Nick, Emily, Kylie, and me on the steps near the holy lake.
... and some photos taken by me:
pushkar street at night
women air their fabric at the holy lake in Pushkar so that it absorbs the lake's essense
because cows are holy, they are pretty much allowed to go where-ever they want... although you will see street vendors shoo-ing them away from their vegetables. I am endlessly delighted by all these cows.
this cute boy asked me to take is photo. I was a little wary, because beggars and children often use this tactically, asking you for payment after the photo is taken. But this was just a cute boy who wanted his photo taken.
three nicks enjoy good company
these two seemed to be in love. We watched the cow lick the dog (with the dog occasionally craning upwards to lick the cow in return) for several minutes. When the dog trotted off, the cow looked after it longingly.
the view from our hotel in Pushkar. very beautiful
Okay, to recap a little. Last weekend was a free weekend, so pretty much everyone made some sort of fun plan.
[Major tangent: The first people to do so were a group of five girls who (while I like them a lot... in fact I'm with them a lot) are the closest thing approaching a clique in this group. But emphasis on the word approaching. This is to say, they are not at all exclusive, but they have found that they like each other, and therefore end up being together a lot. James and I have spoken a lot about all these interesting social dynamics. Not everyone is having an easy time of it. And that's hard to see. What's also hard is there is not always a clear-cut solution. There is a lot of maturity and kindness in this group, but people just have different expectations and desires; some are much more whole-group oriented, and some want to enjoy the whole group while spending separate time with the people they click with most. So back to the weekend, these five girls were the first to make arrangements. And there was some tension about other people not being included. I found out about their plans after they were finalized, and felt kind of miffed that they hadn't very vocally invited the whole group. So a second round of reservations was made for this same little trip they had planned, during which James, Nick and I really tried to invite everyone. Ultimately, only the three of us were in this second round. So there were two trips this weekend; one, our group of seven; another group of five, and a group of three, and two individuals (one in the hospital with fever, and one hiking the foothills of N. India). That was kind of a weird thing, mostly because the main division between the group of seven and everyone else matches with a more organic division that has developed in the group as a whole. Anyway, there is a danger to over-thinking-over-talking all of this. The point being, ongoing efforts need to be made towards making the whole-group experience really good.]
Our group of seven went to Pushkar, south of Delhi, in Rajahstan. It is a holy city in the desert, that is centered around a holy lake beneath a Brahma temple. The weekend was amazing. We stayed at this country-style resort (thatched roof cottages), rustic but with all the amenities, (including A.C) that was totally luxurious and wonderful. Took a couple dips in the pool, which for me was a very mundane highlight, but a highlight none the less=my first chance to swim since I got to India... felt heavenly. In Pushkar proper we visited a Hindu temple, and then performed the ritual of Puja at the holy lake's edge. In Puja, we were in pairs, each with a Brahman guide who walked us thru the ceremony. It is done with prayer and recitations, and a plate of holy items including string (fire), and red powder dye for creating the forehead tilak, your third eye, god's eye. One of the intense parts of the ritual is how personalized it is. You are asked your mother and father and family members' names; you say the names of people you have lost, and say their names in a special prayer. My eyes were wet at the end. Finally, we throw the contents of the plate into the water, after being doused in it ourselves.
We did some serious walking around the markets of Pushkar and very much enjoyed being out of Delhi. Had some delicious meals. On saturday evening, we took a camel-pulled sunset ride through the hilly desert near our resort. Nice to meet our camels Rama and Brahma, both Hindu gods, don't you know! The group vibe was very awesome and very relaxed and we all got closer over the weekend (a double-edged sword, see above).
This week has been intense, as I've explained, but it's very nearly over. Plenty of class time and double-lecture days, on top of our 3 hr. morning sessions of Hindi. Currently, we are moving at a breakneck pace in Hindi, thru a constant state of confusion and anxiety. We have learned a new grammar structure (two chapters in our books) every morning for the past two weeks. When it comes to Hindi, many of us (including myself) are half-way to a nervous breakdown. But a light-hearted nervous breakdown.
This Sunday morning at 5:30 am, we are embarking on our longest excursion yet (eight days of steady travel on the road, trains, and a short plain flight). We will be going to Varnassi to do some serious field research and training. This will include architectural site drawings; visiting plenty of temples; seeing some absolutely top-notch classical Indian music performances (sitar and tablaa); and doing the travel thing. All of us need it, and it will be very nice to get out of the intense in-class thing for a while. Storm-Ji spoke to us this morning about the third-week rut, which normally happens. She explained that around this time, ppl. typically begin getting homesick, feeling frustrated with each other and Delhi, and generally go thru a period of hardening, being less receptive to the experience. Basically everyone in the class was nodding their heads as she described all of this. It was a nice validation, and it continues to amuse and delight me how astute she is. I love her. So, the third-week rut will be a passing thing, but I am no exception to this experience. I've had a cold (along with seven others) for the past couple days, and am very under--Mom, you're probably saying "yeah underslept and getting sick--THAT's a new thing for you." Well, I'm drinking lots of fluids, and doing the whole homeopathic thing, so I should be on the road to recovery in no time flat. Also, I'll be catching up on my sleep in a serious way.
My thoughts are with everyone at home and I hope all you important people are doing well. love, Bunny
P.S. Because there are three nicks on the program and only five guys (James' real name is Nick), Storm-Ji decided that I would be "Bunny," about two weeks ago. Bunny is a very common nick-name, oddly enough, for big, tough guys in India. So most everyone has been calling me Bunny much of the time, (James even said it to me when we were at home alone the other day) and it is a small source of amusement for the group.
... and some nice photos from pushkar, taken by Rachel
steps of Hindu temple
nick with a boy
People at the edge of the holy lake, bathing (this was the Ganesh festival, which is why there are so many people).
James, Nick, Emily, Kylie, and me on the steps near the holy lake.
... and some photos taken by me:
pushkar street at night
women air their fabric at the holy lake in Pushkar so that it absorbs the lake's essense
because cows are holy, they are pretty much allowed to go where-ever they want... although you will see street vendors shoo-ing them away from their vegetables. I am endlessly delighted by all these cows.
this cute boy asked me to take is photo. I was a little wary, because beggars and children often use this tactically, asking you for payment after the photo is taken. But this was just a cute boy who wanted his photo taken.
three nicks enjoy good company
these two seemed to be in love. We watched the cow lick the dog (with the dog occasionally craning upwards to lick the cow in return) for several minutes. When the dog trotted off, the cow looked after it longingly.
the view from our hotel in Pushkar. very beautiful
Monday, September 17, 2007
a few 2nd–3rd week photos
I'm realizing I haven't posted in a week, which is testament to the fact that time is really flying. I wish I had time to do a post now, but my paper is calling me. So here are a few photos in the meantime.
Taking a horse-pulled rickshaw to the Golden Temple, Amritsar: Me, Nick G., James, Katherine.
Indian man carries the flag at the nightly ceremony, Amritsar (India-Pakistan border).
yet another in the endless series of bland group photos--this one taken in Amritsar
On the train to Amritsar: Kylie, Storm Ji, James, Ari (clockwise from left).
A stall near M-Block Market, G.K. 1, nighttime.
Two bike-riders at dusk, G.K.1
DuringKrishna's birthday festival, at a small Hindu temple near G.K. 1, Delhi. (where I live) The temple is atop a small hill; it is very beautiful, and also very kitsch, which is pretty standard for popular Indian Devotional art these days.
Taking a horse-pulled rickshaw to the Golden Temple, Amritsar: Me, Nick G., James, Katherine.
Indian man carries the flag at the nightly ceremony, Amritsar (India-Pakistan border).
yet another in the endless series of bland group photos--this one taken in Amritsar
On the train to Amritsar: Kylie, Storm Ji, James, Ari (clockwise from left).
A stall near M-Block Market, G.K. 1, nighttime.
Two bike-riders at dusk, G.K.1
DuringKrishna's birthday festival, at a small Hindu temple near G.K. 1, Delhi. (where I live) The temple is atop a small hill; it is very beautiful, and also very kitsch, which is pretty standard for popular Indian Devotional art these days.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Sweet Moses, I'm busy!
Wow, there's so much to write about and I don't have time to do anything more than a totally minimal post at the moment; keeping y'all updated is one important thing, but I also worry that I'll forget details and nuances unless I type them down... jeeze louise. Anyway, a quick summary will have to do.
Friday
Yoga in the very AM. Good and surprisingly hard. Made me alert and loose for Hindi class. Next class is Wednesday morning.
Hindi class was mostly review b/c 10 out of 17 of us had to go back to the F.R.O to finish the registration process.
Midday lecture (crash-course) on the gods/forms of Hinduism. Storm-Ji continues to be an awesome lecturer.
First painting class in the afternoon. This is the practica I chose to sign up for (there were around 10 to choose from, five of us picked painting). It's this special Indian form traditionally practiced only by women. The village women would make these elaborate wall murals on the interior of their homes, using extremely simple forms (like bodies made up in rectangles, triangles, circles) and repeating line patterns. These works were never seen by anyone (except the family) for their whole history, hundreds of years, b/c they were done in private homes, accessible to no one from the public world, especially westerners. Sometime around 3-400 years ago they were accidentally discovered in a village being demolished; since then the form has evolved and is practiced by many artists. But the cool thing is, traditionally the practitioners were totally untrained; therefore it is a form that anyone can easily learn. The class was very nice, and the teacher is great.
Hindi class was mostly review b/c 10 out of 17 of us had to go back to the F.R.O to finish the registration process.
Midday lecture (crash-course) on the gods/forms of Hinduism. Storm-Ji continues to be an awesome lecturer.
First painting class in the afternoon. This is the practica I chose to sign up for (there were around 10 to choose from, five of us picked painting). It's this special Indian form traditionally practiced only by women. The village women would make these elaborate wall murals on the interior of their homes, using extremely simple forms (like bodies made up in rectangles, triangles, circles) and repeating line patterns. These works were never seen by anyone (except the family) for their whole history, hundreds of years, b/c they were done in private homes, accessible to no one from the public world, especially westerners. Sometime around 3-400 years ago they were accidentally discovered in a village being demolished; since then the form has evolved and is practiced by many artists. But the cool thing is, traditionally the practitioners were totally untrained; therefore it is a form that anyone can easily learn. The class was very nice, and the teacher is great.
Weekend
Way too much to say on this. For now, I'll just say that we took our first overnight excursion to Amritsar, in the north, which is the only active border crossing between Pakistan and Indian. There is an elaborate "celebration" (see jingoistic, militaristic, theatrical displays) every sunset, which we saw. More on this later. Sat. night we went to the Golden Temple, the world center and pilgrimage site for the Sikh faith. Unbelievable. Overwhelming. Upsetting. More on this later. Sunday, went back to the Golden Temple, another emotionally exhausting day. Followed by a six hour train ride back to Delhi.
Side note: when we finally stepped out of the New Delhi train-station I was surprised, but I didn't know why. I realized that I had been unconsciously expecting to arrive in an easier environment, like Massachusetts. Somehow the weekend was so intense, and the travel to and from so long, I expected to get back (to some undefined "home") and slip into our taxi, and speedily make our way home and go to sleep. I forgot that Delhi is even more challenging than where we had been coming from. And so it took 15 minutes just to walk out of the train station, the corridors were so over-crowded. Then crammed into our taxi with no extra room. Then sitting in traffic for 20 minutes just to get out of the parking lot, mosquitos trapped in the car. Then the standard drive thru delhi (I haven't described this yet, but it is one of a kind): picture the jerkiest, stop and start traffic (which is always and everywhere) you can imagine; add pot-holes and optional adherence to the travel lanes; add motorcycles and rick-shaws, and buses and cars around you on all sides, closer to you than would ever be considered safe in the states, weaving and jockying; add waves exhaust and shit-smell.... But here is the important part: constant constant constant honking. EVERYONE honks as frequently as they check their mirrors. They honk when they're passing; when they're going around turns, speeding up, slowing down. When they need to blow their nose, and when they change the radio station. So anyway, I thought to myself: "Oh right, I'm still in India." Actually, I was mostly just tired and grouchy. Storm-Ji has told us to expect these moments, maybe once or twice a week (maybe more) when being in India just drives you nuts--makes you angry and frustrated. It was one of those.
But, overall, things are very good.
Classes are in full swing, and the workload is intense. More later.
Side note: when we finally stepped out of the New Delhi train-station I was surprised, but I didn't know why. I realized that I had been unconsciously expecting to arrive in an easier environment, like Massachusetts. Somehow the weekend was so intense, and the travel to and from so long, I expected to get back (to some undefined "home") and slip into our taxi, and speedily make our way home and go to sleep. I forgot that Delhi is even more challenging than where we had been coming from. And so it took 15 minutes just to walk out of the train station, the corridors were so over-crowded. Then crammed into our taxi with no extra room. Then sitting in traffic for 20 minutes just to get out of the parking lot, mosquitos trapped in the car. Then the standard drive thru delhi (I haven't described this yet, but it is one of a kind): picture the jerkiest, stop and start traffic (which is always and everywhere) you can imagine; add pot-holes and optional adherence to the travel lanes; add motorcycles and rick-shaws, and buses and cars around you on all sides, closer to you than would ever be considered safe in the states, weaving and jockying; add waves exhaust and shit-smell.... But here is the important part: constant constant constant honking. EVERYONE honks as frequently as they check their mirrors. They honk when they're passing; when they're going around turns, speeding up, slowing down. When they need to blow their nose, and when they change the radio station. So anyway, I thought to myself: "Oh right, I'm still in India." Actually, I was mostly just tired and grouchy. Storm-Ji has told us to expect these moments, maybe once or twice a week (maybe more) when being in India just drives you nuts--makes you angry and frustrated. It was one of those.
But, overall, things are very good.
Classes are in full swing, and the workload is intense. More later.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
My favorite grey t-shirt smells a little musty...
You see, the Dobie comes by every other morning to do the ironing--he walks down the blocks of our little gated neighborhood waiting for someone to flag him down--and I was a little psyched about my first Dobie experience. Well, I didn't actually get to see the Dobie, but all my stuff came back beautifully ironed, including (I just discovered) my t-shirts. I don't think this shirt has ever been so smooth. Too bad it smells like a basement.
Anyway, a good, leisurely day. We were off from classes, because most of the students needed to go with Dheeraj to the FRO (Indian immigration) to take care of registration. [The Indian consulates that issue visas normally include a stipulation requiring the foreigner to register their permanent address within around a week of coming to the country. For some reason, no such stipulation was on the visas for seven of us, including me. I am choosing to assume this all grants me full diplomatic immunity. I have been trying to decide how I will use my new found legal freedom; I am wavering between steeling a cow and steeling the prime minister. I will keep you posted. ]
So I slept late and ate lunch with Sangeeta (who works from home) and got her help planning my free afternoon. She arranged for a taxi to take me around a few spots in this part of South Delhi. [We are in the neighborhood of Greater Kailash, section 1, R-block. Each block (A–W) probably has around 2,000 flats, just to give you an idea, and G.K. is just a tiny part of South Delhi, which is a relatively small part of New Delhi, which combines with old Delhi to account for the entire capital. A BIG city... a MEGA-city: it normally takes three hours to drive from G.K. 1 to the opposite end of the city]
First my driver took me to get some coffee, which I was excited for, but it turned out to be an iffy prospect as per usual. It is nearly impossible to get normal iced-coffee in Delhi: you ask for cream and they add whipped cream and charge you 20 rupees extra. You ask for cold coffee (which they understand) with ice, and it comes back blended like a frappacino. You ask for it to go, and they wrap your cup in tin-foil. You ask for it to stay, and they serve it in a giant ceramic mug. Luckily, there are three chains that are fairly reliable--Barista, Costa, and Cafe Coffee Day, the latter which is like a very fancy starbucks--so I was miffed when my driver pulled up to "Nirulas." I asked for "cold-coffee with ice and milk, no sugar" at which point they told me the sugar was already added. I figured, okay, just go with it. I made a point of saying again, "with ice." Surprise surprise, something bizarre happened: my iced coffee was actually cold coffee with a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream. Very disappointing, though tasty.
We drove over to the National Zoo, which is adjacent to a very nice Mughal era mosque, ruins, and an archeological museum. I bought my driver a ticket to come with me to the ruins, because he seemed to think he was my guide. We had a nice time walking around, but the only words he knew were "no entrance,"--which he said ad infinitum, pointing at different parts of the ruins, to what meaning I am still unsure--and "pure marble," which he used with great aptitude. The ruins were beautiful. The Mosque had pretty awesome tile-work and inlayed stones, still in great shape from 400 years ago.
Next we went to the National Handi-crafts gallery and shops, another place Sang recommended. The small gallery was very cool--tons of beautiful folk art, specially selected because of its quality from all over India. We stopped at a Cafe Coffee day for half an hour, so I could get my fix and review some Hindi flashcards, before continuing on to the Lotus temple.
My classmate Ben has an "in," there, so we got a special tour after the temple had closed. It is amazing and beautiful, arguably the most important and impressive B'hai temple in the world. Apparently India has more members of the B'Hai faith than any other country. The temple is absolutely massive--a giant stone Lotus flower, with 27 curved petals pointing upwards. The pinnacle is probably 8 stories high. We were told that it is a wonder of modern engineering that took two years to design.
We also got a private Q and A session about the B'hai faith from the South Asian director of something, a very-high-up. It was pretty interesting and very new-agey. In case you don't know (which I didn't), the B'ha'is believe that all world religions are chapters from the same book, and all gods and prophets are unified. If this sounds a little like "sharing, caring and harmony lets have hugs," I think it is. But the director was very articulate and convincing. I do think they have some very good ideas and an extremely positive message, even if their goal of a unified world religion is a little off-putting.
Sangeeta the socialite went out for her friends 40th b-day tonight, so James and I decided to go get dinner in the nearby m-block market. I had a hankering for some non-indian food, so we picked a nice-looking Chinese restaurant. In fact the food was just passable, but the atmosphere was nice, and there was an excellent salt-and-pepper fried vegetable appetizer. So who works at a Chinese restaurant in New Delhi? Apparently just regular Delhiwalas. That is, except for the door man who was undeniably Chinese. James and I found this very amusing: the restaurant found a very Chinese-looking Chinese man to essentially give the restaurant authenticity by standing outside in a bright-red "Asian-style" doormans costume, and let people in. It felt just like China!
Now I must go to bed, because our first Yoga class is tomorrow morning at seven. More later.
Anyway, a good, leisurely day. We were off from classes, because most of the students needed to go with Dheeraj to the FRO (Indian immigration) to take care of registration. [The Indian consulates that issue visas normally include a stipulation requiring the foreigner to register their permanent address within around a week of coming to the country. For some reason, no such stipulation was on the visas for seven of us, including me. I am choosing to assume this all grants me full diplomatic immunity. I have been trying to decide how I will use my new found legal freedom; I am wavering between steeling a cow and steeling the prime minister. I will keep you posted. ]
So I slept late and ate lunch with Sangeeta (who works from home) and got her help planning my free afternoon. She arranged for a taxi to take me around a few spots in this part of South Delhi. [We are in the neighborhood of Greater Kailash, section 1, R-block. Each block (A–W) probably has around 2,000 flats, just to give you an idea, and G.K. is just a tiny part of South Delhi, which is a relatively small part of New Delhi, which combines with old Delhi to account for the entire capital. A BIG city... a MEGA-city: it normally takes three hours to drive from G.K. 1 to the opposite end of the city]
First my driver took me to get some coffee, which I was excited for, but it turned out to be an iffy prospect as per usual. It is nearly impossible to get normal iced-coffee in Delhi: you ask for cream and they add whipped cream and charge you 20 rupees extra. You ask for cold coffee (which they understand) with ice, and it comes back blended like a frappacino. You ask for it to go, and they wrap your cup in tin-foil. You ask for it to stay, and they serve it in a giant ceramic mug. Luckily, there are three chains that are fairly reliable--Barista, Costa, and Cafe Coffee Day, the latter which is like a very fancy starbucks--so I was miffed when my driver pulled up to "Nirulas." I asked for "cold-coffee with ice and milk, no sugar" at which point they told me the sugar was already added. I figured, okay, just go with it. I made a point of saying again, "with ice." Surprise surprise, something bizarre happened: my iced coffee was actually cold coffee with a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream. Very disappointing, though tasty.
We drove over to the National Zoo, which is adjacent to a very nice Mughal era mosque, ruins, and an archeological museum. I bought my driver a ticket to come with me to the ruins, because he seemed to think he was my guide. We had a nice time walking around, but the only words he knew were "no entrance,"--which he said ad infinitum, pointing at different parts of the ruins, to what meaning I am still unsure--and "pure marble," which he used with great aptitude. The ruins were beautiful. The Mosque had pretty awesome tile-work and inlayed stones, still in great shape from 400 years ago.
Next we went to the National Handi-crafts gallery and shops, another place Sang recommended. The small gallery was very cool--tons of beautiful folk art, specially selected because of its quality from all over India. We stopped at a Cafe Coffee day for half an hour, so I could get my fix and review some Hindi flashcards, before continuing on to the Lotus temple.
My classmate Ben has an "in," there, so we got a special tour after the temple had closed. It is amazing and beautiful, arguably the most important and impressive B'hai temple in the world. Apparently India has more members of the B'Hai faith than any other country. The temple is absolutely massive--a giant stone Lotus flower, with 27 curved petals pointing upwards. The pinnacle is probably 8 stories high. We were told that it is a wonder of modern engineering that took two years to design.
We also got a private Q and A session about the B'hai faith from the South Asian director of something, a very-high-up. It was pretty interesting and very new-agey. In case you don't know (which I didn't), the B'ha'is believe that all world religions are chapters from the same book, and all gods and prophets are unified. If this sounds a little like "sharing, caring and harmony lets have hugs," I think it is. But the director was very articulate and convincing. I do think they have some very good ideas and an extremely positive message, even if their goal of a unified world religion is a little off-putting.
Sangeeta the socialite went out for her friends 40th b-day tonight, so James and I decided to go get dinner in the nearby m-block market. I had a hankering for some non-indian food, so we picked a nice-looking Chinese restaurant. In fact the food was just passable, but the atmosphere was nice, and there was an excellent salt-and-pepper fried vegetable appetizer. So who works at a Chinese restaurant in New Delhi? Apparently just regular Delhiwalas. That is, except for the door man who was undeniably Chinese. James and I found this very amusing: the restaurant found a very Chinese-looking Chinese man to essentially give the restaurant authenticity by standing outside in a bright-red "Asian-style" doormans costume, and let people in. It felt just like China!
Now I must go to bed, because our first Yoga class is tomorrow morning at seven. More later.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Pencils and Books
Classes officially began yesterday and things are busy busy busy. Our first three-hour Hindi class this morning was very good and very packed with material. Followed by a mid-morning lecture by Dr. Storm on the Indian system of aesthetics, Rasa. This afternoon we're going to the Humayan temple.
snappy! snapshots
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Namaste!
Well, it has been a crazy week. Maybe the craziest I've ever had. But good crazy.
Orientation has nearly wrapped up, after four days of meetings, excursions, meals and everything in between. The whole process has been very stream-lined. Much of the four days has been spent at the program center, which is awesome. It's a third story walk-up in a middle-to-upper-middle class market neighborhood of South Delhi, called Hauz Kaas. The center is extremely comfortable: we have a very nice, big air-conditioned class room with flat Indian couches and cushions instead of desks. There is also a kitchen where our lunches are prepared; several guest rooms; two offices; a library; a computer corral; and a huge shaded roof terrace where we often eat or take tea. The center has a staff of several men who cook and clean and arrange taxis. Our leaders are Dr. Storm, the academic director and Dheraj-ji, the assistant instructor. With upwards of ten people taking care of and arranging things for us, it feels like we are princes. We are ushered around the city in fancy taxis; we are given tea and cookies mid-morning and mid-afternoon and a fancy Indian meal is prepared for us for every lunch.
But the program is also so well-engineered. Of course, they've been holding our hands a lot in this beginning phase, but there has also been a good deal of exploration and freedom from the get go; what Storm-ji fondly refers to as "throwing us in the shark-tank." On the first real day, we had our first "drop-off,"--apparently a signature SIT move--where we are taken to a location, and sent off on our own with some mission. Our first drop off was a scavenger hunt. We were broken in groups of 4 and 5, and sent to various market squares around South Delhi, to do a variety of getting-comfortable tasks. For example, finding a place to make photocopies; buying a bar of Detol soap; finding out the cost to make a call to the U.S.; buying a newspaper written in Hindi (not so easy, actually... most are in English); and visiting the local chemist (pharmacy) along with many other tasks. The second drop-off took us to Delli Haat, a little open-air market, with food stalls from the tourist bureau of all 28 Indian states. Our third drop off was to Kaan Market, to buy necessary supplies at some more western and upscale stores. Our first day of classes is on Tuesday--we'll be having a test on the Hindi alphabet first thing.
The seventeen of us have all been staying at the Delhi YWCA, international guest house. It's like a no-frills hotel, but very comfortable and air-conditioned. I'm typing now from the apartment of my homestay, where James and I will be living for the next month. We just arrived here this morning, and have had a lovely time getting to know Sangita (our host) and her friend who is also living here, Mina. Sangita is probably in her late fourties; she is a divorced mother of two girls--one starting her freshman year at university in Sydney, and the younger one (16) who is at a fancy boarding school several hours away. She is very upper class; the apartment is beautiful and expansive, with lots of light and marble floors. She has a staff of three, who cook, clean, and drive for her. It will be odd getting used to servants; we are truly pampered in the way that only the super-wealthy are in the states.
Sangita is very nice: extremely bubbly and talkative, a real smart and cosmopolitan woman, who has spent her career as a travel agent. Mina is a very renowned journalist from the Times of India. They are both lovely.
The group is fantastic. Everyone has been getting along very smoothly. More than that, we are already very comfortable and fun with each other. It is no exaggeration to say that everyone is quite smart, mature, and easy (some more than others) to be with. What I especially love is that many people in the group (especially the four other guys) are extremely funny, so there is a lot of excellent socializing. I think there is a real possibility that I will be life-long friends with several of these people.
Beginning to set out on my own and see the city has been fascinating and wonderful. Yesterday was my first time navigating alone (outside of Hauz Kaas) and I had a blast. Several of us were dropped off by the taxi service at the Lodhi Gardens--a beautiful serene place, like a tropical central park, with very well-preserved stone mosques, temples and buildings, all very impressive and several stories high. I needed to take care of some errands, so after an hour I split with our little group, and decided began navigating back to Hauz Kaas alone. I was planning on taking a motor-rick-shaw (these things are absolutely everywhere on the streets of Delhi and they are cheap and easy), but I hadn't had a chance to cash a new travelers check. I only had twenty rupees (50 cents) in my pocket, and the rick-shaw would have cost sixty. So I found out the bus number that would take me to Hauz Kaas and found a bus stop. Taking the bus was really a trip; they are absolutely packed with men (unless a woman is old or with her husband, she will not travel on the buses). Naturally, they are not air-conditioned and appear to be very old and dingy. However, this must just be from heavy usage, because the entire fleet of buses run on CNG. One of Delhi's least interesting claims to fame, is that it has the world's largest eco-friendly system of public transportation. Not a feature I would have expected from a city that lacks so many other aspects of modern infrastructure and sanitation. But cool. Anyway, I finally made it back, feeling like a veteran (not really) in getting around the city once I arrived, exhausted and sweaty, at the program center.
One last thing before my battery runs out. In Delhi during this part of the year, it is at least 90 degrees every day, and 90% humidity. After being outside for just fifteen minutes, sweat pores out of every inch of my body, the way it does when you do strenuous exercise on a wicked hot day. Except, all I'm doing is standing still. So all of us whitties are still getting used to the weather. I now carry a bandanna with me all the time, to wipe the sweat off my face every 5 or 6 minutes.
More later.
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